FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Shadowdancer

By Dracon

[Notice: The characters and events within are inspired by the "Gargoyles" TV Series and as such credit goes to the creators of said series. If any characters appear in the story from said series, those characters belong to their creators.

Should anyone wish to use the characters or events within in their own works, permission is hereby granted to do so. I just ask that you let me know if you are going to do so and provide credit in your work.

Underage viewers should not read this series, and all readers do so at their own risk.

The character of Sarill is copyright of Cassandra Foxx ([email protected]). Permission is not granted for use of this character. Contact her player for permission.]

Previously on Shadowdancer...

Jamie continued to read from the letter, "Make no mistake: War is coming, and sacrifices must be made in war. It is my fervent hope that you will be able to make a place for yourself here, but that is only a secondary concern." - "A Voice From The Other World..."

Maza reached into a pocket and pulled a palm-sized replica of the Presidential Seal from her jacket, tossing it onto the table with a clink. "You see this? I gave up my NYPD shield to take up this one. I won't let problems like this terrorize my people. It's just not going to happen." - "And Then There Was Silence..."

Sympathizing with Brooklyn, 'Seph told him, "...it was almost enough to break your will, your sorrow just a hair from overcoming you... but you persevered. It forged you into someone stronger, more capable... the person you were meant to be?"

Slamming her fist on the table again, 'Seph shouted, "I will not allow the future that I saw to come to pass!" - "Dusk to Dawn"

"The Huntress"

----Chapter 1----

Air Force Test Center, Detachment 3

Lincoln County, Nevada

December 3rd, 2027

4:26 P.M.

Dusk washed over the desert, painting it in shadow as the sun slipped slowly beneath the horizon. Ear-splitting cries pierced the warm air around the base, recalling the roaring engines that had been tested here, so many years ago.

'Seph yawned as she woke from her stone sleep, her arms laced behind Branson's back. Her face was twisted in a frown, but she pulled him closer to her bosom. The few gritty bits of lithodermis caught between them were ground into powder as they embraced, wrapping their wings around each other.

Her voice low, she said, "Good evening, my love. I trust that you slept better than I did? My dreams were troubled this morning. Nothing definite, just... agitation. I cannot describe it better than that, I'm afraid."

Branson nodded, laying his head against her shoulder, then told her, "Thanks for the warning, darling. I'll take the others out and run a patrol. I'll let you tell Brook what you told me. You," he lays a hand on her still-swollen womb, rubbing it gently, "need to go clean up, I think."

'Seph grumbled playfully as she broke from his embrace, "But, I don't want to," as she began to walk towards the barracks.

Meanwhile, a shadowy figure slowly uncurled from her perch, some sort of pipe that ran near a concrete ceiling, shrouded in darkness. Her hibernation had gone well, she felt, and her battle wounds seemed to have vanished with little trace. She felt... whole again. Looking around curiously, she began to wonder at that feeling. This didn't look like her quarters on the Valiant. It looked more like the bunkers she'd occasionally seen when hunting Yuatja, or those the Humans liked to build on frontier worlds...

She looked at the pipe she was wrapped around, noted that it read "Fresh Water," then glanced around, finding herself about five meters up, near the ceiling of some sort of group shower, attached to a spacious locker room. The lights were dimmed, presumably to conserve power, and her keen eyes could make out no movement below.

She stretched, revealing a pair of huge bat's wings, with three-fingered talon-hands at the wing elbows, and her coloration blended into the shadows perfectly. Staying silent, testing her muscles and joints...

'Seph watched warily as she strode the halls, keeping an eye out for passing soldiers. She hoped to keep clear of them, at least until she could get cleaned up and dressed. The skin between her shoulder blades prickled as she approached the shower, and she sniffed at the air, trying to figure out what was bothering her. Nothing came to mind, though, so she just wrote it off as uneasiness over her dreams and her new home.

The shadowy figure put her hands to the rough ceiling, then tested her grip, finding it secure. She slid free of the pipe, grabbed at the concrete surface with her feet, then began to climb along, watching for anything familiar. She did not recognize this facility, and she was certain that it wasn't a space station, or a carrier, the only ships that she knew of to use concrete for internal surfaces. The feel of the gravity told her that she was on a planet, somewhere. No ship felt this smooth.

'Seph yawned again and stretched as she walked into the locker room. She failed to notice the feminine figure that slunk along the halls behind her. 'Seph smiled as she saw that four of the lockers had shiny new nameplates installed, then turned towards the showers, humming merrily to cheer herself up.

She turned on the high-mounted shower head, singing softly, "For the king, for the land, for the m_ou_ntains/for the green valleys where d_ra_gons fly," as she grabbed for the bar of soap, starting on what she expected to be the arduous process of cleaning herself up after last night's fun. She patted at her womb, smiling. She wasn't intending to loose Branson's gift just yet.

The figure headed down the wall slowly, traversing the narrow room easily, as her tail gave her excellent balance. She tried to figure out who or what the newcomer was, and why the lights hadn't come on. She heard the deep, melodic singing and smiled. She liked hearing music. Climbing down the wall faster now, she stuck to the shadows, behind the imposing woman.

'Seph continued to wash herself, unfolding her wings to scrub at their leathery skin as she continued to sing more loudly, her voice triumphant as it echoed on the tiles, "For the gl_or_y, the ho_no_r, to win the black lord/I will search for the Emer_al_d Sw_ooo_," she trailed off, feeling that something out of place, then called out, "Who's there? Elgee, that you?"

She looked towards the door to the locker room, but saw that the door was still closed. Shrugging, she went back to the task at hand. Rubbing the washcloth against the thick lips of her womanhood, she moaned softly as she worked away the evidence of her love for Branson.

Her visitor clung to the spider webbing of pipes on the wall behind her, then hung upside-down right behind 'Seph, and looked on curiously as she hung a mere two feet behind the giantess. She could easily make out the interplay of 'Seph's dense musculature as the Gargoyle scrubbed at herself, oblivious to the watcher's presence, could just as easily hear the low cries of passion 'Seph made, and the scent of the pheromones 'Seph spilled into the air made her visitor's nose twitch.

The figure looked her over, and found that the giantess was very similar to herself in shape and form, if not in detail or size. She wondered briefly if this might not be another research station, situated on some planet or another.

'Seph put her washcloth on the bar ahead, then grabbed a bottle of shampoo, squeezing a goodly amount of the peppermint-scented gel into her hand, and began to lather her hair. She turned to place the flowing, ivory locks under the spilling water, and sighed softly, her eyes closed, as she began to sing again.

The watcher's tail wagged as she listened. She smiled, her ears twitching to catch the full tones of the pleasant music.

'Seph stretched again, rolled her shoulders under the pounding spray, and found herself enjoying the soft, insistent pressure against her remarkably sensitive hide. Reaching back for her washcloth, she opened her eyes, then stiffened, every muscle going tense as she saw the dark figure hanging upside down in front of her.

As she looked closer, though, she noted the tightly furled wings and light build, and wondered if the newcomer wasn't another Gargoyle, vaguely along Elayne's lines. Though, she'd never heard of a Gargoyle with armor plates like the other woman possessed, which was revealed by the fact that she wore as little as 'Seph currently did. Relaxing a little, she asked quietly, "C-can I help you? I don't think we've met."

The figure opened her eyes, blinked once, then replied casually, "Hello."

'Seph's breath caught for a moment as she saw the reflective black lenses of the figure's eyes, without whites, irises, or pupils, but she chided herself. If someone like Trent was a possibility for her kind, then eyes could probably be quite variable, too. They made her shiver a little, though.

She shook herself, then extended an oversized hand towards the slender figure, saying, "My name's Persephone. Call me 'Seph, if you'd like. I'm new to the Patrol, and, um, if I'm messing up your routine, I apologize. I didn't think anyone was in here."

The figure climbed down a little further, then took 'Seph's hand, shaking it gently as she replied, "I'm Sarill. Where is this place? I don't recognize the facility," as her large, bat-like ears swiveled around in apparent confusion.

As 'Seph took a closer look at Sarill, she became a little more concerned. Her hands were delicate but somewhat bony. Their claws were pronounced and very sharp, and there was little flesh to spare upon them. Something about the shape of her head seemed both familiar and disturbing at the same time.

'Seph raised an eyebrow, covering her surprise and irritation. Why should she care what someone else looked like? 'Seph replied, her voice touched by curiosity, "You don't know your own posting? This is Area 51. Or Groom Lake. It goes by a number of names.

Elayne had slinked into the room after 'Seph, trailing that lovely, azure-skinned body with lust in her eyes. Branson and Trent could handle the patrol themselves, she figured. She wanted a little fun before the night's duties. Now that the ice queen had finally started to warm up a little, she figured she might be able to get away with a flying glomp, and from there?

She hurled her clothes at one of the lockers, then snapped on the lights, tensing herself to leap at the larger woman, but she froze as she saw the third figure, clinging to the pipes. Elayne's gaze locked onto the large, hematite-like eyes of the newcomer, and she went pale as she stared into the unnatural lenses, seeing herself reflected in them.

Sarill turned towards the click of the switch and saw another of these strange Morphs there. This one was smaller, but still female, she noticed.

'Seph turned to follow Sarill's gaze, then smiled and waved, saying, "Hi, Elayne. Wh-what's wrong?"

Elayne continued to stare at the ebon figure. Her eyes roamed across the sleek, chitinous armor plates protecting most of the slender body, and she whispered, "Who... the hell... are you?"

'Seph's own gaze locked onto those same reflective patches as her expression became one of curiosity. She opened her mouth to ask about them, just as the visitor responded simply, "Sarill."

Something in Elayne's mind clicked, whether some latent fear of insects, a buried memory, or simply her fear of the unknown. She began to scream, her skin blanching as she keened in a high, banshee-like tone, her knees going weak.

'Seph noted that something about Sarill seemed eerily familiar, but she dismissed the thought as she charged across the floor to go to Elayne's side.

As her pitch-black fur fluffed out in shock, Sarill leaped powerfully into the air to cling to the wall, racing up the wall like a gecko in full retreat, then vanished in an instant, disappearing through a nearby air-conditioning vent.

Glancing back in time to see Sarill's tail pull out of view, 'Seph growled quietly, then turned to look over Elayne. She crouched to cradle the mahogany-skinned woman's head in the crook of her arm. When Elayne failed to rouse, 'Seph cocked her arm, spread her hand wide, then slapped Elayne soundly, shocking her out of her fainting spell.

A large, ruddy mark showed on her cheek as her eyes opened. Elayne coughed a little, then rasped, "Well... I wanted to get into your arms, girl, but this wasn't what I had in mind, y'know? Huhn, where'd that alien go?"

'Seph's eyes widened as recognition struck her. Those hands, the chitinous patches... even the head, sort of, if you took away the fur, elongated it back some... She realized that this 'Sarill' looked much like a Xenomorph, from the movies! Covering her shock, she replied, "Sh-she went into the vents, I think. You scared her off, Elayne."

Elayne laughed as she sat up, her face filled with disbelief, "Yeah, I scared off one of the Aliens of Area 51, sure thing!"

Noting that Elayne seemed to have steadied herself, 'Seph released her grasp on the smaller woman, then told her softly, "I'm going to let the others know. You stay here, and if she comes back... I want you to apologize."

'Seph broke into a jog, leaving Elayne to lay confused in her wake. She made her way back to Branson's quarters, then dressed quickly, cinching her sword belt low on her hips, rather than trying to tie it around her still swollen waist. Looking around, she found a hand radio, then keyed it to Brooklyn's frequency, asking, "Brooklyn, do you know anyone on the base named "Sarill"? A Gargoyle, or maybe an exotic Mutate?"

Brooklyn replied after a moment, sounding somewhat stressed, "Nada, no one by that name here. What's up?"

Growling in a low, menacing tone, 'Seph responded, "We've got an intruder on base, Brook."

Sarill reached a junction and stopped, leaning against the wall of the snug conduit as she breathed hard, sucking air in greedily. Something about that smaller Morph and her scream had just set all her sensory nerves into a tizzy.

Then she realized something: a tunnel run like this would normally have been no problem for her, but she felt a little weak after her regeneration. And very, very hungry. She began to sniff around, then her nose picked up the tantalizing scent of food. Growling softly, she started heading along the ducts towards its location, silent in the shadows.

About twenty minutes passed while the soldiers assembled and geared up for their search. Branson allowed Persephone to address the platoon, since she'd seen the intruder. She informed them, "There's an entity of unknown capabilities loose somewhere in the base. Last I saw her, she was headed into the ventilation system. Try not to hurt her, if you can. I think she's more scared than dangerous, but do not take unnecessary risks. Any questions?"

