Anubis was in a large bunker, waiting with a few other legionnaires.  He himself looked like just about every other jackalhound; dark brown fur, head and ears of the jackal, fit physical frame and a cunning mind.  Of his armor, he wore only the body glove and ceramic vest and shoes, just as the other legionnaires accompanying him.  He didn’t know the reason yet, but someone had asked for his appearance, along with these other legionnaires.  To his left here was another jackalhound, the same that had fought alongside Anubis at the abandoned prison a day before.  Anubis knew him well and the two of them had fought through several campaigns together.  There were two bullhounds as well, each talking with the other about something.  He didn’t care what though and saw no need to concern himself with it.  

There was a massive Minotaur man to his right, towering at least seven feet tall.  He had no hair and his face had a number of scars on it and one of his horns was now a carbon replacement.  Next to the Minotaur was a strong woman, if she could be called that.  Her eyes were large and compound, like that of an insect.  She also had a pair of antenna, sprouting from her forehead.  Her legs were also longer than the rest of her body.  Most distinctly though, she had a pair of insect wings, emerging from her shoulder blades, through a pair of small holes cut in the back of her ceramic vest.  


Anubis had only seen one woman like her before and that was years ago, but he knew she was a war wasp.  Judging from her chestnut hair and the shape of her dark, compound eyes, he guessed she was more like the parasitic wasps that injected their eggs into a living host to feed and grow.  Part of him prayed he’d never witness her actually do it.  She didn’t blink but looked toward the ceiling’s fluorescent lights and put her hands on her hips as she did so.

“Do you know what’s going on?” the other jackalhound asked.

“No Leif,” Anubis answered.  “All I know is that we were asked here.”

“Recognize anyone?”

He shook his head.  They all heard a door open at the other side of the room.  Each of the legionnaires looked over and saw a man enter the room.  He had the face of a lion, complete with the mane, but ears and snout like a wolf.  There was a ferocious look in his eyes and he had a tail of a scorpion.  Anubis found this odd because no other person in the room had a tail.  The man was in full armor and carried his helmet in one paw-like hand.  He had seen these soldiers before.  He was a hellhound; a manticore and wolf hybrid with a furious temper.  He’d heard of such soldiers and how they were as dangerous to the legionnaires as they were to The Empire’s enemies.  On his left shoulder was a pale green ‘A’ with a five under it.  The lower halves of his shoulder pads were silver, immediately identifying him as a primus; a commander of one of the legion’s ten centuries.  The man looked over each of the legionnaires and paced up and down the row for about half a minute before speaking.


“I am Primus Cassius,” the hellhound said.  “You all came here of your free will.”  He looked over each soldier again, stopping in the middle of the six soldiers; on Anubis.  “If I was in charge of this legion, none of you would be here!  But…”  He looked up and down the line.  “The Supreme Lord Arbiter believes otherwise, as does The Emperor.  As of right now, you no longer serve your legion.”

All the legionnaires looked quite surprised, save for one of the bullhounds.

“W-what’d we do wrong?” the other bullhound asked.

“It is my job now, to shape your sorry asses into SOMETHING that resembles The Emperor’s Finest!  You had it easy in your legions!  Sit!  Eat!  Shit!  March here!  Charge there!  Shoot this!  Kill that!”  He looked to Anubis’s left and began to walk toward the war wasp.  She looked very concern.  “And you better control yourself.  In your hive, you could implant any sorry bastard.  When your monthly visitor comes, you sure as hell better not stick any of those eggs into my boys!”

Her mouth was open and in surprise.  Anubis could see her lower lip shaking a little.

“You gonna cry?” the hellhound asked.  “Oh, that’s right.  You don’t have any tear-ducts!”  The eyes and nostrils of the hellhound flared.  “WELL SUCK IT UP BITCH!”  The primus walked toward him again, but passed him.  The primus stopped on the one bullhound that didn’t seem surprised.  “You findin’ somethin’ funny, maggot?”

“No sir!” the legionnaire replied.

“Then why the fuck are you smilin’ like a cheesier cat?”

“Sir…” he began.

“BULLSHIT LEGIONNAIRE!  You’re a devil-dog!  Not some sorry pussy!  Start actin’ like it!”  He looked down the row again and walked toward Anubis.


