The next morning
Headquarters—First-Fang, White Rock Lookout, the Northern Plains, Gao
Grandfather Garl of Clan Stoneback
Daar loved reunions with the First-Fang. Most of his original crew were gone, died, retired, or moved on, but he regularly visited and regularly Challenged and maintained his (honorary) position as First-Fang Leader. It was important for a Champion of Stoneback to be a capable leader; theirs was a more active role than in many other Clans, and they were full partners with the Clan Grandfather. Which was important, ‘cuz Stoneback Grandfathers didn’t last long.
Daar had a lot of Grandfathers over the years. In Stoneback, being able to do mattered a LOT. Fathers, when they weren’t capable of doing anymore ‘cuz of injury or age…they retired. At that point in a Stoneback’s life they didn’t generally have long left to live anyway so it worked out well. A quiet, dignified end in a comfortable home with his respect intact and his reputation admired.
Grandfathers ended up being the retired Fathers who simply didn’t die off too quick and knew too much about everything to abandon. But even still, they didn’t often last more than a few years. Grandfather Garl, though: he’d lasted over ten years, was still physically vigorous even if he wasn’t quite in peak form, and he was so old that the only brown left on him was along his cheeks. He was entirely white otherwise, and he knew every trick and every Job in Stoneback.
He sat on his chair, watching the First-Fang play-brawl before Fiin was formally introduced. A Meeting was always like this. It was a good way to keep the ‘Backs playful and happy, and it was also the bestest time to meet someone new. Daar decided they were loosened up enough and happy. He looked over at Garl, who nodded solemnly then stood up and bark-yipped loudly.
“Havin’ fun?” Garl’s voice was deep, gravelly, and commanded instant respect.
A cacophonous series of barks, yips, growls, and chittering followed. He nodded at Daar, who stood up and addressed the Fang.
“Good! I found someone I want y’all to meet! Brother Fiin, step forward.”
He did, tall and proud with his Naxas blanket as a cloak over his shoulders.
“Fiin here has traveled with me to Cimbrean and learned from the SOR, even as we taught them our ways. He’s new and he’s not struck Combat School yet but I believe in him! Will you join me in welcoming our newest ‘Back?”
The ‘Backs responded by opening a spot in the crowd and growling in Challenge. And Fiin rose to it. He snarled happily, cast off his cloak, and charged right in.
He was defeated instantly. Garl knew that would happen but he always held out hope that the new young ‘Backs would prove as epic as Daar. That wasn’t really fair, but a Grandfather could dream, couldn’t he?
And besides, Fiin fought well even hopelessly outmatched. He escaped, attacked, was rebuffed, flanked and tried again. It was all in good play and he was fast and clever like Grandfather had rarely seen. Not unlike Daar, in fact.
Grandfather was pleased, Daar had chosen well.
Things came to a climax when Daar joined in. Few ‘Backs could even approach him in size or ability so it was much like a Father playing with cubs. Before long, Daar and Fiin were in the middle, fending off all efforts.
Then things got much friendlier as the Brothers accepted their new member. The greeting was a test, really, but only a gentle one; any ‘Back at that stage of their career was perfectly qualified. All the Brothers wanted to test was the new member’s spirit, and Fiin had it. Tyal, the permanent Warleader of First-Fang, hung back while everyone sniffed noses and complimentary words were exchanged.
“You’re fast Brother!” One particularly large ‘Back observed. “How did you get like that?”
“Always have been!” Fiin preened a bit, still on all fours and not pretending to any Civilized effrontery. “I’ll get bigger too, just gotta work harder!”
Garl flicked his ears happily. He’s a keeper.
All that pleased the Brothers and much happy ear semaphore ensued. Fiin had lots to say and he complimented them in turn, and within a few minutes, everyone was good friends. Fiin looked deliriously happy…just like Grandfather remembered it was like. Lucky Brother.
Time to move on. “Daar, let’s brief ‘em on the mission.”