A husky voice, belonging to a heavily built grizzly-Mutate, her tauric build eye-catching amongst the two-footers, called out, "Persephone, might you describe her to us?"

'Seph briefly explained what she could recall, then heard a voice that belonged to a fennec-Mutate in her fire-team grumble, "Great. It's gonna be a bug hunt."

Leveling her eyes at him, she snarled in a commanding tone, "That will be quite enough, Mr. Pauley. Now, let's find Sarill before she gets into trouble!"

'Seph took Pauley along to keep an eye on him, as well as her scout, Thomas Leitman. They prowled the halls, carefully checking the ceilings above them, and kept in constant communication with the other teams. 'Seph briefly wished that she had her helmet, since Lex hadn't had time to make her a new one, but dismissed the thought, and forced herself to keep one eye on the ahead and above her, the other on Pauley.

She came to the mess hall, her eyes and carbine scanning the shadowed expanses of floor beneath the tables. She whispered to the others, "I'm going to check the kitchen. You two, do a table-by-table search."

A pair of, "Yes, Ma'am!"s sounded behind her as she stepped forward silently, covering the distance quickly. Leaning around the corner, she led with her weapon, and looked into the room cautiously. To her eyes, the room seemed clear, and she stepped inwards, looking around.

Behind her, a long, cruelly bladed tail snaked down and speared a shoulder of roast beef resting atop one of the ovens. As soon as the meat was fully impaled, the slender, segmented tail retreated into the vent it had emerged from.

After a few tense minutes, 'Seph completed her search, then returned to the others and began to help with the table-by-table patrol. She grumbled, "I hope we don't have to chase her into the vents. If I could just find her, I bet I could talk her down."

Tom chuckled, looking at Pauley, and replied, "We'd have to send in the hacker, I think. I can't quite see you fittin', Major."

Pauley growled at Tom, who continued to snicker. 'Seph nodded her head in agreement, then said, "Come on, it's obvious she's not in here. Let get moving."

Nestled in the vent shaft, Sarill smiled as she tore a strip of meat off the purloined shoulder, munching hungrily. It was beef, one of her favorite meats, and one that she loved after a long regeneration.

After a good deal of intense searching, 'Seph slammed a fist against the armory wall in annoyance, roaring, "It's like she just vanished! I know she wasn't a dream, Elayne saw her, too!"

She keyed her radio, contacted Broken, and asked, "Did your teams see anything?"

His voice, crackling through the connection, replied, "Not a thing. We've got your building covered. I'm pretty sure she couldn't have escaped, unless she went invisible somehow."

'Seph sighed, then responded, "Alright. Keep an eye out, please," then closed the channel, telling her team, "Come on, guys, let's do it again..."

This time, as she entered the kitchen, she noticed the empty pans, some still hot, scattered around the counters. Bringing up her carbine in a guard, she slipped into a hollow between the wall and a fridge, though she nearly became stuck on the swells of her breasts, then keyed the mike to all-bands, whispering, "Has anyone been doing any cooking in the last half hour?"

A moment of dead air passed, and she heard Brooklyn reply with a mournful chuckle, "Broadway's in Chicago, so we can't pin it on him... Looks like you may have found your intruder, 'Seph."

Murmuring in response, she ordered, "All teams, converge on the mess hall, but stay clear of the kitchen. I'll try to talk her down, if she shows herself again."

Slipping out of the hollow, a smile and blush rising on her face as her womb rubbed against the chill surface, she started looking around for vents or other means of entry.

She noted several vents mounted in the ceiling, mostly over the cooking area and benches, presumably to allow smoke and steam to escape properly. She tensed as she heard a loud, rumbling burp, her carbine swinging upwards to cover one of the hatches as it slid open. Bones tumbled down into the garbage bin.

Her left hand strayed to her hip like a gunfighter in a western, but she stepped forward instead of drawing her blade or opening fire, then called out in as friendly of a tone as she could, "Sarill? Is that you? Can you come down from there? You've got us all worried."

Another burp answered her, and a feminine voice responded from the hatch, "'Scuse me," Sarill said, trying to be polite. The shock of the scream had faded quickly, and now that she had fed, she was feeling very content.

'Seph whispered into her radio, as quietly as she possibly could, "Sarill's almost directly above me. Seal off the vents leading towards this hatch," then stepped even closer towards it, releasing her carbine to let it dangle against her bosom. "It can't be comfortable for you to be squeezed into that little shaft. Why don't you come down? There's plenty of room for you in the mess hall," she pleaded, in the same one might use to try talking a cat out of a tree.

A long, black-plated arm stretched out of the hole, revealing long finger-claws, then plates of chitin as her upper arm slid out. "Is the scary one gone?" Sarill asked, her large ears just peeking out of the hatch, as the arm retracted.

'Seph smiled, chuckling softly, "She's not so bad, once you get to know her. You gave her a good scare, too. But, yes, she's in another part of the complex right now. She's trying to help find you, in fact."

Sarill giggled in response as her head popped out of the hatch. Her gaze locked onto 'Seph's face as she said, "Sorry if I scared her, but she yelled at me. I don't like loud noises."

'Seph held out her arms below the hatch, ready to catch her if she were to fall, commenting, "I can imagine, with those ears." Her expression softened, and she added, "They make you look very cute. I can't imagine what made Elayne freak out like that."

However, Sarill seemed to crawl out onto the ceiling, crouching along as easily as if she were on the floor. She moved over a solid steel counter, then dropped lightly onto it, her tail wagging behind her. "I'm still sorry," she said as she turned to look at 'Seph, asking, "I've never seen people like you before. Who put you together?"

'Seph's brow furrowed as she thought on how to answer, then shook her head slowly as she said, "We're not Mutates, if that what you mean. We were around long before Gen-U-Tech came onto the scene. We're called Gargoyles."

Her face became proud, the fierce light in her eyes reminding Sarill so much of her partner, as 'Seph added, "We are defenders of the night. We live to protect the innocents that cannot do so for themselves."

Sarill nodded, squatting on the counter, and asked, "Oh. What are Mutates?"

'Seph hopped up onto the island in front of Sarill and frowned as she replied, "They were Human at one point, until an unscrupulous scientist, a Dr. Sevarius, hit upon a method to mix their genes with those of other creatures."

A tear rolled down her check as she added, softly, "I understand he was trying to imitate my kin."

Sarill placed her slender hand on 'Seph's shoulder, sympathizing, "I'm sorry," then explained, "Where I come from, the first Morphs were soldiers, created to combat the Enemy better."

Choking back a sob, 'Seph holding the hand on her shoulder tightly, then ask, "Have you seen combat? Have you had to fight the Space-Spawn?"

With a confused expression marring her face, Sarill blinked and replied, "I've fought, yes, but against the Yauja. I don't know these... 'Space-Spawn' you speak of."

'Seph leaned forward and placed her long arms around Sarill's shoulders, as it to reassure her, whispering, "You have my deepest sympathies, Sarill. Maybe they're the same. I don't know what the Spawn call themselves. Do they come in vast starships, seemingly wrought of shadow, wielding beams of pure Magic to wipe cities cleanly from the ground they were built on?"

Sarill shook her head and replied, "They have ships, yes, but they are Hunters, not ravaging armies. I hunt them myself," with a grin. "Humans used to call them 'Predators', before we learned their true name."

Staring into Sarill's face, 'Seph revised her opinion of the Morph's age. "I've ne... ver... wait. Do they stand, well, about as tall as I do? Faces sort of like crabs, but with dreadlocks? They turn invisible and strike without mercy?"

Sarill nodded, sounding pleased at 'Seph's recognition, and replied, "That's them. The females are even bigger than you are."

Eyeing the black, chitinous plates that adorned Sarill's body, 'Seph whispered, "You have got to be fraggin' kidding me."

Grinning at her new friend, Sarill replied, "Nope!"

'Seph shook her head, then gazed at Sarill, telling her, "Look... you're a long, long way from home. I've heard of your Yautja before, but, well... they're just characters in a series of action movies. And, um, you wouldn't happen to have 'Xenomorph' blood in you, would you?"

Nodding, Sarill gestured at her armor plating and answered, "Yes. My father was a Praetorian Huntmaster."

'Seph's mouth hung open, and she simply stared for a moment, before she could rouse herself to say, "I've seen some very strange things since I came here, but I would never have imagined... Look, please don't take this the wrong way, but, as far as I can tell, you just walked out of a movie. You shouldn't exist."

Giggling, Sarill pointed at 'Seph's wings and horns and noted, "One could say the same thing about you."

'Seph flushed, her face turning a rich, purplish tone as she replied, "Well, true. Um, d-do you have any idea how you got here? I'm... not exactly a native myself, but my case is just a little different."

The hybrid hesitated, then answered, "I'm not sure, to be honest. I was in a regenerative sleep after my last run in with the Yautja, hanging in my quarters aboard the Vigilant, and when I woke up, I was hanging in the showers where we met."

Thoughtfully, 'Seph asked, "Would you mind if I invited a friend of mine to join us? I'd like to examine your... spirit, if you will, your aura, with his help, and see if I can discover anything amiss. It's not that I wish to send you away, but this isn't your home... and frankly, I don't know if it would be any safer for you than your own."

Sarill nodded, replying, "I don't mind. I would like to get back to Tarin. If he finds that I'm gone, who knows what he might do?"

Smiling, 'Seph asked her, "Is he a friend of yours? Is he," as she gestured towards one Sarill's armor plates, "like you?"

With a chuckle, Sarill shook her head and explained, "No, Tarin Draconis is a lion-Morph. And, he's my partner," she added with a smile.

'Seph rubbed her chin with one hand, a gesture that Sarill found very familiar. Looking thoughtful, she asked, "He wouldn't happen to be a pilot, would he? A starfighter pilot?"

Sounding slightly surprised at that guess, Sarill agreed, "Yes, he is, and a very good one. He taught me everything I know about piloting."

Eyes betraying extreme puzzlement, 'Seph shook her head and replied, "That is too weird. I-I've seen the future of this world. That's why I asked about your 'Enemy'. There will be a great battle, in the orbit of our moon. One of the pilots was a Lt. Draconis. I didn't see him, but I know, somehow, that he was a lion, as you said, a winged Mutate, with golden feathers on his wings. I can't claim it as anything more than a coincidence, but it is most strange, don't you agree?"

With a shrug, Sarill suggested, "Maybe your future is the past of where I come from."

'Seph shuddered, her shoulders rippling with apparent disgust, as she said, "I pray that you're wrong. The war will not go well for our world, I'm afraid."

Shaking her head dismissively, Sarill told her, "Whatever the future, it is not the present."

Nodding somberly, 'Seph gripped Sarill's shoulder gently, in a mirror of their earlier gesture, then began to whistle in an odd, eerie melody. Her eyes closed and the skin around them tightened with her concentration.

A shimmer of rainbow-hued energy began to coalesce into being in front of the two of them, forming rapidly into the shape of a bear-Morph, garbed in archaic leathers. He bowed to the Gargoyle, asking, "You called me, mistress? What might I do for you?"

Sarill's fur stood on end, she crouched down onto her hands, then her wings opened up a little, spikes sliding free, as bladed her tail came up into a 'ready-strike' position. Before she could strike, though, 'Seph gripped Sarill's shoulder more tightly. The muscles in her arm tensed as she held the Morph in place, rumbling in a commanding tone, "Wait, Sarill! This is my friend, whom I spoke of. He's a spirit that's chosen to teach me how to use magic. He wouldn't harm anyone, least of all my friend."

Kee eyed 'Seph's belly and smiled as he noted, "You look quite... at ease, mistress," then turned to bow to Sarill, intoning, "I am called Kee-Lau-Nah. Please, trust in her words. I mean no harm to you."

Sarill's tail slowly snaked down to a neutral position as she sat back again, and her fur settled again as she said, "Sorry... but you startled me." Sniffing curiously at him, she found him scentless, then added, "Never before have I seen anyone like you."

Looking at her intently, Kee seemed to weigh her with his gaze, then shook his head as he replied, "Nor have I seen one such as yourself, Lady Sarill," then turned to 'Seph to say, "Mistress, I would suggest that you examine Sarill closely, yourself. There is something... attached is not the word, but it is the best I can find. I have never seen its like before."

'Seph closed her eyes as she concentrated again. After a moment, she opened them, revealing a faint red glow from their irises. She saw a schism in Sarill's spirit, but looked past it, trying to make out what Kee was referring to. Some manner of energy, like the aura of a spell, but different somehow, clung to her. She felt that Sarill was unharmed by it, but it didn't seem to be natural. With a somewhat distant, monotonous voice, 'Seph asked, "Have you, to your knowledge, been enchanted in some way, Sarill?"

