

### Soldiers Three

### \- Warriors of Strength -

### Short Stories

by Pj Belanger

Cover Art by RB

### Soldiers Three

### Warriors of Courage

Short Stories

By Pj Belanger

Copyright 2016

Smashwords Edition

BRP Publishing

All rights reserved. This book is protected by the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproductions or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of BRP Publishing.

All characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

BRP PUBLISHING

Contact Author at mailto:pj@pjbelanger.com

Addition information at http://www.pjbelanger.com

# Table of Contents

Prolog

Controlled Rage

Different

Thank You!

Also by Pj Belanger

Coming – Fall 2017

# Prolog

The first two short stories in "Soldiers' One" came to me while I was riding from Connecticut to Florida. Whilst waiting on the New Jersey turnpike for over an hour in a stop and go situation, I thought about what the human spirit can endure. Here I was just totally fed up with sitting in a car – how insignificant compared to what soldiers have to undergo. Thus, my mind went to my Sci Fi and Fantasy world and a short story series took shape.

Now I have continued the stories in "Soldiers' Three". While the first two stories were "Warriors of Misfortune", the second two were "Warriors of Courage", the third two are "Warriors of Strength". In the first two I concentrated on the hardships that can plague soldiers while the second two are on how much courage it takes to perform their duties. The third stories are on how much strength a soldier needs not only physically but also mentally.

Although the stories are set in the far future, the same staunch human spirit exists as it always will and to which we will always be forever grateful for.

# Controlled Rage

As the cargo back door unfolded, the heat hit her like a hammer. _Not Again,_ Yoria's mind groaned as her eyes rested on the bleak arid landscape. Even the distant hills looked extremely hot and barren. Couldn't Sol Army Command ever send her to a tropical paradise - just once! But the planet's makeup was the reason her squad had been sent. These dry planets were the home of methanilum, the mineral that powered the universe. It made this world invaluable, yet vulnerable to exploitation.

The human Federation was in a real conundrum. Being part of the larger Galactic Congress, the Federation had signed an agreement with the rest of the different species that primitive worlds would be left to develop on their own. There was to be no interference until that world had reached certain technological developments. There had been too many disasters when a civilization was exposed to an advanced species; massive suicides, huge devastation of the natural resources before it could be stopped not to mention the loss of the new world's very precious unique cultural mores. If the greed for methanilum were left unfettered the universe would be a bland sameness with only the strong ruling. No new points of view or masterpieces of cultural representation would survive.

Still, the methanilum was so important that there were cheaters and they were getting better at corrupting a world. The greedy criminals found loopholes and sneaky ways to bring a primitive culture up just enough to speed their entry into the Federation. The only way to police these worlds from those wanting to exploit them was to go in undetected and investigate, then stop the offenders red-handed. And here she and her crew were again!

Her boots clumped down the ramp ever so lightly bouncing from her slight weight. The sun beat on her dark auburn hair. Yoria had been glad she'd worn her army fatigues on the cargo ship, which had been cold. Inside the transport, the chilly air kept the beasts sleepy while the humans bundled themselves in warm clothing. Now in this heat, she was sweating profusely.

Her eyes settled on a lone figure that stood at the very bottom of the ramp. Her mind immediately registered pompous bureaucrat _._ In this heat, his well-ironed officer's uniform with precisely knotted tie marked him as a strict by-the-rule type. He held an electronic clipboard in his left arm and stood at attention waiting for her to get to the bottom. Great! Her mind and body were tired, not in the mood to deal with the likes of a self-important prick.

Yoria glanced at the soldier's shoulder; three stripes. He was a Captain just slightly above her own two stripe Captain's grade. She stopped at the bottom of the ramp but didn't salute him until he had saluted first. It gave her a slight psychological advantage. With these types of assholes, anything helped.

She also let him talk first. "Captain Tripe, you are late!" his crisp voice matched his uniform.

"Well, C-a-p-t-a-i-n," she annoyingly stretched his title, "we got held up on Aston Centura and we had to feed and secure the cargo before we left. We didn't want any incident to cause a mishap. Then we'd be really late, wouldn't we?" Her mind went to prior space accidents that had happened from being careless with their heavy cargo. Some had been fatal.

The man stiffened as her sarcasm came through quite clearly. "Well, you know this is a time sensitive operation." He marked his clipboard. Yoria was sure he was remarking on her insubordination. Well he could add it to all the rest of the reports.

"I'm well aware of the time table, Sir," she responded. "This isn't our first inclusion investigation. My squad will get their assignment done before the time rules dictate."

"Well, that remains..." his voice trailed off.

She felt the huge tremor on the ramp and knew he'd seen the first of the cargo being unloaded. As the ramp began to bounce rhythmically up and down, almost violently, his eyes grew larger and her admonisher stepped back. The arrogant ass was about to turn and run - _not so soon_. "Sir, I'll need some information from you."

He turned to face her, "I think we can discuss this later..."

"No, no," This idiot wasn't getting away so easily. "As you say this is time sensitive," she could hardly contain her laughter. First timers were always like this. The man's eyes were on the handler who was leading down the smallest beast. The trainers always unloaded by size. The smell of the massive lizard's body came whiffing down, pungent and animalistic. A moment later Yoria's neck felt the hot breath coming from above her shoulders. Glancing down at the captain she realized the scared man was about to run. "Before you go, SIR, where have they placed the holding pens?" A giant roar came from behind her, deafeningly scary to untrained ears.

With his mouth wide opened, he pointed to his left and then turned with as much dignity as he could muster, running in the opposite direction.

Yoria turned around facing upwards into two black beady orbs, one on either side of a narrow pointed scaly snout. She didn't look away but instead stared intently into the beast's gaze. "Steady, girl," she almost whispered the words. The animal's large front ears were sensitive. The small back ears were less so. The reptile quieted. Its immense tail, which could squash any prey with one swipe, settled down to a slow rhythmic swish.

"Where are the pens?" The handler questioned.

"I'm gathering from that Captain's pointing hand that it's in that general direction." Considering the size the pens needed to be, she'd guess that they would not be hard to find. Her eyes watched as the first beast headed in that direction. Others would follow, twelve to be exact.

Her intelligent intense gaze swept the makeshift camp. Dirt, whirling dust clouds everywhere accented the flaps on the temporary tents. The heat waves coming up from the ground blurred the landscape giving it an unreal feel. She did, however, make out a tall graceful well-proportioned man walking toward her. Yoria knew who the male was and immediately straightened up. This time the soldier within her gave a snappish proper salute. "General Martin, Sir," she immediately acknowledged him.

"Well, welcome to another hell hole," the soldier, casually dressed in fatigues, half saluted her. His three stars weren't what marked his authority, it was his bearing and self-assured demeanor that stood out. "Have you had a chance to read the reports, Yoria?" his familiarity with her only happened when they were alone.

"Yes, this is similar to Bastra in the outer Plesidese Sector," she answered him.

"Yes and no," his arm pointed to the distant hills. "This time you'll find even the beasts will have a hard time reaching the research area."

"We will manage," turning as she noticed his eyes focus above her head. They were unloading the last lizard, Volcano.

"That's the new Red, isn't it?" His gray eyes flashed with interest as the huge rusty iron-colored beast was being led down the now violently bouncing ramp.

"Yeah," Yoria acknowledge. "We're still having problems with him. I keep telling you that bigger is not always better. I have Calston, my best rider, managing him and the reason we are late is we had trouble getting the big boy settled enough to load. The handlers had to feed the monster two whole steers to quiet him."

"Point taken," he acknowledged. "Still, in certain cases the Red might be just what is needed to put the scare in these crooks."

"The Browns are enough," she countered. "Let's face it, big is big. Four tons of beast is quite frightening enough."

"Perhaps. See you at the briefing at 1400 hours," this time he did salute. Yoria watched him walk back to the makeshift tent at the perimeter of the newly erected army base. She'd always enjoyed his backside; his broad shoulders and tight ass. After being his sleep partner for almost eight months, she had taken command of the beast unit. The two of them had unfortunately drifted apart after that. Since he was in charge of the inclusion operations, she saw him every once in awhile when their paths crossed on assignments. Each time her emotions filled her with regret.

Behind her the riders were disembarking, coming down the ramp slowly. Every one of them was frowning, one never got used to the heat of these worlds. Some were shaking off sleep having grabbed a nap during the Jump flight. It had taken fifteen hours to take the Jump from the Castine's moon station. The flight had taken another two hours of regular spaceflight to get here. Her squad was trained, however, to recover quickly and had medication to help with the symptoms.

"Fall in," she yelled when they had all made it to the bottom of the ramp. The eight men and four women were an unruly bunch. The Beast Squad had a ruthless reputation. It really stemmed from their actions on shore leave. Wild drunken rowdy parties were a norm. The crazy merrymaking on their time off was a much-needed safety valve. The job of belonging to the Beast Contingent was not only demanding, the operations were extremely dangerous. Most of the army recognized this fact and left the monster teams, as they were known, alone to police themselves. Many took a wide berth of the team. The riders and handlers were unique individuals, not everyone could handle a four-ton animal. Recruits were always welcomed but few made it past the training period. The three squads were always looking for more soldiers to join them. It didn't successfully happen very often.

She glanced at her crew of misfits. All were brawny, including the women, and scruffy looking. Many of the men had beards and long hair. The women, on the other hand, had short crew cuts or spiked multi colored hair. Her soldiers looked like what they were - tough, rugged and definitely not to be toyed with. The Beast Contingent group had to be able to handle the constant rigors of controlling the enormous lizards. Large biceps and huge leg muscles were prevalent in both the men and women.

Yoria herself worked out everyday. But it wasn't just the physical aspect the job demanded, it also was the psychological temperament. Despite their sizes, the beasts were sensitive violent animals. They quickly responded to fear, taking advantage of any panicky situation. Too many riders had become "beast food". A rider had to be constantly aware of the nature of the big lizards; constantly aware of how the animal was going to react. It meant their lives.

"As you are all aware, we are under time restraints so let's not dilly dally." They all nodded, following her to the hastily assembled barracks. Inside was a mess hall and off to the side were the locker rooms. Each rider had a shower stall and dressing area with secure personal storage. These transitory buildings followed the beast riders wherever they were scheduled to work. The advanced team, as usual, had done its job. The prep team had left each rider with local outfits to wear and native weaponry to chose from.

"Let's shower and meet in the mess hall," Yoria ordered her team. She then headed into the shower stall. She let the hot water wash over her tired well-muscled body. Taking the strong soap, her hands scrubbed hard as the smell of the beasts stuck to her from being enclosed with them on the long Jump. Her soldiers would be doing the same. There was no getting away from the smelly lizards when traveling as it took everyone to watch their cargo up close.

Dressed in shorts and a tight t-shirt, she got herself something to eat. The riders who were seated at a long table were taking advantage of eating the good hearty fare. Once out in this planet's wilderness, familiar food would be scarce and most likely what was available locally would have an awful taste.

"Hey, Captain," Mitch, her second in command informed her, "they had to separate the Red in the holding pen. That huge monstrosity was not getting along with the Browns."

She wasn't surprised but it still disturbed her. "Shit. We'll have to feed him extra to keep him cooperative." Yoria pointed out.

"Is the Red that much more aggressive?" came from the end of the table. General Martin was standing, listening.

"Sometimes, Sir," her body automatically stood with the rest of her squad and saluted him.

"Please sit down," he demanded with his hands waving at them.

"Is there something we can do for you?" Yoria asked him.

A man stepped from behind the general and was introduced. "This is Sergeant Craig Polt," Martin offered the group. "He will be traveling with you as far as the local village of Ponstria. He will serve as your interface with the locals. He'll give you some good advice so listen to him. The villagers think he's a trader from a nearby village. He's managed to blend himself in and gain their trust."

"Yes, Sir," they all said in unison. Every rider on her team respected the General. Unlike how they treated some others, there were no sassy remarks for the four star officer.

As the General left, Sergeant Polt sat down with his tray of food. "It'll take about a day to reach the village. You can't avoid it as your team will need to go through the valley's pass to reach the open plains on your way to Hellgate plateau."

"Wow, sounds like a wonderful place," Margo, the team's right flank rider remarked. "How do we get stuck with these assignments?"

"Because we're the best squad," remarked Mitch.

_It is so true_ , Yoria thought, her team was the best. "Are the natives friendly? How are we being explained," she asked the native intermediary.

"Well, friendly? Yes and no," he said between bites. "They war between the several nearby tribes but they'll be obviously wary of you. They will think you're messengers of their gods. Based on what I've observed here over the last several months, you will fit in very well with their local witch doctor's tales. As long as we stay within the Federation rules we should be fine."

"We're all trained to keep to the rules," Yoria informed him rather sharply. Most regular soldiers only saw the primitive beasts and gave the same attributes to their riders. It was a sore point with her.

"Yes, so I've been told but a quick warning," he sat back taking them all in. "We hope that the trouble makers are all on Hellgate plateau and haven't reached the local society yet. I haven't seen any sign of them but let's hope I'm right. In truth, they will be focusing on the populated areas that begin just after the plateau. There are a multitude of villages on the other side that will be the interlopers' target. The populations are more concentrated past Hellgate plateau, easier to introduce technology there."