Champion and Stud-Prime Daar of Clan Stoneback
“Right.” Daar detangled and ambled over to the front of the group. “I know we all wanna eat so I’ll keep it short! You were briefed on DEEP RELIC, yeah?”
“Yes, Champion.” Tyal answered formally for the group.
“Good. Our mission in the next few weeks will be risky. We will, uh, ‘encourage’ Champion Loomi to call a Conclave just as quick as he possibly can.” Daar cringed internally. That got a reaction just like he knew it would, and there was much nervous shifting on foot and paw.
“Yup, I kinda feel the same way. It’s risky. But Champion Genshi has a plan, one I’m fully behind, and we’ve gotta follow through. Purging the Clans of Hierarchy has gotta happen now and that ain’t gonna happen if the Champions don’t agree. And, well…Loomi will need persuading. Nothing bad, but we need to secure the Conclave Hall, and Genshi and I need to chat with him. Got that?”
There was reluctant nodding. Mission intent delivered. Now the rough outline.
“Okay, good. Here’s the loose plan, we’ll get into detail laters. We will assault and secure the original part of High Mountain Fortress with the minimum amount of force and the maximum amount of stealth. Whitecrest will be assisting us—don’t worry, we’re gonna delineate responsibilities. The objective is the installation’s security, firstly, and the detention of all Highmountain personnel, secondly, and for myself and Fiin to secure the Champion.”
That caused more reaction, so Daar explained. “I am personally taking Fiin for two reasons. This is a Champion’s game so I owe Loomi my personal attention. And Fiin, well, no offense—” Daar looked at the little ‘Back, “You’re too small and inexperienced t’be trusted just yet without paw-holding, which the rest of my ‘Backs can’t spare just now. But you’ll be watching my tail and keeping me safe, and I trust you for that. Got it?”
“…Yes, my Champion.” He seemed slightly deflated.
“Heh, don’t worry. It’ll come in time and this is good experience! Also? You and I being a separate mission element keeps us outta Tyal’s fur, ‘cuz Tyal is still Warleader. I will be answering to you, Brother. Sound good?”
Daar could see the tension fall out of Tyal’s posture. Taking his command would have been acceptable, given Daar’s status…but it would’ve caused problems.
“Sounds good to me, my Champion.”
“Good. That’s honestly as much planning as I’m gonna do, ‘cuz this is Tyal’s Fang, not mine. He and I’ll talk this over real good, then we’ll plan, and we’ll all train for the mission. We’ve got a few weeks, you’ve all done stuff like this before…I expect a successful mission. Questions?”
Nobody asked any. They knew the time for that was later.
“Good, then let’s eat!”
And from there, they ate, they caroused, then they slept, and it was good.
Planning began the next morning.
13y 10m 2w AV
Champion’s Sanctum, High Mountain Fortress, the Cold Steppes, Planet Gao
Early morning
Champion and Stud-Prime Loomi of Clan Highmountain
Loomi was unhappy. Anyone would be if they had experienced a morning like his. After all, what depraved person would enjoy being assaulted in their own domain—by Champion Daar himself, no less—“asked” to call a Conclave, “persuaded” to undergo immediate invasive surgery…and then receive the Revelation of a lifetime? A good word, that. A suitably epic term which matched well with his mood.
Genshi was there with a small Claw of Whitecrest operatives along with Daar and a full Fang of Stoneback assault troopers. The Fortress security didn’t detect their infiltration until it was far, far too late, which Loomi found personally insulting. After all, nobody wants to be surprised in their own office and he had personally installed the security in the Champion’s Sanctum. It was good. “Was” being the operative word. Annoying. But as he quickly came to understand, eminently necessary.
At least he was the tallest male in the room. Daar may have been as wide as a door but Loomi was a tick or two taller, and that small fortune gave him just enough gravitas to retain his dignity. He put aside his pride for a moment and asked the most pertinent question. “How long have we known?”