'Seph continued her examination, shifting her head back and forth to gauge its exact size. She heard Sarill reply firmly, "No."

Nodding, 'Seph informed her, "I'll attempt to draw the energy away. I don't feel that it should be there. My guess is that it's some aftereffect of whatever brought you here. Please, do not be alarmed if you see or feel anything strange."

Kee watched the two women cautiously, ready to interpose himself between the energy pool and his mistress if he felt that anything was awry.

Reaching out slowly, 'Seph grazed the energy matrix with her claw tips. A faint film seemed to stick to her flesh for a moment before sinking into her skin. Sensing no ill effects from it, she plunged her hand into the pool, allowing it to sink into her body. It flowed warmly through her veins, joining the rest of the mana she held within her bosom, swelling it outwards gently.

She began to breath heavily, and her face flushed a deep amethyst tone, from the sensation. She didn't know if she would ever become accustomed to the intense, erotic feeling. After a few moments, she exhaled loudly as she felt that there was nothing more to take. 'Seph smiled as she patted at her breast, telling the morph, "There. I believe that I have it all, now. Do you feel any different?"

Blinking, Sarill looked up to 'Seph's face and replied, "No... nothing."

'Seph fluttered her eyelids a few times, allowing her natural vision to take over, and frowned slightly. "I'm sorry to hear that. I would guess that you've no talent for magic, as I think it should have felt like... an itch, in the back of your mind, if you could have sensed it."

Sarill shrugged as she said, "I don't think Xenos can do magick."

Chuckling, 'Seph answered, "Other than myself and one other, I know of no Gargoyles who can, either. It's an uncommon gift."

Turning to regard Kee, she nodded her head, then told him, "Thank you for watching over us, Kee. Please, if you feel a need for rest, go with my blessings. I may need your assistance again, but for now, do as you desire."

Kee bowed once more as he said, "Thank you, mistress. It was pleasant to meet you, Lady Sarill," then began to fade into the ether.

Sarill's fur stood on end for a moment as he vanished, then she explained, "I'm sorry. That reminds me too much of a Yautja cloaking field."

With a wry smile, 'Seph responded, "I can imagine. Be thankful that they cannot submerge themselves into the Astral the way Kee can. You would have a very tough time fighting them, I believe. I must confess to some curiosity... how do you fight them?"

Grinning widely, Sarill explained, "I can feel them, even when they're cloaked," then surprised 'Seph by speaking into her mind, ~Their minds are audible to mine.~

'Seph jumped a little bit, but tried to take it in stride. She moved her hand towards Sarill's neck slowly, then laid her palm flat against the Morph's vein. She concentrated and tried to reply, or at least 'display', ~Magic or no, that is an exceptional gift, Sarill.~

Projecting her voice into Seph's mind again, she answered, ~All Xenomorphs are telepathic. Or, didn't you know that? It's how they talk to one another.~ Reverting to speech, she added, "One of my other jobs was to be Translator."

Smiling softly, 'Seph nodded as she released her touch. "I can imagine. And, I had guessed that, or maybe pheromones, but it's still surprising. There's more to you than meets the eye, isn't there?"

Shrugging dismissively, Sarill responded, "I am half-Xenomorph. My mother was a bat-Morph. She was the only parent I had..."

Shaking her head slowly as she considered the strange visitor, 'Seph sighed softly. "You said earlier that you were 'created'? That must have been quite the task, to merge those two disparate physiologies. I can only hope that it was necessary. I can scarcely imagine..."

She looked up to Sarill's eye-lenses, adding, "My kin are born to strife, much as you seem to be, but it saddens me to know that someone felt the need to... create a person to fill that role."

Sarill smiled, trying to put 'Seph at ease, and explained, "I wasn't... designed, the way you put it. My mother's physiology and genetics were... unstable enough to allow the Xenomorphic genetic code to bind with it, with a little help, but there was no need to interfere." With pride, she added, "I am a naturally-conceived and born offspring."

Nodding, 'Seph allowed herself to relax. "That's good to hear, then. I was afraid that your birth had been... more unpleasant," then chuckled softly, muttering something about 'movies'.

After a moment's hesitation, she asked in soft voice, nearly a whisper, "If you do not mind my curiosity... did your parents love one another?"

Sarill's face fell, but she told 'Seph, "No. I only ever saw my father once. My mother was scared of him, very much so. She was a little scared of me as well, until I was mature enough to help her understand that I was no threat to her, and that," her voice became softer, warmth soaking into it, "I loved her very much." She looked away from 'Seph, adding, "I do not think Xenomorphs can understand Love."

'Seph sighed as she laid a hand softly on Sarill's bare, armor-plated back. "I'm glad, then, that you seem to take after your mother more in, um, temperament. I'm afraid I'd been concerned that you were more like your father's side when you escaped into the vents."

Trying to shift away from the obviously touchy subject, she asked, "Would you like to meet the rest of my Clan? I want them to know that you are no threat to us, and for you to know that we meant you no harm."

With a gentle smile, Sarill answered, "I would like that."

'Seph rose to her feet and started for the door, then paused, looking back to tell Sarill, "It might be best if you were to stay behind me, until I introduce you. I don't want there to be any... misunderstandings."

Nodding as she hopped to the floor, Sarill replied, "Very well," then she furled her wings behind her.

'Seph gave her a moment, then strode forward, calling out, "McCoy, Tom! I found our visitor. Go ahead and stand down. It turns out she was just as startled by Elayne as Elayne was by her."

She entered the mess, and her eyes widened as she took in the assembled soldiers, their rifles aimed towards the kitchen. 'Seph spread her arms and wings out protectively and bellowed, "STAND DOWN! Sarill is under my protection!"

Slipping lightly onto 'Seph's back, Sarill settled behind her wings to keep from offering a clear shot at any part of her body.

----Chapter II----

'Seph waited for the soldiers to lower their weapons before whispering, "Sarill, why don't you reveal yourself now?"

Sarill's head popped out over 'Seph's left shoulder. The bat-Morph clung to her back between the immense woman's wings. In a friendly voice, she called out, "Hello."

Smiling pleasantly to cover her surprise at just how light Sarill was, 'Seph shifted her body slightly to keep as much of her muscular bulk in the theoretical lines of fire. Her instincts called out to her to protect the girl, even as she recalled Sarill's explanation that she was a soldier herself.

Elayne stepped forward, her eyes tilted towards the floor, as she said slowly, "Hoi, Sarill. I'm... I'm really sorry about earlier, girl, I didn't mean to scare ya, it's just, well, you weren't what -" then quickly adjusted her statement as 'Seph narrowed her eyes, "- err, who I expected to see tonight."

"That's okay. I know I'm scary to some eyes. But your yell!" Sarill grinned as she cringed, as if from some huge, god-awful noise. Several of the soldiers laughed loudly in response, causing her to wince in truth, folding her ears a little.

Elayne smiled back, leaning forward, with her hands clasped behind her back, and rubbed at the floor with her talon in embarrassment. "I bet with those radar dishes you've got, I did sound awful loud. Guess you know why I don't sing, huh?"

Sarill poked her head back out from behind 'Seph's and grinned, replying, "You think you're bad! I can screech into the ultrasonics. When I sing opera, windows shatter."

Elayne chuckled, then stepped back to allow the others to approach. Branson was the next to step up. He stand close to 'Seph, then extended his hand upwards towards Sarill. He told her, "I'm sorry that we didn't get to welcome you more properly, but... Welcome to Area 51, Sarill. I'm Branson, leader of this," then grinned, "motley crew."

Sarill climbed onto 'Seph's shoulder for a moment, looking like the weirdest pirate's parrot substitute there had ever been, then gently alighted to the floor and took Branson's hand. "Thank you for the warm welcome."

He shook her hand, then reached up to grip her shoulder with his left hand, unfurling a wing behind her back protectively. Nodding, he told her, "I'll have to ask that you let us know if you intend to leave the base, but otherwise, if," then moved his gaze to meet 'Seph's, and his expression softened, "my Angel of the Night trusts you, then I trust you, too. You're free to explore anywhere you wish."

'Seph beamed at the endearment, placing her great, azure-hued wing around Sarill's other side, and touched Branson's back with its leading edge.

Sarill blushed a little at the embrace occurring around her, but nodded to show her understanding.

Branson released Sarill, then stepped aside as 'Seph broke the winged embrace. Trent came up next, bowing in a courtly manner to Sarill as he came within arm's reach. When he rose, he placed his arm around Elayne's neck and smiled as he said, "Hullo, Sarill. Name's Trent, good to meet yeh. Don't mind Elayne, here," then twisted his muzzle into a wry grin, "she had her mind on other things tonight, didn't yeh, luv?"

Elayne merely blushed slightly in response, her eyes locked on 'Seph's breasts as she nodded her head.

"Good to meet you too, Trent," Sarill replied, "And, it's good to see people who have wings!" she grinned, opening her own impressive pair up widely.

Trent laughed as he watched Sarill unfurl her wings, his eyes taking on a bit of a twinkle, then he commented, "And a fantastic pair they are, too. Yeh can prob'bly fly under your own power, yeah? Bet that must be nice. Love the spikes, I'm sure those've come in handy."

Sarill nodded and replied, "Yes, I can fly under my own power," as she extended her wing-blades out to their full length. They looked like swords made of bone, and she commented casually, "Good for Hunting, too."

Trent whistled as he watched the blades extend, and seemed quite impressed by them, but before he could say anything in response, a high, feminine voice called out from the hallway, "Colonel! Majors! I think there's something you need to see!"

Branson nodded, shouting back, "We'll be right there, Ashe!" before turning his head to look at Sarill. He asked, "Sarill, would you be willing to come with us?"

Sarill retracted her blades, curling her wings behind her back again as she replied, "Of course."

The five winged beings followed Ashe closely as she took them to a large munitions storeroom. Ashe stopped before entering and told them, "I'd be careful if I were you, sirs. You'll see what has me worried as soon as you enter," as she nibbled at her lip with concern. As she opened the door, she stopped short and asked, "What the... when I left, there was only one crate!"

It was obvious what she referred to, two large, metallic crates. One laid on the floor, the other leaned haphazardly against it, and both seemed to bear English writing on their sides. One was cylindrical, with rounded ends, while the other looked like a futuristic footlocker. Sarill moved over to inspect them, grinning as she asked, "How did they get here?"

As the others looked on in confusion, Trent stepped up towards them, carefully, then laid his lupine ears against their sides. He announced after a moment, "Don't hear anything ticking. Sarill, these your kit? What've yeh got inside?"

Sarill pressed a wing-finger onto the footlocker's lock plate, and it opened smoothly, revealing a vacc-suit. "My belongings, for starters," she said.

Elayne moved in behind the two of them, looking eagerly at the revealed gear. Her voice breathy with excitement, she inquired, "Is that some kinda space suit? It looks so light! You never said you were an astronaut, girl."

'Seph hung her head as she caught a glimpse of the suit, knowing what use it had probably seen.

"I was the weapons officer aboard a Valiant-class fighter," she told Elayne, "I also went outside my home station on occasions."

Elayne beamed at Sarill, stage-whispering conspiratorially, "You wouldn't happen to have some plans tucked away in there, wouldya? I'd love to see the specs on that ship, if it's as slick as that suit is."

Sarill took the suit out and laid it to one side, then took out a flat, plastic case that looked like it could house a sizeable piece of equipment. Trent and Elayne settled back into comfortable crouches as they watched Sarill unpack. Elayne's eyes, in particular, were lit up like those of a child at Christmas, eagerly watching for any revealed bits of tech, her mind whirling with theories.

'Seph smiled as she watched the trio, chuckling softly, then pulled Branson aside to whisper her report and her impressions of the bat-Morph to him.

Elayne gasped as Sarill opened up the case, revealing a sleek firearm, its form quite familiar to her. She asked, "Is that an M41 Pulse Rifle? Does it really work?" then grinned at Sarill, concluding enthusiastically, "Could I hold it for a little while?"

Hesitating for a moment, Sarill watched Elayne's enthusiastic expression, then decided to allow the request, and held out the weapon carefully, saying, "Yup. It works great."

Elayne gripped the rifle carefully, despite her anticipation, and raised it to her shoulder smoothly, feeling its excellent balance. The trigger assembly was a little small for her hands, but its length seemed excellent for her. "Wicked, Sarill! I bet you're really good with this thing, huh?" she snickered, then lowered it from her shoulder to examine it closely, commenting, "I bet I could jazz it up a little for you, though..."

