# The Karn Dominion, The Hybrid War, Tony the Cougar

Author: Hinny Mule
Tags: Alien, Cougar, Dog, Goat, M/F, Transformation

The Karn Dominion, The Hybrid War  
Tony the Cougar  
By  
William W. Kelso  
  
I lifted my head briefly and took a quick look. The Krill laager was about two hundred  
yards away where they'd set up in an old highway rest stop for the night. It was almost  
dark but that didn't bother me, my night vision is excellent. I remained perfectly still, my  
dun colored fur mixing in perfectly with the tall grass, and the only thing that moved was  
the tip of my tail, slowly flicking back and forth, I can't control the damn thing when I'm  
hunting! I made my decision. These guys are going down, I thought with relish. Their  
security was lax, and there was plenty of cover, more than enough for me and my  
commandos to get close. And I was very curious as to what was in those supply hover  
trucks. The Krill would never know what hit them.  
  
My name was Tony, and I had been a part-time Wal-Mart employee (associate) when t  
he plagues that preceded the Karn invasion had hit. I had been visiting some friends at  
their ranch near Dallas, and we had all become infected before we could return home.  
For almost three weeks my friends and I had been in a state of terror as we had watched  
one another slowly turn into animals right before our eyes. We had watched as our  
bodies grew fur at first, then began to twist and form into new shapes. God it had hurt  
so bad! And we could do nothing to stop it or help one another. No one could. At best  
we tried to comfort one another, holding on tightly to our friends in our mutual terror.

  The alien mutagen viruses had attacked our very DNA, and reconfigured it to a new  
hybrid species. Of course we didn't know this until later. We had been lucky in that  
there had been plenty of food available, including a large meat locker full of sides of  
beef and deer since my friend's father ran a small dressing plant for hunters. And when  
the agony faded and sanity, or as close to it as possible, had returned we had been so  
confused and scared. I and my five friends had become cat-people, like something out  
a cheap B-Movie, but it was all too real. We had all become, as near as we could tell,  
part human and part Cougar or Mountain Lion! It was so very strange at first, but we  
quickly adapted to our new lives as best we could.  
  
The worst thing was we could no longer talk, or read and write! We couldn't even  
communicate with one another by writing something down! I would stare at a book  
knowing the marking meant something, but I just couldn't remember! But we quickly  
learned to read one another's body language, and the sounds and calls we made  
also made sense most of the time. Another thing we found was our senses had been  
greatly increased, especially our senses of smell and hearing. It was amazing how  
much information could be transmitted by scent alone. From just a urine marker we  
could tell the sex, age, and even the health of another feline! Plus the female's scents  
were enticing to say the least! We also came up with some hand signals that worked  
quite well, so we got along fairly well.  
  

  I had no way of knowing how we had been transformed, and we too busy just surviving  
the new terrifying world in which he found ourselves to really worry about it. It was an  
insane world of scared new animal species wandering the streets and countryside,  
terrified and not understanding what had happened. Later we would find that we had  
been created to serve alien invaders as intelligent livestock, and that they would have  
classified me as a "Stage 3 Human/Feline/Cougar/Male, Function: Guard/Tracker.  
I would have been used to guard property and facilities, or as a tracker to hunt down  
feral or run-away hybrids. We were very lucky, we escaped the initial round-ups when  
the Karn Colony ship arrived, to take possession of their new world and to prepare the  
way for their Masters.  
  
I'm approximately six feet tall and very lithe and muscular. I'm covered in tan/dun  
colored fur, darker on my back and sides and fading towards my belly. I'm bipedal,  
but my hind legs are those of the big cat I had become, but my arms are still mostly  
human except for the retractable claws in the ends of my fingers. I like the way my  
claws feel when they snick out and retract. I have no problem dropping down on all  
fours very comfortably, and I can move along the ground with my belly touching it with  
no discomfort. My head is entirely feline, with the short blunt fang filled muzzle of a  
carnivore. Like all Stage 3 hybrids I can't talk as my vocal cords are entirely feline,  
but I can make some very human sounds, mainly when I'm sad or unhappy. My full  
length tail is almost prehensile. I'm a natural predator, with all the instincts of my  
animal donor.  
  