Genshi was forthright. “For some time. It has taken a great deal of maneuvering and dirty work to prepare for this moment. I will not bore you with the details but I assure you, this is the earliest we could safely escalate to this level.”
Loomi glanced over at Daar, who duck-nodded agreeably. “It’s all true. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think it weren’t important.”
Loomi accepted that. Much like the Stonebacks, the best breeding lines in Highmountain had exceptionally keen senses. Loomi was Stud-Prime because all of his were excellent. Not even Genshi, the master of self control himself, could easily lie in Loomi’s presence, and in any case the little Whitecrest wasn’t controlling his poise like normal. Given the subject matter…
“Do you have proof of this? You’ve given me only the barest details. Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.”
“Yes.” Genshi looked over his shoulder and Loomi gasped when a Human appeared from seemingly nowhere. He moved with a powerful cunning that belied his Deathworld origins—or maybe he was gifted with that predatory grace because of that. Regardless, Loomi recognized the man instantly.
“Templar.”
[“That I am,”] he said in excellent Gaori. [“As you might imagine I did not make this trip on a whim. Champion Genshi has been running himself mangy to arrange everything leading up to this, and Champion Daar is taking time out of his arduous training—and incurring extra hardship—to help make the point.”]
Daar duck-nodded but otherwise remained silent.
Loomi looked the Human over. [“And you appear before me in the full regalia of your station. Is this meant to be an official visit?”]
“As official as it gets,” this time in English.
“Understand.” Loomi’s English wasn’t particularly good, but he would try. “Make big point?”
“Yes. I have evidence as well.” Genshi translated Templar’s speech to save Loomi from any potential embarrassment.
‘Good. Can see?”
Knight duck-nodded and handed over a tablet. “I realize this was not the most dignified way to spring this on you—”
Loomi waved a huge paw dismissively. “Dignity for young Clans. Highmountain want truth.”
Templar nodded agreeably. “Very well. There is much we have not told you yet. For that, we need your promise of secrecy.” He looked down at the tablet, which had the Gaoian version of the non-disclosure agreement.
Loomi read it very quickly, which raised an eyebrow from Templar. “Is too late for make nice. I agree.” He pressed his thumb and signed his agreement.
Templar took a breath while Genshi handed him a bottle of water. “Very well. It begins in San Diego…”
Revelation was not a pleasant experience.
“You were right to do this, Genshi. My only shame is that Stoneback and Highmountain were not leading the charge on this fight.”
“Put it down to circumstance, more than anything.” Templar discreetly switched back to Gaori. “Regaari of Whitecrest was a happy accident. We built trust with him first and it is trust well-placed. Then Daar of Stoneback fell into place by Genshi’s clever paw. From there we’ve expanded our network of trust, and now we have reached you.” He nodded in a manner which Loomi interpreted as respectful. “We are immensely grateful you are now involved. Because, frankly…your Clan will be the most, ah, problematic.”
“Yes.” Loomi duck-nodded in weary agreement. Despite all their history, in the modern era Highmountain was devoted primarily to science and research, and that made them far and away the most heavily augmented population of Gaoians. Virtuall y no Brother was without.
“Will ‘ya need help, Brother?” Daar filled his corner of the room; he was so big and heavily muscled these days, he dwarfed even the human with much size to spare. Daar crossed his huge arms over his chest and stood on one thick leg, which in Gaoian body language it implied a skeptical but friendly intent.
Loomi chittered darkly. “We’ve maintained the old traditions because some of the secrets we protect here could be devastating to the Gao. I assure you, we have the means and the will to guard them. Once Grandfather learns of this, he will move swiftly to sequester or exterminate every last Brother of the Clan.”
Daar also chittered darkly and nodded approvingly.
“Quite.” Templar cleared his throat. “Well. There is another point we must discuss. Lads?”
Loomi smelled an air current shift and he gasped, for around the corner emerged four Humans of astounding physical presence. Suddenly, Daar wasn’t the biggest creature in the room. Loomi recognized them immediately—all four were prominent in the Human’s propaganda—but to see them in person—!
