the same accident that caused the loss of his leg at age six also stimulated the latent genetics that ran in his family to trigger a mutation. Although becoming one of the ‘exo-humans’ the government monitored would prove to be the least of his worries once he stumbled upon his family’s secret.

Ayers got his first look at a Drav as he helped to pull the wagon heavily loaded with the cane stalks. The first thing he noticed was their size, the creatures had to be at least eight feet tall and muscled like weight lifters. They were human like in appearance, at least they had two arms and two legs like a man but their skin color was strange, several shades of gray and even some black mixed made Ayers quickly realize why using the cover of darkness as he has first suggested would not have worked, the pattern on their skin would give these creatures a natural camouflage in the dark.

The two guards that stood on either side of the hard packed dirt road outside of the small town wore very dark goggles. Yet another item that told Ayers that these beasts were originally nocturnal. The sun was not that bright yet, and even at its fullest that Ayers had seen in the couple days he had been on this planet, it was no more than a sunny day would have been on Earth. The one that stood on the side of the wagon Ayers was on was missing an ear and had a long scar that ran from the missing ear to its very prominent chin. Ayers quickly ducked his head down when he saw the creature look toward the passing wagon. Ayers wished there was a way he could determine the beasts speed and agility. Ryan had said they were near human normal in that respect, but had a much greater strength.

Not quite fifty yards past the gate, the coyote released his clawed grip from the underside of the wooden wagon and dropped to the ground. Quickly gaining his feet the coyote scampered off to the right and disappeared into a narrow alley between two buildings. The caravan of wagons would be in front of the old museum in less than twenty minutes, not a lot of time for the coyote to find a suitable location and prepare but it would have to do. Electing speed over stealth, the coyote ran down the alley away from the wagons, hoping that any Drav that did notice would mistake him for one of the large furry rodents that seemed to be everywhere.

The Coyote continued moving away from the caravan of wagons as fast as he could without being spotted, sticking to the side streets and alleys as much as possible. The people at the small village had drawn rough maps of the large town in the dirt giving him and the others some idea of where everything important lay in within the sprawling settlement of one and two story structures. There were some larger buildings but all those lay in the center of town, one of which was the other team’s target, the museum. It along with close to a dozen other buildings in its vicinity had all been constructed out of large limestone blocks that had been transported here to build those buildings centuries before the Drav had taken over this world.

The buildings slowly became smaller as the coyote made his way stealthily away from the city’s main avenue. Wood and sod structures became prevalent now. Stopping at the corner of one of smaller buildings before crossing what appeared to be a larger more well used street, the coyote noticed the roofs of the buildings across the hard packed dirt road were thatched roofs. Thinking this could create the diversion his allies would need the coyote made sure the coast was clear to dart across the roadway.

Just as he was about to bolt from his secluded position he heard a noise behind him, swiveling his head around the coyote saw a large creature stalking toward him, well large in comparison to the coyote’s two foot tall stature anyways. It walked on all fours and the way it was trying to creep up on him it reminded him of a cat stalking its prey, but that was the only similarity it held with a cat. Its head looked more like that of an alligator or crocodile but its eyes were placed looking directly forward instead of the sides like the reptile’s head it resembled. Its body was covered in long fur the same color as the tan earth under its feet. At the shoulders it appeared to be slightly taller than the coyote and it was obviously stalking the coyote. The beast was quiet, it was only by sheer chance the coyote had noticed it was behind him, how long it had been stalking him through the city streets he had no idea.

The coyote started it directly in the eyes, not blinking. Yes the coyote blinked just like any living animal did and for the same reason, to clear dust and debris, although in the coyote’s case it was not an uncontrollable reflex like living creatures had. The coyote was mechanical, a robot, blinking was something is processor controlled and only did when necessary. Many animals would back down when you could show them dominance and one form of dominance was to look them in the eye and show no fear, the coyote hoped this was the case for this alien creature.

When the beast pounced, the coyote was ready and by the time the creature landed the coyote was halfway across the narrow roadway. The coyote did not stop to look behind him as he ran, zig zagging through the alleyways between buildings giving his best effort to lose the creature only stopping when he knew that the diversion he was to create must begin now or else he would not be able to draw enough of the Drav away from the museum to give Apocalypse and Ayers the time they would need.