With growing unease, Sarill echoed, " 'Jazz it up a little?' "

Elayne nodded, too intent on her examination to notice Sarill's tone, and explained, "I'd need to break it down, of course, see how it all fit together, but I'm really good with guns, y'know? I bet I could find somethin' to tweak in there."

Shaking her head, Sarill snatched the weapon back and turned it around, flicking a switch on its side. A little red triangle appeared on Elayne's forehead as she grinned, "I don't think so."

Trent growled in a low tone, his hand straying towards his hip, though there was nothing there to grab at, but Elayne merely raised her hands, saying, "Okay, okay, sheesh! Just thought I'd offer. But, y'know, you change your mind, my offer still stands."

Sarill giggled, "Do not worry, it's unloaded," as she switched off the laser targeting system. Extending the weapon to Trent, she asked, "Here, maybe you'd like to take a look?"

Trent seemed as uneasy as Sarill had felt a moment ago. His hand reached out for it before clenching into a fist and drawing back. After a moment, he shook his head and said, "No... I'm grateful for yeh offering it to me, but I decided long ago never to take up another gun. That one's tempting, though, I don't mind telling yeh."

Sarill packed it away, replying, "Very well." The chest seemed to have a lot more gear in it, but Trent was curious about the cylindrical case. It had felt cold to the touch when he had listened at it.

'Seph's form loomed over the trio suddenly, though she said nothing, gesturing for them to continue. She looked over the weapon with interest before it was packed away. Trent tapped at the side of the cylinder and asked, "So, what've yeh got in here? Some fancy bit of future-tech that's gotta stay cold to run, yeah?"

Shaking her head, Sarill replied, "It's... well, my special larder, if you really want to know."

Grinning widely, Elayne asked, "Space goodies, huh? Any chance we might be able to get a taste somewhere along the line?"

Frowning, Sarill told her, "I'm... not sure you'd like it."

Elayne shrugged, saying, "Well, that's alright. I don't wanna push, but... any chance I get a peek? You're a fruit bat, right? What kind of goodies do they have out on Altair, or wherever you're from?"

"I'm... well, I'm not a fruit bat, Elayne," Sarill told her, "I'm a carnivore, like most Xenomorphs."

Elayne's face fell and she said softly, "Oh, sorry about that. I didn't mean to offend you or anything. Uh, if you want, I'll quit bugging you. It's just, this is all very exciting to me, y'know?"

Sarill nodded, trying to reassure the curious Gargoyle, and replied, "I understand. It's... just that some people get really creeped out when they find out what's in there."

Chuckling, Trent placed his arm around Elayne's neck again and commented, "She's tough, I bet she'll be able to take it, won't yeh, luv?"

Elayne nodded, smiling brilliantly as she leaned into his embrace, and replied, "Yeah... I promise I'll be a little more calm than when we first met."

Branson waved in reply as he leaned on the doorframe, watching from a distance. 'Seph answered softly, "We won't judge you, Sarill. Too many people judge us by the way we look. We've learned to be quite tolerant. Go ahead, if you're comfortable."

Nodding, Sarill opened a hatch in the cylinder's steel-like side and took out a flexible packet full of glowing-green, viscous liquid. "I was trained, well, even created, if you like, with one purpose: To hunt Yauja, what you probably know as 'Predators'," she explained, "Where I come from, they have proven to be a much bigger threat to Humanity and the Morphs than anyone thought, so we formed an alliance with the Xenomorphs to strike back at them."

Realization dawned in their eyes. Elayne glanced over to Trent, who answered with a soft, "Huhn." 'Seph, on the other hand, knelt behind Sarill, placing her hands on the bat-morph's shoulders. She squeezed softly as she said, "I hadn't realized what you meant by hunt, Sarill," as a warm tear rolled down her cheek into Sarill's ebon hair.

Sarill nodded, explaining, "They were a threat to everyone. I was one of a number of experimental genotypes to be created, and apparently, I was one of the most successful."

She smiled as she put the packet away, asking, "Besides, the taking of others from their worlds, only to be released into an alien environment, just to be hunted down to the death... this is not cruel?"

The skin over Elayne's thick knuckles went pale as she clenched her hands into fists, digging her chisel-like claws into her palms. "Well, I dunno if these 'Predators' exist here, but if they drop by, there's not a chance we'd let them take anyone we protect, right, 'Seph? Trent?"

Trent gripped her shoulder tightly, moved his other hand to Sarill's, and replied firmly, "That's right. You're not the only one who finds that practice cruel and... it needs to end."

Sarill smiled, revealing her sharp teeth, and explained, "That's why I and others like me were created, to 'take the Hunt' to the Yauja."

'Seph whispered softly, though they could all hear her deep rumble, "I think you couldn't have come to a better place. You'll find plenty of allies here. Your foes would find this Earth hard to crack, I think. I wouldn't wish them on," then snarled, "the Quarrymen, and if I had to... I would fight alongside them to drive off the invaders."

It seemed to Sarill that 'Seph was speaking of something close to her heart, which the huntress found odd, considering that she'd earlier dismissed the Yautja as movie monsters. Sarill agreed with a nod, "Allies are always a good thing."

'Seph smiled, moving her hand to the handle of the case of blood. Her eyes strayed towards the doorframe, where Branson watched, as she replied warmly, "That's what I'm starting to find out. Why don't you let me take your gear, and see if I can find a place for you to stay while you're here? Are there any special arrangements you need?"

"Not really, although a bar hanging horizontally from the ceiling is something I'd prefer," Sarill replied.

'Seph rose, easily hefting a case in each hand, then pondered aloud, "Well, all I can think of is the gym, really, but I can see if we could put something together for you, anyway. I can't think of anywhere that we currently have that would give you privacy while still letting you," she smiled, "hang out."

Trent and Elayne said their farewells, claiming that they needed to go out on patrol, then left with Branson, who also offered up his condolences that he couldn't stay any longer.

'Seph asked Sarill to come with her, saying, "There's an empty room just down the hall from my quarters, if you'd like to take a look. It's not much, but it's what we have, I'm afraid."

Sarill nodded as she followed, answering, "It's fine. If you know where I can get some pipe and welding gear, it'll be even better."

Smiling softly, 'Seph replied, "I'll ask Dawson to come by. She knows what she's doing. I'm sure she'll get it just right for you, if you tell her what you need done."

Sarill thanked 'Seph as they approached a small room, the middle of a block of seven. All it contained was a military-issue bed and a footlocker, but it was larger than Sarill's quarters aboard the Valiant, or so she claimed. 'Seph frowned as she peered in, shaking her head slowly as she lamented, "I wish we had more to offer you..."

'Seph followed the bat-Morph in, then set down the two cases atop the chest. With a conspiratorial smile, she confessed, "My room's not much better. I guess the Army doesn't carry much gear in my size! They, um, billeted me? Is that the term? Anyway, they put me in a repair shop, with a mattress laid out on the center island. Though, that's not too much of a concern to me..."

Nodding as she memorized the small bedroom's floorplan, Sarill replied, "A craft like the Valiant doesn't have very big quarters."

'Seph looked into Sarill's face, her eyes wide with concern, and asked, "You didn't have to sleep in the cockpit, did you?"

Giggling as she sat on the bed, Sarill said, "No, but not far from it! And then, there were the 'coffins', the cryo-sleep chambers at the back of the habitable section.

'Seph knelt in front of the bed, not wanting to place her weight on it for fear of breaking it, and looked up as she said, "You really did have it all, eh?" Her voice softened as she whispered, "I'd love to fly between the stars, even if it did have to be in cryo... Did you have FTL yet?"

"Yes, but it has a 'funny' effect on organics, especially sentient ones, which is why cryo is used. You simply sleep through the trip and you don't suffer," Sarill explained.

'Seph smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief, then replied, "I think I know just what you're talking about. Come by the roof during the day, and you'll see what I mean."

Curious as to what she meant, Sarill replied, "Okies."

'Seph rose, placed a hand on Sarill's shoulder, and said, "Well, I suppose I should take you to see Brooklyn sometime soon. He's in charge of the base. Is there anything you want to do first?"

Sarill looked around, then opened her footlocker. Rummaging through it for a moment, she took out a small, book-like object. "What's the time?" she asked, opening it up to reveal a strange-looking screen.

'Seph closed her eyes for a moment, then spoke in a flat tone, "2247 hours. I can't give it to you by the second, I'm afraid," opening her eyes to peer at the notebook.

Nodding, Sarill logged it in with a beep. She set it on the floor, facing the wall, and after a moment, something started appearing on, then over, its surface. The sounds of crickets and other animals seemed to fill the air as a vision of a nighttime jungle seemed to appear on the wall, covering it completely.

Watching intently, 'Seph's eyes went wide as she gazed at the projection. With an awe-struck tone, she asked, "Is that where you grew up? It's lovely."

Sarill shook her head and explained, "I 'grew up' on a space station. This is taken from the planet my mother's now... living on."

'Seph sighed as her face took on a downcast expression, but she simply said, "Well, I'm glad that you have something pleasant to liven up the room, anyway," then smiled faintly, adding, "Just don't let Elayne or Lexington see that projector. You'd never get it back."

Grinning, Sarill replied, "I have several," as she took out another and handed it to 'Seph.

'Seph took it carefully and laid it in the palm of her hand, examining it closely as she asked, "What does it run on? Do you think there'd be any way to recharge it here? But, I forget my manners... Thank you! This is a wonderful gift, and one that I will treasure."

"You're welcome," Sarill replied cheerfully, "It runs on 4-volt alternating current or 9-volt batteries."

'Seph raised an eyebrow, the color of fresh snow. "Here I was, expecting sarium krellide. That's... really handy. Thank you again," she answered as she tucked the unit down into her plush cleavage for safekeeping.

With a shrug, Sarill elaborated, "Some things have not changed, simply because there was no need to change them."

Nodding, 'Seph commented, "Well, that does make sense. It must be really efficient in terms of power use, I'd think," as she contemplated what she could give in return.

Sarill chuckled, smiling mysteriously. "Somewhat," she agreed as she unpacked a few other things, including what looked like a backless swimsuit that she began to don.

'Seph started to turn away in deference to Sarill, but realized that after she had run around for six hours or so without anything beyond her fur and xenochitin to cover her, nudity probably didn't bother her anymore than it would the average Gargoyle. However, she did comment quietly, "That looks very nice on you, Sarill."

"Thank you," Sarill replied, "I find that Humans find nudity to be... unnerving, especially the sight of how I am built," as she wagged her tail-blade a little.

'Seph said absently, "Well, I'm trying to get over it," then cleared her throat, speaking in an encouraging tone, "You should be proud of who you are, from all that I've heard you say and seen you do."

Sarill agreed, "I am..." but added, "but it is also important to fit in. I try my best, even if it's just a little concession like this," with a soft smile.

Unfurling her wings, 'Seph caped them around her chest, and asked quietly, "Does it help? Are you accepted in your world? Can you walk freely amongst your Humans without fear of being attacked by them?"

Nodding, Sarill said, "Yes. Humans are... respectful of Xenomorphs, but not too scared of them. They like me more because I'm not as big as my full-blooded relatives."

'Seph smiled, though she still seemed distracted or disturbed by something, and replied, "I'm pleased to hear that. And, if the Xenomorphs your people know are anything like the ones I've seen in the movies, I can see where you might be a little more... approachable, yes."

Sarill grinned, showing her teeth a little, and explained, "Xenomorphs do not have eyes or a nose, so Humans tend to concentrate on the one feature they find familiar... the mouth. And, that sight terrifies them. I have a proper face, even it is unique, which means that Humans find me less threatening... even cute, sometimes."

'Seph laughed cheerfully, as that comment seemed to pull her from the dark mood she had lapsed into. Her lips curved into a smile as she replied, "Always best to be underestimated, I believe, though it's, um, rather rare that anyone underestimates me... I am very glad that you are not shunned for your difference. Humanity must have come a long way in your world.

Sarill chuckled as well, telling her, "Well, Morphs took the edge off Humanity's xenophobia. I'm considered a unique bat-Morph, not a Xenomorph."

'Seph's smile and posture took on a mysterious, almost secretive, air as she replied, "When our Humans learn to accept the Mutates and the Were-folk, they will learn much of the same tolerance. Um, that's what I hope, anyway."

Nodding, Sarill grinned mischievously, noting, "I'd have fun on All Hallows."

'Seph's eyebrow quirked up again, but she said, "I'm sure that you would," as her smile widened, adding, "Costumes are getting more and more realistic all the time, after all."

