Chief Operational Officer Zhenka was a Jackal Canid, shorter and sleeker than the larger Canids with a narrow and pointed muzzle and dark tawny beige coat of fur. He wore a black overcoat and a matching peaked crusher cap that he adjusted as he came into the room. He looked much more like a military leader than a corporate officer, but on Titan, these things were mostly the same.
“Sir we…” One of the other board members began, but was silenced by a single finger from the C.O.O.
“In the last fifty-two hours, there have been several rebel attacks in Kallerish City.” The intense Jackal began, his eyes darting from Titan to Titan like a fierce predator. “The last report I have just received says that our detention facility in East Alton has been attacked. There was a complete loss of both personnel and prisoners.” He said with a dangerous sneer in his muzzle.
As the Canid C.O.O. paused to let the statement sink into the round table full of board members, there was a knock on the door. A small ratling poked a nervous head into the meeting and spoke.
“Sir, we have some of the statistics you were asking for. I’ll patch it into your personal Cloud server.”
“Now, can anyone tell me why…” The Jackal continued after a nod to the ratling. “These rebels have not been found and ripped to shreds by now?”
Zhenka was a fierce Titan who came with a long list of credentials from across the whole of Titan. He had served in the occupation of Gunrock and Ocelan and had quelled rebellions on the Rook Coast and the Federated Territories. But for all his achievements, he knew that a single screw up could still cost his life if the CEO of Zenith Corp heard of the situation.
A squat, fat little Marsupia Wombat dressed in a vest and tie stood up from his chair and adjusted his spectacles.
“My analytic team has run the incidents into a database, and we can be fairly confident that the main inciters of this rebel nonsense can be traced back to here.” The little Wombat spoke in a deep gentletitanly voice as he brought up a holodisplay over the table.
The Marsupia zoomed in on a GPS map of the city and pointed at a single city block. Within this city block were several shops, and a glowing highlight marked the incident where the previous night’s riot had occurred with the street performer that had somehow escaped capture.
“There are only two AstroBlocs in the sector, Golden Groves and Towerview Center. Our best predictive analytics say that the leaders of this instigator group will be holed up in one of these two places.”
“Well that’s a start.” The Canid commander replied. “Rymond…” He then addressed another Canid seated at the table.
This fierce looking Lycaon type Canid was larger and more solidly built, though still relatively lean, with pointed outsized ears. His short-fur coat pattern was a blazing bright mixture of painted brown, black and white. His eyes were dark and shifty, with the distinct predatory look of an eager born killer. As the Chief Security Officer for the Trade Alliance, indeed he had proved to be many times in the past. Rymond wore a simple blue uniform, unadorned save for a single symbol on the back representing the symbol of the Trade Alliance, a black circle with an upside-down “V” pointing towards the middle of the circle.
“I need you to take in a Division of troops, track down these rebels and rip them to shreds. Are we clear?”
Rymond stood with his clawed hands on the table and grinned fervently from ear to ear, a row of wickedly sharp teeth on display that made some of the other non-predatory Titans present squirm uncomfortably in their seats. He said nothing, but simply turned and left the meeting. Rymond was a special breed of Titan and lived exclusively for the hunt. The rebels would not remain hidden for long.
* * * *
“I swear if you eat all the pie this time, I will take you down. I don’t care how big you are.”
Rocco laughed at his brother, despite the look of determination in his steely gaze. “Whenever you feel like a frog, jump.”
“I’m serious Roc.” Rocky crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t forget who used to serve you up beatings on the regular when we were kits. I can still do it.”
“That was…” Rocco looked down at his large, powerfully built frame and slapped his belly. “Nearly two-hundred pounds ago? You’d have to be a proper nutter to try me on today.”
“Oh, but I am.” Rocky’s eyes went wild and crazy. “When it comes to my pie, I’m crazy as a swamp loon.”
“Here.” Rocco dished a slice of pie from the tin that he’d been shoveling into his mouth and handed it to his brother gently. “Why don’t we share?”
Rocky gave Rocco a wary look and then snatched the pie from his hands. Rocco continued to watch him with a playful smile across his face. They stared at each other for a moment before Rocco gave his brother a motion with his hand to commence eating.
Rocky finally let his guard down and began to slide the piece of pie into his mouth, a look of pure bliss on his face. With the speed of a viper Rocco open hand smacked Rocky in the mouth, smashing the pie that didn’t fall to the ground into his face.
