NationStates Jolt Archive

Illesia City, Alversia

"My people are hard to know, Admiral. For the most part, we are fiercly nationalist, but understand the importance of alliances. We are not xenophobes, but some of our policies do seem xenophobic. Our involvement here is a combination of self preservation and a desire to secure future alliances, and to be frank, I suspect the Emperor is looking to annex some territory from the Danaversians or the Boolians," said Horan. He looked out over the vast metropolis. "Your people are inspired architects. Our buildings are far more... functional, though not without charm, but these... marvelous," he said between puffs of his cigar.



OOC-And the award for best use of a CAKE song ever goes to...

OOC: *Raises hand* All me, baby.

IC:

Miller, Improvised HQ...

Dui had seen the dust cloud raised by the military vehicle on the horizon and wondered if it wasn't more of the enemy or, Qonn forbid, fleeing remanents of the Joint Division or 610th Guards. It was only once the door was kicked open and Green leaped out, hanging on to the side and cutting Booleans down like nobody's business, that Dui realized he had driven over six klicks though barren wasteland and hostile troops to reach the area...no, reach her, she knew.
"Green! You crazy bastard!" Dui knew there was no way he could hear her over the gunfire, but she shouted anyway, torn between fear that he would be hurt or killed, joy that he would do this for her, and anger that he would abaondon his men for her. "Get that son of a bitch some coverfire!" She ordered her troops, wincing as another howitzer blast landed close by. Forget the tank, I'd kill for a bomber right now!
"You!" She rapped an Alversian Heavy Gunner holding a heavy repeating blaster on the helmet. "Get me fire to the outer edges of the bush, I need you and your men to box them in for me, nobody goes left or right without getting his balls blown off. If see any of the little green cocksuckers, send them to hell!"

Dui waited until her orders had been carried out to her satisfaction, then found one of the Setulanite Joint Division soldiers. "I'll releive yah of that," she tugged a disc-shaped device off his belt. The man's eyes widened. "Colonel, you need special training for-"
"I know," Dui examined the weapon. "I learned from a master." She looked up to where the Alversians and Setulanites were firing on the unseen Booleans. "Private, I know you and your fellows carry a lot of these, and they're gonna come in handy in a second. When I throw, I want you and the others in your squad to start throwing your own where I threw, with no more than a ten foot deviance from my strike in any direction. With luck, we'll make these bastards burn."
The Xiscapian grinned, sighted, and threw.
It was a beautiful shot, spinning though the air to pelt directly into the brush to explode like a grenade.

Meanwhile Yesho laughed out loud, taking down a Boolean at almost point-blank range with his turret, his mirth turning into a snarl of anger as one of them jumped onto the back of the vehicle. The being tried to discharge his weapon into Yesho's face but the kitsune jerked the gun up and knocked off his aim, setting the alien off-balance, causing him to fall onto the roof. The Joint Division Private lifted himself out of the turret ring just as the Boolean was climbing to his feet-
FWAP!
The mechanical tail that curved behind the head of the kitsune snapped forward, blade imbedding itself into the face of the enemy, who cried out in pain and horror in a strange tounge. "Your nose is like a Korrilian pussy!" Yesho growled, kicking the foe off the blood-soaked knife and away from the armored car. "Green, get back in the fucking car and haul ass, I can't hold them off forever!"

Miller, City...

The kitsune of the Joint Division were at a loss: Green had taken off on some mission as though he'd been mandated by the Emperor himself, and now they had no leader. Looking to Saan and their own superiors within the ranks for guidance the Xiscapians soldiered on, glancing from left to right in the gloomy, shadowed streets of the city, trusting their night vision and reflexes to save them if a surprise attack occured. Blue Three was hovering at the rear of the long line of troops, watching for pursuit, while Blue Four took point, able to see the longest range of any of the fifteen thousand Coalition troops with his sensors. The time of fighting had passed, now they had to fall back as fast as they could and pray the Danaversians couldn't or were too slow to follow.

Tenfour...

Nakamoto nodded. "The Pain," he murmured sadly. "Too many have perished already in this senseless war. It's good for business," he sighed heavily, "but what's good for business is not always good for everyone, or even anyone else."

Lune...

Ginta made his order and just sat back and listened, fascinated by the range of emotions he saw and felt. Finally he just frowned, leaning forward and taking one of Emma's hands in both his own. "How do you know she's dead?" He asked her quietly. "You haven't seen her body, as long as you still have faith there's hope. Your father refused to let go of that hope; excuse me, but it might have been the only thing that kept him going after she was abducted. Why have you given up on her?" His eyes searched hers, looking for some element of emotion he could recognize.

Miller, Improvised HQ

Green growled to himself before rolling back into the seat and starting to drive again, this time up the hill. He rolled in behind a large ledge that gave sufficient cover for the vehicle but didn't block Yesho's line of fire. He got out again and bounded from points of cover to where he thought he saw a group of Joint Division troops throwing discs.
"Dui!?"

The sergeant smiled at the colonel.
"You got it, ma'am. Let's do it, boys!" The troopers unlimbered their discs, set the bounce fuses, and let fly. Unlike Dui, the more experienced troopers didn't try to send the discs to the brush in one throw, but rather set them to bounce into the enemy formation. The discs managed to land precisely where Dui wanted them, and the resulting explosion stripped leaves and bushes and made a massive crater.
"Hope that got a few, Colonel. If nothing else, it made them wake up."

Tenfour

Marchamp only nodded; though most military equipment made on Setulan was run by the government, private contractors did occasionally get deals...but it was still a strange thought.
"Still and all, I am glad you have created this weapon to let them know our reply to their imperialism."

Miller, leaving the front

The Republican troops were also at a loss, but it wasn't as though they couldn't figure out what to do. At the head of the column, the commander of the First Brigade took charge.
"Keep moving! We need to get the hell out of here before the slimy bastards hit back."

Improvised HQ, Miller

The Alversian Heavy Support Troopers did as they were commanded, focusing their repeating blasters on the network of hedges from where the Boolean artillery seemed to have fired from. Squeezing the triggers of their larger weapons, feeling the bursts digging into their shoulders as the tracer-like lasers flew into the hedges, creating a box as ordered by the Colonel.
They watched as the rounds from the Setulans bounced into the bushes and blew them high into the air, opening large gaps between the fields but not revealling many Booleans, it seemed that they had been startled by the arrival of the Armoured Car and had fallen back from the immediate area, it looked like only one Danaversian was hit by the disc grenades. The gun itself had been abandoned.

Then the counter-fire started from hedges further back, out of the bouncing range of the discs. The bolts came more thickly then previous attacks and from far more many directions. Alversians started to fall under the fire, the fire from the Heavy weapons began to slacken as they were targeted by the Boolean counter-fire. The Lieutenant who commanded the Platoon was hit and killed, while one of his Sergeants was badly wounded by a Boolean Marksman. The rest of the Alversians, leaderless, began to fire more sporadically than before. The Platoon was new to combat, most of them newly arrived from the training Camps on Alversia, having never even seen an enemy before, nevermind being shot at by one. They were surrounded, under fire from all sides. The panic was growing amongst them and it was clear to see.

Miller, near the City

Elsewhere, the more experienced and battle-hardened Guards Battalion marched steely on. Led by the Second Company, for the Grenadiers were in the rear to safeguard against any Danaversian strike force that would threaten the rear of the Column. In frustration, Saan ran forward along the flank of the column, his katana banging on his thigh as he reached the front of the Joint Division Troops. He soon spotted the Brigade Commander, who was hurrying his men along as they entered the city, shadows being cast menacingly upon the relatively and pitifully small Column of troops.
"Hey!" he called, "You're the Vanguard. If you meet an enemy, don't stop and engage unless you have no other choice. Try to punch through unless you want Slimey Bastards swarming over us from all sides!"

Illesia City, Alversia

"Thank you very much," Sorenson smiled at the compliment, "Our Architects did not intend to make an ugly and functional city nor one that is beautiful and useless. We like to think that our city strikes the perfect balance between the two. You should really visit the golden beaches along the coast, they really are beautiful at this time of year." He smiled at the thought. His wife and children would be there now, taking advantage of the warm, drizzling weather to cool down and enjoy the sea more so.

Lune

"Just," Emma sighed, wiping her eyes again, "I know she's dead. I know my Chloe. She would never have stayed away from us unless she could not come home. She loved us so much and we loved her..." Emma stopped again to wipe her eyes before going on,
"When I heard she was missing, I cried for months. I just couldn't stop. I thought of her and I knew that she would be suffering. Over time, we waited and waited. But eventually the Navy told us that the chances of her still being alive where slim and that it may be better to stop looking, but never to stop hoping. But the two go hand in hand. I know in my heart that she's dead. She'll never come home. I'll never see her again."

Greywatch Space

"I'm sorry," The Danaversian said with a slimy and knowing smile, "But I am afraid that we cannot afford to have our cover blown and the Emporer turning against us. We need to know that our own people will be safe in the Empire. You're plan is flawed." He insisted calmly, easily, smoothly, his hand on his lap as he sat, the Drones beside him.

Miller, Improvised HQ...

"Hah, look at the green bastards turnin' yellow!" Dui cowed as the Booleans withdrew from their first line, leaving behind a few dead and the smoking, mangled remains of their gun. "And we got their artillery, too! Great job, boys!"

"Dui!?"

"Green!" The Xiscapian turned and saw the Setulan Colonel running for her, fire from the enemy splattering around him, and their embrace was nearly a tackle as he made it to her cover. "Oh Green," Dui moaned, trapped between anger and love, kissing the man and then stepping back and treating him to a ringing slap across the face. She might have been shorter and weaker than he was, but there was still enough force behind the blow to snap his head around. "Oh Green..." She said again as she stared at him, swallowing hard, shaking her head. "You came all this way...but your troops..." She could feel tears stinging at her eyes, and she shook them off angrily, stepping back from Green. "Your men Green, you can't, you shouldn't have..." She turned away, impaled between devotion to the man she loved and duty to the country she would gladly die for, not knowing how to react.

A shot slapped into the dirt at her feet and she was dragged back into reality, the burning pain in her shoulder, the sweat on her face and on her body under her armor, the shouts and cries of the platoon and the pounding of her heart. “We’ll…” She faltered. “We’ll talk about this later.” The Xiscapian faced back out towards the battle and saw the fire coming hot and heavy, in a higher, more concentrated volume than before. She saw several of her soldiers fall, killed or wounded by Boolean weapons, and the heavy weapons teams were forced to take cover or become a casualty. The Alversians were coming apart at the seams as the numerically superior force made the second assault, from multiple directions this time, and she saw not a few frozen behind cover, rifles at their feet or hugging the guns in fear, muttered prayers and whispered oaths unheard in the chaos. “Shit…” Dui knelt and stripped the short-range vox unit off the dead Lieutenant, the face of the corpse frozen in a hard, focused look, staring in command even from beyond the grave. Tossing aside her ruined communicator the kitsune affixed the Alversian one and began communicating with the Alversian soldiers.

“Stay strong, boys, fifteen thousand reinforcements aren’t far off, just hold a bit longer!” Dui encouraged them with a glance at Green. She had no idea if the Joint Division and the 610th Guards were still back at the Phase lines, just a klick away, or had been totally wiped out, but if the Alversians gave up now they would all die no matter what. “Spread out around the hill, three sixty, we don’t want them flanking us, and for the love of Qonn stay in cover! All you guys need to do is hold them at bay until the main force gets here! C’mon, up you, let’s go!” She jumped down to a lower cliff, pushing at one of the soldiers, getting in his face. “Move, move, move, if you stay here you’ll die!”

She switched off to the more experienced Setulanite soldiers. “Guys, I need you to keep these greenhorns moving and firing, don’t let them get shocked into cover, otherwise they’ll never come out. Give them covering fire, and don’t let them spray and pray, make them pick their shots carefully.”

Kwang!
Yesho swore as more and more shots were absorbed into the armor of the vehicle or ricocheting off it, Boolean fire directed at him as one of the last sources of heavy rapid fire. “That’s right, just leave be behind, “he muttered in fine humor, not truly bitter that Green had left him. “Time to abandon car.” Slipping deeper under the turret shield he crawled across the seats and, after grabbing his blaster, fell out the door onto the opposite side, concealed from the enemy by the bulk of the vehicle. Half crouched he scurried along the cover and made a break for it, energy bolts hissing around the Joint Division trooper diving into cover. He edged along the rock and nearly shot the Alversian already occupying the boulder, expecting everyone to be further up the slope. "Shit!" He pressed against the stone. "What's goin' on, người?"

City...

"Blue Four, report."
"No sign of pursuit yet, Blue Three. Either they haven't realized we've buggered out, or the fire's stopping them from coming after us."
"Keep me posted, if you see anything coming from any direction, I want to know about it!"
"Yes sir!"

"Rearguard duty, Vanguard duty, we're just getting the armpit of it," muttered an Xiscapian Joint Division soldier, glancing around the bombed-out shells and crumbling structures that made up the city.

Tenfour...

"I hope it works as well as the simulations show; two of my employees lost their lives to create it." Nakamoto gave an amputee's smile, eyes lidded and shadowed in the dim light. "You see, the process that must be followed to gain even a small amount of the hyperdense matter is very complex and extremely dangerous, to the point that we cannot use any star systems in this galactic quadrant to manufacture it. What I am about to tell you is a trade secret: You must never share it with anyone else. You see, to produce the superdense matter it takes mind-bogglingly large amounts of power. We have access to several 'pocket universes', as they are known, and in these empty patches of space sectioned off from our own universe we fire two compressed fusion torpedoes into an artificially manufactured singularity. These meet and react with devastating power, and from that point this hyperdense matter is produced by the energy, to be collected by harvesters and brought back to our universe though a portal once the reaction had dissipated sufficiently. The entirety of the detonation is sucked into the singularity so as not to damage the fabric of the pocket universe and make it unusable to use, or worse, cause an extra-dimensional rift that could have devastating consequences." He smiled. "It is possible to, by both artificial and natural means, produce the matter here in our own universe, but due to the size and power of the reaction it would be exceedingly dangerous with potential lasting effects of a nature that we cannot even begin to speculate on."

Lune...

Ginta sighed but did not release his grip on her hand. It was clear that she had already accepted her sister’s death, and reopening that wound, even to try to heal it with hope, was well beyond his area of experience. "I see," he said finally, picking up his paper coffee cup with one hand and drinking the hot, somewhat bitter fluid. Ginta was one of the few Xiscapians who had fully come to appreciate the strange drink, although he gained no sort of effects, positive or negative, from it: He simply liked the taste. The scientist knew that, statistically and based on evidence, that Chloe was, in fact, dead; if the missing person was not recovered within seventy-two hours, and especially if there was no ransom for them, their chances of survival dropped drastically. Doubtless Emma had already figured this out, and so, not knowing what to say next, Ginta drank his brew and watched her silently.

ooc-Sorry for the rather stringy post, yall. I've been running around with a pack and rifle all weekend and I'm ready to pass out.
IC-

Miller, Improv HQ

Green just smiled.
"I should. The division is following a pre-set withdrawl plan which is more than explicit enough to give them direction, and the chain of command isn't going to break down because we aren't there. And it's absolutely worth it."
He popped up and blazed away at the bushes for a moment.
"Anyway, relief isn't that far off."

Miller, City

The Brigade commander was a veteran of the Great War. He didn't nead this up-jumped alversian telling him how to fight...but he just nodded. No point rending fences.
"Roger. We'll keep that in mind." I wish they had left the beacheads, though...

Tenfour

The engineer in Marchamp (before the Great War, he was a professor of engineering and widely considered the greatest technical engineer in the system) was needless to say very curious about all of this...but that could come later.
"A miraculous achievment nonetheless, and the families of your workers will recieve their compensation in the blood of the invaders."

OOC: TG Set

OOC: I wouldn't mind some combat before too long, Alversia

OOC: TG Belkaros

Improvised HQ, Miller

The Alversian Soldiers remained under cover for a little longer after Dui's words came through. They were fresh Soldiers, just out of the barracks, they had no experience of this kind of warfare and, with many of their own Officers unable to give orders, it was down to the junior and equally inexperienced NCO's to try and rally their flagging morale.

The Soldier whose shelter Yesho had suddenly occupied looked at him in a combination of surprise and fright. He had not even lowered his rifle to challenge the newcomer as the blaster bolts pinged all around his cover,
"W-w-we're the first l-l-l-l-line of defence S-s-s-sir," He stuttered not knowing if the Kitsune was a superior officer but it somehow sounded better to address him as one. After all, he couldn't be lower than a Private.

Then the young Alversian's vox crackled to life, first with Dui's words, then with louder and more harsh words from someone else,
"She's right, 212th! Platoon will show itself to the enemy on my command and give them a damn thrashing the likes of which they've never had before! You gonna show yourselves up in front of these Joint Division Bastards! Are you gonna show yourself up in front of the Short and Stubborn Bastards coming towards us! No you are are not! Fire! Setting One!"
The yells were from a Corporal, a man who was now running from cover to cover, followed by a shower of blaster bolts as he went, encouraging his troops and filling them with the confidence of training and a superior defensive position.
He reached the Alversian and Yesho's cover. He was panting heavily through his armour but spoke with confidence regardless,
"See that bastard down the hill there? The Fishy Fucker hiding in the bushes? First one to put a bolt between his eyes gets ten Sedars from the loser. Got it?"

"Make it fifteen and you're on sir," The Private laughed as he gripped his rifle, aimed down the barrel and fired. The Corporal fired at the same time, though his shot went well wide and the Private's connected cleanly. The Corporal sighed,
"You win, Private. Win this battle and I'll give it to you back at the Barracks."

"Yes Sir," The Private now seemed full of life, full of eagerness and he fired a burst of rifle-fire down the hill into the Boolean positions.

The Corporal moved off, muttering beneath his breath, "I owe fifteen Sedar to evey Alversian on this bloody hill."
If Yesho had overheard him, then he would understand what the Corporal had done to provoke this vicious response from the Alversian Defenders. Each man, motivated by the promise of money if successful, had taken out one enemy down the hill. Seeing that, in fact, they could fight back and that their Attackers were not as invincible as they may have seemed, the Alversians fought on. It had taken extreme courage and wealth, but the Alversians were fighting as a team again.

City, Miller

"Good. Well then Chaps, I shall wish you happy bulldozing,"
Saan left the front Brigade and ran back to his own troops taking up the rear of the column. He knew that it was probably not necessary to tell the Brigade Commander what to do, he looked as though he had been through a few scraps, but he didn't know if the Joint Division was operating under different protocols than his Alversian Unit and the last thing he wanted was for the two Units to become split up in the city and lost.
He ran back towards the rearguard, his breath catching in his chest, his legs and lungs burning as he ran with the armour and rifle as fast as his legs would carry him, feet slipping on rubble from a stray Danaversian shell. He knew when he had reached his own troops when the armour of the Setulan Rifles and Xiscapian Marines gave way to the green armour of the Alversian Army. As he reached his own troops though, he heard a series of loud cracks echoing through the narrow streets. He looked back and began to run again, panting heavily, tongue out like a Dog's, until he reached his own Rearguard, the Light and Grenadier Companies. Some of the Snipers were kneeling, taking aim through their scopes at something he couldn't see with his naked vision.
"Mifune! Speak to me!"
Major Mifune, a big and powerful Kitsune normally in command of the Grenadiers and now in command of the combined Rearguard approached and quickly saluted,
"Dans Sir, not sure how many but they were in a loose order and advancing at the run. I think it was a Screening Line to root out any traps we may have set. The Boys felled a couple of them and they've gone to ground."

"How many did you count?" Saan asked desperately, hoping for good news where he knew there would be none.

"Looked to be over 200 hundred of them Sir, I guess the main force is further behind them."

"Right. You know the drill, keep them off us for as long as possible. I'll try and contact orbit, see if I can get some Qonndamned help down here."
Then Saan was off again.

Above the Coalition Forces, Miller

At the same time that the Danaversian screening forces had become visible to the Xiscapian Mechs, a line of Danaversians stretching a mile across with gaps of then yards between each Soldier, they would catch sight of the main force. They were using the same road as the Coalition forces, spread over the horizon, tens of thousands of Danaversians, all baying for Coalition blood.

However, before the Mechs could make a move for the Danaversian pursuers, they were challenged by two Booleans Mechs, startingly similiar to their Xiscapian counterparts. The Vox of Blue Two crackled with a heavily accented voice speaking in common,
"This is the Commander of Mech Squad 4 Beta. Our Units fought in combat today and both displayed signs of dishonour. For our part, we deeply apologise for the shooting of your Commander and offer you the chance to avenge his death. I shall challenge, your Commander to single combat, no weapons other than hand to hand are allowed. If you win, then we shall not intefere with the Coalition Retreat. If we win, then you shall do the same. Are we agreed?"

Vanguard, City, Miller

As the Vanguard marched through the City, the Setulan troops would come to a T-junction, one turning directly left and one turning directly right. On all sides, the Setulan Brigade was surrounded by the tall skeletons of buildings that dwarfed the small Infantry, the building ahead of them was the largest of all.
Then, from the biggest building directly ahead of the Brigade, automatic fire opened up from a couple of the upper-levels right into the Setulan formation. The narrow streets were hemming in the Coalition troops and now they had been ambushed by the Danaversians who now rushed to occupy more of the windows and pour more blaster fire into the now halted Setulan Infantry.

Lune, Xiscapia

Ginta was quiet as well for a while, drinking her own cup of tea. Like most Kitsune she did not like the bitter bite of coffee and, seeing no logical reason for her to drink it, she contented herself with tea. It was after a little while of silence that she spoke again,
"How about you, Ginta?" She asked curiously, "what about your family?" She had worked with him for a while, but she had never really found out much about him.

Alversian Orbit, Alversian Space

It was not long after the meeting with the Belkarans that the Alversian fleet began to assemble for battle. Overall, the fleet consisted of 38 vessels from the Alversian Home Fleet and the IX Fleet. It was to be led by the legendary Alversian Admiral, John Reynolds, commander of the DMZ forces and the most experienced commander in fighting the Danaversians. He would operate overall command of the fleet while it was seperated into two wings to be commanded by Rear-Admiral Cavourna and Admiral Michael Bartlett. All that Reynolds was waiting for, as he stood on the bridge of his temporary flagship, the Light of Freedom were the Belkaran fleet and the Danaversian Enemies.

Miller, Improvised HQ...

Dui glanced at Green. "Better be damned sure, we're outnumbered here and the morale is breaking." She was pressed up against a boulder, listening to the sound of blaster fire and screamed orders. The Xiscapian peeked around the rock, and watched in amazement as the Alversian Corporal renewed the confidence of his troops...with money, of all things "I want his name, rank and serial number," she muttered, "that guy's due for a promotion. Still," she chuckled, taking a potshot at a Boolean trooper far off in the distance, "I guess freedom, liberty and democracy can't motivate everybody!"

"Nice shot," Yesho murmured, watching the Boolean go down with a smoking hole where his face had been. "They'll make a sharpshooter outta you yet. Listen, you've made fifteen quid..." There was a gleam in his eyes. "Wanna make some more? Ten credits per head, you and me. Set 'em up and knock 'em down, what'dya say?"

APS Catalan, Alversian VII Fleet, Miller Orbit...

"This is the Commander of Mech Squad 4 Beta. Our Units fought in combat today and both displayed signs of dishonour. For our part, we deeply apologise for the shooting of your Commander and offer you the chance to avenge his death. I shall challenge, your Commander to single combat, no weapons other than hand to hand are allowed. If you win, then we shall not intefere with the Coalition Retreat. If we win, then you shall do the same. Are we agreed?"

"Oh!" Urteil laughed out loud, an ugly sort of laugh that conveyed more contempt than mirth. He held a small datapad in one hand, and it showed, from some camera affixed to the Catalan's hull, the four mecha squaring off. "How perfectly...quant. Are you seeing this, Captain?" Of course the Alversian wasn't, but Urteil enjoyed needling the man, and he had a feeling he was going to enjoy the ensuing dual.

Miller, above the Coalition Forces...

Blue Three and Four didn't actually look at each other, but they opened a secure channel to speak without the Booleans overhearing.

Blue Four went first. "Smells like a trap, Three."

"Not everybody is as paranoid as you, Four. I think they're serious."

"Maybe they're trying to buy their toady buddies time?"

"Mmm, I don't think so. If I were them, and I wanted to slow the Coalition down, I'd start harassing the vanguard. No, these guys have got honor on the brain."

"Honor?"

"Maybe not exactly our brand, but it's honor all the same. Kinda nice to see somebody's still got some. Keep and eye out, though, any tricks and you stab that guy straight though."

"So...who's going for it?"

"I will. I outrank you, Four, if I die maybe they'll let you go as my second..."

"Three-"

"End of discussion, Four."

Blue Three maneuvered in the air so that he saw hovering on the exact same plane as the Boolean pilot who had spoken, and, with almost as much grace as he would have out of the vehicle, gave a stately bow. "Agreed. Since our Commander was killed in combat, and his second is unavailable, I accept your challenge, sir."

His railguns went offline, going slack, limp and pointing at the ground, his missile launcher was covered by the protective force field used when the mecha were in storage, and his beam cannon and energy sword emitter folded up and transformed back into hands. Blue Four kept all his weapons up but not targeting anyone, watching silently as his last combat buddy descended to take on the enemy.

Tenfour, Xiscapia...

The Empress bowed to the acceptable level, her robe sleeve brushing Marchamp slightly, indicating he should do what she did. "Many thanks, President Nakamoto, for allowing us here. We are all excited at the prospect of the Marchamp class and the GIMP weapon."

Nakamoto bowed even deeper. "It was a great pleasure to meet you, your Majesty, and yourself, Prime Minister," he straightened up, smiling broadly. "I am deeply honored to be able to meet the man who our latest ship class was named after!"

Outside the weather had not changed: Cold and brisk under an iron sky, a mournful wind blowing scattered leaves down the streets between the towering skyscrapers. On many of the roof tops gardens could be seen, with twisting trees and long grass that regularly replenished the atmosphere with fresh, clean air. Aside from the chatter of pedestrians and the roar of speeders and air transports the city was silent, using a combination of crystal generated power and biofuels. Two Black Guards joined them once again, one of the black armored soldiers flanking each dignitary, but the Empress did not head directly for the transport. Instead she stood looking at Marchamp with a smile on her face. "Would you like to get a hot drink? I know a cafe that serves excellent coffee just down the street."