She knew what he meant. If the local tribe had been corrupted in anyway by the damn outside criminals, the army would have the obligation of destroying the entire contaminated area - every man, woman and child. She'd seen it happen before and it stayed in her nightmares.

"That's your department," Yoria shook her head. "We can only do what we were sent here for. Be assured we will do nothing but stick to the script."

"Fine. Then I will meet you at the 1400 briefing," Polk said and left.

"Something tells me this is not going to be an easy assignment," Clarot, her leading scout, remarked. "Hope they are being honest with us about this. I don't like riding into an uncertain situation."

"The planners never tell us everything," Mitch spoke up. "But we always handle whatever they throw at us, don't we?"

Everyone at the table gave him a thumbs up. Yoria shook her head. "Let's get ready. No one is to be late!"

She left the table going over to another full table. These benches contained the beast handlers. Being their Commander, she had tried to get the two groups, the riders and handlers, to mix. It was a fruitless task. Both groups were extremely close knit, each clinging to each other for support and having little time for anyone else. So she had given up and treated each as separate entities. All twenty handlers stood up saluting her. She waved them down. Turning her attention to the lead handler, Makebee McFernstin, she said, "Make sure you are at the 1400 briefing. You'll need to know the particulars of this deployment."

He nodded, "I'll be there. I'll also bring Lina with me. We'll need everyone else in the pens watching the animals. They are restless for some reason. The beasts are argumentative, giving us a hard time. Could be the influence of the Red, he's a handful."

"Fine," Yoria answered him. "From the early reports I've scanned we will need harness saddles and if I'm right, also make sure our bags have enough food for any extra expenditure of energy the beasts might have to make. The riders are taking them into some pretty rigorous terrain. I am particularly worried about the Red."

"Yeah, so am I. We had to separate him from the Browns. He was causing too much disruption."

"Great," Yoria sputtered. "I'll warn Calston."

Back in her dressing stall, she picked out a skimpy bra-type halter-top and an even skimpier bottom. To her dismay the bottoms had a loincloth front but the back was nothing but a thong. She could understand the minimal clothing as this was a hot climate but why the uncomfortable thong? On _every one of these damn planets the savages wear these!_ she moaned. Damn! Her hands grabbed the native garb. Of course it looked crudely made of animal skins and covered very little of her body. Yoria never understood why any civilization would choose to wear such uncomfortable attire. Well, she wasn't an anthropologist, just a soldier doing her job.

Picking up her rawhide boots and roughly made leather armbands, she headed out to the central room where all the riders were just finishing preparing the last of their accessories. Of course, there were catcalls. There always was and she didn't discourage them either. This job was thankless enough; the reactions reflected their natural human feelings. Heaven knows that out on the job they had little leeway on how they acted.

Everyone was complaining about the thong backings. The men were trying to adjust them while the woman were snapping them in place. "Damn, Captain, not again!" Margo complained.

"Stop whining, you bunch of babies," Yoria chided her team.

Still, they were soldiers. To catcall was one thing, misbehaving something else. They knew the boundaries, but their commander was not beyond having some fun with them. She bent over taking her time lacing up her elk skin boots, giving a good view of her ample breasts to her male soldiers. More catcalls, then laughter. "You're pigs!" she laughed with them.

Yoria pointed to the armory room, "Choose your poison." They all chose different types of weapons depending on their training. Some had excelled in spear, some in archery, some in axes. She chose a wide long handled battle-ax, a spear and a crude hammered-out shield that strapped to her back. She also included a bow and arrow set to keep in her saddle strap.

At 1400 she entered the briefing conference room where General Cal Martin along with several of his aides were already standing around the maps. Those that had been with the group before nonchalantly glanced up at the soldiers disguised as natives. The GIs that were new to working with the Beast Squadron just kind of gawked. Yoria tried to remember the first time she had been in skimpy animal skin clothing and the feeling of being so different. Now it was a normal routine. The primitive methanilum worlds varied little; just in the fine details.

As the riders and the two handlers took their seats, General Martin focused the local map projected before him. He pointed to a ridge of cliffs and then to one in particular; a large plateau that was positioned atop a ridge right in the middle of the range. "This is your objective. It will take you almost two days to reach the base of Hellgate. It is here that our intelligence has the interlopers located."

"Who are they, Sir?" Mitch pointedly asked.

"Good question, but we aren't sure. They are good at masking themselves. No satellites have gotten any shots of them. We are only going by our spies that say perhaps it is the Rolles."

A large murmur filled the room. "Rolles? They are not usually involved in the methanilum trade," Yoria spoke up. "They are also allies of ours."

"Yes, we agree but if it is the Rolles than they are fronting for someone else. The Rolles are human and can disguise themselves as natives. Someone is paying them big bucks to corrupt this world. We need to capture whoever is doing this alive so we can find out who the actual perpetrators are. You have to be careful not to kill the Hellgate culprits and be sure no evidence gets destroyed."

"Great," it was Moria, a left flank rider. "We'll have to keep the beasts under strict control."

The General nodded. "The Galactic Congress is not convinced that there is a problem here, so we are on precarious ground. If we find nothing, we not only have egg on our faces but a huge penalty will be imposed on the Federation. Not only that, but it will give the anti-beast people more ammunition to put stricter rules on us. So be on your toes, people!"

Yoria cringed. As if their job wasn't hard enough. They were expected to walk on eggs with four-ton beasts in tow. _Some days,_ she thought, _I wonder why the hell I do this?_ But she knew; if the beasts were in your blood, they were in your soul. It was a calling and every rider knew it.

"How steep is Hellgate's cliff?" Moria posed the question that was on every rider's mind, "We heard it was rough going?"

"That's an understatement," the General shook his head, "Let's put it this way Corporal, you'll find it challenging."

"Just how challenging?" Mitch's concern was written all over his face. Her second in command was an experienced Beast rider. His Beast was Calypso, one of the largest Browns.

"Captain Monse, report please." Martin looked over at the Captain that Yoria had encountered at the bottom of the cargo ramp.

Clipboard in hand, the pompous idiot answered, "The cliff itself is very steep, Sir. None of the locals can climb it. The only way to the top is one trail on the far side and the culprits have that heavily protected. Despite our scouts' attempts, they can't get past the Hellgate defenses; the trail has high protective walls which they can shoot from. Of course, we can only use their primitive weapons. So far our troops can't find a way to breech it."

"That's not what I asked!" Mitch, standing up, sarcastically asked him, "We know the Fed's rules, Captain, and the difficulties in getting up the trail. I asked how steep was the cliff at Hellgate? What is the angle?"

"I told you steep!" The distain on the Captain's face was so annoying Yoria was afraid Mitch would go up and punch him.

"For god's sake," Yoria snapped also standing up, "what is the percentage grade? We aren't idiots! We need specific details."

General Martin angrily glaring at his aide grabbed the damn clipboard, flipping some of the pages. "It is an 87 percent grade."

"Holy shit," Mitch sat back down.

Yoria glanced over at the head handler, Makebee. The man's eyes were wide with astonishment.

"Can the beasts do it?" the General turned to the riders.

"Well yes, but it is _us_ that is the problem," Yoria answered. "Mac, can you adjust the harnesses to accommodate the steep ride?"

"Yeah, but it'll will be rough," her head handler shook his head. "The saddle bags will also have to be very secure. You sure you want to do this? Isn't there any other way up, how about the back trail?" Mac gave her an incredulous look.

"Unfortunately," Martin spoke up, "we need the element of surprise. The perpetrators will not expect you to come up by the cliff, giving us the chance to get them and the evidence before they can run. That's why we brought in the Beast Squad."

Yoria knew there was no arguing. "My squadron will do fine Sir. Give us the particulars, all of them including your own team's role."

Martin nodded to another aide, who stepped up and said. "You'll be leaving here as soon as you can. Sergeant Polk will go with you as far as Ponstria Village. We have routed you around all the small local villages except this one. It is the main trading village for the area this side of Hellgate. Caravans use this route as the village is unavoidable, being at the only entrance into the Hellgate Plains."

"Can Polk keep up with us?" Yoria asked. Many weren't aware that the beasts traveled fast and for a long periods time.

"Yes," the aide went to answer her but Polk interrupted.

"I'll be riding one of the local mounts which can travel at a constant high speed. I'll also have a second mount with me just in case. Don't worry, I'll keep up with you."

"Fine," Yoria acknowledged.

The aide continued his report. "We have arranged for the local Chieftain to have enough cattle at your disposal to feed your animals once you reach his village. Polk has taken care of all the arrangements. There is no guarantee the Chief will hold to his word so make sure the handlers feed the beasts well here at the base before you leave."

"Yup," was all she answered. Did they think she was on her first expedition?

"Then you'll sleep one night on the Plains and then reach the cliffs late the following morning."

The General took over, "We will be following half a day behind you, disguised as a trading caravan. My team will wait until I get the one message from Captain Yoria Tripe that will let me know you've secured the back trail. We'll take it from there."

"Yes, remember only one message!" the clipboard idiot put in. "Federation rules only allow one long range transmission."

She just glared at him but the dope kept going. "Remember only you, Captain Tripe, will have a communicator. Be careful, the Federation rules are very strict on its limited use."

She'd had enough and started to step forward to kick his ass but the General interceded. "Captain Monse, they are well aware of their jobs. Please sit down." Martin looked at Yoria giving her a warning to calm down. She did.

Martin continued. "You'll then head back. As you can see, there is a lake on the other side of the village. The far side is deserted and will be closer to the base. It will be a good place to settle the beasts and give them a good drink. You should be able to make it back here after that. We'll have plenty of food for your mounts.

"I assume that we will again meet up with the Sergeant by the lake?" she saw Polk nod. "Then we will return to the base?"

"Yes. I'll debrief you and then you and your contingent can leave," he said. Yoria started following her team out of the briefing room but General Martin called her back. "This isn't going to be easy," his voice held regret. "Don't think we don't realize that, Yoria. I wish we had more intelligence for you. I can't even tell you what you'll encounter at the top of the plateau."

"It's all right, Sir. We'll mange, we always do." And with that she left heading toward the holding pens.

The beast enclosure could only be described as controlled chaos. The handlers were placing the harness saddles on the beasts with huge saddlebags attached to the back. The riders were keeping the beasts as calm as possible, giving them the last water they'd see in two days. The lizards, however, didn't need to replenish their liquids often unlike their human masters. Still, they let the reptiles drink as much as they wanted. Even though the arid dry land was ideal for the beasts, being very similar to their own planet environment, the landscape was still very hot and they were going to be ridden hard.

Yoria went over to her mount grabbing the beast's bridle from the handler. She'd named her Lady Lily, mostly because the title didn't fit the massive lizard at all. This beast was anything but a Lady. Her breath was bad, her body odor worse. When Lily opened her mouth and roared it was ear shattering and her breath heated and steamy.

Yoria made eye contact with her huge mount. It was a technique that every rider first learned. Take command by staring intently into the small beady intelligent eyes and don't let up until the beast calms completely down. Most sat quietly on their haunches swishing their tails gently. Then and only then could you feed or do anything with the animal. A rider's ability was defined by how well eye contact worked. Few managed to master it. It took a lot of courage to stand before a four-ton animal that could easily swallow you whole for a snack, never mind the huge six-ton Reds.

"You are as ready as we can make you," Makebee told her. "Their stomachs are full, their liquid bladder pouches are filled. Good luck out there, you're going to need it. Wish we could be there with you but we'll be waiting when you return to take over."

"Thanks Corporal," she saluted him. "I don't know what we'd do without you. I just hope we'll be able to manage out there alone but rules are rules. Damn Federation!"

"Yeah, they don't make it easy but I suppose they have their reasons for keeping it simple and primitive. See you in a couple of days." The head handler saluted her one last time. Makebee proceeded to check every one of the beasts. Yoria, as did all the riders, did a walk around of her animal. Although she explicitly trusted her lead handler, it was standard procedure for every rider to double-check his or her mount. Her eyes scanned the huge body for any sores, cuts or missing scales. Lady Lily was fine.

Then came the equipment check. The bridle was secure and tight. Unseen, were small metal clips on the inside that pinched the beasts to encourage obedience as to the direction they were suppose to go. Yoria tugged on the saddle's cinch, also tight and secure.

The saddle had been made to look crude since most of these worlds had not progressed that far in leather and metallurgy. This assignment needed a "harness" saddle. Strong straps were attached to the body of the saddle; these were used to keep a rider on the beast as it climbed a mountainside. Also at the head of the saddle were two handles to grab on to. These aided further in keeping the rider in place.

For this deployment, extra large saddlebags were added, each disguised as sheepskin pouches. They were full to capacity with extra food for the beasts; mostly sheep and pig parts that had been preserved in a brine solution. It wasn't that the beast wouldn't eat rotten meat, since they were scavengers on their own native planet, but the smell of decaying meat was horrendous and the riders had enough to cope with.

