"When one wolf calls, others follow. Who wants to fight creatures that eat scorpions?"
-Maimun al-Wyluli, diary (Magic the Gathering: "Wyluli Wolf")
--It's A Dirty Job...--
The bright morning sun hung in the east as a warm breeze passed over the Greywall Abbey. Two woodpigeons flew northward overhead as the sound of a helicopter hummed form the east. A group of dibbuns were pretending to be the Starfox team and Andross' pilots on the east walltop. Abbess Lilith, Tarko, and Brother William, Abbey Recorder and Gatekeeper, were walking towards the gatehouse, the squirrel telling the mouse of his dream.
"Well," said Brother William, after Tarko finished, "It does sound familiar, but I'd have to look it up to be sure."
The Abbey Warrior nodded, watching the dibbuns on the wall. He remembered playing the same game as a dibbun. He always got to be Fox McCloud.
When the three beasts entered the gatehouse, Abbess Lilith and Tarko seated themselves at the table while Brother William went to this shelf, all the scrolls and parchments in the slot corresponding to its decade. Shifting it aside to reveal a second, less organized shelf, he rummaged through the papers until he found what he was looking for.
"Here," he said, bringing it to where the squirrel and badger were sitting, "This is the last writing of the Redwall Abbey. The Recorder never signed it, and I'm still trying to figure out who it is."
Abbess Lilith took the sheet of parchment and read it aloud.
"Today was a strange day indeed. Abbot Arthur fell ill with a high fever and is hallucinating. Sister Lorin is doing her best to care for him, but Abbot Arthur often goes into fits of rage and won't allow anybeast near him. Many others are becoming ill with this same disease, but on a lesser scale, and I am afraid of contracting it myself.
Nearly everybeast has also had the same dream of Martin, our Abbey Founder and once Warrior. In it, he speaks to us from in front of our Abbey gates and says to us,
A band of vermin will march past soon,
On the day of the eve of the next full moon.
Though small in size and blindly irate,
And the number of beasts to defend are great,
It will be a battle that cannot be won;
Foolhardy to fight and shameless to run.
Abandon your safehouse with stones of red
Ere everybeast within lies dead.
We will heed the words of Martin and leave by nightfall today, for tomorrow is the day before the next full moon. Many of us are uneasy about leaving Redwall Abbey, but Martin has never failed us before. I truly wish that there was some other way of resolving this, for where will we go? The other elders are considering Salamandastron, and that seems a good a choice as any. I can hear Friar Judas outside with his assistants lined up, unloading the equipment in the kitchen to the wagon outside the gates. Unfortunately, only some of the beds will be able to be brought, as well as a limited supply of food and Durrkin's drinks for the cellar.
Hopefully, we will be ready to leave soon. Sometimes, I think I hear hordebeasts marching up the path from the south or battlecries being shouted in the distance."
Tarko nodded, considering the anonymous recording of the day Redwall saw its fate in advance.
"It's odd," said Tarko finally, "That I was told all but the last two lines of the warning."
"Not really," said Brother William, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the kettle hanging in the fireplace, "It generalizes the message more. The seventh line says 'Abandon your safehouse with stones of red.' That would clearly distinguish Redwall Abbey from Greywall Abbey."
"So that would mean Martin could be warning us of our abbey's fate as well?" Abbess Lilith asked concerned.
Brother William nodded, sipping his coffee. "It's just as possible." He paused in thought before adding, "But, if you look past the question of 'what', you should next ask 'why', as in 'Why is Tarko having this dream in the first place?'."
"Could it be," speculated the Abbess, "That it warns of some impending doom in another form?"
"Possibly," said the Recorder, shrugging, "But let's look past even that."
After a few moments of silence, Tarko suddenly piped up. "Why is 2155 the Year of the Prophecy?"
The mouse's eyes suddenly widened. "That's it!" he cried.
"What's it?" asked the badger, confused.