Sarill continued to grin as she giggled, reminiscing, "I once went around on a chain and collar with one of Tarin's friend's cubs as her 'demon pet'," then sat up like a begging dog, her long, bladed tongue hanging out as she panted.

Struggling to contain her laughter, her chest jiggling in a rather eye-catching motion, 'Seph held one hand to her mouth, pointing the other towards Sarill. She gasped out, "You must have... enjoyed that... far too much!"

Sarill giggled loudly as she stood up, stating loudly, "It was fun!"

Still chuckling with amusement, 'Seph knelt down next to Sarill, bringing her head near to the smaller woman's ear, and whispered conspiratorially, "Would you like to help me play a little prank on Brooklyn, when we go to meet him?"

Cocking a large ear, Sarill nodded, saying, "Yeah! Sure!"

'Seph grinned, then began to explain her idea, pulling out the projector as she asked if there was any way that she could pull it off.

A few minutes later, the two of them showed up in front of Brooklyn's office, where he was writing a report on the 'exercise' earlier in the night, looking distinctly bored.

'Seph knocked at the doorframe, looking solemn. He looked up, saw 'Seph and Sarill standing there, and said, "C'mon in. Anything to give my eyes a little break, oof. Make yourselves comfortable."

'Seph entered, taking an exceptionally large chair from the corner, but Sarill stood by the door, her hands clasped behind her back. Brooklyn cocked his head at 'Seph and whispered, "What's her problem?"

'Seph chuckled softly and said, "She's just shy, don't worry."

Brooklyn leaned back in his chair, saying, "Ahh, oka -" just as he felt a tap on the top of his head...

Sarill hung over Brooklyn's head, grinning down at him. All of her teeth were bared and easily visible, and she stood on the ceiling as if it were the floor.

Brooklyn glanced up, then looked up again, his eyes going quite wide. However, apparently, the rumors had traveled ahead of her, and he kept his shock to himself, merely emitting a small squeak. He glanced back at the doorway, seeing 'Sarill' standing there, waving at him. His eyes locked onto her teeth, his ruddy skin paling slightly.

"HIYA!!!" Sarill said very loudly.

Brooklyn slumped into the chair, then began to laugh, his shoulders quaking as he allowed himself to relax. He raised his hands in the air helplessly, whispering, "Jalapeña! Okay, you two got me," as he noted 'Seph's distinctly smug expression, "I'm not even gonna ask how you're doing that, or what the other girl is. You don't ask a magician how she does her tricks."

Sarill grinned, then crawled down the wall to stand near her doppelganger.

Brooklyn's eyes widened as he realized that he couldn't tell the difference between the two of them, and asked, "Wait a sec, there aren't two of you running around, are there?"

Sarill shook her head, then waved a wing through the other one. "It's a hologram," she told Brooklyn, then picked up the projector, dismissing the hologram.

Brooklyn held out his hand, asking, "Could I take a look at that? I wonder how it compares to the ones I used to play with. Oh, and 'Seph," he waggled his finger at her, "if this was your idea... I'm not sure whether to reprimand you or pin a medal on you."

'Seph merely chuckled, leaning back into her chair as he looked over the device, flipping through its wall projections after a few moments study. "Hudson'd have loved one of these," he noted with a hitch in his voice, then handed it back to Sarill, commenting, "Thanks. The ones we had were wall-mounted, but they had more storage. Great resolution on yours, though."

"I don't know if you can reproduce the technology." Sarill said as she took the unit back. Slipping it into a belt-pouch, she mused, "Then again, if you had them already, then perhaps you could."

Brooklyn smiled, but his eyes were flat as he responded, "I know we can't. Not yet, anyway. Well, have a seat. No sense standing around."

"Thank you," Sarill grinned as she moved to a chair and sat down.

Brooklyn slouched into his chair, speaking slowly, "It's... a very long story. Let's just say that I had them before, but I wasn't here at the... time, and leave it at that, okay?"

Brooklyn leaned back, his eyes closed, his fingers laced behind his head, as he collected his thoughts. "So, Sarill... I know this isn't where you're supposed to be. What can we do for you? I'm sure you're eager to get home, to your family?"

Sarill shrugged as she replied, "I have a feeling I'm here for a reason."

His eyes slid open as he regarded the bat-Morph, then asked, "You didn't happen to run across a strange artifact, didja? A little shield, 'bout yo big, with a winged critter in gold on the front?"

Sarill frowned, trying to remember, but answered. "Not that I recall..."

He sighed with apparent relief, nodding as he closed his eyes again. "Great, I wouldn't wish that torture on my worst enemy, much less a new friend. Well, long as you're here, feel free to roost with us. I'll put you on the roster as a 'civilian consultant' to 3rd Platoon," he said, gesturing to 'Seph, "and you'll get standard pay and bennies for as long as you're here."

Sarill grinned widely as she replied, "Thank you, Brooklyn."

He smiled and winked at Sarill, telling her, "Null sheen. I trust Branson's judgment, he trusts 'Seph's, and she trusts you. Good enough for my tastes. 'Sides, I've got a good feeling about you."

In a low voice, 'Seph noted, "I did have one of my Dreams before Sarill arrived, Brook, and it was rather agitated and troubling," then turned to smile softly at the Morph, adding, "But, I think that was merely the fabric of our world protesting, not anything I predicted for Sarill herself."

Brooklyn pondered that, then replied, "Makes as much sense as anything."

Sarill rose and saluted him, declaring, "I'll be waiting for orders, then."

Brooklyn chuckled, then asked, "Eager, aren't you? That's good. What kind of skills do you have? Beyond appearing in random showers, that is."

"I'm a hunter, trained in weapons usage. I can drive and fly many vehicles, and I am an extremely good scout," Sarill explained.

Brooklyn's face lit up, and he asked, "Are you checked out on large helicopters? We're down a Black Hawk pilot. You'd be working with Trent, Elayne, and their teams."

Sarill nodded, informing him, "I can fly rotary-winged vehicles."

Brooklyn grinned, commenting, "Sweet. That saves me a stack of paperwork. Looks like I owe you."

He turned his head to 'Seph, telling her, "Since you're here, I might as well give you the heads-up on your assignments. I'll do it formally later, but eh."

Rotating his monitor to the two women, he revealed a map of North America, with several pulsing dots. He gestured to one in New York, explaining, "This one regards a crazed sorcerer that's been doing some property damage in N.Y.C," frowning as he spoke, "We need him taken in. 'Seph, you can probably counter him, and he shouldn't be too hard for a whole platoon to take down. Should be a milk run."

Giving them a moment to ask for clarification, he shrugged, then gestured to one in Texas, "The other regards an armed compound, just outside of Houston. DHS has been getting some weird SigInts there, and we need it checked out."

He pulled the monitor back, then said, "Talk it over with the others, 'Seph, see which one sounds better. You're getting a choice, more than you would in the regular army."

'Seph smiled at his comment, then answered pleasantly, "Certainly, Brooklyn. Branson or I will let you know as soon as we decide."

Brooklyn rose, then moved around the desk to clasp Sarill's forearm and clapped her on the back with his other hand, suggesting, "Why don't you get some sleep, Sarill? Meet with Velasquez in the morning and have her show you the simulator, maybe? Black Hawks are tricky birds, so you might wanna brush up on them."

Sarill agreed, "As you say, Brooklyn," as she walked out. 'Seph rose with a nod to Brooklyn, then followed the bat-Morph.

Before she got out of ear-shot, he called after them, "Good luck, Sarill. It's good to have you on the team! Take good care of her, eh, 'Seph?"

'Seph smiled at Sarill, replying in a low, warm rumble, "I intend to do precisely that, Brooklyn."

As they walked along, Sarill suggested, "I may be more valuable for the Houston mission. I have gotten into heavily-armed compounds before."

'Seph looked down toward Sarill, as though appraising her, and replied, "I can imagine. I'm thinking we should go after that Sorcerer, though. That compound can't have been built overnight. I'm sure we've a few more days before have to act, at least."

Sarill returned 'Seph's gaze, muttering, "If you think so," then added, "But, I could go alone, if it's just to scout it out."

'Seph mused aloud, her eyes locked on Sarill's trim, toned body, "Tell me, Sarill. Do you usually wear body armor, or anything like that, when you're out... Hunting?"

"Sometimes," Sarill replied. "Normally I don't, though I do have a special suit designed for me: Very minimalist and light-weight, but very strong. It's made with Yautja materials."

'Seph nodded, asking quietly, "Could you show it to me?"

'Seph returned with Sarill to her new quarters, calling Dawson to join them. The engineer told them that it would take her a few minutes to get the supplies Sarill had asked for.

While Sarill extracted her suit, 'Seph got a pad and pencil, and watched closely, sketching out what she saw. "Can I ask you to put it on? I'd like to see how it fits you."

Sarill nodded, then began to don the sleek, streamlined suit. Her wings were covered by a tight ballistic mesh, and the armor plates left her natural weapons bare, and even augmented some of them.

The armor plating was a bluish-black, conforming to her natural carapace over her chest, enhancing it along her limbs, and fitted her like a second skin. A high-tech control unit rested on her left arm, and a retractable blade-unit guarded her right wrist.

'Seph continued sketching, moving to try capturing the design from all sides, making soft murmurs as she worked, as though she were debating something with herself.

Sliding a helmet over her head, Sarill held still to allow 'Seph to complete her examination. The ballistic mesh covered her ears as they stood proud. There was a one-piece transparency that bridged her nose and protected her eyes, concealing her gaze from outside observation. The eyepiece had a matte finish, keeping it from shining and giving away her position, as did some of the larger armor plates.

'Seph tucked the pad into her belt after she finished her sketches, a thoughtful expression on her face. She looked over the Morph once more, commenting with a sad frown, "I wouldn't say that you look very "cute" now. It seems like a very well designed suit, though. Are the armor plates that 'Yautja metal' you mentioned? I don't recognize the material."

Sarill smiled, nodding in agreement as she explained, "Yes. It's similar to their armor, but more complete and a little lighter, due to the inclusion of titanium in the mix."

'Seph rubbed at her chin again, commenting, "That sounds a little like one of my... experiments. Well, thank you for allowed me to see it. I appreciate the trust that you've placed in me."

Sarill flexed her wings, showing off the way her gear conformed to her motions. "It's all right. If it can help you, then it's not a problem."

'Seph patted at the pad, asking, "Do you mind if I give these to Elayne after I'm done with them? I'm not sure if that violates copyright... or temporal law."

With a shrug, Sarill chuckled softly as she answered, "I don't think copyright comes into it. I designed it myself, so I have no problem with you using it."

'Seph's face perked up, and she replied, "Oh! I didn't realize that. You're quite the artist, then. It's an elegant design, and it seems that you can move quite easily in it."

Hearing footsteps, she turned to look back through the doorframe, then waved, calling out, "In here, Dawson!"

A tall, heavy-set woman strode in, carrying a long pipe under one arm, a welding torch under the other, with the straps of a mask curled around one hand. She grinned, then said, "Howdy, folks. Took me a lil' while to track down that pipe... Nice threads, Sar! You look like a lean, mean, fightin' machine."

"Thank you, Dawson." Sarill replied, her slightly filtered voice emerging from the helmet's speaker.

'Seph edged towards the door, noting, "This room is far too small for three people, particularly when I'm one of them. Until I see you next, Sarill?"

"Of course, 'Seph. Stay well." Sarill replied as she unsealed the helmet, tugging it off easily.

'Seph nodded, then strode away, her back straight, her steps purposeful, as though she were driven to, or perhaps by, something of importance.

Dawson laid the pipe on the bed, then began to size up the quarters, muttering to herself. "'Kay, I think I'll need to hack a segment offa that pipe, but it'll fit. Which way do ya want it, Sar?"

Sarill moved near one of the walls, then leapt into the air, scratching the paint with an extended blade. "Across from here," she explained.

Dawson drew a small mark on the pipe, then told Sarill, "Ya'll wanna look away, unless yer," as she gestured towards the removed helmet, "space suit can filter out a torch's light. Don't want ya to hurt those pretty eyes ya got."

Dawson slipped the heavy mask on, then asked Sarill to hold up the pipe. When it was in place, she warned, "'Kay, here we go!" then started melting the metal into place, shortening it to the needed length.

After she affixed both ends into place, she lifted the mask to eye the welds casually, then tugged on the pipe, her bicep bulging. When it failed to budge, she turned to Sarill and said, "Well, looks like you're good to go! Can't say I'd wanna sleep on it, but if it's whatcha want, it's good enough to me."

