The repetitive drip of water had been keeping Lukai awake for hours. He was never really sure from where the sound was coming, and he was too exhausted to try and figure it out. His situation wasn't exactly optimal for investigation; the dark, musty stone cell in which he was lying wasn't the most inviting place in the universe. Amidst the shadows, he occasionally caught glimpses of rats far larger than they should have been scurrying across the floor, partially illuminated by the sliver of light spilling outward from the thick wooden door keeping him from his freedom. His stomach rumbled, as if to suggest that he should actually try to catch one of the foul things. He wasn't sure when he'd eaten last, but he certainly wasn't so desperate that he would try such a thing.

Not yet, at least.

He sighed and rolled back over to face the wall, tracing the lines of the stonework in his mind. The small wooden cot chained to the wall was hardly big enough for even an average man, and ursaren were typically a little larger than average. A race of bear-like creatures with feline tails and legendary tempers, most people would have found it difficult to capture an ursaren at all. Unfortunately, bar fights were somewhat less well-received on Caldor IV than in most other places, and Lukai found himself swarmed by armored guards who could easily subdue a drunken 300-pound brawler. Even drunk, fighting twelve guards with spears aimed at his unarmored torso was not a fight he really wanted. His weapons were confiscated, and he wondered if they'd forgotten about him; he had seen the sun rise and fade at least twice. He stared blankly at the shackles attached to both forearms and the link between; he couldn't break them. Not for lack of trying, of course. Lukai had the scarring underneath to prove it.

A barely audible click made Lukai's ear twitch, followed by a creaking noise and more light spilling into the room. The sounds of armored metal boots shuffling behind him made him curious enough to roll over, in time to see three armored guards. Despite the archaically designed structure around him, Lukai could vouch for how sturdy that armor was--easily up to modern, Imperial standard. He sat upright and the three visibly tensed.

"What." It was a simple statement, but his voice echoed throughout the small, cramped cell. He stood up, easily dwarfing the tallest guard by nearly twelve inches.

"You're being released," the lead guard said, quickly regaining his composure. "Lord Granspear wishes to see you."

The two guards moved to either side of the door and, as the first backed out, Lukai felt a sharp magnetic pull dragging the shackles forward through the door. He didn't fight it. He knew exactly what it was--a method employed by most civilian authorities in Imperial space to transport prisoners with enough physical strength or mental capacity to easily resist authority. He had heard that they suppressed Aether as well, but having no skill in the field, he really couldn't say one way or the other. It was still night, torch-shaped lights hanging on either side of the corridor as the soldier led him out of the lower dungeons. The magnetic pull wasn't so irritating when one cooperated, so Lukai did just that; he figured it best to figure out who to punch for his incarceration some other time. He was hot, hungry, and irritable, and it showed on his face and in the slumped over manner in which he walked. If he were more like feral ursaren on his own home world, he doubted even that armor would have saved these three from a fully unhindered blood rage.

"We're here." Lukai looked up at the tall, sturdy wooden door before the group; the guard stepped aside and raised one gauntlet-clad hand towards him. There was an audible buzzing noise as the shackles around his wrist slipped off, drawn into the guard's grip. "Go on in; Lord Granspear is waiting for you."

The ursaren shot the three helmeted guards a hateful glare before reaching for the door handle, shoving it open. It took a considerable amount of strength to do so, and he stepped inside, squinting a bit at the darkness. The room wasn't terribly large, and there was only a long table in the middle of the room, at the end of which sat the man who Lukai assumed was Lord Granspear. The humanoid stood up, wearing a unique-looking armor bearing some similarities to his guards. From what Lukai could tell, it was notably stronger. Lukai was still rubbing at his wrists as the man approached him, both their eyes dangerously narrowed as Lukai spoke first.

"...you didn't have to leave me in there so long, Taldon."

"The hell I didn't." Taldon was just over six feet tall--still shorter than the broad-shouldered Lukai. That didn't stop him from prodding a chastising finger into the white U-shaped patch crossing Lukai's furry chest, scowling in clear disappointment. "A drunken brawl? In MY city? What the hell where you thinking? No wait... you weren't thinking, were you? Always leading with your fists and not your brain. You're lucky I didn't leave you down there for a week."

"Not feedin' me was an unnecessary touch."

"I should have turned you over to the military," Taldon snapped back, frowning. "This country has enough problems without mercenaries thinking they can just do as they please."

"...right. Sorry." Lukai frowned a bit; he wasn't much for apology, but he recognized that he owed Taldon at least that. He knew Caldor IV's situation; it was why here was there in the first place. There'd been a war raging across the planet over Imperial rule, and Taldon had called him for assistance. On paper it seemed like a waste of money to pay as much as Lukai was making from answering the call, but Taldon was an old and dear friend of his. Lukai also had quite the reputation as an infiltration and demolitions expert--meaning, to most, that he could get into any place and blow stuff up without killing himself.

Lukai sat down, stomach growling in protest. "...so I'm guessin' you didn't call me here just to starve me."

"No. And normally I wouldn't even think of calling a mercenary for such a thing, but... we've run into a bit of a problem." Taldon walked over to the window and Lukai looked after, his artificial eye adjusting a bit, altering his vision to see better outside the visible spectrum of light--essentially allowing the ursaren to see in the dark. "The rebellion has some sort of new weapon... we don't know what it is, and we can't get close enough to find out..."

"...so you want me to sneak in there and see what's going on."

"Exactly. I know sneaking around isn't your usual thing, but..."

"Heh... no. No it's not." The ursaren grinned broadly and shrugged. "My crew and I can handle it though... How much intel have you got?"

"Not much. Their complex is pretty big, even from the outside looking in... None of our soldiers can even get near it. Infiltrating will take more precision than simply running at their borders with a full-blown army. Even the animals are under their influence, which makes me wonder about what sort of things they're developing in there..."

"Okay..." Lukai nodded slowly, leaning forward on the table. "What about aerial strikes?"

"...no. The last time we tried that, there was..." Taldon's voice trailed off for a moment; Lukai saw his eyes turn skyward. "They've been mutating a lot of the local wildlife. Somehow, they managed to do so with a dragon, and..."

"...wait, a real dragon?" Lukai's glowing right eye, still modifying his vision, widened a bit as a single bushy brow rose in disbelief. "I thought those were extinct on Caldor?"

"As did I. It was definitely partly organic in nature, but our weapons seemed useless against it. I'm not sure why. Something else that, perhaps, you can find out for us."

"...mm." The ursaren folded his arms across his chest, nodding slowly as he processed what little information he had to go on. Really, he'd worked with much, much less, and for a friend as old as Taldon Granspear, it wasn't something he could really call an inconvenience. "This is really gonna cost ya."

"I figured as much." Taldon nodded, hands clasped behind his back.

"You can start with not letting me waste away here; I'm starving."