a hallow victory

after everything i'd gone through, i'd finally reached the pack of the primordial feather's precious crate.

caleb and kirsten had done an amazing job distracting the crimson talons, which gave me and carmen a chance to sneak to the crate without incident. as an aside who knew that universities had some many tunnels running through the bottom of them? it made bypassing the pack a snap.

emerging in the store room... funnily enough it was the ONLY room i hadn't already seen in the whole geology collections!... i finally set eyes upon the wooden box that had been causing so much trouble.

it looked harmless enough, and for a brief moment i thought maybe ruffled feather had been wrong about the threat it represented. then it hit me. the smell from the box... i knew that scent well! almost as well as my own.

carmen didn't notice my hesitation and marched towards the crate, and finding a easy to release latch opened the lid. "oh my," she murmered softly, in shock at what she saw.

i already knew what was inside, yet i had to make sure i wasn't somehow mistaken. oh how i wanted to be wrong! i let out a howl of dispair when i had my confirmation.

we sat there a good two or three minutes both just staring at the crate, though to me it felt like years or centuries. my brain was numb with anger and depression. how could the pack have done this? how?!? they truly were monsters...


even carmen, who didn't know the full extent of what she'd just seen picked up on the scope of the crate's cargo. "this is a mistake right?" she looked to me desperately. "i mean that could just be a decoy or extra security? the real artifact is another of these boxes."

i just shock my head. carmen may not have recognized the contents, but i certainly did. there was no way it was a mistake. it was exactly what the pack had wanted in the box, and i knew why.

i explained to her as best i could through howls of sadness (a theropod's version of crying) what this cargo was, and what it represented. she looked helplessly at the crate. when i'd finished my tale of woe carmen offered. "we could take it out of the crate, and then destroy the box. hopefully the pack would think we'd destroyed..."

i cut her off. "we don't have time carmen," i stated coldly. my rage at the pack was tapping into my surpressed tyrannosaurus instincts. "besides, it's in no condition to be taken out of the box."
"what do you do then?" carmen asked.

"nothing," i could only defeatedly admit. the pack had won. we couldn't wheel the crate out of here. i could smell theropods still out in the hallway (the daspletosaurus in particular). we certainly couldn't destroy the crate's contents, for we'd be as bad if not worse then the pack... which meant we could only leave the crate in the pack's claws. which was the worst outcome of all!

suddenly carmen lunged for a clipboard. "not on my watch!!!" carmen declared. she started madly writing away on a form. i was starting to feel ill from my crate discovery to clue into what she was doing, till near the end of the form she asked me. "what's the address of that museum you work for?"

i told her, now snapped out of my defeated daze. what on earth did she want to know that for?

"there, done!" she stated with a final scribbling of her signature.

"done what?" i asked dumbfoundedly.

"a two zero one transfer form," carmen proudly informed me. i just blinked stupidly. "the pack was able to sneak this into here by logging it as an offical addition to our collections. well if it is in my collections, than it is up to me to have the final say on where any item goes. as of such i just override their request to ship it back to their home office, and am now sending it to you in new zealand."

i said nothing, but instead lept onto carmen with a furious hug. "calm down. calm down," carmen insisted. "just don't ever underestimate the power of collections!" she winked.

for a moment i was overwhelmed with absolute joy. we'd won the day, and more to the point dealt a serious blow to the pack. however facing the crate again, my momentary celebration fell on its face. the contents of that crate were by far one of the evilest things i'd ever seen anyone (human or dinosaur) do in my personal life...

i had a realization in that moment too. carmen was sending this to me in new zealand... that meant when i got home, suddenly i would be the one responsible to safeguarding the contents of the crate. was i up to that task? could i really survive having to face it all everyday for the rest of my life?

(From the reflections of Desdemona Deinonychus, Crimson Talon and Pack Matriarch of the Pack of the Primordial Feather)

A mournful Royal* howl echoes down the hall. Indicating my plan has come full circle, and been a success.

*[Tyrannosaurid... in this case Traumador]

The Runt** has clearly discovered Razi [Saurornithoides]'s little project. Oh how I wish I could watch his spirits utterly collapse upon discovering that which we have stolen from him. Alas sometimes the greatest predator is that which is unseen.

**[Traumador]

Victory is truly mine!

Had Layla [Oviraptor] not been such an arrogant fool, it would not have been possible. Yet she could not resist in trying to act superior to us true hunters, and give us conflicting and completely inexperienced orders. My Crimson Talons were confused before the battle even began, let alone after Valour [Velociraptor] skillfully muddied the waters.

In the wake of us losing the crate, it will quickly become apparent it was Layla's incompetent leadership that cost us this victory. At the same time my protests throughout this operation will have to be acknowledged, and reveal me to be a far more competent commander than Layla. It shall be my pride and me who ascends within the Pack from the crate now, and not that scheming scavenger!

To think I have the Runt to thank for it all. Not that I haven't left him with a memento of my appreciation!

to be concluded with a phone call

cowtown... everyone's coming here...

well with my trip back to drumheller over it was time to start making my way back "home" to new zealand... meaning i had to pass through the closest big city, calgary, if only really just to get to a real airport (drumheller has a tiny one lane road for an airport).

though i have to say this whole human concept of home is weird to me. home is where you currently live, yet at the same time it is where you once lived... so in my case i'm leaving home to go home?

i guess its just my nomadic predatory instincts conflicting with this concept. back in the cretaceous a tyrannosaur probably didn't really stick around any one place unless there was food hanging around it. meaning our food was really our home... oh well

regardless, i was in for yet another surprise from this trip. not that they're that surprising anymore. i think if something goes according to the plan while i'm here in canada i'll be floored...


i headed to the calgary airport to catch my flight back to new zealand. i don't have clear pictures of the airport, as i've been told you can get in trouble for taking lots of pics around airports. i did sneak in a couple snap shots of these pterosaurs that were hanging around the ceiling of the port though. sadly you don't to fly on the pterosaurs, as i'd hoped.

rather they're just some cool statues to decorate the place. the idea is it shows the evolution of flight, as nestled among the huge quetzalcoatlus and pteranodons was a giant dragonfly ancestor protodonata, and of course my relative archaeopteryx... i didn't notice a bat in there, but for the display to be complete it should have been in there. this was more a work of art than museum display in fairness i guess...