Yoria finally climbed up, using the large reptile's scales to reach the saddle. Swinging her leg over she settled in. The saddle wasn't that comfortable but she had developed calluses in just the right places and no longer noticed. Every time she got on the beast's back, the size of Lily struck her with amazement. The feeling of massive brutal strength hit home.

She adjusted her earpiece. Every rider had one, one of the few tech devices allowed. They were small plugs that fit deep into the ear cavity and were unnoticeable by the natives. She touched her necklace amulet. It looked old and of this world. It was in reality a translator and microphone. It was Yoria's alone to operate. The communicator was allowed by the Federation to be used only by the Commander and only to connect infrequently with her team and once with home base to report that their work was finished. Her riders, although they could hear her, did not have the capability to answer.

Every one of her riders was proficient in sign language. Audible words were to be kept to a minimum, only when the natives were not around. Seeing that everything was ready, she waved her hands forward as the command to move out. Yoria watched as each of the other eleven riders rode past Lily. Each soldier, as was the tradition, saluted her. Finally, she joined the end of the line and headed out into the barren land, leaving the temporary army base behind. Quite a few of the base's personnel had come to watch their departure; most used binoculars, afraid to get any closer.

The sun's rays were directly overhead making the heat excruciating but it was something the riders always dealt with. Their skins were dark from the constant tanning. Each one had been treated back at the central army medical space station with skin protection. The riders had inoculations for every known disease and still it wasn't unknown for them to catch some new virus from all the worlds they visited. It was part of the risks. It was part of their lives.

Polk, good as his word, rode along with them. He had two sleek almost gazelle-like horses. They kept right up with the beasts that could do seventy miles a day if pushed. She kept them at a slower pace of about fifty. From the map it showed a little less than ninety miles to Hellgate and she wanted the lizards in good shape for the climb up the cliff.

Yoria, now leading the pack, kept Calston's Red beast to her right as they followed two by two. She didn't trust the immense animal and wanted to keep it in her sight at all times. They saw no one. To their left and right, steep rocky plateaus and high peaked mountains dotted the hot desert landscape. The majority of nearby villages were congregated near the large lake to their left. This route took them miles out of the way so no encounter would be likely. The least contact with the natives the better.

It wasn't until late afternoon that the village they call Ponstria came into view. She had read the reports. The village was strategically placed between two mountain ranges. The valley had a small river running right down the middle of it. Beyond was the Hellgate Plains. The community was the largest trading center in this barren region. Thus the village was relatively peaceful as fat-cat merchants kept it that way.

"Stay here until I come and get you," Sergeant Polk told them. "I have to get the Chief to walk us through the village. I also have to deal with their witch doctor, who can be a royal pain in the ass."

So they all took the opportunity to dismount and stretch. Each rider went in front of their mounts gazing intently into their eyes and giving the hand sign for "stay". The beasts did indeed just lie lazily in the sun, occasionally rolling side to side in the dusty dirt. Even the Red seemed to doze quietly, only occasionally letting out a giant roar then settling back down again. Still, none of the riders wandered far from their care but stood close by just in case the unpredictable beasts acted up.

Finally, Polk came riding back. "Well, I've prepared them the best I can. Even though I always stress the immensity of these animals, they'll still be surprised and frightened. I'm having trouble with the Chief letting us have the number of cattle we requested."

"We need those to feed the beasts," Yoria insisted. "He either gives us the livestock or we'll take them!"

"I'm sure he's just blustering. After all, this is a trading hub. I will just have to promise him more. Don't worry. Just be prepared for the kooky witch doctor. I swear the man is totally crazy!"

She gave the signal to remount and once again the beasts headed toward the village. She was surprised to see how large the village was with several sizeable meeting huts and tons of thatch-roofed shacks made of crude mud brick. As they approached two men came toward them. Each was of a hefty build with protruding round bellies. Upon seeing the beasts both men stopped and one of them quickly turned and ran back. The other slowly advanced, seeming to dance as he came closer. _Ah, the witch doctor,_ Yoria thought, and grimaced. She'd dealt with these clowns before. Their egos were all the same, huge.

Still, the raggedly dressed shaman stopped short of approaching too closely. Polk rode out and talked animatedly with the man and slowly brought him nearer. The seer rattled his beads in the air, chanting loudly as he did so. The Sergeant was right; one look at the witchdoctor's crazy eyes and his insaneness came roaring through.

Polk signed quickly to Yoria, "He considers himself a god, so he feels since you are the messengers sent by his deities then you are also his servants."

_Just what we need_ , Yoria thought, _a fanatic that's going to slow us down._ She nodded her head at the funny looking man who was covered in fancy beads, animal bones and had a necklace made of some type of sharp pointed fangs. Perhaps if they just placated him, the witchdoctor would go away. Not likely!

They headed toward the village, Polk leading the way with the soothsayer dancing in front of them. It was at the beginning of the road leading into the village that the man who'd run away was standing with several villagers armed with spears. Lily sniffed the air, a growling rumble emanating from her snout. The lizard smelled the villagers along with any other animals that were within the town's limits. The faster they got through the settlement the better, Yoria reflected. If the beasts smelled food, they would become restless and unpredictable.

Polk started forward, with the chief and crazy witchdoctor following him. The village warriors guarded both sides of the street. _It's a friggin parade,_ Yoria sarcastically thought. The inhabitants of Ponstria lined both sides of the street. Women, with frightened expressions, held tightly to their children, some of them cried loudly at seeing the beasts stomp down the wide main road.

The native men, each of them armed with spears, stood stoically with only fear in their eyes to give them away. The riders kept the beasts looking straight ahead, rubbing their tiny pointed back ears to keep them calm. The sand kicked up from the animals' large feet and swishing tails. The dust particles filled the air. Yoria had trouble breathing; both her eyes and mouth were covered in grime. Then came the damn bridge spanning the village's river. Although well built for Ponstria traffic, it was debatable whether it could take four-tons of animal crossing it. Never mind the Red.

She stopped and waited for Polk to come back to her. "That bridge was not made for the weight of the beast," her hands signed.

"It is the only way across," he replied. His hands became very animated, "The river is too deep for even the beasts to cross on their own, never mind the sizeable sharp-toothed predator fish that swim in the waters."

Mitch brought his Brown next to her. The two animals hardly fit given the constraints of the street. His hands moved rapidly, "We can't cross that!"

"I'll go first," Yoria motioned to her first lieutenant. "If we don't make it, we will have to double back and go around another way. Forget trying to skirt the other towns." Yoria edged Lily forward. The beast hesitated at the start of the bridge, giving out a great roar as the animal took in the raging river flowing under the bridge.

Yoria rubbed Lily's ears, softly whispering encouragement despite the ban on talking. Lily started across the bridge. The large wooden slats slightly bent under the creature's weight but held. Despite the bridge violently bouncing, they made it to the other side. Yoria breathed deeply and waved back at the others. Mitch came next, and then Moria, followed by the rest until finally the Red crossed. Under the huge beast, the boards loudly cracked but held. Again Yoria took a deep breath as Volcano passed by Lily. The Red, however, was not happy and let out a giant deafening roar causing the other beasts to join in the cacophony of loud reverberations. She noticed the natives, including the men, ran for their houses; scared faces could now be seen peeking out the hut's coarse windows. The street was completely empty.

When they'd passed by the last hut and headed into the Hellgate Plains, it was nearing sunset. "Where are the pens you built?" Yoria asked Polk, using her hands.

"A mile out past the town," the sergeant fingers told her.

Sure enough, Polk had gotten the villagers to build a large wooden fenced-in area; big enough to fit all twelve beasts. Of course, if the animals wanted to break through, they could. Nothing would stop a four-ton body, but if their bellies were kept full and the animals kept calm, all would be fine.

Yoria's muscles ached from the tension of the day. Dismounting, she led Lily into the enclosure and took off the saddle with its heavy bags but kept the harness intact. The riders could manage reattaching the saddles but the harnesses were difficult without the handlers.

When the twelve beasts were in the pen, all twelve riders collapsed near the shade offered by the trees in the area. Just a few large scrub pines dotted the sparse grasslands. Still, it was a relief from the dry desert that had preceded the village and was now behind them.

"Where are the cattle I was promised?" she signed to Polk, who turned to the chief, asking about the guaranteed steers. Through Yoria's amulet she heard the chief giving the sergeant a hard time.

Angry, her hands animatedly confronted Polk. "Tell the chief, I will let my beasts eat his entire village!"

"I don't think we should..." the sergeant started arguing with her but Yoria had had enough.

"Tell him or I'll tell him myself," her hands almost barked out the reply.

The chief's eyes suddenly went wide. It was at that moment the beasts decided to take up howling. They did that when the animals were hungry. The howling was a combination of roaring and snorting. Both the chief and the witchdoctor hightailed it back to the village.

"They are hungry," Mitch motioned at the beasts. Yoria nodded. If the animals weren't satisfied soon the pens would not be enough to stop them from charging down to the village where they had smelled food earlier.

The riders fanned out along the outer rim of the fencing trying to use a calming effect of slowly waving their arms up and down and chanting a high noted hum. It worked for a while but soon the hungry beasts started getting restless, stomping around the pen. Shortly the reptiles would begin to fight among themselves. Yoria was betting the Red would start the trouble.

Sure enough! Volcano started swishing his tail rapidly, and started turning in a tight circle; a sign of agitation. He roared loudly, the Browns followed with roars of their own.

Yoria hated to do it but they'd have to dig into their precious saddlebags to at least try and placate their appetites. It meant that once on Hellgate they'd find themselves in the same predicament of angry hungry beasts. Shit! That damn Chief!

Just when they were dragging the bags out, the sound of cattle mooing filtered in from the direction of the village. Fifteen steers approached their camp. The beasts smelled the food. The roaring reached an even higher tone. "Hurry," she motioned to her team, let's get those cattle in the pen.

The villagers would not get near the beast's enclosure so it was the riders that hurried the steers into the retaining fence. Immediately the beasts grabbed steers, the bigger ones, getting to the food first, were followed by the smaller Browns. Of course, the Red had forced its way to grab the leading steer. Twelve great jaws tore into their food. The crunching sound was horrendously loud. Even though the riders had often seen the feeding frenzy, the spectacle still was not pleasant. Yoria, however, did not turn away. It was imperative that each reptile got fed. All did. The Red ate two of the cattle.

The sun was almost gone when the beasts settled down satisfied. Each one curled into a tight ball, even the large Red, despite its huge size; closing their eyes, their bellies satisfied. The silence was a welcomed relief. "Get your sheep skin capes out, it gets cold here at night." The soldiers all nodded, they were used to these planets with hot dessert days and cool nights. "Get the fire going," she motioned to the wood that Polk had made sure was stacked by a large opening nearby. The place was a perfectly safe place for a bonfire without disturbing the penned animals.

It wasn't long before the fire was roaring. Nearby they could see the silhouettes of their sleeping mounts. Yoria pointed at Mitch, "You and Margo take the first watch, then each of us will take a two hour turn." She put her saddle and bags down near the fire and slumped against them, exhausted. Polk showed up shortly after she'd settled in bringing a small cart full of a type of yellow melon. The fruit was a little bitter and bland but it served its purpose of filling them up and taking the edge off their hunger. Soon the camp fell sound asleep.

Near dawn, she was awakened to take her turn at patrolling. The rising sun outlined the distant mountain ranges. The ragged peaks looked ominous and dangerously steep even this far away. Yoria walked the perimeter of the pen. The monstrous reptiles were still sleeping. They snored loudly, a few snorting when they changed positions. She wondered if they dreamt and what their dreams would entail.

When the sun's rays peaked over the ridges and reached the pen, the giant lizards came awake. Each animal stretched, an almost human gesture. The riders were already up dragging their saddles over to the pens getting ready to start on their journey.

The Chief and the witchdoctor, however, showed up at camp with Polk who had brought more melons for breakfast. The riders stopped to each grab a large piece of fruit. Yoria wondered if the Chief and the witchdoctor were related as both had protruding large bellies and extremely large hairy feet. Like all the natives of this planet, they had dark eyes. But what astounded her most was they hardly blinked.

She bowed her head to the shaman, who seemed pleased as he shook his beads in her face. The Chief, however put his hands together and bent his entire body to her talking as he did so.

Although she knew what the big man had said through her amulet, Polk signed anyways, "He says that the gods have sent a beautiful messenger. He finds you quite attractive and would be honored if you would share his bed tonight. All visitors are expected to share his bed."

Her mind reeled. _Oh for god's sake,_ her thoughts puked. Yoria started to sign a negative reply but there was yelling from the area around the pen. She looked over and to her horror the shaman had entered into the enclosure and was approaching the beasts. The stupid insane man was waving his beads and chanting. She started to run toward the opened gate with Sergeant Polk matching her stride for stride. He was yelling at the top of his voice. Her translator rang loudly in her ear. "Stop, you fool. Get out of there!"