Skidding to a halt in one of the narrow alleys the coyote took one glance behind him to make sure he had lost the creature or at least left it far enough behind to set up the diversion. Throwing the lid off one of the trash bins the alleys seemed to have a multitude of, he dug around until he found some papers and cloth rags. Reaching around to his own back, the coyote’s hand slipped inside the small hidden compartment just to the right of his spine. As he pulled his hand out from inside his back a business card fell out and landed on the ground, on it was written, “Wile E. Coyote” in the center of the card. Under that the words, “GENIUS” and in the left lower corner, “Have Brain,” and on the opposite corner, “Will travel.” Holding the disposable lighter up to the paper and cloth he had found in the garbage, the coyote struck the lighter and set the items on fire before dropping them back into the trash. Digging into the other trash cans the coyote began tossing as much flammable material as he could find into the one he had sat on fire. The fire grew higher and higher until it set the dry straw of the thatched roof on fire.

Pushing the lighter back into his hiding place, the coyote make a gesture of wiping his hands together several times and turned to leave the way he had come. “Yikes!” he muttered when he saw the creature making its way down the alley toward him then turned to run once again. The coyote had reached the far end of the alley and the creature had just passed the trash can when something in the trash can exploded. Fiery debris rained down on several of the thatched roofs in the surrounding area.

It was so easy to get around in the Drav held town, the old man’s people had become complacent, finding it easier to outlive their oppressors than to fight them and die. Which was easy actually since the Drav never made it much past thirty seasons, his people’s children didn’t even reach puberty in that short of a time span. In his lifespan he had seen generations of the Drav come and go. His youngest son, who was only beginning his growth into a man, had already seen three overseers be replaced due to old age on their farming village. For hundreds of seasons the Drav had been in control, over a thousand of generations of Drav growing complacent at the docility of their slave labor, today that would change. The D’pakja had come and was giving his people the opportunity to take back their world, this chance would not be wasted. The man had been instructed to set off the device Apocalypse had given him and toss it from the stairs, and then run, but the man knew if he did that the guard may have time to intercept the device and throw it off the rooftop. No, the man may have led Apocalypse to believe that was what he would do, but he had other plans, plans that would make sure the device destroyed the Drav’s ability to use their communication devices.

The man feigned that he was out of breath once he reached the roof of the three story stone building, not that he truly was but it gave him the chance to get closer to the communications array before answering to the Drav guard that was there. *My overseer,* the man panted as he walked quickly toward the array, *Important…must do this he ordered.*

The Drav guard raised his weapon, *You are not allowed there!* As the man continued to approach the comm array.

The man continued toward the array, *The overseer ordered!*

*Stop!* the guard shouldered the weapon, *You will die!*

Pressing the button on the small baseball size black orb, the man turned and grinned at the guard, *You are coming with me.* He said tossing the black orb behind him where it rolled a few feet before coming to rest almost under the comm array.

*What is that?* The guard commanded and answer.

*Freedom!* The man said as the orb began to give off electrical effects and then burst into a swirling vortex of utter blackness that began growing, sucking the man into it before the guard could fire his weapon. Loose debris on the roof began flying into the swirling mass and the communication array began to groan and bend to the intense gravity before it was ripped off its moorings and followed into the abyssal vortex. The guard tried to fight the intense pull it held on him but as the force grew he quickly lost his footing and was pulled in. The effect continued to grow, pulling more and more into it, even some of the buildings heavy limestone blocks began to move toward the ever increasing vortex, then as suddenly as it began it vanished leaving a twenty foot hole in the roof.

Dark smoke from the blazing fires billowed into the sky as Drav all around the town dropped what they were doing and raced toward the blaze. Ryan and the crew continued pulling the large wagons down the dirt street as Drav ran past. As the wagons approached the museum entrance, Ryan stepped away from the wagon pulling the cloak off as his armor covered his body. On Que the other men pulling the wagons screamed, *It’s an Arm, a D’pak! Run!* dropping their holds on the wagon’s yoke and ran toward the museum. Ryan, armor now fully engaged, reached his right hand over his shoulder and gripped the rifle’s stock that began forming from the armor, at the same time his left hand went to the small of his back. Soon as Apocalypse’s sensor disk formed, he released it into the air where it quickly soared upward to give him an Aerial view of what would quickly become a battlefield.

The men ran into the museum screaming and pointing back toward the position Apocalypse had taken in the center of the street, where Apocalypse was now taking aim and picking off the Drav that were too foolish to take cover. The Drav were shouting in their own language as they ran in his direction. From the way the Drav that had not noticed him turned and ran in his direction, those shouts must have been a call to arms. Most of the tall aliens were unarmed, some did have various weapons in their hands, mostly the long knives most of them carried on their belts, although there were a few with firearms.

