“The data?”

 

The small black box, no bigger than a business card, slid across the polished glass top effortlessly. A pair of rough and calloused, but immaculately well-groomed and manicured, hands caught it, popping the lid to reveal the memory card within. A wolf standing nearby presented a laptop to his employer, a boar dressed in such an elaborate uniform that the horse had to struggle to keep his courteous smile from turning into discourteous amusement.

 

It was, after all, a show of military rank and power. The stock navy blue Federal Command uniform was decked out in no less than a dozen of military service pins and medals that glistened more brightly than the glare coming through the windows from neighbouring skyscrapers. Beyond that, probably another dozen honorary ribbons from a handful of off world colonies that he recognised and another handful that remained more alien to him without any form of unwanted scrutiny. It was clear that the battlefield, rather than the plush office they were in now, was where the boar had spent most of his military career.

 

The card slot on the side of the laptop clicked audibly, ensuring the small, plastic object was now firmly secured. Hollud knew there would be no problems with the data, even though this was a duplicate of the original memory card, which was now a tangled mess of plastic and metal. How it ended up crushed and wrecked was a detail that he decided to leave out, but he had at least made sure that the memory card looked like the original.  It would save quite a bit of effort and time not trying to talk about details.

 

With a discrete beep of acknowledgement, the computer reported the successful verification of the data and on cue, his employer rose from his plush seat, extending a handshake of appreciation.

 

“My sincerest gratitude,” came the gruff voice from the equally gruff-looking exterior. It was a commanding voice, and it reinforced the concept of a war-ready battlefield commander. “I’m pleased that everything went according to plan.”

 

Hollud rose from his chair, straightening out his leather vest as stiffly as he could. He was, in all aspects, relatively underdressed. Underneath the leather vest was bare pelt, and the jeans and cowboy-style chaps did little to help portray the image of his professionalism. If anything, the horse looked as though he had been plucked straight out of the local rodeo. It was comfortable though, and it matched his typically casual image.

 

“As am I,” he replied, hand gripping his employer’s in matching firmness. “Everything couldn’t have gone better.”

 

With that handshake, the deal was done and the weeks of secrecy and espionage was now over. Provided there were no strings attached to the contract, the freelancer horse was confident that a proper holiday could now be put into effect. Their last vacation, as Saviour, his ship’s A.I., quietly pointed out through his neural link, did not turn out so well when the political powers went through a rather violent revolt, turning a holiday paradise into a war zone. It also happened to be where they were employed to evacuate the deposed president off world, which meant their holiday was, effectively rendered, invalid. Coupled with their most recent assignment, their time to relax was probably well overdue.

 

According to the weather patterns that had been programmed into the artificial climate of this once inhospitable planet, a trip to the beach would be greeted with typical blue skies and clear waters of New Luna Bay. A gentle sea breeze would complement a sunset dinner along the many restaurants scattered along the coast. His crew had also quietly added a trip out to the countryside into their planned itinerary, where beyond the reach of city lights, one would be rewarded with stars as far as the eye can see. Perfect, then, for a holiday.

 

“If there’s nothing else.” Hollud gently pushed his chair backwards, indicating to his feline escort of his departure. “I should be going. Thank you for your hospitality.”

 

“Of course,” acknowledged the boar before gesturing towards the tiger standing quietly behind him. “Captain Gray will escort you out.”

 

With a bow of courtesy as a social formality, Hollud quickly made headway towards the door with the tiger, who was noticeably more simply dressed then his superior. In the time it had taken them to stride down the carpeted path to the lobby and to call for the elevator, the horse had quietly dispatched a short message back to the Salvation reporting of their success.

 

“Is he always so stiff?”

 

The tiger shot him a look of amusement, reinforcing the fact that he was right.

 

“Admiral Endekes is a war veteran,” elaborated the feline. “His heart belongs out in the field, but until the succession plans have been finalised, his duties require him to be here.”