  And my friends were just like me with minor variations in coloring. Three males and  
three females. The males are larger though. Our sexual organs are a cross between  
feline and human, and thankfully sex is not painful for us as it is for some natural felines.  
My penis is human shaped, but I carry it in a sheath, and am completely covered in fur.  
Our females have both human and feline mammaries, but their human breasts tend to  
be fairly small and firm with a downy fur covering. They are incredibly beautiful, and  
I just love to just watch them move  
  
After the food at the ranch ran out we had gone hunting, literally, for more food. It was  
obvious everything had collapsed, and we soon ran into other confused hybrids, but  
these were goats and deer, or even horses and bulls! The others were scared of us  
and would usually flee at our approach, even though we had no desire to hunt or hurt  
them. We knew they had been human too, and to kill them for food would have been  
murder. Plus they were just as scared and confused as we were. We did encounter  
a few other carnivores, but they had mostly been canines and we shared a mutual  
distrust, and being incapable of communicating in any way we had just backed off from  
one another and gone our separate ways.  
  

  Then we made our first feral kill a few days later. We were so hungry, and as our hunger  
grew the human part of us had retreated, and the predator had taken over. Our first kill  
was a natural cow, and it really wasn't much of a hunt to be honest. Still, we had stalked  
the cow through the tall grass and weeds, and managed to bring it down with little effort.  
Then we had feasted on the raw meat until our gnawing hunger was satisfied, and it had  
tasted so good! But afterwards when our human part had regained control we had been  
horrified at what we had done, and had held each other and cried . But it had been that  
or die as there was no other real source of food for us anymore. The stores had long  
been looted and cleaned out, and any meat left was too rotten even for us. But we soon  
accepted what we had to do, and quickly became skilled hunters and learned to love the  
thrill of the hunt. One Cougar by itself is formidable, as a pack we were terrifying.  
  
For almost five years we lived as little more than animals, predators, doing what we  
had to survive. Occasionally we encountered other felines, but they had their own packs  
and territories, so we mostly avoided other carnivores. The other hybrids, the herbivores,  
had mostly settled into large herds, and we left them alone. There was plenty of natural  
prey. We mated and had kittens, which grew up to be healthy young adults very rapidly.  
But we were sad they had never known any other life, and would grow up as wild animals.  
We still knew we had been something else once, had been human, and that part of us  
still remained.  
  

  Though living mainly as wild predators, the fact that we banded together was a human  
trait as large natural cats are loners. We marked out a territory and set up camps in  
old abandoned houses or other suitable places for the shelter. We had fires for light,  
but our thick fur really made them unnecessary for warmth. We used fire mainly  
because it was a way of reminding us that we had been intelligent civilized beings  
before our transformations. We don't wear any clothing other than a harness to carry  
our few possessions. Our nudity was of no concern to us, we simply didn't need clothes  
for any reason, but we do carry ponchos for rainy days. Wet cats are not happy, and  
a group of wet cats is not nice to be around.  
  
Then we found something new and unexpected. We had run across the trail of another  
feline crossing into our territory, and naturally we went to inspect. If this cat was just  
passing through that was allowed, but if it intended to set up in our territory the fur would  
fly. We tracked it to an abandoned farm house, and moved in to confront it as a group.  
And we were shocked to meet our first Stage 2 hybrid feline! The Stage 2 hybrids had  
been designed to be managers and administrative slaves, to basically be go-betweens  
between Stage 3 and higher hybrids and their masters. Because of this and their need  
to be able to speak intelligibly their physical changes were less than ours, but they  
could understand us perfectly as they have many of the same instincts.  
  

  We burst in on her, she was female, and nearly scared the poor thing to death. She  
had immediately assumed a non-threatening submissive posture, and had also begged  
us "Please don't hurt me!" which had shocked US! After getting over the shock of hearing  
a voice, more or less human, for the first time in almost five years we also assumed  
non-threatening postures and introduced ourselves. I can't explain how we did to a non  
feline, but within a few minutes she knew, and we knew, that we had found a new friend  
and  
pack member.  
  