The primus stopped on him.  He stood with his hands behind his back and glared at the jackalhound.  “You gonna say something jackal?” he asked.

Anubis was silent.

“You aren’t deaf centurion.  IF YOU’RE GONNA SAY SOMETHING YOU’D BETTER SPEAK UP JACKAL!”

Again, Anubis remained silent.

“SPEAK DOG!  SPEAK!” the primus shouted.  “The legions don’t take mutes, jackal.  Or did some inferior monkey devoice you like the pathetic animal you are?”  He stepped back and looked at all the legionnaires.  “You will each be given a copy of The Griffin’s Tome, protect with your life; if you or a citizen damages your tome, you will spend one month on latrine duty.  If a fellow legionnaire, damages your tome, you and that legionnaire will be hung naked by your ankles for seventy-two hours in the wasteland.  If you LOSE OR DESTROY your tome, your century will be decimated and your life will be forfeit!”  The door each of the legionnaires had entered through opened.  Another hellhound walked in, closing it behind him.  Unlike the primus, he was wearing his helmet and it hid his entire face.  There was a speaker of sorts on the snout of the mask.  He also carried two large shock axes on his back and a pair of fifty-caliber magnums on his belt.  “Centurion Uggah will take you each to your individual cohort barracks.”

The hellhound raised his right hand and motioned to the primus.  “Yes sir!”  Each of the legionnaires looked at the centurion hellhound.

“One last thing maggots,” the primus said.  The legionnaires looked back at him.  Anubis clenched his fists, angered at the behavior of this legionnaire who was of a much higher rank than him.  The primus folded his arms.  “Welcome to The Alpha Legion.”


“C’mon people!” the hellhound centurion shouted.  “Keep up!”  The group walked down a hall, carved out of the rock of the mountain.  Simple lights lined the hall as they came to another door.  “You won’t be here long.  The Supreme Arbiter is mobilizing the legion.  There’s trouble in the Massachusetts Province.”

“More than usual?” one of the two bullhounds asked.

“Much more than usual.”  The hellhound opened the door and they walked out of the cave into a large courtyard of sorts.  There were several other legionnaires there.  The snow was coming down, cumulating into the numerous drifts already on the ground.  All the legionnaires were putting their equipment into large packs.  Anubis watched a bullhound attach a hammer onto his belt and kick his pack onto its back.  He got on his knees and leaned back.  The pack clicked into his armor and he stood back up.  They continued along, seeing a majority of the legion was made up of bullhounds.  They passed a pair of legionnaires, each carrying a scutum and gladius and talking.  Their faces were like that of bulldogs, but had something about them that made them more than just animals.  They were talking about recent events and what might prompt their legion to move out.  Numerous large and dome-shaped tents were set up all over the courtyard.  They came to one of the tents and the hellhound pulled a notepad from his belt.


“Okay,” he said.  “Legionnaire Morgan.”

“Aye,” the Minotaur said, raising a hand that could snap a man’s spine.

“You’re in the Seventh Century; cohort Bravo-Four.  Your commander is Centurion Well’Vrye; pronounced well-vr-ay.”  The hellhound motioned to the tent behind him.  The Minotaur pulled the flaps, which were its doors, open and walked in.  A second later, the hellhound continued, followed by the five other soldiers.  They came to a second tent.  “Legionnaire Qlikc.”

“That’s Quill-ick,” the other jackalhound said.

“Quillik.  You’re in the Ninth Century; cohort Delta-Seven.  Your commander is Centurion Tate.”  Again, the hellhound motioned to the tent and the jackalhound entered it.  They walked a little further, to the tent right next to it.  “Centurion Ulrik.”

“Sir!” one of the bullhounds replied.

“Tenth Century; cohort Delta-Six.  You are this cohort’s new centurion.  Congratulations.”

“Thank you sir!”

The hellhound motioned to the tent.  “Go.”