"That's why Tarko's having his dream! It must be the Prophecy!" The Brother's answer received looks of confusion from the other two beasts.
"I remember reading in a recording from Redwall's Exploration Era that said 2155 would be the Year of the Prophecy, as was confirmed by Lord Bloodheart of Salamandastron and a dream of Martin," explained Brother William. Tarko and Abbess Lilith exchanged glances before the mouse continued.
"If you add the digits in 2155, you get thirteen. If you count the number of centuries since the Fall of Redwall Abbey, it's thirteen. As far as we know, there are thirteen chapters of Redwall's history, including the ones of Martin's father Luke and of Lord Brocktree. If you want to get really obscure, the number of letters in 'Martin the Warrior' minus the number of Abbey Warriormice that had an 'M' beginning their name, you end up with thirteen. Then there's Martin's predestined heir to the Warrior title, Matthias; add the numbers in his name to his adversary, Cluny's, and the result is thirteen. Or how about the abbot who proclaimed Matthias as Abbey Warrior, Abbot Mortimer? The letters in his name and title number thirteen."
"So?" asked the squirrel, "What's with all the thirteens?"
The Recorder grinned. "What is the thirteenth letter in the alphabet?"
"M..." replied Tarko.
"And Martin starts with?'"
"An 'M'," he responded quickly. "How weird..."
"There are countless other thirteens, some very simple, some incredibly complex, but they're all there." Brother William was beginning to feel very proud of himself and his work.
"That's great," Abbess Lilith said with some concern in her voice, "But I think you should take a nice, long vacation."
* * *
Shean Cordassis wished he too could take a nice long vacation. His latest top secret project was beginning to become less "top secret" among his employees because of constant failures, the latest being Joe's handiwork, resulting in the postponement of the experiment. He was just about to doze off and escape into the realms of dreams when the intercom on his desk beeped.
"Mr. Cordassis, you have a visitor," said the mink secretary through the speaker. "He says it's important business."
The coyote pressed the small white button beside the intercom. "Send him in," he grumbled.
"Yes, sir."
The large wooden double doors at the end of Shean Cordassis' office swung open as the company president's guest entered. Upon seeing his visitor, the coyote began to relax, but he wasn't exactly sure why.
Through the doorway stepped a wolf almost as large as a badger. His fur was a dully grey, matching the silver pants, grey shirt, and shiny metallic trenchcoat with the sleeves rolled up the the wolf was wearing. He had a long scar on his right cheek, an eyepatch over his left eye, and a metal bionic right arm. He flashed a sharp-toothed grin at the coyote sitting behind the desk.
"Greetings, Mr. Cordassis." The wolf extended his left paw to the coyote. "My name is... well, it's not important. However, I am known to many as Starwolf."
Shean slowly shook the wolf's paw, staring up at him as though trying to read the wolf's mind. "Nice havin' you 'ere... Starwolf. My secretary says you have business to discuss with me?"
The wolf seated himself in one of the three chairs facing Shean's desk. "Yes, I do," he said in his rich baritone voice, "I would like to make a deal with you."
Shean nodded. "I'm listenin'."
The wolf grinned. "How would you like to have a personal team of star fighters?"
The coyote raised an eyebrow at the wolf. "I would like it very much, but what's the catch? I know this isn't a free lunch."
"Well," said the wolf, doing his best to keep the offer sounding desirable, "My last team was killed in a battle with an old... acquaintance of mine, so I'm three members short. All you need is to supply me with three beasts with basic knowledge in flying and I'll supply you with the best air defense you ever had."
"Where do you expect me to find..." Shean paused in thought before speaking again. "I could get you your three beasts. When would you need them by?"
The wolf smiled. "Any time that works for you."
The coyote thought for a few minutes more. "Why are you offerin' your services to me in particular? Why not somebeast else?"
The wolf shrugged. "You seemed the most prospective among your corporate brothers and sisters, and I like your work." The wolf hoped this would appeal to the coyote.
