The cat-fur followed Arget to the elevator, looking him over curiously.  When he asked, she only shook her head slowly and answered, "He never showed up today.  Nobody else did.  Well, a couple did, but then they left and went home again.  It's really just been me here all morning."  Her long tail flicked behind her.  "But, wait a minute... you look like you're mostly human, why would you want to help Lord Arkit anyway?"<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>It had been far too long that she had been out of contact. The black-suited woman had been backtracking her way across the city for several hours. Her mission was a complete success – Arkit Sasa had been tastefully eliminated a few hours after the war had begun. Police were likely at the mansion now, carefully deducing that Lord Arkit and his plain wife were simply gone; apparently having vanished into thin air. There would be no evidence of a break-in, nor any disruption of the hired thugs guarding the Sasa home. Even the Lord’s children, sleeping comfortably in their slave-built beds, hadn’t been disturbed. That was as it should have been.<br/>And now, as she took a moment to rest against the quiet rooftop chimney-stack of a hotel in east-central Kazmer, the Shadow remembered what she had done next. Next, that is, after she had carefully and cleanly devoured Lord and Lady Sasa. She’d lain there for hours, luxuriating in the sensation of becoming a predator. It had been a glorious, victorious time. In her position, it had not been seemly to allow herself a more easy or lightly-defended target. She’d had to take out Sasa, and she had to do it alone. All of her kind had to deal with the same, deliciously gruesome tasks. If she had been able to take out the Lady of Kazmer herself, she would have, but the Lady was a key component in Resistance plans. When it came time for her to leave, she had popped a handful of yellow pills and made a clean, unencumbered escape.<br/><br/>The highest-priority targets were to be eliminated the previous night. Anyone and everyone her small force could get to, they would. Now that the sun had risen and the violence had begun, anyone else that was valuable enough would be under significant protection, or on the frontlines. Further high-priority targets would be harder to get to than even Lord Arkit had been. The payoff would be less significant and the effort would increase. That was why each Shadow had only been given one mission on the first night. Situations were fluid now; it was likely that new targets would arise that had never been thought of in the whole of the time beforehand. Getting the biggest, most important missions done properly and in as much time as possible was considered the best path.<br/>She knew she had to get moving again. Sneaking across the city, devouring two individuals, then sneaking back in the building heat had sapped her energy, and sleep was tugging at the corners of her eyes. Still, she had been interested in the sounds of battle up ahead – nearer than they should have been, or than they had been predicted to be by this point. Then again, preparations and plans had always been made with pessimism as their chief influence. Humanity wanted to win, but expected to lose. In that way, all their efforts had been directed at covering every possible mutation of their supposedly inevitable defeat. “Prepare for the worst, and you’ll never have to meet it,” the old Commander had always said. She looked across the skyline of the city, the glare of the sun dampened by the grease-paint covering her face. Then she checked the street beneath her, to make sure there were none that could possibly see as she leapt from rooftop to rooftop.<br/><br/>To her surprise, she found a figure, a woman with flowing hair, running at a sprint along the side of a building a few blocks to her east. She squinted, pondering. This human was on the wrong side of the lines if she were Resistance, and even if she were she wasn’t wearing a uniform. She could have been a slave that had escaped her master, though, and in the confusion of the revolution was trying to make her way to freedom. Another glance and she saw the crossbow the woman carried, and the quiver on her back. An armed human female behind the lines, not in a uniform, was a puzzle. The Shadow’s creed was to work alone, but her mission was over, and her curiosity was peaked. It was her business to remain unseen, however, and she made sure to do so as she climbed down the side of the factory and into an alleyway adjoining the oncoming woman’s path. Her padded shoes, her jet-black, form-fitted clothes, her greasepaint and scent neutralizing chemicals – all combined to make her as unnoticeable as possible. Added to her instinct and training, the Shadow was a veritable incarnation of her title.<br/><br/>She crouched low in the alley, silent, the sun’s angle throwing the whole passage into relative darkness. She waited for the woman to approach, and the moment she did, her gentle hands would seize the woman by mouth and by hand, removing her ability to attack or cry out. She would then hastily drag the woman into the cover of the alley, and safety, and whisper, “Who are you?”<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Mag and Fwiin would definitely pick up the scent of battle now - flowing blood, burnt gunpowder, death.  The sounds were quite close, perhaps a block or two ahead.  Smoke was rising from a building hidden behind a cluster of others across the way.  It was certain that if they proceeded any further, they would get caught in the thick of it.  The way was clear to the east and west, however... it seemed the city's streets had been erased of all other life around here.  Westward lay more city; eastward there was a short expanse of development, and then the open desert would greet them once more.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Iln's speech did not fall on deaf ears.  All the Resistance troops in earshot gathered around to hear her speak, Janus and Fenson in the front row.  When she finished, every human took a moment to breathe deep, look at each other, then nod at her solemnly.  Nothing would shake the conviction of these soldiers.  Too much was at stake for them.<br/><br/>But still the SEM was walking away.  Those members of the original team that had been sent to guard them recognized the direction they were heading - Hempstead.<br/><br/>The remnants of Merelli's brigade formed up into a crowd, and anyone wearing a rank insignia of Lieutenant or higher were separated out from the crowd.  Eventually, command devolved onto one person - a short, thin woman with dark skin and tightly curled black hair.  