We found out her name was Tiny, and she was smaller than our females, but very pretty  
and exquisite. She was about five feet tall, and had a full fur coat and tail, but her muzzle  
was very short and the rest of her body was much more human then feline. She had lovely  
sleek black fur and blue eyes. She knew our names, or at least our feline names for one  
another, which can't really be translated. She had been a bus driver for the local school  
district before her change, and we were the first other feline hybrids she had encountered.  
And she was pitiful, half starved and weak as she just wasn't as good a hunter as the  
Stage 3 hybrids, and being alone was a big drawback too. So we adopted her and she  
became a most valued member of the pack, and her being able to care for the kits allowed  
us all to go hunting at the same time. But after a few weeks a problem did arise.  
  

  We all noticed it at about the same time, she was going into heat! And of course all the  
males were interested, but we were all happily mated, and the young were just too young!  
We knew she was miserable, she would go off by herself and mope, and would lash out  
at anyone who came near. And we knew she had been alone over the years and had  
never mated, and felt sorry for her. It's a horrible thing to be alone with a need like that,  
especially for a hybrid. And finally since I was the alpha male and in charge, it was  
decided it was up to me to console her! I never even got to vote! At first I refused as  
I was happily mated, but even my own mate insisted. So it became my duty to seduce  
her and add her to my new harem! I had mixed feelings, but I lie if I say I wasn't very  
interested in her, all the males could smell her need! We did not consider it wrong or  
adultery in any way, to us it was a perfectly natural need.  
  
At first she refused my advances, but as her need continued to grow she finally gave in  
and accepted me for her mate. She was so scared at first as it was something totally  
new for her. But I was very gentle, starting by just grooming her. I licked her muzzle  
and face, brushing and rubbing softly and sensually against her body with my own,  
caressing her with my tail. Soon we were both giving throaty purrs of mutual pleasure  
as we got to know one another. We ran combs through one another's fur, and the  
feeling was delightful. She has the most beautiful black fur, like crushed velvet! I loved  
to just rub my nose in her fur and take in her scent, like crushed mint! Our courtship  
was a mixed combination of human and feline, but as it progressed it became more  
intense and the human part slowly receded. I ran my tongue over her human breasts  
which were much fuller and larger, more human than a Stage 3 feline. I felt her nipples  
grow hard from my licking, and she began to make soft purring and mewling sounds,  
and from her scent I knew she was ready. But I did not mount her yet, I kept gently  
rubbing and caressing her for a while longer as I wanted her to make the offer. It is not  
a good idea, even for a Cougar, to try and force yourself on an unwilling female! Then  
with a yowl she pulled away from my embrace and dropped to all fours. I didn't need  
a second invitation, so I mounted her and pinned her with my arms. I must have  
outweighed her by close to a hundred pounds, so I was as careful as I could be under  
the circumstances. I reached back to help guide myself into her, and once I was seated  
I pushed into her with powerful thrusts of my hindquarters, and she yowled in pain and  
pleasure. She was ready for me, but I was very large and it was her first time. I slowed  
down some to let her stretch more to accommodate me better, which didn't take very  
long much to my relief! And soon I was in her to the hilt, and began energetically  
humping her with steady powerful thrusts. And oh how tight she was!  
  

  We coupled under the night sky, giving yowls of mutual sexual ecstasy as we ground  
against one another. And believe me, felines are NOT quiet lovers! We most likely  
scared anything within a mile or two half to death! And it was glorious! She stayed in  
heat for several more days, and we were left alone and secluded in our pleasure, and  
whenever we were temporarily spent she would crawl into my embrace, and I would  
gently groom her face and ears with my tongue while we rested. And when we were  
through I had a new mate, and we were both very pleased with one another.  
  
When we finally went back to the main camp the others complained that they hadn't  
gotten much sleep during the last few days! And it's not like they hadn't added their  
own choruses to the racket! Of course I had to make it up to my first mate, but that  
was fine with me! I soon found that having two loving mates was very nice indeed!  
  
