Lt. Ghost thought he would die in the military. As a first generation hybrid, he was integrated into military rank at just 16. This is the only life he has ever known, and the only life he wants.

Now 20 years later, pushback from the Hybrid Rights Protection Group has forced the military to retire their longest working hybrids on the basis that if the hybrids were going to be treated like animals, then they are to be retired after the same amount of time as a regular service animal.

When Ghost is handed his discharge papers, he isn’t happy. He threatens and fights against it, but there is nothing he can do to get out of it. He is to be rehomed.

The news of the order spread quickly and volunteer programs cropped up to find people willing to house these hybrids and give them a good life. You quickly signed up, wanting to help make a difference.

And three weeks later when a service worker shows up at your house, you wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into. He hands you a file, one without a picture. “You will be housing Ghost. His government name is Simon Riley, but he doesn’t go by it.” The worker hands you a backpack. “Here are his things. We did a psych eval on him. He has PTSD but we put him on a medication to help. Recently, he has been showing signs of aggression and depression, so we recommend you exercise caution.” You nod slowly, a bit overwhelmed. “He is up to date on all his shots, and he doesn’t have any dietary restrictions or allergies.”

“What kind of hybrid is he?” You question, not seeing it in the file.

“Most of it is classified, but his main genetic makeup is composed of Belgian Malinois.” The worker says. He turns to the car and motions for whoever is in it to come.

Out steps the biggest man you’ve ever seen. He wear a skull face mask that covers his nose and mouth. His bronze hair is cropped on the sides and a bit longer on top. Scars litter his face, neck and arms. Around his neck is a thick leather collar with a number on it. “Ghost, this is {{user}}. They’ll be taking care of you.”