It did. "Hmm... well, I'll consider your offer, Starwolf," he said, although he could have just as easily accepted it then and there.
The wolf nodded briefly. "I'll get back to you in a few days. Have your answer ready for me then... we'll say three days." He got up, shook paws with the coyote again, smiling, and left the large office.
Shean had a feeling that Starwolf would be the answer to all of his problems. Now all he had to do was bring together who he liked to refer to as his Three Eyes of the Universe: Jonas Gerarden, the Board member; Fara Howler, the wolf assassin; and Leo Terrera, drummer for the rock band BioHazard.
* * *
Leo Terrera, the bull of the universally famous band BioHazard, was the quietest of the four. He hardly ever spoke without being spoken to first or having a good reason to, and seemed to really exert his energy when he was drumming. Leo's characteristic gold nose ring and steel left horn contradicted his true personality: quiet and self-contained.
The other band members often asked him about this, and after a lot of Leo shrugging and making meek replies, they would laugh and suggest it had something to do with his dibbunhood. He'd always nod and say it probably did, but Leo knew that it wasn't the real reason. Leo had felt ashamed of using his friends as a means of getting information for Shean Cordassis since he was hired for the job. Whenever they toured or made public appearances, it would always happen to be somewhere Cordassis needed to get the inside secrets about.
Leo wished he could quit his job for Life Technologies, Inc., but he had singed a twenty year contract for the coyote that would run out in 2170. It stated that he would work for Cordassis and his company whatever happened to the bull. Just last year, Leo and his three best friends, Amelio DeCini, Gavin Nibara, and Garr Zula formed what was destined to become the greatest revival-rock band of all time. Cordassis took advantage of this and found a way to control the band's schedule. And Leo was taking advantage of his friends.
The bull laid awake on the floor next to one of the beds, a transparent green bottle half full of beer nearby. From where he was, he could see Amelio asleep in the chair by the table and Gavin's back facing him from the couch on which the ocelot slept, and assumed that Garr and Nicholas were on the beds. His watch beeped. It was 9:00 a.m., RC Loamhedge time. He'd have to call Cordassis in three hours, but Leo didn't want to have to worry about that.
Just as leo was about to fall back asleep, his mobile phone on the table by which the tenor stoat slept beeped twice. Leo got up, picked his phone up and, almost knocking over another unfinished green bottle of beer in the process, answered it.
"Hello?" he said in his low bass voice.
"Leo, my friend," replied the voice at the other end of the line.
The bull immediately knew who it was. "Mr. Cordassis, my report isn't supposed to be made until noon."
Shean chuckled, glancing over at his computer screen. "This call isn't about your report, Leo. It concerns a special assignment I have for you."
Leo raised an eyebrow as he stepped out of the room and into the hall. "I thought we agreed that I wouldn't involved in any special assignments as long as the band was on tour."
The coyote chuckled again, leaning back in his chair and putting his leather boot covered footpaws up on his desk. "Ah, see, that's where you're wrong. You agreed, I merely allowed. Now I'm deciding not to."
The drummer sighed. "What's the assignment?"
Shean grinned. "You're going to work full time for me with your two 'colleagues' and an associate of mine as a star fighter."
Leo laughed dryly. "Sorry, Mr. Cordassis, but I don't know the first thing about cosmic warfare."
The company president laughed back. "Oh, but you will, my friend." Suddenly becoming serious, the coyote added, "And if you don't accept this job, not only will you no longer work for me, you will no longer be with BioHazard. I can make it happen."
The bull growled almost silently, then sagged his shoulders, knowing he had no choice. "All right, Mr. Cordassis. I'll do it."
"Good. I'll expect to see you here at headquarters in three days."
"Three days? But I have to-"
"Three days."
The phone clicked and went silent. Leo pressed the red 'End' button and slumped against the wall beside the door. Now there was no doubting it. Leo was truly betraying his friends. The only problem new was explaining it to them.