 

“A suitable successor...” Hollud could already tell who it was going to be, but could hardly resist the opportunity to hear it straight from the tiger’s mouth. “Like you?”

 

Gray laughed as he gestured at the elevator call button, which warbled in acknowledgment.

 

“Yes, I am being trained by the Admiral to manage the Office of Affairs. There are still quite a few things I have yet to learn, but the Admiral believes that I am about ready. The change-of-command ceremony will be taking place next month.”

 

“Congratulations.”

 

“Thank you.” The smile that radiated from the tiger was undeniable pride. “I also don’t want to inconvenience the Admiral from returning to the Outpost. It’s like his home away from home.”

 

The quiet chirp from the tiger’s communicator paused their conversation. A second later, the tiger mouthed an apology as he gestured towards the device. It was probably family, partly because Saviour had flagged the call as private and partly because the tiger greeted the caller with a very enthusiastic ‘Hi Dad!’. It was his job to stay in the know, which is why he already managed to snoop around inside the internal network, detecting for any unusual trace of suspicious activity

 

Not that he had anything to worry about, since this latest job assignment was relatively low on the risk scale. Sure, he had to do a fair bit of shooting, and probably some satellite had to be blown up, but it was a comparatively simple job. This one didn’t have any assassins after his head or gangs planting bombs under his car, which made mission cleanup so much more easier.

 

A tone of disagreement was now coming from Gray’s communicator, which the tiger now poked at with a confused look on his muzzle. A discrete check with Saviour revealed that the warning tones was indicating a lack of a signal from any of the hundreds of communication towers that swamped the city. It was then that Saviour noted that every network tower within a ten block radius was not functional.

 

“That’s odd. There’s no net-”

 

A huge fireball tore through the room, acrid smoke blinding the light from the still sunny sky outside. The force of the explosion sent debris rocketing in all directions, making the smallest piece just as deadly as the largest one. Where floor-to-ceiling windows once stood, the openings now blended the interior with the exterior in a mix of twisted metal. Shards of glass rained down to the sidewalk with only the building’s automatic debris containment system protecting innocent bystanders from being shredded with shrapnel.

 

Alarms rang almost immediately as the shockwave triggered every alarm pre-programmed into the building’s security system. Water showered down from the sprinklers well before the smoke had cleared, their delicate temperature-sensitive glass mechanisms in a shattered mess. Without the windows, there was nothing to stop the high winds of New Luna from quickly sweeping the smoke out where the rest of the city would play witness.

 

Hollud glanced over his shoulder to watch the scenes of destruction played out before him like something straight out of the screen of a blockbuster thriller. The only difference was that this was hardly a movie screen and the action was as real as it could be. Pieces of debris flew straight at them before deflecting carelessly off into another direction.

 

Crouched under him was his feline charge, his eyes clenched tight shut. One arm pushed him down towards the ground, whilst the other remained outstretched, holding up a dome of azure light around them. His forearm glowed as it kept up the shield that protected them from flying bits of concrete and steel. The stallion gave a frown of disdain, knowing that he would have to shelve his holiday plans again.

 

He felt movement under his arm, and heard a small gasp from the tiger. This would complicate things; he did not like to explain, especially when it came to this. The bright glow that surrounded them in a neat dome distorted the world in waves and shimmers, until the horse lowered his arm and the smouldering ruin of the Office of Affairs snapped back into reality.

 

“What…”

 

“A bomb,” Hollud replied before Gray could finish. “Probably explosives mounted outs-…”

 

“No. That thing… that light…”

 

Hollud stood up, offering a hand to the still crouched feline. Where they had stood their ground remained unscathed by the explosion. The carpet beneath their feet was still intact, but everything else around them lay singed and smouldering. It was not until Gray got back up that he noticed the huge steel beam within arm’s reach.

