Enter a Wolf

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   {{#ifeq: Oberon | || 
     Author: Oberon  
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     Author: ' |
     Author: [[User:Oberon|]]  
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   {{#ifeq: Oberon | | Authors: ' | 
     Authors: Oberon 
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   {{#ifeq: Oberon | |
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     Author: [[User:Oberon|]] 
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}} {{#if:| — see also [[:Category:{{{category}}}|other works by this author]]}}

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Icon	This story is a work in progress.

Icon	[[:Category:Pig And Whistle\|Pig And Whistle]] story universe

[[Setting::Pig And Whistle| ]]

[[Image:{{{icon}}}|30px|center|Icon]]

This story uses "Commonwealth" spelling, so extra "u's" may show up in some words and not be an error

I stood outside of the bar and looked at the door whilst one of my ears twitched at the sound of the music coming from within. I hadn’t lived in this city all that long, though I had been here long enough to appreciate the locals attitudes towards TFORs. In my last city I had been treated badly by some of the local bigots, though that was a mistake in my case. The reason was really simple; I was a retired North American Republic Army Officer. My commission in the army had predated the Collapse and thus I was originally a member of the Canadian Armed Forces. Now here I was standing outside of bar in a somewhat run-down part of town contemplating my past. I shook my head at the weirdness of the situation and pushed open the door. The first thing that struck me about this place was the multitude of odours that tried to climb up into my nose. The second thing that I noticed was the number of people that were currently in the bar, there seemed to be every single possible form of person that you could imagine in sitting in various seating devices all throughout the room. I made my way to an empty table and sat down with a grunt. The years weren’t getting any easier for me these days, though my age didn’t show at all. I was approaching my fifty ninth birthday without any outwards signs that I was older than the day I had left the forces twenty eight years ago when I was thirty years old. Of course for some people getting a read on my age was pretty hard considering the fact that I no longer appeared human. In fact the only human traits that I had left were my hands, my somewhat human voice, my ability to walk bipedaly, though I was capable of going on all fours if I wanted to, and my ability to see the full spectrum of colours, though my eyesight in the dark was also improved over what it had once been. A waiter came up to me and asked me softly what I would like, I perked my ears forward and softly wagged my tail, my version of a smile, because quite frankly you don’t want a predator like myself to smile at you, and said

“I’ll have a beer, still in the bottle if that is possible.” She smiled at me and then turned back and headed for the bar. While she was collecting my drink I thought about my past.

{{#if:j|{{#if:May 7th 2010|

May 7th 2010

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I was sitting in the C-130 Herky Bird with my full halo gear on. All around me were the troopers of D Company 1st Canadian Special Forces Regiment. The chaos that had gripped the world with the appearance of Blowtorch Fever had resulted in the balkanization of our southern neighbor, the United States. After a time the PMO and Parliament had finally decided that enough was enough and that we had to move against the chaotic elements that were running rampant in the former U.S in order to stabilize our southern border. Our company was part of the leading elements of the PPCLI Regimental Battle Group that was slowly advancing into the northwestern state of Washington State. We were going to be responsible for securing the State Capital Buildings in Olympia. I checked my silenced C-10A-1 assault weapon, the newly introduced Canadian version of the German G-36C Assault Rifle. Our regiment had been one of the first ones to receive this new weapon to replace our old C-8SFW rifles. Then I checked my respirator gear before I looked back to the lieutenants who commanded each element of my combat team. One of the young troopers in the second file of soldiers abruptly fell onto his knees and I went over to see if he was ok. I was afraid that he might have the Fever. If he did then all of us in the platoon would probably be getting it as well. If that happened we would probably end up being quarantined until we had all recovered. The trooper looked up at me and then finally said

“Sir I don’t feel so good.”

“Ok son you’re staying behind on this drop.” I couldn't have any sick troops on this drop. In fact allowing this man to drop was against regs. Finally the loadmaster of the place came up to me and said

“Five minutes sir.” I nodded and slipped on my facemask which contained my high altitude breathing assist unit, my special scrambled comm pickups, and my NVG array. As we neared the drop position the loadmaster opened the rear cargo ramp and activated the jump light. The light was currently red, but it would change to green when the pilot gave us a go for jump. As soon as the light turned green I flung myself out into the pitch black freezing night sky at eleven thousand meters. Behind me the rest of my company soon joined me in freefall. We would continue to fall like this until we reached three hundred meters when we would open our chutes. Finally I gave the signal over our special scrambled comm and pulled the cord on my chute. The complex nylon black parafoil unfurled with a sudden shock and I was suddenly going a lot slower than before. Below me I could see the lights of the Capital buildings and my primary objective. Surrounding the building there was a number of armoured vehicles of the State Guard. I just hoped that they wouldn’t be adverse to our landings. As soon as I hit the ground I detached my parachute gear and ran towards the nearest vehicle only to be fired upon. A glowing streak of tracers arched towards me and I hit the ground just as it arched overhead.

{{#if:j|{{#if:Present Day|

Present Day

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“Sir are you ok?” I looked up at the waitress and she smiled and asked again if I was ok.

“Oh I’m all right I was just thinking about something in the distant past before I became what I am today.” She nodded and then pointed to the beer on the table and told me

“That’ll be four-fifty.” I nodded and pulled out my wallet, inadvertently showing her my shield. I was now a NAR Federal Police Services Officer. I had joined the FPS shortly after I had left the Armed Services to begin a slightly less dangerous profession.

Enter a Wolf

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