She climbed onto a small stump nearby and held up her hands, drawing the crowd into silence.  Her brown eyes passed over the crowd.<br/><br/>"I'm Lieutenant Marcks.  I'm equal rank to a couple others here, but I've got seniority.  So I'm in charge until the Colonel gets better.  Any problems?"<br/><br/>Nobody moved or spoke.  Janus, Fenson, and Heretic remained by Iln's side, watching Marcks speak.<br/><br/>"Looks like the SEM is leaving.  They can have at it.  But our orders are plain and simple from the Commander; we've got to protect them.  That's what I'm determined to do.  I know also that the Colonel doesn't want us to move from this spot.  We took a beating not too long ago, we'll probably be out of the fight for a while."  Here she eyed Emiko, Marice, and Jenten.  "But I know some of us ain't part of the Colonel's brigade.  Am I right?"<br/><br/>Janus had a sinking feeling in his stomach.  That included him too.  To his dismay, Fenson piped up, "That's right, L-T!"<br/><br/>"All right then.  If you're not part of our brigade, get over here and talk to me.  'Coz guess what?  You're on guard duty now."<br/><br/>"Shit," Janus spat.  "Babysitting."<br/><br/>Fenson winced.  "I should've kept my mouth shut."<br/><br/>"Damn straight."  But Janus moved anyway, dragging his feet a bit in the grass.  He looked at Iln apologetically.  "I guess we're going, then.  Hopefully we'll be back soon."  Fenson followed.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Yes, indeed, she<span style="font-style: italic">was</span>part human.  As the wolf soldier watched the avian girl's mouth form words, he found the source of the hollow sound to her voice.  He true mouth was behind the beak that grew out of her face; he could barely see it moving through the partial opening.  It gave her a strange, surreal look, and all at once he found himself attracted and repulsed by her.  Still, there she was, butt-naked and begging, and the 'Master' she insisted on having was gone.  It was then that he noticed her wound for the first time - on her neck, just above the collarbone.  She was covering it with one yellow hand; he couldn't get a good look at it.<br/><br/>Just then his wounded arm twinged and he winced.  Someone had shot him, and if it wasn't her, then whoever it was had obviously gotten away.  He wouldn't have a chance of finding them again.  They'd left their weapon behind, though, so it was likely they weren't a threat anymore.  Regardless, the wolf was hurting, and he'd just been separated from the rest of his unit.  But he was deep in his own territory, and it was likely he wouldn't be missed for a while...<br/><br/>He licked his chops, eyeing the avian girl anew.  He had time.  Hell, she wouldn't be missed either, especially if she really had been abandoned.  And if it turned out she really was the sniper, as unlikely as that seemed now, he'd be doing the right thing anyway.  Hunger, coaxed into life by the lecherous movements of his eyes over her body, began gnawing at his gut.  He growled.  "Turn around, girlie.  All the way."  He wanted to see the whole package before he downed it.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Yuri's eyes betrayed next to nothing.  Dreamer was saying all the right things, or all the wrong ones.  Whichever they were, it wasn't evident from Yuri's expression.<br/><br/>The sedan holding the three other men found the edge of the road, its back tires slipping off the pavement and onto the grassy shoulder.  The man behind the wheel fidgeted, agitated.  He wasn't sure why Yuri had ordered them to pull out of the way - he had to know just as well as anyone else that the Bitch was an expert at manipulation.  What Dreamer was saying could easily have been a ploy of some kind, some way to weaken Shark's power before Kazmer's army showed up.  Still, Yuri had been smart not turning his back on the cyborg... if that's what he really was.<br/><br/>Then something clicked in the man's head.  If he was really indestructible, he would have wasted all of them as soon as they'd pulled out.  Maybe he just wasn't indestructible.  Maybe he was just as vulnerable as they were.  It was possible.  Either way, the man was not comfortable at all with the situation, and he was itching to get a notch on his gun.<br/><br/>He saw his chance.  The cyborg was following the station wagon as it slowly pulled in front of their car.  They lined up.<br/><br/>"Fuck it," he muttered.  His hand cranked the gear into drive, his foot slammed down on the gas pedal.  He didn't see himself losing in any of this.  Either way, the guy who killed Lanner would end up dead.<br/><br/>The sedan's engine roared and the front wheels slipped briefly on the asphalt before hurling the whole car forward, straight at Dreamer and the station wagon behind him.  Yuri was slow to react, his head jerking aside to watch in sudden shock as the sedan blew past him.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Halvorson rubbed his arm, feeling all the bite-wounds from the Sludge Freak under his fingers.  He listened to Baz as the rat spoke to Karogen, nodding in silent agreement.  When Karogen replied, Halvorson immediately piped up, "Oh, he is, kid.  You better believe he is."<br/><br/>He sidled up beside Mad and looked the vixen over from head to foot, but said nothing.  She wasn't a full-blown Reader, she said.  But he was curious as to just what she<span style="font-style: italic">was.</span><br/><br/>They were suddenly at the manhole.  It was still open.  Daylight shone in reflections off the underside of the truck parked over it, illuminating a shaft of air beneath the hole.  "We made it," Halvorson articulated with some relief.  He passed O'Toole off to Mad again.  "Me up first, then then wounded, then the kid, then everyone else."  As soon as he was sure Mad had a good grip on O'Toole's unwieldy body, he jumped, gripped the edge of the manhole, and pulled with all his might, lifting himself up though the tight opening enough to let one hand grip the hole in the truck's bottom.  Then he pulled again, his legs kicking a bit in the sewer, and managed to heave his torso up into the worse-smelling confines of the garbage truck.  He rested just a moment, his bottom half still plugging the hole, then pulled himself the rest of the way up, and, panting, spun around to hold his hands out and beckon for either O'Toole or the old man to be passed up to him.<br/><br/>At the moment, he didn't think that he ought to have been hearing or smelling Jania by then.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Jania was far enough down in the building that her singing didn't carry quite far enough to disturb the sinister proceedings on the roof.  Not just yet, anyway.