anyways when i went to go get my ticket to new zealand, i was told that someone had rescheduled when i was flying out...

of course i didn't buy my plane tickets in the first place, someone else had (though i still don't know who?)... yet why would they buy me a trip back drumheller, only to trick me into spending some time in calgary?

i found out quick. the ticket clerk had a note to give me, sent by the "party" that had changed my flight.

i would never have guessed in an epoch who or why though...

it was my mysterious informant from the pack of the primordial feather, a coelurosaur who called them self ruffled feather. i hadn't heard from ruffled feather since they had tried to warn me about dr. spectre's attack.
`

ruffled feather was a disgruntled member in the pack who sought to hurt the group. somehow i was useful in this effort, though i wasn't clear on how? i guess my being one of only a handful of coelurosaurs who'd turned down membership in the primordial feather and had survived to tell the tale was handy... somehow?

beyond this i knew nothing about this ruffled feather, not even enough to know if i should call them a he or a she (i'm going with he for now). his note wasn't exactly much help on answering any of my questions either...

Dear Traumador,
`

I'm sorry for the disruption my actions have no doubt caused. I assure you I wouldn't have made them if it were not important.
`

You can not leave Calgary yet. Despite evading you in Drumheller, through that Spectre diversion, the pack it would seem did not lose you.
`

They have retreated to somewhere in Calgary, and they have brought the 14th crate with them! Where exactly I do not know, and I wish I could be of more help.
`



It is crucial that you make sure the contents of that container do not make it back to the pack! Thankfully anyone who can survive a run in with Dr. Spectre, such as yourself, should have no problem against the Crimson Talons. No matter the backup they will be receiving, and I have heard they are getting some!
`



Ruffled Feather
`



ps- How did you beat Spectre in the end exactly?

there was a missing connection somewhere between me and ruffled feather...


he seemed to think i knew what he was talking about, and more to the point what the pack was up to. the problem is i really didn't!
`


causing the miscommunication, i'd had thought it was the pack who was responsible for all the fossil poaching around drumheller. it in fact turned out to be two hardened palaeo-criminals (megan and jo)... i hadn't really thought about why the pack was there any further, as a few things had distracted me... however due to our conversations being interrupted, ruffled feather was never able to realize i was under the wrong impression about what was going on...
`


whatever it was the pack was up to, they had thought it awful important. they'd tried to kill me thinking i was trying to stop them.
`

the pack must have cleared out of the tyrrell during the "Spectre diversion". i know that professor paradigm had done a sweep of the museum looking for them, once he'd rescued me from spectre, but didn't find a trace.
`

so what were they doing in drumheller? ruffled feather had mentioned a "14th crate". i began wondering what it might be or mean...

as i left the airport and headed back into calgary, or cowtown as many call it in alberta, i realized the scope of what ruffled feather had just asked me. i had to find the pack and whatever they were up to somewhere in here!
`

sure, no biggie. i only had a place 50 times bigger then drumheller to search!!!
`

as i looked out over cowtown, i had one reassuring thought. despite the unfun task i'd for some reason agreed to take up, i did have a lot of friends based here in town. with a bit more time here i could catch up with the lot of them, and who knows maybe get one or two of them to help me out...

Elsewhere in Calgary...

(From the reflections of Desdemona Deinonychus, Crimson Talon and Pack Matriarch of the Pack of the Primordial Feather)

I miss the front lines!

At least on the field of battle you can tell where you are. In the midst of the hunt you know what you are to do.

I no longer know any of this with my current mission, helping with this stupid intrigue and espionage debacle Layla, matriarch of the Oviraptorids, has pulled me into.

The mission was simple enough at the beginning. Lead a troop of my Crimson Talons in guarding this "crate 14" from hostiles. At the onset of the mission the enemies were few and easy to counter. Just the runt [Traumador] and a few human members of palaeo-central. With this limited intelligence provided, may I note by our head of intelligence, there was no way I could have predicted a direct confrontation with Lance one of the most dangerous saurians on the planet!

Despite my troop being too small to proper engage Lance, we none the less confronted him to the best of our abilities. Despite taking heavy causalities, we were able to inflict considerable damage to Lance, and through these wounds we Crimson Talons turned this losing situation into a strategic draw. Through this action we kept the crate from harm. Yet when Layla ordered a full retreat, it somehow became my fault we were falling back.

I grow tired of her "command" of the operation.

If not for Layla's political connections throughout the rest of the Pack, I would have ordered my hunters to teach her a lesson in what our pride does to treacherous scavengers such as herself!

Layla is truly an arrogant fool. As she considers herself smart, Layla is under the impression she is somehow dangerous. She seriously believes that in the Packs' daily struggles, it is her schemes that will win the day. I only wish I could put her on the field of battle once, as the coward has never once joined our brave hunters on the front line! Then she would see just how "dangerous" ideas and plans like hers really are in war. The Gondwanaians will not be defeated by thinking. No, they only succumb to the tooth and claw! Which is where we foot soldiers and hunters come in. We are the true power of the Primordial Feather!

Yet Layla has the nerve to walk among us trying to show dominance. If she only knew the danger her presumption was placing her in. All of my troop, especially me, were fighting our instinctive urge to subdue her. To have earned our utter contempt as she has is a dangerous thing. For we normally reserve this for our enemies.

My lieutenant Valor [the Velociraptor] in particular was not handling Layla's demeanor well. The greatest warrior in the pack strode beside the Oviraptor in a ready to pounce stance. Had Layla uttered a single condescending word to Valor, the Oviraptor would have only had a few seconds to regret it. The rest of my hunters were containing their disdain better solely because they followed my lead better. Despite her incredible battle prowess, Valor lacked a soldier's discipline.

Fortunately an altercation was avoided, as Layla said nothing. Either she had picked up on hostile air about her as a hunter would have, or as I personally think she had simply been lucky. Either way she would live. For today at least!

Today we received reinforcements from the Pack. I couldn't have be more pleased with who was sent. A fellow matriarch of the Pack, Razi [the Saurornithoides] of the Troodontid pride.

Razi's assignment indicated just how important this crate had become to the Pack's strategy. It now had three of the Pack's main general's in the field to martial it. This was quite a tactical risk. I can only think a handful of battles with this many Matriarchs involved. The scorn for failure would be great. I couldn't help but think it would be Layla's responsibility to accept it if something were to go wrong...