Taking aim at the ones furthest away Apocalypse squeezed the trigger again and again, each shot sailing past the closer Drav that were rushing forward toward Apocalypse, before striking their respective targets. Not a single Drav bothered to take cover as it appeared to them the blue armored man was a terrible shot, not even coming close to hitting a single one of their own that they could see closing in on the shooter. Of course the dead that were piling up behind them told another story.

Dropping several more of the Drav, Apocalypse could see the one rushing him from what should have been his blind side, had he not released the drone, which hovered far above relaying a birds eye view of his surroundings that displayed on the inside of Apocalypse’s visor. Apocalypse could have easily avoided the creature as it lunged at him, but the longer they believed they had the advantage in strength and numbers, the longer it would be before they brought out weapons that could penetrate Apocalypse’s armor. It was a delicate balancing act Apocalypse preformed, keep them focused on himself while appearing just challenging enough that the Drav would engage without bringing any of the heavier weapons. Apocalypse had no idea what types of his own people’s weapons they may have managed to get working and some of those could penetrate his armor.

Overseer Trakk looked up from the archival record he had been reading when several slaves came running into the building. Drakk had won his place as head overseer in Vrie’za research only last season. Larnm had been in charge up until that point, although Trakk had not meant to challenge his superior at the time, he had only wanted to voice his concern over how Larnm was overlooking obvious key points that could help them understand the strange technology of the Vrie’za. Trakk has only suggested that they learn the written language of this world, believing that by doing so they could better understand how their technology worked. Trakk was in her prime at only nine seasons, while Larnm with twenty six seasons behind him was old by their standards. While she knew that Lranm did not have many years left, she had never intended Larnm to take it as a challenge to his authority. She had given Larnm every chance to accept defeat once the fight had turned against him as Trakk stood over her once superior in victory. Larnm could have picked himself up and walked out, but he pressed the fight, forcing Trakk to kill him. Maybe it was the thought of becoming an elder that forced him to continue unto death, whatever the aged Drav’s reasons, Trakk would never know.

Over the year that Trakk had been in charge, she had learned how to read the written language of the natives of this world. Her first surprise was that this building was not an armory as Larnm and many others suspected it was a museum and library that contained historical documents that dated further back in time than the creation of Trakk’s own people. She had even discovered that the people of this world were the creators of the portals that her own people used to travel from one planet to another. Although this was a discovery that she kept to herself, The Drav thought their gods had placed the portals in worlds that they wished the Drav to conquer. Telling anyone that the race they enslaved here on this planet were the true gate builders, the ones her own people worshiped as gods would only bring Trakk a quick death.

Rising up from where she had been sitting, Trakk walked over to the nearest window to see what was going on as all her workers ran out the door in hopes of scoring much wanted status. Trakk was nowhere near that impulsive, especially after hearing what the Vrie’za had called the attacker. Their language was spoken exactly how it was written, with multiple prefixes and suffixes combined to describe things exactly. Trakk was probably the only one of her people that knew the significance of that particular almost unused prefix when the slaves ran in shouting, “D’pakja!” Carefully picking up the ancient book so as not to lose her place, Trakk went over to the polished sandstone steps that led up to the second floor and proceeded to her quarters. If she were to die today, Trakk thought she may as well do so comfortably lounging in her rooms.

Opening the door to her room Trakk saw the human girl quickly get up from the chair she sat in, *Mistress Trakk, is something wrong?*

Trakk shook her head.*Lorni, How many times have I told you not to call me your mistress when we are alone?*

*Sorry Trakk,* Lorni replied, *Since it is not like you to return to your room at this time of day, I did not know if you would be alone.* Lorni paused then glanced at the window, *Sounds like a fight is happening, has there been a challenge?*

“No my dearest friend, there is a fight but it is no challenge,* Trakk closed the door then walked up to Lorni. Looking down at the shorter woman, Trakk locked her eyes on the petite woman, *Promise me that you perform my last honor. I wish that you, my true friend do me this honor when I am gone.*

Lorni’s eyes widened at hearing this, *You, you are young for a Drav, why would you ask of this now?*

*Because you have taken care of me since before I could crawl, you are my family.* Trakk got down on one knee so she would be eye to eye with the woman, using the woman’s own language she wrapped her arms around the woman in a gentle hug, *You have always been and always will be CuuSa’sena.* Switching back to her own language, *Did I say that correctly?*

A tear ran down the woman’s cheek as she returned the hug, *Yes, and I am proud that you wish to call me your mother. You have always been CuuSa’eena. So tell me why this sudden fear of dying?*

*The fight outside, it is a D’pakja.*

Lorni stiffened, sucking in a deep breath, *It cannot be, the D’pak are no more, slaughtered before I was born.*

*I saw it with my own eyes, the dark blue molten armor they are said to wear.*

*But their oath, their purpose…* Lorni’s jaw dropped and her eyes grew wider.