Sarill grinned. "It's good enough. My talons can't really tell the difference between a pipe and a branch, anyway," she said as she took off her helmet.

Dawson smiled as she pulled off the mask, shaking her ash-blond hair back into place. "Ya need anythin' else, ya just holler, hun. No sense havin' to make do if ya can get someone to help ya out, right?"

"I shall remember," Sarill grinned, "Thank you very much."

Dawson nodded as she wrapped the strap of the mask around her hand, then told her, "Not a problem, hun. Hey, you figure out which fireteam ya're gonna be with?"

"Apparently, Brooklyn's placed me with Persephone," Sarill said, "But, I may work at missions that suit my specialist abilities."

Dawson replied with a chuckle, "Yeah, the big girl seems to have taken a likin' to ya, huh? Too bad, though. If ya were in Elayne's team, ya'd be in my squad."

"I might be working with them from time to time." Sarill told her.

Dawson laid a hand on Sarill's arm, smiling brilliantly, "That'd rock! Well, ya take care of yerself. Don't wanna see ya get shot up, y'know?"

Sarill grinned, looking up into Dawnson's face as she replied. "I've survived well so far. I intend to keep doing so."

Dawson chuckled as she left, throwing up her free hand in a friendly wave, then left Sarill alone in her quarters.

Sarill took one of the blood pouches from her stock, drinking deeply, ate some jerked meats from her supply of rations, then swung herself up into place after entering an entry into her video journal. She slipped her helmet back on, and, pressing a few controls on the arm-unit, shimmered and vanished from view...

----Chapter III----

Air Force Test Center, Detachment 3

December 4th

8:36 A.M.

The door slid open and a dark-skinned face poked in, looking around carefully. After a moment, he asked, his voice carrying a pleasant Caribbean accent, "'Ey, Sarill? You be hangin' 'round 'ere, girl?"

He found that he couldn't see anyone inside, but the room was very dark. Shrugging, he stepped into the room and walked towards the bed. He reached his hand out to shake the sleeper, then realized as he approached that there was no one within. It didn't even look like it'd been used. He muttered irritably, "Yah, good joke, mon. Bet de're laughin' de're fool heads off jest now."

He heard a low, menacing hiss, spun on his heels, turned towards his left, and asked, "W-who's dere? Dat you, Sarill? W'at de 'ell be goin' on 'ere..."

There was a flash of light, shaped like Sarill's visor, then decloaked as she stretched. "And you are?" she asked, her voice sounding slightly distorted by the speaker system.

He held up his hands, his voice taking on a placating tone as he looked into the matte finish of her eyepiece. His gaze trailed upwards along her body as his breath caught. "Uh, Private Zac Rousseau. Look, I di'n't mean to be botherin' you, Sarill, de boys, dey told me to be gettin' you up. Sun's been up for hours, yah? You're waked up now, so I'll just be goin' now..."

"Thank you, Zac," Sarill said once she'd taken her helmet off. "Please, don't be scared of me. I wouldn't hurt you," she smiled softly.

He watched her remove the helmet, then shook his head, replying, "It... it's not dat, mon, I'm just de low mon on de totem pole, yah? Di'n't wanna be botherin' you none, not with you bein' all buddy-buddy with de Major. Uhh, you don't mind me askin', why you be sleepin' in dat suit? Don't look too comfy to me..."

Sarill continued to smile as she answered, "It is comfy, and I was too tired to take it off before I went to sleep."

He held out a hand to her, saying, "Oh... well, long as you like it, yah? You needin' a hand to get down? Don't need to be 'urtin' nothin', I figure."

Sarill shook his hand, telling him, "No, I'm fine," then rolled over to grab the bar with her hands. She slid her talons loose, then uncurled to drop on her feet.

Zac watched her acrobatic maneuver, whistling as she landed so gracefully. "Dayamn, you weren't wit' a circus or non, were you? Looks like you done dat a 'undred times an' more."

Sarill grinned with amusement. "I am a bat, you know. I prefer to sleep upside down."

Sarill set up a stand for her armor, then started to climbed out of the protective gear. Zac watched her curiously as she installed the stand, then blushed richly as he saw her start to remove the armor. Turning away, he asked, "Ehh-heh, you just tell me w'en you're done, yah? Don't mind me non..."

Chuckling, she told Zac, "I have a suit on under the armor."

His voice took on a little bit of a squeak as he intoned, "Praise be, mon. Caug't me an eyefull last nig't, lemme tell you. Dem Mutates, dey ain't like me an' y... ah 'ell." His voice trailed off as he realized what he'd just said.

Sarill tapped on his shoulder, standing behind him in her one-piece torso-suit, and giggled, "It's okay, Zac."

He turned back to look at her, a warm flush still covering his face, but he told her, "Eh-heh, y-you look re'lly nice, Sarill."

She smiled, then turned to the refrigerator unit, pulling out another sack of chilled Yautja blood. She tucked it into a bag that she slung around her neck, telling him, "Okay, now for brunch."

Peering at the glowing fluid, Zac told her nervously, "I guess you don' be needin' me, yah? I 'ear tell ya did a number on de kitc'en last nig't...."

Confusion showing on her face, Sarill asked, "A 'number'?"

He gestured wildly and tried to come up with the words he wanted, then said, "Yah, you took a lotta food, dey said? Can't see w'ere you coulda put it, douh... Just a rumor, rig't?"

Grinning, to reveal her sharpened teeth, she explained, "Well, I was very hungry last night. I also have a high metabolism."

He looked at those glittering teeth and swallowed hard. His gaze moved up towards the relatively safe haven of Sarill eyes. "I bet you must, yah," he said as he held out a hand, asking, "Y-you wan' I s'ould s'ow you around a lil', mebbe? Can' say we won' get lost, but I'll try, if you be wantin' me to."

Sarill continued to grin, though she closed her lips over her teeth, and replied, "Sure. And, I don't bite, like I said earlier."

He chuckled softly, his posture shifting to become a little less tense. "It's just... I can' be sayin' I've ever seen no one like you before. 'Ell, we didn' have any of dem Mutates in de old town, an' somet'in' about you seems a lil' diff'ren', some'ow. I'll try to relax, I re'lly will."

Sarill explained to Zac, "Well, I'm a half-breed."

He led her through the halls as they spoke, amazed by Sarill's story, and not afraid to tell her so. After a few minutes, he swept his hand towards a wide, arched entrance, telling her, "And dis is de mess. I t'ink Light-Touch is cookin' right now. S'e's, um, a lil' diff'rent, too."

Sarill nodded. "Okay. Thanks, Zac," then leaned over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Zac blushed again, his breath catching, and without thinking, he slipped his arm around her waist. "S-Sarill! Eh... t'ank you," he replied, seeming distinctly rattled.

Smiling as she told him, "You're welcome," then gave him one last hug before she disengaged and moved into the mess...

Two Humans, a Hispanic woman and a Japanese man, were sitting at one of the tables, chatting casually. A winged wolf was sitting alone at another table, reading a thick paperback. The sounds and smells of frying food wafted from the kitchen.

Sarill walked casually between the tables to the kitchen, glancing around at the other occupants as she passed.

A massive, brown-furred figure was standing inside, with her back turned to the door. She worked two frying pans at the same time, her shoulder muscles bunching as she stirred their contents around. Sarill's eyes were drawn to her lower body, which was quadrapedal, and built like a large grizzly bear.

Sarill blinked, thinking to herself that she hadn't seen anyone this big since the Queen. After a moment, she tapped the tip of her tail-blade on a nearby counter.

The figure turned her torso to fetch a bag of hash, and her eyes caught the figure standing in the doorway. She spoke in a low, smoky tone that was quite enjoyable to listen to, "Oh, welcome! You would be Sarill, am I correct? I call myself Light-Touch, and would be pleased if you would do the same. What might I do for you?"

"Hello, Light-Touch," Sarill replied. "I could do with something to eat. Mainly meat, if you please."

The grizzly-Mutate nodded, then informed her, "Our selection is not as wide as I would like, but I can accommodate you. Please, find a place where you are comfortable, and I will have as fine a feast as I can provide for you in a matter of minutes."

"Thank you," Sarill answered, then turned and found herself a comfortable seat. She began to look over the others, noting that she was just a seat down from the winged wolf.

The lone wolf glanced up over the top of his book at Sarill, his large, round glasses glimmering with reflected light. He nodded his head to Sarill in greeting, then returned to his reading.

She smiled at him and nodded back. He reminded her of the other Morphs, like Tarin. She looked at the humans as well, and saw that they were speaking animatedly, if quietly. They weren't ignoring her, they simply seemed to be engaged in a heated, though friendly, debate over piloting techniques.

Sarill moved to the chair next to the wolf, telling him softly, "Hello."

The wolf looked up at her, placed a slender, copper piece of metal into his book and set it down on the table next to his tray. She noted that its cover showed an elegant spray of blue and purple against a field of black, reading "The Elegant Universe".

His muzzle curled into a small smile, not revealing any of his teeth, and inquired in a surprisingly soft voice, "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Very well, it seems," Sarill replied, as she also kept her teeth mostly hidden, with just the tips of her upper fangs visible. "I'm Sarill," she explained.

He held out his hand, and the other was wrapped around a heavy, ceramic mug with "M.I.T." written on its surface. "Well, my nickname's Hyperspace, but you can call me Dan, if you'd like. Makes little difference to me. It's good to meet you in a more, ah, friendly manner."

"Thanks. I wasn't really a threat to anyone, save for the one I seem to appear to anyone who sees me," Sarill replied with a smile and a faint blush.

He shrugged and seemed to glance past her a little, as he replied, "You might have had the brass worried, but I knew better. I've seen those movies; if you'd wanted us dead, we wouldn't have had a chance."

"I'm not a cold-blooded, unthinking killer like the Drones are," She told him. "I'm only half-Xenomorph, and I tend to lean more towards my Morph-side, really."

He nodded again, then sipped at his beverage, and told her, "Evidently. Internecivus raptus aren't known for their conversational skills. You're," he squinted, pushing up his glasses with his middle and ring fingers, "part vampire bat, yes? They've a bad reputation, but it's undeserved."

"Not vampire bat, not totally. My mother was a fruit bat," she explained. "But, they added genes from the vampire bat to give me an edge in my hunting abilities."

He looked her over intently, before his gaze unfocused again. His sight returned to a point somewhere above her head as he replied, "That would make sense." He nodded his head again, then said, "Hello, Light-Touch."

The grizzly-Mutate set down a heavily loaded tray in front of Sarill with a smile, telling her, "I do hope that you enjoy this repast, Sarill. Please, tell me if there is anything further that you require."

"Thank you, Light-Touch," Sarill said, grinning, then looked at Dan, asking, "I hope you don't mind me eating in front of you."

Light-Touch laid a hand on Sarill's shoulder, replying, "You are most welcome," then returned to the kitchen, humming to herself quietly.

He gestured dismissively with his mug, telling her, "Don't worry about it. I already had a nibble, so I could hardly get annoyed at you. Smells good, though. L-T must have outdone herself for you."

Sarill nodded and started eating, drinking from the sack she carried occasionally. Dan gave her a moment, to see if she would say anything further, then picked up his book again, finding his place easily.

After a minute, another tray slammed down in front of Sarill's, a pair of tanned hands gripping it tightly. Their owner said, "Yo, Hyper. Yo, Sarill. How's the grub?"

Dan nodded his head to her, but didn't say anything.

Sarill looked upward at the owner of the voice, seeing a lithe woman, her red hair standing out in a fine stubble along her skull, that stood in front of her. She wore the loose BDU pants, and a tight crimson undershirt highlighted her toned chest. Slinging one leg over the bench, then the other, she held out a hand, declaring, "Molly Feeney. Ye gave us a good runaround last night, huh?"

Blushing, Sarill said quietly, "I didn't mean to."

Molly reached out to scruffle Sarill's hair, grinning as she told her, "Don't sweat it! I wouldn't mind havin' ye watching my back, that's for sure."

Sarill smiled at that, then went back to eating, telling Molly, "Thank you," after a moment.

Glancing at the blood-pack, Molly gestured at it with a fork. "Wuzzat? Radioactive Kool-Aid? I'd bet L-T didn't mix that up for ye, at least."

Sarill grinned, then replied, "Not... exactly."

With a chuckle at Sarill's hesitation, Molly prodded, "Well, spill it, lass! Or at least, pass it over and lemme give it a swig. We're family now, sorta, and family's supposed to share, eh?"

Sarill blinked, commenting, "I don't think you'd like it," then revealed, "It's Yautja blood."

Molly laughed, holding out her hand. "I'll try anythin' once, Sarill. That some kind of mixed drink?"