City of Lune...

Ginta smiled wistfully and took another sip of his java. "My parents weren't wealthy, but they were both strong people. My father was a professional soccer player, before an injury to his knee took him out during his prime. He was always very disappointed that his only son pursued academic topics rather than that of the glorious sport of soccer, but he stuck by me even if he couldn't understand half the science projects I worked on. My mother was a seamstress, and she was very proud that I was so intelligent and on my way to a bright future. They both live here, and I drop in every so often to say hello...dad's at least a bit mollified that I'm designing weapons of war to kill enemies of the Kitsune Empire with." He smiled, eyes filled with warmth.

Unknown World:

A miserable, little, backwater planet just like the rest, at least at first glance. No resources worth mentioning, out of the way, tucked away in a system so obscured and so difficult to reach that only PSR has been able to get anyone there. Yet despite its remoteness and apparent uselessness, some call it their home. It’s a cold planet with most of the surface covered in water, violent storms rage nearly year round. Yet on one of the two small continents, someone has been able to establish a home, or rather, a base of operations. Two transports come in through the atmosphere, sleek in design and black in color with red lights around their engines. Both of them rocked violently as lightning arced off their shields and violent winds pushed against them. They descended quickly though the upper atmosphere as such a place is particularly dangerous this time of year. As they continue downwards through the clouds, they eventually found what they’re looking for: a crater, several kilometers across, in the middle of the continent. Despite the isolation, the violent storms, the lack of resources… there is still life here. A massive structure, an ancient and alien ship that apparently crashed into the surface, sits in the middle of the crater like an ominous tower. Around it, there are several buildings and structures, some of them look alien, others look like buildings you’d find in any modern metropolis, but the one consistent style is that each one was purple or black in color; all of them were covered in odd, glowing symbols; they all were decorated with blue, red, purple, yellow, and white lights, neon signs, and billboards; many of them didn’t appear to have any windows; and all of them had black banners hanging from them. The transports continued their quick descent to the alien cityscape and only begun to slow as they entered the crater. A large landing pad emerged from the ground and glowing lights signaled for the transports, both of which were quick to touch down. The transports opened up and six figures emerged from each one. All of the figures dressed themselves in white cloaks, hoods covering their heads from the downpour; two of them gave nods to the others and began the walk to the obviously alien structure at the center of the city. They walked slowly and calmly, both apparently not caring about the fact that they were getting so heavily rained upon. When they reached the structure, they found their path blocked by a single figure clad in black; it looked at both of them before speaking in a deep voice, “Anyone who comes to this world comes for a reason.” One of the figures pulled their hood back revealing their face. It was that of a Caucasian male with solid white eyes and long, snow white hair; he pulled a small card from his cloak and presented it, “I am Sir William Shade Nightingale, the Crow 13. I have an invitation.” The other figure kept its face masked but produced a similar card; a woman’s voice with what sounded like a Russian accent stated, “I am the Double Crescent, Madam Lucia Windhelm, number three. Our lord and master has beckoned me.” The figure in black looked at both of their cards and stood aside, “Proceed.” The wall of the structure seemed to pulsate and as the two got closer, stretching and pulling itself apart to make an entrance. Once they were both through, the wall closed itself behind them, sealing them in.

The inside of the structure was dark, with only the soft glow of strange crystals growing from the walls to provide light. The two were in a large entranceway which seemed devoid of any life; after a few moments, a trail of light appeared on the floor to lead the two where they had to go. After a long and uneventful walk through the corridors, the two entered a large circular room with several thrones positioned around a large pit in the center. There were three others in the room, all of them seated silently upon their thrones. On one throne was a man in a black shirt, gray coat, gray pants, white gloves, and a pair of black dress shoes. He had dark hair which was nicely groomed and combed back. Holstered at his sides were two elegantly crafted revolvers and across his lap was what appeared to be a slightly modified, long-barreled, flintlock musket. In one hand, he held a glass of white wine and a pair of glasses in the other. He wore a gentle smile as he looked to the two who had just entered. The second figure in the room was a dark-skinned, redheaded teenager. He sat back in his seat, not paying attention to the others, a pair of earphones accompanied by loud music blocking out all other sound. He wore a pair of acid wash jeans, some high-end sneakers, a cargo vest, several armbands, fingerless gloves, and a headband. Much of his torso and arms were tattooed though it was unclear what exactly the tattoos were depicting. He fiddled with a lighter as the other two came in and said nothing, not even bothering to acknowledge them. Then there was a last seated figure, a young girl of apparent Leanorian descent. She wore a flowing red coat, a black shirt which stopped above her belly-button, a black skirt, a small black choker, and what appeared to be clawed gauntlets. She sat at the edge of her throne, allowing her tail to flick back and forth. Her blue eyes glanced over at those entering for a moment before looking straight again.

The man who had identified himself as ‘William’ stepped forward, approaching the feline-like figure. He placed his hand on her head and stroked her white fur, smiling, “Aww, even little Ruby is here. How’s kitty-cat doing?” There was a sharp spike of Cryptic energy in the room and one of Ruby’s armored arms had now changed into a blade, a blade now at William’s neck. “I’m a Leanorian, jackass. I’ve told you that before, Nightshade.” The man calmly removed his all consuming white robe and threw aside, revealing his true clothing underneath; a pair of sandals, black pants, and a sleeveless black trench coat. He was very fair skinned but not quite pale and his body was thin yet muscular. He moved his white hair from his face and looked down at the girl, using his finger to move the blade away from his neck. “Leanorian? While I’d like to believe you, I’m afraid you just to look the part. Consider the differences: Shorter; smaller snout and, consequently, a smaller mouth; thinner, pointed ears; white fur as opposed to golden; thinner and less muscular body… Don’t kid yourself, you’re no Leanorian. At least not the way I know them. And believe me, I’ve been spending a lot of time around them lat-” There was the sound of metal striking metal as William/Nightshade flew back, a still-sheathed blade in his left hand. Ruby brought her forearm down and readied herself to strike again. Meanwhile, the woman who identified herself Lucia sat upon her throne, next to the figure with the guns. She removed her hood to reveal a slightly tanned face with long, curly red hair. She smiled at the man she sat next to before, like everyone else, turning her attention to the battle that was taking place.

After some more dialogue and an exchange of blows, the battle was finally stopped as another figure entered the room. This one was a Xarniosi, a figure much larger than all others in the room. He wore nothing more than a pair of black pants and allowed the rest of his body to remain exposed. Judging by his face and the scars covering his body, he’d been alive for years, but strangely enough not much of his body appeared to be converted. The most noticeable feature was the device that was firmly planted in the left side of his chest where one’s heart would normally be. It was a cylindrical object about 5 inches in diameter that looked almost like a power core, it stuck about half an inch out of him and looking at it gave off an eerie feeling. The skin around the device had mutated and now pulsated slowly, like a heartbeat, giving off a purple glow every time it did so. He was holding a datapad and looked around the room, quickly focusing on Ruby and Nightshade. “Ruby is a genetically modified Leanorian, Nightshade. Her body has been specifically modified to replace superhuman strength with untraceable speed. The changes made to her physical form are to make her much more streamlined and agile, while her white fur is a mutation that resulted from Cryptic infusion. Granted, she’s not a full Leanorian due to Crimson’s blood flowing through her veins, but she’s close enough. If you require any further information, you have access to the Forbidden archives or you can simply ask Mastermind. Now then, perhaps both of you would like to take your seats?” The Xarniosi motioned to their thrones, “I’d like to keep this brief. I doubt any of you want to stay here longer than you have to.” Nightshade and Ruby knew they didn’t have a choice; Puppeteer, as they both knew, disguised his orders as suggestions for the sake of making it seem like others had a choice. Both Crows took their seats silently, touching each other’s hands softly to demonstrate that they’d made up.

Once everyone was seated, the Xarniosi took its own seat away from the others, “We’re all Crows so I doubt I need to explain anything. You know why you’re here, what the situation is, and what our objectives are.” Everyone in the room nodded silently and the Xarniosi went on, “Now then, to introduce our newest member, Whisper.” Nightshade raised his hand, “Who died?” The Xarniosi looked to him, “No one as of yet.” The teenager straightened up and pulled out his earphones, “You’re kidding. Whenever we get a newbie, it’s to replace some idiot who died.” Nightshade and the man with the guns both nodded agreement. The Xarniosi’s expression didn’t change, “This time is different. Whisper will be the official 32nd Crow.” A wall opened and a petite figure walked through; a young, cinnamon-skinned girl with dark gray hair, no older than ten. She wore deep blue clothing that seemed exotic in nature, yet strangely similar to that which the Leanorians wore. She also wore several bracelets and necklaces that all had strange, glowing, blue crystals hanging from them. Her eyes were covered with a deep blue blindfold decorated with silver runes. She stumbled forward until she was beside the Xarniosi. “I say,” started the man with the guns, “Darkeye was a questionable candidate because of his age when he first joined,” he gestured to the teenager, “are we as Crows now fully prepared to accept all gifted children into our ranks no matter the age?” Ruby and Lucia nodded to this statement, a sense of worry in their eyes. The Xarniosi looked to the man, “Are you concerned she isn’t skilled enough to handle herself in combat simply because of age? Age means little to the ways of Cryption. Even if her mind is still developing and her body is frail, sheer ability, very unique ability mind you, will keep her alive.” The teenager, Darkeye, gave a half laugh, “It doesn’t matter how fucking unique her ability is. She won’t be able to handle what’s coming. I thought I was the shit when you first accepted me but I nearly got killed on my first missions. I know you’re an uncaring bastard and a fan of letting people grow into the responsibilities of being a Crow, but this is taking it too far. If anything, she should spend time with those pussy FMs before becoming a Crow.” Ruby folded her arms, “She’s going to need some serious training before she can become a Crow regardless of whatever abilities she has. I’m sure you have faith, but none of us have even seen this ‘unique’ skill. How are we supposed to know she’s capable?” The Xarniosi smiled, “You don’t trust me to have used the proper procedures to determine her strength? Very well, Nightshade, what say you on the matter?” Nightshade blinked as if he’d been interrupted from a daydream, his blank eyes focusing on the young figure on the other side of the room. Suddenly, his expression changed from neutral to surprise with a mix of fear. He quickly closed his eyes, calming himself before speaking. “She… has potential… as a Crow. But in her current state… the others are right. She won’t be able to handle what’s in store.” He rose to his feet and opened his eyes once more, “She needs time to mature and develop both as a person and in Cryptic strength. I will take her.” Nightshade now had the undivided attention of all in the room, the other Crows looked at him as if he was insane but the Xarniosi remained stone-faced. “I will take her as my own, as a student and as a sister.” The Xarniosi simply began clapping slowly. “Well done, Nightshade. I knew the Greyknight in you would see it our way. Mastermind must be pleased.” The Xarniosi rose to his feet, “While I’m sure everyone has questions, that was all there was to discuss. Therefore, you may all leave. I’m glad you were all willing to come here in person. Now go attend to your duties.”

The Xarniosi waited until everyone had left before speaking once more, “Impressive as always, Mastermind.” The Xarniosi smiled, an aura of maliciousness surrounding him, “Nightshade has become more unstable recently due to his advanced training, yet you manage to hide that very well. While I cannot help but applaud your ability-” The Xarniosi paused and turned away from the pit, “-it’s obvious that you can only influence him. Unlike the others, you cannot completely control his body and mind unless he allows you to.” The Xarniosi slowly made his way to the exit, “While I support your decision to keep him around, you know he’s a Greyknight before he’s a Crow. So what will you do, Mastermind?” He stopped at the exit and half-turned to face the pit, “When you lose control of your weapon, what will you do?”

Did you ever finish The Methods of Madness my liege? If not, I was hoping I could share the end of the story with you, in which Genti, for allying himself with the God of Secrets and reading the Forbidden Scriptures, has his soul ripped apart and his body thrown into the Twilight Realms by none other than Zamir, the Divine Sharpshooter and the Hunter of Sins. I tell you this because it reminds me of you. You have been a great leader my liege, if not somewhat dictatorial. But, you have been a terrible person as well, and like Genti you have allied yourself with the God of Secrets, though we go by a different name. I ask you now, my liege, what will you do when the grip of iron you have on this land, rusts and crumbles away? What will you do when your secrets are exposed and people see you for what you really are? What will you do when the hunter Zamir comes for you?
-Forbidden Ministry Acolyte, 1592 Post ED

Greywatch Prime, Northern Wastes, Forbidden Ministry Research Center:

“-as you can see, the Behemoth is a biological being that we’ve enhanced using both Cryptic infusion and the Xarniosi nanites. It’s heavily armored, has amazing range and accuracy, and possesses Cryptic abilities to help it in the field. The only drawback is that it’s a big target and that it’s slow. But the armor should help with it being a target and the range should remedy the problems with speed.” A woman in a black uniform, obviously a scientist, was making a presentation to an Elder Drone. “From what our tests have shown, it will be very effective in combat against almost anything as long as the target doesn’t get into its blind zone. We tried installing some small weapons to it just in case but found that the Cryptic and nanite network wouldn’t be able to handle anything else.” The Drone nodded, “Then we will simply have to send smaller units to protect it whenever it is used. I will tell Shadow of your progress, I imagine he’ll be most pleased.” The woman bowed, “Please, we were only able to construct this being because the master granted us permission to look through the Ministry’s Crypt Archives. Without that…” The Drone turned to leave, “Still, you’ve come rather far in two weeks. Keep up the good work.” The Drone gave an artificial smile and left the room. It made its way through the halls of what, thousands of years ago, was a temple. After finding its way into a large, empty courtyard and taking a moment to admire the architecture, the construct pulled out a small comms device. “Celestial Caste 47 Elder, reporting.” The Drone waited for a moment and a voice came back, “What have you to report?”

“Research is progressing quickly, largely due to our researchers getting access to the Crypt. The first Behemoths have been constructed and seem to be effective, now we just need to test them.”
“What else?”
“The old MARRMT is far more potent with the assistance of the Xarniosi nanites. The old Jumpers are now 45% more effective in combat and the newer Jumpers are even better. The Crawlers are still in the works, but when they come out they should make quite the impact.”
“What of the Ether Crystals?”
“I saw the effects of the Ether Crystals in person. They’re risky… but I’ve been promised that with a little more time, the survival rate of those modified with the crystals will be 72% as opposed to the current 49%. However, those who bare the Ether Crystals, especially these newer and potent ones, will still be at a 35% risk of permanent physical and mental damage. There’s also a 7% chance subjects will succumb to madness and morph into corrupted beings.”
“I see. But this is still excellent news, nonetheless. But However, if our researchers saw the Crypt-”
“There’s no need to worry. I took it upon myself to retrieve the documents for them. They were not exposed to any sensitive information.”
“I see. But in the unlikely chance they learn something-”
“I will be staying here to watch over the projects until they are done. If someone seems suspicious, they will be detained and questioned. In the unlikely scenario that the entire research division stationed here becomes ‘corrupted,’ I’ll wait until everything is finalized; then I will personally see to the destruction of the facility and everyone in it.”
“Good, good. Let us both hope it won’t come to that. We’ll need all the manpower we can muster for this war. Call me again if there are any new developments so that I may forward them to Shadow. Fallen bless.”
“Understood. Fallen bless.”

Lanoria, Plains:

It was midday and the sun was high in the sky, raining waves of heat down on the vast plains of the Leanorian homeworld; there was barely a cloud in the deep blue sky. In a small clearing, a table and some chairs had been set up for a picnic. Three people sat at this table, each one enjoying a delicious steak and some white wine. Two of them were Leanorians and the last was what appeared to be a human, all three expressed obvious delight of their meals and each other’s company. Oddly enough, there was a forth plate of steak set up, a thin layer of plastic covering it; fork, knife, and napkin set neatly next to it. Both the Leanorians were males dressed in full traditional armor, beautiful in design and obviously capable of taking in some abuse. The man was dressed in a white tuxedo and had long, dark purple hair. One of the Leanorians looked to the man, “So, Shadow, to what do we owe this pleasure?” The man smiled, looking up from his half-eaten steak, “Oh, nothing really. Work has simply been murderous lately, and I felt like taking a little break and visiting some friends. I know the Kyor region is beautiful during the summer and thought I’d stop by for a visit.” The other Leanorian laughed, “Oh-ho. The leader of the Forbidden gets tired of his job and comes to Lanoria? And considers us friends at that! Our kind has gravely misjudged some of you demons.” Shadow chuckled, “It’s quite alright Lo’Nara, I understand many of my fellow Twilight Demons are more than unsavory characters, but this is why I have decided to separate myself from them.” Both Leanorians nodded and the first took a few more bites of his meal before speaking once more, “So, Shadow. How goes the war effort on your front? If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that you FMs are very resourceful people.” Lo’Nara nodded, “D’Fero makes a good point. When we first established contact with your kind, you sent that Elden boy and some of your Drones. But rumor has it that now you’ve moved up.” Shadow smiled, “It is true, we’ve been doing a lot of research. But Greywatch’s government has been the real cause of this. The Council provided us with what we needed to improve ourselves. As for the war, we have a few tricks up our sleeves; new designs to try out, new methods and tactics to experiment. The only difficulty is getting the correct resources.”

“Speaking of Greywatch government, for a lapdog of the Council, you are an amazingly difficult person to get a hold of.” I was a new voice, one that apparently came from nowhere, interrupting the conversation. Shadow turned his head slightly to look back at a figure. A blond haired man, who was clearly not their a few seconds ago, had suddenly appeared. He was dressed in beige clothing and was holding a communicator in his hand. The two Leanorians had quickly moved in preparation of an attack but Shadow signaled to them that it was alright. He nodded to the man, “I was waiting for you,” he motioned to the plate at the other end of the table from himself, “you may wish to eat your meal before it gets cold.” He and the Leanorians returned to eating as the new man rolled his eyes and took a seat, taking the plastic off of his plate and putting his napkin on his lap. Shadow stopped eating for a moment and looked to the newcomer, “So, what is it that is so important? I can tell just by looking at you that you’re a high-level Cryptic user, though your method of appearance… I don’t detect a displacement field, but surely you didn’t blink here. The Council has very rarely goes out of their way to find me, has something happened?” The man began eating his steak, finishing half of it in less than a minute before looking up at Shadow, “Earth element, Stone Swimming, since you’re so curious. As to the reason why I’m here, I doubt you’ve forgotten Greywatch is in a war. I also doubt you’ve forgotten that six days ago, you made a series of promises about what you would be able to produce in two weeks time; well, the Council wants an update.” Shadow chuckled, “They go this far for an update? I see, I suppose I should’ve expected that… well, everything I’ve promised has been coming along quite nicely, actually. The only things that may take a little longer than expected are the Crystals.” The Leanorians listened silently to Shadow and the messenger’s conversation, Shadow continued after finishing his steak. “I can have a full report to the Council in 5 hours if they require one so desperately. All I ask is that I be able to finish lunch with my two friends.” Shadow paused, waiting for the messenger to respond. Once the man had finished his own meal, he stood up, “Very well, you have five hours. If the Council doesn’t have a report by then, you’ll have to explain your tardiness to them in person.” The man stepped away from the table and melted into the ground, vanishing as quickly as he’d come. Shadow looked to his two friends and gestured for the previous conversation to begin once more, “Now then, where were we?”

Greywatch Station:

Azure’s eyes radiated a dark Cryptic energy, making all that stared into them feel a disturbing tightness in their stomachs. She was sure to make eye contact with Novoax from this point on, in order to judge his true intentions. “Oh? That’s an interesting choice of words, considering I haven’t yet introduced an actually plan, rather just a tactic. Plans would require more information, which you seem unwilling to give. Perhaps instead of making simple statements, you’d like to enlighten me as to your situation. From what I’ve gathered, you’ve given your word that your emperor has no knowledge of you being here. Therefore, there’s not too much of a chance of you cover ‘being blown,’ as you put it. Furthermore, you’ve suggested your emperor and his advisors are foolish.” Azure let the last word in that statement sink in before continuing. “Your plan: to exchange attack information between yourself and the coalition, assuming this isn’t all a ruse, so that your supporters may safely leave their planets of residence before coalition forces move in for an attack.” Azure chuckled, “Do you truly believe that would work? That no one would notice a specific group of Danaversians seem to be predicting the location and timing of every attack perfectly? If you do believe your strategy would work, then there’s no reason my tactic wouldn’t work either. Unless, of course, you’re intentionally leaving something out.” The Leanorian cocked his head, “We don’t like it when people screw with us.” Azure nodded, “No we don’t. Now then, this is where you begin to elaborate on what you’ve said previously and respond to my previous statements so I can determine whether or not you can be considered trustworthy. As for your people’s safety, you have my word we won’t go further than we need to. Our interests are in your warmongering military leaders, not your civilians.” The Leanorian stood up straight for a moment and walked over to one of the walls, he was listening to a message on his personal communicator, a small device implanted in his ear. After he was done, he approached Azure and whispered something in her ear; she nodded and signaled for him to leave.

Outside Illesia City, Alversia

The Belkan dropship had touched down just twelve hours ago, and already their base camp had been established. Troops, armor and mobile suits from the Belkan fleet had been deposited and encamped, along with crates of replacement parts and weaponry for the space fleet. The Belkans were staunch believers in never putting too many eggs in one basket, so preperations for the worst possible outcome in space were being made.

Alversian Orbit

The Belkan fleet had taken position a safe distance from the Alversians, yet close enough to provide accurate cover fire and quick mobile suit relief. Across the planet's gravity well, mobile suit snipers armed with heavy beam cannons had taken up positions, disguised as asteroids or dead satellites. The Booleans would come, and they would die.

Miller, Improvised HQ

Green popped up from cover and blazed away, taking three Booleans with his one burst. The return fire sizzled around him, but he managed to duck in time...barely. Seemingly unfazed by the bolts, he grinned.
"I'd say you owe me thirty credits."
Scooting around the boulder, he looked out again.
"Fuckers are all over us. I would kill for some air support right now." He looked at Dui. "I feel like that's going to be priority number one when we get out of here." He laughed suddenly, looking at Dui again. Well, not number one...

Miller, City

The troops of the first brigade did not hesitate, and were not halted for long. The tactical situation was not one which anybody would be comfortable, but their choice was clear.
Option one was to stay in the open and try to return fire. Unfortunately, they had no cover to speak of and their heaviest hitters, the tanks and mechs, were either gone or occupied.
Option two was what the troops opted for. Xiscapian and Setulan alike charged towards the buildings. The Joint Force troops would have defilade from the fire from the Danaversians, as they would need to lean out of their windows to shoot down...and in the process expose themselves. The troopers who assaulted the building mouseholed the walls and started to rise, hoping to engage the Danaversians in the close, brutal combat that would free their comrades from the pinning fire.
In the streets, what heavy weapons could be unlimbered and set up quicky (mostly rockets) were banged off at the building, ripping massive chunks from the structure. Meanwhile, while an entire battalion was sent to deal with the Danaversians, the rest of the formation hurried, trying to get to the extraction point as quickly as possible. Time was running out.

Tenfour

Marchamp smiled back.
"Certainly, Empress. I have been impressed with the quality of coffee in the mansions as of yet, but I must see if this wonderful bean used is common throughout the system."

Sanix

Alvis Corporation, with two thirds of its navy destroyed at Nova Reginix was forced to abandon the Greali and look after themselves. Reduced to a miserable ninety eight battlecruisers plus one battleship, the corporation began trading with some new nations in the system, since as the Acerian Federation, but it was about meet some new neighbors. The Berrax Republic decided to further make their standing and Republic stronger since the Danaversians were wrapping up conquests of nearby planets. Laxer and Hurtrix, both recently captured by the Berrax, began, with the help of Berrax engineers, turning out ships at an alarming rate. Still, the majority of the Berrax military were all veterans of the Greali war, as recruits poured in.

Sanix was to be over-run by the Berrax so they can secure the last of the routes into Nova Max. It was not certain it would collapse immediately fighting the Danaversians, but the Berrax Naval Command was not going to gamble. Alvis corporation apparently wasn't either. The Corporation officially gave over control of the planet and it's navy over to the Berrax after a massive naval task force arrived. New trade venues were opened. But, it seemed war was upon them as reports flooded in that Miller was about the fall, the last of the routes to Hurtrix, before moving on to Nova Max.

Improvised HQ

The Alversians were fighting again, despite the fact that their numbers were slowly waning due to the firepower being brought to bear on them. Although the fire on the Coalition Defence was stronger than ever, the inexperienced Troops did not panic, their resolve had been stiffened sufficiently to allow resistance until the end of the battle. However, the sounds of blasterfire and the screams of the wounded were soon drowned out by a loud shrieking that deafened all in the area. The pitch of the noise rose and rose into a great crescendo. Finally, it climaxed in a mountain of earth blown up from the base of the hill, showering in the defenders in earth.

"Shells!" One of the Corporals yelled to his men rather unnecessarily, "Under cover!"

"Damn Corporal, face it like a man!" Another Corporal shouted, the same one who had rallied his fellow Infantry and was now shouting over the vox for them to stand and resist the urge to hide from the sudden bombardment,
"The moment you hide, they'll be all over us! Stay your positions and keep your aim true!" he yelled it over and over again just so that his troops understood what would happen if they gave in to fear again. He seemed to have taken temporary control of the platoon.

Miller, City, Vanguard

The Danaversians gleefully watched as the Setulans and Xiscapians charged across open ground, mowing them down from the windows, losses being suffered from both the rockets and return fire being easily replaced by more of the 300 troops who had managed to land behind the defences when the AA Cover was withdrawn and occupied this one part of the city. As the Setulans and Xiscapians moved across the open plain in front of the tall building, the Danaversians, using a fully automatic mode, swept across their formation, throwing their own dead away from the windows to free up space.