The scientists were in the other room making their plans and discussing scientific things when a loud scream drew their attention. The next thing they knew, an enormous Procyon came charging through the room laughing like a bull, with his much smaller brother chasing him with a spatula. Rocco flipped over a table to put some space between them, inadvertently knocking aside glass beakers and other electronics that were smashed in the process.
Rocky came to the table and feinted right, while Rocco began to go left, they reversed several times, staying on opposite ends of the lab table.
“Now now boys.” One of the scientists, a much older Marsupia Possum came chugging over. “We mustn’t roughhouse in the lab!”
“Tell that to him!” Rocco laughed.
Rocky leaned over the table and stabbed his brother with the blunt end of the spatula. “I’ll kill you, you dirty wanker!”
“Come, come now boys.” The scientist walked over and placed his hands on Rocky’s shoulders. “Plenty of pie and other goodies to go around. Let’s get you some.”
As the Possum led Rocky into the kitchen, Rocky paused and threw the spatula across the room. Rocco ducked under it and stood up with a proud look on his face. Once the excitement was over, he made his way over to the other scientists and kicked one of their chairs they were seated in harder than he had meant to.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“What’s going on over here?” He looked down at the small Rodentia.
It had been a few hours since the two of them had brought Timmock and the medical nanobots back from their mission. The healer was even now in a back room with Ricky, working his magic with science. Rocco was essentially still a giant kit though and acted as though he needed some constant form of entertainment.
“Listen, Rocco.” Wolton came over and patted him on the shoulder. “You mustn’t get in the way. Now I understand a large Titan of action like you needs stimulation. Why don’t you make your way over to the Sportatorium and find a game to get stuck into?”
Rocco opened his mouth to protest…to protest what? It was not as though he would be able to add any strategies or science information to their discussions and planning. He was not much good with his brain, after all that’s what he had been told by everyone since he had been young. It probably would be for the best after all.
“Right. I’ll go find something to do out there. How much longer ‘till supper?”
Wolton looked blankly at the large Titan in front of him. “You just ate.”
“Doesn’t hurt to plan ahead.” Rocco then raised his voice and addressed the rest of the members of the room. “I’m gonna go do something else for a bit. I know you’ll all miss me, but I’ll be back shortly.” He gave a nod and a wink to Wolton and turned to leave.
Once Rocco had left the flat and closed the door behind him, several Titans applauded.
“Oh, enough with all that!” Wolton replied angrily, waving his hand at them. “Pipe down you fools. We need many more like that one if we expect to have a chance. What do you expect to do when the corporations actually start fighting back? When the real stuff starts, eh? I’ll tell you what, you’ll be wanting to stand right behind that lad to be sure. Quite right.”
* * * *
Rocky sat on the bed watching a holo-vid. It was one that he had seen many times before, but he did not seem to mind. So much of the mindless shlock that was peddled on the Titannet vid-services were nothing more than social conditioning and propaganda. That is why he enjoyed some of the old vids so much as many were completely free of such entanglements.
This particular vid was about a wealthy Foxen on the Rook Coast that took up dressing in all black complete with cape and wide-brimmed hat and fought off the evil landowners who exploited the working-class Titans. Raposa had been a hero to Rocky since he was a kit and he had been known to cry while watching it. He watched the display out of the corner of his eye as Raposa fought off a dozen of the governor’s thugs using only his wits and a trusty energy sword.
Next to the vid, he had another holo-display up trying to surf Titannet for any real uncensored history that he could find. He had always been fascinated to think of the times and eras before his own, but it was difficult to find any true information that had not been redacted by Zenith Corp. Wolton had hinted at certain pockets and corners that one could find though, and it had him curious. He smiled and fist pumped the air as he finally found what he had been looking for, a site that talked about the history of Gunrock, his homeland.
According to the site, Gunrock had been well-known throughout the different eras as a place of lawlessness. Tribal warlords had for generations fought each other for plots of land in the wastelands.
“Fancy that, eh?” Rocky remarked to no one in particular, as he was alone in the room that had been provided to them. “Not much changed there.”
What became interesting to him was when the essay began to touch upon the royal family that had risen up from the carnage to eventually rule over the entire continent of Gunrock, which was just a large island set deep in the Celebus Sea.
