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"Lt. General Lane, good to see you again. No doubt you're aware of the disturbing reports coming from the Plains of Path?"

"Yes sir! General Baxter, I understand that Colonel Kapp fought off a surprise attack and was able to salvage the food processing plants. I read in one of my briefs that the colonel was wounded in battle and will be out of commission for a few weeks. I recommend sending a replacement commander to assume her position until further notice."

General Oleander T. Baxter, chief commander of the Empire's armies, considered his lieutenant's suggestion for a few moments. Lt. General Nancy Lane was a fine soldier, and an excellent administrator, but her understanding of the bond between troops and their commanding officers was suspect at best. The last thing he needed to do is disrupt the balance of power on the front line of the war. Besides, Major Bree was proving to be a very capable leader according to the personnel briefs from Special Advisor Cale.

"I believe it's better to keep a familiar face on the front lines for now, don't you think? Major Ben Bree is doing a fine job and Colonel Kapp will be there to provide direction should he require it."

"As you command, General!" Lt. General Lane snapped to attention in acknowledgement of the order.

"Good. The night before the attack Colonel Kapp sent this strongly worded recommendation for an immediate re-supply of troops and munitions. Considering that her forward camp was nearly decimated, I believe it is in our best interests to give in to her request. What do we have available Nancy?"

"Sir, reallocating our resources may be difficult to carry out, nearly impossible in fact. We're training new recruits as fast as possible but we cannot keep up with the demand. Colonel Hanoy is in danger of losing some of the lowland cities and villages. It was my intent to send him reinforcements first, and then consider the needs of the other positions. Might I remind you, sir, that we require the lowland fisheries and craftsmen just as much as they need us."

"I am well aware of that fact." Baxter leaned back in his well-padded chair causing it to groan in protest. The large bear rubbed his prodigious belly as he was apt to do when contemplating a tough decision. The Empire prided itself on looking after its citizens, however Oleander knew how often Hanoy complained about losing this building or that piece of land. More often than not it was just his way of expressing frustration rather than a genuine call for help.

"Nancy, split the next batch of recruits equally between both colonels. I'll apologize to Hanoy later if he makes a fuss. Just find a way to get it done."

"Yes sir! Is there anything else, sir?"

Oleander's eye twitched in annoyance at Nancy's formal speech. Respect for the chain of command was usually reserved for mixed company, but since he and Nancy were alone in his office, there was no need for all the cries of 'Sirs!' and 'Generals!'. He once asked the grey and white furred hare to speak casually with him and was met by her blank stare and an awkward apology stating that she preferred the formal address. He sighed and chalked her tone up as something he'd have to endure.

"No, Lt. General, that is all. Dismissed."

Nancy turned sharply and marched out of the General's office, closing the door with a loud bang behind her. Oleander needed to get that fixed or put some sort of cushioning device between the door jam. It was yet another inconvenience of this pointless war. He pushed his chair away from the mountains of papers and reports on his desk and stared out of the 3rd story window. The sun shone brightly and it looked to be a beautiful day to spend outside sipping tea and talking with friends. All of Oleander's friends were in the military, and not quite the friends you'd ask out for a relaxing day in the sun. He recalled his basic training days and how much fun he had with the recruits, drinking and betting on how many pushups they could do.

The assassination of the Emperor and the outbreak of war 12 years ago changed all that. Oleander was quickly promoted up the chain to the chief commanding officer of the army with more responsibility than any other commander in the history of the Empire. They were engaged in a war on four diverse fronts, all with unique challenges to overcome and assets to protect. The value of the Plains of Path was known throughout the Empire since the bulk of fresh food was grown and processed from Colonel Kapp's position. Due to a quirk of terrain, the plains became the main front of both the Empire's military and the Aristocratic Liberation League (ALL) forces. The battles fought on the plains were not the typical airstrike and mass bombardments of the opposing force's positions; rather, the precious fertile land was protected on both sides by groups of entrenched soldiers. No one risked an all-out frontal assault, any such plan would be met with disaster, so the armies sat nearly immobile and territory was taken and given up in brutal small arms engagements.