Even when the Joint Division troops reached the lower levels, they found the ground floor doors opened up into a vast, open, two floored lobby, which the Danaversians had filled with rubble to form barricades. As soon as they entered through the double doors or climbed in through the holes in the wall, they were attacked by the Danaversians in this main area, though those manning the front windows beside the door were quickly dispatched. When it had been them attacking, the Danaversians had suffered badly.

Now it was the Joint Division's time to suffer.

Miller, City, Rearguard

Saan could hear the beginning of the battle at the front of the column and he turned to see what was happening with the Vanguard. There was nothing happening in the rearguard, only the screening force was in view, the main Danaversian force were still too far away, trying to navigate the flames put up by the Xiscapian Mechs. With the light of hindsight, it was not such a bad idea after all.
"Keep them down, Colonel," Saan called to one of his Colonels, Colonel Jem, who had come back to supervise the Rearguard. The Kitsune put his hand up to signal that he had heard the order while Saan tracked back to the front of the column to see what was happening.

Miller, near the Column

The Boolean Mecha descended to the ground as well, all weapons deactivated while he measured up his Xiscapian Opponent, remarking on how similar they looked when close up. Only the arrangement of weapons was different, along with the height and weight of the machines. The Boolean version was slightly sorter, slightly bulkier in all areas. He raised his fists in a rather amusing stance similar to that of a Boxer.

Again, his vox crackled into life,
"You were dishonoured with your Commander's death. I shall allow you the first blow." The Boolean stated calmly.

Miller orbit, APS Catalan

"What?" Admiral Barton frowned, looking over the sensors of the surface, shaking his head in frustration, "What are those fools doing? If the Danaversian's can bring in fighters, they'll cut the retreating forces to pieces"
Again, the Kitsune was being an irritating nuiscance but he had to ignore him for the moment, it seemed like the Danaversian forces on the opposite side of the planet were stirring. If they came across orbit and engaged the Alversian forces, there would be little he could do but withdraw. He so hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Alversian Space, Alvo/Belkaran Fleet

Reynolds stood easily on his bridge, watching as the Belkaran Fleet moved into position near to his own fleet. There was a large gap between the two Allied fleets as he had been informed by the Grand Admiral that the Belkaran ships may start to interfere with his own. He supposed that it was a wise precaution. He had actually started to form an idea in his mind, an idea that he hoped would satisfy both Fleets and still crush the Danaversian attackers. Quickly, he dispatched a message to the Belkaran flagship, laying out his plan.

My Greetings Admiral. I request that your fleet move to take
a position in the centre of the fleet. Our smaller ships, cloaked, will take
up positions on your flanks with our heavy ships closest to yours. With
luck, the Danaversians will be drawn to our biggest ships and we can
catch them in a crossfire. Please relay your opinion or confirmation
of this move.

Greywatch Station

Novoax looked at the Greywatcher with no emotion betraying his fury. He was a Danaversian, he did not have the patience to deal with this and their doubting ways. No doubt that this had always been a thin cover but he had seen a lot of this nation, their Soldiers and it had all be broadcast back to the Empire via a subspace neural link. They knew of Greywatch and they knew where it was.
"Do you want to know what I think?" He sneered, a cracking coming from his jaws as he spoke, "I think we shall triumph in this war and all this will be ours." he laughed, which quickly turned into a croak, a choking noise, then his eyes dulled and he collapsed over, dead, thanks to the poisen pill that he had stored in his cheek and just chewed on. All the other Danaversians did the same, ensuring that there was no way to interrogate them. They were all dead.

Lune, Xiscapia

Emma listened to Ginta talk about his family and smiled as he smiled, seeing his memories as he recalled them. She felt envious for a moment at that thought, as her family life had been virtually destroyed by Chloe's death. She had gone from having a loving and caring Father to a bad tempered Kitsune who spent all his time sitting in the garden, watching the sky, waiting for the day when his Daughter would come home. He alone had refused to accept that she was dead,
"I have three...two Sisters," She hastily corrected herself, "One of them is an Imperial Guard for the Emperor and the other is Chief of Police in Tenfour. They both went into law enforcement after..." She paused for a moment, tears reappearing in her eyes before she wiped them away,
"Anyway, enough of this talk, what did you work on before coming to the military? I must confess I have not followed your work."

Berrax Border

The Danaversians had noticed both the Berrax advances into ex-Greali space and the way which they were mobilising their own Navies and they moved quickly to put a stop to it. They're fleets may have been heavily engaged elsewhere but they had more than enough resources to fight on those campaigns as well as this new one. They assembled a huge fleet, over three thousand ships had been assembled for the campaign that would bring the Berrax into the Imperial Border. All they waited for was the right moment.

OOC: The adjective for Belkaros is Belkan

Alversian Space, Bridge of Mundus's Spear

Horan read the transmission, then opened a holographic display of the fleets on his command pannel. He showed the existing two groups parting, and his own forces forming a spearhead at the center. He then issued his commands to his fleet, and a request for relocation to the given co-ordinates to the other ships, and set his ships in motion.

Belkan Armed Forces Reserve Center, LOCATION CLASSIFIED-SIGMA DESIGNATE

Thousands of mobile suits and nearly three hundred ships were being prepared for deployment. Troops from every corner of the Empire were being armed and briefed on Boolian and Danaversian weapons and tactics. Men, beasts and machines were training rigorously, and resting as needed. The full strength of the Imperium was being mustered for the sole end of crushing the enemy's forces and claiming new lands in the emperor's name.

Improvised HQ...

Dui didn't even wince as a shell landed nearby and threw up dirt around her, clattering off her armor and onto the ground. She knew they were stuck now: With no armor, artillery or any kind of support of their own, the enemy could shell them into submission at their leisure, and while the exposed Alversians might outlast a few strikes, a prolonged bombardment would tear them apart. She also knew that if they withdrew into cover the Booleans would charge, but they held the high ground, an advantageous position, not to mention the Heavy Weapons teams that had their rapid-fire turrets set up. If their morale held, and their aim was true, when the enemy advanced they could tear them apart on the slope, and possibly give them a little breathing room.
If their morale held.

Dui debated with herself. If she overrode the Corporal and ordered the troops into cover, not only would it either undermine his authority (or possibly hers, if they rallied behind him), it also might make the morale of the platoon break, seeing infighting between officers. But if the troops stayed out in the open, they would surely die, and the result would be the same. So Dui chose to wait, and watch the situation unfold. If the enemy made no movement, and the shelling continued, she would override the Corporal anyway. But if all this was just cover for a ground assault, the enemy came forward, like she hoped they might, they could destroy them.
So Colonel Dui waited.

Miller, City, Vanguard...

The vast majority of the Xiscapian troops had sensibly stayed behind and assisted in attacking the building with mortars, rockets and high explosives, honestly hoping to collapse the structure before their comrades got inside. Any kitsune relished a good Close Quarters Combat fight, but they didn't go out of their way for one, and if their goal was mobility, CQC was not the way to go about attaining it. To their disappointment and slight alarm the Setulanites and a few scattered kitsune made it inside, and they shifted their focus to the remaining snipers and the higher part of the building. As Saan made his way to the Vanguard he was met by a kitsune with insignia denoting him a Major. "They're all mad, sir," he gestured to the building, "I don't know what damned fool ordered that assault, but we're getting bogged down here. We don't have time to clear that building!"

Miller, City, Occupied Building...

A single squad of kitsune had charged along with their human brethern, caught up in the excitement, and now the Corporal in charge was seriously regretting it. In the attack he had lost two of his soldiers as they ran across the field, dead or wounded he didn't know, and once they reached the interior it all became pure hell. One of his troopers, an Xiscapian barely more than a kit, had stabbed a Danaversian gunner clean though, and been taken down a second later by a blaster shot to the head. Now the Corporal and his remaining six privates were couching or pressed against any cover they could find, trying to cross the lobby and get upstairs. "Liberal use of 'nades, show 'em no quarter!" He shouted over his vox, and the Xiscapians began tossing thermal detonators at the enemy, or smoke out in front to screen their movements. Also used were self-propelled mines, which either floated on thrusters up to the Danaversians on the upper floors, or took to the stairs to ambush the soldiers, difficult to see in the dim light and moving very quickly. These had a fifty-yard blast radius, and so in the enclosed spaces would turn any Danaversians into splatters on the wall.

Dualing Ground...

"May the best sapient win."
Blue Three studied his foe for a moment. He was pretty sure he was faster, but any weaponry advantages had been negated, and the Boolean seemed quite confident. However, he noted the alien had taken a 'boxing' stance, and something all military kitsune trained in the martial arts was that such posture had one distinct disadvantage, enhanced by the restrictiveness of the suit.

The Light Assault Mecha was the final product of three generations of mechanized, or heavy, infantry testing. The first generation had been quite clunky, little more than slightly more mobile walkers, not possessing the power of flight nor the humanoid appearance of the currents ones. The second generation had been vastly improved, and more similar to modern ones, but the range of motion had been severely limited, the movements faster than the previous but still significantly slower than your average Xiscapian infantry, and high maintenance. The third generation was fluid in movement and could preform any actions the pilot could, plus quite a few more, and moved as fast as their users did. So when the Boolean fought Blue Three's LAM, he was really fighting a bigger, stronger, more dangerous version of Blue Three.

Blue Three simply drove his huge metal foot into the crotch of the Boolean. Obviously it wouldn't hurt the alien inside the armor any, but it might throw him off balance, and if that worked Blue Three knew he could throw the other to the floor and end the dual right there.

Miller orbit, APS Catalan...

Urteil gave a dark chuckle. "Come now, you can do better than that..." He murmured, watching the fight below.

Tenfour, Xiscapia...

Jade smiled softly. "You have our Korr comrades to thank for that. They perfected the mixture of ingredients to make astoundingly good caffeine brew many centuries ago. The cafe up ahead is owned and operated by Korr; they'll make you a cup of coffee you can't refuse."

They came up on the coffee shop, which was little more than a kiosk counter with a few tables and chairs out in the open air. Behind this stood a massive, ape-like being: He appeared for all the galaxy like a gorilla covered in gray fur, with beady orange eyes and long, tusk-like fangs protruding from his mouth. Comically, he wore an over sized apron and a small green cap that looked like a patch of moss atop the boulder-shaped head, which made the eight foot six inch beast seem somewhat less intimidating. Beefy arms crossed over a chest as hard as stone as they approached, and the Korr made a movement that could have been a bow. "Empress," he murmured, voice incredibly deep and gravelly, almost a growl. The delicate, pale kitsune bowed back. "Gurge."

Now the one called Gurge turned his square head to look at Marchamp. "'Dis 'n Alversian 'bassador?"

"This is Prime Minister Marchamp, of Setulan," the Empress introduced her companion. "We'd like to place an order."

Gurge looked from her to Marchamp, snorting, and the Ambassador would be able to feel the hot breath of the Korr even from feet away.

"Do you folks like coffee?," he looked at both of them again,
"Real coffee?
From the hills, of Korrillia?"

Jade put down two coins on the counter with a click of metal on stone, keeping her fingers on them. Gurge stared at them, then continued.

"The Duncan Hills will wake you
From a thousand depths
A cup of blackened blood"
Two others in the back of the preparation area joined in. "Dying, Dying,"
"You're dying for a cup."

One amount of thread.
Eating up the earth.
French vanilla roast
Dying, Dying,
You're dying for a cup

Jade slid the currency across to Gurge. He scooped them up and they vanished into his massive fist.

"Prepare for ultimate FLAVOR
You're gonna get some
NOW!" He turned around as he said this, and his two co-patriots in the back got to work. He faced them again, seeming to rise up like some wrathful god.
"And scream, for your cream!
HUH!"

The movements of the workers were indistinct, large hands moving deceptively quick as they ground beans, added spices and mixed it all together, almost furtive in their movements. They began to hand off the cups, shuttling them over to Gurge, assembly-line style, who continued to speak in almost a chant as they came nearer.

"DUNCAN HILLS
DUNCAN HILLS
DUNCAN HILLS
COFFEE!"

With this last word he slammed down two mugs of steaming coffee, so hard the counter cracked slightly. He stood still for a moment, then pointed across the patio. "Sugar, milk and cream is over there," he said blandly, but Marchamp could see that he was quite pleased with himself. Jade handed off one of the cups to Marchamp and they proceeded over to a small table where the sweeteners were, the Empress filling hers with milk. "Gurge is fond of his theatrics," she said calmly, smiling in good humor as she said this.*


Lune, Xiscapia...

Ginta was impressed. A prominent scientist, the Chief of a city police force, and a Black Guard, all born of a wealthy business tycoon...Emma's family were obviously driven. He wondered what Chloe would have been if she survived...no, he reminded himself, would have been if she had been given the chance. She was still alive, he could feel it in his bones.

"A little of this, a little of that," he waved a hand airily, trying not to concentrate on the tear rolling down her cheek. "I worked on the Jaunt project, designed a few weapons...a lot of it's classified, by the government, or by a NDA by a company, but I work with physics and mechanics, mostly. Sometimes I do a little design, but most of it's hard science." He smiled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, tail flicking nervously.

OOC:
*Coffee song (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9iCpXVigaLo)
Yes, that was entirely so I could use the music in my post.

Miller, Vanguard

A Lieutenant Colonel stepped up next to the major.
"We like to call it a distraction, Major. We don't need to clear the building...we just need to take it down. Which is most easily done from the inside. And in the meantime, while the Danaversians are busy dealing with the several hundred troops who have made it inside, that reduces fire on us. Start moving the troops around, we'll have this taken care of soon."



Colony 2 had taught the Danaversians one thing above all others-in close quarters, Setulan soldiers excel and can easily fight above their own numbers.
Infantry school for the Planetary Guard was twenty six weeks of intensive combat operations. Fully six weeks are spent training how to clear buildings.
Infantry school for the Republican Guard is eight months in addition to the twenty six weeks of regular school. Of this eight months, two of them are spent learning how to clear buildings.
It was one of the lessons learned from the darkest days of the Great War, when troops were engaging each other at point blank range in the hives and factories of the planet. To succeed, one must be able to dismantle the enemy in close quarters...and they trained for it constantly.
The troops in the building started to show this expertise once more. With savage cries, they blazed away at enemy targets, keeping their heads down. But that was only the distraction, and they didn't have the strength to push into the building any farther.
Losses were moderate for the time, and casualties were efficiently dispatched to the rear upon being wounded. It was bloody, close butchers work...but this is what they were good at.
The combat inside the building hadn't lasted five minutes when a withdrawl order was given. The troops pulled back in an orderly fashion...and then started sprinting away.
Beaten and bruised but not yet defeated, they withdrew.

Miller, Improvised HQ

Green dove into cover as the shells started singing in. He mumbled a curse. That corporal was going to get them all killed. What the hell was taking the Division so fucking long?

Timothy's Cloth and Fitting, Limur

To all who passed it on the street, Timothy's Cloth and Fitting was a highly exclusive fashion industry. Indeed, if one dared to enter the heavy, blastproof doors, they would find that inside was a well-furbished...fashion parlor. True, an expensive one, but just a fashion parlor nonetheless. Said guest would be treated well, shown some wonderful designs with exorbant prices, and leave with their curiosity satisfied.
They were never allowed into the basement.
Timothy's was known to the Setulan Government as Facility 656, the most succesful experimental weapons design team in the system.
Facility 656 had designed the Beachead Tank.
They had designed the Banshee.
656 engineers had thought up the shield umbrella theory, and though testing was needless to say done in space, they still recieved credit.

To someone from another system, the Setulan military industry would seem unusual. At first glance, the government created everything on their own, and did their own research. This was true...to a point.
The government researchers did in fact come up with theories, but it was still widely accepted that the best designers and thinkers were in the civilian marketplace, and so when an idea came up-like the Beachead-the greatest civilian minds were contacted, taken from their jobs, and given unlimited amounts of cash and every resource the government had to make their ideas a reality.
Marchamp had been picked up in this way for the Beachead design. Jules Lavern, widely accepted as the greatest physical scientist in the history of the system, worked as a consultant in this way. A strange practice that still got things done.

Unfortunately, 656 had been low on the radar for years. The few who knew of its existance wondered what they were working on that could take so damn long..little knowing field trials had just been completed. The gear was being shipped to the front even as they pondered just what it was...

Miller, Improvised HQ

The shells continued to fall all around the defensive positions of the Coalition troops in a constant shower. Each impact brought a defeaning explosion and threw up great mounds of earth, showering the Defenders in mud and tree roots. Despite this physical presence, this symbol of Boolean supremacy in the immediate area, it seemed that most of the explosions were inflicting minimal damage. In fact, most of the shells seemed to either fall short or scream overhead to land on the other side of the hill. The Booleans were firing blind, firing from beyond the smokescreen of the Xiscapian Mechs, unable to use their targeting sensors thanks to Alversian jamming equipment. The big guns were still firing but the impacts were random.

Then, finally breaking from their cover in the hill, came a long line of enemy troops. However, they were not Boolean Infantry, there was no mistaking the big black armour covering an imposing body that was uniquely Danaversian. It seemed like the Booleans were unwilling to risk an attack on the hill. Either that, or the Danaversians had insisted upon taking the hill themselves. Whatever the reason, the advancing Danaversians were running into the sights of the Alversian Infantry. The Alversians stood at their cover, now ignoring the waning fire of the Booleans, watching the Danaversians come steadily closer.

"Draw the steel lads," The Corporal instructed the Platoon, his mouth dry at the sight of the advancing Infantry. They had to be outnumbered by maybe two to one by just these troops alone. At his command, the Alversian Infantry slipped bayonets from the sheaths along their belts and slotting them onto the end of their rifles, hoping that they would not get close enough to actually have to stab.

The Danaversians came closer and closer and yet still the Alversians did not fire, waiting for the order of their Commander before they let loose with the blaster fire. More than a few Soldiers had the shakes, the gun sights trembling before their eyes while they muttered prayers of safety beneath their breaths. The Danaversian line, before now disciplined and restrained, now began to break up as the more eager troops tried to get into the bloody combat before the more Veteran soldiers. In the end it didn't matter. For that moment, the Corporal's voice came over the vox again, nothing more than a croak,
"Let 'em have it" He commanded.

The Alversian Troops, finally able to release their fear upon the enemy, opened fire. As soon as the first bolt left the barrel though, then it was training that took over. The Alversians no longer worried about their fears, worried about their safety or worried about their welfare. The artillery seemed to melt into the background. They had spent months standing in all weathers, from blistering sun to driving rain, taking shots at distant targets, standing, kneeling or lying, they had learnt how to change from one target to another, how to hit them all in one shot, where the key weaknesses where and how best to hit them. How to squeeze the trigger, let loose one bolt, then shift to another target without a thought. Those months had been cursed passionately by all Alversian Infantry, but it was in these circumstances where there training paid off.

A mere matter of moments had passed, no more, before the Danaversians were in headlong flight down the hill, leaving behind them the smell of burning ozone and scorched flesh. The high-water mark of the Danaversian advance was marked by bodies, showing how far they had reached before being thrown back by the Alversian blasterfire. The line was marked by a similiar line of dead. The attack had been repelled.

The Platoon of inexperienced Troops stood and watched the retreat, not daring to believe that it had been that easy. They had heard all the old stories before, of Alversian Battalions mauled by Danaversian assualts that had split the famous blasterfire and cut them apart at close range, swamping them. But no, they had cleared off one Danaversian assualt, with the assistance of the Setulan Troops behind and above them, of course. Then the Corporal's voice came over the vox,

"Down!"

Now the Alversians, confidence boosted by the successful repulse of the attack, now settled into their cover, satisfied that the Danaversians would not attack again. Not until the bombardment had had a little more time to do it's work. All the survivors of the Platoon hid apart from the Corporal who stood and watched the shells falling, staying in the open to keep an eye out for another, more covert attack.

Miller, Mecha Battle

There was one problem that the Xiscapian Mech had failed to notice of the Boolean whom he faced. He was slightly smaller than the Kitsune model, that was true, but they were no less agile and the Operator was no less adept at using his technology to his own advantage. He managed to leap backwards out of the way, narrowly avoiding the foot as it swept into the air in front of the Boolean before he came forward, still on mechanical toes. He japped forward, the metal arm responding instantly to his command, lashing forward to hit the Xiscapian right in the chin. At the same time, he also jumped backwards to avoid any counter attack that may come from the Xiscapian.

Above the fight meanwhile, the Boolean Mecha who had not engaged moved closer to Blue Four, sending him a message while still watching the fight between the two LAM's,
"May I ask your Unit's name?" Blue Four's Vox crackled into life with the strange accent again. The Boolean seemed interesting in conversing, even though they were meant to be enemies.
"My people have been very impressed with yours," He admitted, "Your Armies are very good indeed." He was referring to the Coalition Forces as he watched.
"I assume that they are Elite forces? I can promise on my honour that I will not share your secrets with my Superiors"

Miller, City

"Right," Saan watched as the Setulan troops scrambled over the rubble out of the Danaversian fire, a couple more being felled as it hit him in the back. He sighed in frustration at the sight of his Vanguard withdrawing. The Xiscapian Major was right. No matter what the best intentions of the Brigade Commander, he had just been repulsed by the Danaversians and it was a situation that needed to be remedied and quickly. Foolish perhaps, overeagerness, definately.

The Major was also right in another manner, the building could not be cleared. The block was too big and the enemy too numerous to make such an option viable. Even from here, he could see the shadow of a barricade within, which he knew would repel any attackers who made it through the storm of fire from the Upper windows. He sighed for a moment as he thought. They didn't have time to do this.

"Major," The Kitsune made his mind up almost immediately, "Two dozen of the Joint Division's finest snipers if you will please, along with a half dozen Missile troopers." As soon as he had given the order, he tapped his vox,
"Colonel Jem? May I borrow the Grenadiers for a moment please? Take Marl's Company as a replacement"
His idea was simple. He could not take the building but, at the same time, he did not imagine the Danaversians foolish enough to try and storm into the street in front of 15,000 Troops. He planned on having the Snipers watch the top windows, keeping an eye out for any Danaversian who tried anything funny while the Division was marching past. While they were doing that, the Grenadiers could storm the lower floor, clear it out room by room and move up to each floor as the other was cleared. There was no need to keep the two Units waiting, once the bottom floors were cleared, then those above would be forced to defend themselves against Invaders from below and he could march easily past. Even if a Danaversian position proved stubborn, he could use the Missile Troopers as his own personal tanks.

He no longer trusted the Commander of the Vanguard, not after such a decision. He could still use the troops though, to assist his own Company, for together, the Danaversians would not hold out against the combined offensive.
"Quickly" Saan called to the men, knowing that the fate of all these troops depended on speed. If the Snipers could get into the buildings on the other side of the street, then they could fire down into the windows and force the Danaversians deeper into the building.

Same idea. Better execution.

Belkan/Alversian Fleet, Alversian Space

Reynolds watched calmly as the ships under his command, Belkan and Alversian alike, moved into the positions that he had order them into. The Belkans took up their positions in the centre while the Strato-Dreadnoughts, Super-Dreadnoughts and Dreadnoughts took up positions along their flank, the standard position of any Alversian warship. The smaller ships, the Cruisers and Destroyers, finally reached their own position, approximately 45 degrees to the main force, like the three ships of a large, loose triangle. Once the Danaversians came in and attacked his capital ships, which he knew they would, then he could catch them in a crossfire and finally close off their escape with the Fighters from the Carrier fleet further away.

If there was one thing that Admiral John Reynolds knew, it was how to fight the Danaversians. His entire Career had been spent fighting them. He knew how their thought and, perhaps more importantly, he knew how they came back from failure. If an Admiral knew how to break up his Enemy's plan B, then he would wun the battle, plain and simple. The ships on his right wing were commanded by Admiral Bartlett, another Alversian who had fought Danaversians since he had could hold a pistol, and Rear-Admiral Cavourna controlled the left. He needed no introduction.

As soon as the smaller ships were in position, they're hull began to shimmer and distort as they slipped behind their cloaks, becoming invisible to friend and foe alike. Now it was all about waiting. Scout vessels had located an approaching Shoal, an approaching Danaversian fleet, one that consisted of over 300 ships. It was a big gap. Hopefully, brain would prevail over brawn, as it always had.

Then the sensors of the Alversian ships lit up like Christmas, showing where the Danaversians were coming from, how far away they were and, most importantly, what trajectory they were following. Reynolds found himself letting out a breath he had been unwittingly holding as he looked over the sensors. The Danaversians had taken the bait! They were heading straight for the big ships in the centre, completely unaware of the ships along their flanks. It was going to be a major mistake for them.

As the Danaversians emerged from hyperspace, a vast number of ships that dwarfed the smaller number of Coalition vessels, the small cluster of battleships that stuck out in the middle of empty space. The Danaversians droned on, completely unaware of the flanking ships.
"Now please, if you will," Reynolds had to shout to his Communications Officer, the noise within the ship growing to a loud whine as the first of many Alversian CDPD batteries began to warm up in prepartion for firing.

The process started at a conventional phaser bank. Here the beams that would have normally made up a phaser were fired into a crytal found only on Alversia. The crytal magnified the beam's speed by ten and so increased it's hitting power by ten. This was before it had even reached the second crystal, an artificial type manufactured in Illesian Labratories that increased the size of the beam and thus increased it's hitting power again. At this point, the power contained within this weapon was insane and needed to be directed quickly away from the Alversian warships before it ingulfed them from within. The weapon needed time to charge fully but when it had, there was virtually nothing that could stand in it's way. The normal announcement came over the tannoy system,
"All hands brace for CDPB firing. All hands brace for CDPB firing."

The Tactical Officer quickly tapped the button on his console. Down in the hull, the firing Officer noted the green lights come up on his panel, each light represented a part of the ship that had given it's approval to fire. The other Batteries, the Sensory department, the Communications department, the main sections of the vessel and finally the bridge itself. With that, the Firing Officer tapped the button on his panel and released the beast.

