Present Day
Noturatii Progress Report
Date: April 7
Author: Jacob Green
Title: Chief of Operations – British Division
Subject: Recent explosion in research laboratory
Casualties:
43 Security personnel
11 Administration staff
9 Scientists
5 Level Four Assassins
1 Satva Khuli
Jacob paused as he typed the words, feeling a cold thrill go up his spine. The Satva Khuli was dead, the most highly trained, most lethal, most cold blooded killer the Noturatii had to offer. She’d been sent to defend their science lab from the shape shifter abominations.
And now she was dead, killed by those vicious bastards. Though how they had done it, he couldn’t begin to guess.
On 25th March, the Noturatii’s main scientific research centre in northern London came under attack by a concerted force of shape shifters. An exact count of the assailants was not possible due to the security feeds in and around the complex being taken out of operation, however we estimate the total number to have been around 35.
Our security forces were unable to repel the attack in its early stages, largely due to logistical difficulties caused by narrow hallways and multiple security check points, which limited staff movement and prevented a wide scale assault on the shifters.
In anticipation of such an attack, I had previously requested, and been granted, attendance by a Satva Khuli.
It has long been known that the shape shifters employ a brand of assassin of their own. Even though this was a known possibility, it was anticipated that the Khuli should possess sufficient skills and weaponry to repel a shifter assassin. I am startled and disappointed to find that this was not the case, and would urge management to investigate the current standards of Khuli training to avoid this kind of defeat in the future.
Jacob gritted his teeth, hoping he wasn’t overstepping his bounds with that bold statement. The truth was, the training the Satva Khuli, literally the ‘Blood Tigers’, endured was already brutal to the point that only one in three children recruited for training lived to adulthood. Frankly, he had no idea why the woman sent to them hadn’t been able to fend off the shifter invasion. After the sirens had sounded and the attack had reached the lower levels of the lab, Jacob had cut and run, a planned escape through a series of little known tunnels, leaving his not insignificant security detail to take care of the problem.
That the shifters had a member of their pack capable of killing a Khuli was a worrying prospect. God knew what sort of nefarious destruction they were planning next…
In the course of the shifter attack, our Head of Science and Research, Phillip O’Brian, was killed. The shifters planted a large number of explosives throughout the laboratory complex, which were detonated after they exited the building, causing the total destruction of the complex including the warehouse facility above ground. Attempts were made to upload pertinent findings from our research to the central database, however it is believed that this process was interrupted before it could be completed. I am currently interviewing surviving science staff to determine the extent of information lost, and to implement plans for recovering recent advances made.
Melissa Hunter, the sole surviving member of the science and research team, had been livid when she’d found out the extent of the damage. Normally a respectful, disciplined woman, she’d completely lost the plot when he’d told her exactly how much data they had lost. The team had been working on ground-breaking research, hoping to crack the secret of how the shape shifters converted humans into their particular brand of abomination – people capable of turning themselves into wolves. Months of planning had culminated in the capture of a shifter and the attempted conversion of three civilian women. At least one of the experiments was believed to have been successful, but the data from the last test subject had been lost, wiping out months of careful planning and research.
Melissa wasn’t the only one who would be outraged by the loss. Jacob was trying to paint as rosy a picture as possible, implying that valuable data could be recovered. It was the second time his research team had been wiped out by the shifters and the second time priceless data had been lost. Headquarters was not going to be happy.
But neither would they be happy about Jacob hiding any of the facts, so he gritted his teeth and forced himself to continue typing.
The captive shifter being held in our cage facility was freed during the attack and is believed to have re-joined the shifter pack in the north of England. Surviving security personnel are being interviewed with regards to his escape, however further experiments will not be possible until a new test subject is acquired.
Jack Miller, in particular, would be a gold mine of information. One of Jacob’s personal security guards, the man was observant, methodical, dedicated and had advanced combat skills, thanks to his time in the military. Now, if Jacob could just find the time to debrief him, given the thousand other tasks that needed seeing to in the wake of the lab explosion, he might actually learn something useful.
On a more optimistic note, we have recently received hard confirmation that there are not one, but two shifter packs in England’s north. Two days ago, a turncoat from the more primitive of the two groups sold information to the Noturatii in exchange for the extermination of one particular shifter, a woman by the name of Dee Carman, who was the subject of the first successful experiment we completed in our labs. Please refer to report 5694B for details of her conversion and escape, and subsequent efforts to recapture her.