The remaining three fronts, while diverse, held vastly different resources of strategic importance. The lowland cities housed many of the Empire's loyal citizens, craftsmen and merchants. Various fisheries lined the coastal villages which provided a constant supply of food to the nation. The Dawn's Roost mountain range was a hotly contested region dotted with various active iron and coal mines. As a result of the sheltered nature of the terrain, the region was a frequent target of air strikes and artillery barrages. Finally, the communication and power hub of the Empire was located on the Dunbar crossroads. The area was open on all sides to attack but was well defended by capable commanders and battle-hardened troops.

A loud knock at the door shook Oleander from his reverie.

"Enter!"

Oleander's personal orderly gently opened the door and presented him a long envelope with a large "Top Secret" stamp on the front in blood red ink. His stomach tightened and hands trembled as he reached for the envelope that likely contained orders from the High Council. When Emperor Michal was assassinated, the High Council took over the role of leadership until the war effort ended. The current council members did not have any military training, nor were they expert strategists, but were among the most intelligent minds in the Empire. New High Council officials were elected every 2 years by loyal citizens to eliminate the possibility of nepotism or corruption. Decisions and orders from the High Councilor's table were followed without question as they represented the will of the people.

"Dismissed Private Young." The orderly left the general alone in his office.

The envelope was triple sealed and it took a few minutes for Oleander to remove the one-page mission briefing. It was signed by all 14 council members and contained only two short paragraphs of information. He read the page twice, and then destroyed it as per protocol.

"This better work..."

---

Beads of sweat rolled down Miranda's neck and each breath was taken through gritted teeth as she strained to lift her left leg up and out. The bandages around her upper thigh rippled and stretched with every repetition. It had been a week since she had been wounded in a surprise attack, taking four bullet wounds to her leg and abdomen, and the physical therapy she needed was turning out to be a very difficult challenge. While Miranda's injuries were severe, the medical care she received from Dr. Tannen was second to none. The wounds themselves had closed and were healing ahead of schedule, even the nurses remarked at how better they looked from one day to the next.

Muttered curses could be heard coming from the bed of Captain Robert "Worthy" Worthington who had been in critical condition until a few days ago. Now conscious and utterly incapable of being waited on, Worthy seemed to improve not by the recommended rest and relaxation, but by a constant stream of complaints and curses to anyone within earshot. Miranda talked to him cheerily enough, trying to draw him out of his self-imposed misery and back to the confident, surly bull she knew and respected. Worthy took a grenade blast to his back and some of the imbedded shrapnel could not be removed without risking further injury. So the captain remained in bed, in persistent agony and letting whoever came near know just how much he wanted to get up and back on duty.

Miranda had no doubt that Worthy would ignore his pain in favor of commanding his troops again. She felt a similar itch to return to her post, but the idea of facing soldiers who knew of her secret deformity shamed her and was too much to bear. One of Miranda's first requests to the nurses, once she regained some mobility, was to take over the task of washing herself at night. The first time a nurse tried to give her a sponge bath turned into a dangerous struggle to hide the limp shaft between her thighs and she nearly tore out a few stitches in the process. Fortunately, Miranda only had to deal with the nightly ordeal for a few days before she was able to clean herself in the semi-privacy of the triage tent.

Major Ben Bree kept Miranda apprised of enemy movement on the front lines and even surprised her with news of reinforcements and fresh supplies arriving to camp. The boost to morale was obvious as tired soldiers were finally being relieved from the front lines for some well-deserved rest. Munitions, fresh food and even a rare mail delivery sparked a flurry of activity for once listless warrant officers. Previously scarce resources were now in abundant supply and the entire camp took on a celebratory feel as soldiers ate full rations for the first time in weeks.

The increased activity in the camp coupled with training the replacement troops meant that Captains Kam and Poole didn't have the time to visit Miranda as often as they'd like. Ben came around each morning and night to keep her informed and to seek advice on various command decisions. Miranda didn't resent the fact that Ben was acting in her stead, she thought he was doing a good job maintaining the chain of command and showing fine leadership qualities.

A sudden pain in Miranda's side made her suck in a deep breath to brace against the soreness that followed. She had pushed her physical therapy a little too far today, but then she always tested her limits in all things physical. It didn't matter that pain tried to slow her down, what mattered was Miranda's goal of getting back on her feet as soon as possible. She flexed the leg again and the pain returned, sharper than before. This was a sure sign to take a rest.