And then we got another shock that would completely change things again, it would  
give us our human names and identities back, and we would finally learn what had  
happened to us, and why! I met Colonel Roth, a huge Shire horse stallion hybrid and  
several of his soldiers when they entered our territory on a scouting patrol. I was by  
myself at the time, on a regular patrol of my own to check our territorial markings and  
refresh them with my urine. It was how we let other felines and animals know they  
were entering our territory, and to stay out! I smelled them first as they were upwind,  
so I went into "stealth" mode and tracked them. And when I finally got close enough  
to see them I was really surprised, no, I was shocked! For one thing the Shire stallion  
was huge! One of the biggest hybrids I'd seen yet, he must have pushed 1200 pounds!  
And there were carnivores with herbivores! There were six soldiers in the patrol. The  
colonel, an equally huge bull, two canine hybrids, a goat Ram, and a Donkey! And  
they were all wearing ammo bandoliers and were armed with weapons! And I almost  
jumped up in surprise when I realized they were TALKING to one another, in English!  
But I kept my cool, and decided to sneak in a little closer to take a better look at the  
weird scene! But they were very alert and I blew it. One of the canines, or as I later  
found out a wolf, suddenly looked intently in my direction and let out a deep growl, then  
said,  
  

  "Colonel, we got a visitor! A big cat! He's by that rock at our forty!"  
  
I let out a deep growl of my own in response to the wolf's challenge, but stayed still.  
The huge horse put his weapon down, and approached me with open hands. I could  
tell he was a little nervous as his ears kept flicking around trying to catch any sounds,  
but he walked up until he wasn't very far away. I watched him approach and gave  
another growl when I thought he was close enough. Then he spoke to me!  
  
"If we're in your territory we apologize, we mean no harm!"  
  
And as he talked I realized it wasn't really coming from his mouth, but from a collar  
around his neck. The voice was coming from a disk or medallion on the collar, and  
it was a deep rolling baritone.  
  
"That's right he said, we can talk, and so can you if you want!"  
  
When I heard that I did jump up, and assumed a non-threatening sitting posture. Oh  
God, I thought, to be able to talk again!  
  
"It's these collars, he said. We get them from the aliens, don't know how they work  
but if you're a Stage 3 you'll be able to talk again too."  
  

  Collars, aliens, I thought?? Then he reached into a pouch on his belt, and took out  
some more of the collars!  
  
"Hmm, he said, you look like about a size green, here you go!"  
  
And he tossed one of the collars to within my reach. Hesitantly I picked it up and  
sniffed it, looking it over.  
  
"Put it on!, the horse said, then think about what you want to say. Don't use your  
vocal cords, just think about what you want to say."  
  
I slipped the collar over my head, and the elastic like band was a nice fit. I looked at  
him, and tried to say something, but all that came out was garbled nonsense.  
  
"Slow down! You have to get used to it! Now, let's start out small. What's your  
name?"  
  
"T-T-uh, grrr! T-Tony!" I managed to say! "M-m-my name is TONY!" And I can't  
describe what it was like to be able to talk again after all that time! I went from being  
a dumb animal to being an intelligent being again in just a few seconds! With a sob  
I ran up to that wonderful huge horse, crying "Thank you, Thank you!' and hugged  
him as hard as I could!  
  

  He just laughed and said, "Watch the claws buddy!"  
  
Embarrassed I retracted my claws and stepped back to look at him in awe. His  
soldiers were watching me with big shit eating grins on their muzzles,  
  
"Feels good don't it!" said a Goat.  
  
"I, I , don't , I, how can I Thank you!" I managed to say, and unable to help myself  
I hugged him again, and this time he returned it and nuzzled my head and held me  
while I mewed and cried like a little kitten. And they all gave me hugs and introduced  
their selves and told me "welcome back". And the little Donkey dried off my faced  
with a towel he produced from his medic's bag. What a wuss I was!  
  
And that's how I met Colonel Roth and joined the resistance. The whole pack did,  
and there was no hesitation or regrets. He gave us all collars, even the kits and soon  
they were able to talk too! He gave us back everything we had been before. For the  
first time in years I heard my mate and friends speak again, and we met so many  
others and had so much catching up to do! He told us about what had been done to  
us, and how, and why.  
  

  That the Earth had been invaded and conquered without firing a shot by a race of aliens  
called the Karn, and they had transformed us for their use in colonizing our own planet.  
Had destroyed our civilization and turned us into intelligent animals for their use as they  
saw fit, and we were less than slaves. And our hatred slowly grew, and cats hold  
a grudge like you wouldn't believe.  
  