Not that failure was an option. Razi's arrival heralded a shift in the command dynamic. When Layla had requested my help I saw it as my duty to protect the Pack's interests from interference. Especially since the challenge was coming from the whelp if a Royal the Runt! However, Layla misinterpreted my participation as me bowing to her authority. I most certainly would not be tolerating this any longer!

Despite being renowned for cunning like Layla's, Razi was a most able predator. One who had personally lead troops of hunters into countless battles. I'd personally had the honour of hunting along side her, and as a result could respect orders from her. Unlike the coward Layla, who had never once tasted the blood of the enemy!

Razi did not arrive alone, however. Being a strategic and tactical prodigy among the Pack, Razi was far too valuable an asset to leave unescorted. She arrived accompanied by one of the Royal prides's most feared warriors, Vicsurus Daspletosaur. Vicsurus is one of the renowned Daspletosaurus"triplets", who serve as the Royal's personal elite guard and assassins. Her being Razi's bodyguard indicated this crate affair was of great importance to even the Grand Matriarch.

Razi and Layla formally greeted each other with signs of complete respect and admiration. As befitted their Matriarchal status. I disciplined myself, as I grew resentful of being excluded. I was equal in rank to either of them, and unlike Layla had actual spilled my own blood in this mission. Yet as it was Layla who had "saved" Razi's crate, it was she who was acknowledged.

I on the other hand was relegated to greeting the new hunter to join the mission. We warriors are not ones for pointless show and formality. Though I resented not being acknowledged by my fellow Matriarchs, I in truth much preferred the simple exchange with Vicsurus.

Though I despise the Royals as a Pride, I have a grudging respect for Vicsurus and her two sisters. Not only had her sister Rancor personally saved my life in battle from a Gondwanaian Carcharodontosaurid, but the ferocity of the three Daspletosaurus matched that of any raptor in my Pride. Something few other Royals could not boast.

For her part Vicsurus was far more accepting of us Dromaeosaurids than most in the Royal Pride. She'd been in too many battles where it was us who had turned the tide in the Primordials' favour, rather than the Royals.

Leading Razi to her prized crate, it was here we Crimson Talon's were finally recognized for our heroism. Razi personally thanked me for my part in protecting her prize. With it she could now get back on task refining its contents into, what she assured us would be, the Pack's greatest weapon.

Perhaps I was too hasty before in wishing to return to the frontline. At least until this weapon is completed!

To be Continued...

i'm a what???

i think i need a vacation from my vacation!

at least the worst part of it all is over... or at least i hoped!

professor paradigm had just rescued me from being dinonapped and dissected by the evil (and chatty!) dr. spectre...

the way paradigm had saved me though was the biggest shock of the day!

spectre wanted to cut me apart because he thought i wasn't a tyrannosaurus rex, but rather something else. which kind of ran in the face of everything i thought i knew about myself!

paradigm had beat spectre to the punch though, and had not only already studied me on the same suspicion, but had announced to the entire scientific community i was a new species of tyrannosaurus... a Tyrannosaurus traumadori...

as the professor approached me (spectre had hit him and bolted) i struggled against the ropes tying me up, to try and convey i wanted out! NOW!!!

"hold your ungulates!" paradigm barked at me as he approached. "of course i'm going to untie you," he growled at having to say the obvious.

then a though occurred to me, but i couldn't ask it properly due to my mouth being tied shut. paradigm understood me though! "no, i would not worry about jaden coming back," the professor addressed my concern about dr. spectre back tracking and attacking us again. "he might hold 'something' of a grudge against me, but the scientific prize here has been claimed. he won't risk being captured if there is no discovery in it for him."

with my mind put to ease about a follow up attack (which had been happening a lot lately), i just instinctively asked the next thing on my mind. not that it came out sounding like this, but i tried to say. "Tyrannosaurus traumadori, what is up with that?"
`
unlike dr. spectre, who heard whatever he wanted in my muffled talk, paradigm seemed unphased by my incoherent words (leading me to suspect he'd dealt with a lot of people when they were tied up!). "it is what you are," paradigm informed me, though he clarified. "scientifically speaking, mind you."
`
still muffled, i asked. "why has everyone told me i'm a tyrannosaurus rex my whole life then?!?" though the rex sounded funny through my closed mouth...
`
"because in essence that is what you've always been!" paradigm assured me, as he started delicately undoing the ropes.
`
"why the different species then?" i immediately wondered. "what changed?"
`
"on all fronts, absolutely nothing, and that is the reason," paradigm said, but it made me more confused, and a little upset frankly. i thought he wasn't answering my question seriously, and though it might sound silly, but being a tyrannosaurus rex has always been such a key part of who i see myself as. now i was being told that wasn't who i was anymore, but for no reason!?!
`
paradigm picked up my irritation (how does he do it?... i didn't say anything this time). "tell me traumador, when was the last time you measured yourself?" he wondered of me. i shrugged, not being able to recall. "well the last official measurement i have for you, sent to me by craig in 2006, had you at 2 metres long exactly and 51 centimetres tall. my own measurements taken one year ago, had you at 2.1 metres long and 54 centimetres tall. does that sound like a significant change to you?"
`
i shook my head... in agreement? how does that work. i was shaking my head no, but it meant i agreed with paradigm... that made little to no sense to me. stupid tiny brain!
`
"preciously," the professor carried on. "a tyrannosaurus rex your age would be at least three times that size, and would still be growing. not only has your growth ceased, but based on your bones it has finished."
`
i threw him a quizzical look wanting to know how could he tell that from my bones? "all animals with bones, have a number of spots in their skeletons that aren't solid while an animal is still growing. we call these loose areas sutures, and they let bones grow without having to break themselves in the process. when the animal finishes growing the sutures seal together, to the skeleton stronger."

"every single one of your sutures have sealed, traumador," paradigm informed me point blank. "you are as big as you are ever going to get."
`
wow! that was a big (actually small come to think of it!) bit of information to take in... i'd always thought i was just a late grower, and that one day i'd get as big as the other tyrannosaurs. for as long as i can remember, i've always feared everyone looking down on me was because i'm a dwarf of what i should be... a true tall mean tyrannosaurus rex... but i'd always thought a day would come where i'd get that respect when i finally grew tall.
`
paradigm had just dashed those hopes... if he was right, and frankly who was i to think he was wrong!?!... this was how i was going to be the rest of my life. a small laughable joke of an excuse of my kind.

paradigm finished untying me. "there has to be some sort of mistake," i pleaded with him, though i knew the professor was pretty dead set on his conclusion.