They continued along, going through the encampment.  Anubis watched a pair of half-tracks rolled past them.  On the back of each was a turret with four large caliber machine guns.  One more sped past them, carrying two huge mana-guns, the pods, in place of barrels, clamped shut.  They came to another tent.  The hellhound flipped his notepad further and looked through it.  “Okay,” he said.  “Legionnaire Ralik, Legionnaire… Fate, Centurion Fangblood.”  The hellhound looked up at the three remaining soldiers.  “I don’t know why the hell you’re all bulked together like this but, You are all in the First Century; Cohort Echo-Two.  Fangblood is your Centurion.”

Both the war wasp and bullhound looked at Anubis.  “Wait,” the bullhound began.  “What’s up with this?  Last time I transferred the centurion was of the legion.”

“Take that up with your Century Commander, Legionnaire.”

“Who might that be?”

“Lord Arbiter Vradeus Gaump.”

The bullhound swallowed hard.  “Are you sure?”

“Quite Legionnaire.  I’d protect that tome you’re gonna get.  If someone in the First Century loses theirs, the entire legion will be decimated!  It’s happened before.”

Anubis looked at the tent flaps.  He’d been in command before, but never of an Echo cohort.  Such cohorts were truly unique as they blended the three types of legionnaire; assault, support and magi, all into an independent fighting unit.  He finally walked into the tent, followed by the other two.


There were three other legionnaires in the tent.  A bullhound looked up from his pack.  His right eye had been replaced with a large mechanical device of sorts.  It covered quite a bit of his face as well.  A red lens gleamed from the device.  A pair of wires dug into his flesh, most likely linking into his brain.  There was a seteshan and another bullhound talking.  They each looked over as Anubis entered.

“Who’re you?” the scared bullhound asked.

“Your new Centurion, Legionnaire,” Anubis replied.  “Who are you?”

“Legionnaire Brutus Rullk.”

“What do you do?”

“Terror assault, sir.”

“You should see this guy in a fight!” the other bullhound said.  “He’ll scare the crap outta anyone!”

“And what about you Legionnaire?” Anubis asked.

“Legionnaire Marius Were.”

“Where?”

“Were, like a were-creature.”  He folded his arms.  “I’m support and demolition.”

Aunbis nodded and looked over at the seteshan.  “You,” he said, pointing a finger at him.

“Battle mage Angus, Centurion,” he replied, scratching his ant-eater nose with a clawed finger.

“Ain’t you workin’ on becomin’ a War Consul?” the legionnaire Marius asked.

“Yeah,” he said.  “Still have to consult the tribunal on it though.  They won’t let just anyone take the tests.”

“Very good to hear,” Anubis said.  “We need more skilled sorcerers.”

“So, Centurion,” Marius asked.  “What are our orders?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Echo looked up at the night sky.  It had been a long day and she was tired, but she knew if she stopped, the PDFs would be all over her.  She was a long way from Hell’s Kitchen now.  She’d never been to this part of Manhattan before.  It was a junkyard of mostly ruined skyscrapers, while there were some ramshackle buildings; she saw several large, newer structures and knew full well this end was mostly populated by the hybrids.  She spotted an orc, talking with two PDFs, but the orc was soon getting a beating.


Knowing she probably couldn’t get into any more trouble than she already was in, Echo pulled the gun Jimmy had given her from a pocket and got closer.  She glanced at it.  The weapon was a simple six-shooter, from ages ago.  It was a little rusted, but seemed to work, considering she’d seen him use it before.  She leveled it with a PDF and fired.

The bullet tore into him and he collapsed.  There was no loud whooping.  Echo could only guess he was still alive.  The other PDF officer turned.  He was in full SWAT gear, looking vaguely like an Imperial Legionnaire.  He had an assault rifle in his hands and leveled it with her.  

Echo swore, and ran.  There was a quiet burst of fire from behind her.  One bullet grazed her shoulder.  She tripped over some rubble, seeing two more officers now coming toward her too.  Echo got to her feet and ran again.


She turned, hearing the PDFs.  As they ran through the ruins of the big apple, quick bursts of fire came from the.  Echo finally ducked behind some rubble, readying the snub-nosed revolver, spinning the cylinder.  There was another burst from the PDFs.

“Circle!” one shouted.  A split-second later, there was a whoop from a downed officer.  Echo peered around the corner, seeing another PDF fall.

“SNIPER!” another shouted.  A second later there was the same whoop, echoing through the dark.    The last PDF turned to run, but was gunned-down, like the others.