Time seemed frozen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her riders rushing toward the pen, horror written on their faces. She saw the Browns lift their heads, showing their sharp teeth and pounding their immense tails. It was the Red, however, that moved the fastest. In seconds, with his thumping legs and swishing tail, the beast had reached the shaman. Two beady curious eyes watched the witchdoctor, who was chanting loudly and swinging his beads at the Red's snout. The giant lizard opened its mouth and in two bites ate the soothsayer. It happened so fast that it took Yoria's brain a few moments to actually realize what had happened.

"Oh shit!" came from Polk's mouth. Everyone stood gaping at the spot where the crazy shaman had been standing. "Damn, this is going to cause a lot of problems."

Yoria had too much experience, too many deployments to break the silence. Fed rules had been ingrained in her. She motioned with her hands for Polk to shut up and he did. Her other riders were also causing a ruckus. Covering her mouth carefully with her hand, she quietly spoke into her amulet, "Protocol people! Calm down or the beasts will react badly."

The Browns were already agitated by the commotion. They started bumping into each other, roaring and snapping. The Red was pounding the ground and rearing up on his haunches, as if to challenge the smaller lizards. The riders fanned out around the pen. Every one of them raised and lowered their arms in union, then began loudly chanting.

Unfortunately the Chief, who was rooted in his original spot, was hollering and yelling. The Chieftain wailed loudly. Yoria turned to run back to the ranting man. He was going to cause the beasts to break out of their pen in panic. She didn't get far, however, as the chief proceeded to throw up his innards and then collapse. Polk raced over to the now unconscious man, shaking his head.

The beasts, thank goodness, were responding to the riders, most just stood quietly watching their masters chanting motion. Eventually, all the lizards, including the Red, lay down quietly. Yoria motioned to Mitch and Moria to help Polk move the Chief.

"Let's get them saddled. We need to get out of here," she instructed her team. Then she returned to Polk who with Mitch's help was throwing buckets of precious water at the chief, cleaning him up. The village leader seemed in a daze.

Polk got the man to stand up. The Chief smelled as bad as the beasts for god's sake. Yoria's translator caught the sergeant's words, "Your highness, the gods have seen fit to send your witchdoctor back to them. He is with the gods."

The Chief just stared at Polk, Yoria wasn't sure if the village leader understood or was still in shock. Polk, however, brought out a bag full of gold nuggets. The chief's eyes opened wide, his hand grasped the precious bag of wealth. The village leader then nodded, "Yes, it is so."

Yoria watched as Polk accompanied the Chief back toward the village, talking animatedly to the leader, handing him even more gold as they went. The riders all finished loading the beasts. It took two riders to place and tighten the saddle and attach the saddlebags but they hurried as much as was possible given the task. The beasts, to their relief, gave no further problems.

The sun was not yet mid morning when the riders led the huge reptiles out into the Hellgate Plains. Mitch's Brown, Calypso, came along side Lily. "That's going to cause a lot of trouble when we get back to base camp," he shook his head.

She just nodded. Despite the killings that the Fed army would do to prevent any world tampering, they were very strict when it came to any other unnecessary local deaths. "We will need to watch the Red carefully," Yoria told her second in command. "You know what they say about once they taste human flesh."

Mitch shuddered then nodded. Her second in command looked pale. She wondered if the horror of what had just happened also showed on her own face. It was Moira who came up, relieving the tension. "Well, that was a first for me. Not something to write home about!"

The lands beyond Ponstria actually had grass. Unlike the desert, there was a slight breeze filtering down from the surrounding mountain ridges. The land seemed less dry and the grass in places was quite tall. She wondered at the lack of inhabitants. Not much had been said about the land preceding Hellgate. The General's comment had been, "Just get through it to the cliffs as quickly as possible. Stay on your beasts."

Moria came next to her, "Maybe we could take a small break, we left rather quickly and we should double check our equipment." Yoria was about to agree when something moving caught the corner of her eye. She tried to focus more on the surrounding area. _Funny,_ she thought, _why aren't there more small animals_. Not a squirrel, rabbit or even birds seemed to be anywhere around.

Then she actually saw the grass move. To her horror, an enormous snake slithered along side of their convoy. "Oh, my god, did you see that?" Moira gasped breaking her silence.

"Everyone keep on your mounts!" she quietly spoke into her medallion as another snake slithered on the other side of her. Now she knew why nothing dwelled in this land. If her estimate was correct, the snakes were fifteen or twenty feet long and as wide as a small barrel. There was comfort in the fact that the snakes would not bother with the massive lizards but the sooner they got out of here the better.

Suddenly, one of the snakes slithered between her and Moira's beast, Lucky. Her lieutenant's lizard roared rearing high on its back legs. The lizard immediately took after the snake. _Crap,_ Yoria thought and waved to Mitch as both Lily and her second in command's beast turned and followed Moria. "Keep Calypso on the right of her, I'll take the left," she ordered Mitch.

Mitch and Yoria's Browns were the fastest of the twelve. Both got along side of Lucky, using the big Browns to try and slow down the smaller animal. Lucky swung its massive head at both mounts, snapping. The snake was slithering right in front of them. It suddenly turned to hiss at the three massive lizards, coiling upwards. Lucky's huge foot came pounding down on it.

The snake was cut in half and collapsed to the ground. Yoria got Lily to turn right into the path of Moria's mount. Both lizards collided then stopped, the dead snake right under them.

"Don't let her eat any of it!" Yoria loudly yelled, "We have no idea if it's poisonous."

Moria pulled hard on Lucky's harness but the beast was giving her a difficult time. Yoria jumped down. She quickly stared into Lily's eye, "Stay," Yoria whispered and her lizard actually sat. Then she went over to Moria's beast. Mitch was on the other side trying to use Calypso to block the other lizard's head from going down to the snake while keeping his own beast under control.

Yoria stood in front of Lucky, she made eye contact, staring intently at the big black eyes. Slowly, Moira's beast quieted to the point where she could be turned around. Yoria remounted, but not before passing over the immense snake. The head was as large as a horse's head, not to mention the matching long body. She shivered and quickly got onto her saddle.

When she'd rejoined the group, she reached for her amulet telling her troops, "Keep to the road and be alert for another snake incident. Keep these animals on short leashes!"

The day seemed to drift away as noon came and went. Her stomach was rumbling but she dared not stop to get something out of her saddlebag. They had been seeing snakes on and off all morning and she did not want to tempt fate and become snake food. Once again she thanked the heavens for the massive size of the beasts. Yoria wondered if she should warn the General then decided he probably already knew given the warning he'd provided. Still, the following caravan would have to be careful.

Around mid afternoon, the huge plateau-topped cliff, Hellgate came into view. It was one of two high plateaus that seemed to guard the entrance to the populated lands beyond. From her report she knew that several large settlements lay just past the gap. It was the more populated part of the planet. Its gateway was why the criminals had chosen this place. It was easily defended and also easy to reach the villages from there and to spread the new technology before the Galactic Congress became aware of it. She just hoped the Rolles hadn't gotten to the large villages yet.

With any luck, they were in time. It was on the top of the plateau that the Rolles had reportedly set up camp. Hopefully with this side being unpopulated and the cliff's supposedly being un-climbable, then the Beast Squad would have the element of surprise on their side.

The twelve riders approached the sheer cliff carefully. No sign of anyone or anything, including the snakes. The ground was becoming rocky and probably not conducive for the big snakes to crawl on. _Thank goodness,_ the riders had had enough of the threatening serpents.

When they had reached the base of the plateau, she motioned for the riders to span out. The riders would need to keep several meters between each beast so as to prevent any collisions during the climb. Her eyes looked up at the cliff. It was almost straight up with some deep crevices that could impede their climb. "Saddle up," Yoria commanded. All twelve riders hitched up their harnesses cinching them as tight as the straps would go. The riders were leaning forward over the beginning of their beast's neck. She grabbed onto the two handles that jutted out the front of the saddle.

"Let me start first," she softly spoke into her amulet.

Yoria nudged Lily forward. The huge lizard took a few steps, growling softly in protest but climb the beast did! At the bottom of the cliff were fallen rocks. At first her beasts slipped and slid as its feet climbed upward. "Come on girl," Yoria whispered into Lily's set of small ears. She rubbed them lightly encouraging her mount to continue. Lily kept climbing until the beast had reached the solid rock of Hellgate's side. Lily's webbed feet spread out. Yoria heard the lizard's suction cups grip ahold of the surface and then lift itself upward.

"All right, start climbing," she croaked into her transmitter. They had just begun the climb and already she was winded from just holding on as tight as was possible. The twelve beasts were now heading up the mountain; each grabbing onto the rock with their massive webbed suction cup paws. Moria and Mitch were close by; their faces were strained with the effort to remain on their beasts' back despite the harnesses. The team all made steady progress. The valley was left far below them. About half way up Yoria noticed the Red had taken the lead. It was amazing to see the humongous iron colored lizard climb easily up the sheer rock wall.

She felt something whiz past her ear. Damn, someone was shooting arrows from above. They could not penetrate the beast's scales, only by a direct hit on their eyes could the reptiles be hurt. Her human body however, could be. With great effort one of her hands let go of the saddle's handle and took the shield that was tied to her back swinging it in front of her. Her arms' muscles strained but she managed to get it in place.

Good thing as several pings hit the shield. The beasts weren't all visible to her but the ones close by were doing the same kind of protection. Her eyes glanced left. The valley lay far below. The air seemed colder up near the top. Her whole body ached from the strain of the restraint straps. Lily was also breathing deeply as the lizard headed toward the uppermost part of the cliff. The Red had passed all the rest, the reptile was almost at the pinnacle. Calston was hanging low on the big monster's body.

They whole group came up onto the top. The cliff, at the uppermost level, had a rocky section that slowly leveled out and finally Lily grabbed on to the flat surface and the lizard lifted itself onto the top of the plateau. Yoria immediately released the restraining straps and sat upright. Several natives with bows and arrows were shooting at the beasts. Most, however, were running away as fast as they could, screaming loudly as they did so.

"Regroup," she said into her communicator. The Red, which had reached the top first, was running rampant. Swinging its head violently, the huge jaws were snapping at the retreating natives. They were being knocked left and right as the giant legs also crushed some of them. "Calston, get that animal under control!" she yelled into her amulet. Calston was trying. Her best rider was pulling hard on his reigns but the Red was resisting him in its easy pursuit of panicking prey. The chaos of the natives' retreat was even getting to the Browns that were roaring loudly. Yoria could feel Lily's massive muscles straining against the reigns' restraints. "Come on girl, calm down," she whispered softly in the beast's ears, rubbing them slightly.

Finally, the twelve beasts were brought under control but not before the landscape was littered with bodies. "Shit," Yoria got down from her Brown. She walked over to Volcano who was snorting loudly and pulling against Calston's control. She'd had enough. Going against regulations, Yoria held up her hand to the side of its monstrous head letting her stun rod shoot 500 volts into the Red.

It was a very risky chance that it would get him under control. The jolt could also spark resistance. To her relief, the black eyes clouded over in submission letting her stare directly into the beady orbs. "Stay!" she quietly but firmly said. The giant beast sat quietly on its haunches.

Calston dropped down, "Damn, we'll have to come up with some new kind of harness and other restraints for the Reds. They are too volatile." The rider was out of breath, sweat covered his brow.

" Or not use them at all," Yoria expounded vehemently.

All twelve beasts now stood in formation, sitting on their backsides but not quietly. Many strained their necks forward smelling the meat that lay sprawled out in front of them.

"Get these bodies out of here!" she instructed, now reverting back to sign language. Who knew who was listening or recording, probably no one but it wasn't worth taking the chance. "If they are dead throw them over the cliff, if not at least drag them down wind." She pointed to her left.

All were dead and ended up being dragged over the side. With that done, the beasts quieted down and she could take stock of the flat top plateau. On the far side shooting straight up was another large precipice that was dotted with caves. "No wonder that satellites showed nothing," she expounded to her scout, Clarot. "The caves have huge overhangs and would not be visible from the circling satellites."

The precipice was just over a half mile away. Ropes hung down from the flat area in front of the caves, and were full of natives scampering up. Even from this distance the panic stricken fear of the caves' inhabitants could be felt. "Getting up there won't be easy," her scout hands spelled out.

"Up there, we have to go," she similarly replied. Yoria ordered a remount and slowly headed the large reptiles to the flat ground before the caves. The ropes had been drawn up. As they got closer there began a pounding of thrown rocks that the natives were heaving down on them.

"Back up," Yoria spoke into her amulet. The rocks couldn't hurt the beasts but they sure as hell could do damage to the riders. The twelve riders brought their beasts back out of range and stared upwards. "We will take five beasts, each carrying two soldiers. Two of you will wait down here. Do not let anyone escape! Keep the other seven beasts as calm as you can."

Her team nodded, it wasn't the first time that they'd used this strategy. Once we reach the top of the wall, one person will stay with each beast clinging to the cliff just below the caves. The other five will dismount and attack the five caverns' openings."

"And how are we going to do that?" said Mitch, skepticism filling his rough handsome face.

Yoria looked around the area. Small scrub bushes dotted the ground. She went over and gathered some of the top dried brush. Looking around she saw the small outcrops of flint that also surrounded the area. Taking two rocks she sparked onto some of the brush. Immediately the twigs caught and smoke rose. "We smoke them out!"