Each burst totalled three shots, each shot with enough power to turn a planet into mere molecules, enough to cut through a Danaversian Barracuda as if it weren't there. The internal recoil juddered the Strato-Dreadnought as the first of many batteries opened fire. Within moments, dozens of Barracuda burned, either as merely particles or as sheared fragments to indicate which part of the hull had been hit. The Danaversian attack was already going astray, for they were forced to break formation to avoid their stricken comrades. It was now that Reynolds tapped the Vox commanding the fleet,

"All central ships may fire at will. Flanks hold position"

Now the Alversian warships opened up with their other weapons, everthing from MACs to Phasers were directed at the Danaversian attackers, the space between filled with energy bursts, blasts and explosions. No small craft dare go in for fear of being caught in the deadly crossfire.

Battle had, at last, begun.

Lune, Xiscapia

"Wow," Emma was genuinely impressed. It seemed like Ginta had earned every piece of praise attributed to him by the Scientists that she had talked to prior to taking the job with him. She noticed his signs of nervousness and smiled, for she knew that she was also betraying the same emotions. She wondered if she should ask a delicate question, one that he may not like, but then one that she was simply burning to know the answe to,
"With all of this research we're doing, I suppose there is no Significant Other in your life?" She asked delicately, her tail flicking in acute embarressment as she drank her tea.

Bridge of Mundus' Spear
Horan's eyes lit up as he saw the Danaversian ships appear. Belkans were, at times, a bloodthirsty lot, and the aged admiral could almost feel himself salivate as he gave his first combat orders. His knowledge of the Danaversians was somewhat lacking, but he recognized a battleship among the ships, and had it targeted. Several decks below, a high density plasma round was loaded into one of the Spear's two Linear Accceleration Cannons. The other barrel was targeted at an equally prize vessal and similarly armed. Within five minutes, every ship in the Belkan battleforce with such a weapon had it loaded and zeroed in on an enemy ship. As one, the ships fired, and thirty seven HDP shells went hurtling at near light speed twoards the Danaversians. The shells, sometimes called Cadbury Eggs by technicians, were hyper-dense metallic casings around superheated plasma interiors, a creamy center inside a hard casing, hence the nickname.

Belkan Fleet, Flight Decks
In every ship with a hangar, Belkan Rick Dias (http://www.downloadmunkey.net/images/miotd08.jpg) suits were being boarded and deployed en masse. The true strength of the Belkan fleet was it's mobile suit force. Each suit combined the manuverability of a fighter with the attack power of a battleship turret, and even one ace could turn the tide of an entire conflict. Hopefully, one such ace was sitting behind the controls of one of the suits being hurdled out into space, though hundreds of pilots would surley die before such an ace would be found.

Miller, Improvised HQ...

Dui watched the assault, hearing the hiss and thud of weapons firing around her mixed with the cries of the living and the screams of the dying, all underscored by the omnipresent howl of incoming shells. She wondered where the Danaversians had come from; she had been quite sure that there had been only Booleans attacking them, but evidently they had somehow gotten behind Coalition lines without anybody noticing. It disturbed her deeply: Somehow a sizable enemy force had either landed or marched to outrun the Coalition to the last LZ, and though she had no long-range communications, she suspected no one else outside the area knew of it, either. The implication was that they had penetrated deeply into Coalition territory without being seen by the Joint Division or the 610th Guards or detected by the orbiting Alversian warships. That meant that nobody knew of the threat they were fighting, which in turn meant that they couldn't hope for any support, air, orbital or otherwise, to clear out the enemy.

There was nothing she could do now. Whether the LZ stayed in Coalition hands or was overrun by the enemy depended on the Alversian and Setulanite troops here and the officers subordinate to Dui; there were no more tactics or strategies she could utilize that would do any good. And with their communications knocked out she couldn't summon a strike, so it was only a matter of time until they were overwhelmed. No matter how good the Alversian soldiers were, they could not fight forever, everything rested upon the 610th and the Joint Division getting though to them and sweeping their attackers aside. No doubt the ships in orbit were following the movements of the main body of Coalition troops, so once they closed in on the hill, they could expect support.
She closed her eyes. Qonnspeed, ye fifteen thousand.

Miller, City...

"Yes sir!" The Major saluted crisply, he had measurably more respect for Saan than for the Setulanite Brigade Commander. In his eyes, the Brigader Commander had just thrown lives away and wasted time with the attack, when a heavy weapons strike was much faster and more effective. Speaking into his vox, the Major gave orders rapidly. "Strikers, half team, prepare for mobile assault." The Heavy Weapons units of the Xiscapian Grand Army, often nicknamed Strikers, were equipped with Thermobaric (also known as heat and pressure, or fuel-air) rocket launchers, a deadly type of munition that sprayed flammable gas over a wide target area, then detonated it in less time than it took to tell about it. Effective in any situation, the weapons were particularly lethal inside structures, caves or starships, or other oxygen deficient environments. The Major suspected Saan planned to either fire the rockets inside the building though the windows to gut it, or possibly for use inside the structure to clear it floor-by-floor.

The team leader (http://cane-mckeyton.deviantart.com/art/Hollocahn-Soldier-60909670) muttered to himself as he loaded a rocket. "Onward we stagger, and if tanks come, Qonn help the tanks..."

The kitsune snipers (http://lemuren.deviantart.com/art/Sniper-43062510), on the other hand, knew exactly what they were going for, and were already in motion when ordered. Setting up their rifles behind debris, in craters or inside other structures, they cloaked, hiding themselves from view, and got to work. A single round from the solid-shot rifles could tear off a limb and the trauma alone would kill quickly, but the laser ones were silent, invisible and impossible to trace. The only warning any of the Danaversians would get would be when the comrade beside them fell with a smoking hole where his face had once been. As they concentrated all over the structure, but particularly on MG nests, GL positions and the upper floors, the enemy would learn why their motto was 'Reach out and touch someone'...

Miller, Duel...

Blue Four's railguns were instantly targeting and tracking the Boolean, but he did not fire, waiting warily. After a time, he answered along the same frequency in his grizzled, growling voice. "This is what's left of the Blue Squad, a mechanized unit of the Xis-Set Joint Division. They're the ones in the silver and black armor, the other kitsune in the green armor belong to the Alversian 610th Guards. I don't know if you'd consider us elite..." He paused. "I know the JD is composed of the Eighth Xiscapian Marines and the First Republican Rifles, both are pretty damn high on the combat scale, so yeah, I guess you could say that." His mech actually simulated shrugging.

Blue Three's head jerked up as the blow landed below his chin, and, snarling, he lashed out, but the Boolean was no longer there. With a terrible cry he charged the Boolean, and the true fighting began. It was hard to tell outside of the motion of the whole mech precisely what either of them were doing, the combat was so fast, but neither let up and the clang of metal-on-metal could be heard almost constantly. It was sort of a weird dance, both the armored suits circling each other, jabbing and striking and smashing away, until finally Blue Three grabbed his opponent's arm. The Boolean went to yank away but the LAM stubbornly held on, slamming into the other, and under the full force the Boolean staggered. Blue Three kept up the assault, punching and jabbing and hammering away, and the Boolean teetered, stunned by the blows, before the Xiscapian ended it with a vicious uppercut that sent the other multi-ton mecha sprawling.

Blue Four was jubilant. "Finish him!"
Blue Three put one massive foot on the chest of his opponent, knowing that if he increased the pressure the limb would plunge straight though the armor to crush it's alien pilot. "You have fought honourably," gasped the Boolean warrior, "A dishonourable triumph is no victory, and just the same, an honourable loss is no defeat."

The faceless visage of Blue Three's LAM stared down at his foe. "And in the same manner, you have fought honorably," he murmured, neither removing his foot nor going in for the kill. "The Ancient Texts demand that the life of an honorable foe be spared, for then he is the mandated to pay the kindness forward, so as to resolve himself of his debt. The wrath of Qonn is to be feared by the dishonorable, the cowards and the betrayers, but his Hand of Judgement shall be merciful on the honorable, the worthy and the defenders of peace, freedom and knowledge. So it has been, so it shall be." He removed his foot and extended his hand to help the Boolean up. "We are willing to extend our hand if you are willing to unclench your fist. Go with grace and honor, and think about what has transpired here."
There was no need to remind him of their pact.

Lune, Xiscapia...

"No," Ginta answered almost immediately, but the tip of his tail wriggled left to right, curling around itself, almost in the same manner a distressed human would run his or her hand though their hair. "Well..." He fidgeted. "Not really." He left an embarrassed silence.

Conference Room, Imperial Palace, Rio Casa, Xiscapia...

This meeting room had held Xiscapia's own ambassadors, political, economic and military leaders, as well as any number of foreign ones for a variety of reasons. The main furnishing of the room was a long, slate-gray table with plush, high-backed wooden chairs arranged with enough room for two dozen people around it, each with an ashtray, a cup holder and a computer access panel in front of it, and a small projecting device in the middle for conferences that required visual aide. The thick gray walls appeared to slope from the bottom up, almost giving the appearance that the area was under assault by waves of steel, with small silver rings near the top that held Guilda energy crystals to give light. The room was cool, around sixty degrees, as most kitsune preferred it, and servants were waiting out of sight to attend to the every need of the guests.
However, most of those conferring there today were not present.

Of the five Xiscapians meeting there, only two were actually present. The first was a Vulpes Vulpes, one of the 'Changed', a female with white-hued fur, a youthful form (as far as one could tell on an alien) and startling green eyes, wearing a cap and the traditional blue and black laced with silver uniform of an Xiscapian Grand Admiral. Krystal had been the Grand Admiral from since before the end of the Korr War, and she had coordinated the conflict or fought against every naval enemy the Kitsune Empire had ever known. Korr, Calaverians, Imitators, Greali, the SASM, Rebels, pirates, Kewen, and now Danaversians; and she had won against them all. Gone was the young (too young?), naive, uncertain kit she had once been, now replaced by this weary, battle-hardened, bent-but-not-broken kitsune. She looked around at her colleagues, thinking. We're all so old.

The other who graced the room with their presence was none other than Air Marshal Carth (http://media.photobucket.com/image/male%20kitsune/Jnhogge/anime/777a.jpg?o=). He was almost infuriatingly casual, giving off the vibe that he would like to put his feet up on the table, and was only stopping himself from doing so was because the attractive female servants would give him dirty looks. As it was he had his hands behind his head, resting it there, a cigarette dangling between his lips, giving off a faint but nevertheless stomach-turning scent of burning tobacco. Despite his flaws, Carth was indisputably the best fighter pilot in all of the Xiscapian Imperial Navy, and he knew it.

The other three were holograms, broad casted from their respective offices: Dominique (http://nomad.artspots.com/image/5033/pax-vulpicana), or Dom as he was known, was an icy kitsune who had supplied the Joint Division with their armor and ordered the construction of many deadly weapons is use or to be used by the Xiscapian Grand Army. He had been in command longer than any of them, and while most of it had been spent combating the Korr, he was confident he and his well-equipped, highly-trained soldiers could crush any enemy ground units. The old fox had learned new tricks.

Holly (http://meadow9.deviantart.com/art/Soldier-coloured-78235016), Commander of the Mechanized Division, had seen little action since she first took control of the branch a decade ago, but nevertheless kept her troops fit and ready and continually modified her personal Light Assault Mecha, the Algernon. She had been responsible for building on the concepts of the Light and Heavy Assault Mechas to produce the Super and Command Mecha walkers, towering behemoths that were really mobile weapons platforms.

And Robs (http://www.mocpages.com/user_thumbnails/neodragonm@yahoo.com/www.naruto-world.com_episode18_naruto18-151.jpg_SPLASH.jpg), Commander of the sinister league of assassins, spies and special and black ops units known as the Shadow Ops, and the Director of the Xiscapian Internal Affairs department, or the XIA. He was mechanical and ruthless, assets when one worked as he did, and the history of his organization, the identities of those who were members, and his own personal life and ways were all unknowns. Even his name was undoubtedly an alias.

So these five, the Master General, the Grand Admiral, the Air Marshal, the Mechanized Commander and the Director met to discuss the changes that were to be made to the Kitsune Imperial Military.

"First on the agenda," Dom started on business immediately, with the war on time was precious, and they needed no introductions to each other, "the construction of the Alliance class Supercapital ship."

"Super Battleship," Krystal cut in.

"Indeed," Dom looked at her. "Do we have the resources for such a thing? As I recall, the Alversian class Star Dreadnought took over a year to build..."

"We have the resources," Krystal said steadily, "and the workforce. If the Danaversians or the Booleans attack one of the outer systems, we'll need a fleet-killer to defend it effectively. The Battle of Wuin might have been a victory, but we lost two ships, and if the Danaversians came in twice the numbers they actually did, we might have lost the whole fleet. And they haven't even sent any Marlins against us yet..." She let that hang.

"How long until the ship is ready to go?" asked Carth.

"Inside of eighteen months," Krystal answered.

There was a short silence.

"Next on the agenda," Dom glanced down to the computer readout, "the integration of Mechanized and Army units."

Holly looked up, licking her lips. "Ten years was plenty long enough to wait," she muttered.

"The four and a half million Mechanized Division personnel will be joining the XGA as of next week, as has been planned," said Dom in a clipped tone. "Are the kitsune under your command ready for it?"

"Yes." Holly looked at him, supremely confident. "We've been preparing for months. I will still be in command of my troops, yes?"

"Of course," Dom nodded. "The only change is that you now report to me, rather than the Emperor."

The integration had been talked about and planned for years, and the deadline was fast approaching. At first the uniqueness of the mecha set them a class apart from the standard infantry unit, and it was thought they should have a branch of their own. However, they worked excellently when supporting pretty much any unit, on the ground, in the air or in space, so they were to be folded into the Xiscapian Grand Army to make logistics easier. The sense of mechanized independence was waning, the Mechanized Units and the XGA had been working together since the inception of the mecha, and most pilots were just relieved to be able to request direct support and benefit from the funding the XGA enjoyed.

"This next item involves you, Air Marshal," Dom managed to look respectful and still convey his distaste at the same time when he stared at Carth, who easily blew a smoke ring. "Shoot," he tapped the ashes from his smoke into the tray.

OOC- Just a quick reference for you guys regaurding Belkan ships and hardwear. I'm not the only one with links, Xis.

http://www.nswiki.net/index.php?title=Myrkul_class_battleship
http://www.nswiki.net/index.php?title=Achilles_class_heavy_cruiser
http://www.nswiki.net/index.php?title=Suiseiseki_class_light_cruiser
http://www.nswiki.net/index.php?title=Trondheim_class_destroyer
http://www.nswiki.net/index.php?title=Kusanagi_class_frigate

The Belkan-exclusive Mundus Class battleship is not linked, because the brains behind the Hermes Alliance hasnt rendered it yet.

Miller, Improvised HQ

Green continued to blaze away, but no more smiles accompanied his actions. Occasionally, a few grunts would be heard over the intercom, but that was it.
He knew the tactical situation. What was taking so long?

Miller, Vanguard

The troops who had made the charge scattered back in bloody dissaray, the tactical mistake which had sent them forward making them angry and shaken. Returning to whatever cover they could find, they started to engage the Danaversians with longer range weapons and whatever heavy firepower they could bring to bear. Snipers plied their deadly trade as rockets banged out at enemy heavy weapon nests.
They didn't have much time, and some had been wasted with the assault. They needed to clear out the building, and fast.

Tenfour

Maxellian smiled in slightly bemused amusement as the Korr did their coffee song. He walked towards the cream stand with the Empress.
"It was...impressive. I don't think I had ever imagined seeing something quite like that." He added a small amount of sugar, but no cream; long years of drinking black coffee in the field had made him appreciate it that much more. He took a sip and smiled.
"Excellent. No doubt we will want to ship some in to Setulan once trade settles down some."

Improvised HQ, Miller

The Alversians stayed under cover as the bombardment continued to rain down, blowing up great mounds of earth and raining down upon cowering troops. There was nothing else they could do, the Danaversians and Booleans were not advancing and staying in cover beyond need was suicide. They would be slaughtered. The shells were falling more accurately and it was obvious that the Booleans had brought in some more guns to replace those knocked out between the Heavy Gunners and Green. This time though, there was nothing that neither the Heavy Gunners nor Green could do. They were pinned by the longer range artillery and would soon be torn apart at close range by either the closer guns or by a second assualt. The troops were too badly pinned to stop such an event, forced down by the shrapnel and explosions that could gut an entire Platoon if they weren't careful.

Then a roar came from beyond the hedges, a blood-curdling scream that was clearly audible even over the deep thumps of artillery and the screams of explosions. It was the scream of an attack. As if to confirm this assumption, hundreds of Danaversians burst from the hedges like some demonic horde bursting from the gates of hell. They chanted as they ran up towards the hill, ready to overwhelm the thin lines of the Defenders. They moved forward quickly, anticipating the assualt, the delight of the attack, the blood and sweat at close range, the delight of seeing the fear in the enemy's eyes as death approaches. It was what Danaversians fought for. And this time, that damned Alversian rifle fire would not be present, all they really had to fight were the bayonets, sabres and katanas of the Defenders. Those would be nothing. This battle was won.

The Corporal crouched in his foxhole and wished the bombardment would end. He peered over the edge of his cover, wiping away the mud from his visor as he peered at the advancing enemy, knowing that he could not call for his troops to stand as he had done before. The shells were too accurate, to stand and fire was to invite a slaughter from the all too good Boolean Gunners. He had to have a grudging respect for their effeciency and currant damage. He sighed and gripped his rifle, he would kill at least one of them and pray that he died well.

Then the bombardment stopped. The screams and rumbling explosions suddenly left the field of battle as if blown away on the wind. The Danaversian attack stopped dead. They looked to one another in confusion. Where had their mighty bombardment gone? The one that was going to help them roll over this pathetic defence?

Even as they thought of it though, a call came from the top of the hill, one that even they could hear, for the Alversian Corporal seemed too nervous to use his vox,
"Stand!" He called, "Setting One!" He waited until every man was ready, then drew breath for the command,

"Fire!"

The same situation, the same result, the Danaversians were carved apart by superior rifle fire from the Alversians, forcing the Danaversians who did join their dead from the first attack back into the cover of the hill. The silence that reigned over the battle sounded unnatural after the chaos of the fight. In the silence, men began to check their weapons, ensuring they would be ready for the next attack.

The Corporal ran up past his own men, offering words of encouragement or laughing at a joke, before reaching the Commanding position where Dui and Green were based. He offered a salute,
"Corporal Baines, Ma'am, Sir," He said, panting for breath, "I think we've beaten them off for a while. I wonder why the Booleans stopped firing?"

Miller, Duel

The reason for the withdrawal was simple. The Boolean nodded in understandment and accepted the hand offered by the Xiscapian Mech. Once the defeated party was up on two feet again. He gave a grating laugh,
"Our honour has been restored. As has yours. We shall honour our agreement. Our troops shall withdraw from battle and allow your noble soldiers to retreat. I hope that we meet again, Hand of Judgement" With that, the two Mechs shot off into the air.

A quick word later and all Booleans, be they the Soldiers pursuing the Coalition Troops, fighting in space, or pinning down the HQ Garrison, broke off from combat and retreated out of the combat zone, honouring their pact and allowing the Coalition to withdraw. They had that honour. The Danaversians were not so caring, however.

Miller, Vanguard

Saan waited patiently until the Grenadiers were moving up from the rear of the column, watching the Xiscapian Snipers cleared away the Danaversians from the windows, driving away those who had caused so much damage to the advancing troops. He looked at the building, checking out the doorway which was filled with Setulan dead. He gave a heavy sigh. He had watched the retreating Setulan troops with a combination of dispair and anger. He had given the command to the damn man to push through as quickly as possible, not attack like someone who had a suicide wish. He did not blame the Major, for he did not have the authourity. But it was still concerning that he had been so reckless. He could not see the Brigade Commander, but he'd tear him a new strip for such a poor show.

He turned in time to see his own Grenadiers moving forwards in a column, led by their Major, a tall and powerful Kitsune who seemed to bulge out of his armour. He was the example of the Grenadier Company, tall, powerful and muscled troops who were the frontline of any assualt, the Kitsune who packed the biggest punch in the Battalion. His name was Major Benn. He knew how to take a building. Especially from Danaversians.

"Major," Saan nodded and recieved a stiff salute, "Big building. Maybe four hundred Dans, all in defensive positions. Up to it?" He hadn't looked at the Major who, in turn, didn't look at him as he answered,
"Does an Alumina like milk?" he gave a rough laugh and looked over at his troops,
"C'mon Boys! Dans need filleting! Kitties need something to chew on!" He looked at the Marine Rocket Troops, "You boys keep up? Or has the Imperial Army turned you all soft?" He laughed again and drew his katana in one hand and a pistol in the other,
"No matter, soon toughen you up. Forward!" he yelled it at the top of his voice as he scrambled over the rubble that was protecting the rest of the column. He was joined seconds later by the rest of his Company, running as fast as their legs would carry them, screaming at the top of their lungs, a combination of their anger, frustration and fear letting itself out. They ran with bayonets drawn, waiting for the machine guns to open up and cut then all down. But they couldn't. The Gunners were suffering under the Xiscapian fire and had no chance to fire more than one shot. As a result, the Grenadiers lost only a half dozen people killed or wounded while charging past their Setulan Allies, the remains of whom still lay scattered in front of the building.

Soon they were at the building. The Grenadiers did not enter though, but hugged the wall, keeping out of sight from within, allowing the protected Danaversians to waste their fire on the walls and the empty windows. Benn waited until a small pause before nodding to his Xiscapian Gunners,
"Do it" He growled.

The Kitsune nodded and took a deep steadying breath before twisting into the doorway, levelling their launchers as they did so. The Danaversian fire instantly killed a pair of the Missile Launchers, but the others were able to fire into the cramped room, filled with Danaversians ducking behind their rubble barricade. However, against the rockets, it offered minimal protection. As soon as the explosions had gone off, filling the room with choking dust and debris, disabling even the sensors on the Alversian helmets. Regardless, the Kitsune screamed and charged into the maelstrom. Captain Benn was the first in, blasting his pistol at the first shape that emerged from the dust. Blaster bolts flew randomly into the air hitting the roof, floor and walls. Some Kitsune were plucked back by this panicked and random fire. Then they were amongst them and the Kitsune could pay back the Danaversians for all the anger and pain during this retreat, now the bayonets could go to work. Stabbing, cutting, parrying and slashing. It was hard and choatic work, where one might not even see the person who made the final move. It took a while for the superior number of Grenadiers to tell, but after a few minutes of fierce, bloody combat, the first floor was theirs.
After that, it was a simple matter of moving up through the floors, throwing grenades and firing rockets into every room. In no time at all, the building was clear. An Alversian flag on the top floor confirming it.

"Time to move," Saan said to the Xiscapian Major, the relief evident in hs voice, "Deploy a Skirmish line forward of the Vanguard, two dozen should do. The Grenadiers will deploy behind you soon. If you have any questions, talk to Colonel Jadar. He's on his way to take command of the Vanguard."
Saan couldn't wait for the Major though, as he recieved an urgent message from the Rearguard. He was needed elsewhere. He was certainly earning his pay today,
"You know what to do," He smiled, "The Colonel will be here soon."

He spared a look of sympathy for the Setulan troops that they had been displaced, but Officer's imcompetenance was not his fault. He had to fight through this city. Hurt feelings could be sorted out later.

With that, he had to run again, back through the troops, towards the Rearguard. He hoped it wasn't so serious.

Lune, Xiscapia

"Oh?" Emma smiled at the obvious distress of her collegue, noting his ever betraying tail as it flicked and twirled and generally showed his embarresment. She did not let the embarressed Kitsune stew for long before she decided to tell him what she knew, what she had been told in rumours,
"There were...rumours," She decided to be blunt, "Of a meeting with an alien Captain...I was wondering...if it was...true." She finished, her own cheeks flushing a little red and her own tail betraying her emotion.

Alversian Space

Reynolds watched from his bridge as the Belkan and Alversian fleets tore into the Danaversians with a professional and relentless force. The crossfire from the smaller ships drove the Danaversians into a smaller and smaller space as the Danaversians attempted to move out of the range of CDPD batteries and seismic charges being fired by these Cruisers and Destroyers. This made them a perfect target for the Battleships and Battlecruisers of the Alvo/Belkaran fleet.

The result was that the area in front and to the sides of the Danaversian fleet was filled with ruined ships, destroyed bulks that had once been a part of the frontlien but had suffered under the weapons of both fleets. Not that the Alversians had not suffered counterfire, though it was minimal, merely two Cruisers disabled and a Destroyer that had been forced to withdraw due to battle damage. This was the most powerful fleet yet assembled by the Danaversians, it included numerous Marlins but even these Superships were powerless against the weaponry arrayed against them. It would be a short battle, one that was totally one-sided.

Reynolds smiled at it, the Danaversians had come at him in the same way they always had done, throwing hundreds and hundreds of ships at the thin Alversian lines and hoping that weight of numbers would bludgeon their way through. As always, the attack was stalling. It was an obvious tactic, but one that countless Danaversian Admirals seemed unable to cope with. This would be another defeat, of course it would be. As soon as the forward momentum was lost, the attack would stutter and collapse. The Captains at the rear of the formation would decide that they didn't fancy facing the guns and would withdraw. It would be too easy. Cavourna and Bartlett were keeping the other parts of the fleet in one piece. They would too. This was not the hardest part of the war, this was merely a probing assualt. The biggest attacks were soon come.
He needed everything he had.

The Boolean attacks were also contributing to the destruction of the Danaversians, a Danaversian fleet that was still moving forward into the killing field, too stubborn to withdraw.

Aldi City, Ferra

Ferra had its problems. That much was obvious. Ferra was not a large planet. It did not benefit from a large population nor from high birthrates. It consisted of just one continent, half of the planet was deep blue water and filled with all the wildlife one would expect. There were a few big cities yet the one continent was filled with life and variety, from great sweeping plains to deep, dark forests and tall, rocky mountains. It was an attractive planet but not large. It had plenty of resources though. However.

Ferra was not a wealthy planet. It did not have the financial reserves of many neighbouring planets. It had the resources available, like a goldmine lying unused in the ground. It certainly had the potential to mine these resources and gain the money to do the people a great service. Despite this potential, the people were not rich. Far from it in fact. There were cities, but the majority of the population lived as their ancestors had done before them. They lived in their small hamlets, small houses with farms that were tended by generations of the same family. The only difference from three hundred years ago was that space craft sometimes flew overhead, and the Villiagers no longer pointed and screamed of witchcraft.