“Loomi, allow me to introduce Stainless, Baseball, Righteous, and Warhorse.” The four nodded, with the shortest and largest grinning and bouncing in place.
“…Well met. Are these your bodyguard, Templar?”
“Yes. But they are also here to illustrate a point, to show how far we felt we needed to go to defend against these threats. You will find few Humans who are a match for Stainless in either body or mind. Note that he is the smallest member of the HEAT. The ‘Beef Trio’ are in a league all their own. We have paid a terrible sum in treasure and otherwise to enable and sustain their physical and professional development, and the Lads themselves—especially these three—have made great personal and permanent sacrifices to achieve this.”
Templar paused for a moment, to let the point sink in. “But as supremely capable as these men are, what we cannot do is make them in quantity.”
“Ah.” The point became clear. “Whereas the Gao number over twenty billion and we have massive infrastructure, owing to recent colonization efforts…but no single Clan has the means. Stoneback and Highmountain combined have preserved the necessary traditions. Whitecrest, Ironclaw, Firefang, One-Fang…all have parts of what is needed—”
Realization struck him hard. “You cannot be serious!”
Daar chittered deeply, “Toldja he’d figger it out quick.”
“Oh, we are.” Genshi grinned in a nakedly aggressive gesture. “Together we’re gonna found a new Clan, and that Clan will be the Grand Army of Gao.”
The next morning
“Pre-game” before the Champions arrive for the Conclave
Technical Sergeant Adam (Warhorse) Arés
“Are you sure we’ve gotta step out like this?” The four were wargaming what would be the most psychologically useful uniform to appear in and Genshi wasn’t quite sure what might work best. At the moment they were trying their ubiquitous “light PT uniform” which consisted of their infamous Ranger shorts and nothing else. Normally, Adam wouldn’t care about any of it, but…
“You, of all people?” Powell shook his head, “Gettin’ cold feet, are we?”
“Well, yeah. It’s awful drafty here, sir.”
Burgess and Firth both chuckled.
Powell’s eyes twinkled. “Aye, but we need t’put on a good show, lads. And anyways by Gaoian standards this is formal attire.”
“Almost,” noted Genshi. “A truly formal occasion would require no clothing or accouterments of any kind.”
“I don’ think bein’ buck nekkid would make ‘em any more scary,” added Daar, leaning against Stainless in a very Gaoian mode of friendliness. “Y’all are already so stinky they’re gonna know Humans’re here ‘fore they set foot in th’ hall.”
“Only if they know what a Human smells like,” noted Loomi.
“…Oh yeah. Still gonna smell scary, though.” The Gaoians duck-nodded. Daar’s communicator beeped, “Ooh, gotta go! We should be ready in a few.” And with that, Daar, sank to all fours and galloped out of the room at an impressive clip. Fiin, Daar’s impressive counterpart, shrugged his shoulders and chased after him. Fiin hadn’t said a word the entire time, too bad.
Everyone paused for a moment and Firth, ever the man to murder silences, broke the ice. “Y’know maybe we should just prance out there in our birthday suits. As much shit as we get about ‘em from Dex and crew? Serve ‘em right.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “I swear you have some sorta streaker fetish.”
“You’re hardly one to talk! Didn’t you run across the green the other day—”
“They do seem functionally pointless,” interjected Genshi, in a desperate bid to pre-empt another round of banter. “Why even bother?”
“Nah,” countered Firth. “They keep m’ big boys from floppin’ outta control!” He said it with his trademark shit-eating grin, and the rest of the men smiled too.
“Easy, Lads.” A rare and treasured smile twitched at the corner of Powell’s mouth. Adam was always happy when the Major smiled; it was a good reminder of why he and the rest of the Lads loved him so much.
“How much longer?” Burgess was maybe feeling a little more self-conscious ‘cuz of his acres of curly body hair. He wasn’t being obvious about it but Adam could tell and felt slightly guilty. Maybe I shouldn’t tease him so much.