Frowning, Sarill asked, "Do you know the creatures known as Predators?"

Molly paused her patter to think for a moment, then said, "Can't say as I do, no. Why, am I supposed to be scared of 'em or somethin'?"

"They Hunt humans and others," Sarill said. "I don't know if they exist here, but they are very nasty," then turned her gaze to Dan, adding, "I think she needs to see the movies," causing him to snicker softly, muffling the sound with his mug.

Molly clapped Sarill on the shoulder and said, "Lass, I'd like to see 'em try hunting this crew. Ye don't have a thing to worry about."

Shrugging, Sarill poured a little of the glowing fluid into a shallow bowl, then slid it over to Molly. She picked up the bowl and stared at it, then tossed the glowing liquid back in a single, practiced motion. After a moment, her face twisted in on itself, and she began coughing, her face flushing in a ruddy tone. She rasped out, as the bowl slid from her fingers, "Christ and Hunter, Sar! Ye're tougher'n ye look."

Sarill grinned, then took another sip, after commenting, "I told you it was not nice to Humans. My body chemistry is a lot different from yours."

Coughing again, Molly reached out to grab Dan's mug, then drained it in a single go as the wolf sighed softly. After her breathing calmed, she told him, "I dunno how ye can drink that stuff, either. It's a far sight better than Sar's rat-poison, though," and began to scrub at her face with her hands.

Dan turned his head to Sarill, explaining tersely, though with an amused grin, "Tea. Earl Grey. Hot."

"Well, you will try to drink the blood of an alien species, despite me warning you..." Sarill said with disapproval, then grinned at Dan to shoot back, "Aye, Captain Jean-Luc."

Molly shook her head to clear it, then sipped at her own beverage, sticking out her tongue. It fluoresced slightly, causing her to frown. "Well, it was good for a laugh, eh?"

As Sarill chuckled at her misfortune, Molly poked at her food in silence for a moment. Her face was still flushed, and faint glimpses of her softly glowing tongue were visible as she tried to get rid of the taste. "Remind me never to ask ye to get me coffee, eh?" she asked rhetorically.

Sarill shrugged, then told her, "I drink it for a number of reasons... and if you want to get rid of it, drink cola."

Rising with her tray, Molly nodded. "Thanks, lass. And, eh, thanks for sharin' it with me, anyway. Ye tried, and that's all I can ask for."

Sarill nodded again, then spoke with concern, "And, I did warn you. I hope you're okay."

With a wry grin, Molly replied, "That ye did, lass, that ye did," then stuck out her tongue again, sighing with relief when she saw that it was no longer glowing. She nodded to Sarill, saying, "Yeah, I'll be fine. Just a little wiser for that, I hope."

Sarill chuckled, then told her, "See you around." Molly waved, striding off towards one of the vending machines.

A faint chiming sounded, and Dan rose silently, telling Sarill, "It was good to meet you. I must leave, though, as I go on duty in half an hour. Catch you later, maybe?"

"I'd hope so," Sarill said as she finished both parts of her meal. She rose, then tossed the empty sack in the garbage and returned her tray, headed out of the mess to look around for 'Seph or Elayne.

She wandered the halls for some time, seeing some familiar faces as well as some new ones, but saw no sign of any of the Gargoyles. She did find the armory, however, manned by the Hispanic woman she'd seen in the mess. Several heavy, metal doors were set into the back wall.

The woman had an unusual rifle broken down in front of her, and was in the process of adjusting the high-tech innards. She looked up to ask, "Can I help you? Sarill, right?"

Sarill nodded in agreement, then asked, "I wondered if you could reproduce unusual calibers of ammunition?"

The soldier stood to pull a tray of shells out from a shelf, then laid it in front of Sarill. "Yeah. These are what we've done so far, and I might be able to do something else, too. I'd need to see a couple of shells, take a few measurements."

Sarill put a small box of the 10mm explosive shells in front of her, as well as three disarmed 25mm grenades. "Are these okay?"

Lifted a few of the shells, holding them to the light, the armorer asked, "Ex-ex heads, huh? You don't mess around. Well, we don't use much caseless, but I think I can help you out. These, though," she said as she pushed the grenades back, "I'm not even going to mess with. Take them down to Lex's department tonight, in the 1st Platoon building."

Sarill packed the grenades away as she asked, "Very well. Where is that?"

The warrior wrote down some directions on a sheet of paper, then pressed it into Sarill's hand, informing her, "Should be easy enough to get to, 'specially if you use your wings. Might as well for nightfall, though, like I said."

"Thanks," Sarill said, then read over the directions as she turned to leave the armory.

The woman called out behind her, "Hey, do you need to kill some time?"

Sarill looked about. "It depends," she replied, then turned around and returned to the desk.

She gestured towards one of the doors behind her, saying, "Name's Velasquez, by the by. The Colonel told me you needed some Black Hawk practice. Well, whenever you want to, just drop by and let me know. I've got a really nice program rigged, feels just like the real thing."

Sarill nodded with a smile, then told her, "I'll be back, then, after I find... Lexington?"

Velasquez chuckled softly, saying, "Sarill, hun, you don't know too much about the Gargoyles, do you?"

Sarill shook her head and confessed, "No."

With a soft smile, Velasquez gestured to one of the chairs. "Have a seat, if you'd like. Okay, Gargs are a little... different. They don't need to eat or drink, they're tougher, stronger than a human, they can glide for hours, and they can regenerate most wounds. They got a problem, though. They have to sleep during they day. They have no choice, they literally petrify. Right now, you might say that Lex is," she grinned widely, "too stoned to be of any use."

Sarill blinked and said simply, "Oh," then added after a moment of contemplation, "So, I won't find Lexington until the night."

Velasquez nodded, replying, "That's right. Lex loves his gadgets, though, so he'll be there within a few minutes of sunset, I guarantee it."

Sarill nodded, then looked at her chron. "I see. Okay then, I'll take the Black Hawk training now, then."

With a soft chuckle, Velasquez asked, "You ever flown a chopper before? They're a little different than your wings, I'll warn you."

Sarill replied confidently, "I have flown rotary-winged aircraft before."

Velasquez began to type instructions into her terminal, replying, "Great! Take Sim #2, then. You don't need to change or anything, it'll read you just fine, but you will need," as she reached into the desk, pulling out a pair of heavy goggles, "these. Take all the time you need, and... have fun, Sarill."

Sarill donned the goggles, then headed into the simulator, and began to look around. The room was a simple cube of burnished steel walls, but as the door slid into place, the lights dimmed. When they rose, she found herself in an immensely complex cockpit. The program was detailed enough that she could see and hear the virtual soldiers in the back.

Sarill sat down, harnessed herself in, and slipped the goggles on. After checking that they were working, she began looking over the controls, familiarizing herself with them.

Her first few flights were just short of disastrous, the antiquated controls proving to be an irritant to her, but over time, she found herself regaining much of her usual proficiency. The simulator adapted, asking her to perform more difficult missions as she began to handle them with her usual skill and ability, her reflexes more attuned for flying than most.

She was in the process of trying to maintain a hover over a burning building, to let her soldiers retreat, when the simulator's colors leached away, the controls going dead in an instant. Velasquez's voice crackled from the simulated speakers, telling her, "You're doing great, but don't you think you should take a break? Besides, it's nearly sunset. You ought to go to the roof. Our commanders put on quite a show, I hear."

Sarill blinked, then asked, "It is?" as she pushed up the goggles.

The cockpit grew flat, and she could easily make out the illusion formed by the projectors built into the walls. Velasquez replied, "Yeah, you got about fifteen minutes. Leave your watch with me, and I'll get a sunset/sunrise alarm rigged onto it, if you'd like."

Sarill unharnessed herself and rose, then headed out of the simulator, telling her, "I can do it from my comp, thanks. Besides, I don't think your computers would be compatible."

Velasquez grinned as Sarill emerged, and pulled off her headset, then asked, "What, they don't use Windows in the future? Something must have gone right, then. Well, you better hustle if you want to make it in time. It's worth the effort."

Sarill gave the goggles back to Velasquez and asked, "Where are they and where's the nearest exit?"

Velasquez gestured to help emphasize her words, "They tend to roost on rooftops. Our Clan," she said with pride, "roosts right on the roof of this building," then explained the quickest route.

"Thanks!" Sarill grinned, then raced off, traveling at speeds that would catch a cheetah. As soon as she got to the access ramp, she took off, flying along its surface at an even faster rate, and emerged into the rays of the setting sun. She angled upwards, to look down on the roofs of the various buildings.

Most of them were bare of anything beyond the usual vent stacks and other such hardware, but her roof had four highly detailed statues, and another, larger, building near the road/runway seemed to have six of the life-like sculptures adorning its eaves.

Sarill came down and gently landed on the 3rd Platoon's roof, where she could see all of her newfound allies. She smiled as her gaze took in 'Seph and Branson.

The six Gargoyles of 1st Platoon were posed in various intimidating stances, their faces twisted in snarls of rage. Elayne and Trent, also, were guarding their rooftop with vicious postures. Branson and 'Seph, however, stood in the middle of the roof, their wings wrapped around each others' shoulders, mouths locked in what might be the longest kiss in recorded history.

The sun sunk below the horizon, darkness washing over Brooklyn's kin first. Immensely loud, echoing cries filled the desert, hurting Sarill's ears a little, and she could hear a faint crackling noise underneath them. Before she could turn to look, the sun spared her Clan, prompting another round of the harsh screams, though two of them sounded distinctly muffled, which made her grin even more widely.

The grey, rough stone began to slough off their bodies in large chunks as they rose and stretched, spreading their wings high. Trent drew his limbs close to his body, then flexed outward with tremendous power, forcing the shards to explode off his body. Elayne shook herself more gently, the clay-like patches clinking to the ground softly. 'Seph spread her wings, knocking the lithodermis free from them, then grasped Branson by the waist, lifting him into the air effortlessly as they continued from where the sun had so rudely interrupted them.

Elayne turned around, grinning as she heard the soft, pleasured groans coming from 'Seph and Branson, then saw Sarill standing there, watching. She stepped over, then said, "Hoi, Sarill! You been keep yourself busy while we were sleeping?"

Sarill nodded as she waved to the Gargoyle, replying, "Sure have. That was an interesting display."

Elayne grinned, pointing a clawed thumb at Trent. "It's wicked. I've seen it a few times, when lazybones sleeps in a lil'. Hey, might as well make a show of it, if we're gonna do it, y'know?"

Giggling behind her hand, Sarill told Elayne, "Velasquez said I nearly broke her simulator."

Elayne raised an eyebrow, chuckling as she sat on a vent stack near Sarill, and said, "Dayamn, girl. She seems to be really hard to impress. You oughta be pleased."

Branson's feet touched the roof for the first time in over a minute as 'Seph released him, both lovers gasping for breath, but looking very happy.

"Brooklyn said you're going to be investigating a compound in Houston," Sarill told Elayne, then asked, "Like a high-tech scout to go in for you and give the place the once-over?"

Elayne looked back at Branson and 'Seph, then at Sarill again, and said, "I think that'd rock, but we'll need to talk it over. You sure you're up to going on a mission so soon? Brook said we'd be leaving in just a couple of days." She frowned, looking glum, "We're gonna split up. I don't like that."

Sarill replied confidently, looking Elayne in the eye as she did so, "I've been doing these kinds of missions for years." She said.

Elayne sighed, gripping Sarill's shoulder. "I feel for ya, girl. Well, I'd certainly go for it. Trent's idea of 'infiltration' tends to involve a lot of busted down doors."

A soft padding reached Sarill's ears as 'Seph began to walk over to join them, and she noticed a heavy-looking pouch hanging at the Gargoyle's belt, clinking softly as she moved. Sarill also noticed that the azure giantess' bosom was noticeably smaller, for some reason, and that her womb was flattened, no longer displaying the soft swell it had the night before.

'Seph stretched, yawning widely, then replied, "Good evening, you two. Did you sleep well, Sarill?"

Nodding, Sarill replied, "Yes, I did. Did you?"

'Seph looked back towards Branson, smiled softly, then nodded, returning her gaze to Sarill. "Quite well. I had no unpleasant dreams, for once. Um, I'd like you to," she pulled the pouch loose, opening it, "try these on for size before I finish them."

She revealed a pair of slender rerebraces, formed of some unrecognizable brownish material, their surface pitted lightly. Sarill looked them over, then slipped them onto her arms.