Ferra really had nothing, it was not large, it was not rich and it did not have influence. It could not even claim to be a fair society. Ferra was ruled by the Underworld, it's own Underworld. The Mobsters. In the city of Aldi, where the shanty towns stretched into the distance and were only broken up by the skyscrapers built with blood money. Aldi was the home of the Mob. Where law and crime were the same thing, where the Police could be bought for the same price as a loaf of bread, where a man stayed alive by keeping his head down and smoking whatever profited the Government's 'Outreach' program most. This was Ferra, an ugly contrast of rich and poor, where a sense of justice stretched only as far as the bank. This was Ferra's problem. It was the rotting core of the Sector. And President-for-Life Ma-tan knew this all too well.

Ma-tan was a unique PFL in Ferra's history for while he shared many traits with his predeccors, he was also different. Yes, he was the Don the Mob and yes, his concern for the people only stretched as far as wondering how much money he could fleece off them to fatten his own retirement purse. What was different was ambition. Ferra was not rich. Nor did it have power. It was a laughing stock. Not even the Alversians would touch it, for to remove the Mob from the Government, one would have to start from the bottom. They were one and the same. No escaping it. But Ma-tan wanted an Empire, he wanted Ferra to be threat in the Sector. He wanted wealth, he wanted power and, most importantly, he wanted fame. He was smart enough to know that these things did not come cheap and sometimes it meant selling one's soul to the Devil.

Ma-tan was about to flog his planet's soul to the highest Bidder.

On reflection, it was not a bad deal as he walked along the Eel-like Being in his Presidential Palace. The war with the Danaversians had been going on for some time now and it looked, to Ma-tan anyway, like the Coalition was crumbling. Maybe not officially nor personally, but the campaigns across the Sector were inflicting a terrible drain on their resources, small Navies stretched periliously thin, trying to engage an enemy many times their size and strength. The news was that Miller had fallen, an attack on Havalia had been easily repelled and that Pamp had been taken with little difficulty. These were not the actions of a losing side. Alversia could not be long in falling and when it did, Ma-tan wanted Ferra to get her share of the prize.

The Danaversian Diplomat had worried him at first. He had had a small smile on his face, a sneaky smile, a smile that suggested a quiet confidence and kept him on edge. In the end though, he had been most agreeable and sympathetic. His requests were also more than reasonable, considering the size of one Superpower talking to the Arse of the Sector. Obviously, the Navy had to be grounded. That was fair enough, the Ferran Navy had always been pro-Coalition, admitted by it's Chief Marshall only days ago when the Mob had discussed it's options. He had been marked for removal but had fled before the Hitmen could get near him. Now protection was provided by Danaversian warships and Ma-Tan felt much safer with them than his own Navy.

The second Request was to allow a build-up of Danaversian troops and ships on the planet's surface. One reason was to build up a Force behind Alversia's main defensive lines and to hit their Homeworld where they least expected it. The force would number millions and no troops would stand against them. There was only a 100,000 strong garrison on the planet at the moment, though Ma-Tan was confident that the Ferran Army, gutter fighters all of them, would perform more than adequetely against any invasion. Alversian Infantry were almost universally feared by his Senior Advisors and, for the life of him, The President could not see why. They were Mortal, like all Beings, so why worry about them? Some measure of fear perhaps, but not on his home patch. Here, they could be slaughtered. Coax had assured him so. So it would be.

Ferra was going to war.

APHQ, Illesia City, Alversia

"You are sure these scans are accurate?"

Ashley Reyes, Commander in Chief of the Alversian People's Navy, one of the most powerful women in the Republic and now one of the most stressed, asked her Assistant again, hoping against hope that she had misheard and misread the charts. But no, they were correct, they showed her worst fears. There were Danaversians in the Alversian Sector.

"As you can see," She sighed, looking at the various Commanders, all leaders of the various Services with the People's Armed Forces, "This recent metoerogical scan displays the signatures of Danaversian warships, thirty of them. At Ferra."

There was more than one person who swore in frustration at the news. It was like trying to fill a rusting bucket. As soon as one leak was fixed, another sprang up to bite them in the ass. But they were professionals and they had a job to do.

So they sat down and started to plan what needed to be done about the Ferran problem.

"So, what have we got to deal with Ferra?" The Chairman of this small meeting asked, looking first to Field Marshall Davidson, commander of the People's Army, tall, powerful, with rough hands and a scarred face from a lifetime of Soldiering. From a Private in the 102nd Battalion right up to commanding the 1st Battalion of the Colstream Guards. He was now the leader of the Army with a hard attitude and a healthy dislike of all things Danaversian.

He frowned,
"If you can give me a few hours, I'll give you 12 Battalions. Give me a few days, I'll give you 22 Battalions, the Colsteamers and a couple of Guard Units." He saw the others trying to work out the numbers, "It's about 110,000 men. We'll dispatch the Exiles of Ferra along with a few Guards Battalions and perhaps one of the Kitsune units. The Dan bastards won't stand a chance."
He said it with a snarl, showing exactly what he thought of the Danaversians.

"Okay, so we'll have them. We'll be outnumbered by the Dan/Ferran Army but We should be able to manage it." The Senator nodded, he looked to Ashe then and sighed, "What have we got to defeat the orbiting fleet?"

"Nothing," Ashe shook her head, smiling without humour at the looks from the other Chief's of Staff, "All our fleets are busy either in battle or garrisoning planets. All I can give you is Rio Jones' fleet."
"You mean the Deep Space Fleet?" Claire Roberts, commander of the Army Air Force, summed it up. The Deep Space fleet was meant solely for exploration and diplomacy. It was made up of Heavy Cruisers alone, there were no other Capital ships.

"I'm afraid so," Ashe shrugged, "I might be able to give you a part of the V Fleet over Macronia and might stretch to a Rapier-Class Carrier, but that is it." She gave another sad smile, "We're stretched a bit thinly."

"So we need assistance from the Coalition?" The Senator asked, summoning it up in one sentence.

Ashley laughed, "That is what Coalitions are for."

Bridge of Mundus' Spear

Horan viewed his holoscreen readouts and continued to direct his forces. The battle seemed all but won, and the stealth MS forces were yet to be deployed. They would hold position, for now. Losses had been minimal, with only four ships floating lifelessly after the Danaversian barrage, with another damaged to the point of withdrawing. His deployed suits had taken casualties, but the numbers were still well within the optimum operational parameters. Usually, the aged admiral would have been quite content with the situation, but something seemed... amiss.

Miller, Improvised HQ...

"Don't ask questions, Corporal," Dui mock admonished the Alversian. "Enjoy it while you can, they might just be adjusting their aim." She had added her pistol fire to the energy blasts that had cut down the Danaversian advance, snorting her derision as she carefully took aim and picked off the attackers. The fools had been stupid enough to stop in the middle of an advance merely because their covering fire had gone quiet, and because of that their rapidly cooling corpses now littered the slope, none within twenty-five meters of the thin Alversian line. Now she stared off into the distance, wondering herself why they had ceased fire, and wishing the main force would hurry up and get to them before another attack could be launched.

"If we make it out of here alive, Corporal Baines, I swear on my honor you're getting a promotion and a fat raise," Dui stayed atop the upraised hill, for from here she stood eye-to-eye with the man; if she'd hopped down to his level, he would have towered over her. "You did a damn fine job of keeping than line together." She glanced at Green. "What do you think, Colonel? Directly to Sergeant or up to Captain?" It was, of course, not her decision, and she doubted they would allow Baines to skip an entire rank, but if she had any influence in the APA she would make sure the courageous Corporal was justly rewarded.

Miller, City...

The two LAM also took to the sky, weapons activating once more, hovering over the long mass of kitsune and men that was the 610th Guards and the Joint Division. "Get back to the Rearguard," Blue Three ordered his counterpart, "I'll go see what's happening at the Vanguard, looks like something's cooking."

As the mechanized units split the Missile Troops of the Eighth Marines spread themselves out though the structure, victorious with their Grenadier allies. They had lost only six of their number, five dead from Danaversian fire or blows and one wounded, but had dished out many times that in return, their weapons proving utterly lethal in the closed-in rooms. The whole building was contaminated with the stench of burning flesh and melted armor from the fiery blasts of the fuel-air explosives, the waves of heat and light having cooked many of the enemy inside their armor and fused it into a single piece, entombed in what had protected them in life. Now they overlooked the 610th and the Joint Division as they marched out, some leaning against walls or joking with the Grenadiers, others doing the grisly work of clearing out the bodies and setting up temporary positions. Meanwhile the snipers packed up and kept moving with the rest, always ready if they needed to lay down some accurate fire for their comrades.

"Yes sir!" The Major saluted, but Saan had already turned away. Tuning into his vox, the officer contacted a squad that had proven itself during the fighting. "Corporal Thét, take your troops up on point, activate cloaks and act cam, you're our skirmishers. You'll be supporting a dozen snipers, run 'n gun style, you let us know if you spot any fish and take 'em down from range."

"Aye sir, ready to rock and ruin!"

The twenty-two soldiers pushed past their comrades and allies to some two hundred meters to the front, the snipers cloaking to remain hidden and staying near the back so they would not be exposed to enemy fire while lining up a shot, while the Grunt soldiers fanned out, moving carefully but at a good speed though the rubble, active camouflage making them difficult to see while walking and impossible to detect with the naked eye when still. Corporal Thét was at the very front, rifle held forward, scanning amongst the wreckage with his helmet's sensors, the rest of his kitsune doing the same as they cautiously made their way forward. Thét wanted to be able to get the drop on any Danaversian or Boolean bastards that might be lying in wait to ambush the main force, and at the same time try to minimize casualties: Here, relatively far from the JD and 610th Guards, speed and precision would win the day, to inflict maximum fatalities on their foe while maneuvering to not be outflanked or surrounded. Overhead Blue Three watched with interest, his bird's-eye view not revealing any positions because of the smoke rising from the destroyed city, but at the same time keeping him hidden from any ground observers.

Tenfour, Xiscapia...

"Naturally a trade agreement of some sort is in order," the Empress agreed, daintily partaking in the contents of her own mug, relaxing as she felt the warmth slide into her belly. "But if your border restrictions aren't too tight, I'm sure we could begin shipments of anything the Republic needs immediately. Our merchants and traders are at no risk of being attacked by the Danaversians or Booleans, unless the system they are operating out of is invaded and they are unable to escape. The nature of our FTL drives makes it impossible to intercept or destroy the vessel between it's original point and destination." She smiled softly, dark eyes watching him of the rim of her cup.

Lune, Xiscapia...

"Yes," Ginta admitted finally, shifting again in his seat, tail curling under it as if to try and hid his agitation. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose again, smoothing his hair, almost grooming. "There was a N-K, that is, Neo Kirisubon, starship Captain, working with me on a project during the Londim Incident. We were studying gravity fluctuations on a nearby planet, and Captain Lintel," he smiled, "she was a Captain, then, allowed me to go aboard their ship for further analysis. One thing led to another and..." He shrugged, giving an embarrassed smile. "I never saw her again, after that. I don't even know where she went or what happened to her, I suppose she's still roaming the stars somewhere." He hoped he'd made it clear that there had been nothing between them; just a little pillowing between a lonely scientist and a bored officer.

APHQ, Illesia City, Alversia...

A few minutes later two separate holograms were broadcasted into the Alversian People's Headquarters from the Kitsune Empire, specifically from Xiscapia, one with a transponder marking it Xiscapian Imperial Navy, the other frequency indicating that the user was an officer in the Xiscapian Grand Army. The Naval officer bore the rank of Admiral, and would have shown up in not a few Alversian reports: He was none other than Grand Admiral Krystal's second-in-command, Admiral Sor. The Hispanic-skinned kitsune waited patiently for his counterpart to begin speaking, displaying politeness, not a single black hair out of place. The other was less well known, a tawny colored Vulpes Vulpes clothed in the green uniform of the Army, dull orange eyes moving amongst the assembled Alversians. For a moment neither spoke, waiting for the other to go first, before the second bowed and began to speak.

"I am Major General Genko," his voice was quiet but serious and firm, "in charge of the Tenth Army Division. We have recently been informed of the situation on Ferra, and I, like others, believe this cannot be ignored. The Grand Army will be deploying the Five Hundred Eleventh Grand Army Battalion under Lieutenant Colonel Vin to assist you in destroying the invaders and any Ferran rebels, with a LAM platoon, a HAM platoon, and two Supermecha fighting platforms in support. They will be detached as quickly as possible, but it will take some thirty hours before they are organized and ready to move. I know a thousand soldiers and handful of mechanized units aren't much, but I'm afraid that it's all we can spare for the time being."

Sor bowed now, and spoke also in a hard, all-business tone. "I have received authorization from the Grand Admiral to dispatch a flotilla to Ferra from Old Xiscapia to fight off any Danaversian vessels, provide orbital support and transport ground troops and equipment. A task force consisting of the Observer XIW Freedom, the Asteroid ship XIW Pebble and the Korr Battleship XIW Fury, commanded by Flotilla Captain Gurge, will assist any Coalition forces in destroying or forcing a retreat on the enemy. As with my comrade, it is all we can rout from our current positions, although I assure you they are powerful vessels that should easily be able to take on a Barracuda and come out victorious. Naturally, both the Flotilla Captain and, if I may be so presumptuous to assume, Lieutenant Colonel Vin, will be in contact with APN and APA forces operating in the theatre to coordinate with them."

Conference Room, Imperial Palace, Rio Casa, Xiscapia...

Dom continued speaking in a clipped tone.
"As you know, the unmanned Drone fightercraft has been in service ever since the end of the Calaverian War, over six years ago now. Combat reports have shown that they require a three-to-one ratio over an average enemy force to gain superiority, and given the capacity of our warships, this is simply unacceptable. While they are cheap and durable, they are underarmed, under armoured, inferior to a well-trained pilot and, with the advent of our latest innovation, obsolete."

Carth nodded. This was all true. "Project Procul," he breathed.

"You are all aware of the near disaster that occur ed when a government official tried to steal the documents and sell them to an unknown party," Dom said coolly, not even glancing at Krystal. It had been a Xiscapian from her department that had attempted it, though he had been tracked to Kel and detained by the XIA. She did not look at him either, maintaining a stoic composure. Carth spoke now, excited. "After that incident, we gifted them to the APNAF, who have since implemented the design. After the success of the first prototypes in action over a Danaversian task force and the many future missions the APNAF High Command is drawing up, I believe it would be wise to follow in their footsteps. Do I have the support of the Joint Chiefs of the Kitsune Imperial Military to create units for use in action to replace our current starfighter force?" Carth looked around eagerly.

"Aye," Krystal and Holly echoed each other, while Dom simply nodded and Robs made no movement, but did not display displeasure at the idea.

"How long do you estimate it will take for the first units to become available?" Krystal asked. Her Carriers and facilities would be the ones carrying, servicing, repairing and replacing the new breed of fighters, and naturally she was interested.

Carth, who had overseen the project personally, grinned. "If we can get federal production lines up and running today, the first wing should be done by the end of the week."

"Excellent."

"Now we come to the integration of technology from the so-called 'Triad Corporation'," Dom said the name with distaste. He remembered the days when the government developed and manufactured all military technology, rather than just a few select groups as it was today, and he didn't trust companies producing his weapons for him.

"I hear that Nakamoto Dockyards has already gifted an Obliterator class Observer to the Calaverians," Robs spoke for the first time, his voice raspy. Of course, Robs, being Robs, knew for certain and probably had records of the entire construction and transit of the vessel, but he didn't like to let on that he had such access.

"This is so," Dom nodded. "However, General Caedo is well in charge."

"We have already purchased a number of their products from the individual companies," murmured Krystal, ticking off on her fingers. "The Twilight class Scout ship, the Light Assault Mecha, GIMP projectiles and the Personal Living Quarters units, just to name a few. Finalizing the deal will only make things better for us as a whole, and some of their technology could change to course of the war, or at least give us a fighting chance."

"I believe there is much to be gained from Triad Consolidated," Holly agreed.

"But how do we know they're trustworthy?" Carth asked.

"We keep tabs on them," Robs said simply, and no one said anything further. If the head of the XIA said he knew about their dealings, he knew about them.

"It will be...expensive." Dom frowned, looking down at his computer. "The prices for some of their most destructive technology is considerable."

"I'm sure they will give the government incentives," said Krystal dryly.

"It's settled then," Holly smiled, scrolling down a list of products. "We will buy their equipment?"

"The budgets will be re figured to reflect it," Dom nodded, relenting. "However, we shall spend conservatively, at least initially."

"As you wish."

"Say, what's this?" Carth jabbed a finger at his agenda. "Twenty-five percent incorporation of android soldiers!?"

"Ah, yes." Dom smiled, but there was no humor in his eyes. "While the exact deadline is to be determined at the moment, the XGA and XIN will experience an influx of artificial soldiers in under a year. They have already been extensively used by the XSO and a few have found their way onto the black market, where I believe several at in the hands of the Syndicate and, in the past, rebel and anarchist factions. They have preformed exceptionally well in the field, and the benefits of the automation need not be mentioned, as they have been repeatedly reported and capitalized on, aside from the fact that I have included them in your notes. This extends to all services, which includes the Marines, starship crews, ground operators, infantry soldiers, mechanized pilots and drivers, MP, support operatives and others."

"Master General, with all due respect, have you considered the implications such a transition might have? On the cost, the logistics efforts and maintenance?" Holly asked.

"Not to mention public reaction, Coalition reaction, and the effects on the morale of your average trooper," Krystal added.

"Of course I have reviewed all those factors," Dom said smoothly, looking at every one of his colleagues in turn. "It will be costly and long, and we will need vast resources in propaganda and PR so these units will be viewed in a positive light, but I am confident that the benefits, both short and long term, outweigh the immediate problems. Commander Robs can vouch for the androids."

Robs merely nodded.

There was silence.

"I see the advantages," Krystal said at last. "But I don't much like it."

"Only time will tell whether this was a wise decision," said Holly softly. "I think my troops will react favorably; however, I cannot think to downplay the other issues."

"You are correct," Dom nodded, "in time we will see. On a small scale, they have preformed beautifully, and the implantation will save trillions of credits and many lives."

"Very well." Krystal sighed reluctantly. "What is the next item to discus...?"

Miller, Improvised HQ

Green only arched an unseen eyebrow at Dui. He didn't know Alversian rank structure, and it wasn't his place to say regardless. He was already thinking of the troube he would no doubt get in after this mess when he got back to Supreme HQ. Possibly even relief, though he doubted that.
"I'm sure we'll find something, Colonel. In the meantime, how bout you stay down for now?" Green was not at all happy with the situation. Yes, the Booleans had stopped firing. However, he knew one of the favorite tactics of Setulan heavy artillery was to cease fire, let the enemy return to their positions...and then open up for a second barrage when nobody was in cover.
"In the meantime..." he fed a new belt of ammunition into the heavy weapon he carried without looking, instead searching for some of the Joint Division troops.
"Sergeant!" The Setulan ran over and dove into cover with the others. It was slightly crowded at the moment.
"Sir?"
"Status."
"I came here with ten men, sir. I'll be leaving with six." Green grimaced but nodded.
"Very well. Get back to them."
"Hooah."
He jumped up and bounded back to his place of cover. Green finally smiled at the Alversian.
"You are a ballsy son of a bitch, Corporal. I'll see what I can do from my end."

Miller, Joint Division

The Setulan troops breathed a sigh of relief as the LAM hovered overhead. Though the Republicans were elite light infantry, any foot soldier who said they didn't like the idea of heavy support was lying. Moving proffesionally once more, they advanced with the Xiscapians.
Anger was the predominant emotion now. Not at the Danaversians, though that was of course there, but rather at their own commander. The charge across the open had cost an even dozen men killed and twice that number wounded, two severely. Rage might even be a better term, but the result was the same. Along the line, officers gave silent vows to themselves-the Brigade commander wouldn't last.

APHQ, Illesia City, Alversia

Another hologram flickered into life in time for Theater General Durmel to hear what the Xiscapian said. The senior officer had been woken up an hour earlier and rushed to the HQ so he could attend the impromptu meeting.
Well, at least I got two hours of sleep.
"Gentlemen and ladies, I won't repeat what has already been said. We are willing to dispatch 7th Army Group to the theater...though it will take time to assemble the neccessary forces. The 7th consists of the 99th, 111th, and 368th Heavy divisions, as well as four wings of bombers and six of fighters. So far as the space battle, we can send what remains of Eternal Pain
to the theater as soon as you like, but it will take more time to ready the rest of the forces."

Tenfour

Marchamp sat back.
"I am glad to hear it. In that case, upon finishing here, I will make the neccessary arrangements. We need some idea of what is going to be coming to our market, of course." He said it with a wry smile. That was a prize understatement.
"We might wish to brief members of our merchant shipping, however. Just as in Xiscapia, there are some customs and laws that may seem strange to outsiders. Primarily those regarding crime." Marchamp wondered how to say this delicately. "I do not mean to imply that Xiscapians are any more criminal then any other, only that justice is often harsh on Setulan."

The Fist, Setulan Prime, Setulan System

The brass gathered around the table in consternation, puzzling what to do with the situation laid out in front of them.
"Townsend is cut off and surrounded. The Dans have orbital control, and there is nothing we can do to break that right now until we can find an effective countermeasure to the Boolean energy drain."
"How long will he last?"
"We don't know. Worst case scenario, two weeks. In that case, they all die and run out of food. Best case? Maybe six months. Maybe. We just have to hope that the Dans aren't in that much of a hurry to finish them off."
"Why wouldn't they be?"
"We can hurt them, and badly. Initial enemy casualty estimates range up to the hundred thousand mark. Not that significant a number considering the size of their host, but still a lot of dead amphibians."
The conversation went from different points of the table, no man speaking twice. The feeling was terse, tense, but highly proffessional. This was their job.
"We can't let them have Colony 2. Under no circumstances may they keep it. Agreed?" Heads nodded around the table.
"That would knock out our second Colony. We can't afford to let them do that."
"When we go, we go all the way. Multiple Army Groups. Multi-Task Force. We get there, and we smash them like pulp."
"What kind of support can we expect from the Coallition?" A wry snort.
"Not much right now. The Alversians are still mobilizing, the Xiscapians are spread too thin, and the Greali just got their asses handed to them. They might even be knocked out of the war. The Belkans are an unknown variable. Frankly, we don't know who the hell they are or where they even came from. This is, of course, disregarding the new front about to open on Ferra." Muffled curses.
"Hope isn't lost yet, gentlemen. We need to come up with something, and we have time. Let's get to work."
"Yes."
The best military minds on Setulan started to plan.

Belka, Belkaros
Emperor Julius Mundus XVI stood on the podium overlooking Mundus square, as his predecessors had done for millenia. Behind him, holorecordings of burning Danaversian ships, Belkan mobile suits flying triumphantly over them, a pristine Belkan fleet in the distance, flashed on screens behind him. The crowd had gathered three stories below him, thronged together to hear their leader speak. The images had been falsified, but the people did not know this. Mundus raised his hands to silence the crowd, and spoke.
"Salvete Omines. Nomen mihi est Julius Mundus, your emperor. I come before you with great news. We have drawn first blood against the Danaversian menace! Against vastly superior numbers, the Danaversians fell like cattle before our supeior forces. Do not be fooled, good people, the war has just begun, and soon I will be asking you to lend Belkaros your sons, your daughters, and your hard earned credits. I do not do this lightly, rather, I do it for the good of all of us! We will add new worlds and entire systems to our Empire, and our might will grow. Though the blood price may be steep, the payout will be glory immeasurable. Go now, people of Belkaros. Go now and work. For our soldiers; your brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers. Via Belka Prospero! Long live the Imperium of Belkaros!"

With that, he stepped off the balcony back into the palace. Part of him resented selling his own imperialism to his people, but he knew it was necessary. More than new territory was at stake. The survival of several societies depended on the outcome of this war, and he would do everything in his power to make sure the outcome was in Belkaros' favor.

Miller, Improvised Command Post

“Thank you Sir, Ma’am,” Corporal Baines laughed then saluted both Officers and headed back down to his own men. He had never intended to become a hero like he had done, he had never intended to take command of the whole Platoon like he had done, but it had sort of happened. He had seen how the other soldiers had been panicking under the bombardment and he had seen how they were not going to be able to resist another attack. He supposed he had suddenly had an image in his head on what he was going to do, then gone and done it. The result, he had taken command of the Platoon, the fifty men, or rather twenty-three men who were still in fighting condition.

He was unsure whether or not he should be in command of so many men when, in fact he was only a Corporal and an inexperienced one as well, He had just graduated at the same time as his comrades. He had done the same training as them, with only a few additional weeks for his NCO training, where he had built on his natural instinct of leadership and worked with fellow Officers on how to command in the heat of battle. One of those was the platoon’s Commander and only Commissioned Officer, Lieutenant Carrington. In the battle itself, he had been with his Unit, keeping the five men steady, making sure that every one of them was ready to repel an assault from the Booleans and Danaversians when the Lieutenant’s vox had gone quiet. Not only that but he gathered from the communications from the other Units that both Sergeants had been wounded as well, effectively making the Platoon leaderless. True, there were two Colonels further up the hill but they were not tuned in on the Alversian frequency and besides, in the heat of a bombardment like the one they had faced, a mere voice would not be enough to restore order.

In the standard Alversian battle line, orders dictated that the most senior Soldier took command of the Platoon should the Commanding Officer and his Seconds be killed or incapacitated. However, all of the Corporals had graduated from training at the same time and none had the courage to step forward and take immediate command of the defence. None wanted to be seen commanding a failure, the Platoon that panicked. However, Baines had seen what needed to be done, his father had been in the Army, he had fought the Danaversians before and stories of his courage filled the young man’s heart with strength as he ran from cover to cover to rally his troops. When he was done, he was in command. And so it seemed it would last until at least the battle was over. After it was over. Who knew? He might be supplemented by another Lieutenant coming out from the 103rd’s Barracks or from another Battalion. However, what he hoped was, pending good words put in for him from the two Colonels and his fellow NCOs, that he might be given the Platoon to command permanently. Well, what was left of it. He liked the sound of that, Lieutenant Baines. Of course, that would only be the start. If this war dragged on and the 103rd was placed into more action, then the chance of more promotion came up. After all, his father had started the last war as a Lieutenant and finished it a Lieutenant Colonel, commanding the 102nd Battalion in the same Regiment. It was a strange place, war.