*Yes my Dasena,* Trakk interrupted, *that means at least one of your people’s high born still exist.*

Apocalypse was ready for the impact when the much larger Drav tackled him to the ground. Dropping the rifle as he rolled with the impact, the rifle morphed into a fluid mass and began flowing back toward its owner. The two rolled along a few yards before Apocalypse stood up, a short sword in each hand while the Drav lay on the ground in an ever widening pool of blood. The swords resembled the ancient Japanese Wakizashi blade. A simple hand grip with no guard with an eighteen inch slightly curved blade that ended in a chisel tip. Preparing for the onslaught of Drav almost upon him Apocalypse found his mind wandering once again to the cryptic old woman as he began fighting, twisting and slashing the razor sharp blades at the waves of Drav coming at him. Why would she treasure a picture of him and his mother so much? Why did she refer to his mother as ‘her love’?

As more of the Drav pressed in it became harder to swing the twin blades for the killing blows Apocalypse wanted and he was forced to use short slashing moves and stabs with the blades that only wounded and angered the Drav. The dirt under his feet had turned into a slippery mud from the amount of blood that had spilled onto the ground causing Apocalypse’s footing to give him trouble, the only saving grace was that it was even more difficult for the Drav as Apocalypse’s blades wove a circle of death and pain around him. Apocalypse knew the moment he lost his footing the sheer number of Drav around him would be enough to weigh him down and disarm him.

Apocalypse’s mind drifted back to the old woman, she reminded him of how a grandmother would act. Apocalypse never knew any of his real relatives, other than his mother and father of course. They had fled their home world with him and their charge when he was very small. So small he could not remember anything other than the home they made on earth. Although he had no children or plans for any, Apocalypse, like everyone else, had heard that there was no greater love than a mother has for her child. If what he thought was correct, why wouldn’t the old woman just come out and tell him she was his grandmother? But then she had told them that she had personally destroyed the gate his mother used to visit her so that his mother and her family would remain safe. Was she hiding the truth to protect him also? It had to be, it was the only thing that made sense to him.

An explosion caused apocalypse to lose his footing and drop to one knee. Luckily it had an even greater effect on the taller Drav around him, knocking many of them to the ground. Glancing in the direction of the blast Apocalypse saw his reinforcements had arrived. Five pak had joined the fight and one of them wore a crimson armor his parents had told him legends about. The blood-cutter armor had not been used in eons, none was even known to continue to exist according to Ryan’s parents, but here one was brandishing the whip swords of legend. This armor was not pak it was Sa’Cha, elite warrior and extremely dangerous to not only the enemy but to the wearer. The ancient armor used older and discarded nanite technology to conform to its wearer. While it gave the wearer immediate and intimate knowledge of its system and weapons, worn by someone with a weak will it could take control of the wearer mind turning the wearer into a mindless killing machine.

The armored allies quickly engaged in the fight, still heavily outnumbered but due to their superior armor and weapons the battle quickly turned against the Drav who were beginning to flee. Across the wide street Apocalypse saw something dart out between two buildings, a four legged creature about the size of a large dog. It took him a moment to realize that the coyote was riding on the back of the strange creature and holding a long pole of some type out in front of the rider and its mount. The creature’s growl got the attention of the Drav it was barreling toward. As the Drav turned the coyote lowered the end of the pole and using the momentum of the creature he rode, drove the pole like a lance into the Drav’s crotch as they sped by. Apocalypse watched as the beast and rider made a wide turn and began to line up on another Drav. Apocalypse couldn’t spare any more attention on the coyote as he was pressed back into battle himself.