 

“You did that?” Gray questioned anxiously. “How did you…”

 

A cry of pain from across strewn rubble gave the horse a reason to break their conversation. The pair leapt over twisted metal and rubble, occasionally glancing out past the flickering blue containment shields designed to contain debris during an explosion. Whatever had gone off had done its job; the shields were barely operational as they  were, damaged by the immense shockwave that ripped the place apart.

 

They were relieved to find that Admiral Endekes and his assistant were alive as well. However, panic was written all over the canine assistant’s muzzle as he struggled to support the weight of his clearly injured superior. The horse quickly slipped his shoulder under the free arm, sharing the burden that had weighed down the canine.

 

“My ankle!”

 

A single glance down to the affected area and the diagnosis could be made. The hoof of the boar displayed an unnatural angle, accompanied by a steady swelling made visible with each passing minute. It was also lifted tenderly off the ground, the pain making the portly official fearful of placing any stress on it.

 

A chair that had survived the blast was offered, the boar giving a relieved sign amidst a look of agony. The horse knelt down, muttering an apology before gently pressing against the swelling flesh. An expletive burst down as an unintelligible grunt, following by the strained sounds of discomfort as Hollud tested the range of motion.

 

“Twisted,” murmured the horse, “maybe broken. We’ll need a splint.”

 

“There’s a first-aid station by the lift,” said the canine assistant, the fear in his voice overridden with the need to serve a superior. “It should have everything.”

 

“Go.” Hollud watched as the wolf dashed off, scrambling over debris in his desperation. Turning to the tiger, the horse gave a tilt of his head. “Go help him.”

 

There was a brief moment of hesitation, but the tiger soon turned tail and made quick progress after the wolf. As they made headway through the field of debris, the stallion turned his attention back to the injury.

 

“Do you think you can…”

 

“I’m surprised I didn’t recognise you before,” the boar gave a weak laugh, interrupting the horse in mid-sentence.

 

Puzzled, Hollud looked up, eyes scanning a foreign muzzle. Even the facial recognition algorithms that Saviour would automatically run failed to pick up anything other than Federal Command database records. When nothing substantial came up, the horse instantly switched gears and started to include the possibility of criminal investigations associated with jobs he had performed in the past. It then occurred to him that he had not replied for too long.

 

“General, I don’t believe we’ve ever me-…”

 

The boar smiled.

 

“Your hand, freelancer.”

 

Looking down, Hollud’s heart skipped a beat as he glanced down to the back of his hand. There, glowing bright neon blue, was the intricate magical rune that shone whenever he used his magical abilities. Just like the barrel of a gun, it would glow should his magical talents be put through their paces. Normally, it would have faded away moments after a spell had been cast, which left the horse perplexed why it was still there.

 

The horse did not like to make his abilities known, and made a conscious effort to keep it concealed. Many casters had abused their powers, and it left a bitter aftertaste for the non-magical community. Older, more traditional mindsets branded the magic wielders as witches and wizards, more often labelling them as a curse and a plague. The modern way of thinking accepted those with magic talent, only to feature them as freaks of nature and use them for profit and gain. Magic was an anomaly to many, and it was a hard pill to swallow.

 

“I can explain.”

 

The boar held up his own hand, glowing red and sparkling with the same magical energy he had grown up with.

 

“The Royal Crest!” The stallion gave a quiet exclamation, studying the unique design that he had only seen in the classroom of Magic 101 in University. Runes like these were a symbol of identity and rank, and more often than not, contained information of the bearer.

 

“Ursine Field Marshall Tomo Endekes, at your service,” came the enthusiastic greeting with the distinct thud of a fist to his heavy chest. “I almost failed to pick up on your energies, young Prince, if not for your barrier.”

 

“Prince?” Hollud stared back, a look of bewilderment as the words sunk in.

 

“You are royalty, freelancer.”

 

“The only royalty I know is the King and Queen of New England, Field Marshall.”

 

“You speak like royalty too.”

 

“I’m polite,” retorted the horse.

 

“And you look just like your father.”