I am putting a team together to begin investigating possible locations of the second pack, which is believed to be the more technologically advanced of the two, and the group responsible for the assault on the lab. I anticipate significant information to come to light within the next few weeks.
In the meantime, we have transferred our science operations to the British headquarters in east London, and are currently compiling a list of equipment required to resume our research into the shifters’ physiology and possible ways to exterminate them.
It was a bold attempt to paint a positive picture from ‘anticipated gains’, when all Jacob actually had to show for his efforts so far was a sketchy map of the shifters’ possible locations and a group of soldiers cooling their heels while he scrambled to fill the gaps left by the colossal losses from the lab explosion.
Knowing there was little more he could do to improve the situation – the loss of the lab had been a disaster, and he and everyone else knew it – he hit send, hoping his superiors were in a good mood today.
Deep in the heart of the Kielder Forest in the far north of England, Genna waited at the edge of the camp as the rustling sound of wolf feet came closer. The Grey Watch, the far more reclusive of the two shifter packs in England, lived hidden in the forest and shunned all contact with modern society, with a blanket ban on television, internet and mobile phones. But even they needed to venture out now and then for basic necessities, and the pack was gathered, waiting for Luna and Rience to return from their trip into town. They’d been to pick up flour, sugar, herbs and spices, milk powder… and far more interesting, the latest mail. Though letters were rare, they kept in contact with other Grey Watch packs from across Europe, messages still written by hand, in code, passing on vital information about the movements and activities of each pack and warnings about any unexpected developments from the Noturatii.
Moments later, two wolves dashed into the clearing, Luna coming first, the older and larger of the two, followed by Rience, a large satchel strapped to each of their backs. Sempre, the alpha female, was waiting in the centre of the clearing, and they went straight to her, standing patiently while she unstrapped the bags.
But then, instead of waiting for their leader to check the mail and announce any news-worthy snippets of information, Luna shifted immediately, diving into one of the bags without a word. She pulled out a small envelope, and then more surprisingly, a newspaper – such things were generally forbidden – and handed them both to Sempre with a bow, an apology for her impertinence. “It’s from Il Trosa,” she said simply, which made Sempre’s eyes widen, and she snatched the envelope out of Luna’s hand, ripping the thing open and reading quickly. Her expression went from concerned, to confused, to outraged, and she snatched up the newspaper next, a low growl rumbling from her throat as she read the front page.
“Pack up the camp,” she announced, when she’d finished. “We’re moving.”
On a normal day, almost everyone in the camp would be in wolf form. The Grey Watch shunned not only human society, but all links to their human past, their natural human bodies included, and their members were expected to spend upwards of ninety percent of their time in wolf form. But today, more than half the gathered shifters were already in human form, some of their rules having been temporarily set aside while they all recovered from a vicious battle from a few weeks ago.
Dee Carman, a woman from Il Trosa, the other shifter pack in England, had sought refuge in their camp after being attacked by the Noturatii, and over the course of the evening, it had been revealed that she was no ordinary shifter. Rather, she was the reincarnation of Fenrae-Ul, the Destroyer Wolf, an ancient soul returned from the dead with the devastating ability to separate the two halves of a shifter, returning them permanently to either human, or wolf form: the embodiment of a prophecy that predicted the end of their species.
A battle had ensued, as Il Trosa sent their best warriors to retrieve her, and there was barely a member of the Grey Watch left uninjured after the fight. Two of them had been killed, with another having to be put down after Dee had used her destructive powers on the wolf, ripping the human half right out of her body.
As a concession to the serious injuries everyone had sustained, they had been temporarily allowed to remain in human form while their wolf side healed. It was a far more comfortable state of being, as the pain inflicted upon the wolf forms didn’t affect the human side, and also a pragmatic solution, as it reduced the risk of infection, some of the wounds deep and easily contaminated.
Now, with so many of their number in human form, the automatic questions and objections flowed readily, a chorus of ‘why?’ and ‘what’s going on?’ and ‘what did the letter say?’ filling the clearing.