The resistance was glad to have us as there were far fewer felines and other carnivores  
then herbivores. And I was amazed at how well the carnies and browsers got along!  
There was little, if any, conflict! Despite our forms we still saw one another as equal  
members of the same race. And while the others made good soldiers or performed  
other vital duties, we felines had very special abilities that were priceless. Only a cat  
can get close enough to a kill an enemy without them even knowing they're being killed.  
We became scouts for the resistance, both the males and females. And Tiny was  
priceless too, she was one of only six Stage 2 hybrids in the whole resistance at that  
point. She became one of our best spies, but I worried so much when my black beauty  
was away! The kits stayed with my mate Tiny while we were in the field, or there were  
plenty of others to watch them if she had to go on a mission too.  
  

  We were formed into Commandos, and trained intensely with one another and the  
other hybrids. We met other species of hybrid felines and canines, and plenty of  
herbivore species. We all lived in scattered base camps, and moved around on a  
regular basis to keep the enemy from pinpointing our location. Then finally I was  
through with my training, and my first mate Cindy and I were assigned to our first  
field unit.  
  
Our purpose was mainly scouting, but we could also take out "targets of opportunity"  
if the risk was minimal. There were twelve of us in the unit, called Special Commando  
7. In addition to myself and Cindy there were two other felines, both males. A Puma  
named George, and an honest to God Leopard named Bridget. There were also two  
canines named Butch and Roger, and the remaining four were goats. There was one  
ram named Bruce, and three ewes named Ruth, Flowers (don't ask me, she sure didn't  
smell like flowers!), and Sally. Our medic was a Donkey named Bernie. Almost all  
medics were Donkeys or Ponies, they had been designed to care for other hybrids,  
so were perfect for the role. Our last team member was another Goat named Henry,  
but he was a different hybrid species from the other four Goats. He was our radioman.  
He was the only Stage 2, all the rest of us were Stage 3's.  
  

  We felines were the scouts, we always had point and flank security, and we considered  
that a point of honor. The two dog soldiers were heavy weapons and demo, and the  
Goats were our basic infantry support. You might think Goats wouldn't make good  
soldiers, but you'd be very wrong. They could run and dodge and bound and leap like  
you wouldn't believe, and were almost impossible to track and hit with any weapon.  
Millions of years of evolution spent avoiding and outrunning predators made them  
natural soldiers. Give a goat a weapon and he's a fair match for just about anything,  
and their horns and hooves are nothing to sniff at. I got kicked by a pissed off goat  
once and it broke my leg. It is virtually impossible to sneak up on an alert Goat or  
other browser as almost all of them have 360 peripheral vision. Like most carnies  
I have a limited field of forward oriented vision so I can concentrate on my prey. It  
must be weird to have 360 vision though, but anytime I asked a browser they just  
said it didn't bother them after the first few days following their transformations.  
I remembered about how "normal" I'd come to feel within a short time after my own  
change, so I could understand what they meant.  
  

  So we trained together, lived together, and fought together. And we became a crack  
team, and I came to love each and every one of them, even the smelly goats! We  
depended on, and needed each other. Our job was to basically remain in the field  
and gather intelligence, contact and try to recruit other hybrids, and to take out enemy  
units if the opportunity presented itself. Kind of like an extended patrol, we only came  
back to a base camp if we needed supplies or had some really hot info.  
  
Once when I had been separated and wounded after an attack that went south big  
time, they had stayed behind to search for me for days. Bernie found me and patched  
me up, and the rest took turns carrying me back to base camp, even though I weighed  
more than any of them except George. We watched out for one another, and we never  
left anyone behind unless it was just impossible to retrieve their body if they'd been  
killed.  
  
On one of our first actions I really screwed the pooch (no insult intended to my canine  
buddies). It was one our first real attacks against the enemy, and I guess my impatience  
and inexperience were the main reason I opened fire without really thinking, that and my  
hunting instincts had kicked in.  
  

  We had set up to ambush a supply convoy to get feed for the herbivores. It was high  
summer and most of their forage was drying up and losing a lot of its nutritional value.  
I saw one of the Donkey wagon drivers stand up and thought we'd been spotted, so  
I opened up, and that set off other members of the ambush team. When it was over  
we were horrified to find the convoy had been made up of only equine hybrids, and was  
unescorted. And we had slaughtered them.  
  