Echo didn’t care as long as she could escape.  She ran down one of the ruined streets.

“Hey!” someone shouted.  “Get over here!”

Unsure, Echo slowly approached a blue flash of light.  As she neared it, someone grabbed her and pulled her into the rubble.  A knife was at her throat.  She clenched her fists and her katars appeared in her hands.

“Let her go, Alysdir,” someone said.  “She didn’t do anything.”

“Let me go,” Echo said.

The knife slowly dropped from her throat.  Soon as it was gone, she made her katars vanish.

“You’ve been on the surface, how long now?” the first man asked.  “And, you still put a knife to the throat of anything that moves?”

“She could’ve been Breed,” a second man said.

“Look, if she was Breed, she wouldn’t have been running from PDF.”

Echo slowly turned around, holding her revolver ready.  She saw two men, both with white hair.  One was human, while the other looked elven, only with ebony skin.  She’d never seen one like him before.  The Human wore a stolen PDF jacket, and had a set of knives in a sash over his shoulder.  The Elf wore some odd armor, which looked vaguely like a style of Legionnaire armor, but it was most definitely not.  “It’s okay.  You’re safe now.”

She slowly lowered the revolver.  “You’re the resistance, right?”

“Yeah,” the human said.

“Umm… I’m looking for a Saint Harriet.  D-do you know her?”

“Yes,” the Elf said.  “Are you Cassie?”

“Y-yeah…”  She looked up.  “I’m surprised you know my real name.”

“Eh,” the Human said.  “Jimmy gives us a lot of stuff to go on.”  He slipped a shell into his shotgun.  “We’d better get moving before those gate codes get changed.”

“Right,” the Elf said.  “What about her?”

“We bring her with us.  Saint Jimmy has entrusted her safety to us.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Anyway.”  The man tossed some white hair over his shoulder.  “My name’s Rylin.  This is Alysdir.”

The ebony-skinned Elf gave her a small nod.  “Can we move, before the next patrol comes through?”

“Yeah.  Alysdir, cover me when I reach the gates.  If we’re lucky, the codes won’t have changed and we’ll manage to get back to the tanker, fast.”

“And if not?”

“Then you’ll have to pick off anyone trying to interrupt my work.  Like I do for you.”

“Right.”


They moved from rubble heap to rubble heap.  Rusted car to rusted car, until they got behind a pile of concrete and rebar, half-buried in the snow.  Just in front of them was a large concrete wall.  There was a sliding gate there, using rubble and a ruined building to form more of the wall.  

“Cassie,” Rylin said.  “Stick close to Alysdir.  When he says to go for the gate, run.”

“Okay,” she said, pushing the single brown streak in her hair back.

“Same as entry?” Alysdir asked.

Rylin nodded, right before he made a break for the gate.

Alysdir cocked his Barret XM750, and looked at Echo.  “What?” he asked.

“I-I’ve just… just never seen an Elf with…”

“I’m not an Elf.  I’m a Drow.”  Alysdir lay down on his stomach and aimed the sniper rifle through a crack in the rebar and concrete.  “Get down!” he said, pulling her to the ground with him.  “And stay quiet!”  Through his scope, Alysdir saw Rylin working as fast as he could, but there was someone creeping up behind him.  Rylin turned, seeing a PDF SWAT officer.  A split-second later, the officer fell dead, his radio whooping.


A spent, fifty caliber casing was ejected from Alysdir’s rifle, smoke still came from the brass.  Just as it hit the ground, the gate began to open.

“Go!” Alysdir said, hitting Echo.

She got to her feet and ran for the gate.  Behind her, the Drow followed.

“Come here!” Rylin said to her.  He handed her his shotgun.  “If Alysdir misses one, just shoot ‘em!  Wait until they get close though!”

Echo nodded and saw Alysdir scale a nearby fire escape, before readying his rifle again.  “GET DOWN!” he shouted.  His rifle fired twice.  There were two whoops.  Echo turned, seeing a body slump over the wall by the gate.  A rifle fell to the ground.

“You tryin’ to alert every uber on the island?” Rylin shouted.

“I’m covering your sorry ass!” Alysdir shouted back.