An idea! “Y’know I’m kinda jealous right now. I bet you’re feeling nice and comfy!” He shivered, “This is maybe a little too cold for me.”
“You, cold?” Firth raised his eyebrow suspiciously.
Adam shrugged hugely. “My people are meant for warm weather.”
Burgess blurted out, “Bro, so are mine—WAIT. Are you—?” And sure enough a closer inspection revealed goosebumps all up and down Adam’s mighty arms.
“Well fuck,” laughed Burgess, “I finally win at something!” Firth smirked and cast a knowing look at Adam, who smiled in return.
“Heh, laugh it up, bro! Imma wrestle you tonight for PT.”
“Bring it, midget!” Burgess was suddenly in a much cheerier mood.
Adam smiled and bounced in place; he liked it when his friends were happy. Another idea! He dropped to the floor and cranked out some pushups, switched to handstands, flipped onto his feet and did one-legged squats—
“What are you doing?” That from Genshi.
“Keepin’ warm and pumpin’ up,” Adam beamed. Powell sighed but joined in, as did the other three. “I mean, the mission right now is to help Loomi sell the Army Clan, right? And we’re here to look fuckin’ badass, right? Well…” He switched to one-armed handstands. “May as well have fun doin’ it.”
“I never thought I would be reduced to this,” grumbled Powell. Adam noted that Powell didn’t stop his calisthenics.
“Aww, c’mon, it’s fun, sir!” Firth smirked, “Besides, I bet you like showing off…”
“Whatever gave you that impression, Master Sergeant?” He smiled, but the mention of rank was a not-so-subtle hint to drop it. Firth grinned and did so.
“Just a hunch, sir.” Another grin but he didn’t push it any further. He made nice with a mild compliment. “Good thing you don’t, us ugly bros need a chance!”
“Your nose seems a bit brown, suddenly.” Burgess chuckled low.
“Meh. Gotta stay on his good side somehow.”
Adam shook his head and chuckled. All the Lads had an irrepressible burning need to constantly push the boundaries. But Firth, along with Rebar? They were the undisputed grandmasters of riding that fine line between humorous and unacceptable. Rebar was so good, Adam often didn’t even notice.
In any case, at that moment Firth was referencing an incident several months back where the Lads spied Powell in his yard and across their shared field in a state of undress. Nothing lewd or untoward, but he did have company…It made the Lads happy to see their commander loosening up and acting a fool for his lady’s entertainment. Why ruin a good thing? They never told Powell they’d noticed him, and also swore they would never dime him out.
Mostly. Like all of SOR’s shenanigans, a game magicked itself into being, where the Lads would tease the Major by alluding to “the Incident” as obliquely as they could and always in the happiest possible terms. All of the Lads played along but by far the ballsiest was Firth. Nobody else was willing to push the boundaries quite as hard as he. He who dares.
Genshi looked up from his communicator. “The Champions have been secured. They’re all green and the two with implants have had them removed. Rather forcefully, I’m afraid.”
“What’s their mood?” Powell bounced in place, following Adam’s lead. He was a cheery and happy hulk and was by then completely comfortable in his skin and in his role as Humanity’s ultimate meathead. Who better to lead PT?
“Lots of bruised egos. The Stoneback Fang wasn’t gentle when they secured them all at once, and the Champions fought back. Not that it mattered against a full Fang…anyway, Loomi and Knight have their work cut out for them.”
“Aye. What next?”
Admiral Knight joined them, resplendent in his full service uniform. “I stride onto the dais with my personal guard, it would seem.” His eyes gleamed at the humor. “Quite the show we’re putting on!”
“I bet you’re warm in that uniform, sir.” Adam grinned his big, happy grin.
“Quite. Our role is easy Lads, you lot are both exhibit and my honor guard. Security is provided by our hosts and we cannot interfere. Our job is more or less to be a visual backdrop for Loomi and Genshi to make their sales pitch.”