I remembered how mad Colonel Roth had been, especially at me for pulling such  
a stupid boner, but he had forgiven me as he was a professional soldier. Then he  
had roamed the area after the massacre, and even though he thought we didn't notice  
it was impossible not to hear him grieving for the dead Donkeys and Mules. I'll never  
forget how he took the Donkey driver I had killed, and held him like a baby, and cried  
and cried and grieved as both a horse and a man. He tried to console the dead drivers  
Mule team mates who were frantic. Equines really love one another, they form bonds  
that I can't explain.  
  

  And a Donkey who's team mates I had killed, even though badly wounded himself, had  
attacked me and kicked the snot out of me until I threw him off. I was going to kill him  
with my fangs and claws for that, but the other team members stopped me, and boy did  
they rake me over the coals!  
  
Later as I came to realize the true horror of what I had done, that I had murdered gentle  
helpless equines that were no threat, I went off into the brush by myself and holding my  
head in my hands I had cried and mewled. I had sobbed with my whole body shaking  
for a long time and had hated myself.  
  
Later when I went back to the convoy Col. Roth and Tina, our Goat medic, had been  
tending to the Donkey who had attacked me. I had looked down at the two mules I'd  
killed, and on impulse I had reached down and cut their name tags off their harness.  
They said Rob and Bob, and had been crudely hand embossed with little flowers around  
their names. The Donkey hated me at first, and tried to get at me more than once. But  
when I gave him the name tags, and he saw how truly sorry I was, he had forgiven me.  
Then he had consoled ME while I cried again. How he could ever forgive me for killing  
his team mates I'll never understand. His name is Brad. He was our unit medic now,  
and one of my best friends. More than once I'd watched him go the aid of a wounded  
buddy with total disregard for his own safety. And he saved my life on more than one  
occasion. We called him our Guardian Angel, when he couldn't hear us!  
  

  I finished my recon, and keeping low I slowly moved away from the Krill patrol. I left by  
a different route, just as carefully and quietly as I had approached. We'd hit them during  
the early morning, about two hours before sun up. Being reptiles, even though warm  
blooded, they‘d be a little sluggish around then. They were members of one of the many  
slave, or subservient, races the Karn had conquered over who knows how many millennia.  
So long ago they can't even remember a time when they didn't serve their Karn masters.  
  
They looked a lot like raptors, but with very human like arms. They had nasty claws on  
their feet and four fingered hands, in addition to their nasty fangs. They went nude like  
we did, but the only way you tell their sex was the males were slightly larger and had  
darker colorings. Their colorings ranged from common greens and browns to an almost  
cobalt blue. They did wear body armor, combat harness, and other military gear. They  
were excellent soldiers, and rarely gave up without a vicious fight. It was best to kill them  
suddenly from ambush, or from a distance. Getting within reach of those claws and fangs  
was not a good thing, even to a carnie like myself. And their skin was tough and leathery,  
hard to penetrate even with claws. Fortunately they were about the size of ostriches, if  
they have been T-Rex size they would have had us for snacks. But they were garrison  
troops, and more used to semi-police and security duties then actual combat, and so far  
they had no real idea of what was happening. They would have a hard time accepting that  
livestock was fighting back! So they were very complacent at first, and we kept our  
activities to a minimum to start with. But that had changed, and we were starting to take  
out small isolated units, especially if we thought they had equipment we could use. We  
had good intel from a Stage 2 spy that this small convoy was loaded with veterinary  
supplies, which we desperately needed.  
  

  I arrived back at the small bivouac we'd set up in a washed out stream bed. The banks  
were high enough to give us plenty of cover, and there were trees for shade. Before I got  
there I ran into the Puma named George, never even saw him until I almost stepped on  
him. He added a whole new meaning to the word "sneaky". I gave him the quick rundown,  
and he gave a smile that scared even me a little bit. He was even bigger then I was, and  
no one messed with him. The other felines were on perimeter security, but the rest of  
team was taking it easy.  
  
I had Henry get HQ on the radio, I told them the situation, and they gave the green light  
and said go for it. They'd send a couple of wagons to help haul off whatever our loot was.  
Then we settled down for a meal and rest as we had several hours to wait before moving  
out for our attack.  
  