He settled back into his foxhole, scanning the ruined countryside, wondering why the Booleans didn’t open up again with their mighty bombardment. He was also wondering why the Danaversians didn’t assault again. There was a rumour, of course, that Danaversians feared only two things on a battlefield, the fire from Alversian rifles and the steel from Alversian bayonets and he supposed they were being cautious. Even so, it always helped to be prepared.

He was wondering why they weren’t attacking. He supposed they were preparing for the next attack. So he supposed he had better work on his own defence. He had a new idea though, one that would help redress the balance for the Coalition at least in the short term. To his left, just beyond the furthest Coalition position, he could see bushes that had not been hit by the Boolean fire and where still standing. It was a large collection of hedges, large enough to hide a dozen men safely and he knew, if he could time it right that he could hit the Danaversians were it hurt and break up their next attack.

“You four,” He tapped four guys on the soldier, three standard Infantry and one Heavy Support Troop, “Come with me. Stay down now” He ran back up the hill and around the back of the Setulan positions, giving a quick salute as he did so. The hedge was the one that bordered the field in which the Coalition now sat and he couldn’t believe that they hadn’t thought to use it themselves, but then, they were probably so confident that they thought it pointless. No matter, he had an idea on what he was going to do.

Miller, City

Once the Grenadiers had secured the building, there was little time to bask in their victory or to talk to their Xiscapian friends who taken the building with them. As soon as the troops were moving past again, the Grenadiers were rallied by their Officers, Lieutenants and Captains moving through the floors, calling for their Soldiers to form outside the building and move up to the front again. The Grenadiers, exhausted after the effort of taking the building, combined with the task of holding the rear of the column. Now, of course, they had to run back to the front of the troops, take their place in the Vanguard with the mind of clearing out any signs of the enemy as they attacked. Some within the Company grumbled about their new mission.

They job was not to be here at the front of the Joint Division, to clean up it’s messes, but to protect their own troops, their own Comrades in the Guards Battalion. The fact that they were here meant that the Joint Division’s Vanguard was incapable of doing what was the bread and butter of leading a Column in a retreat. They looked at the Soldiers and saw that their pride had been hurt by the repulse. They had been made to look like Fools both by the Danaversian Defenders and by the Grenadiers themselves who had so easily stormed the building. However, there was little sympathy. The two elements of the Joint Division had come into this campaign with a high reputation from the Kewen war, one of the reasons they were chosen for the rearguard instead of another Alversian Battalion. However, the Alversian Kitsune were not impressed. Their immediate Commander had deserted them in the heat of battle, their Brigade Commander had proven to be incompetent and, while their Soldiers did possess a suicidal bravery, it seemed to be just that, suicidal. Despite Saan’s assurances, the Guards Battalion no longer trusted the Joint Division with their vanguard defence. The fact that the Grenadiers were there showed that lack of trust.

At the front though, just in front of the Skirmish line, there was a gap in the ruined buildings that showed a new threat that had emerged in the desperate retreat from the Frontline. It was something that would make their blood run cold. It was another Danaversian Army.

This one had just completed disembarking from three Troopships that had landed in the fields to the left of the city, just beyond the outskirts and was marching into the city’s suburbs. At a quick count, an experience Soldier would see that there were anything between 10-20,000 Danaversian soldiers streaming into the city from the flank, all fresh, all ready for battle. But then, one would also notice the lack of armour and any form of artillery support for these 20,000 troops that now moved to close off the retreating 15,000 troops, now weakened considerably by the combat losses.

Saan had also seen the landing, in fact, that was what he had been summoned to watch by Colonel Jem at the rear of the column. As he stared through a set of visual scanners, watching the faces of his new tormentors, the Kitsune Lieutenant-Colonel sighed in frustration. Damned Dans weren’t making this easy for him. Far from it. Inside, he was terrified that these new Soldiers would march ahead of him and cut off the two Units as they marched, allowing them to be cut off one by one. He needed to remove that threat, or at least delay it long enough to squeeze his enlarged Command though. As he was thinking about it, Saan thought about what Green or Dui would do, if they were here. He immediately pushed that thought from his mind. They were not here, so he had to do the work of two Colonels. If he had to, then by Qonn, he would do what needed to be done.

“What do you think Saan?” Jem asked, also watching the troops over his shoulder, the reader zoomed in to act as a pair of binoculars.

“I think 16,000 advancing?” Saan guessed, taking into account the numbers, the banners and how many Commanders he could see, “with another 30,000 behind us” He laughed aloud at that. He had said nothing funny but still laughed at the situation regardless. How the hell did he get out of this one?

Colonel Jem was looking at him as if he was mad, while the Light Company’s Snipers continued to ward off the Danaversian screening force, the line rippling every now and then as a shot hit home to fling a Danaversian back and his place was taken by a new Warrior. Then Saan heard a screaming noise from above.

He looked up in time to see a half-dozen Fighters streaming down from orbit, all Danaversian Congor Fighters. He sighed and watched as they began to engage the Mechs above the Column, the Xiscapians being forced to move and engage the Danaversian Fighters. Just as he was wishing for a miracle though, two Alversian Fighters came down as well, following the fighters. However, they left the outnumbered Mechs to fight against the Danaversian air support while they dived down on the pursuing Column. They had obviously been heavily engaged in orbit, for each only had a lone missile each. However, these missiles sent dozens of Danaversians in all directions and blew great holes in the formation, while following strafing runs set to mow down more of the Pursuers. The column had broken up as Danaversians tried to run into cover and stay out of range of the vengeful fighters that where hacking through the vulnerable formation at will. The densely packed formation was gone. In it’s place was a rabble. Even when the Alversian XX-40’s where driven back into orbit by the slow Danaversian AA fire, the legacy of their attack was clear. The Danaversian pursuit force had been torn apart. Not in terms of casualties but all cohesion had been lost, no one was advancing and even the Screening troops were no longer advancing and, in the face of long range Sniper fire that was chewing up their ranks, they withdraw back into the mob.

Saan let out a sigh of relief and resisted the urge to kiss the ground and whoop in joy. The pursuing troops were out of the fight, at least for an hour or so until the Danaversians would drag every soldier back into the road and batter it into a formation of some kind. By the time they started to march, he and his men would be long out of range and to safety. Now all he had to focus on was the Force that was moving to cut him off in front. He turned to watch them now, trying to see where exactly, in the mass of buildings, they would cut him off, or try to cut him off. He saw the variety of rooftops to signal apartments, shopping malls or public buildings. All pretty standard stuff, but he was too far away to really see where they would cut him off. Except, for one area where he could see a lack of buildings, like a square had vanished. He turned to Jem and asked him what he thought of it,

“Collapsed buildings?” He asked his Colonel.

Jem shook his head, “That’s the Martins Plaza. Remember when we were first deployed here? How the Mall at the back held chip shop that we couldn’t keep the lads away from? Sir?” Jem asked in frustration as he saw that Saan wasn’t really listening, but staring at the distant Plaza as if it were talking to him.

“Qonndamnit!” Saan suddenly shouted in triumph and looked over to where the head of his own column was in relation to the plaza, it’s distance away. “Qonn bloody damn it, Jem. You’re a bloody genius” With that, Saan was gone back to the front of the column again, calling into his vox as he did so,

“Joint Division? I need a Marine Battalion and a Rifle one to the front ASAP! I’ll be with you in a moment!”
Saan ran with a new burst of energy. Because he knew how to defeat his new tormentors.

Alversian Space

Reynolds watched idly as the Coalition Navy tore into the attacking Danaversian fleet. He was not an Admiral who encouraged men by shouting at them, but by being quiet, still, by watching every move and rewarding bravery with approval. Ultimately, that was what the Naval Personnel wanted. Victory was sweet of course, and there were few pleasures greater than destroying Barracudas with a single string of missiles but, in the end, all that every Crew member wanted was the approval of Alversia’s greatest living Admiral, a man who was rivalled in history only by the mother of the Navy itself, Marshall Smith. Reynolds had never been defeated in battle against the Danaversians. They had thrown Shoal after Shoal against him and one after another he had been defeated them all. Now he stood and fought against the Danaversians again, which their new Allies by their side, tearing into this hapless fleet that seemed unable or unwilling to withdraw. He did not mind, he was not bloodthirsty by default but he did like to have a total victory, especially against the Danaversians. The floor beneath his feet trembled every now and then as a Danaversian round hit the shields, making them flash angrily before receding back into their non-visible state.

Then a scanner console beeped an alarm to his left. Reynolds did not look but instead waited for the Officer to report it to him. If it was important, then he knew to inform the Admiral. If it was not important then there was no need to trouble a man who was busy in action. However, the Officer spoke a moment later,
“Sir! We have detected a second Shoal three light years away. They are trying to flank us! They’re heading straight for Ferra!” The Alversian seemed stunned by the news as did the rest of the bridge. However, two men remained calm throughout the whole report, they were Admiral Reynolds himself and the commander of the ship itself, Captain Savoy.

“Communications Officer,” Reynolds spoke in the same sort of voice he would use if he were talking about the weather, “Would you please ask Rear-Admiral Cavourna to deploy his ships against that new fleet and ask the Belkarans if They would kindly sent their Mobile Suits to support them? I’m sure they’ll enjoy having a fleet all to themselves.”

So the message was sent:
To: Belkaran Fleet,

Will you kindly redeploy your Mobile suits against the 30 strong Shoal moving behind us? You will be supported by Rear-Admiral Cavourna and his fleet.

At the same time, Cavourna’s Fleet, made up of Heavy Cruisers, Cruisers and Destroyers, turned and flashed into transwarp, intent on taking out the Danaversian fleet from behind.

Lune, Xiscapia

“Oh,” Emma was silent for a while, drinking her tea, enjoying just being in Ginta’s company. He had never noticed her before, not really, while she had often pined for him. It was funny really, she had no limit of boys who had wished to date her when she was younger and now no limit of men who wanted to marry her now that she was older. But she really only had eyes for him, even if he couldn’t see it.
“What do you do away from Science?” She asked curiously, “Do you have any hobbies?”

Illesia City, Alversia

“Thank you to both of you,” The Senator nodded to both sets of Holograms while the other Officers were silent. Ashe was secretly delighted though she didn’t it show. She had been worried that she would have to confront the Danaversian fleet with so little on her own side, mostly Heavy Cruisers. However now, with the contributions from the Setulans and Xiscapians, she knew that it would be easier to take command and smash the Danaversian fleet out of the way.
The Senator was speaking as she thought of this, the other Commanders staying quiet in their own thoughts as the Diplomatic representative spoke for them,
“We have decided between ourselves that the ground Campaign shall begin in four weeks. We shall arrange a more convenient meeting time to plan for this campaign more effectively. However, Grand Admiral Ashe believes that the sooner the ground campaign can begin the better,
The Half-Breed nodded in agreement,
“While the Army may take time to embark and prepare for combat, the Navy does not have such a logistical problem and the sooner that we can clear the Danaversians from orbit, the safer it will be to land troops. We can establish our own presence in orbit and try to discourage them in this manner” It was clear from her voice that she did not believe it would be the case. A ground campaign was what would change the Ferran minds.

“Any thoughts as to when the Commander of the various committed forces can meet with our own Commanders for a briefing?” The Senator asked, “We also think it would be best for our forces to concentrate on our moon of Dela. It will make things easier from a logistical point of view. Any questions?”

Miller, Improvised Command Post...

Dui sighed as she watched Baines jog away. If I had a thousand more like him I wouldn't be worried at all, she thought. The fact of the matter was, Dui was worried, immensely so. She was in a precarious position: Down to half strength of her original guard force, those remaining exhausted and not equipped to withstand a long siege, cut off from both the ships in orbit and the main body of troops, effectively surrounded by enemies, without air or armor support and devoid of PDs to intercept incoming munitions, Dui did not expect the unit to survive for much longer if more assaults were to come. The men were strong and their aim was true (until that Corporal goes down, anyway, she thought dryly), but they didn't have the numbers or the weapons to do anything but hold out for a while longer.

She turned to Green. "Colonel, you know I love and respect you greatly," she smiled at the Setulanite, "and if we fall in battle I want to die beside you on top of a mountain of Danaversian corpses, but if we do get out of this alive, you're gonna be in the middle of a shitstorm so bad you'll need scuba gear. Nobody, not the XGA, not the APA, and I'm certain not your own Army, looks upon desertion of post leniently. I know you did it for a good cause," she grinned, "I'm as good a cause as you'll ever find, but the brass aren't gonna see it that way, and neither will the fifteen thousand soldiers you just left behind. So, you know I'll support you, but it's your ass on the line, and I hope to Qonn you're ready to defend it."

Her eyes looked back to the field, where she saw the Corporal and four of his men dart past, heading for a line of hedges Dui hadn't noticed before. She frowned, eyes tracking them. What is that crazy bastard up to now? She wondered. Forestalling Green for a moment, she flicked the vox button and spoke into it. "Mind enlightening me as to what you're doing, Corporal?"

Miller, City...

The Eigth Marines were unhappy at having been shunted to the middle of the column between the Alversians and Setulanites, where they would see no action unless they were struck in the center. They weren't the ones who had stupidly charged an occupied building, after all, but they were being treated as if they were brain dead nonetheless. All the troops wanted to do now is punch out of the city and go home, and if there's one thing you shouldn't do on a battlefield, it's get between soldiers and their homes.

One of the five Lieutenant Colonels who were left to lead the Eighth Marines stepped up to Saan now, armor covered in dust, ashes and blood, visor pulled down to expose his fox-like visage, rifle cradled in his arms. "Second Battalion reporting for duty, Lieutenant Colonel." He saluted, though they were of equal rank. However, it seemed Saan had become the de facto commander of the whole Coalition Army, and it felt good to salute another kitsune. Behind the LC a thousand Xiscapian Joint Division soldiers were spread out in a loose column formation, waiting for orders. Mostly Grunt troops, there were sniper and missile soldiers here and there among them in their own units, all standing patiently, looking like furry, silver-armored dwarfs amongst the towering Setulanites.

Above it all Blue Three and Four danced with the Conger fighters, twisting and spitting bullets and lasers. "Now, you, sir, have no honor." Blue Four pronounced as he came up on the six of one of the small craft. Originally, LAM had not been made for dogfighting, but it had quickly been found that, with good enough reflexes, they could, both in space and in atmosphere. The mecha were the most versatile asset the Kitsune Imperial Military possessed, and they would prove it here one again.

Lune, Xiscapia...

"Not really," Ginta said, relieved to be away from the topic of his past relationships. "I mean, I enjoy reading, scientific texts and some fiction, and I do like to browse the Holonet, but..." He gave an elaborate shrug. "Science is my whole life, I'm devoted to it. Out of the lab, I'm reading about it, or attending some conference or another about it." He didn't seem to notice he had said nothing about relationships. "I mean, it can be a little lonely sometimes, but there's so much of it I don't stay that way for long!" He smiled. "Especially with my respected colleagues like you, Emma."

Tenfour, Xiscapia...

"Naturally," the Empress smiled softly, "we would expect nothing less. Criminal behavior would be tried on the soil it was committed on; we wouldn't intervene in punishment unless we thought it didn't fit the crime. Would you care to share what law and punishment is like in Setulan?" She planned on giving him a brief overview of what exports they could expect from the Kitsune Empire, and how Xiscapians treated crime, but she wanted to hear the ways of his people first.

Illesia City, Alversia...

“While the Army may take time to embark and prepare for combat, the Navy does not have such a logistical problem and the sooner that we can clear the Danaversians from orbit, the safer it will be to land troops. We can establish our own presence in orbit and try to discourage them in this manner”

Admiral Sor spoke. "I wholeheartedly agree; if we can drive off their fleet, we can prevent supplies and reinforcements from reaching them, and deprive them of orbital support. Our task force will be ready within hours, only the word need be given."

“Any thoughts as to when the Commander of the various committed forces can meet with our own Commanders for a briefing?”

"Flotilla Captain Gurge is standing by for just the occasion," said Sor primly.

"As is Lieutenant Colonel Vin," Genko said, soundly surly and glancing at Sor with something approaching a challenge. Evidently there was competition between the XGA and the XIN.

“We also think it would be best for our forces to concentrate on our moon of Dela. It will make things easier from a logistical point of view. Any questions?”

"The assembly will take place on Dela?" asked Genko before Sor could speak. "Surely our respective commanders could coordinate by holoconference without actually consolidating their forces at a single particular location?"

Alversian Space

The Belkans recieved the orders and relayed them to the mobile suits. Fifteen responded right away and peeled off to aid their allies. Five others, led by the division commander Captain Remus Spaulding, an ace several times over, continued fighting. He fired his beam cannon into the bridge of a nearby Danaversian ship, causing explosions and death within. He waited for the weapon to cycle, and fired again, into the ship's engines, causing more damage. He then formed up with his wingmen, and they drew their beam sabers, slicing deep into the hull of another ship. Air, crewmen and equipment were hurled screaming into the void. They fired their vernier thrusters and rejoined the others.

"All units, form on my six," said Spaulding into his com link. The suits obeyed, assuming a delta formation and reloading their weapons as they prepared to charge the Danaversians.

Miller Improvised HQ

Green only nodded. He had expected as much.
"I imagine the men won't mind all that much," he said wryly. "Though I doubt we'll be able to keep our affair secret much longer. As for the brass, well...we'll see how that turns out. I'm generally good at getting out of shitstorms. Having been personally decorated by Maxellian himself is good for that."
A devil-may-care grin.
"Besides, it was all worth it."
He too watched the corporal running around.
"He's setting up an enfilade on the probable route of the next attack," Green said at once. He had been looking around since the fighting had ended, and was able to pick out the shrubs. "If the dans come back, they'll charge up the hill, and zap! Hit 'em from the side. Risky, though."

Illesia City, Alversia

Durmel frowned slightly; he hadn't really had time for a full debriefing and felt like he was floundering. Regardless, he felt the need to tell of his own troops' status.
"Our fleet elements can move out any time. As a reminder, they are not a particularly large force; if I may suggest, they should be used as a tactical reserve for the initial space battle. 7th Army has been at +4 readiness since the conflict began, which means they can board their transports and head to a warzone in four hours. Just give us a time and place, and we'll take care of the rest. As commander of 7th Army, I can coordinate with anyone you need me too."

Miller City

Another man walked up. Small for Setulan standards, he was still larger than the average Kitsune. His armor was just as blood-spattered and dirty as his Xiscapian colleague as he snapped off a salute.
"Major Othten reports, sir. Commander, 3/1*."
The Setulan troops in the background did not fidget or move at all as their CO (XO only six hours before-a Dan shell had smoked their Colonel during the retreat) met with the coallition officers. Their lack of movement was not from anxiety or proffesionalism anymore; it was from rage. They had seen the looks from the Alversians, and had read the signal five by five. They were angry that their reputation had been tarnished...and were ready to take on any amount of amphibian sonsabitches to prove it.
His troops were all infantry, with a few heavy weapons teams intermingled. Despite that, the hardest punch they had were still the discs that hung from their belts, if for no other reason than the fact that there were so many of them.

Tenfour

Marchamp was glad she had agreed so quickly with him.
"Well...you have to understand, Empress, our police are actually members of the Planetary Guard. They are, before all else, soldiers, and disobeying one who orders a thief to stop is much more likely to end up dead than in prison. More than that, the people accept it fully. There was a period of about five years after the Great War when crime was rampant, and several gangs grew hugely powerful. The reply, once we could focus on it, ended with several hundred dead gang members, and a much smaller number in prison.
"Murder, rape, piracy and slavery are all offenses which generally end with execution. The selling of controlled substances and smuggling can end with execution, depending on circumstances. Other crimes, such as robbery, assault, and embezelment are life sentences, again depending on the severity of the crime. Smaller crimes are dealt with harshly as well, though less so. Often it involves forced service for the Republic, generally building." Realizing how that might sound to someone not used to the practice, he hastily added more on. "Not like death camps or the like, you understand. They report from their homes to the place of work each day." He sat back.
"We have very little crime in Setulan, Empress. It is engrained upon us from a young age, even back when the Emperor was still in power, that if you commit a crime your life is in jeopardy. We have gotten rid of death by torture that the Emperors seemed to like," he added, "but the principle is the same."

Setulan System

Setulan had no war correspondents per se; selected soldiers had cameras that broadcast their feed from the battlefield to the news outlets across the system. Once there, various talking heads explained what was going on. This footage was shown in a constant feed from different soldiers during the course of a battle, and a box was always in the corner of the screen, showing what was happening as "military experts" (mostly from the government) gave in depth analysis of the tactical situation as they saw it.

In realistic terms, this meant that every citizen in Setulan could see the battles being waged across many systems. They saw the hordes of Danaversians walk into the guns of the defenders on Colony 2, advancing despite horrendous losses.
They witnessed the brutal tunnel fighting in the dark tunnels as the soldiers of the Colony made their desperate last stand, muzzles flashing like strobes in the night.
They saw, first hand, the power of Danaversian bombardment on Coallition lines on Miller. They had an (almost) live feed of the desperate withdraw from the planet, one which they watched with horror, wondering if any of the troops would make it out alive.

It started in locker rooms. Sports teams, largely comprised of fit individuals, spoke in anger about what was happening to men not so disimiler to themselves. It spread rapidly from there, to the bars and clubs of the entire system. It began as a trickle, groups of friends walking into recruiting offices and demanding to be detailed to infantry, or armor, or artillery, anything at all so long as it was a combat arm. The trickle soon turned into a flood as thousands, even tens of thousands of the systems youth poured out to give their bodies to the Setulan war machine.

It had finally occured to everyone that this war would need manpower...and they were willing to provide.

OOC-
3rd Battalion, 1st Republican Rifles.
Also, Al, can't help but notice the corporal's name...:p

OOC: Sorry for the bad quality of the post, but I've not been well recently and this was the best that I could be muster.

Miller, Gerrard's Hill

"Setting up a Crossfire Ma'am," Baines explained as he settled down in the series of bushes, his men checking their Heavy blasters to ensure that, when the moment of truth came, when the Dans would walk again into the Coalition Fire. It was at this time that Baines' attack would pay off. He hoped it would, truth was that he had rather stolen and simplified the tactics of the legendary General, Daniel Hagman, leader in the first Danaversian War. He had taken on the Danaversians in their Prime, when they had really been one of the most feared forces in the galaxy. Yet he had won. Now Baines was going to use his famous 'divide and conquer' techniques again against their old Enemies.

He sighed and lay in the shrubs, waiting patiently for the next attack. He knew the Infantry would be more than ready to hit the Danaversians as soon as they approached. They knew they had messed up. They wouldn't mess up again.
Then, with a roar of defiance, the Danaversians burst from the hedgeline and charged up the hill.

Miller, Martin's Plaza

"Simple Lads," Saan rubbed his hands together and pointed into the plaza itself, essentially a square of four storey buildings with only one gap in each side for the small street. The central plaza itself was empty, apart from a few craters and low flowerbeds,
"I want one Battalion to take up position these buildings to the left, and one to the right. When the Dan Bastards come up on us through this road, you'll mow 'em down. Understand?" He looked at the two Battalions, "Stay hidden in the buildings. When I give the other, you'll blow them away. Understand?"

Alversian Space

As the main battle was winding down, the Alversian Fleet led by Cavourna, consisting of the Heavy Cruisers, Cruiser and Destroyers also engaged at the same time as the Belkaran Suits hit the Danaversians. The battle as quick, as the superior forces tore into their flanks. The Danaversians began to retreat, their ships having enough of a battle that could not be won.
They turned and fled, leaving thirty destroyed vessels for only three Alversian ships disabled. A total victory. To say the least.

Lune, Xiscapia

"Oh," Emma's ears drooped and her tail went slightly limp, "Okay," She took another drink of her tea. He only saw her as a collegue? Her heart felt heavy as she swallowed the hot liquid. She wasn't quite sure what to say and so she glanced out the window at the city of Lune passing by in another day in war.

Illesia City, Alversia

"The forces will be gathering at Dela, simply for logistical reasons. It is better to have the Army land as one force. It will also place less pressure on the Navys of the Coalition to have one escort force, rather than three. The meeting between the land forces will be in one day's time. We are still assigning Troops to the force"
The Senator reported easily and calmly,
"However, I shall connect your Commander to Admiral Jones, who is leading the Task Force to take the planet."

With that, the appearance of an Alversian, a tall man with black hair, blue eyes and a jovial face, wearing the uniform of an Admiral of the People's Navy,
"Greetings," He bowed, "I am Admiral Jones, Commander of the Deep Space Fleet and leading this Coalition against the Danaversian Shoal at Miller."

Miller, Improvised Command Post...

"It'd be easier to hide a battlecruiser in my back yard than our affair from the brass after this," Dui laughed. "But it's not that I'm worried about-"

Then, screaming and yammering, the Danaversians made their second assault, clambering up to try and crush the defenders. Dui slammed the button on her vox, connecting with Baines in an instant. "Corporal, hold your fire, don't shoot until you feel their breath!" She was aware her words were unnecessary; the Alversian knew what he was doing.

"Chết, bạn shit-chó ăn!"* Dui cried, firing her pistol down the slope, pulling the trigger so rapidly it was like automatic fire. Danaversians were flung left and right from their positions, tumbling back down the hill, flesh vaporized and smoking where the blasts hit them. Yesho added his own devastating rifle fire to the mix, sweeping it across the charging enemies with cool precision.

"Green, we need some more of those disk bombs!" Dui unhooked a grenade from her belt, kissed it, pulled the pin and hurtled the explosive down the incline. It bounced once and detonated, turning two Danaversians into clouds of gore and felling several others as their flesh was pierced by shrapnel.

Miller, City...