"there actually was," he said, sparking my hopes, but i should have known better. "something about your mother and father's interbreeding caused a mutation in you and your siblings."

"i'm a mutant?" i asked dumbly. i thought those were something only in movies and comic books... "shouldn't i be super strong, or advanced or something.?"

"no," paradigm dismissed. "while in many cases mutation can produce new characters, and thus start a new pathway on the evolutionary tree. on occasion mutations cause back tracks to more ancestral traits."

"i'm more primitive than a t-rex?" i asked horrified.

"preciously!" paradigm excitedly responded. "the combination of your parents somehow tapped into long dormant genes in the tyrannosaurid genome. the resulting clutch of offspring, you and your siblings again, came out with traits far more similar to ancestral tyrannosauroids then a proper tyrannosauriane. the closest analogue we know of so far would have to be raptorex!"

"so won't that make me a raptorex?" i asked confused.

"no, traumador," paradigm was clearly trying to keep his patience. "you're still a tyrannosaurus, just a very weird one. you still have all the proper bones and relative proportions of a tyrannosaurus rex. just, you have not grown as large or robust. you have stopped growing while in a juvenile form for your genus. this is similar to the adult form of your ancestors, like raptorex or guanlong, but unlike them your carrying features meant for a much larger size. this is where your mutation occurred. you are genetically misprogrammed to tap into this genetic memory of the growth pattern of a primitive tyrannosauroids, but yet you still have a tyrannosaurus rex body plan."

"with this in mind, if we were to classify you biologically in current zoological convention with modern living animals, you would probably be still considered a tyrannosaurus rex. however, acceptance of vivus-palaeontology has not taken hold as much as i have pushed for. meaning you are still evaluated in terms of true palaeontology, and that is just off bone analysis," paradigm went off on an outloud tangent... the first time he'd shown anything in common with dr. spectre...

"when your skeletal system is the sole criteria, your suture solidification suddenly presents you as a marked departure from excepted tyrannosaurus rex physiology. i'm sure practically you would be fully capable of breeding with another tyrannosaurus rex, and produce viable offspring. at least if one could solve the height issue. again as palaeontology has not embraced the opportunities presented by vivus- fossils yet, this line of logic is currently moot within the established scientific establishment."

paradigm looked to me, as though this meant something to me. i could only muster a blink in response. i'd followed him up to the point where i was not a raptorex. however i still couldn't get how my being small didn't make me either a tyrannosaurus rex nor a raptorex. what the difference between both of these and me.

"in lay terms, traumador," the professor explained. "you are a dwarf tyrannosaurus rex. however as palaeontology has yet to accept living dinosaurs like yourself as acceptable specimens, i could only submit your skeleton. because you are already an adult form, which is so much more gracile and small then an adult tyrannosaurus rex, i was left no choice but to assign you a new species. this is just an artificial name, like so many others. however it is accurate from the modern taxonomic point of view."

i was starting to get it, though not directly from the prof's answer (weird, with my brain i'm not used to making logical connections like this). i wasn't a proper tyrannosaurus rex because my body wanted to be more LIKE a raptorex, but yet i still had all the t-rex bits.

meaning i was a dwarf...

i let out a wail on this now confounded fact, how could i not? it confirmed i was going to stay a pathetic runt the rest of my life!!! (a t-rex wail is not pleasant... the baby t-rex in jurassic park two lets one out several times in the early film).

"stop that at once!" paradgim screamed. i stopped in shock at his angry outburst, but i was still very upset and sad. the professor saw this, and calmly (the nicest he'd ever been to me) asked. "why does this upset you?"

i blabbered out my fears of being small. not only was everyone going to keep thinking me a tiny nothing, but i was a pathetic weak primitive creature!

paradigm laughed in response to that last part. i seriously was wishing dr. spectre HAD cut me apart! "is that why you are upset traumador? because you think primitive is bad?"

i nodded, but unsure based on how the professor asked his question... so now i was agreeing with my head to disagree! man human expression is so weird!

"traumador, despite what our culture thinks, primitive does not mean old and obsolete!" he assured me. "primitive is simple that which came before us in time. nothing more. in some instances we the later descents gain more useful "advanced" traits, but these are only advanced because they came after the original form. in many cases these advanced traits are not actually superior, and in the long run the 'advanced' form goes extinct, where the more primitive traits could have or do survive!'

"how is a tiny runt like me greater than the greatest killer the planet has ever known?" i asked.

"can you fit through a door?" paradigm challenged. i didn't see what that had to do with my being pathetic... until it occurred to me, he was 100% correct. sure in the cretaceous i might have been in big trouble, but the human age was way different! i was totally better adapted for buildings then a proper tyrannosaurus rex!!!

the professor didn't stop cheering me up there. "could a proper tyrannosaurus ever hope to catch you if you saw them coming? no they couldn't! not with their huge heavy bodies. sure they could catch equally big prey, but i was not only smaller, i had frame built for super speed. my light body wasn't a burden on my super long, but yet powerful legs. i hadn't tried it, but i could probably keep up with an ostrich in a race!

the new wave of enthusiasm must have caused me to perk up, as before i knew it i was standing on the table and swaying back and forth (instinctive behaviour anticipating a hunt... sort of like a dog wagging its tail... only mine had a more deadly origin). "that's more like it..." professor paradigm happily pointed at me. "a fine specimen of tyrannosaurus traumadori!"

"now if only i could figure out why jaden came after you in the first place?" paradigm thought out loud... which caused me to pause too... why had dr. spectre shown up when he did?

if only me and paradigm had had x-ray vision...

if we did, we would have noticed what layla oviraptor and desdemona deinonychus were loading onto a truck totally unnoticed out back of the tyrrell (as both me and paradigm were on the other end of the very BIG museum!). their precise crate... with a cargo so important the pack of the primordial feather had tried to kill me for it!

now they had succeeded at removing it from the prying eyes of myself, and more importantly palaeo-central and paradigm!

to top it off none of us had even the tiniest idea what it carried. which as i was going to learn was really bad news... really bad for us all... especially me!!!

to be continued...

the spectre menace

(From Layla Oviraptor's personal journal)

I have difficulty finding a word to express what I am feeling at the current moment. There are too many options.

