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The Wolf Pack, Episode I

Chapter 1 The Beginning

I live in a world and time not so unlike yours on Earth. Like your planet, mine is a source of diversity and curiosity, where alien races come and go. My job? Keeping the world in order. Simple, right? I’m not expected to accomplish the task single-handedly, it’s a team effort. Before I launch into tales of my world, let me give you a little background. Where to start? Ahh, that is the question, is it not?

We’ll end up talking about your Earth, but I’ll begin four centuries in the past, on a planet named Ballary. It’s a good place to start, but the people of Ballary were not at all in a good place at the time. They had minimal technical knowledge and education of outer space; just enough to be dangerous. When the mineral resources of their planet were exhausted, their mission was to extract what they needed from one of the three moons orbiting over them.

The first moon would have been a nice vacation destination. Tropical, no life forms larger than a small rodent, but no usable resources.

The second moon was like the inside of what you call a freezer. All ice and water. Strike two.

On the last moon, the necessary resources were plentiful. However, beneath the rocky terrain, the moon was volatile. Gaseous and violent, sprouting erupting volcanoes at any given moment. The decision to mine this unstable moon was ill-fated and resulted in catastrophe.

They broke the moon! Chunks of it rained down on Ballary. Tides and gravity, once kept in check by the delicate balance of the three moons, went out of control. By destroying the moon, they had destroyed their world; it was just a matter of time.

The people of Ballary decided it was time to vacate the premises before they brought about their own extinction. They decided to seek out a new planetary home and try not to ruin this one. Good luck with that, I have yet to find people who didn’t wreck their planet.

This may or may not be a foreign concept to you, but the Barbarians are a made race; that is to say, created by other beings, in this case, The Old Ones. The people of Ballary were The Old Ones’ servants, subsequently molded by Their hands to become mighty warriors. Whether the Old Ones considered the people a success or a failure, or were merely apathetic, is unknown. What is known is that they left the planet, and the people of Ballary to their own devices.

Which leads us back to the broken moon and impending destruction of the planet. The best minds of Balary brainstormed how their race could survive the end of their world. They carefully chose the best and brightest ten-year olds in their entire world. These were no ordinary ten-year olds; they had great wisdom, strength, and experience in many things, including exploration and combat. The chosen ones received boarding passes to a space station the size of several of your counties, were hurriedly wished well, and pushed away from the dying planet. No pressure, kids, but the future of an entire species is in your hands!

The huge ship blasted into the sky, headed for a place that according to their ancient science textbooks was inhabited by a similar race. Their best science stated that the makers of that planet’s race were from a planet known as Terra. Yes, your Earth. The voyage would take nearly forty years, even traveling at near light-speed. As imposing as the mission was, it was better than being among the millions left on the planet to suffer the rain of lethal chunks of the destroyed moon. There wasn’t an umbrella or roof strong enough, no shelter hidden enough to give any chance of survival.

Much like Earth’s youngsters, the Balarian youths were heavy on the accelerator. They found a way to push to light-speed and reduce the journey to thirty years. Also like Earth children, the Balarians were easily distracted, and so their travel included many stops and diversions. As a result, they found adventures, new places, and entire worlds they had not even fathomed existed. They tinkered with their space station, adding a lift to it. They came across a race of lizard people known as the Thinny. We will see those reptilian beings again later in our story.

The young Balarians made the most of their journey, and sure knew how to have a good time, but eventually it dawned on them that they should probably go about locating this “Terra.” It didn’t make sense to push their huge craft all over the galaxy, so they sent two smaller scout ships out. Their mission: find Terra, spend six months checking it out, and return with a full report. Naturally it turned competitive, but both teams had the same goal. The first crew was led by Iykina, who in 20 years was already one of Balary’s greatest soldiers and trackers. The other ship was captained by another war hero, and its team also included a certain frumpy wolf girl. You can be sure she’ll come up again in the story. At any rate, both teams were equally successful. Terra was located and reconnoitered, and the giant Balarian ship made a path for the planet.