It took almost half an hour to gather enough brush onto the back of the five attacking riders and to add more onto the back of the beasts. "That should do it," she surveyed their work. "Let's get this done! As soon as you've set the fires, the beasts can be brought up to the ledge in front of the caves. The animals then will keep the natives corralled as they come out. Be on the look out for any Rolles who will be disguised as natives."

"How are we supposed to recognize the bastards? They look just like us," Moria said, shaking her head.

"I don't know but we will figure it out. Look for anything out of place!" she told them.

Yoria took a place behind Mitch, holding tightly to his climbing harness. Her legs grabbed on to the beast's scaly hide. Her muscles strained, her training taking over. It was tight and restraining but she'd done it before. The rough brush rubbed irritatingly against her back.

As they approached the cliff, rocks rang down again. "Shields up," Yoria ordered. She helped Mitch pull his shield in front of him. Her body crouched as close to him as possible. Rocks flew all around, many hitting the scales of the animals and bouncing off. A few hit Mitch's shield and he grunted in pain but up the short cliff they went. As they reached the top, she climbed over her lieutenant and pulled herself over the beast's neck. Her arms flung out grabbing the top ridge's rough surface. She knew from experience that her hands would be cut in several places. Immediately jumping up, she had her large ax out, swinging it.

No one was on the ledge; all had run into the caves. She ran to the nearest opening, unstrapping her twigs and placed them inside the opening and then quickly set them on fire. The other five were doing the same. She notice Margo was bleeding from her arm. The dry kindling immediately caught and smoke billowed inward. She coughed as the smoke became overwhelming and stepped out of the way.

Mitch had already brought the beasts onto the ledge. They didn't like the fires and roared loudly in protest. "Hold them quiet," she instructed, "we want the people to come out of the caves. The roars will scare them." They fed the fire even more from the twigs that they had strapped to the backs of the reptiles. Before long smoke was billowing out.

The natives started running out, bent over and choking. They stopped and huddled against the side of the towering rock between the caves. Many cowered together in fear, staring wide-eyed. Men, women and children all gathered on the ledge. The ten beast soldiers were leading them all towards one area. Yoria counted a total of thirty.

She tried to calm them down by motioning with her arms. She'd learned several of their words. "Peace, no hurt." She tried several times but it didn't do much. "Look what we found," Mitch came dragging a native toward her. Yoria immediately knew it was a Rolle; for one thing his lower body was covered in a full loincloth, no thong for him. Also on close inspection his clothes, although well disguised were made of off world materials. No animal skins for him!

Mitch brought him up to her. "How many are there of you?" she said in Galactic common language. All federation associates used it. Yoria could tell the captive understood her but he didn't answer, defiance was in his eyes. Grabbing him by the arm, she dragged him over to Calypso. The lizard gazed down at the human and cocked his head. Then suddenly it roared. The reptile's hot breath flooded over the Rolle.

"No, no," the criminal shouted and pulled against her.

"You'll make great lizard food," she told him. "Now talk!" edging him once more toward the now snorting agitated beast.

"Five of us," the Rolle spurted out, "there are five of us."

Yoria nodded toward Mitch, who had started filtering through the crowd. He pulled out three other Rolles and dragged them in front of Yoria. "Tie them up, get them to the lower plateau's floor, " she commanded. Moira forced the Rolles down the ladders to the two waiting riders that had been left behind.

Meanwhile, Clarot and Mitch approached her, "Come down to the last cave," they said. Mora came striding out of the last cave's entrance sputtering as she shook off the last remnants of the smoke. The rider held out her arms that held something that looked like a jumble of wood and wires. As Yoria watched, Clarot quickly assembled a deadly crossbow, a weapon far advanced for this world. "There are at least five hundred of these in there."

"Oh just great," Yoria swore. "Let's hope they haven't distributed any of those weapons yet. Having them disassembled would have kept them out of any satellite pictures until it was too late. The weapons would have been easy to smuggle down to the villages."

"Oh, it gets better," Moria came striding up to her. "Look what else we discovered." In the palm of her hand, the right flank rider held a small deadly gadget. A stun gun! "We found only a dozen of these babies but I'll bet more are on their way. Watch this." Taking the gun Moria easily attached the gun to the bottom of the crossbow. The advanced tech gun was easily disguised. It had obviously been designed for the bow weapon. "Whoever is responsible for this wants this planet badly. They are in a rush to make it open for methanilum exploration."

Mitch touched her arm, "I got the Rolles to talk." Yoria didn't ask for particulars on how he'd gotten the information. "The remaining Rolle is up on the ridge overlooking the pathway up here," he said pointing to a narrow path to his right. "He's with the natives that are preventing any assault on this plateau via the passageway."

"Time to regroup. Everyone back down," she motioned with her hands. Yoria watched as each rider mounted and positioned their beast at the edge of the ledge. Each rider taking a turn had their beast extend their massive wings and step off the edge. Each floated down gradually to the lower ground joining the other waiting beasts. The last remaining riders climbed down the ladders.

"Mitch, stay here with Moira and watch the Rolles and don't let any of the natives down from the caves. We'd better get to the overlook before we lose any surprise advantage we may have."

Mounting their beast they went single file through a tight rock opening leading to the other part of the plateau. On the other side was the end of the trail coming up from the valley below. To her right was a path leading upward to a higher ground that overlooked the trail. She motioned for them to head up. "Keep them silent, folks," she whispered into her amulet.

At the top a loose rocky surface covered the entire area. As they headed toward the other end several native warriors came into view. It was a camp that was set up to defend anyone trying to get up the plateau's one and only trail. The track lay in full view below. Anyone on that route was an easy target.

Chaos ensued as the warriors became aware of the Beast Brigade. The warriors were cornered, however, it was fight or die and the savages fought. Arrows flew. Despite the terror in their eyes the desperate men attacked the Beasts who easily batted most away. Still the bulk of the warriors backed off to the narrow part of the promontory. The beasts were too heavy to go there. Yoria jumped down swinging her ax, using her shield for protection. Hand to hand combat began.

"Watch for the last Rolle, I want him alive," Yoria command. Every one of her soldiers was on the ground battling. The fighting was brutal as the natives had little choice but to fight. Still, her team was experienced in hand to hand fighting and soon they had killed almost all but a few. They were backed up to the very edge of the ridge. Some dropped their weapons. Others charged and were quickly killed.

Sure enough, there was the missing Rolle, on his knees, begging for mercy. "Tie them up, leave them for the General's men, throw all their weapons over the cliff and bring the Rolle back to the cave area."

Her soldiers were covered in blood. Not good, the beasts would smell them. It was Yoria who approached Lily keeping well away from her beast's head and climbing up to get her water pouch. Lily eyed her but kept still. Once down they used the water to wash as much of the carnage as possible off their bodies. Then they led their beasts, dragging the Rolle with them, back down to the cave area.

Yoria pressed her amulet's side activating the long-range communicator. "General. Mission accomplished, trail cleared." Plain and simple. Back at the cavern site the beasts were restless. "They're hungry," Mitch commented. "So am I, for that matter."

Yoria just nodded. She was exhausted, every part of her ached. Her body smelled of animal and blood. "Let's feed them the rest of the food from our saddle bags while waiting for the General's team," her voice cracked with fatigue. It took another three hours before the General came walking through the narrow crevice to where the squadron waited.

Martin nodded. Despite her weariness, she admired how well he looked in his native garb. "Good job," he said. "Report."

She told him everything that had occurred on Hellgate. His expression became very serious as he looked over at the tied up prisoners. Then he glanced up at the caves. "I think you should go now," it was a command not a request.

"Yes, Sir," she turned giving her patrol the sign to mount. Even the beasts seemed tired as they turned back toward the sheer cliff of Hellgate. When they reached the drop, she looked over the vast land below. The great lake was off somewhere to their left, it should be easy to find. "Mitch lead the way, I'll take the rear. We should easily make the lake from here. Remember it is the northern shore we are shooting for. It's supposed to be completely deserted."

He nodded. The twelve beasts were lined up as Mitch flicked the ear of his Calypso and the beast jumped up off the cliff spreading its massive wings. The rest of the animals, one by one followed. Volcano went just before her. Her heart jumped as the huge Red's wings spanned out. One whoosh and he had caught up with all the rest. Although the beasts could not literally fly, they were excellent gliders, catching the high trade winds easily.

"Come on Lily, let's go home," she flicked her beast's ear and the reptile jumped spreading its wings as it did so. As the crosswinds took them higher and higher, the planet took on a far away peaceful look. _How deceiving,_ she thought, as Lily banked left following the rest of the large reptiles. Yoria's thoughts went back to the caves. A tear fell on her weathered cheek. This wouldn't be the last time the planet would be under assault. The methanilum seekers never quit.

The shiny blue lake could be seen in the distance. The lake offered rest. They'd distribute the last of the food they brought in their saddlebags to the Beasts, at least calming them until they reached the base's holding pens. The reptiles would bathe and eat, then settle down for the night. Then she'd get some sleep, although sleep brought dreams - as another tear fell.

# Different

"You sure you want to do this?" Corporal Allen asked him once again.

"Yes, Sir." Markus had trouble getting the words out because he wasn't sure he wanted to do this. Just like all the other times, butterflies filled his stomach. Each time he went on a rescue mission he doubted his own courage, doubted his own ability. Once he'd begun though, his mind focused on the task at hand, all fears left him. For one thing, he was a typical Curthian, practical to the extreme. Once he got started there was no turning back, so why worry about it?

"Well, let's get you positioned. The copter is ready," Corporal Allen said as he waved to several other soldiers that had gathered. "Remember Major, these Bothians aren't part of the Federation, they play by different rules. The four-armed bastards have no morals, no scruples. Despite their technological advancements, in some ways their soldiers are still barbarians."

"Yes, I'm aware of their nature, Sir." Markus wished the Corporal would shut up and let him get on with the mission.

"Be careful to hide that you are a Curthian. We may think of you as human, they think of you as evil magicians. They usually skin your type alive. It is even rumored that they eat your kind to get your magical abilities. You'll have to be careful, these creatures have a good sense of smell. So even if you use your camouflage, they may still sniff you out with their large sensitive muzzles."

Markus said nothing. None of this was new to him. He'd always done his homework before going on a rescue whether it be saving hostages on the desert planet Lardis or bringing home a diplomat's kidnapped children on board a ship on Mokus' moon. He always studied his enemies carefully; both biologically and mentally. His ability to adapt depended on his knowledge of the species he was going to mimic and fool.

He got into the army helicopter buckling securely into one of the side seats. Allen jumped into the seat next to him, "We're going to drop you just beyond the Federation's defense lines. You'll probably have to hike in a couple of miles before you hit the actual battleground."

On his other side, Markus nodded to the Lieutenant who was commanding the operation. "Any new prisoners taken since my most recent report?'

"No. Since they took the last researcher, we've been careful not to expose our remaining scientists to kidnapping. Once the Bothians read your identification papers, hopefully, they'll immediately take you to Hades, their research island. We will start broadcasting our frantic search for you as soon as you land so they'll be looking for you already."

"It's not everyday I'm a famous biochemical expert," Markus sarcastically remarked.

"Well, it will be up to you to convince them of your authenticity. They captured seven of our experts. Hopefully those taken don't give you away as not being one of them."

Markus nodded, he'd read the dossiers on the group of scientists taken from the army base, Fort Ludin. The Bothians had successfully deployed an unexpected assault on a research facility almost fifty miles into Federation territory. A group of twenty Fed scientists had been working on a chemical agent that would neutralize the stun weapons used by the Bothians. It would have provided a quick end to the war. Now the doglike blue aliens were supposedly using the captured humans to perfect their own override to the antidote or even worse perfect their own neutralizing chemicals to use against their human enemies.

He mentally went over each individual's report: Ben Coste, 64, a biochemist, Ned Brandt, 35, a computer specialist, Molt Silvermaen, 42, a bio-engineer, Shana Literis, 31, electrical engineer, Cofflin Mcabae, 56, and Carl Mothis, 49, both bio-molecular specialists and lastly Lar Brawnstin, 38, electrical-chemical engineer. All were top-notch scientists that had been recruited by the Federation and not trained soldiers. He had his doubts on how well they were faring under the doglike Bothians that were now their barbaric masters.

Markus got his parachute on as they were approaching the drop point. Sounds of large explosions had filtered into the helicopter. The battle was not far away. "Good luck to you Major. Remember you have only three days before we destroy that island. Don't miss the rescue boat. Our men will be looking for you every night. If you don't show up I'm afraid..."

Markus held up his hand, he didn't want to hear it. He'd be at the rendezvous spot with the kidnapped scientists. Doubts did nothing but cause fear. The Curthian got in position to jump. The jungle below looked lush and ominous. He was aware that the foliage hid a lot of dangerous wild life that lay below all that greenery. He wondered, not for the first time, why the Federation was so interested in protecting this planet. It held only a few colonies. Let the damn Bothians have it!

