The stagecoach pulled to a stop. The doors open and the Apaches explode into violence. Bro. Reynolds is pummeled with a swiftness and savagery that makes the even the reptilian agent widen his eyes in amazed shock at these mammals. He slips like a shadow around the revolting scene. The men of Saras were insane in the rage and violation to the target. Maras is cold efficiency.

The dry scents of the open desert fill my nose and the feel of the scalding sand on my pads makes me tingle with life-force. I love this thick physicality, the breath, the adrenaline making these muscles feel so incredibly alive when I tear into a living prey.

This is so different that the regimented life and disembodied consciousness in the Ethership Corps for Maras. I may have resonated with the star clusters of Aldebaran and tuned to the black towers of Carcosa behind the moon, but now I have gone beyond the Council of the Selected. I have tasted Independence.

…continued