On Earth, things were about to get interesting. Especially for an ordinary man thinking it was an ordinary day. Riding along the boundaries of his ranch, he heard a loud low hum and the ground beneath the horse’s hooves began to rumble. Next thing he knows, the man is thrown from the saddle onto the shaking earth. His faithful dog, rather than rushing to his rescue, barks nonstop and runs in circles as if its tail is the problem. The man stares up at the sky from his back and sees myriads of birds overhead in panicked flight. The sky darkens completely, even though it was early afternoon. It’s silent but for the barking of the dog, the whinnying of the horse, and some muttering from the rancher that might be prayer or cursing. And soon the only visible sight is the illuminated outline of what appears to be a giant star. It gets bigger and bigger, and it dawns on the rancher that it’s rushing toward him. Thinking it might be best to vacate like practically every other creature nearby, the man rolls over, launches himself at his horse, and manages to grab the reins. He saddles in a flash, like the cowboys in the old Westerns, whistles for his dog, and the three kick up dust and gravel hightailing it out of there.

And not a second too soon. As they clear the edge of the huge dark shadow, the huge “star” makes landfall. It’s not quite a crash, but it isn’t a soft landing either. There’s a sound and vibration like the world’s largest bass drum being struck with a sledge. When the ground is still, the rancher cannot believe what he sees. A huge city, make that cities, no, an entire countryside encased in a huge transparent dome! The man’s gaze slowly goes to the top of the giant dome, where there are towers sprouting out of it. When he hears a sound and looks back down, there are what appear to be ramps slowly lowering. The man is nearly paralyzed with fear, his horse is about exhausted, and his dog is alternating between yelps and growls, but he decides to make a hasty retreat. They find renewed energy that takes them all the way to the neighboring town.

The rancher does the only thing he can think of to do; bring the sheriff back to the landing site. The sheriff suspects he’s lit up on moonshine, but he gathers up his deputies and a small posse, and skeptically follows the rancher back. He’s quite reluctant to be in front, but he must lead the way.

Well, there’s no denying the huge ship exists, towering above the men. The sheriff points out what appears to be a door at the top of the ramp in front of them and gives his deputy a nudge forward. Wishful thinking! To a man, the entire group takes a step, some more than one, backward, making it clear that the sheriff must be the brave one. He’d rather run but he’d really rather not look yellow, so the sheriff ambles slowly, carefully up the ramp. He’s wondering how hard he should knock when the door opens. Now he does take some steps back, there’s what he can only describe as a mystical dust storm rushing past all the men. They feel the light tingle of mist on their faces as the view in front of them enshrouds in some unearthly fog. It begins to dissipate and their tension level is high.

In front of them stand … unknown creatures. They are human and yet they are not human, somewhat canine but not entirely. Tall, beautiful in form and physique, perfectly manicured and groomed. They look like the most statuesque of Earth’s supermodels combined with the strongest of Earth’s athletes. They step forward, not menacingly, one creature leading the way with his hands up in a peaceful gesture. When he is a step or two away from the Sheriff standing agape, the leader nods, and covers his heart, a gesture of respect and of greeting. I ought to say something, the stunned Sheriff thinks, and the something he comes up with is “Howdy.” Time stands still as everyone waits to see what will happen.

The imposing creature’s response is unmistakable. Smiles must be universal, and on his face clearly is a toothy grin.

And this is how my people, the Balarians, became the first new galactic emissaries to arrive on Terra. Welcome to planet Earth. The year? 1816 A.D.

Chapter 2 …. Black Dragon and Valkyrie

We can discuss the following centuries sometime, another century from now, perhaps. But for now, our story moves forward four hundred years to 2016…. Look up!. Further. Further… The robot towering above you is known as an A.G.M. It’s an acronym, of course, like TMZ or TMI – AGM stands for Armored Gear Mechs. They can be anywhere from 18 to 30 feet tall, and they are capable of a variety of tasks. Construction, science, and of course, military. Like all our best technology, AGMs’ best and most glorified applications are the military ones. These even had their own special designation, LBM – Large Mobile Bodysuits. But with the popularity of the Armored Gear Mechs in the Gulf War, and the Four Year War back in the 1980’s, few had not heard of an AGM. In fact, it’s not uncommon to see them daily, say, on one’s coffee run to the local Starbucks.