My hope had been to protect Crate 14 from the Pack[of the Primordial Feather]'s enemies. Instead I have now ended up with not one, but as many as three of these enemies all actively trying to interfere with the project!

Making this incredibly stressful situation all the more unbearable has been the never ceasing presence of Desdemona Deinonychus, my self-inflicted accomplice. She has clung to me the last week like a fresh hatchling, unable to fend for herself. I normally find her unbearable, but this new defeated Desdemona has me yearning for her "old" arrogant and insufferable self I'd some how lost.

I understand defeat is something a hunter [hunter=warrior or soldier in pack lingo] like Desdemona is unaccustomed too, but she has become truly pathetic at moment. The way she sulks about you won't guess she is the matriarch of the feared dromaeosaurid pride, that alone the captain of their dreaded Crimson Talons. Making this all the worse she is now beginning to shed some of her disgrace onto me and make me appear equally weak.

My bringing Desdemona had proven a grave mistake. She certainly was going to be of little use to me now other than perhaps directly guarding the crate. If the overall situation was to be salvaged it was going to be up to me, like usual.

I had formulated a new strategy to try and distract our enemies from the crate, and hopefully kill some of them along the way!

As it was just a distracting tactic, I was at the simultaneously have to maneuver the crate out of harms way. I briefed Desdemona on my plan for the crate, and the Crimson Talons' new role escorting it on its way.

"We are retreating!" Desdemona stated in disgust. The first hint that the arrogant raptor hadn't lost all her spark. To a hunter like Desdemona a repositioning and regrouping like I was about to stage was seen as cowardice. "Why?!?" she then demanded

"Do I really have to answer that?" I responded in annoyance, as I was hardly in the mood for her stubbornness. However rather then let the rhetorical question do, Desdemona defiantly stood waiting for me to acknowledge her question. Fine, if she wished for my 'opinion', then she was going to get it! "We need to retreat Desdemona, because you and your precious Crimson Talons utterly failed in eliminating the Runt like you were supposed to!"

"You dare imply that I and the Talons failed like incompetent fools?!? You speak so arrogantly for one who the Lambeosaur would have crushed in seconds!" Desdemona hissed defensively, I'd hit a nerve. Though I may have done too good a job. The raptor's tail was curving upwards to assume a pre-pounce stance. I'd seen Desdemona dispatch too many opponents (both of within the pack and out of it) to ignore this subtle threat.

"You are taking my statement too seriously," I pretended to assure Desdemona. I had meant for it to be a biting insult. However she was right. "I don't expect you or the Talons to be capable of defeating Lance. Especially when he is the one ambushing you."

My acknowledging Lance's prowess as a "hunter" disarmed Desdemona. We both stewed silently for a moment on the topic of the troublesome hadrosaur. Never before had any prey been as dangerous as Lance. He was such a capable warrior that he'd even bested some of the Royals in combat. [Royal= Tyrannosaurid in pack lingo]

"We should stand out ground! This is our museum. It is time we demonstrated it!" Desdemona boldly challenged as she returned to the conversation. "We simply need to bring in more hunters."

I openly laughed at this suggestion. "This is not our museum, Desdemona, you should know that. It is and always has been Professor Paradigm's favourite. He tolerates our presence here as it would cause a confrontation to get us out. That and I think he tries to use it to keep tabs on what we are doing. If he ever thought it would be to his advantage to oust us from here, Paradigm would do it in a moment. He is one of our most effective enemies," I cursed out loud.

The Professor has always been one of the greatest threats to the Pack of the Primordial Feather. Him and his Palaeo-Central organization have foiled many of our best laid plans, and now that Paradigm had finished forming and training this Task Force of his, he was all the more dangerous...

"Exactly, it will take a confrontation to remove us from this place!" Desdemona tried to convince me. "Paradigm has already gathered most of his strength here. Let us crush it! All we need to do is gather our hunters from North America, and he will be a problem of the past. Think of the glory that will be bestowed on both of us for such a feat?!?"

To think moments ago I'd wanted Desdemona back to her usual self! She was so busy imagining leading our troops to victory her eyes were visibly glazed over. "There will be no stand off with Paradigm," I dismissed her whole stupid idea. Desdemona was about to protest, but I cut her off. "Think you stupid predator! Paradigm would hear the instant we sent out a summons. Before our forces could properly gather he'd overpower us, and take the crate. More to the point even if we were to rally a proper war party, do you seriously want to risk the crate in the middle of a battle?"

Desdemona's only reply was a dumbfounded blink. I'd ejected her from her envisioned victory, and overwhelmed her with the reality of our situation. Rather then risk her recomposing herself, and starting another irrelevant argument I decided to tell her my entire plan.

"You are to mobilize the Talons to extract the crate in five hours. A truck will be showing up then," I instructed her. She was about point out the still outstanding point of Paradigm, his Runt and the Task Force. "Leave Palaeo-Central to me."

My last claim was too much for the raptor to handle, for once she openly laughed at me. Something she rarely would dare to do. "How do you plan on defeating them exactly?" I couldn't blame her for asking. If I had to combat even just the Runt, and his Royal predatory physiology, I won't fair well. That alone against Paradigm or his Ornithischian lackeys.

Luckily this couldn't have been further from my plan. "I'm not intending to take over your role as the prime hunter, so calm yourself Desdemona," I jokingly assured her. "I simply am going to use our enemies existing weaknesses against them."

Desdemona was intrigued but simply tilted her head in curiosity rather then ask a dumb question. So, I decided to reward her for staying silent. "Their attentions are already divided by supposed fossil poaching. Paradigm and the Task Force are busy scrabbling around the badlands, while the Runt has missed the crate altogether and gone to prepared collections for some reason."

We both chuckled over that mistake on the Runt's part. After my confrontation with him the other day, I was very concerned he was going to make a move for the crate. Despite posting the Crimson Talons to guard the crate, I wasn't confident we could keep it safe. The Runt had been demonstrating an annoying ability to beat the odds.