Looking thoroughly irate, and more than a little nervous, Sempre held up the letter. “Baron sends his regards,” she stated with no small amount of scorn. “And wishes to inform us that Il Trosa recently attacked a Noturatii base. He says they’re likely to retaliate and will probably come north, hunting us in the forest.” Then she held up the newspaper for them all to see. It showed the charred remains of a large building on the cover, along with the headline ‘Warehouse Blaze Causes Mass Evacuation’. “They broke into a warehouse, shot a hundred or more people and then blew the thing sky high. Front page news! So once again, we have to turn tail and run, because Il Trosa can’t keep their shit together for five fucking minutes. Pack your things. We’re moving to the northern camp. Today.”
The northern camp was the most remote camp in the forest, hidden deep in a gully where even the most determined hikers found access difficult, and as far from human settlement as it was possible to get in England.
It was also a dark, dank space where everything was constantly wet and leeches were plentiful, sunlight rarely making it to the ground even on a clear day, and there was a round of grumbling as everyone made their objections known.
“Damned Il Trosa!”
“They’d take every camp from us if they could!”
“Can’t stop causing trouble.”
“How about we show up on their doorstep and camp there, since they keep screwing things up for us here?”
“Or we could just turn Il Trosa over to the Noturatii and be done with it,” Genna muttered… and was surprised when the pack suddenly fell silent around her.
“What did you say?” Sempre asked, looking at her like she’d just grown a second head, and Genna felt a wave of embarrassment as she realised that the entire pack had just heard her throw-away comment. But now that she had centre stage, why not make the most of it?
“Well, you know where their estate is,” Genna pointed out, not understanding why it was such a strange idea. “It couldn’t be too hard to let the Noturatii know where it is, and then Il Trosa is no longer our problem.”
Sempre looked at her like she’d just suggested the woman remove her own liver and eat it for breakfast. “You stupid girl,” she said, in a tone so cold Genna felt the blood drain from her face. “You know nothing of our culture, or our history.” Sempre stalked towards her, face red with anger, and it took all of Genna’s courage to stand her ground, when all she really wanted to do was run away and hide. “The Treaty of Erim Kai Bahn expressly forbids such a thing. What the hell do you think would happen if Il Trosa announced our location to the Noturatii? If one pack ever betrays another, the treaty is broken, and we may as well hand ourselves in to the Noturatii, line up and ask them to shoot us all!”
“What? Why? Why would the loss of one pack make a difference?” Genna had never heard of this treaty. She’d been with the pack for less than six months, converted in a rush before her official training period had been completed, and apparently there were important parts of shifter culture and history that the Grey Watch had yet to teach her about.
“If we betray the Lakes District Den,” Sempre said, her tone condescending and impatient, “then the Council will get wind of it, and immediately betray us to the Noturatii. And then any Grey Watch pack from anywhere in Europe could take offence at that, and betray another Il Trosa pack, who will get revenge by betraying a Grey Watch pack, and the whole thing spirals into chaos until there are no shifters left. The Treaty was set up to prevent that exact kind of stupidity. When it was signed in 1437, it was expressly forbidden that any shifter pack should ever betray another to the Noturatii. We may fight amongst ourselves, kill each other, take revenge for a thousand perceived slights, but against the Noturatii, we are allies. For all Il Trosa’s stupidity and recklessness, we stand as a united front against a common enemy. Never, ever forget that.”
Genna nodded obediently, suddenly eager to be back in her wolf form as she felt her face heat. But it wasn’t from embarrassment. Her gut churned as she realised that she had made a terrible, terrible mistake, and she felt rather faint at the enormity of what she had done.
After the attack on their pack, Genna had been horrified by the powers of Fenrae-Ul, the ease with which she could destroy a shifter, and had seen the woman as their greatest and most immediate threat. And so, in an effort to get rid of her, she’d sought help from the Noturatii themselves, had sold them information about the whereabouts of Il Trosa’s Den, in exchange for assurances that they would kill the girl when they found her. It had seemed a simple, clever solution to a confounding problem.
Only now, it turned out it was nowhere near that simple. It seemed that, rather than helping her pack and assuring a more stable future for them, she had instead broken an ancient treaty – a treaty no one had ever told her about! – and in doing so, should she ever be discovered, she had risked an internal war amongst her own species that could get them all killed.
Oblivious to the cause of her apprehension, Sempre spun away from her and faced the rest of the pack. “Gather your things. Remove all traces of our presence from this camp. I want everyone ready to move in one hour. And Lita?” she snapped to an elderly woman hanging on the fringes of the clearing. “See to it that Genna is educated in the finer details of the Treaty. The girl’s ignorance has been tolerated for quite long enough.”