They were a little bit loose, though Sarill figured that her armor's mesh would fill the space quite nicely, but she found that they were rather heavy. Not unmanageably, but their weight was noticeable. 'Seph explained, "They're made from a magical alloy, which I call Adamant. It's very, very strong, though a little brittle. But, that's not their important quality..."

"And, somewhat heavy." Sarill interrupted.

'Seph's face fell, a frown splitting her striking visage. Her eyes widened slightly, making her look much like a puppy that had just been kicked. She said quietly, "Oh... I didn't realize..."

Sarill smiled and told her, "It's okay. What is their most important quality?"

Looking up into Sarill's face, 'Seph asked, "Are you sure? I can try to make them thinner, if you think it would help. And, um, it might be easier for me to demonstrate. Please, do not fear..."

Without a hint of fear, Sarill told her, "Go ahead."

'Seph stood back, took a deep breath, then raised her right hand. She drew a zigzagging shape into the air, intoning the words, "Fulmenous venite!"

Elayne tensed, her expression questioning, but she stayed well clear. A bolt of glowing electricity split the air with a small thunderclap, lancing for Sarill's chest, but as it approached, the bolt forked, writhing towards her arms.

As the bolts struck the rerebraces, their brownish surfaces began to glow softly, then faded, showing no sign of the spell beyond a faint tang of ozone in the air. 'Seph sighed, wiping her brow, and explained, "They'll protect you against magic."

"Okay. I understand their significance," she replied, staring at the braces, and found that they were not scorched or discolored in the slightest, then added, "Hopefully they won't interfere with the camo-field."

'Seph knelt in front of Sarill, meeting her eyes. "I didn't think of that, I'm afraid. I don't believe that they will, though. Please, accept these, in return for the princely gift you gave me. Or rather, accept them when I'm finished working on them," she corrected, smiling.

With a smile, Sarill unlatched the rerebraces, saying, "Sure. Whenever you've got them ready."

'Seph took the Adamant plates back, placing them into her pouch again, then laid a hand on Sarill's shoulder gently, saying, "That's why I wanted to see your armor. I want these to match, as best as I can. I don't know well they will serve you in your world, but they will prove quite useful in this one. Besides, the metal is quite strong."

Nodding her head in thanks, Sarill told her, "They're fine. They're not too heavy for me to be able to cope with them."

'Seph smiled, then said, "I'm afraid I must leave you, though. I have an appointment with Lex, to be fitted for my new gear, and I want to borrow some tools from him. I will see you later tonight, perhaps?"

"I have to see Lex as well, for a little time," Sarill added, before 'Seph could turn away.

'Seph laughed, replying, "Excellent, then! I would like to see you in flight. You'll like Lexington, I believe. He tends to make people feel at ease."

Sarill grinned, saying, "Okay," then opened her wings, taking off almost straight upwards with great sweeps of her wings.

Sighing, 'Seph wished fervently that she could fly so gracefully, then began to run for the edge of the roof, leaping into the air powerfully, spreading her wings wide...

----Epilogue----

" - think I could work up some new ones for you, Sarill. They won't have the punch you're used to, but they'll do the job," Lexington finished telling her, spinning the explosive charge in his hands, carefully.

Sarill watched the shining cylinder as she replied, "Good. That one doesn't have the explosive in it, so you can take it apart safely."

He tossed the grenade above his head, then snatched it out of the air with his tail, grinning at her. "You mind if I keep this, then? It'll make a nice souvenir. I'd love a chance to look at your rifle sometime, too."

Smiling, Sarill nodded, telling him, "Sure. I'll bring it with me tomorrow night, if you'd like."

He chuckled as he looked over to the other side of the armory, replying, "Oh, trust me, I'd like. Hey, Elgee, how you doing with 'Seph?"

The woman in question called back instead, answering for herself. Her voice was hesitant, and even a little lower than normal. "Umm, not so good. I think I-I'm going to need a... t-tailor."

Sarill turned her head to look at her, then began to giggle. 'Seph was attempting to don one of Colonel Goliath's spare uniforms. With a few temporary pins to adjust the fit, the long, loose pants seemed to suit her well, and even managed to flatter her powerful legs.

The swirled, tri-colored fabric of the top, adjusted for maximum give, seemed to have trouble accommodating her. Her face had turned a brilliant purple, and she held one arm over her breasts modestly as she dangled the shirt out for Lex or Elgee to take. "It wasn't m-made for my... f-figure, I think."

Lexington raised an eyeridge and scratched at his hairless scalp, muttering, "I can see that..."

Elgee spoke softly, their filtered voice asking her politely, "Would you be so kind as to step behind the curtain to allow me to take your measurements?"

Frowning, 'Seph followed the battered Gargoyle as she replied, "I'm not s-sure how much g-good they'll do, but sure..."

Lex chuckled, then turned his gaze back to Sarill with an amused shrug. He told her, quietly, "She's gonna take some work, I think. I'm looking forward to armoring her, that'll be enough of a challenge to be fun."

Sarill looked at some of the gear arrayed around the room, then asked, "Would you like to see my armor?"

With a glance back, as Elgee and 'Seph stepped behind the curtain, Lex answered, "I sure would. First, though, I'd like you to take a look at this," then reached into the large drawer of his workbench, but before he could remove his special project, an exceptionally loud roar sounded out from behind the curtain.

Rising to her feet in a single, smooth motion, Sarill walked over to peer behind the curtain. She found that Elgee had stepped back from 'Seph, their fingers extended into long, sharp spikes. They held their hands out in front of their body with a tense posture.

'Seph was crouched tightly, her body folded into itself, and her breathing was heavy and hoarse. Strangest of all were her eyes, which had changed in an unnatural manner. Her sclera had turned black, her pupils silver, and her irises a pale, shimmering gold. She began to speak in a low, eerie tone, making the fur on Sarill's back stand straight out. "Heroes shall rise, heroes shall fall/seven shall pay the most of all/their lives given to save the rest/when this world dies."

Lexington's khaki-hued skin paled, but he searched around, his eyes still locked on hers, finding a notepad blindly. He began to scrawl quickly, noting down her every word as Elgee glanced back, asking softly, "Sir? What now?"

'Seph continued to intone the prophesy, her voice taking an even meter despite the roughness of her breath. "The Cursed One shall be the first to perish/his death to signal the end of all we cherish/released at last from his quest/when this world dies."

"Does she do this often?" Sarill asked Lex, glancing towards him quickly before returning her gaze to the trembling seer.

Lex licked at his suddenly dry lips, whispering in response, "Not while she's awake."

Her voice failed slightly, stammering a few of the words of the next quatrain, "The F-Firstborn shall be the last to s-succumb/the hero he s-shall finally become/u-unity a final r-request/when this world dies."

Elgee sheathed their claws, dropping from their guard posture as they peered into those unnatural eyes, sparks of green and red flickering at high speed along their own cybernetic pupil.

'Seph's voice took back its earlier strength as she spat out the fourth verse, "The Once and Future King rides off to battle/the planet shudders when it hears his death rattle/mourning the loss of one so blessed/when this world dies."

Lexington turned to his visitor and whispered, "Sarill, she's still in there. Go to her... please."

'Seph chanted the next refrain, her eyes still held wide open, as if in terror. "The Fair Queen lays aside her schemes/sacrificing herself to secure her dreams/striking against that which she can only detest/when this world dies."

Sarill nodded to him, then opened up her mind and its powerful telepathic abilities. Concentrating on her new friend, she pushed forward and dove into 'Seph's mind. A vision of some strange, ancient structure of standing stones assaulted her mind, a great army of twisted, mutated creatures rushing towards it as an immense, rotting, putrescent worm plowed between their ranks.

She heard 'Seph's voice gibber in horror and another, unfamiliar voice intoned, "The Unmaker's forces swell with every passing/its terrible shadow all-surpassing/a baleful grin widening with every growing unrest/when this world dies."

Heading for 'Seph's voice, Sarill stretched out with her mind, touching all of the sensitives she could reach, then began to relay what she was perceiving, filling their minds with the vision.

'Seph was clinging to the body of an enormous reptile, her skin almost white with fear. The creature spread its wings, then hurled itself into the grey, lightning-torn air, carrying her along. The poisonous worm spat a glob of acid that burned into the majestic, red-scaled creature's hide.

The implacable feminine voice continued to drone, "The Light in the Darkness flares/then fades/his soul a weapon to drive back the shades/crying a mournful roar in final protest/when this world dies."

Sarill took wing and followed the creature. Her armor appeared around her in an instant, but it seemed slightly translucent and glowed with an inner power. Bile sprayed in all directions from the impact, but the drops that touched her armor shimmered out of existence.

The reptile bucked and writhed in agony, accidentally spilling an insensible 'Seph from its side. Below them, light began to flare as a tall, canid creature opened fire with an immense chaingun, cutting into the loathsome hordes.

Her tone and cadence never shifting, despite the apocalyptic events occurring below, the ethereal voice intoned, "The Devil-Touched bides his time, within the shadows he hides/his mind divided, he weighs the sides/revealing his decision with the fury of a man possessed/when this world dies."

Sarill furled her wings and swooped, then caught 'Seph. Her body grew to a tremendous size, her wings seeming to block out the sky above, as she compensated for 'Seph's apparent weight.

'Seph burrowed into Sarill's comforting bulk. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed, still whispering something over and over again. Strangely, it reminded Sarill of one of those old Latin pieces that her partner liked so much.

Around them, lightning arced and flashed, leaving behind lingering lines of green. They arranged themselves into an orderly grid, as far as the eye could see. Below them, a squad of figures made from shimmering, flowing metal, wearing glowing armor, plunged into an army of specks formed from pure darkness, tearing at them with their bare hands.

Between the two lines, a small, delicate Gargoyle wrought of that same flowing metal, garbed in green light, faced off against a figure formed of shadow, writhing formlessly to dodge her attacks.

The dispassionate voice continued to speak, heedless, as though she were reading lines from a book. "The Child-Goddess duels in the ether with her rival/both sprites seeking the upper hand, doubting their own survival/'til one makes the fatal mistake in their contest/when this world dies."

Sarill held 'Seph close to her, protectively, as her body began to subtly change. Her trim, streamlined figure fills out with sleek, strong muscles as her very bones thicken. Yet, despite her growing bulk, it's the four streamlined head-strikes that swooped back from her head that drew the eye, or perhaps the way that her tail lengthened, with vertebra-like ridges rising from its surface. Her form seemed to exude power and confidence like a tangible substance.

The two electronic warlords hurled themselves at each other, floating upwards into the cathode-lit sky in a dizzying flurry of punches, kicks, tail-lashes, tentacle-whips, and other strikes, shooting past 'Seph and Sarill in an instant. As they ascended, they began to glow, emitting a colorless, intense light that blinded Sarill.

When her vision cleared, she floated above the stone structure again. The plague worm laid in its center, and wounds appeared on its flanks out of thin air. It trembled and rocked, crushing megaliths below its bulk, as its unholy ichor flowed out of its body, soaking into the ground below.

With a ringing tone of finality, the female voice chanted, "When all seems darkest, the last defenders unite and stand tall/the Unmaker meets its match, overconfidence its downfall/but even in death, it leaves a last, lingering test/when this world dies."

Sarill looked around out as she settled on the blasted battlefield again, fully three times her normal size. Despite her majestic size, she still stood knee-high in the ravaged bodies of the dead. Both armies lay mingled on the ruined plain, without care for how or why they fought, or whom they might be leaving behind

With that final, lingering image, the vision faded. Sarill blinked a few times as she felt the aberrant presence fade, and she saw 'Seph staring up into her face, still mouthing those comforting words as blood slowly returned to her skin. Somehow, even as her mind was trapped in the projection, she had stepped forward to embrace the Gargoyle, trying to comfort and protect her the way she had in the hallucination.

'Seph gazed into those featureless, reflective lenses and continued to whisper, "- mori facias... ne me mori facias... ne me mo..." then trailed off, looking distinctly green, as though she were about to be sick. Lexington tossed his pad aside and rushed to her other side as Elgee loped off, joints whirring, to get some water.

Sarill gently laid a hand on 'Seph's forehead and delved again, into her surface thoughts this time, and tried to remove some of the trauma from her psyche.

'Seph swallowed convulsively, then whispered, "T-thank you, Sarill. I don't k-know how much l-longer I can stand this..."

Sliding her hand away from 'Seph's face, Sarill looked the trembling woman over. Smiling, she said, "You are welcome," then asked, with a concerned tone of voice, "Are you all right?"

Lexington pressed his slender body into 'Seph's side, wrapping his arms around her waist to comfort her, as she moaned, "Hell no... I-I don't know i-if I'll ever be r-right again... so much d-death..."

----The End----