"How are you going to use this poaching distraction to our advantage?" Desdemona inquired.

"I am leaving you to prepare to crate for departure, while I go and make a deal with Spectre." I answered.

Hearing the name Spectre, Desdemona's tail went rigidly straight, a raptor's version of fear. "THE Spectre?" she nearly whispered out of disbelief. Despite not being a warrior of her caliber, I had just earned Desdemona's respect.

"Yes the one and the same Spectre," I reinforced. "Which is why I leave you in command of the crate and its retreat. If I do not return, I leave it to you to pass on news of my sacrifice to the rest of the pack." Desdemona bid me farewell with a solemn bow, as a show of respect.

I tried to keep my composure as I marched past her and her now onlooking Crimson Talons. Absolute anxiety and dread now raced through my body, as I realized I was beyond planning and imaging my battle plan. I now had to leave the safe confides of my imagination and enact these deeds in real life. In other words, I was actually going to have to meet with Dr. Spectre now!

As I approached the isolated spot in the badlands outside the museum we had arranged by email I once again had to compose myself. For the mammal Spectre was already waiting for me.

"You say you have something of interest to me," he coldly stated through his large breathing apparatus, causing the words to be eerily distorted.

"I do," I tried to calmly reply, but I failed. My only hope was that his understanding of my Oviraptorian tongue was not strong enough to grasp my emotional expressions. As they are very different from human mammalian signals.

His eyebrows raised in predatory anticipation, as he clearly detected my stress. "You better be right, Primordial Feather. I've come a very long way to be here on your word, and me and this place don't have a shall we say agreeable past. I'd hate to have returned here because you are 'mistaken'."

I tried to calm myself by reminding myself he was just another mammal like the rest. However I was too sound of mind to be fooled by self rationalization like this.

Spectre was no mere human, though at first glance one could be deceived. He was a palaeontologist, the one group of mammals we Vivus-Dinosaurs deal with on a day to day basis. Unlike him though, the majority of them are weak pathetic things equipped with only knowledge about us Vivus survivors. Spectre was not only one of the most intelligent of them, but he was also armed with far more then his large brain. For despite his inferior frame, Spectre was hunter easily of Desdemona or even the Royals level.

Of all the players in the ongoing Vivus-War, Spectre was the most singularly deadly player in the fold. Yes, any of the factions could crush him with its entirety, but the effort of doing so and the damage he would inflict upon it would leave that faction defenseless against the rest.

I took an incredible risk approaching him. Especially as I was about to try and coerce him into acting on the Pack's behalf. Be it only as an aside. My hope was the gain he stood to make from my proposal would outweigh the fact I was making a gain as well.

If I failed to convince him, there was good reason I had told Desdemona to be prepared for my demise. Spectre was infamous for his brutality. Especially when trying to acquire palaeontological specimens. I did not want to think of what he might do to a Vivus-fossil such as myself to render me into the spectacular specimen I potential represented.

With this in mind I explained my reason for contacting Spectre, and my suspicions as to what the Runt might represent scientifically. I then waited for his reply in the most terrifying and drawn out seconds of my life. Keeping in mind I have faced down Carcharodontosaurids before on the front line of the Vivus-wars, and this fear now did not compare.

The answer I got was no cause of relief. He drew his fingers together and cackled. A most disturbing sound due to both the malice it betrayed and the alteration its sound underwent through his breather.

"If your hypothesis is correct, I am in your debt Primordial," he mused. "This is too perfect. Especially with Alvar in such close proximity!" Spectre referenced Paradigm by his first name.

As if I didn't need another reminder of this man's dangerous nature, he directly referenced the feud between himself and Paradigm. There were few the Professor feared, but Spectre was certainly was the chief amongst this list. Like all great enemies they had once been the best of allies, only to betray each other. Now they fittingly displayed their animosity to the world in the form of scars so great they needed breathing masks to survive them.

Spectre reached for his trademark Katana, and I suddenly went numb expected to be dispatched by it. I misinterpreted his intentions, for a moment later Spectre pivoted and began walking away, clearly on the hunt.

"Just so we are clear, Primordial," he cautioned, slowing his pace for a moment. "I am well aware you are using me as a distraction against Paradigm. Though the discovery you have alerted me too is ample compensation. Just be warned, if 2003. 12. 7. [Traumador's official fossil catalogue number] is not what you claim he is, then I will be coming to claim something of equal value from your beloved pack." With that he marched off into the badlands.

I wasn't keen on sticking around. Especially with one of the most dangerous human predators now stalking these badlands.

As I reentered the museum and retook command of the crate's removal I suddenly was overjoyed. I had not only made a successful deal with the devil, but I had now sent him hunting my enemies. There was the slim possibility he would come looking to collect later, but that was only if I was wrong in my guess about the Runt. Something I was certain I was not!

To be continued with Several Unexpected Surprises...

meddling worries (pack meddling part 1)

(From Layla Oviraptor's personal journal)

I find myself at the Tyrrell today, which is most unusual. Though it still proves useful, this museum is not the sort of place I can effective maintain my position in the Pack [of the Primordial Feather]. At least until possibly today.

Typically I like to stay close to the front lines, and monitor the war closely, though not too close and risk being caught in the trenches, mind you. I'm no hunter [in the pack hunter=warrior]. I shouldn't have to divide my attention as much as I have been lately.

The Gondwanaians have been getting ever more bold in their actions against us. Not to mention the challenges I must contend with from within the Primordial's own ranks. Normally I can't afford being side tracked by minor distractions. The worst of which must be the complaints made by Primordials about their contact with the human public in their postings as museum exhibits.

As a momentary aside, what they think is so hard about being a tourist attraction I do not understand? I served the pack in that capacity for 6 years, and it was by no means my hardest challenge. If anything it was among the easiest times of my life. It also served as a constant reminder just how inferior the mammals are to us saurians, and why we in the pack must always be alert and ready to pounce on any time they show weakness... However I digress.

When one is in my position in the pack, to give credence to such complaints is dangerous. Not only does it waste precious time and energy, but it makes you appear sympathetic to the weak and useless. Such weakness would undermine me as the current right claw advisor to the royals.