"Yes sir!" The Lieutenant Colonel saluted smartly. Personally he would have sent a Platoon or Company to set up the firing point, because an entire Battalion would be difficult to conceal even in a large building, but Saan did (technically) outrank him and he wasn't about to argue with the him now. He had led them all this far, why doubt the kitsune now? The LC began to issue orders to his Majors. "You and your troops, second and third floors, set up MG nests and GL positions, we want to take 'em down quick, my snipers and missile troopers, fourth and fifth floors. The rest of you, with me, lobby and grounds, get into a hidden position but for Qonn's sake make sure you have a clear shot at the street!"
Thus they began to move to inhabit and fortify the building.

Meanwhile Corporal Thét's second-in-command was shooting looks at him, and though the Xiscapian didn't acknowledge them, he knew his subordinate was nervous. The other twenty soldiers had been displaced behind them, leapfrogging from rubble piles, burned-out vehicles, shell craters and low walls, moving slowly, always wary. They knew something was going down back at their origin point, but the officers of the Coalition were close enough to use radio contact to update the skirmishers without risk-
-Unless the enemy was very near.
Gripping his rifle, Thét stopped, using hand motions to silently indicate that they all needed to stop and drop. The Xiscapians did so, going into cover, safeties off, and blended into their environment. The street was utterly empty and still now, and no one coming would ever suspect the presence of nearly two dozen elite soldiers.

Tenfour, Xiscapia...

The Empress listened patiently and politely, swallowing the last of her coffee delicately. Finally she spoke. "We, too, have initiated capital punishment for the offenses of rape, premeditated, unjustified murder and slavery. The Xiscapian people feel especially strongly about slavery, and to commit any of the Three Great Atrocities, as they are known, is not only a crime against the individual or individuals, but one against the State, Xiscapian society, and Qonn himself. However, we do recognize that, no matter how severe or lenient a society might be, deviants will always exist. Thus we concentrate more on rehabilitating and introducing criminals non-violent criminals back into society, or exiling them for very little cost to the State, rather than consuming resources and time to execute or permanently detain most offenders. Still," she crushed the paper cup in her grip and tossed it into a nearby garbage can, "we have found uses for criminals before. All this talk of crime wearies me, though," her dark but luminous eyes focused on him, "what would your people trade with ours? And what can we trade to you that you have need of?"

Lune, Xiscapia...

Ginta sat and nursed his tea, entirely at ease with the situation if only because of his cluelessness. After a time he detected something was wrong, and he studied Emma, attempting to ascertain what variable had participated this change in behavior. After a few moments he set down his mug and, reaching out, laid on hand atop hers on the table. "What's wrong?"

Illesia City, Alversia...

"Admiral Jones," Sor spoke, but both he and Genko bowed, "what can Coalition forces expect from the Danaversian Shoal at Ferra?"

OOC:

*Die, you shit-eating dogs!

Miller, Improvised HQ

Green was half smiling as Dui spoke before the hordes of Danaversians rushed out. Calmly, he bellied down and set up his weapon on a bipod. He then proceeded to fire tight, controlled bursts of heavy fire, followed by longer sweeping ones, to mow down the enemy. The heavy slugs punished anything that it came into contact with, ripping off limbs and caving in chests. He cued his vox.
"Sergeant, I need discs on the enemy, half bounce." His vox cackled.
"Roger."
Behind Green and Dui, the remaining Republicans unlimbered one disc each.
"Half bounce!" The men set the fuses accordingly. "Release!" As one, the men stood up and launched their weapons before diving back into cover. One wasn't quite quick enough, taking a hit on the shoulder, and he collapsed in agony.
The discs flew true, hitting the ground in front of the Danaversians and bouncing up about four feet in the air...before they exploded at the apex of their jump.
Right in front of the Danaversians.
The results were typical, and the explosions followed by the shrapnel blew holes in the approaching attack...but there were only six discs, and there were hundreds of amphibians.
"It won't be enough, sir, we're out of discs!"

Miller, City

Othten nodded but didn't bother to salute again. He turned towards his men and started to give orders.
"Support company, second floor. Alpha on the ground, Bravo on third, Charlie on fourth, Headquarters on fifth. Delta and Echo, in the grounds, stay concealed. Let's move. Prime the discs."
The battalion hustled out. The heavier weapons the battalion had were stationed on the second floor-heavy machineguns, a few Banshees, rocketeers, and a disproportionate number of disc throwers. Scout platoons for each company set up on their own, scoped rifles concealed in different cover points. They would massacre anything that came their way.

Tenfour

"In large part, finished goods, especially agricultural and heavy industrial machinery. That is actually one of the reasons we started to expand to the colonies-a need for raw materials. While we do not have a shortage at the time, it was deemed prudent. Besides," Marchamp added darkly, "It would open a place for the refugees." He sighed. "Luxury goods as well, mostly from Shez. Wines, cigars, coffee. Food supplies, of which we always have a tremendous surplus. Tourism," he added with a smile. "Always useful to have. To get more exact details, I would have to speak with the industrial barons on Setulan, but that is the general gyst.
"As for what you can trade us...I imagine anything. We are not overly concerned with protecting our market at the time, and I imagine anything that came over would be regarded well. What is there to offer?"

Illesia City, Alversia

Durmel nodded politely to Jones.
"And what can our land forces expect once we break through the shoal?"

Alversian Space

The Belkans noticed the retreat, and disengaged their mobile suits and ceased their barrage, destroying only a few valuable ships before allowing the others to escape. Dozens of suits drifted lifeless in the void, along with five Belkan ships, but to have routed the larger force was still a great victory. Admiral Horan called for his hookah pipe, ordered a repair dock from Belkaros High Command, and hailed the Alversians.

Congratulations, my friends. I am glad to see that our forces were able to work together to defeat the Danaversians here. I would like to meet again to plan our next move.

Miller, Improvised HQ

At the same time as the call for the Disk Grenades went out, Baines judged that the moment was right to bring his small squad into the fray. He had been waiting anxiously, watching as the Danaversians marched into the fire of the Coalition Defenders, whole sections being blown away by the automatic fire, yet it was not enough, for the Danaversian formation seemed to soak up the damage and press on regardless. One thing had to be said for the Danaversians, they had a a lot of courage, even if they were the enemy.

Baines watched as the Danaversian ranks moved closer and closer to the Defensive line of the Alversian Platoon. They were now level with his hidden men, marching in a formation eight troops deep. They were leaving their dead and wounded behind them as they marched, filling in the gaps left by casualties to make it seem as if noone was being injured at all. Baines silently took a grenade from his belt and activated it. He counted the seconds in his head before rolling it underarm towards the Danaversian formation. He judged it perfectly and the grenade went off between the second and third ranks, killing a dozen Danaversians and breaking up the right flank. His men opened up with their own heavy blasters, mounted on bipods, firing controlled bursts into the side of the Danaversians who had stalled their attack against the sudden assualt. Being hit from both the front and the sides, the Danaversians could take no more and fled back to their cover at the bottom of the hill.

Baines let out a sigh of relief that his plan had worked. He also knew that he had to redeploy back into the main defensive line to bolster it, for another half dozen Alversians had been killed or wounded in the attack. One thing was clear, they weren't going to be able to hold out much longer.
"Ma'am, Sir" Baines saluted both Colonels as he passed. He did not smile at his victory for, in the grand scheme of things, it looked as though it would all be for nothing. He felt sorry for Dui more than anything. If they were overrun and she was captured, then she faced a fate worse than death.

Miller, Martin's Plaza

Saan had taken up position with the Kitsune Battalion in the west facing buildings while the Setulans had occupied the buildings facing to the east, leaving the Plaza looking as if they had never been there. The buildings were quiet, every Soldier nervously holding his breath, fearing the worst. The only sounds in the city, apart from the obvious rattles and clanks of armour hitting against stone or metal debris, where far off. Officers were hissing for silence so they could hear the other sounds of a war-torn city.

The first sound was the most obvious noise of marching. The sound of thousands of heavily loaded feet beating down on the ruined tarmac streets and enhanced off the skeletons of the buildings. This was the approach of the Danaversian column, the Army that was attempting to cut off the Coalition Retreat. These Sixteen Thousand troops were the ones that Saan hoped to repel here, with his two Battalions. If he had had the breath, he would have laughed at the idea. Two thousand against Sixteen thousand, not a ratio he would have chosen himself, but when did a Soldier ever get his own way?

The other sound he could hear was the faint crack of blaster fire far over into the distance. Saan's ears perked naturally towards the sound, picking up on the noises. He could hear the intense higher-pitched fire of Setulan automatic weapons and the deeper cough of Alversian Semi-automatic fire. He took hope in the noises, for they, with the addition of the explosions, showed that the HQ area was still holding. What he dreaded now from that direction was silence.

As he thought of that though, he saw a sight that forced him back to the here and now. His opponent had at last appeared. Even he swallowed that the sight, for the Danaversians were coming in numbers he had never seen before. Sure, there had been more Danaversians attacking the Defensive Lines, but here, packed into the streets, they looked far more menacing. In the opposite buildings, he could see movement from the Setulans as they prepared for the strike. The Setulans would fire as one with the Xiscapians, Saan having gotten the frequencies for both Units before deploying into their respective positions.

Saan gulped in air as he prepared for the call that would start the slaughter. He let the Danaversians march through until the front rank were almost through the Plaza, allowing as many troops as possible into the killing zone before opening fire. He could see the Danaversians marching, see their weapons slung over shoulders and their armour gleaming. Some where smoking on big double ended pipes while others were talking and laughing in their harsh language. None of them thought to look to the buildings to see what was waiting for them. Too confident in their blocking forces for caution. A mistake that many would regret. The smell was incredible.

As the first Soldiers began to step out of the Plaza, Saan filled his lungs and yelled at the top of his voice, standing as he did to show himself to the Setulans, yet remaining hidden from the Danaversians on the ground,
"Now!" he yelled.

Miller, Skirmish Line

Ahead of the Xiscapian Skirmish Line there was a large house which looked as though it hadn't been touched by the bombardments of the city. It still looked clean and new, the only missing element where the window panes, blown out by other explosions. However, the main thing that marked this house as unique was the waft of black smoke that drifted from one of the upper-windows. If the Xiscapians investigated, they would find that the smoke was coming from one of the Danaversian pipes, with the Owner sitting behind a large machine blaster. The device was well hidden, impossible to see from almost all angles but offering an excellent view of the street.
The Gunner was protected by two dozen other Danaversian soldiers who stood and lounged in the lower floor. They were not expecting any trouble for a while yet.

Alversian Space

Reynolds sighed in relief as the last of the Danaversian forces withdrew from the battle area and, hopefully, from Alversian space. It had not been a remarkably difficult fight, for the Danaversians had come in the same manner as before and been defeated as before. He almost laughed, but kept his calm composure. They had been victorious sure, but the Alversian fleet had suffered and were not in a condition to pursue. Not only that, but the Home Fleet was just that, it protected Alversia itself. He also needed to redeploy his own forces back to the DMZ to ensure that the Aluminan forces, who had taken up the slack following the Alversian withdrawal. Only he had been able to draw the promise from the Alumina. Now he needed to return with his own forces. He knew that the two Admirals who were present would help the Belkans to sort out something. A message was sent as about half of the Alversian fleet split off and raced back towards the DMZ.

"We will return to Alversia, when we are there, then we shall plan for our next move. Congratulations on a successful first engagement with the Danaversian Empire, I hope that we can continue to work together so effectively"

Alversia had lost a Cruiser and three Destroyers in the battle with an AA Cruiser crippled. With a total of 4,600 dead Alversians.

Lune, Xiscapia

"Hmm?" Emma asked, looking up at him. She felt his hand on hers and she blushed furiously, her tail flicking madly. She looked into his eyes for a moment before glancing down at a newspaper that sat beside the table, placed there for the Customer's convenience and for reading purposes. She looked at the headline and back at Ginta,
"Have you heard of this?" She asked, nodding to the headline, showing the Elixir of Life landing at in Rio Casa Spaceport with the headline above it
Alversian Mercenaries destroy Danaversian Convoy!

Illesia City

"Greetings to you both," Jones stated to the two Representitives,
"I'm afraid that I am unaware as to the Ground Forces that the Danaversians have landed, intelligence is still being gathered on that front for the moment. However, we believe that the Danaversians have assembled a fleet of thirty five ships, fifteen of which are Barracudas and twenty are Barramundi. Luckily for us, they are not supported by the Ferran Navy, which has been grounded. With our Combined Fleets, I cannot imagine them posing much of a problem. However, the longer we stay idle, the more likely that the Danaversians will reinforce the garrison."

Illesia City, Alversia

Horan landed in the Belkan temporary HQ. His fleet was stationed at the edge of the planet's gravity well, a repair dock brought in from Belkaros working on the damaged craft to prepare for the conflicts to come. He stepped out of the compound, flanked by two guards, and headed towards a waiting transport.

Twenty minutes later, he was standing outside the meeting hall. He had been skimming news feeds about Alversians, and came across something about an attack on a Danaversian colony. The report seemed dubious, but he would ask further anyway. He tucked his datapad under his arm and headed towards the Alversians who were waiting to greet him.

Miller, Improvised HQ...

"Corporal, get your tail back here!" Dui called out, staring down the slope with an absent-minded expression. "Corporal, listen." She gestured to him, one fox ear perking slightly in an almost comical manner of hearing. In the distant, in the city, they could distantly hear gunfire and explosions. "The main body is close, Baines, we've only got a few minutes more to hold out. If my intuition is right, those Dans at the bottom of the hill will make a last-ditch assault to try and take this hill before the 610th and the Joint Division gets here, everything they've got. You're the one who can rally your men, not me, you're one of them, I'm just the talking fox, you get me trooper? We've only got," she looked around, "twenty-four able-bodied soldiers, myself and Green here included, and a twenty or so wounded. It ain't much to hold the line with, but we've got to do it, help is almost here." Yesho had since made his way up and was standing near Green, rifle propped against his shoulder, helmet long since lost, looking casual. "Ehey, Colonel's," he waved, attracting their attention, "if we don't make it outta here alive, do I still owe all your men down there their credits?"

Miller, Plaza...

The thousand-strong battalion of kitsune sprang from cover with a mighty yell and attacked, battle-cries intermingling with the characteristic chatter of heavy weapons, the heavy thud of explosives and the agonized screams of the wounded and dying. From the upper stories snipers fired liberally, shots tearing though multiple foes, and rocket troops deployed their deadly cocktails of explosives in the middle of the mob, forcing those on the outside closer to the building, where they were cut down by fire. Tripods and machine guns growled away, slicing though the ranks with ease, while grenade launchers though soldiers left and right constantly, creating patterns across the mass. In the lobby grenades sailed out and soldiers simply let loose with whatever weapon they happened to be carrying at the time, not at all worried about missing. Still, none got any closer than fifteen feet to the numerically superior Danaversian force, letting their range do all the work. There would be plenty of time for swordsplay later when they made their way though the carpet of wounded troops and were forced to send the more relentless on their way with a quick stroke of the blade.

Above them Blue Four watched as Blue Three dispatched the last Conger fighter, sending the flaming craft pinwheeling down to the surface to join the scattered remains of his brethren. All told, the six fighters versus two LAM had taken two minutes, and ended with six dead pilots and some slightly scratched paint on the mecha armor. Hovering hundreds of feet above the smashed city, Blue Three looked at Blue Four. "What say we drift along to the HQ and see what the news is?" he suggested, cannon retracting into an arm to point into the hazy distance. Blue Four shrugged, he'd been doing a lot of that lately. "Fine by me," he drawled, "looks like the guys down there don't need us anyhow."
They wandered off.

Skirmish Line...

Corporal Thét was watching the house, listening with apprehension to the boom of weaponry many blocks away. He looked at one of the snipers concealed in the shadow of an overturned car, and began to communicate with hand motions and subtle flicks of the tail. It was an inexactly language, and highly open to interpretation, but it would do here.
Private, target that tango in the window.

The other looked back and began to make equally complex yet meaningful signals.
I'll draw fire.

Thét knew this was true. Even if there wasn't somebody waiting to take up the post if the first went down, the others in the house would be sure to start shooting at anything that moved. What they needed was a way to make them concentrate in the wrong direction, and hit them from the flank right hard.

He gestured back impatiently.
Get him in your scope. Fire on command.

He picked out and started motioning to three others, a missile soldier and two of his squad grunts. You, get around the side, you know what to do.

With a few upraised middle fingers that left no intent to the imagination, the soldiers did as ordered. Thét could understand; what he was asking them to do had a very good chance of getting them killed, and there was no guarantee the tactic would work at all.

Across the building the missile soldier, having moved painstakingly slowly across the rubble a block over to avoid detection, centered his targeting computer on the simple, blank ground-story wall before him that he knew Danaversians were behind. The missile would strike the structure, blow the wall in and probably collapse that room, and generally cause chaos. One grunt was on top of a small destroyed shed, lying prone, staring down the scope of his automatic. The other was closer, readying a grenade to toss and then get the hell away from where he stood, least he be shredded by some quick-thinking Danaversian return fire. The thought was that their fire would convince the Danaversians this was an attack, and hopefully make them think the kitsune had underestimated their numbers, so they would spill out to engage them, or fortify heavily in their direction. While this happened Thét and his troops would storm the structure from the rear and clear it out, supported by snipers, and destroy the enemy force from behind.
That was the plan, anyway.

Tenfour, Xiscapia...

The Empress cast around, one hand waving airily. "Everything you see here, and more. I imagine the computer producers will love a new market, especially for VR. The Korr families, too, will probably open numerous coffee shops anywhere they can find a plot of land. We do some arms producing, although I don't know if your military would be interested in that, and we also have large stockpiles of foodstuffs. We'll probably trade our more exotic delicacies to experience choice Setunalite cuisine. The biggest market in the Kitsune Empire is ore, though." She smiled. "We've always liked to dig, and Xiscapia has large deposits of cortosis, energy crystals and gems, as well as the more mundane metals like tin, iron, aluminum, silver and titanium. That will be our primary trade, I can assure you."

Lune, Xiscapia...

"Hmm?" Ginta looked down at the paper, but did not withdraw his hand. "No..." He frowned at it. "Hey, it's a Black Raider class. I worked on designing that ship..." He lapsed into silence. "What about it?"

Illesia City...

"What about the locals?" Genko asked. "What of the Ferran Army and Navy?"

Miller, Improvised HQ

Green frowned, listening to the shooting and explosions. Whatever the cause, it didn't bode well for the Joint Division. He growled angrily. He agreed with Dui fully, but didn't know any way they could stop the impending attack without being slaughtered like sheep.
Thank the gods there are no Booleans to lend the Dans some brains.
His men were out of discs. He had two, but only a hundred fifty rounds left for his machinegun. After that ran out, he would only have his sidearm, and however good of a shot he may be, it wouldn't be anything like enough to stop another banzai charge of the scale they had seen so far.
Loading his remaining ammo belt into the Devil, he snuggled the weapon against his shoulder. Whatever came, he wouldn't let them get Dui.

Miller, Plaza

The Setulans immediately opened fire, blazing away with abandon at the Danaversians so horribly exposed to their fire. The remaining heavy weapons reaped a terrific toll, heavy slugs blowing apart Danaversians left and right as small arms fire chased the others as they ran for cover. Discs sailed out, set to explode on impact with the ground-the Xiscapians were too close to risk bounces. The high explosives ripped holes in the lines as the amphibians died in droves.
The young major in command watched in approval. He had nothing against blowing away an enemy from long range, and the crossfire set up by the coallition troops was simply devestating. There was no real need to aim at the moment, as a shot fired into the plaza was almost guarunteed a hit.
It was a good thing for all involved that the Dans were so overconfident. In this buisness, overconfidence killed.

Tenfour

"In that case, I imagine an excellent trade relationship. Ore for machines is always a good trade. I will contact the neccessary officials upon returning to my quarters." He pondered for a moment, wondering what the impact of the influx of raw material would do. Who knew? Certainly not an enginner turned general turned prime minister turned diplomat.
"You should contact those who will ship the goods once you return to the palace. While I'm sure it will take some time to get the goods prepared, I imagine there are those in the buisness sector who have already anticipated this moment since first contact was made."

Illesia City

That did not please Durmel one bit. This wasn't even bad intelligence, this was no intelligence at all. He heard the fleet estimates, thought back to what his intelligence officers had told him about the Dan ships, and projected a number in his mind. The number was not a particularly pleasant one. He kept his mouth shut and listened to the response for the next question.

OOC- Did I miss something? Are we waiting on someone?

OOC: You're waiting on me, I've been having a little trouble RL but I can assure you that I have not forgotten this thread. Expect a response within the week.

Miller, HQ

"You'll owe double," Baines laughed then turned back sombrely and nodded to Dui, forgoeing the salute on this occassion. He knew the threat and he knew the danger. Like Dui, he had noticed that the explosions and rattles of automatic fire were coming closer and closer to the Headquarters area and, far from being ideal, he knew that the Danaversians, desperate for a victory, would attack with everything they had, trying to overwhelm the thin defence before the Guards and Joint Division could reinforce them. He looked over his own men. Out of the fifty there had been, he could not have more than a third of that number. The rest of his men dead and wounded. There were just two other Corporals left alongside him, all other Officers dead and wounded. Even if he had not wanted to be a Leader, he was one now. Dui's words also gave him confidence. He had to rally his men, but they were exhausted, they had long run out of grenades. The only advantage was that their rifle powercells would be good for several more hours of intense combat. The men were ready, they would stand fast to the end. Which may be very soon.

He took a deep breath and looked to his men,
"Move up the hill," he ordered through the comm system, "Back into the foxholes up here," As his men obeyed, moving from cover to cover back up towards holes abandoned by Setulan casualties. Upon seeing the questionning look, Baines explained,
"There are too many gaps in our own defences, because of casualties. I think, at this stage, a united front is better than a weakened defence in depth attempt.

Miller, Plaza

Saan watched as the Danaversians were slaughtered by the close range ambush, gaining a grim satisfaction in watching his enemy cut apart by the unexpected attack of the Joint Division. He watched as Danaversians were mown down by automatic fire, blasted into shreds by rocket fire or carved open by grenade shrapnel. He also watched as they started to break, not expecting this level of ferocity so soon into the city. They had been unprepared and so caught. Without much of a fight, they turned and fled. They pressed into those further back in the column, but the panic spread and soon the entire sixteen thousand strong army was in retreat, leaving a carpet of dead in the plaze.

Saan wrinkled his nose against the smell of the dead and dying, flies already settling down on the blackened corpses,
"Let's move lads!" he called, "back to the column!"
Speed was off the essence.

Xiscapia, Lune

"It's just that I've seen them a few times, carrying out a variety of things." She shook her head, quietly grateful that he did not withdraw his hand, "I can't understand how people can do that, just travel the universe, killing, stealing, lying and cheating, all for money." She sighed, "I think it's despicable, even if they are working on our side."

Illesia City, Conference

"The Ferran Army is mostly made up of conscripts. Numbers, we are unsure of, but it seems like they are spread out and have not recieved much in terms of equipment or training. Against professional, battle hardened troops, the only threat will be the Danaversian Garrison, something between a hundred and two hundred thousand Infantry. The Natives will be neutral, so long as we do not interfere with them, then they shall not interfere with us" The Admiral answered easily, "Any more questions?"

However, as the war progressed and a new threatre was planned, elsewhere, things were going wrong in the Geral system for Alversia.

Illesia City, APNHQ

"Welcome, Admiral," It was Admiral Sorenson again, appointed as APN Ambassador to the Belkans who had reinforced the capital, "May I congratulate you on a successful battle against the Danaversians."

Berrax Border

Along the border, the Danaversian strength was growing. They prepared the bulk of their attack, over a thousand ships, across the border from Hutrix, the old Zillar planet would be an excellent staging post for futher offensives into Berrax territory, for it was clear that War itself could not be avoided for much longer. Both sides used the time to build up in preparation for the big offensive and battles that would follow.

Illesia City, APNHQ
"Thank you Admiral, and I must congratulate you as well!" said an unusually cheerful Horan, offering his hand for a shake, a rare gesture for a Belkan. "I have been informed by the emperor himself that our empire is planning to pledge far more forces to this conflict, should the need arise. I must ask, though, if the rumors of Alversian mercenaries destroying undefended colonies are true. Your answer will not change the support you will receive from us, only the type of combat we will prepare for. But, forgive me, let us discuss this in private, along with a few other issues."

Miller, Improvised HQ...

Dui nodded in silent agreement; if it came to that, better to go out as one unified, concentrated group that in twos and threes scattered over the hillside. The Alversians and Setulanites began to fall back, picking up equipment and wounded comrades, struggling higher up the hill, and Dui followed suit, walking close to Green, afraid that this might be the last time they ever walked together in this dimension. Behind them they could see the flat farmland of Miller rolling up to the gray city shrouded with smoke, and here and there across the landscape could be found sprawled corpses or burned-out vehicles and equipment, marring the natural beauty with the detritus of war. She wondered about the people who had once lived here. Dui had never been to Miller, nor had most kitsune: It had only recently, within the year, been taken from the Greali by the Alversian military, and much of that time had been spent pacifying resistance groups and remnant Greali military personnel, making it unsafe for travelers. It seemed to her an unspeakably evil thing, to force people from their ancestral homeland in the name of...what? Conquering? Superiority? Imperialism?
She didn't know. She just killed aliens, she didn't try to rationalize their actions.

Then there came that dreaded noise: That war cry of Danaversians chargers. At the base of the hill the entire force of Danaversians rose up and began scrambling up the slope, a black mass sweeping forward like writhing oil, weapons discharging at the retreating Coalition troops. It was what the Coalition commanders at the Phase lines had been trying so desperately to avoid; the enemy attacking while they were moving to a different position, exposed and out of cover, not in an easily defensible post. The Alversians and Setulanite JD troopers turned, firing as they went, but they were hopelessly outnumbered and for every foe that fell, twisting as his purple blood sprayed, two more took his place.
The situation seemed hopeless.