His hand went to his thick bush hair. The mass dense black crop on top of his head had taken him almost four days to grow it just right. He checked one last time. Imbedded in the extra firm fuzzy top was a screwdriver and a small multi-purpose army knife. Hopefully after they had captured him and taken him to the island, he'd have time to hide his escape tools for future use.

His hand also went to his left ear. Markus was relieved that the translator device he had implanted in his ear canal did not show. He hoped it worked properly, not having had time to check it completely after it had been placed and he'd regrown the ear. Deciphering their guttural words would be crucial in understanding the Bothian's plans.

He wore regular army fatigues but his pants and shirt were purposely ripped in several places and they were covered in mud. Even his army standard assigned combat boots were slashed in several places. He looked like he'd barely survived a plane crash, which is what the army was broadcasting. He quickly glanced in the helicopter window's reflection. He had taken the last few hours before leaving and added bruises on his face along with a good-sized scrape above his eye.

This planet's worth ain't your call entered his head as he jumped out of the helicopter. You're just a dumb caring Curthian, a minor universe player trying to make a difference or was he trying to convince the Federation that he was indeed human? He'd already picked his landing spot. A small break in the huge banyan trees lay far below his chute. He carefully maneuvered so that he'd land right in the middle of it. Soft moss cushioned his landing. Still, he thunked down hard.

Shaking the landing cobwebs out of his head, he immediately took his chute and buried it under a rock pile. Markus looked around at his surroundings. He was deep in the thick of the jungle. The battleground was to his northwest but he couldn't see the sky to figure out which direction was right. The Curthian cursed himself for not carrying a compass but the army had warned him against any gadgets. "Let them think you were in a crash, you should have nothing. They are suspicious bastards."

He eyed the banyan tree. Looking at his hands, especially the fingers, claws began to appear. He took off his boots and concentrated on his feet. Again, claws appeared. Grabbing on to the trunk of the tree, he easily climbed. At the top, the open sky was visible, letting him see the sunrise. Getting his bearings, he now knew which way was northwest. Down the tree quickly, he returned his body to normal, replacing his boots, and headed first due north.

The jungle quickly swallowed him up. The smell, especially for a Curthian, was overwhelming. Also having a sharp sense of hearing, he had to try and shut down the cacophony of the rainforest noises. Just the crickets alone were loud and monotonous. The bugs could dull your mind. His intense combat training helped him keep his concentration focused.

It was slow going, as there was thick foliage. He plowed through. The soldier saw huge snakes and chattering monkeys from high above. The primates threw whatever they could at him. Despite having changed his body to reflect the colors of the jungle, he knew he couldn't change his body smell, so he kept alert. It certainly hadn't fooled the damn monkeys as another coconut struck his shoulder! Several times loud roars, close by, entered his consciousness, warning him to be very careful.

Markus estimated he'd gone several miles before the sounds of the battle were right nearby. He started to see spots of scorched land - battle scars on the earth. The Curthian headed forward toward the sound of the large booms. When he had gotten close to the bombardments, he took several minutes to change back to his previous appearance.

He came closer to the loud shelling, taking in the best places to cross. The army had instructed him on where the best place would be to get captured. They would keep the battle to the west, so he went into the totally scorched land to the east. The smell of the burnt jungle made him gag. Markus headed forward crossing to where he could hear the huge guns of the Bothians pounding away. He got so close as to see the blue monsters placing several large casings in a gun turret. They were so busy firing that as he stood near the jungle's edge just short of the opening, the doglike creatures hadn't even noticed him. He was in a dilemma as to how he could get them to see it without being totally obvious as to what he was doing.

_Maybe I should bark,_ he sarcastically thought as his eyes took in the canine ears and long snouts. At this close range he could actually see their whiskers. The dog image, however, was somewhat ruined by their standing upright with their blue fur and four arms protruding from their torsos. Fortunately, one of the Bothian soldiers glanced his way. It took several moments for the doglike creature to register what he was seeing. Then the Bothian let out a howl and pointed at the human intruder.

It again took several more seconds for it to register with the other soldiers. Marcus took the opportunity to start running as if trying to escape. The Major hadn't gotten far when he felt the buzzing zip by his ears. They were firing their stun guns at him. It was time. He turned holding up his arms in surrender. They literally pounced on him, dragging him to the ground.

"I give up," he muttered first in Federation words then he stumbled on the words with their own language. Using his ear translator, he made sure he sounded as if he knew just a little of their Bothian language. They hauled him up but not without first kicking him hard.

"Check him," one of the creatures told his comrades which they did, frisking him very roughly. He felt their hard claws through their hands or paws, whatever one called their doglike fingers.

It didn't take them long to find his identification tags. They handed his tags to what seemed like their commander. His yellow eyes looked at the identification and he talked animatedly into his communicator attached to his uniform collar. As the Bothian listened his eyes became wide. The leader looked at his prisoner, now scrutinizing him from top to bottom.

"Bring him," he ordered his soldiers. "Be careful, he's important. Tie him up securely." Markus was relieved that he understood every word. His translator was working!

They actually tied him to one of the gigantic guns. Not long after, the sound of a helicopter came from above. At least twelve heavily armed Bothian soldiers jumped down and Markus was physically carried and thrown into the copter. He hit the floor with a thump, bumping his head. He worried that the escape instruments would fall out of his hair but to his relief, the hidden tools stayed put.

He was placed near the cockpit and could hear the pilots talking. They were discussing with Bothian Command where to bring their prisoner. If Markus understood correctly, he was being brought to Hades Island. He sighed with relief. The copters were bringing him right to where he wanted to go.

Markus estimated they'd been flying for about an hour, when the copter started skimming along the shore of the Policit Ocean, the biggest body of water on the planet. The flight started to go over the water and away from the shore. A small island finally came into view. So that is Hades Island, entered his head. It matched the images that he'd been shown of an isolated island about 25 miles off the coast. A rocky shore circled the entire island. It dismayed him to wonder how they'd get off the island to meet up with the rescue boat.

He saw several buildings and a small airstrip that the helicopter started to circle. His eyes traced a dirt road that led from the compound to a small dock area. As they turned to land, he caught a glimpse of a small beach near the far end of island. His thoughts soared as he took note of it – aha, perhaps he could use this area to escape. Although he only got a glimpse, at least it was something.

Several blue furry figures were at the landing strip. The copter landed and several Bothians again carried him to one of the buildings with the heavily armed greeting group following close behind. They threw him roughly onto the plush carpeted floor of a large office. The room was opulently decorated. In the center of the office was a beautiful large banyan wood desk, carved in ornate swirls with matching cushioned chairs. The walls were covered in portraits of important army dressed Bothians. The blue/yellow Bothia flag stood in one corner.

Behind the desk was a bulky dog figure that scared the hell out of him despite him being prepared for their sizeable appearance. The superior actually growled at him, sharp teeth gleaming. Waving his four arms forcefully, the commander then spoke in broken Federation language, seemingly to temper his tone, "Well, Doctor Mase, welcome to your new home. If you cooperate with your other associates you'll be allowed to live. If not, we will most gladly kill you, s-l-o-w-l-y. Do you understand?"

He meekly nodded, slouching down in a defeatist way. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" The commander literally barked it.

"Yes, yes, I understand!" he forcefully said, letting fear enter his voice.

"Good," it nodded to the soldiers that stood Markus up, making sure to hold tightly on to him. "Take this vermin to the lab. Then find Morkel and have him get the prisoner prepared."

They saluted the canine and then dragged Markus down a hall, then outside and headed toward a shabby looking outbuilding. Once more they brought him to a side door, they again threw him, this time on a concrete floor. He slid across, feeling the burns on his arms as he scraped the rough surface. The Curthian made it seem like he was having trouble getting up, as if they'd really hurt him.

The soldiers actually laughed, "Humans are so weak," came through his translator. "It will be a pleasure to kill them. It will be amusing to see how they die."

Two of the captured scientists came over and helped him stand. Markus faltered, having them catch him, so he could softly say in their ears, "Please don't give me away."

They looked questioningly at him and said nothing about him but instead pointed their words at the canines. "You're interrupting our work," one of the men told the Bothians. "If you want results then get out!"

Marcus noticed one of the soldiers had a translator around his collar. The doglike creature came over and pointed his gun at the scientist's forehead, "You better get results, human, or we'll fry your brain." He then stepped back and went out with his fellow soldiers following him.

"Thank you for not saying anything," Markus began but the man put his fingers to his lips and pointed to under the laboratory's long table. When the Curthian looked he saw the auditory bug attached to the counter's bottom. So, they are registering everything that was being said _._ He straightened and said, "Glad to see you again, Ned, although I wish it was under better circumstances. Our damn army helicopter crashed and the Bothians captured me. Back at Fort Ludin, we have been wondering how you were. Now I'm in the same boat as the rest of you."

His eyes took in the seven scientists. They stood before him with very few clothes on. The men had tiny underwear. The one female scientist was the same except she had a skimpy bra. All seven were shaved bald. He tried not to gawk but he couldn't help it. The seven scientists looked malnourished; their ribs were easily seen.

"They want to make sure we can't hide anything," the scientist he recognized as Ben Coste told him. "They also have a revulsion for us having any hair on our bodies."

"But they are covered in fur, grant you blue fur, but nevertheless they have plenty of hair!" Markus was shocked.

"Maybe it's to make sure we don't resemble them in any way," the woman scientist Shana Litenis the only woman, expounded. "You'll be meeting with a dog called Morkel. He shaves us once a week."

Markus felt nauseated, the Bothians were barbarians. He scrutinized the lab. Several long tables with a variety of electronic equipment and several computer terminals were set up. The Curthian couldn't see any place to hide his screwdriver and army knife.

"They don't give us much," Cofflin Mcabe waved his arms as if to emphasize his point. "They check every night, including frisking us."

Markus looked around seeing two doors. The first one he opened was a tiny bunkhouse with plain cots put against the sides - no pillows or blankets. There was no place to hide his tools. The next door was just a simple bathroom. A small porcelain sink and a toilet were the only things in the room. He crossed to the toilet. Taking the back off the commode, he placed his two tools in the water. Given the Bothian's aversion to water, he felt his escape instruments were safely hidden. Hopefully, he'd be using them shortly anyway.

When he joined the others, Cofflin and Shana started singing loudly. Ben motioned him over, talking softly. "We all take turns singing so we can talk. Pretend we are looking over this computer screen, they have a tendency to come walking in unannounced." He looked around cautiously, "Who are you?"

"Federation Command sent me to rescue you. Unfortunately, we only have a few days before they bomb this island to smithereens. We need to escape soon, they'll have rescue boats off shore."

"There is no escaping," Ben shook his head. "Besides the jungle being completely infested with unbearable insects that would eat us alive with no clothes, the Bothians have also covered the shores with glass shards. Just in case you haven't noticed we have no shoes to protect us."

"Leave the escape to me," Markus patted the scientist's bone thin arm. "I'll worry about us getting out of here. I'll just need you to cover for me and do exactly what I tell you to do. I'll let you explain to the others."

"I feel sorry that you've wasted your life trying to save us," Ben sadly informed the Curthian. "They have this island tied up tightly. You'll soon see."

As if the doggish creatures had been called, two soldiers barged in grabbing Markus. He heard Shana sob as they dragged him out. Ben was comforting her. "Get to work," one of the soldiers yelled back, "or nothing to eat today!"

Markus couldn't even get his feet under him, as they dragged him outside to another third building. He looked around the best he could as his feet dragged on a fine gravel yard. There seemed to be five buildings that surrounded a large courtyard. The scientists were being held in the shabbiest one. The building he was brought into was better constructed and seemed almost like an infirmary with whitewashed walls. At the end of the hall, he was shoved into what looked almost like a doctor's office with a long metal table gracing the center. Harsh fluorescent lights hung from the tiled ceiling panels. The floor was white cement with a drain right in the middle. No windows, one door, which they slammed shut leaving him alone with his thoughts.

His mind began forming an escape plan. First he'd have to find them clothes, including shoes. He'd notice a thick metal fence that encircled the compound, but thank goodness no barbed wire ran on the top. This wasn't a serious high-security prison. There was a small guard tower at one end, next to a compound gate. The tower provided a good view of the surrounding area. He'd bet there were cameras and spotlights on top for video-capture enhancement.

That was as far as he got when the door opened. An immense animal walked in. He had a shaving implement in every one of his four arms. The dog creature smiled, "Time for a hair shave, human scum." The next hour was not pleasant.

He walked out of the building looking just like the other scientists. His hand went to his baldhead remembering the thick bush of hair that now lay on the cutting room floor. Although the dog's assistants had completely washed him down, his skin felt itchy and despite the underwear he felt naked.

All seven scientists looked up when he was shoved back into the lab. All grimaced as if remembering their own ordeal. "I see you have been introduced to Morkel," Ben sarcastically remarked. He waved his hand and all seven scientists started sarcastically barking loudly. After a few moments the guards marched in yelling, "Stop it!" Their guns pointed at the woman, "we will shoot her!"

They all shut up. The guards left slamming the door shut. "We love to irritate them," Ben told Markus. "Come let's bring you up to speed and get you working on something." He winked his eye and waved the Curthian over.