Yet here I am at the Tyrrell. Following up just such a complaint. Or at least a complaint on the surface. Had I not caught wind of a very minute detail that is. The encounter in the museum was not with a human, but rather a vivus dinosaurs who thinks he is a human. Which suddenly meant this complaint was not below me. Sadly it accelerated it to my top priority. Especially given its timing.

Thus here I am, in the Tyrrell's learning centre, to get all the intelligence on the situation I can.

The incident was reported by a lowly bull Albertosaur, which means I'm taking an awful risk in pursuing this personally.

He may be of the royal lineage of the pack [Tyrannosaurids] and thus be of a higher pride than myself, but as a male and a splinter [Albertosaurinae] off the true royal line [Tyrannosaurus Rex] he is, practically speaking, far below my station in the pack's hierarchy. So if it turns out I am following a mere tale of fancy, and not what I fear he is suggesting, I risk losing severe face if word of my being here were ever to get out amoung the pack.

I'd gone out of my way to suppress and bury his report. Apart from my two trusted matriarchs, none in the pack had picked up on the issue's significance from what I could tell, and I had waited and watched a good week to ensure it had remained unnoticed before pursuing it.

The bull told me precisely what I'd expected to hear. Last week the runt had indeed shown up here at the museum, at least noticeable shown up. I suspect he has been here longer, but I had no way of confirming that. At least not yet! In either case it was a most annoying and potentially disastrous turn of events.

I'd already planned and put in place an entire operation against Traumador, but in New Zealand. It was perfectly designed to bring the runt to his knees, and force him to join us. It was all in place and ready, but waiting for him in Dunedin. For the longest time the runt has simply disappeared from the map after a reported presence in Australia. Only to show up here!

The runt's Australian appearance I had deemed to be a mere coincidence. Yes on the one hand, he suddenly appeared in close proximity to my other large project, the absconder Lillian, right as I was in the middle of executing my plan against her. However the fact I successful played two of the Primordial's key foes, Paradigm off Annex Co, and thus effectively ended Lillian's last remnant of stardom, was proof the runt wasn't in Australia for any true reason but rather due to pure chance. Had he been there in an effort to stop me, I would have expected the result to be better than him randomly shipping the absconder across the world.

Yet now I wasn't so sure. His timing was too perfect. For a second time no less!

The pack was on the eve of reaping untold gains from our long investment into the "14th crate" (as Razi Saurornithoides, matriarch of the Troodontid pride, had dubbed her pride project). The "crate" was not only being kept here at the Tyrrell, where the runt was now poking around, but we were in the midst of the most sensitive phase of the operation, a timing on the part of the runt I couldn't help but feel nervous about.

Did he know of our plans? In the most likely case of yes (why else would he come back to this the place of his ultimate disgrace?!?) how was it he had come to know them? Most important of all, what was he planning? Clearly he wouldn't have come all the way here unless he planned to challenge us.

I couldn't risk ruin to this operation. Razi had pegged too many of her hopes on the "crate" to have them all come to ruin. As her closest ally among the matriarchs I had no choice but to help her. Especially given the current engagements occupying her in Asia.

Again, my presence here was risking enough. I couldn't afford any more problems developing.

Fortunately being a matriarch made this situation easy to take control of. Especially since none of the prides or matriarchs had ever headquartered here. The Tyrrell was too tied into Paradigm's schemes and thus under heavy monitoring of Palaeo-Central for any of us to be stupid enough to invite his meddling.

My first order of business was silencing the Albertosaur. I couldn't risk anyone I didn't wish to, learn of my presence here or the threat that probably loomed over Razi's project.

The problem was even though we had several pack members present at the Tyrrell, I couldn't retask any of them to help me. I couldn't trust any of them with this information, and more to the point none of them were able hunters. I was going to need extremely able warriors to deal with the runt, and yet not draw attention to themselves or the "crate".

Paradigm's presence here at this time was no coincidence either after all. He clearly suspected something was going on here, but had he known for sure, he wouldn't be waiting. Paradigm as a mammalian hunter. He'd have made the kill already. The "crate" was still safe, but only for now.

None of my own pride were capable hunters or very discrete, and in most cases neither. This meant I was going to have to approach another matriarch for assistance, not a prospect I longed for, but given the situation, a prospect I was going to have to bear none the less.

As I worked my way through the potentials, I could only make one choice. Which pained me, as if I had any other choice I'd have taken it. However I had no other choice.

Swallowing my pride I contacted Desdemona. Fortunately her Dromaeosaurid temperament saw the runts actions as an affront to herself, on behalf of the pack, and thus she missed any political leverage my approaching her might gain her. Meaning I would be gaining Desdemona's assistance at no cost to myself.

More to the point, I was about to get the Crimson Talons at my full disposal. The runt was about to very much regret his decision to meddle in our affairs!

To be Continued in: The Gathering Storm

as a tyrannosaur, i just can't win!

who knew finding the nearly one hundred year old dig sites of one francis slate would be so hard? (well okay, darren tanke knew, and had tried to warn me... but apart from him...)

i needed to find some help if i was going to track down slate's long ago activities. the best place in drumheller to find such help would of course be the royal tyrrell museum.

i hadn't planned on returning to "base camp" till i'd made a find (of either a slate quarry or a cool fossil one), but desperate times call for desperate... uh, well whatever desperate times call for (their mommys?)

as i was popping in on "official" business, and not as a visitor, so i zipped around to the back door of the museum (known to most as the staff entrance). however, today there was a lot of of bodies in the way. a whole bunch of vivus-dinosaurs... which isn't actually that uncommon a sight around the museum.

however the fact they were all ornithischians was a little odd, at least these days. ever since the pack of the primordial feather had muscled their way into being the museum's star attractions, they'd gone to great lengths to kick out all but the coelurosaurian dinosaurs. yet right outside the building were these guys...

two hadrosaurs, a lambeosaurus and parasaurolophus, and a ceratopsian, styracosaur, to be precise. i thought i recognized the lambeosaur.

it was lance, a very grumpy and paranoid duckbill who worked for professor paradigm. though i'd met lance in australia (a very long way from here) it made sense that he was here in canada now, as i'd run into his boss just the other day!

not that lance was hard to remember. even from this far away, you couldn't help but notice the scars that covered his whole body. marks of at least a dozen theropod attacks on him. due to these attacks (i wonder why he'd had so many?) he bore a pretty big grudge against us meat eaters...

