Bad doggie!

Probe raced the rocket bike down near the ground, enjoying the contrails of dust and dirt he kicked up as his sled flashed past mile upon mile of sand, broken by an occasional intact oasis. The AI hummed to himself, a habit he had picked up from working with humans. Getting the body to function had been easy. Liberating the rocket bike had been a touch more difficult, but after escaping the....lab?.....of that crimson dragonness....the cyborg had been able to escape into the desert.....bring a crashed bike back online, and flown off before the dragon had caught up!

Probe didn't feel guilty about tooling about, just looking for something interesting to do. It took nary a fraction of his computational power to multitask looking for Enemy craft to fry, neutral ships to warn off (what had that strange ship been up to before it had....flashed away like that? Something about being a Voyager or some crap like that?), and this.

Miles back, he had seen a lone human figure walking along. On a whim, the AI had landed and asked the figure just why he was.....trekking along like some idiot in the desert.

Fever bright eyes had looked, and a zany smile had plastered itself on the bedraggled man....and suddenly the rag wearing lune had attacked! A reflexive fist to the face breaks the jaw of the man....and then the madman smile as the bones heal with an audible snapping sound. The loon grapples the sighing cyborg, trying to throttle the nonexistent breath of the unit. A quick swat by the startled AI had knocked the gleeful loon to dreamland. Curious to what kind of dope this man is one, Probe runs a blood test....and finds besides the obligatory quiescent Phage.....a disease/virus that his database identifies as.....lycanthropy!

Despite his better judgment, the AI didn't ice the poor lune. Instead, wrapping the unconscious form in a restraint suit.....for Avatator's who....while on independent operation (i.e. controlled by the dirt simple AI within the unit.....affectionately called Waldo)....malfunctioned. Strong as the were-jackal might be......it COULDN'T break the woven hyper titanium alloy that made up it's straightjacket.

Natthais groaned as he regained consciousness....and then starts when he finds he can't....MOVE! He begins to howl in anger and frustration, then freezes in fear as he sees.....that he's flying in a vehicle that's doing well over any speed he ever experienced before.

"Hrmph?!" shouts Natthias through his gag, wanting to know what the Hell is going on!

"Wait one," Probe says, seeing something interesting.

1. A ship below....in what his database called the Sueze Channel.....and a gathering of....people?.....to the right.....up on the clips.....

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