"Colonel Kapp? Sir? I'm looking for Colonel Miranda Kapp." An unfamiliar voice called out from the tent's opening.

"Come in soldier. I'm the last bed on the right." New voices meant new problems, problems that Miranda didn't need to deal with.

"Colonel Kapp, Specialist Trevor Lynn reporting. I'm your new orderly." He snapped to attention upon seeing the colonel sitting up in bed.

"Specialist Lynn is it? I suggest you help out Major Bree while he's acting commander. There's not much you can do for me unless you're able to carry me around." Miranda made a quick assessment of her new orderly. Lynn was a dark brown otter, somewhat short and stocky, and had large innocent-looking blue eyes behind a pair of small round glasses. His army issued fatigues appeared to be freshly pressed and the buttons shined in the afternoon light.

"Sir, I was informed that Major Bree is being assisted by Special Advisor Clinton Cale and does not require my services. Maybe I can be of assistance here somehow?" Miranda let loose an internal sigh of resignation - this was one problem she'd have to face now.

"Understood, Specialist Lynn. Um... why don't you tell me about yourself then?" Lynn's youthful face bore none of the signs of war. He was well-rested and took in his surroundings with a mix of awe and curiosity.

"Nothing much to tell, sir. I was recruited out of Teagan University where I graduated with honors in history and literature. I completed basic training out of Camp Burns and was advanced to specialist soon after. I believe I will be an asset to your operation. I take pride in my organization skills and efficiency in getting a task completed." Trevor's report sounded rehearsed, but Miranda took note of his higher than average intelligence and skill set.

"Good to know soldier. May I call you Trevor?"

"I'd prefer it, sir. May I speak freely?"

"Go ahead." Miranda raised an eyebrow at Trevor's curiosity.

"Are the stories about you true? About what happened during the attack last week? All I got was the short version, but everyone around here thinks..."

Miranda's gut dropped in fear. Were the troops speaking behind her back? Would all the new troops be told about her shame? Before she could ask, Trevor continued.

"Well, they think you're a hero. Can you really dodge bullets? Sir?"

Visibly relieved, Miranda responded as nonchalantly as she could: "All I did was my duty, Trevor. My strike team did the rest and saved my life too. They are the real heroes."

"That's very gracious of you to say, but what really happened out there, sir?"

"If you're that interested, I guess I fill in the blanks. You see it all began..." Miranda recalled the events of that fateful night from the first sounds of gunfire, to setting up a perimeter defense, and finally her role in destroying the tunnels that the League forces had dug. Trevor hung on her every word going so far as writing a few notes in a small book he carried. Captain Worthy shouted a few clarifications during her story telling about how he would have done this or that had he not been hit. Miranda tried to pass off her actions as part of her normal duty, but Trevor wouldn't hear of it.

"Sir, that's... amazing." Trevor's eyes shone in admiration for her accomplishments.

"It's who I am, I suppose."

The conversation was cut short as Major Bree came running into the tent, breathing hard and flushed from his physical exertion. He held a large "Top Secret" stamped envelope in a shaking hand.

"Colonel Kapp!" Though Ben was in great physical condition, the sprint had sapped his lungs and spoke hurriedly between gasps of air. "Urgent missive from central. It looks like... orders from the High Council."

"Come in Major. Trevor, I'm afraid you'll have to give us some privacy. Dismissed."

Trevor saluted and excused himself. Miranda watched the young looking otter as he left and thought that he would make a fine orderly, maybe even a great soldier if his intelligence was any indication. She turned to face Ben and accepted the envelope.

"This came straight from the top, Mir. See General Baxter's personal insignia on the label? Whatever this is, it's big."

Ben wasn't used to seeing these kinds of orders so his excitement was to be expected. Miranda was worried for she knew what these "Top Secret" envelopes usually contained and dreaded what it would mean for her and the camp. She tore open the manila envelope and removed the single sheet that bore her new mission.