 

Hollud’s ears suddenly perked as he snapped to attention.

 

“W… What did you say?”

 

“Your father?” Endekes sounded surprised, sitting a little more upright as he glanced down at the horse. “You look just like him.”

 

The stupefied look on the horse’s muzzle said enough for the boar to realise the implications of his words.

 

“You don’t remember, do you?” The boar already knew the answer to the question he posed. The horse did not reply, but his body posture turned rigid and defensive. It was, to the boar, a silent confirmation. His brow furrowed, working out the most appropriate answer he could think of. “It was for your own protection.”

 

“For what?” spat out the horse, his tone bitter and harsh. “To make me forget how my parents died? Do you think I want to chase after ghosts?”

 

“I didn’t…”

 

“Didn’t what?” The horse shot an accusing stare, the back of his hand now glowing an angry red. “Didn’t want to hurt me? Didn’t want me to know the truth? Didn’t think that I deserve to know what happened?”

 

“I didn’t know about your lost memories.”

 

Hollud scowled at his blind rage as he rose, turning to face the open sky. The colour of the rune echoed the equine’s emotions, simmering from its striking red down to a rich purple before easing back into an icy blue. He knew how easily he succumbed to the effects of emotional distress, especially if it struck a nerve as raw as this.

 

For years, he had been trying to find what little he could piece of his past and his childhood, but with little success. The only solid pieces of evidence he had to work with were the dreams that plagued him night after night. Countless hours were spent watching the degraded videos of his recorded dreams as he tried to extract what little information he could glean from these visions. However, whatever leads he had often led to a dead end.

 

Now, here before him was a complete stranger that claimed to know his father? It was a fact that he could hardly verify, let alone believe in the state of confusion that he already was in. With ears pressed to the back of his head in a silent show of annoyance, the horse forced himself to take a deep breath. Turning back, he kept his expression stoic, a complete reversal of his earlier outburst.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be,” Endekes reassured with a smile so warm, it made the regret sink in even deeper. “Given the circumstances, I would’ve reacted the same way.”

 

The boar struggled to rise to his hooves, feeling confident now that his own healing magic had plenty of time to work. The horse instinctively reached forward to support him, but instead found the General gripping his shoulders tightly, like how he would have greeted an old friend. The smile on the boar’s muzzle was that of a father’s, as was the touch of the paw that cupped his cheek. It caught Hollud by surprise, but this entire day was already full of it.

 

“Child, I have so much to share with you; so much to tell you. If only I had known…”

 

“General!”

 

Hollud whipped his head around just as wolf and tiger bounded over the rubble to where they had left the pair. Gray carried the first-aid kit while the wolf brought over pieces of material that the horse believed would make a suitable split. However, both stopped in their tracks when they realised that their efforts were in vain. The looks on both muzzles grew even more surprised when they noticed the glowing rune on the back of Hollud’s hand.

 

“G… General,” Gray stammered as he nervously pointed out the obvious. “It’s…”

 

“Break cover, both of you. It’s alright.”

 

Their expressions changed instantly, and the air around them suddenly charged with authority. Despite that, they could not take their eyes off the intricate design glowing magically through the stallion’s pelt. It worried the horse that it might have offended them, but worry gave way to further confusion as both bowed slightly, placing their right paws over their left breast in a royal greeting.

 

“My apologies, your highness,” Gray began, gaze averted to the floor instead of meeting the stallion’s own. “We didn’t know…”

 

“And he doesn’t either,” Endekes chimed in. “Apparently, that has preserved his identity.”

 

“After so long?” the wolf gasped. “Surely the Gods must be watching over him.”

 

“Or they implemented one hell of a memory wipe,” Gray contributed, before coming to a stark realisation. “Field Marshall, has he been compromised?”