i called over hello to the lot of them without thinking, however i should have thought about it before doing it... stupid tiny brain!

they clearly weren't expecting anyone to interupt whatever it was they were doing, and they all reacted fairly startled.

next thing i knew lance spun around trumpeting out a hadrosaur style alarm call (that big crest on his head isn't just to make him another pretty face. it is a giant hollow instrument made of bone... very much like the horn instruments humans make out of metal!).

the styracosaur leaped into a very aggressive defensive posture, and the parasaurolophus which had been relaxing up till then leapt up, and looked ready to flee (though here in the back carpark it didn't really have anywhere to run to!)...

lance almost missed seeing me, i was so much smaller than him (as a full grown lambeosaurus he was closer in length and weight to a small sauropod than what we think of as a duckbill... as lambeosaurs were among the biggest of hadrosaurs). spotting me, lance clearly remembered that he didn't like me, or perhaps it was just hating tyrannosaurids like he does, either way suddenly he charged at me in an aggressive manner.

which was terrifying! i might as well have been in the way of traffic! at a mere 15 kilos i'd be a pancake if his multi ton frame ran over me!

fortunately for me he stopped just in front of me. the styracosaur eased in behind him, never taking his eye (or horn ends) off me, in what seemed to me like a backing up posture to lance...

i felt like i was their enemy, and they wanted to destroy me, even though i'd done nothing to them at all (though i guess in a food chain sense i am their enemy... but that was 65 million years ago, and things have changed a lot since then... right?)

"interesting seeing you here, traumador," lance stated in an accusational way.

i was starting to remember why i didn't like this lance guy much, he was very confrontational. "why is that?" i asked casually. why would it matter to him one way or the other where i was?

"the professor was under the impression you were returning to new zealand," lance said. "which would make sense for a tyrannosaur who was removed from the pack of the primordial feather, as you claim to be. yet here we find you, not a few months from our last encounter, in one of the pack's very strongholds!"

okay i had to hand to lance, wording it like that, it did look kind of suspicious. "no no," i tried to assure him. i was just going to have to explain it, and then he'd see i wasn't in the pack. "i'm here because of a hatching day present someone gave me. this is just a visit back home."

lance just responded with the equivalent of a duckbill laugh (which out of him sounded kinda like a trumpet). the styracosaur snorted through its nose, the horned dinosaur version of a laugh and said. "that has to be one of the worst cover stories i've ever heard, eh lance."

i turned to the styracosaur. he was getting on my nerves just like lance now. "it's not a cover story... uh mr. styracosaur!"

"that's sternberg styracosaur to you, primordial!" the styracosaur sharply corrected me. "you'd do well to remember it too, for when i run you clean through!" he warned flaring his nose horn menacingly in my direction.

that was it. i was done being bullied by these plant eaters. "you listen here!" i angrily pointed at lance.

lance responded completely opposite to how i'd have liked, but not unexpectedly, lunging his head towards me. enough to cause me to yelp and jump backwards... which makes sense as his WHOLE head was as long as me (i'm not even going into the rest of him connected behind that!).

"NO. you listen to me!" he growled (well not actually growled, as hadrosaurs don't really growl). "i warned you once, i saw through this charade of yours. the fact your here just proves what i already know. i'll have my eye on you, and if you so much as blink the wrong way, i have no problem sending a message back to the rest of the pack through you."

sternberg styracosaur made a sound of approval... his horn never once even remotely pointing away from me...

i won't lie, i was scared. lance along with his huge body size was scary, that along having a fully grown bull ceratopsian honing his deadly nose at me like a gun.

at the same time i was getting angry. i'm not proud of it. i like to try to behave like a civilized individual (in other words like a human), but some of my tyrannosaurian instincts were being tiggered by this encounter. i was getting uncontrollably anger at their claiming i was as bad as my cousin larry, and basically calling me a lier.

this anger prompted me to something rather brave for me. "if i was in the pack, what possible trouble could i do here at the tyrrell?" i challenged him. "they already took over this place, and kicked the rest of you out. if i'm this infiltrator you keep going on about, why would i be here where it is only pack members i could see. that would clearly break my cover!"

"don't feign ignorance," lance glared at me with full hatred. "why do you think i am here? the professor knows about this new scheme of the pack's ... you're being here makes perfect sense. what with your close personal past to the subject and all..." lance paused.

what was he going on about? obviously the pack was up to something, but as far as i could tell they were always up to something. had someone seen my bump in with that albertosaur the other day and mistaken that for a "pack meeting" or something? what this "close personal past to the subject" he mentioned? sadly his dismissing me, didn't give me any further clues...

"be warned primordial, and pass it on to your kin. surrender that which is not yours, or else central may not overlook the dominance we've allowed you at this museum... trust me when i say you'll regret coming into conflict with us!" lance stated in a stone cold tone.

i could see no use in trying to convincing these guys i had nothing to do with the pack, they had their minds set on the subject... thankfully having said that, lance and sternberg both stormed off. the parasaurolophus had slipped away unnoticed in the middle of the confrontation.

man oh man. i'm not sure who disliked who more: lance or me. i guess he won as his hatred of me has been sparked by nothing other what i am. i like to think i have the moral high ground, as my not liking him is based on who he is, not what he is!

i'm now getting worried that this, whole me being associated with the pack thing might stick. if that were the case than i'd have to avoid all other vivus dinosaurs! they'd either hate me for not being in the pack, or worse yet hate me for thinking i was in the pack!

i also had slight anxiety over what the pack might be up to? after all, lance had just said he and professor paradigm were here due to them. if the stories i'd been hearing were true, paradigm and lance were key members of palaeo central, and central only deals with BIG problems to the science of palaeontology. meaning that larry and the other coelurosaurs must have been up to something really bad for lance to be here trying to stop them...

as i walked into the museum i tried to sweep all this aside. it wasn't my problem, nor could i let it be. if i poked around, i could end up on the wrong side of either the pack (that albertosaur had wanted to forcibly take me into his custody) or lance (who'd just threatened to harm me).

no i was just going to stick to my current project, of finding a lost quarry of francis slate. it would be productive, keep me away from trouble, and mean i would still have fun!

or at least i hoped it would. as much as i'm trying to forget this whole lance/pack incident, it creeping its way into my thoughts, and causing me to stop enjoying myself, and worry...