Colonel Miranda Kapp, defender of the Plains of Path, is ordered to fall back from all forward positions to a distance of 5 km from the enemy's front line. You will establish a new line of defense at your fallback position and repel all attacks for three days and nights. On the fourth day, you and your encampment will bear witness to a weapon that will change the outcome of this war in favor of the Empire.

_ _

A reduction in food production is being accounted for and you will bear no personal responsibility for land destroyed over the next three days. The weapon itself should not have any long term negative impact on the land; however, our military experts predict a temporary loss of useable land for a period of two months. Fortunately, the impact on Empire controlled lands will be minimal.

_ _

Report any problems or delays to central communications.

_ _

General Oleander T. Baxter

Commander in Chief, Empire Military

"What the hell are they trying to do to us?" Miranda was upset at the thought of losing precious ground. She handed the order to Ben even though it was meant for her eyes only. Ben furrowed his brow and laid his long fox ears against his head when he finished reading. His could barely contain his outrage at the idea of retreat. Soldiers fought every day to gain an inch here or there, or to repel a push from the enemy, mainly because they understood and valued the land behind them. To issue a retreat would reduce the importance of months and years of fighting for the front line troops and they would need to understand and accept the rationale for this new mission.

"Mir, there's going to be a lot of hard questions to answer when we issue this order. Troop morale is high now, but this news could crush it faster than any defeat. How should I handle it?"

It would take more than a question and answer period to convince the entire brigade, besides even if they answered 100 questions, 1000 more would go unanswered. No, to convince anyone to follow, Miranda must first be able to lead. While her body was healing nicely, her self-esteem remained in tatters. The usual authoritative tone Miranda used to issue orders had abandoned her - no soldier would feel inspired by her current tone and she feared that Ben would need her support in the days to come.

"Ben, you're going to need to inform the brigade tomorrow morning. They will likely react poorly to the prospect of falling back. You and Captains Kam and Poole need to stand shoulder to shoulder and convince the troops that a retreat is in the best interests of the Empire and part of a grander plan."

"Hey, what about me?" The pained voice of Captain Worthington floated over the flimsy divider wall.

"If you're feeling well enough to stand, and if the doctor approves, I'm sure Ben will be happy to have you by his side." The sight of the powerful bull may do wonders to strengthen the resolve of the brigade when the order is given.

"Glad to have you, Worthy! I knew we couldn't keep you down for long." Ben's face brightened upon hearing the gruff voice of the injured captain.

"Ben..." Miranda lowered her voice to not be overheard. "Be strong, don't hesitate, and above all, leave no room for dissention. I... don't think I'll be able to help with that."

"Why not? You should be the one addressing the troops. They wouldn't question orders coming from you. Please, Mir, you have to snap out of whatever's gotten hold of you." Ben stared into her eyes trying to communicate how much he needed her guidance. Miranda looked away, unable to provide what he required.

"No... you don't understand... I can't face..." Tears formed in her eyes and the words caught in her constricted throat.

"Ok, ok, please don't cry, Mir. I'll handle it. Just... rest for now."

Miranda rolled over on her good side to avoid seeing Ben leave. She hadn't shown weakness in front of anyone since before the war, but this past week made her feel like she was in grade school all over again. Fear and shame had become her only companions; her nights were long and full of terrible dreams of furs laughing and pointing at the out-of-place panther sheathe and sack that covered her feminine parts. Miranda wept as the nightmares persisted until the light of dawn.

---

A strong breeze blew among the gathered soldiers stirring up clouds of choking dust from the compressed earth beneath their boots. The entire brigade responded to the urgent mission briefing called by Major Ben Bree, save for essential personnel who maintained on the forward lines. Nearly 3,400 bodies stood amidst shifting clouds of dirt waiting for the address to begin. No one knew what was going to be said, but a ripple of uncertainty spread from soldier to soldier due to the strangeness of this special event. The last time most soldiers remembered being gathered in such a large formation was during basic training or when waiting to be deployed.

