-10 March 1972-

The city of Saint Percival was in a state of great jubilation, as letters had finally arrived to them stating that the long war had been won, three days prior. Creatures were celebrating, all about, and it was a raucous celebration indeed. 

Well, as raucous and jubilant as anything could be in the wintry and eternally frozen City on the Lagoon. What it actually meant was that creatures could be caught smiling in public. Still, it was a joyous mood, as they knew at last they would no longer be asked to send another truckload of their young folk off to some far-away land most did not care to know of.

One particular individual made his way along the snowy street quietly, avoiding others around him. He was a Bujsteren, a two-legged beast-folk of the vulpine persuasion in his particular case, not uncommon in this northern town. After all, when winter is the only constant, one with fur is intrinsically advantaged compared to one without. However, unlike the typical fare of the region, white and almost bleached fur, this particular fellow had a coat so dark and absorbent of the light that it seemed he was dusted with the material of space. He was quite bundled up, in a heavy trenchcoat, a hood over his head, and wool-lined leather gloves.

He made his way along the street, and to an alley, and then to a door, where he took hold of the fingers of one of his gloves and knocked in a most particular way, sharp, then gentle, sharp, then gentle. He pulled the glove back on, and waited, and shortly after the door opened a crack, where a distinctly insectoid face stared blankly back at him. The insect's mandibles clicked together audibly and joyfully (if you could recognize it), and the big bug stepped back, letting the fox enter.

[Dane, you're back! You were gone so long], the creature remarked, antennae wiggling as they transmitted her message telepathically. She shut the door with one of her many legs, once Dane had entered.

Dane looked up at the creature. It was quite a large beast, best described as a wasp, nine feet long from the base of her antennae to the tip of her wickedly curved stinger. Unlike a typical insect, she had eight legs instead of six, and every time she moved them, or really any part of her body, one could hear the shifting of the solid plates of her exoskeleton. She had great and powerful gossamer wings which folded against her back, but fluttered a bit with excitement, along with her clicking mandibles and slightly drooling mouth. 

At first glance anyone would easily be terrified by such a creature, but this was a common sight in this country, if not this region - a Vesparen.

Dane's reply was smooth and calm. "Don't worry Dadangan, they haven't got us yet. The war is over you know."

The insectoid woman clicked her mandibles faster, anxiously. [They'll focus on us harder then! We won't be safe at all.]

Dane shrugged, and opened up a cupboard, filled with all different sorts of baking supplies. He looked around carefully until he spotted it - a bag of plant-free 'protein' flour. It was an ingredient carefully chosen, just normal enough to not draw much attention, but also just strange enough that any potential guest baker would be unlikely to select it.

He pulled the flour out slightly, and on its own, it slid back in. Simultaneously, the range dropped down into the floor, revealing a hidden staircase downward. Dadangan skittered over to the stairs, then Dane followed, flipping a lever that caused the range to return to its normal placement, and closing them up in the hidden passageway.

They descended, down, down, maybe 40 meters. It was low enough that the air was a little heavier, and breathing was a bit more of a chore, but it was also certain that even the loudest of noises would not escape to the surface.

When they finally got to the bottom, they arrived in a large, warm space lit by the gentle glow of lanternlight, and friends residing within rose to greet them.

"Ey, he's back!" one such exclaimed with a powerful voice, a lion of considerable size, Tsubacki. Unlike most furry creatures, he was a Hecharen, creature-folk, a creature without the blessing of hands or bipedal walking. However, this did not stop the lion from rearing up, and taking hold of his vulpine friend in a tight and powerful embrace. 

"Ah! Come now, were you all so worried for me?" Dane asked. He looked around him and saw the answer on the faces looking back was yes.

There was Callen, their leader, a deerlike beast-folk with strong arms that were almost always crossed over his fluffy and otherwise bare chest. His expression would be unreadable to all but the closest friends, but Dane could tell by the slightest indication that he was quite concerned.

There was Jessie, a creature-folk, some kind of weasel creature larger than a human, who could move like a snake and as swiftly along the ground as a falcon in the air, and who usually faced any problem with the breaking of bones, but she too was clearly upset.

There was Cody, who was called a Twiren, a 'double-folk,' though after all the experimentation and alteration he had been through, there were certainly more than two types of folk making up his body, and his mind perhaps as well. His head was that of a wasp, though only half of it was present, the other half a metal box where electronic processors had been added to replace half of his transplanted brain after an incident. His chest and one of his arms were, as well as he could remember, original - a feline body, with tail and paw, though the other arm was also cybernetic. One of his legs was that of some other cat, and the other was an insect's leg. He sat in a mobile chair, staring at Dane with his compound eye. The expressions of a wasp, or even half of them, were not natural to him, and so he offered his feelings verbally, through a speech synthesizer.

"The war is over Dane. And that means our mission is ever more critical. We will soon be the main threat that the nation will face. And the people will also be willing to support our cause if we are not seen as unpatriotic any longer. Which makes us even more of a threat."

Dane nodded slowly. "True. But do you think they'll really want to start up the secret police again so soon after the victory? This is a time for celebration, nobody wants to fight any more. I think we can step back and take some time to flesh out a good plan."

"Step back? What do you mean step ba-"

Cody suddenly stopped, and went limp, though his paw pressed gently against his vespine head. It was common for him; a great swell of emotion, or even a brainstorming session, could cause his electronics to overheat, and when they did, they shut down, leaving him with only half of his faculties, and his synthesizer down. Dane sighed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset. I just think that we're due for a time to just stop, and focus, and really get a good plan, and then we can carry it out after we've had longer to think it through."

Cody nodded gently, and Callen cleared his throat.

"It is good that we might have some time to develop our plans more thoroughly. The Goddess knows we need something good and solid, and soon. But we do need to move quickly. Time is never on our side..."

The deer trailed off, looking up at one of the hanging lanterns quietly, deep in thought.

"No. For today, we can rest. But tomorrow, in the early morning, we will be hard at work," Callen said. The rest of them were willing to accept this, and so they made up for the evening.