The site went on to detail the royal succession, and Rocky could not believe that someone had access to records going back that far. Sirius, the site said, was the first of the legendary line of Gunrockian kings. Rocky had never heard of him before, but his son, Leonis was a story that nearly every Gunrockian child grew up hearing about. Leonis was supposedly a fierce ruler who had conquered all the other tribes and began the Tristinian lineage. It was not called that, however, in his times, and only after six or seven generations when King Tristan the First ascended the throne was it given that name.
Rocky scrunched his face while reading, skipping to the end of the genealogy. According to the essay, Prince Tristan the Sixth was the last heir to the throne, when Raborim, who at that time was the CEO of the Zenith Corporation, led a war against Gunrock and enslaved the Leonid people. Rocky scratched his chin as he read. There was no mention of what had eventually happened to the Prince.
Suddenly an E-message came up across his reading material. He looked at it suspiciously, as he did not recognize the username it had originated from.
“Scan message for threats.” He commanded his Net-Comm unit. A moment later it came back with a pleasant green light.
“Scan complete. No threats found.”
“Open message in new window.”
“Dear Procyon rebel. You do not know me, but I have been following you and your brothers since that incident in Ocelan. I figured you might be the same Titans that had caused all those problems in Gunrock for the Empire. I had to be sure before I contacted you, but now I am sure that you are the three that I have been searching nearly three years for. I need your help in an especially important matter. Please meet me at the Café and Meatatorium on 31st street ASAP. We have much to discuss. Signed, a friend of your father’s.”
Rocky stared at the message for a long moment, his eyes occasionally darting back to the Raposa vid still playing on his other side. With Ricky still recuperating and Rocco off getting into who knew what kind of trouble, he knew going off by himself into a shadowy meeting with an unknown Titan was dangerous at best and foolish at worst. Still, he had always been the least capable out of the three brothers at fighting, and there was a certain defiance that rose inside of him. He did not need Ricky and Rocco’s help all the time. He was capable of defending himself just as good as the other two, right?
Rocky pulled a piece of clothing that was somewhere between a scarf and a poncho on over his shoulders. It only covered the upper half of his torso, but the important thing was that it would cover the flight pack that he donned once more. He then walked over to his holster that was plugged into a wall charging station and unplugged it. The holster and the Axion pistol within were both fully charged. This also he tightened up higher than he normally would wear it around his waist, so that it would be covered by the piece of clothing as well.
“Tell me that I always have so many bullets left because you and Rocco always do all the fighting…” Rocky murmured to himself and he then pulled his boots back on.
Rocky then left the tiny room, checking in on Ricky next door. The door was opened, and he stood in the doorway, feeling a little bit like Raposa in the cape-like poncho that was longer in the back than in the front.
“How is he?” Rocky asked the Mustelid healer, who was sitting beside a couch where his brother lay, still unconscious.
Timmock looked up, seemingly startled at the intrusion momentarily, but then smiled warmly.
“He’s doing good.” Timmock patted another chair in the room. “Come have a seat if you want.”
Rocky stood in the doorway for a moment, looking down on his big brother. He closed his eyes and shook his head, still unnerved by the sight of his brother in such a state. Timmock sensed this, and stopped patting the chair, leaning back in his own.
“The nanobots will take another twenty-six-hour cycle to completely repair the damage. I’m not sure what happened to him, and I have a feeling I probably don’t want to know all of the details, but whatever he had been tangling with had hit him pretty hard. His brain was swollen badly, but he’s mending quite well now.” Timmock looked back down to his patient. “Twenty-six hours and he’ll be right as rain.” He reiterated with a nod.
“Good.” Rocky nodded back and opened his mouth to say more. He instead opted to turn and leave. He passed by the gathering of scientists who were still busy in the other room. They now seemed as though they were excitedly discussing some new piece of business as they debated over holo-screens tuned into other parts of the vast megapolis. Rocky thought about telling someone his planned business for a moment but noted their fervor and decided ultimately against it. He then left the flat and made his way to the mag-lifts.
Wolton was working frantically meanwhile, on one of the holographic computer interfaces as he kept glancing over to one of the holo-monitors that was tuned into the old plaza a block away, where old fountains sat unused for many years now.
“Someone alert the boys!” He called over his shoulder. “We have company!”
The holo-display showed a line of black armored transport vehicles pulling up to the plaza and stopping. The transports were unremarkable except for a single red symbol on each one: it was a circle with an upside-down “V” at the bottom, pointing into the center of the circle. It was the symbol of the Trade Alliance, one of the three biggest corporations on Titan. A whole platoon of robotic combat units exited the vehicles and began scanning the plaza.
“They’re not here!