So other than a Grande Mochafrappuccino, where do you get stuff in 2016? victech that’s where. Need a farm tractor? Airplane? Spaceship? They got it. Biotechnology? Yes? Flamin’ Hot Cheetos? Quite likely; Victech is one of the world’s largest technology conglomerates. What they don’t manufacture, they likely own whoever does. And because you were going to ask, Victech does manufacture the tallest of the tall boys, the robots I just told you about. In fact, the founder of Victech is Victor, the one and the same Victor who created the original AGM. He’s a pretty big deal, this Victor. He keeps Victech at the top of their game by encouraging and backing innovation, always encouraging, and then always owning the latest technology. Courageously trying new things is what brings us to this point in the story…...

Two men walk into a hangar…

They’re in a remote location, a field somewhere in the southern portion of the Florida peninsula. I could give you exact coordinates, but I’m not going to. “Why does it look so… chic?” The shorter of the two is saying. The other man’s face wrinkles up like his white lab coat. “It isn’t supposed to,” he says, ‘It’s an F-type, designed so that it is light and fast.” “F-type, right,” the first man says, nodding. He cocks his head and adds, “F, as in Female.” Lab Coat Guy looks a little hurt, and hurries the man along to another mech.

This one is dripping with malevolence and intimidation. All black, all sharp edges. The massive chest has Victech’s trademark dual air intake, and armor from lower neck to waist. Its back features impressive gold wings, field generators. “I guess this one isn’t an F-type?” The man in the lab coat refuses to respond to the quip. Instead he huffs over to his desk and begins to sit behind it.

The shadows that fall across both men makes him pause mid-descent. Two… women? - they appear to be as tall and beautiful - Are in the hangar, approaching them. They don’t walk as much as slither across the floor, closing the distance quickly. Smart Aleck guy has a gun, and Lab Coat Guy moves a bit behind him as he warns the pair, “This is a restricted area! You do not belong here!” The peals of laughter that fill the hangar are not the response he expected, so he pulls his gun. It’s a big one; he’d never admit it but it’s an attempt to compensate for his short stature. It has never failed to command respect, however. Until now. The giggling intensifies as the women get closer.

“Stop! Stop! I’ll shoot!” he wastes more breath as his finger tightens on the trigger. The scientist is now cowering completely behind him, fingers in his ears. The gun’s report never comes, in fact, it is bouncing along the floor of the warehouse. The would-be shooter crashed landing in a pile of boxes far behind him. He rises shakily only to find his assailant towering over him, her head bent down so her face is in his. She has short hair, but is undoubtedly a cyborg , he says to himself. Attempting to appear in control, he demands, ``How did you move so fast?” Her answer is a smile and extending an arm that easily lifts the sputtering man off the ground by his throat. She holds her other hand up in front of his face so he can watch in horror as her talons extend, razor sharp and growing in length. The claws on the hand holding the man up likewise extend, and before he can speak any meaningless last words, his limp body is flung back into the boxes.

(don't know if i like this better than the other version)

{The scientist in the lab coat is no dummy, he is trying to get a head start on rush hour traffic and get out of town. Desperation gives him some extra speed, but his escape route is blocked. And what a blockage! Two women stand in front of him. The first is covered head to toe in a red and black bodysuit, a mask covering her face and a samurai sword making clear her intentions. The other woman is tall and black, with a perfect Afro, and a teal bodysuit that fits pretty well, if he’d had time to notice. But he doesn’t have much time at all. He asks, “Who are you?” The slice of a sword is the only answer, and his body falls to the floor. }

As the two women continue into the hangar, it becomes clear that they do indeed belong. After all, standing in front of them are mechs that match both their apparel and their ferocity. The woman in black and read climbs into a huge machine that is styled

The other man turns to run but he is met by two other women, one in an all red and black bodysuit with

a mask over face and a samurai sword. The other a tall black woman also in a bodysuit teal green with a

70’ish afro. He stops and says who.. Are you? They say nothing and the sound of a sword slice! The man

falls to the floor. The two women walk past him. He sees the walk over to the two mechs in the hanger.