After half a dozen of the brown arm bands had been reset and handed out, Ayers stopped worrying about what color the damn things were and began grabbing the nearest one and working. There was an abundance of brown and gray ones although Ayers was so intent on getting the bands reset, he would not have even noticed the red one had it not been such a bright crimson color. Although he only paused for a moment before he had that one reset and held it out for the next person to grab it and put it on. A woman had grabbed that one and ran toward the front where several browns were holding any of the Drav from entering. Before reaching the door the band activated quickly covering her body in crimson armor that matched the color of the band. The woman now fully engulfed in crimson armor shouted at the armored men and they followed her quickly out the door. Glancing up Ayers saw only two men left without bands, grabbing another one, Ayers began to work on it when something hit him hard in the back, sending him sprawling across the floor.

Sitting up on his knees he saw a brown armored man getting up and across the room a very large Drav. The brown armor got up and rushed toward the Drav as Ayers quickly looked around for the band he had dropped. Spotting it a few feet away Ayers half slid half crawled to it and finished the reset before tossing it to one of the two that were still waiting on a band. Before the armor had time to form and protect the man, there was a bright flash and the man fell with a large hole in his chest. Another flash and the man still standing near him fell, half his head now missing. Ryan dove to the side and behind a column just in time to see another flash and a six inch circle on the floor where Ayers had just been kneeling turned molten from the searing heat of the beam weapon.

Ayers took a quick glance around the side of the column he had used for cover but the attacker could not be seen. Leaning slightly further out, Ayers felt a vise like grip lock onto his arm behind him and was flung through the air across the room, landing heavily on the floor before sliding to a stop. Before Ayers could begin to get up he was jerked up off the ground two vise like hands one on his arm another on his leg, lifted him high above the Drav attached to those hands. Ayers tried to reach into the leather bag at his side but found it hung behind and under him from the single long strap that ran across his chest and around his shoulder. The Drav that held him let out an animal like noise, half growl half roar before throwing him across the room.

Ayers hit the stone wall and slid down to the floor, his left arm between his body and the floor at an odd angle. From the pain he felt when he tried to move it, Ayers knew his arm was broken. Before he could roll himself enough to free his arm, the Drav that had thrown him had ran over and picked Ayers up by his left shoulder causing Ayers to almost black out from the excruciating pain. As Ayers felt himself being pulled up from the floor, he spotted the long knife the Drav carried on his belt. As the creature pulled Ayers up, he grabbed the handle of the long bladed weapon with his good hand, pulled it free of its sheath and with all his might drove it into the creature’s side, burying almost half the twenty seven inch blade between the Drav’s ribs.

The Drav’s scream was something Ayers hoped to never hear again, calling it blood curdling would have been akin to calling a cat’s meow a lion’s roar. The sound the creature made sent chills up his spine. The Drav let go of Ayers and reached for the long knife sticking out of its side. Ayers had hung onto the handle and as gravity pulled him toward the ground, his grip on the bladed weapon caused the blade to open the wound further, leaving a long gash in the Drav’s side as the blade sliced its way along its side as it pulled free. Further infuriating the creature, the sudden movement of the long knife as it tried to grasp it, caused the drav to grab the razor sharp blade, cutting its hand deeply as the sharp blade removed three of the Drav’s fingers as it sliced through the creatures grasp.

Ayers fell onto his back almost losing his grip on the blade he held. The Drav falling face first beside him put an arm under itself and began to get up. Swinging the blade as hard as Ayers could, he hit the Drav in the back of the neck, almost severing its head from its body the Drav fell back to the floor, unmoving. Dropping the blade, Ayers fought to drive back the darkness that began to cloud the edges of his vision as he used his one good arm to drag the satchel around so he could reach one of the few items he had not left with his HALO armor. If he could reach one of the e-stims he had brought, he could retain consciousness.

The e-stims they were issued were a combination of Oxycodone and Epinephrine premixed into one of the auto injectors most everyone referred to as an epi-pen. Although instead of being used for Anaphylactic shock, the dosage was vastly different, giving the soldier an adrenaline boost along with a heavy dose of painkillers which would allow the user to continue on even after being wounded.

Ayer’s vision continued to darken, he could barely see the body of the Drav lying beside him, “At least I took your ass with me, you son of a bitch.” Ayers cursed when he located the crushed plastic box, wet with the contents of the pens that had leaked out after being crushed. Relaxing Ayers allowed his head fall back to the floor while sighing deeply as he consigned himself to the inevitable darkness that he knew from the extent of the injuries he would probably never wake up from. As darkness surrounded him, his hand brushed against the one thing inside the satchel that remained undamaged.

Remembering the old woman’s warning a second of indecision crept into Greg’s mind but knowing of the healing properties the device was his only hope of survival Greg began struggling one handed trying to position his arm into the arm band so it could close on his arm.