Ben sat in a chair on a small stage constructed just for this event. Captains Roxy Kam, Jim Poole and Robert Worthington were seated and waiting for him to get up and begin the address. Worthy sat in some discomfort, cursing the inventor of the hard backed chair despite the dose of pain suppressants he received this morning. Low whispers of concern drifted from the mass of troops to Ben's sensitive ears, but he couldn't make out specifics. He didn't need to, the uneasy mood of the crowd communicated more than words could provide. Ben tried to stand up and call everyone to attention, but his legs turned to jelly and he dared not risk stumbling in sight of the fragile brigade. Captain Kam gave him a sharp jab to the stomach that spurred Ben to act. He got up and walked steadily to the microphone and began to speak.

"Soldiers of the Empire," Ben's voice echoed throughout the camp. He had to speak slowly in order to be understood. "I called you together to share important information regarding our mission on the Plains of Path. Last night we received orders from central command about a bold strategic plan to push back League forces for good."

"The mission is risky and will require you to perform above and beyond your normal duties." Ben swished his tail to signal the captains to stand as a show of unity. "Bear in mind that your commanders and I fully support this plan and expect all of you to carry out your orders to the best of your abilities."

Ben took a deep breath before delivering the actual order. "The Empire's High Council is preparing to use a weapon that will decimate the entrenched League forces in three days' time. To minimize the impact of this weapon to our troops, we are hereby ordered to fall back a distance of 5 km from the enemy and establish a new line of defense." Realization of what the order entailed hit the gathered army immediately. Gasps of surprise and angry whispers could be heard in ever increasing volume.

"We will be expected to hold off the League's inevitable advances for as long as possible to ensure the weapon's desired effect. Your specific orders will be issued by your commanding officers immediately following this announcement. Please direct any questions you may have to...."

Ben could not compete with the growing murmurs of malcontent emanating from the gathered troops. Shouts of opposition were clearly heard over the din and Ben's calls to attention went unheeded. Captains Kam, Poole and Worthington lent their support and yelled for calm and silence, but the crowd turned unruly and would not recognize their authority. It was chaos, worse than what Ben had feared and his heart sank as he realized the morale of the troops was broken.

---

Miranda was able to stand and watch the address from the entrance of the medical tent. She leaned heavily on crutches and silently cheered on Ben's performance. The pain of getting up from bed was manageable which allowed her to concentrate on gauging the mood of her soldiers. The scene looked grim. Calling the whole brigade together was an unusual event and the troops could sense that something extraordinary was happening. Miranda picked up a few muffled words from the closest members of the brigade, but she couldn't determine if they were spoken in excitement or apprehension. The low whispers faded away as Ben stood up and began to speak.

A clear, confident voice rang out from the loudspeakers encircling the stage. Ben's tone sounded reassuring but his overly-rehearsed, emotionless speech fell well short of Miranda's expectations. Soldiers didn't want to hear a simple mission briefing filled with the same tired military clichés they heard on a daily basis. These battle-bred men and women needed to be inspired, they needed passion, and they needed to know that even if an order appeared counter-productive, it would ultimately turn out for the best. If Ben didn't take charge of this situation, the army would disperse on its own accord, scattered and divided with no discernible central leadership. It would be disaster.

Miranda had to do something. She ignored the fear that had gripped her all week and limped around to the side of the stage. Each step was a new lesson in agony. It would have been impossible to continue forward without her crutches; the padded handles bore the deep imprints of her fingers as the crutches supported all of her weight. The pain dulled her senses somewhat and she didn't notice that the troops had grown silent and thousands of eyes watched every excruciating step Miranda took as she neared the stage. When she reached the base of the stairs two pairs of arms helped her up to the platform. Roxy and Jim stared wide-eyed at their struggling commander unable to comprehend Miranda's strength of will to stand upright.

Ben's heart filled with an overwhelming sense of pride and admiration for Miranda as she stood panting and exhausted at his side. He reached for her hand by instinct and was startled to feel her squeeze him back, her touch reassured Ben and conveyed a shared trust. The sound of flags waving in the wind was the only thing disturbing the absolute silence emanating from the crowd. Miranda raised her head and looked out for the first time to the familiar faces of her soldiers. No one was laughing or pointing like in her nightmares, instead she saw expressions awe and wonder, and even a few tears in the eyes of her comrades.