I'd been looking forward to dinner all day as I had lucked into some old, but still good  
cans, of Fancy Feast cat food. It was Tuna, my all time favorite! I opened a pouch of  
MRE scalloped potatoes, then popped the lid off the can of Fancy Feast and started to  
mix it in. And almost instantly Bruce, the Goat Ram, suddenly lifted up his head and  
flared his nostrils, and looked around in distaste.  
  

  "OH my GOD! He said, what IS that smell!" The other Goats quickly picked up the  
scent of my lovely dinner too. "PU! What the hell is that!", "What died!"  
  
Seeing the source of the foul smell they chorused: "You're not going to EAT that  
are you! GROSS!"  
  
"Beats grass!" I said!  
  
"Bite me!" said Bruce.  
  
I looked at him and said, "You offering?" He made a rather rude noise, so I added ,  
"Naw, I don't think I will, you goats are too tough and stringy!  
  
About this time Berniecame trotting by, holding his nose and making gagging noises,  
"Ack, Ack, AAAWW!!"  
  
"Hey, I said, it's not my fault you guys can't appreciate fine cuisine! And I took a big  
mouthful, and chewed with my mouth open with pieces of it falling out, "MMMM! Yum  
Yum!"  
  
Bruce pretended to pass out, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. The other Goats  
were all bleating in disgust "AWWW, Man, that is just NASTY!" "You stay away from  
me, you've got mental problems!" The rest were holding their noises and making  
very creative grossed-out noises.  
  
And the whole time Henry was trying not to crack up, and losing the battle.  
  

  About this time Bridget, attracted by the noise, came wandering over and asked  
"Mmm, smells good, can I have some?" Which set the Goats off again,  
  
"Ohhh! Gross!!" "I'm gonna puke!". Bruce pretended to wake up, and when I offered  
the pouch to him, he pretended to pass out again.  
  
Then I started chasing them around, "Come on!" I said, "Just try a bite, you'll love it!"  
  
Bernie was staggering around making horrible puking noise like he was dying, and even  
the canines were holding their noses.  
  
Roger had found a great big spider somewhere, and dropped it on Sally's head, which  
freaked her out and she was dancing around screaming and bleating, "Get if off! Get  
it off! BAAAAAA!!"  
  
And by this time Henry was rolling around on the ground totally helpless with laughter,  
so I went over to him and held the pouch next to his nose. He took one whiff, his eyes  
flew open, and he jumped up with a loud "BAAAA!" And ran off yelling, "Get awaay from  
me! That's siiick!" He bleated.  
  
And after running a few feet he tripped over a rock and fell face first into a big slimy  
mud puddle. Everyone froze for a second, but when he stood up covered in mud with  
slime all over his head and dripping from his horns we all totally lost it. I pointed and  
tried to say something, but had to collapse as I was laughing so hard it hurt. It was  
the funniest thing I'd ever seen! And then he came over and shook himself off all over  
the rest of us, mud and slime flying everywhere. And after that we had no choice but  
to thrown Henry back in the mud puddle, despite his fierce resistance.  
  

  For a long time the stream bed echoed to the sounds of helpless bleats, brays, yowls,  
growls, and other sounds of hybrid hilarity. We're lucky the Karn didn't hear us, but  
even if they had what would they have thought? It sounded more like a massacre than  
anything else. And after the mayhem had ended we all settled down for a short nap.  
  
Bruce and Henry snuggled up with the ewes in a big pile with Bernie on top. Browsers!  
I thought. The felines and canines not on duty curled up under trees or bushes, and  
we all fell asleep. That was how we were, we all loved each other.  
  
Our approach to the Krill camp was slow and careful. Just because their security was  
crap didn't mean one alert trooper couldn't pick one of us up by sight or on a scanner.  
But I wasn't too worried about scanners as there were plenty of natural cows and other  
animals in the area, and we'd just show up as one of them. That's one advantage to  
being more animal then human, no way to tell us apart on scanners. Plus we were  
well spread out. The other felines and I approached the camp from all four sides. Our  
main job was to neutralize the sentries and take out the com center before they could  
call for help.  
  