The rest of the day Markus looked over the work the scientists had been doing. It was even obvious to him that the researchers had been going in circles and dragging their feet. While Ned and Mort sang the Federation Anthem as loud as they could, Ben explained, "We won't be able to fool them much longer. From what I've gathered some of their own researchers are due here any time. They'll know we haven't gotten much accomplished."

"Just a few more days," Markus assured him. "Fool them just for a couple of more days."

As night fell, the guards gave them a bowl full of brown slop. It smelled horrible; his sensitive nose smelled something strange. The slop was laced with sleeping inducements. He took his own bowl and dumped it down the bathroom toilet.

"You should eat," Ben explained that the food was all they got - once a day. Then as night began to fall the eight scientists were locked into the windowless bunkhouse. Ted had warned him to use the bathroom as the bunkhouse door was not unlocked until morning.

The tiny enclosure was stuffy and the cot was saggy. In the total darkness Ben's voice carried over to the Curthian, "We can talk freely in here. I have scoured the room and there are no bugs. I guess they think there is nothing of importance we will say in here."

Or they think you're drugged so they needn't worry _,_ Markus' angry brain thought.

"Who are you?" Shana's bed was next to him. "Really, who are you?" she repeated. "I don't see how you can get us out of here. Are you some super human rescuer?"

"I belong to a special hostage rescue unit," he replied to the darkness that seemed absolute. It amazed him that the researchers had not lost their minds being cooped up as they were. "I will get you out, trust me."

"It would be nice to see my little girl again," Molt's voice almost sobbed. "I've adjusted myself to dying."

"Come on Molt, we have to keep our spirits up," Ben said. "Tell us your plans Doctor Mase, give us some hope."

"Call me Markus, I'm not a doctor of biochemistry. My degree is in self-defense and self-preservation. I will get you to the small beach I saw when I was flown in. There will be rescue boats looking for our signal. You'll have to trust me that I can do this. Whatever I tell you to do - you must do it. No questions asked! Understand?"

Seven "yeses" came from the darkness.

"When can you do this?" It was Shana again. The female researcher had moved to sit next to him. "I'll admit it, I'm not ready to die." She sobbed then seemed to catch herself taking a deep breath. Markus put his arm around her shoulders and hugged. Just the closeness of her body seemed to comfort his own fears that had been edging in since coming to this hell island. The isolation and total disregard for their wellbeing was daunting.

"We will have to get out of here soon. No later than the day after tomorrow as this island will cease to exist after that. I will get us out." The woman scientist took one last deep breath, squeezed his hand and then left.

Around midnight, hearing the deep soft snores of his fellow prisoners. He had no doubt the scientists were drugged until morning. Markus rolled out of bed. His eyes became shiny like a cat allowing him night vision. Silently, he approached the door. Using the screwdriver that he'd gotten out of the bathroom just before being locked up, he picked open the door's lock.

The Curthian had already turned his body as black as it would go so that he could blend with the night unseen. He crossed the lab, the glow of the computer screens throwing eerie shadows against the walls. The lab's door was not even locked. They were obviously not worried about a prisoners' escape. Outside, he flattened himself against the dark wooden building, getting his bearings.

It took several minutes for him to scope out the courtyard. He noticed the tower had small lights on. There was clearly someone up there but the lack of guards in the compound made him doubly cautious. He edged his way toward the largest building.

It was obviously the soldiers' barracks as it was covered in small opening windows, probably sleeping quarters. At the end was a covered screened-in eating space with picnic tables filling the area. The mess kitchen was probably attached. He kept a wide berth of this facility, instead heading to a metal type hanger.

It was a good thing that he'd not let his guard down as two Bothians came into the courtyard. Both were heavily armed but were not on alert as they rambled along. "Did you check the gate?" one guard asked the other.

"Yeah, all locked up and quiet. Want to play some cards?" he asked.

"Only if you promise not to cheat!" the soldier chided the other. "It is so fucking boring. Soon it should be interesting with the top brass visiting. You can bet we will eat well then." Markus wondered if they played four handed. He actually smiled at the thought of the four-armed dogs cheating themselves.

"Yeah, we spent the day cleaning the compound. Those damn humans ain't worth it. I say kill them now and be done with it."

"Soon enough," the second soldier sounded annoyed. "I guess the command is coming to see if it is worth keeping them."

"It ain't," his companion laughingly asserted. "I heard they aren't getting the results top command wants. That's why they are sending someone to check." They moved out of range, probably heading towards a place to play cards.

Markus breathed a sigh of relief and headed toward a side door of the hanger. To his surprise the door wasn't locked. Evidently the Bothians weren't worried about the scientists escaping. They must figure the island impenetrable. Stupid dogs, Markus thought, better for me _._

He carefully scanned the area. The hanger was almost completely opened with several helicopters stored in the center. He headed towards the side rooms. Each room proved to be a storage area for supplies. In one room he found a flashlight. He scoured the room but found only one. It would have to do!

Another room seemed more organized and used. It was in this room, in a closet, that he found the scientists' army uniforms, including his own. The clothes had all been stuffed into a large black garbage type bag. He searched the room and found an empty bag. He filled it with rags he'd seen in another room. When it looked about the same size as the uniform bag he stuffed it back in. Hopefully, they wouldn't notice until after they had escaped.

Markus did not find their boots. Damn dogs are probably wearing them! silently came into his head. He put the bag just outside the door. It was heavy. He would have to bulk up his body making his arms muscle-bound. This would allow him to carry the bag back to their prison, but first things first. He had to search so he could report to the army command what exactly was happening on this hellhole island.

He inched down the hallway. His sensitive nose picked up on the smell of blue fur. It warned him before he saw the guard in the back part of the hanger. Using his sensitive cat eyes, he watched the sentry. The canine did not move. The Major realized the creature was sitting on the floor with its back against the wall sleeping. Shit! He needed to see what was in the back part of the hanger. He'd already seen the crates stacked almost to the ceiling and needed to know what was in them.

He looked down at his left hand. A long sharp talon that could be recessed appeared. Wincing, the Curthian grew it until it was long enough to stab the Bothian guard if he needed kill him. Falling to his knees, his legs became sleek with four paws. Markus hung close to the wall creeping forward like a cat, silently approaching the crates. He was so close he could hear the guard snoring. Tons of crates lined the back walls. Approaching the boxes, the Major drew back in surprise - way back!

The crates were marked with the universal radioactive warning symbol. Taking a deep breath he inched forward, needing to read exactly what was stenciled on them. Markus lost his breath, letting the talon extend when the guard stirred but thankfully the Bothian just turned over, sniffed and sneezed, then went back to sleep.

The Major again lost his breath when he read the small print on the boxes. They were atomic cluster bombs. Totally illegal as far as the Federation Council rules of war went, but then the Bothians were not part of the Federation. Barbarians! He wondered if Fed Command already knew. Is that why they were blowing the island apart? He bet it was and he'd want to be far away when these babies blew.

It was then that he noticed the bright yellow fluorescent radiation suits hung in a back corner. What really caught his attention were the matching radiation booties. They were stacked in an open yellow plastic box. He reached in and counted out eight pairs, stuffing them under his arms.

He carefully went back down the hall, changing to a bulky black muscle-bound man and grabbed the uniforms but not before stuffing the yellow booties inside. He edged out back to the courtyard, keeping to the shadows and letting his sharp eyes and sensitive nose look for the guards. He made it back to the shed, slipping back into the laboratory. Dropping the black bag, his body leaned against the door and caught his breath. Markus looked menacingly different in the dull glow of the laboratory lights.

"Who are you?" came from a shadow that stood before him. It was Shana. Behind her was Ben, who had a combative stance. The scientist had a microscope that he had raised as if to strike Markus.

"Stop, it's me!" the Curthian softly said so the lab audio bug wouldn't pick it up. He grabbed the bag and headed into the bunkroom where he could talk. Once they were in, he breathed deeply. "Give me a minute," he explained as he returned his body to normal. When he looked like Markus Mase again, he sat on the cot. "Why aren't you two sleeping, the food they give you is drugged?"

"We know," Shana explained. "We take turns skipping."

"Markus? How?" Ben's voice shot over in the dark room.

But it was Shana that answered, "He's a Curthian? Aren't you?" Her hand touched him in the dark assuring herself that he was again the man that had guaranteed them he would get them out of this hell hole.

"Yes, you're right," He said toward the direction he assumed Shana was.

"A changeling," Ben piped in. "I've never, ever thought I'd meet one. You are a rare species."

Markus was used to the surprise, the wonderment and yes at times the suspicious anger. Those that did not understand often misjudged. Many did not realize that he was still human, but that he had a strange physiology and was not some magician or demon. They didn't realize he wasn't a sorcerer but that he was a person with soft changing bones and chemical attributes that effected his body. Although different, he had his limits too.

The woman researcher's voice seemed to float over him, "I knew one once. A woman who was a professor's assistant at University U. She took hours to change though. You just did it in less than a few minutes." Shana, from her darkened corner expounded even further, "She was limited in what she could do. For instance, you have to remain the sex that you are. Also you have to have come in contact at sometime with what you change into. Actual contact, not just a picture."

"Yes, correct but some of us are better changers than others and lots of times it depends on the worlds we are on, given gravitational pull, climate temperature, etc." Markus told the voices in the darkness. "A few of us have the versatility of rapid change."

"Wow," Ben sounded half scared. "I don't think you'd want the Bothians to know. They'd kill you right away. They are superstitious bastards."

"Oh, I'm sure," Markus told them. "Hopefully I'll be long gone before they can even guess. Here, help me get this bag under my cot. I found your uniforms. We will need them soon when we escape." Shana helped him shove the bag as far under the cot as they could, pushing it against the wall.

As he lay in bed listening to their snores his mind wandered to the crates. The devastation the cluster bombs would cause would take centuries to fix. He had no doubt that once they blew the island up this whole part of the ocean would be a "no fly", "no enter", area for many years to come. Damn dogs!

In the morning he was sluggish and sore. Whenever his body changed often it took a lot out of him. His bones and muscles would be sore for days. He also itched on the upper part of his arm. Shana came over to look at his rash. "You got bit by a Tschi Flea. You're gonna be really sick tomorrow, probably even later today. I'm sorry." He looked into her blue eyes that were filled with anguish. He bet she was a nice looking woman before her capture, now she was all sharp angles and bones.

"What medicine can I take? I can't be sick!" he told her.

"They have a shot, but you won't get it. The Bothians could care less. It's not fatal, you'll just be sick with a fever and perhaps a little delirious for a day. Then you'll be fine. We've all had it."

Markus couldn't believe it. Of all the times! In a typical Curthian manner he accepted it and went on. He'd have to get them out tonight. He spent the rest of the day pretending he was helping Ben on his research. Mostly he went over in his head his plans of escape. He wanted to make sure he'd not overlooked anything.

It was early afternoon when two sizeable Bothian henchmen came in and grabbed Ben, dragging him out of the room. "No, take me," Mort, throwing himself in front of them, pleaded. "He's too old, take me!" Using one heavy paw, one of the guards hit the skinny little scientist and tossed him against the wall like a rag doll.

"Leave him alone," Shana clutched one of the canine's arms and got a hard swat that sent her reeling back against the bathroom door. She was momentarily stunned but jumped up and would have gotten another swat if Markus hadn't held her back.

"What's going on?" he asked her.

"They take turns torturing one of us, trying to get information out of us. Poor Ben! He's 64 years old, they'll kill him." She sobbed, sinking down to the ground. The woman sat grabbing her knees and weeping.

"Bastards!" the biochemist Ned Baxter yelled at the audio bug under the table.

A blue-furred four-armed dog stuck his head in the doorway. His translator barked at them, "Get to work or all you will die, NOW!" When he swung the lab door open, in two of its arms were stun guns pointed right at them. The remaining scientists shuffled back to their research tables. Cofflin and Mort started singing as loud as they could.

"They will discover soon that we aren't making any progress," Shana whispered to Markus. "If you're going to get us out, it better be real soon."

The Curthian had thought the same thing. The escape had to be tonight. If he'd understood the guards right, the upper command with their own scientists were coming in soon. All hell would break out once they realized the scientists weren't really cooperating.

To make matters worse, Markus knew that he was getting sick. Being a changeling, he was super aware of his own body. He could feel his inner biological structure and it was screaming that it was under attack by the flea's poison. Being aware didn't help in this case. He had no way of stopping the flea's venomous assault without the medical shot. He could only try and delay it by strengthening his immune system as best he could.

Late afternoon Ben was thrown back into their lab room. He staggered in and fell into Mort's arms. The older man looked like hell. His legs and stomach were marred with burn marks. One of his eyes was bloody and blackened. As Mort lowered him to the ground, Shana rushed over washing his face and cradling his head.

"Where does it hurt, Ben?" she whispered to him.

"Everywhere," he mumbled and passed out. They carried him to one of the cots but had to leave him as the guards came in and told them to get back to work. Markus felt his face flush in anger but said nothing. The Curthian was worried; Ben was in no shape to walk. They would have to carry him to the escape beach.