"My brothers and sisters in arms, please hear my words!" Miranda felt uplifted by the outpouring of positive emotions from the crowd. "Have we not fought shoulder to shoulder against the rising tide of our enemy? Have we not bled and mourned the loss of our friends on countless occasions? Have we forgotten why we've endured on this wretched piece of land for so long? Are we not loyal to the Empire, to her citizens and to her ideals?" The troops turned and nodded to each other, remembering what they had accomplished over the years and what they fought to preserve.

"I stand here wounded in battle, a wound I would take a hundred times again if it secured our victory. I fought for you, I fought for what I believed was right, and I fought for the Empire! I have ordered you into battle and to die, but you understood that I had no other option. Every casualty report I receive is a blow to my heart. Every letter I write to inform a family of a loss saps my spirit. But I endure. I have faith that what we're doing here is in the best interests of the Empire and her peoples. I carry out my orders the same as you carry out yours. We are soldiers, we defend the land, we fight for our survival."

Miranda took a few deep breaths and saw the effect she was having on the throng of troops. Cries of support rang out from nameless mouths and the nods of approval had turned into a buzz of excitement. She steeled herself and shouted above the noise one last time to bring the crowd together.

"We will fall back for the chance of gaining more ground in the days ahead. We will draw the enemy close to maximize their losses. You will all bear witness to a glorious new weapon that will change the balance of this war. We will fight, we will win, and history will write your names alongside the greatest heroes of Tanos. For the Empire! For VICTORY!"

The air exploded with cheers of victory. The force of it carried out onto the plains and boosted the hearts of each Empire soldier it reached. This was true unity of purpose. From this day onward, no soldier would slack in their duty, no soldier would question an order, and no enemy could weaken their resolve.

---

Ben carried Miranda back to the commander's bunker after the last soldiers had dispersed. Roxy and Jim brought Worthy to the medical tent against his wishes but in compliance with Dr. Tannen's orders. The doctor wanted to keep Miranda under observation as well, but one of the perks of command was being able to disobey doctor's orders. So Miranda got her way and was looking forward to sleeping in her own cot again. Jim started to follow them to the bunker but Roxy held him back, knowing that Ben needed some time alone with Miranda.

The encampment was bustling in activity and each soldier Ben and Miranda passed by stopped to salute and offer help. But Ben didn't need assistance; he could have carried Miranda to the ends of the earth after her performance. She rescued him during his time of need and turned the sour mood of the brigade into a morale boosting experience. Her speech showed how much Ben had to learn about influencing soldiers and how little he knew about her inner strength. Although her physical wounds were healing quickly, he thought Miranda's self-confidence would take much longer to recover.

Ben looked down at the cream-colored panther he held in his arms and marveled at Miranda's uncanny ability to appear in charge even while being carried. Her authoritative presence was restored, if not somewhat muted due to the weakness of her body. The slight smile on Miranda's face spoke volumes about her satisfaction of a job well done more than any kind words Ben could offer. He felt differently somehow, like mere admiration wasn't a strong enough emotion to encapsulate his true feelings. Their friendship had always remained chaste and respectful in the past, but ever since Ben saw Miranda cry in shame of her body rather than pain, his feelings for her grew deeper. It was too much to ask if she felt anything for Ben in return, they had been friends too long for him to risk pushing her away with the idea of a relationship.

The reinforced door of the commander's bunker opened slowly as Ben pushed on the handle. They entered to find Specialist Lynn in a corner setting up a desk. Ben had forgotten about the new arrival and Miranda introduced the orderly before asking him to give them some privacy. Lynn apologized profusely and left the bunker to find his tent.

The low wattage light bathed the circular room in a soft glow and Miranda pointed past the dividing wall that hid her cot and personal effects. Ben put his arm around her shoulders to hold her up and ease the transition from walking to lying down in bed. He leaned the crutches against the rear wall and started to leave the room but was stopped by a single question.

"Ben, why are you so good to me?"

He shifted nervously from foot to foot, considering his answer. "Because I'm your friend, and I couldn't bear watching you wallow in misery."

"I thought you'd... I thought everyone would see me differently, would think I'm some kind of freak. I kept having these nightmares where everyone was pointing and laughing at me. But when I saw you in trouble today, I had to help, I even didn't think about what I was doing until it happened."