“In Ranger shorts.”
“Yes. Well. ‘Shock and awe’ is the name of the game here. Most of these Champions have never seen a human in person and that makes it vital we show them just what we can be if needs must.” He eyed the men, “Actually…maybe with fatigues, boots, and beret instead of bare-chested. I think somehow that would be more…”
“Ominous?” Genshi bared his teeth in a friendly-aggressive sort of way.
“Dignified?” Offered Firth in a very innocent-sounding yet sharp quip.
“Appropriate. We’re forgetting you’re supposed to be bodyguards as well.”
Adam nodded along with the rest. “With weapons and armor, sir?”
Knight looked at Genshi and the two communed telepathically, like leaders do. “No armor I think. I know it’s a risk but it’s a very small one and we need the visual…” He gestured at Adam, who bounced his thick chest in reply (with no e-tattoo that day) and offered his biggest, most innocent-puppy shit-eating grin.
Knight shook his head, not for the first time reflecting on what a handful the Lads must be for Major Powell. “Indeed! So I think boots, those fatigue trousers of yours, the beret and just the t-shirt, no blouse or tactical vest. We can try and have the best of both worlds that way. And if you will allow it…?” He glanced at Genshi, who considered.
“I’ll allow it, weapons would be a useful visual flair. We would ask you exercise restraint, however.” Genshi brought up the security plan on a tablet. “We’ve already designed coverage from all possible angles and any engagement you might end up in would be detrimental in many ways.”
Powell and the Lads looked over the security plan. It was exactly like they’d come to expect from Whitecrest: competent, well-designed, and discreet.
“All the same, I’d prefer to be armed anyway.”
“Understood and acceptable,” agreed Genshi. “And in any case armor wouldn’t be necessary. Gaoians use heavy pulse weapons and bombs in our combat. The former wouldn’t do much to bother any of you, and the latter…If we’ve missed something like that none of us would survive anyway.”
“Aye.”
“I have every confidence in Whitecrest’s security, Lads. Now let’s change into that fatigue uniform. As much as it pains me to so blatantly strut and peacock you Lads about…well. There is a reason such things are military tradition.”
The Lads nodded agreeably, reached for their duffels, and squeezed into their tan shirts. Genshi watched in fascination as they quickly stripped off their shorts and donned undergarments about their hips and on their feet.
“Why the clothing on your feet?”
“Socks?” Burgess chuckled as he tugged his on. “It’s ‘cuz we sweat and boots don’t breathe. Ain’t nobody like smelly boots! Also helps with the rubbing. Blisters suck.” A round of nodding from the Lads. In short order they had donned their fatigue trousers and were lacing up their boots. The three big ones groused about the footwear, Firth the loudest.
“I used to love wearin’ boots but now I can’t fuckin’ stand it. They’re always too tight no matter who custom-makes ‘em and no matter how new they are or how recently I’ve re-measured my feet. Goddamned Crude, heh.”
“It ain’t easy being huge,” with another grin from Arés. He stood up and bounced about in his boots a bit uncomfortably. Even brand new, he knew he’d ruin them by the end of the day. The Trio considered regular boots almost like disposable items; none they’d found would last long under the stress. In fact, by then the only comfortable footwear they had was what they wore in their EV-MASS, and that was true to some degree of all the Lads.
Powell and Murray were the only members of HEAT who managed to mostly escape that particular fate, which Adam was maybe a little bit envious about. Small blessings. in either case, the Lads were soon properly dressed and took a good look at each other. The admiral was right, they did look scarier in camo trousers and a plain matching t-shirt. Weird.
Firth looked the scariest. Being easily the leanest of the operators and proportioned like a comic book superhero, the shirt more or less clung to his form like a second skin. “I reckon you’re the ‘good cop,’ sir?” He said it with his usual respectful bluntness.
“Indeed.”
“Well…here’s hopin’ we ain’t gotta be ‘bad cop,’ then.”