 

Endekes reflected on that thought as he was met with the horse’s blank expression. This was clearly above and beyond his rank, although there was little he could work with. His brow furrowed as he struggled with the best of his magical abilities to find a distinct signature left behind when such a feat was executed. However, he found nothing, evidence of either just how powerful a being he was dealing with, or just how degraded the magical imprint had become. The latter would explain how he was starting to remember about his parents, given that he had not mentioned their passing.

 

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I couldn’t even sense him even when shaking his hand.”

 

“The data?” offered the wolf. Endekes shook his head.

 

“Just an old memory card we needed to get back. The information is near its declassification date.”

 

“If it’s not the data...” One glance at Endekes’ face and the tiger’s words began to trail off.

 

“Think about it.” The crease on the boar’s muzzle grew deeper, further accentuating the already wrinkled skin into a look of genuine concern. “When will you ever have four individuals from four different separate clans all with significant abilities gathered in one place?”

 

Silence fell as the truth struck out, the city below howling a mournful tune of realisation. With the facts laid out before them, everything began to fall into place. It was an outright trap; the evidence that lay before them was too blatant to ignore.

 

“Would you agree then, your Highness?” The boar’s formal address made the horse cringe with distaste in reflex, but it was a minor annoyance compared to the growing gravity of their situation. “Given your experience, this meeting was nothing more than an opportunity to eliminate us all?”

 

Hollud already had that notion floating in his head, and it seemed only to reaffirm itself with a second opinion. The timing was too perfect and the planning too detailed to warrant a simple act of terrorism. Even the explosive charges had been shaped to direct as much force inwards, evident by the amount of twisted metal bent into the building. There was enough explosives to level an entire floor filled with reinforced materials designed to mitigate such an attack.

 

It was a blatant trap.

 

“Whatever it is, it’s going to have to wait.” Hollud knew he had to shift priorities if they were going to up their chance of survival. Being stationary for too long in an open environment meant they were sitting ducks right out in the open. “Whoever did this might do it again.”

 

“Fabian, take point.” Endekes turned to address his aide with a tone only a seasoned veteran of the battlefield could muster. “Check the weapon lockers on your way down.”

 

The horse watched as a flare of white light enveloped the wolf’s forearms before he dashed off back to where the elevator lobby was. He could barely discern the crest that lit up before he disappeared out of view. Endekes’ arms lit up in a fiery red whilst Gray’s ignited in a rich yellow. He glanced at his own forearms, which remained devoid of any show of power compared to the others’ magical energies.

 

The horse sighed, clenching and unclenching his fists to relieve some of the stress that was starting to build up. It was situations like these that he would feel most comfortable with grenades at his hip and guns in his hands rather than the words and magic spells of complete strangers who knew more about him than he did. It made him itch and tingle with frustration, hands gripping imaginary pistols by his side with his fingers resting on invisible triggers.

 

He slapped himself mentally for leaving his beloved pistols back in the car, which was parked some twenty-odd stories beneath his hooves. Even if he could will them to his side, he wasn’t sure if pistols would be the appropriate weapon or if the combat rifle in the trunk would make a better choice. The shotgun in the back seat might pack more of a punch in the tight spaces of urban combat. Then again, he could always rely on his crew to back him up.

 

His crew! Hollud slapped himself on the other cheek as he silently commanded Saviour to seek out any open frequency to send out a distress call. His neural link threw up a host of errors, reminding him that the communication towers had been disabled before the explosion. Saviour then indicated that the building’s wireless network access points were still active, although the network was being overwhelmed by emergency data transfer protocols to shift sensitive data on all active terminals to an off site location.

 

Off site, Hollud pondered, before slipping in a packet of data into the stream of information. If his hunches were correct, that emergency link would connect to the greater Federal Command network, and that would provide some sort of connectivity beyond the range of the communications blackout. He knew Saviour’s mainframe back on the ship would be busy filtering bits and bytes of every electronic government chatter. All he had to do was wait for it to picked up.