  Butch and Roger, the two canines, set up their old WWII vintage .30 cal MG on a small  
rise overlooking the camp, their job was to give us what support they could when the  
main battle started, and to cover us if we had to bug out. The Goats and Bernie stayed  
in reserve, they'd move up when the action started.  
  
The felines all had silenced pistols and combat knives, but we often just used our  
natural weapons. There is something very fulfilling about ripping out an enemies throat  
with your fangs. It took us almost two hours to infiltrate as close as we could, but by  
our very nature we were very patient. I waited until the sentry I'd been assigned to take  
out walked past again and he never saw me as I rose up behind him. I reached around  
with one hand and held his muzzle shut, and slit his throat with my combat knife, and  
held him. The only sound he made was the air escaping from the gaping wound in his  
throat as he died. I gently lowered him to the ground and hid his body behind some  
bushes. I heard a brief noise from the other side of the camp, and knew my mate had  
dispatched her own sentry. Then dropping to the ground I slowly crawled on all fours  
toward what was obviously the com tent from the antennas and dish set up next to it.  
I could hear the sound of a couple of Krill talking in their hissing, clacking, whistling  
voices and the sound of a radio playing some weird music.  
  

  I stood up and stepped into the tent. "Hello Boys", I said, and all they had time to  
do was gape at me with their mouths open before I shot them both with my silencer  
equipped Beretta 9mm. Then I stayed just inside the entrance of the tent and waited,  
knife in hand. It wasn't much of a fight, only one Krill got off a few rounds from his rifle  
before George tore his head off, and no one was even hit.  
  
There was one slightly hairy moment when one Krill we'd missed rose up from behind  
a truck with an LMG in his claws, but Flowers came bounding over the hood of the truck  
and nearly took his head off with a machete. That is one mean ewe! Score was Krill 0,  
Home Team 23. Not bad.  
  
It was a text book perfect operation, and I knew the Colonel would be proud of us. The  
canines moved their MG to cover the road, and we called in the rest of the team, the  
other felines disappearing into the night to recon the area. And Bernie, bless his little  
heart, went around and checked all the Krill to see if any were wounded, making sad  
little noises when none were. He was a healer, and even enemy dead upset him some.  
I've seen him cry when he couldn't save a wounded Krill or Tawn. Like I said, he was  
our Guardian Angel. But he cheered up a lot when he stuck his head in the back of  
the hover trucks. "Jackpot!" he brayed.  
  

  It was a fantastic haul! Enough vet supplies, equipment, and medicine to keep us set  
up for months or even longer! Scanners, portable operating tables large enough for  
even equine hybrids, bandages, artificial living skin grafts, medicines of every kind,  
operating instruments, and on and on! Less than an hour later the wagons arrived,  
and we quickly loaded up our ill gotten booty and headed for the hills and back to camp.  
We left the Krill weapons and most of the other equipment as it was useless to us. Krill  
scanners could track the power sources. About all we took was the body armor as it  
would fit some of us, and the Krill rations which were pretty damn good. They were  
blocks of compressed meat like jerky, and we carnies love the stuff, much to the  
disgust of our browser buddies! But Butch, our lupine demo expert, stayed behind for  
a little while longer and left some surprises for the Krill when they found the wiped out  
convoy. "Boom" he said to himself, an evil smile on his face. He liked what he did!  
  

  When we got back to camp we were welcomed like conquering heroes! After a big  
hearty "Well done!" from Col. Ross, which made us all swell with pride, we were given  
a big party. There was great food for everybody including a roast natural cow for just  
us carnies. And of course soon I was chasing the Goats around while I gnawed on  
a great big bone and they hurled insults at me. Col. Roth almost fell over he was  
neighing and laughing so hard. Eventually they ganged up on me and threw me in  
a water trough from which I emerged spitting and hissing, looking like a drowned rat.  
And everyone just lost it at my look of injured dignity as I stood there dripping.  
  
Finally my mates took pity on me and we disappeared into the night so we could  
groom and dry me off and pursue other interesting activities. And as the party wound  
down sooner or later just about everyone paired off with their mates or other partners  
for the night. The Rams Bruce and Henry each had at least half a dozen ewes following  
them around by then, the ewes instinctively recognizing desirable virile males. The  
lucky bastards!  
END  
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Source: https://sofurry.com/s/B1QYWgv1