"I really screwed things up, didn't I? I went over my speech with Roxy, Jim and Worthy last night and they all thought it would work. Turns out, giving orders to commanders is much different than addressing the whole brigade. I'm glad you were there to salvage the situation. You were... perfect."

"I spoke from my heart." Miranda admitted. "If I've learned anything about what soldiers want to hear its honesty and heartfelt sentiment. Once I saw their awe-struck faces, the words just came out naturally."

"Now you know, Mir, why I'm so devoted to you. I would follow you anywhere, into any battle, against any force, regardless if it was just the two of us. You make us better soldiers, and give us confidence to believe in what we're doing. I love... that quality in you." Ben's face reddened as he tried to cover up the near admission of his true feelings.

Miranda continued on, not reacting to Ben's slip up. "Thanks for sticking with me Ben. You saw me at my worst and didn't back away. I don't know how I could have made it through this week without you. I'm glad that you're my... OWWW!" She grabbed the side of her stomach and doubled over in pain.

Ben saw a trickle of blood seep out between Miranda's fingers, and her dark green shirt turned red as the trickle grew into a serious flow. Something had happened, something bad.

"I'll get the doctor! Hold on Mir!" Ben got up and ran to the door while Miranda groaned on her bed. He couldn't lose her now! She was getting better, she was almost whole!

Hold on Mir, please, hold on.

---

The dark clothed figure danced from shadow to shadow avoiding the random beams of light from passing guards. It was so easy for him to go unnoticed; he was built for this kind of work. His pitch black fur seemed to absorb light and his large paws made no sound on the uneven ground. If someone looked in his direction, the compact panther could press himself against the ground and disappear among the surrounding rocks and vegetation. Garren Pritchard was the League's best infiltrator and acted solely in his best interests, regardless of his official orders. The loud cheers he heard from the Empire army earlier today had certainly peaked his interest.

So Garren came here, within the perimeter of the Empire encampment searching for clues to what caused a whole army to shout for joy. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good news for the League. But in Garren's mind, the news didn't matter; the chase was all that concerned him. The thrill of being this close to the enemy compelled him to take risks to test his abilities, from throwing a rock to distract a guard to standing under a lamp for 30 full seconds. No one saw him, no one suspected he existed. He was in his element and each movement he took was calculated and deliberate. The entire experience took on an almost erotic feel and Garren could sense a heat rise in him.

A group of three soldiers rounded a corner startling Garren from his self-absorption. The shallow gully provided enough cover for him to remain hidden so he instead concentrated on making out what they were talking about.

"...can't wait to take it to 'em! They're gonna be crushed!"

"Oh, shut it Brogan. We don't know anything yet. All I know is that we'll be digging new trenches for days at the new position. The Colonel puts on a good show, but we're the ones who will be doing all the work."

"Think about it though Higgins. We're going to be part of history, making history! That counts for something, doesn't it? And what about..."

The three figures disappeared behind a low building and their voices were lost to the night air. Garren considered going after them, but thought better of it and resumed his search for some kind of physical evidence. He couldn't go back to his commanders with vague rumors, he needed proof. So he navigated through the maze of buildings and tents looking for a communications hub or where the senior officers gathered for briefings.

Garren was about to give up when he heard a moan of pain coming from a low, circular building across from his position. The building looked like some kind of bunker, but he couldn't make out any details in the poor light. It might be a medical facility, and if he could capture a doctor it would be easy to extract the information he needed. There was no cover between him and the building so he opted for boldness when stealth wasn't available. He walked with purpose to the door and entered as if he belonged there.

"Ben? Dr. Tannen? Is that you?" A strained feminine voice called out from behind a wall. She sounded distressed, but this room had nothing to do with medicine. Garren hit the jackpot, he found the commander's briefing room, and by the sound of it, someone, a clerk most likely, was in pain hidden from view. He said nothing and walked silently to find out who was behind the dividing wall. What he found was beyond his wildest expectations.

Garren stared at the cream colored panther lying in a cot who was unwrapping blood soaked bandages from around her waist. He recognized her at once.

"Why, it's the 'Bullet Dancer' in the flesh. I've heard so much about you!"