Night came and they were shoved once more into the small bunkroom. He had warned everyone not to eat. They had all flushed their meals down the toilet. Ben had actually sat up when they first entered into the bedroom. "I'm alright," he weakly told Markus. Both of his eyes were now black and bruises covered his entire body.

"We can't escape tonight," Shana grabbed his arm, "Ben can't make it and you feel hot."

"We have to," Markus responded. His head was pounding. "The upper Bothian brass is coming here tomorrow. I heard the guards talking last night. The dogs will know you haven't been really working on finding the stun gun antidote override. They'll kill you."

He heard her gasp. "We'll never make it."

"Yes, you will," he forcefully told her. "Get everyone in their uniforms and each of you put on the booties I found. Remember the Bothians have glass shards not only on the beach but also in the surrounding waters." Markus found the one small flashlight and turned it on. "Hurry, find your clothes and dress. I don't want to waste the charge in this flashlight."

The dim lit room became noisy as each of the scientists separated the uniforms and found their own. Each one put on the bright yellow fluorescent booties. The Curthian shook his head. He hoped the slippers wouldn't give them away but they couldn't do without them.

Every one helped dress Ben, who moaned as each piece of clothing was fitted to him. Markus quickly found his own uniform and dressed. Without any body hair the clothing felt itchy. He was beginning to sweat as his body fever was filtering into his muscles. The soldier in him shook it off. He had to get these people to the beach!

He got everyone into the lab. "Complete silence!" Markus warned them as he approached the outside door. "The Bothians have sensitive hearing." He led them out the lab door after checking that the courtyard was empty. With Mort and Ned holding up Ben between them, they skirted along their building.

Markus once again changed to dark skin. He then took on his cat eyes and grew long claws on his hands. Fear now showed in every one of the scientists' face as they watched him change. The Curthian had seen it before - frightened of someone who was different - wondering who was worse, the dogs or this changing demon. Yet when he waved them on, the group followed silently.

To his dismay, the two guards came strolling around the side of the sleeping barracks. The Major didn't hesitate; he caught them from behind and with his combat training he killed them within seconds, ripping out their throats before they could yell. He heard Shana gasp, while the others just stood their gapping. They were not soldiers but researchers, war had just touched them and their minds were grappling with its brutality.

"Can you use these?" he tried to hand Cofflin and Lars the guards' two weapons. They both shook their heads no. It was Shana who grabbed one.

"I can," she told him. Well at least he had one armed person. He strapped one of the guard's long gun around his own shoulder. He led them on; he hadn't time to check to see if anything else the guards had was useable. They could be missed at any time. He had everything they needed to escape. Time was of the essence.

"Come on," we have to get below that tower. He pointed to the guards' high post. "The gate leading out is there." Mort and Ned had to drag the now unconscious Ben between them. He snaked them around the building, holding the scientists back at the nearest covered area from the guard tower. "Wait here, I'll be right back."

Leaving his florescent booties behind, he cautiously ran across the small opened space to the bottom of the tower. Wide wooden stairs started up the structure to his left. Markus dared not use the stairs, the guards would hear him coming. He concentrated on his feet, claws appeared. He climbed, silently grabbing onto the wooden support beams. Just below the platform through his translator he heard the grumbling of bored tower guards.

"This ain't right," one of the guards complained, "we were suppose to be relieved almost an hour ago. Damn Jola, he's probably whoring with that new recruit. Wait 'til I get my paws on him."

Shit! Markus thought, the guard is changing soon! Without hesitating he jumped onto the platform. The two surprised guards went to grab their weapons but he was too quick as he knocked both their weapons away and swiftly stabbed both the guards with his long talons right in the middle of their chests. He'd studied the Bothians physiology before the mission, their hearts were right the middle between their two lungs. He threw the 2 doggish guards over the side of the platform, both were dead before they hit the ground.

He looked around. First, using his sharp claws, he destroyed every piece of equipment in the tower including their radar tracking devices and their bright searchlights. He had no doubt, however, that alarms were now loudly going off in their island command center. Hopefully, it being the middle of the night, the Bothians would be slow in responding.

Markus didn't wait around but quickly descended. He found his escapees all huddled together, wide eyed and scared. Their gazes went from the dead guards then back to him. They looked aghast at this murdering dark-skinned, clawed person. When he waved for the scientists to follow him, they just stood rooted to their spots, in uncomprehending disbelief. He'd seen it before, horror shock. Despite their hatred of the Bothians, death was still death.

He went over to Shana and shook her being careful with his claws, "Help me get them out of here! Do you all want to die?" he yelled at them. Her large eyes seemed to stare blankly at his face. The researchers seemed frozen in time.

It was Ben, hanging between Mort and Ned moaning loudly, that got them moving. "Help him, get us out of this hell hole," the old scientist whimpered. It did the trick, they followed Markus silently to the gate. It had a huge padlock on the doorframe. Markus went over to the dead guards, searching, he found a set of keys. Sure enough, one of the keys opened the lock. He pushed all seven researchers through the opening.

The jungle immediately enveloped them. A small dirt driveway was the only sign of civilization. On either side were wide large banyan trees and thick hanging vines. The noise of the night insects was loud and forewarning. They were immediately attacked with stinging mosquitos.

"Keep moving," Markus headed out down the road. If he was right, safety lay to the north where they would find that beach. That meant heading off the path and into the jungle proper soon. It did not help that a loud siren sounded as they headed between two humongous banyan trees. Their escape had been discovered!

Looking at the evening sky he calculated that the beach lay to their left. If his observations from the helicopter were right, he thought it was about two miles. He prayed Ben could make it. He also prayed that their captors could not see them through the thick jungle overhangs above as they began to hear search helicopters. Strong spotlights could be seen scanning the jungle. The Bothians seemed to be concentrating on east of the compound where the road went to their docks. Good, he thought, the canines think we are going to try and escape by the wharfs _._

He also felt extremely sick as the fever now racked his body, but by using his intensive mental combat training he ignored it, pushing it to the back of his brain. As long as his mind didn't start playing games with him, he'd be all right. The soldier had been through worse, although right now he couldn't think of any similar situation. Once more the Curthian thought about why he was doing this!

Mort and Ned both fell together, dropping Ben unceremoniously to the ground. They had gone over a mile, but now they were exhausted. Markus' mind reeled; they'd never make it. His sharp ears picked up a tracking team not more than a quarter of a mile away. He stopped to take stock of his surroundings. Grabbing Shana, he shouted, "Listen carefully, take this flashlight. Get them to the beach about half a mile ahead. Head them into the water, at least up to your waist. Then use the flashlight - two short flashes, then one ten second flash. Repeat until they come get you. Have you got it?"

"What! We are not leaving you!" her voice cracked with fear.

He didn't have time to argue with her. "I'll be along shortly with Ben. Go! It's our only chance. NOW!" He shoved her down the escape route. Mort also gave him a hard time but fear overtook the small researcher. The group fled towards the beach, leaving Ben behind with Markus.

As he watched them hurry away he took the sick scientist and placed him behind a banyan. "I'll be right back," he told Ben.

"Please, just leave me," the biochemist said, holding tight onto Markus' arm. "Leave me," he barely got the words out.

"I'm not leaving either one of us to these dogs. Just stay quiet." Then he made it back to where they had been escaping to the beach. Using a burst of energy he shrunk his body into the shape of a large panther. Animal shapes did not come easy to him. It hurt like hell given how the sickness was beginning to really affect him. He grew his claws even longer; his mouth became full of sharp fangs.

Five Bothians came snorting down the trail. Their large snouts were hugging the ground, smelling out the escapees' path. They weren't being careful. Why would they when their prey consisted of eight weak scientists? Capture would be easy. Come on you bastards _,_ he geared himself up, letting his rage overtake his fear, his sickness. Come on!

When they were so close he could easily smell their stink, he pounced. The first two he killed easily. Another he knocked unconscious with his large paw then crushed his skull. The remaining two shot at him but he was ready, jumping up into a tree, he came at them from behind. They began shooting indiscriminately as they had lost sight of him. Markus ripped one of the Bothian's furry back and legs until the soldier fell to the ground unconscious. He at first tried to disarm the last pursuer, half taking one of canine's arms off. Still the Bothian shot at him with a second weapon in another of his four arms. The stun gun grazed Markus. He winced, feeling a wound on his back hind but he jumped the dog and ripped his neck out.

He was winded and covered in green blood. The Curthian forced himself to go back to his human form, staggering to Ben's hiding place. Markus' fever was now intense. He was sweating profusely. The soldier took a moment to get ahold of himself. At the banyan tree, Ben had blacked out. The man was dead weight. He would have to carry him.

He let his body shrink to become shorter and bulkier. It took everything he had, but he needed massive muscles if he was going to carry the scientist. Taking a deep breath, he lifted Ben onto his shoulder. Slowly he started down to where he guessed the beach lay.

The shore came into focus, it's light colored sandy beach standing out with the reflection of their moon. Letting Ben down slowly to the ground he looked around. No one was in sight but he saw foot prints. Yes! It was then that he realized he'd left his booties back on the trail when he had changed shape.

Shit! Hoisting Ben once more on his shoulders, gritting his teeth he went down to the water. Shards of glass cut into the bottom of his feet. He kept going into the water, again feeling the glass cutting his feet. He finally got far enough out that he could get some relief from floating. Now what? He didn't have anything to signal with. He yelled out but nothing but silence greeted him. They must have left without the two of them.

Well, at least I saved most of them. You know you're a fool! His mind screamed at him. It proves I'm a human _,_ he actually laughed. The fever was making him crazy although the water felt cool. Ben became slightly conscious.

"Did we make it?" Ben mumbled as Markus held on to him.

"Sort of," Markus tried to comfort the hurt man. Let him die in comfort.

"Thank you," Ben whispered and went unconscious again. Markus tugged him further into the water dragging the dead weight with him. He floated on his back, looking upwards. The sky was full of sparkling stars. One of those is home _,_ his mind searched the heavens. He was getting delirious. Maybe I should turn myself into a fish _,_ his mind laughed. Nope, can't do that _,_ he snickered, not mammal shaped, not compatible. But then... his mind gave way. In his delirium, Markus began changing into a fish. He felt himself drowning trying to take water into his gills.

Suddenly he was caught in a fishnet. "Leave me be!" he croaked. Air filled his lungs, he gasped. He was a fish, wasn't he? Let me back into the water.

"Major, Major," strong hands grasped him as they drew him over the side of the rescue boat. They pressed hard on his chest. Pumping until he threw up. He heard Shana close by.

"He got bit by a Tschi Flea, he's sick!" she yelled.

"Get me the medical kit," it was Corporal Allen's voice that Markus heard through his foggy brain. He felt the needle when it went into his arm. He also felt the medicine stream through his body. He traced it as the antidote attacked every organ in his body, overtaking the Tschi poison. His body was changing back to his Curthian shape - a tall, thin, pale man. His brain registered a sedative that was trying to make him sleep. He fought it as best he could but he knew it was a losing battle.

With the help of Shana and the Corporal he sat up as the grogginess started to fill his brain. He was sitting on the floor of a fishing boat - the rescue ship they had promised would pick them up. It had worked! Close by he saw several medics working on Ben.

"Will he be okay?" he asked between fighting the sedative.

"They think so," Shana was the one who answered him. "Thank god we found you. The Corporal wouldn't leave without you. Ben's fluorescent booties led us to you."

"Where are we?" he asked Allen.

"We're running as fast as we can away from Hades." The words had hardly gotten out of the Corporal's mouth when large booming sounds floated over the ship, rocking it violently.

Markus looked out to the east; the sky was lit up. They were destroying the island. They were hitting it with everything they had. The horizon was brightly lit up. Despite fighting the sedative shot, the Curthian felt himself losing consciousness. "Don't worry, Major. We got you, you'll be just fine." Corporal Allen patted his arm.

He heard a remark from one of the crewmembers through the haze of coming sleep, "What the hell is he, did you see how he changed?"

It was Shana's last words that came roaring into his brain, "He's a human, you idiot, a wonderful different human."

# Thank You!

Thank you for taking time to read Soldiers Three - Warriors of Strength.

If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is any author's best friend and is much appreciated.

#  Also by Pj Belanger:

The Houses of Storem - Epic Fantasy

The Thunderstone

The Treachery

The Triad

Space Detective - A Skip Brown Adventure

Murder on Nestor – Race to Death

Murder on M.O.S.S. – Medical Mayhem

Murder on Hilda – Slippery Slopes

Murder on Casey – Plains on Fire

Collections of Sci-Fi/Fantasy short stories

Sci-Fi à-la-mode

Soldiers One – Warriors of Misfortune

Soldiers Two – Warriors of Courage

Soldiers Three – Warriors of Strength

Coming soon: new Fantasy series

Mage Riders

Six young wizards are stripped of their powers by their King

until they can prove themselves as worthy warriors

Available at all major online retailers

See more information at

http://www.pjbelanger.com

# Coming – Fall 2017

First book in the new Epic Fantasy Series