There was a burst of fire from two PDF SWATs, from the gate the three had just come through.

Echo aimed and fired the shotgun.  One officer fell and his radio whooped.  Alysdir jumped from the fire escape and came towards the gate.

“Aysdir, cover that wound!” Rylin growled.  “I don’t want a distraction!”  The gate opened and he pulled the shotgun from Echo’s hands.


The three ducked behind a car.  There was a burst of fire from PDF assault rifles.  Rylin fired at one near the car.  To their right was a bombed-out building of Manhattan.

“Get up there and gimme some cover fire!” Rylin shouted.

Alysdir nodded, before he and Echo entered the building.  Another SWAT officer met them with submachine gun fire.

Echo fired three times with her revolver.  He fell, radio whooping.

Alysdir headed up the rickety stairs to the second story.  “Watch my back,” he ordered.

“Yeah,” she said, reloading the revolver.

“Turavoi,” Alysdir swore, quickly taking aim.  His Barret fired twice.

Echo saw a shadow coming up the stairs.  The head of a PDF appeared.  She fired.  One of her two shots hit him and he fell down the stairs.  There was no loud whoop though.

Alysdir fired again, with his shot, the demise of another PDF sounded.  A second later, a canister clattered on the floor, coming from the stairs.  He looked over his shoulder, and quickly covered his face.  “Cover your eyes!” he shouted.

Echo was quick to do so.  An ear-splitting bang deafened her and Alysdir.  Echo’s eyesight was a little blurry now, with some after-image effect.  She saw two PDF officers coming up the stairs.  She fired, but missed.

Alysdir jumped forward, and slammed the butt end of his rifle into one of them.  Echo put her pistol away and pounced on one, her katars appeared and she killed both of them.  Alysdir quickly ran back to the window to see Rylin wrestling with a SWAT officer.  He took aim and fired.

“WATCH YOUR SHOOTING!” Rylin shouted.

The Drow muttered something, watching the final gate open.  He headed for the stairs.  They shattered under his weight.  Echo looked down and carefully jumped to the floor.


“Here,” Alysdir said, handing her one of the PDF guns.  “This is a P-15 Stormbringer.  It’s a good assault rifle and uses common enough ammo.”

“Let’s go, Alysdir!” Rylin shouted.

“He’s right,” Echo added.

Again, Alysdir mumbled something and they headed for the gate.


They stopped on the other side of the gate.  Rylin fired his shotgun at a panel.  The gate began to close behind them.

“What now?” Echo asked.

“We go home,” Rylin said.  “Then, we go to Boston.”  He looked at Alysdir.  “Go tell them to set another seat at the table.”

“Right,” he said.

“What about you, though?” Echo asked.

“I’m gonna get some fast food,” Rylin said.  With that, he began walking away from the two.


Echo and Alysdir walked in silence for a long time.  His eyes glowed red and he guided her through the devastated streets of Manhattan Island.

“So, what’s the difference between a Drow and an Elf?” Echo asked.

“Lots of differences,” Alysdir said.  “For one thing, we don’t like the sun.  We live underground.”  He stopped and looked back at her.  “You’ve never heard of Drow?”

“Nope, never.”

Alysdir slung his rifle over his shoulder, and motioned her to keep following.

“If your people live underground, what…”

“Am I doing here?”  He chuckled.  “I ran away.”

“Why?”

“Drow males are...”   He stopped walking for a second.  “Let’s just say we’re seen to serve only two real purposes.  Entertainment and something to fuck for the females.”

Echo shuttered.

“I left because I didn’t like it.  Enough said.”

“How long have you been on the surface?”

“Almost a year now.”  He looked back at her.  “You’re awfully chatty.”

“Just making conversation.”  She raised the stormbringer.

“You’ve never used a gun before?”

Echo shook her head.  “Only the one Jimmy gave me.”
“That thing has a bit of recoil to it.  Short, controlled bursts too.  Just like how the PDF uses them.

“Okay.”  Echo raised the weapon.

Alysdir grabbed the barrel casing of her weapon.  “Keep it straight!”  He touched the sight on the end of the barrel.  “Line this up with your target.”

“Okay.”  She sighed and lowered it.  “Can we just go?”

“Yes, let’s.”  He shook his head.