"Shadow Dance"

[Kansas_Jones 0]

06.29.07

UES Challenger

“Shadow Dance”

Shaow JoNs adjusted the zoom setting on her binoculars, and then looked out into the distance where the previous skirmishes had been taking place. Occasionally, she would catch a glimpse of an airborne Lycrian, but none of the warriors stayed in one place for very long. They were stealthy, and fast, flying from perch to perch, seeking cover where they could find it.

 

The diplomatic talks between the Lycrian Royals and the Lycrian Tribe had stalled a bit, mainly due to the outside skirmish; the ballistics had come a bit to close for comfort to the designated meeting place. The diplomatic personnel had relocated to an underground bunker, following a thorough recon of the new area by MACO Second Lieutenant Kimiko “Mynx” Johnson. And, for now, tribe representative LyKarno and Royal representative Rixton had made good on their collective word of calling off the nearby fighting.

 

Now, why didn’t they issue that order before the Challenger arrived and the diplomatic talks started? Hmph. Avian life forms - can’t live with them, can’t pounce them, can’t kill them.

 

The blonde furred (curse you, Shrooms of the Color Change) Caitian still did not feel comfortable with this situation, not at all. She turned to the naval ensign hovering at her elbow. “Carrington, I want you to maintain a watch here as a point guard. Maintain contact – every twenty minutes – and if ether of those Lycrian sides, I don’t care who, so much as burp the wrong way, yell.”

 

“As loud as I can sir, and I can holler pretty loud.” The red haired, Caucasian skinned woman offered her feline chief a brilliant smile.

 

A fanged smile mirrored the grin. “Good. If you have any problems, don’t hesitate to contact Lieutenant Mynx. I’m going to do a quick recon of the general area, make sure we have no uninvited guests…”

 

The Caitian adjusted her re-breather mask over her muzzle and then made a run at the perimeter of the area, employing her powerful, cat shaped hind legs to leap off the edge as the hover pack strapped to her back engaged.

 

JoNs found herself in nothingness, the tortured volcanic and methane surface of the world far below her, and surrounded by the hovering habitats that the Lycrians employed as home. In the distance, she could make out the cliffs and mountain terrains which also doubled as homes for the avian people. She did a perimeter run around the floating habitat, trying to align her thoughts into a coherent tactical pattern.

 

The crew found themselves in the middle of a war zone. These skirmished between the Royals and the Tribe based peoples had been going on for well over sixty years, and now the Challenger crew was in the middle as an arbitrator. And don’t even get her started on the ‘neutral ground’ thing. Neutral was getting the two winged rear ends of the representatives on the ship, not dragging the crew onto their planetary turf. But it was not her command, and so Shaow silently stewed over her perception to the breach of protocol and safety, and followed orders.

 

The airborne junior lieutenant was distracted by a bird, with an identical wing configuration to the Lycrians, alighting on a steel walkway railing. She pointed a claw at the little black, white and pink bird. “You are so lucky that I am many generations removed from my pouncing feline forebears…”The little avian blinked once and then flew away. Shaow smiled and visually followed the Lycrian creature’s flight path until the bird was out of sight.

 

Satisfied with the lower airspace, the felinoid adjusted her jet pack and boosted herself to a higher point above the floating structure.

 

Cait had a tribal history, and in her opinion, LyKarno and his people bore watching due to their tribal allegiance.

 

Tribal warfare called for hard and fast attacks, usually mirroring guerilla insurgent style tactics. Shaow had no doubt that the Royals gave back every bit as good as they got, but when you had trained soldiers and royal guards to do your fighting for you, you tended to adopt the strategic commander attitude. Tribal thinking was usually single minded, highly focused on the target of the moment, and incurred deadly results.

 

Twenty minutes had passed, and JoNs began to head back to her take off point.

 

This Lycrian mission was going to be a shadow dance all the way – what was the truth, and who was the true enemy here - if any? And how deep was the Challenger crew willing to go to find the truth?