 

Stumbling through the wreckage, the trio reached the emergency stairwell and began to descend countless flights of stairs. The building schematics had already been downloaded onto his neural link, and while it showed that this flight of stairs did not evacuate them immediately to the ground level, the escape route was designed to criss-cross with multiple routes, allowing for redundant evacuation routes if another was cut off. It was tedious, but it was standard design of any modern building built to house high ranking officials.

 

“Field Marshall.”

 

It was the tone in the wolf’s voice that stopped them in their tracks. He held the door on the landing of the seventeenth storey open, a visible look of worry that hastened their steps until they rounded the corner.

 

“I smelt blood,” the canine explained before gesturing to the scene in front of him. “Then I found this.”

 

With help from the schematics, Hollud knew this led to the officers’ small arms depository. However, on first glance, it seemed more like a snapshot of a grisly crime scene. The ballistics glass window that covered the main counter was splattered with blood from the inside. Even more disturbing was the amount of blood that pooled underneath the solid metal door leading into the depository. Despite the blood, everything else seemed normal; the lights were on, red warning strobes were strobing away and there was no clutter or mess in the hallways.

 

By the time Fabian and Gray returned from checking the rest of the corridor and the adjoining offices, Endekes had already managed to bypass the emergency lockdown code on the depository’s locks and opened the door to an even more gut-wrenching sight. There, lying just inches from the depository door, a pair of distinctly canine bodies muzzle-down on the blood-soaked floor. Their normally blue uniforms stained an unnatural maroon, bodies twisted and contorted in visible agony.

 

“Stay back,” Endekes cautioned his two charges just as they were about to lean in. “It reeks of dark magic.”

 

Their muzzles contorted in disgust and they began to retreat from the doorway. Hollud, seemingly unafraid, remained crouched by the cooling pool of blood. He sighed, his gaze rested on the cramped outstretched arms, fingers locked in rigor mortis reaching for the exit. On one of the paws was a gold wedding band wrapped around one of the digits, and instantly the horse felt a pang of sorrow.

 

“Innocent lives,” he whispered softly, “taken so tragically.”

 

“More importantly,” snorted Endekes, his arm surging with renewed energy, “it means that we are no longer alone.”

 

From the corner of his eye, Hollud saw the increased glow from both the wolf and the tiger and felt the increase in tension that came with the heightened awareness. He assumed they probably adopting some sort of formation honed from countless hours of training in military boot camp. He saw no need to be concerned just yet; their reaction was based on theories, but he had years of his freelancing experience. If the enemy wanted to strike, they would have already done so and not waited until they had picked up on its trail.

 

The horse reached out with an upturned palm, gesturing towards the outstretched corpse’s paw. A series of sickening crunches began to rang out as bones snapped back into joints and dead muscle tissue broke free of the stiffness of death. By the time he was done, both bodies were still devoid of life, but visibly less tortured and displayed a far more natural passing than they had discovered them.

 

Hollud closed his fingers into fist, which then glowed briefly before the light faded away. He felt the solid metal object in the centre of his palm, a new objective that he knew would fulfil before the day was over. Providing some form of closure was the least he could do; it wasn’t his job, but someone had to do it. Better him than some faceless official breaking the news with a faked look of disappointment.

 

A hand rested heavily on his shoulder as he stood, turning to see that it belonged to Endekes. With a nod of affirmation from the boar, the horse tucked away the object safe inside his vest.

 

“The spirit of your father lives on within you,” Endekes commented with a tone of pride that only another father could relate to. “You follow in his footsteps.”

 

Hollud dumbly nodded, glancing back at the dead bodies. It did answer the question of why he felt so strongly empathetic to the dead, and not just because of some morbid fantasy with their history. His father used to do it, and now it was his turn. Perhaps he was more like his father than he thought he would be. However, that still left so many more questions hanging in the air that needed answering. As the group began to move further down the evacuation route, the horse decided that now was as good a time as any to start filling in the blanks.

 

“Tell me more.”