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“I couldn’t know how long had passed when I finally found my way back out of the cave. I was also much calmer, having realized that seeing my animal form would have terrified many normal humans. I did my best to limit those I killed outside the caves to those who sought to harm me.”

She looked looked up, “And so here we are. “Gyada finished the story, showing a mixture of relief and exhaustion. Relief from finally telling someone what had happened to her, finally being able to give these people who had treated her with kindness, her past. Exhaustion from going through her memories, with so much pain in them.

Boris and Janna looked at each other. It seemed likely that whatever the alien had shouted had activated something that had rewritten the critical portion of the nanites code for changing forms. That explained the section that TOM and ADAM had found garbled.

Finally, Boris felt they had enough information to conclude that she was remarkably adaptable. When taking into account the time she had spent alone, or at least only in contact with an AI of questionable sanity, he had to conclude that she was as sane as anyone else in the group he’d met. They all had their quirks. They all had things they kept hidden.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

New Romonavka, Celebration of the Second Battle of Romonavka

“…So I found myself in command of the entire force and had no idea if Boris was alive. “Danislav said. “Boris had made me second in command the night before. I wasn’t sure I was his best choice for the role, but it had to be someone who wasn’t in his bunker. I thought Paul would have been a better choice and would have been better out of the bunker. “There was a murmur from the old hands. “Boris pointed out that Paul might be a great XO, hell even a great small unit commander, but with his luck, no sane person would put him in command of an entire operation. “Laughter traveled around the room as the old hands thought on the number of situations Paul had gotten himself into, and somehow out of. Paul saluted Danislav with a beer in his hand and a grin on his face.

“Still and all, we had a good killing that day. We had the enemy outflanked, and although they had light armored vehicles, the tactics we used restricted its utility. The worst they managed to do to us was take out Boris’ bunker, and that was more a case of luck than anything. Encircling them and taking out their vehicles probably got rid of a quarter to a third of the NVG’s forces at the time. Nothing more than the svlotsky deserved. We got to hammer them for our dead and what they tried to do to our town and to Mother Russia. “A cheer went up, and glasses clinked in a toast to the Motherland.

The crowd then broke into smaller groups, talking about individual actions. Boris directed an intense gaze on Janna. She had never told the story of what had actually happened in the bunker, not even to him. He felt it would be a good tale, one that could give people a good example of Murphy’s Law. Not that Danislav hadn’t shown that in his story.

His tale was a better example of how proper planning prevents piss poor performance, though.

It also might be a good way to get Gyada accepted and out of her shell socially. She didn’t talk about her past or what it had been like ‘back in the day.’ None of the tales from that day of battle had gotten her to loosen up any either, although she had perked up at the story of a bayonet charge on a small group of shaken NVG around a troop truck.

She finally displayed an interest when the descriptions turned to close in, hand-to-hand combat. She talked to the man who brought up the incident for a bit, discussing the tactics and movements used in bayonet drill. Boris overheard Gyada saying that from the description it was somewhat similar to those used in short spear fighting.

Finally, Boris rolled his eyes at Janna. She looked at him angrily. The anger wasn’t directed so much at him, like the fact that she knew that one way or another the story would become a tale to be told at every future anniversary, either by her or by someone else.

It would become a legend, a part of the history of the region, the conflict and her. She moved quietly to the center of the room, and Danislav saw her. Catching Boris’ eye, he raised his arms and yelled, “Quiet, a new story is to be told.”

Janna flinched slightly and glared at him with some heat. She’d hoped for the noise to cover some of the story. Still, she started with, “There was a blast, and the entire front of the bunker disappeared, and everything went black. When I came to, I’d been thrown against one of the shelter walls. I found myself acting automatically, checking for possible survivors.”

The mercs and ex-military in the room nodded unconsciously at that. It was their training if physically able and taking no fire to check for casualties after an explosion. And with the bunker half collapsed, like everyone in the room knew from previous stories, she wasn’t taking fire.

She continued “Paul had a strong pulse, and his arm still moved. No external wounds and there was fuck all I could do about any internal bleeding or damaged organs. Above my skills. So I turned to Boris. He still had a weak pulse, but I couldn’t see him breathing. What I could see was a four-foot splinter from the bunker wall pinning him to the chair. It was at least six inches at the base…” As she delved more deeply into the telling of the story her fears from the event left her and she became more animated and portrayed it with strength and vividness.

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“…Waking up looking like a famine victim was one of the more unpleasant experiences I’ve had.” Janna concluded the story of how she had saved Boris and unintentionally initiated the change to a werebear. She knew the cost, the other prices she was still paying. The last thing she would do is encourage people by telling them that it wouldn’t be that way for someone else.

Boris approved and his gaze settled on each and every Were in the room. None here knew both his and Janna’s nanites had been modified to prevent that happening again. Nor did they need to know.

For once, even Paul kept his mouth shut.

“Tis a lesson to learn in the story, too. That Changing someone isn’t something done lightly.” Boris said in a hushed tone, the memory of his close miss clear on his face. It was obvious to everyone in the room how much nearly losing Janna still haunted him. “It has a price, like everything else, and the price can be the death of someone. We will do our best to prevent unnecessary deaths, we have things that might help. But there is no ‘Silver Bullet’ that guarantees a fix here. People will die if we Weres aren’t careful when, who, and where we try to change someone. Understood?”

A murmur traveled the room. Heads nodded, both Were and unmodified human. It was clear that the lesson had gone home… and that there was now a better understanding of the price many had paid over the centuries. A price forged from love more often than not, but a steep price at that.

Faraday Cage, Beast Caves, Russia.

It was a simple question that triggered the breakthrough that they needed on what the hell had happened at this location. Why a Kurtherian had crashed here after (based on the nature of Gyada’s transformation) having traveled to other locations on the planet.

Gyada asked, “Why can’t I hear her voice anymore? I thought she’d just gone quiet, resting, thinking or afraid for a while, but this is far longer than she’s been silent before.” She paused “I think it is a ‘her’ at least. It’s hard to tell.” She grinned a bit impishly. “From what I’ve learned I was trapped for eight centuries. It didn’t seem that long to me, but to be honest, I think I just let time flow around me. Some of what she taught me was fascinating,” a look of wonder crossed her face, “and I may have lost track of how long we were talking. I still find it hard to believe any race with the knowledge can cross space, see other worlds. But with what I’ve seen that we as a species have achieved while I was… away, I am starting to understand.”