The one in red climbs into a 10th century Japanese-styled mech that matches her sword. Her partner climbs into the other Female-Type mech, and with a hum and a snap, both cockpits close. Instantly the huge machines come to life, robotic bodies tightening around the females. Are they passengers in the huge AGM’s, or are they wearing them like a uniform? It’s a perfect fit either way, and there are two very imposing figures standing like unshakable pillars in the hangar.

But only for a moment. The two step forward, servos humming loudly as they engage. The sound brings guards from outside hurrying into mechs of their own to face the threat inside the hangar. The steel side of the hangar begins to glow, a spark becoming a flame, becoming a glowing line piercing through. A glowing sword slices through, and the steel, once described as impenetrable, is bisected and lying on the ground. All that can be seen from outside the violated stronghold is a pair of glowing green eyes. And the projectile that rockets forth from inside, destroying one of the mechs completely and severely damaging several others. From outside the remaining guards attempt to return fire, but the situation has already escalated out of their control. Both of the F-Type mechs burst out of the hangar, and the men can only watch as the samurai styled mech’s blinding gold wings unfold, and it flies through the midst of them firing a multitude of shots, each finding their target. Before her partner can complain that she was left no work to do, she turns to see a mech speeding straight at her. Her mech stands firmly in place. From behind her back, a gun that the late guard would have envied the size of unfolds. Before the incoming mech can fire or alter its course, the huge gun targets it, fires, and obliterates it, along with two surrounding structures and quite a bit of the landscape.

“Now that’s a weapon!” the pilot says, laughing. Her partner comes to a landing facing her. “Let’s stick to our mission,” the electronic yet unmistakably feminine voice instructs. They fly off as reinforcements arrive in soldier and robot form. Too late. They are gone. While the newly arrived soldiers watch their escape, a black SUV built like a tank with a rocket engine blasts through a gate. They turn and watch as it, too, escapes. They can only fight among themselves now.

On a far-off private air strip, the two F-Type mechs land, and the black SUV joins their rendezvous. A flight crew rolls up and extends ladders to the top of the towering AGM’s. Two cockpits pop open in unison, and the female passengers emerge. Two other females climb out of the still scratch and dent-free black vehicle. It must be a late model Ford Indissoluble.

The group all come to the Lawian, who is clearly in charge. She has a mature, refined look that says No games. She is a beautiful Lawian specimen, a mix of feline, humanoid, and cybernetic, which in fact, the Lawian species, one of the oldest in the galaxy .Her pale features and black hair are identical to all other Lawians, only the markings that wrap the sides of their head and trail down their back distinguish one from another. This one is special, a leader, a forger of the future. She nods approval at the females. “These will be most useful to The Plan.” The masked female is the first to address the Lawian. “So,” she says, apparently nonplussed, “What’s next?” She adds with no attention to decorum or station, “Hey, aren’t these your machines we have? Sweet ride.”

The Lawian is patient and direct as well. “On the record, no. My company does not have these.” There is an obvious wink in her tone. “Also, we certainly do not have (another wink) VicTech’s newest system installed. Because, of course, that would be illegal.”

She next directs praise to our demolishing and dazzling duo. “Katara,” she addresses the masked one, “You and Elexus have done well.” To the two in the indestructible SUV, she adds, “Also you, El, and Em.”

The Lawian turns away, and immediately it’s obvious who is now in charge. The flight crew stands at the ready before Katara and Elexus. “What do you say, shall we customize our mechs?” Katara is in agreement, telling the crew, “Repaint these, both of them, so they look their parts!” The men look lost, so she points to the Samurai styled AGM. “This one, paint the darkest shade possible - VANTA (vertically aligned nanotube arrays) black! The crew leader makes a mental note to find out where to procure Vantablack, and turns to Elexus. “And yours, what color shall it be?” It’s an easy answer to give. “Byzantium,” Elexus begins, but pauses when she sees the man’s look of bewilderment. “Purple,” she emphasizes. “Purple, and gold.” The crew leader gets it now. “So… like…”

“Yes!” Katara and Elexus say together. “Black Dragon, and Valkyrie!”