Then there came a great roar from the sky, and two blurs impacted into the enemy formation, tossing the black-armored soldiers into the air. Blues Three and Four reared up, railguns thundering, energy swords crackling, and proceeded to lay into the aliens. Dui stood motionless, watching with her mouth slightly open. She had seen a great many things that day, but few parallelled the awesome power of a couple of mecha ripping though an infantry formation. It was also quite bloody; the Light Assault Mecha had been designed to combat enemy vehicles and fortifications, even it's less powerful weapons literally tore the footsoldiers apart, hacking off limbs and tearing apart bodies. In less than a minute it was over, where dozens of the Empire's finest had once stood there now laid a sad-looking pile of mutilated meat and bent, cracked scrap metal that had once been armor and weapons.

Blue Three stepped over, covered in gore, and Dui retreated upwind slightly. The smell was overpowering, and she wished she hadn't lost her helmet in that truck, with it's built-in gas mask. "Lieutenant," she nodded to the hulking armored suit.

"Colonel," Blue Three gave a little bow, servomotors whirring, voice deep and loud over the external speakers. "Glad we could exterminate your pest problem for you."

"Nothing like a three-ton walking tank to brighten up your day," she responded dryly. "How are things with the main force?"

"They stopped to set up an ambush for a Dan force that came 'roud to cut 'em off," Blue Four lit down beside them, thrusters hissing. "Made short work of 'em, too, they're on their way here now."

"I think that," Dui gestured to the pathetic remains of the Danaversian force, "was the last of the enemy in this area. Now we can wait peacefully." She smiled and holstered her pistol with finality.

Miller, Plaza...

"You heard the kitsune, let's haul tail," The Lieutenant Colonel barked to his troops. They had sustained exactly zero fatalities, and only a few wounded from misplaced grenades and other accidents. As they trotted back to join up with the main column the kitsune could be seen glancing curiously down at the slaughtered Danaversians; most of them hadn't seen them up close before, and some were superstitiously taking war trophies, like pieces of Danaversian armor, pistols, bayonets and other goodies. Such actions were frowned upon in the XGA, if they were caught the materials would no doubt be confiscated and the offenders repremended, but no doubt a few of those present would have some piece of Danaversian equipment on their mantle when they got back home. Soon enough the Second Battalion had joined back up with the main column and were on their way.

Miller, Skirmish Line...

The rocket fired, curving it's way out of the barrel, excrementing smoke, and smashed against the building, causing the wall to disintegrate and blowing sharpnel and a violent fireball inward. Danaversian soldiers recoiled, falling wounded and dead from the blast, and more chaos ensued as a grenade was lobbed though the hole, exploding inside and killing more of them, their armor unable to shredded due to the proximity of the blast. The sniper assigned to watch the MG post fired almost simultaneously, and the head of the Danaversian manning the gun vanished in a cloud of red, brains, bone, flesh and blood all but vaporized by the force of the bullet. Disoriented, the return fire was scattered and unorganized, and all flew wide of the attackers, who were now hidden somewhere in the ruins, concealed.

The Danaversian soldiers remaining, those who could still move and breath, pushed their way though smoke, rubble and bodies, looking left and right for the Xiscapians. Crowded at the front of the building, opposite the majority of the Skirmish line, they never saw the kitsune creep up behind them, silently infiltrating the house from the rear. Their first warning came with the tink of metal on metal and the sound of something bouncing and rolling across the floor from the foyer. With only a moment of hesitation they dove for cover, and the grenade detonated, a sharply defined, bright orange fireball in the confined space, setting wooden furniture, cloth, wallpaper and skin alight where the fuel splattered. Panicked, they began to go in two directions to get out the house: The greener, weaker troops fleeing towards the blown-out wall, the veterans heading towards the source of the 'nade.

The first ones out of the house made it about two yards before fire started up, automatic blaster bolts hissing around them, striking more often than missing. Unable to retreat back into the inferno that was their former stronghold, the Danaversian troops made a run forward, under fire as they tried to make it away. As they drew closer to the sources of the shots the fire slackened, then ceased entirely. Obviously the soldiers felt that the Danaversians were getting too close, and were making for safer ground. However, they could see neither hide nor hair of the silver-armored specters, no evidence that they had been but for the burning building and their dead comrades behind them. Spreading out slightly they advanced.

Presently they began to hear soft, muffled swearing in an foreign tongue. They looked at each other, excited; they had them now! The dozen fascist aliens turned the next corner into an alleyway and found a missile trooper. His launcher was beside him, on the ground, and he himself was sprawled, foot bent as if twisted, trying to drag himself away, tail under him, apparently unable to walk. At the mouth of the alley the Danaversians began to walk forward, guns levelled, unpleasant expressions on their ugly faces: A foe captured was far better than a foe killed, and seeing as this city was already theirs, they could take all the time they needed to subdue this one and bring him in. Their soon-to-be-prisoner had his helmet off too, and his grimace seemed strange, not one of pain or fear, but of...victory?

"Bạn biết những gì tôi như thế nào? Chiên cá.*" He said, and with one finger pressed the button on a small cylinder that he had concealed in his palm. There was a deep whoom noise as the mines under the feet of the enemy soldiers exploded, blowing them apart and throwing bodies and limbs spiraling into the air, wiping out the whole squad. The missile trooper grinned widely and stood up, shouldering his launcher, as his two comrades who had been covering him across the way walked across the street, rifles pointing at the sky. "Không ya nó khi tình yêu chỉ là một kế hoạch đi lại với nhau?"

On the other side of the building the Danaversian soldiers poured out, boots tramping on the wooden stairs as they came, heads up and swiveling. In an instant one was thrown back, a gory hole in his chest, falling onto the porch deck, dead. Sniper fire chewed though wood, armor and flesh, and more of the soldiers began to die. Quickly the others began to move back, their only cover the house, but the grenadier, having hidden in a room as they went past, was behind them, sword out. With a yell he attacked, hacking though them, blade flashing as it was covered in hot blood, standing just inside the door. In moments it was over; they'd all been killed by the array of snipers or by the lone swordsman, lying on their backs or stomachs in pools of their own fluids, no longer a threat. Corporal Thét ran two fingers up the blade of his katana, staining the gloved hands with blood and causing more to run off onto the ground in a dripping stream. "Good work, boys," he jerked his head, "let's round 'em all up and get the fuck outta here, I think it's time we've left this hellhole."

Xiscapia, Lune...

Ginta shrugged. "People will do as they may. What I can't understand is how either the Kitsune Empire or the People's Republic can hire," he rapped two fingers on the photo, "this. There's benefits, deniability and not risking Xiscapian or Alversian lives, but at the end of the day it's tax payer's money they're eating up, when our own soldiers could do the job just as well. Isn't that what they're there for?" He sighed. "I find mercenaries and their kind very distasteful indeed." He sniffed. It was almost a part of the territory; working for the government, most officials distrusted or despised criminals and vagabonds of all types.

Xiscapia, Tenfour...

"You should contact those who will ship the goods once you return to the palace. While I'm sure it will take some time to get the goods prepared, I imagine there are those in the business sector who have already anticipated this moment since first contact was made."

Jade nodded somberly. "Definitely. Most businesses have been flicking their tails left and right, they're impatient to get their products into a new market. You only have to give the word, and hundreds or even thousands of merchants will be flocking to your Setulan Prime."

Illesia City, Conference...

Genko concealed a sigh. Numbers are always on the enemy side! It was the fate of almost every Xiscapian commander in most situations; that the enemy would outnumber and outgun you. It was, of course, taught that you should outsmart and outmaneuver him to negate these advantages, but the kitsune Major General wished that once, just once, his officers and troops could have numerical superiority. Fucking High Command. Still, he knew that it wasn't his problem: The one who would truely be cursing soon was Lieutenant Colonel Vin. He shook himself out of these thoughts to listen to the rest of what the Alversian had to say.

"With all due respect, Admiral," Genko inclined his head, "not interfering with the civilians is easier said than done. In war, the first and worst casualties are always the noncombatants, it's unavoidable. We may have to do more than anticipated to keep the public on our side, because as hard as we try, I can virtually guarantee some will die, inadvertently by our hand, or in some manner by the Danaversian troops and their Ferran supporters."

Miller, Improvised HQ

Green simply watched with no expression in his face as the Danaversians were slaughtered like cattle. It was a strange moment for him-he was impressed beyond words. He couldn't even think of a witty quip to make to lighten the moment.
Damn.
Green looked at his heavy weapon for a moment and slung it across his shoulders.
"I'm out of ammo anyway." He gave a look to the mecha. "Gentlemen, you have extraordinary timing."
Higher up the hill, the remaining Setulan troops let out sighs of relief before going over to their Alversian counterparts. With relief in their voices, they started to do what soldiers do best-bitch about high command and the current situation.

Miller, Plaza

Cheers briefly erupted from the throats of the troopers in third battalion, but they quickly died down.
"Let's boogie, boys! Back to the column." The young Major looked at the corpses in front of him without pity as he walked by, occasionally putting an extra bullet in a twitching body. No point in risking a lone Danaversian deciding it would go out with a bang. The Major saw a few of his troops bending over to grab Dan equipment, and he stopped them with a look.
"No point, troopers. This war is a long time in ending." With nods, they dropped the gear and hurried back to the column.

Tenfour

Marchamp smiled happily.
"Well then, I am glad that is settled. Once we return, I'll make sure I let Setulan know." He laughed softly. "This will open a new market in Setulan, you know. We have very few deep space cargo ships, and those we have are generally decommissioned warships. It will interesting to see what our dockyards turn out."

Illesia City, Conference

Durmel frowned slightly, which seemed to be the expression of choice for dealing with Danaversians.
"That is...alot of amphibians." All of 7th Army had only 50,000 troops, give or take a few, and that included support units.

"With all due respect, Admiral, not interfering with the civilians is easier said than done. In war, the first and worst casualties are always the noncombatants, it's unavoidable. We may have to do more than anticipated to keep the public on our side, because as hard as we try, I can virtually guarantee some will die, inadvertently by our hand, or in some manner by the Danaversian troops and their Ferran supporters."

Who cares? Durmel thought wryly. It was not that he believed in killing innocent people, but his men always came first. If the death of civilians was what it took to bring all his troops home, he was willing to take that. Still, he waited to hear the rules of engagment.

Miller, HQ

Baines whooped in joy at the sight of the Danaversians being cut up by the Mechs. His men cheered in delight, completely disbelieving that they had been able to triumph against such overwhelming odds. The Danaversians had been repelled from the landing site at last, so many had been killed that the others had withdrawn. The ground was thick with the Danaversian dead, very few Booleans laying about in that thick carpet of blackened corpses. Baines looked to his celebrating men, none of whom could believe that they had weathered this storm and were going to make it, at least until the rest of the retreating troops made it back.

Sure enough, the snake of Infantry were soon present coming out of the city, easily marching around the smoking ruins of the Danaversian ambush. As the troops drew closer and closer, following the smoking, cratered road. However, a couple of figures were running up to where the Platoon was busy burying it's dead in the foxholes and collecting the weapons to be destroyed and so stopping them from falling into Danaversian hands. Upon close inspection, it was Saan who was running to the hill crest, with a Commander from each half of the Joint Division, one Marine and one Rifle.

"Greetings," Saan bowed, "I'm pleased that you have all made it through."

Miller, Lune

"I know, it doesn't make any sense at all," Emma smiled to herself, hand still entwined in his, tail twitching slightly, a small, blush entered her cheeks,
"I think we need to go back to the Lab," She said, almost a whisper, not looking in his direction, keeping her hold on his hand,
"Shall we go?"

Illesia City, APNHQ

"Colonies," Sorenson was confused, "I can honestly say that I have not heard of any such attacks on Colonies. It is against the Navy's policy to attack undefended colonies. But let us continue to the room" He offered a seat.

--

"Of course it will not be possible to avoid any civilian casualties but it will be standing rules not to interfere with the life of the civilians if at all possible. And, while the Danaversians will be landing about 100,000 Troops, we shall be landing 200,000 troops," The Admiral smiled, "I can assure you, for once, we shall have the Danaversians outnumbered."

APNHQ
"Good, that's just less red tape on the domestic front," said Horan, following Sorenson through the building. "The Emperor wishes me to meet with other allied forces sooner than later, so that we may get a more full scope of the war with the Danaversians."

Miller, HQ...

"Gentlemen, you have extraordinary timing."

"Thank you sir, Glad we could exterminate your pest problem for you." Blue Three inclined his massive, helmeted head. "We had to fly like we stole these mechs to get here, and we lost a few good kitsune along the way," he paused a moment, "but we made it here in the end." There came a hissing sound out of the speakers that could have been a sigh. "Always cleaning up the Army's messes, we are."

"Greetings, I'm pleased that you have all made it through."

"Not quite all," Dui said sadly, and gestured down the hill, where the bodies of the Alversians and Setulanites killed in action defending the hill were being gathered and buried. "Lieutenant Colonel, I don't know if you have any influence in the APA, but Corporal Baines," she nodded to the Alversian, off a ways, "pulled rank on me and saved our asses. If he hadn't rallied this platoon," her ears twitched, and she reflected that the platoon, down past half strength, wasn't even a platoon anymore, "you'd be finding our corpses and a whole lotta Danaversians at the top of this hill. If there's any possible way he can get a promotion and an officer's worth of medals, I want you to make sure he gets it."

The Lieutenant Commander at Saan's side was glaring at Green with barely-concealed anger, but Dui cut him off with a look, and he backed down. Whatever the officer felt towards the Colonel, he knew that if he went off on the Setulanite there would be hell to pay, from Green and Dui both. He made a mental note to file a complaint and settled to seething quietly.

Miller, Lune...

"Indeed," Ginta nodded, rising, tossing his cup into the nearby trash receptacle, taking his hand off hers and adjusting his glasses. "All work and no play makes Kyoto a productive member of society, as they say." He quoted with a chuckle.

Miller, Tenfour...

"I'm sure both our nations will soon be experiencing a demand for each other's goods," The Empress laughed, a beautiful tinkling sound which fitted nicely with her soft voice. "Come. I still must show you the Church."

Illesia, Conference...

"Hmph," Genko grunted, smiling. They weren't his troops, but they were allied troops, and that was almost as good. "Do we have a timetable for when the operation is to commence?"

Miller, Improvised HQ

Green was relieved to see the Joint Division make its way up the hill. The mecha were nice, but for all he knew there would be more amphibians, and having several thousand guns around him made him feel alot more secure.
He nodded agreement with Dui.
"More than I expected, however." He turned to Saan, blatantly ignoring the angry kitsune. "We heard a firefight in the distance that I took to be you guys. What happened, and what were the losses?" Looking around, he couldn't see one of the Brigade commanders. Frowning slightly, he put it from his mind and gave his attention back to Saan.

Tenfour

"Church?" Marchamp asked, rising as he did so. "Which church would that be?"

Illesia, Conference

Durmel sat back, allowing some of his satisfaction to show. Outnumbering Danaversians always sounded like a good plan...but then he reminded himself that he didn't know how many Ferran soldiers there were. And all the other things he didn't know about the enemy. He grimaced again.

"Oh?" Saan's own ears twitched and he looked over to where Baines was completing the burial of his casualties. His tail flicked to the side as he noticed how few people stood on the hilltop now. He sighed deeply. Obviously General Macklin had left a Platoon from one of the other Battalions behind to act as an Escort for the HQ Staff though it seemed like they had pulled back with the wounded General himself.
Baines was looking towards them uncertainly, seeing two Colonels and a Lieutenant Colonel looking at him while talking. He felt his stomach churn worse than anything it had in the midst of battle. That had been different, cold, hard training had kicked in there and he had done as was needed to kept his Platoon fighting and to stop them from falling about. He had never thought about what would happen afterwards, he supposed that everything would stay the same and that a new Lieutenant would come in to replace the dead while he stayed in command of his own little Section. But, if they were looking to him then he supposed that Dui was mentioning him to the Lieutenant Colonel of the Guards Battalion. He gulped and looked back to his men as they finished placing the slabs into the ground that denoted war graves, knowing that the Danaversians would not think to look for them,
"Right Lads," He said, "Come on, fold in with these guys"

Saan watched as the remnants of the Platoon marched down towards the long stream of Allied troops, the Corporal being careful not to catch their eyes,
"Well," Saan sighed, "I'll have a word with McGruger, the Commander of the 103rd Battalion," He had seen the emblem along the sleeves of the Troops and recognised them as the troops who had held their flank in the earlier stage of the battle. Saan had to laugh, McGruger was a hard nut at the best of times.

"Ah, yes," Saan turned to Green and his eyes narrowed somewhat, he was not a petty Kitsune but he couldn't let this slide. If the Commander of the Unit got away with fleeing from the enemy then what did the Lowest ranks have to work for? An Officer's primary job was to set an example, be it leading an offensive or simply standing with the men while they suffered in combat,

"Yes, one of your Battalions in the Vanguard was repulsed by Danaversians from a house in the retreat. However they, combined with a Marine Battalion," a nod to Dui, "To repel a Danaversian Army attempting to cut us off." He looked up to see the black sprall advancing over the horizon, the Danaversians from the old Frontline had regrouped and over a hundred thousand were advancing.

"I think it's time we beat a hasty exit," He sighed, looking over at his men then up at the transports roaring in to land nearby, "Mount up, I think." He turned to the Colonels, sparing a long look at Green,
"If I may request for you to rejoin your Units?" he raised his eyebrow at Dui's wound, "If you are fit for combat, Colonel."

Lune, Xiscapia

Emma sighed and watched as the Waiter took her cup and saucer. Her tail swished back in a wide arc, ears twitching and turning to every sound. She felt his hand slip through hers and she sighed. It had been nice while it lasted but now she knew that she would once again fold into the background, playing second fiddle to his science. Her ears drooped for a little and she forced her mind to go back to the calculations that had vexed her so before. However, while she was thinking of the Jaunt Drive, she thought of one ship in particular,
"Ginta," She said quietly, "Remember the Wanderer-Class?" She asked, remembering her work on that with the experimental Jaunt-Drive, back when it was only an embryo. Her pride and joy, gone like that, presumed destroyed. It had been a hard failure for her.

Illesia Conference

Admiral Jones looked to both representitives, waiting for another question when the door opened and a four screen flashed on to reveal the Belkan Admiral, standing in a seperate room in the APNHQ. Jones frowned for a moment at the new Arrival until he was filled in by Admiral Sorenson. He smiled then at the realistion,
"Misters Genko and Durmel, this is Admiral Horan, commander of the Belkan Fleet in Alversian Space. His ships will be joining the attack on Ferra."

Grand Admiral's Office, APNHQ

Ashe sat in her chair and looked out the vast bay windows at the scene that confronted her. Illesia was dark and cold at this time of year, though it would soon be heading from Winter into Summer, the sky was grey and blanketed over by a thick covering of grey clouds. It was a grey day to match the grey mood of the Grand Admiral.

Ashley Reyes was a painfully young person to be a Grand Admiral, she was only twenty-seven. If she had had a regular career then she would be a Captain now if she were lucky, if not, then she would be a Lieutenant Commander or Commander. But then, her career had never been normal. Hell, her life had never been normal. From the moment she had been tortured to near death to the moment she had led the biggest fleet in Alversia's history to victory against their most dreaded enemy, she had had a far from normal career. Sometimes she had to just sit and look around her office to remind herself how far she had come. However, at times like this, it was a major curse.

She looked up at her Aide, Commander Sasha, her long time friend and Confident, the woman who had once been her enemy when they were mere Officers in the Navy and Rebellion repectively. However, now, with the electronic Padd in front of her, displaying the data that had killed her day dead. It was news from the front. Bad news. No. Not bad news, devastating news, news that could spell the end of the war.

She looked up at Sasha, standing rigidly to attention, seeing the exhaustion and noticing that she was always stood to attention when the news was bad,
"You're sure of this?" She held up the padd, hoping against hope that it was fake information.

Sasha nodded, "The Midas Array had been taken."

The Midas Array was a small station based on an asteroid at the edge of the Malacus System in Alversian Space. It was beside the DMZ and, in fact, doubled a giant sensor bank for the mass of long range weapons on the DMZ. They were there to cut apart fleets assembling in Danaversian space, just beyond the borders. However, if it fell, then nothing would stop the thousands of Danaversians ships from assembling and washing over Alversian space. Tens of thousands of them.

Ashe sighed with the heavy weight of responsiblity on her shoulders. She shook her head,
"If the Midas Array had been taken then we have a huge problem."

Sasha nodded, "Aluminan Scouts also show that the Danaversians are assembling. The fleet is gathering."

"How many do they need to overwhelm the DMZ?" Ashe asked.

"We estimate about 12,000 ships to break through with enough ships to wash over us."

"Well, how many do they have now?"

"About 4,000" Sasha knew the number was serious. Ashe took a deep breath.

"This has to take priority over all other projects. Put me in contact with all Coalition Headquarters, Priority Red"

Priority Red was Alversia's top signal. It was reserved only for emergencies of the highest degree, threats directly to the People's Republic. The request went out to all the Headquarters of the Navies of the Coalition. This could not wait.

Miller, Hill...

"If I may request for you to rejoin your Units? If you are fit for combat, Colonel."

Dui exhaled sharply, smiling. "Lieutenant Colonel, I was born fit for combat," She turned to the long column of troops that was the Joint Division, grabbing Yesho by the shoulder and dragging him over with her. "Your helmet, thank you," She activated the vox, switched to the interior channel, and started to speak into the headgear. "All right you lot, gets your tails in gear, we're leaving this shithole!"

The Marines responded with a morale rousing "HOO-AHH!" and began boarding the transports home, moving in orderly rank and file with only the occasional nervous glance to the Danaversian troops incoming in the distance.

Lune, Xiscapia...

"Yes," Ginta nodded somberly, walking at an easy pace. The Imperial Labs, Raven as they were called on official reports, were only a few minutes away, a collection of vast dome buildings used by both private interests and the government but guarded by Imperial troops and overseen by Xiscapian officials. The Xiscapian Grand Army and Triad Corporation both had their Research and Development labs here, and though they were highly segregated, both teams worked on constructing and testing military-grade weapons and technology. Ginta had been on both sides, indeed, until recently he had been working on the Jaunt Drive project until a more enticing offer from Triad Corp had drawn him into the private sector once again.

"That was a great tragedy," he squeezed her hand. "A great loss to the Kitsune Empire and the People's Republic, and to Science as a whole. The deaths of over seventy Imperial and Republican personnel, not to mention that of that promising young Captain and his First Officer, were bad enough, but the disappearance of the Drive itself set us back several months." He sighed, remembering. The ship, an experimental light cruiser named the Exile, had been carrying a prototype Jaunt Drive with the intention to do a simple FTL leap out of the Xiscapian system, and back again. However, just as the Drive had engaged, the scanners both on board and focusing on the vessel had gone haywire, and while the ship had leaped, or "Jaunted" on schedule, it had never returned, and no one had ever seen it or it's unlucky crew again. No one knew exactly what had happened, and while government analysts were still pouring over the data, it was generally held that the Exile, and all hands aboard, had been lost forever, swallowed up into the strange world of quantum mechanics.

Xiscapia, Tenfour...

"The Church of Qonn," the Empress smiled, crossing the courtyard to where the painfully white Imperial shuttle sat on a landing pad, ramp open and awaiting their boarding. "Qonn, or the skilled use of the Force and the ancient arts, is the predominant religion in the Kitsune Empire. We will be travelling to the main Church back in Rio Casa, where you will meet the Chief Priest and learn a little about our religion and way our holy kitsune lead their lives."

Illesia Conference...

Genko turned his head and looked at the Belkan Admiral, studying him intently. "Admiral," he bowed, "I am Major General," he put unnecessary empathise on his rank, eyes flicking to the Alversian who dared introduce him as Mister, "Genko, head of the Tenth Army Division. This is my counterpart, Admiral Sor, of the II Fleet," he briefly enjoyed the look of chagrin that crossed the other kitsune's face at being beaten to the punch.

Office of Grand Admiral Krystal, XINHQ...

"...Priority Red, ma'am."

Grand Admiral Krystal, commander of the entire Xiscapian Imperial Navy, nodded wearily. "What is it this time?" She knew the Alversians had just repelled an attack on Alversian itself; perhaps this latest alert had something to do with that.

"The Alversian sit-rep won't say, ma'am, either he's been warned against talking or whatever's happened is so big he doesn't have authorization to know."

Krystal sighed again. Qonndamnit, why does everything have to be so complicated? "Get me APNHQ immediately."

"They've already been contacted, should be connecting...now."

Krystal turned from her intercom to the view screen which now displayed her Alversian People's Navy counterpart, Grand Admiral Ashe. Her uplink status indicated none of the other Coalition Naval commanders had joined in yet, so she sat tight, bowing tersely but saying nothing. From the gaunt look on Ashe's face, Krystal knew there was trouble, and it was big.

Miller, Evac

Green matched Saan's look with one of his own.
You don't intimidate me, Colonel, and you never will. He turned away as well with a last nod for Dui. He put on his helmet and sealed it as the Setulans filed back to the Joint Division.
"Let's boogie, Republicans! Time to leave this place forever...or at least till we take it back from those slimy bastards. Board up." The troops, trading jokes and rarely looking back, started to board the evac ships quickly and efficiently.
Just before boarding, Sampson hunched over and scooped up some dirt.
"Let's go, sergeant!"
"Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on!"
He smiled to himself. Another desperate battle he had survived...somehow. Regulations be damned, he was going to get wasted on the transport.

Tenfour

"Ah," Marchamp said, understanding finally reaching him. "I look forward to it. Religion is a rather iffy thing back on Setulan. The pagan rites that we once held have come back to the fore with the death of the Emperor, but I believe that barely a quarter of the population actually follows that particular creed."
He boarded the shuttle behind the Empress and sat comfortably once he saw that she had. He truly did look forward to meeting this priest. As he had said, religion was a mystery to him.

Illesia, Conference

Durmel noticed the emphasis and almost smiled. He, too had noticed the lack of honorific for the General and himself, but he just didn't mind as much.
"I am Theater General Durmel, Admiral, commander of 7th Army. My naval counterpart is unavailable at this time."
In Durmel's mind, nobody in this conference needed to know that the remains of Task Force Eternal Pain were finally having their long-overdue memorial service for their dead comrades. Even in war, some things must be done, and a briefing that the navy man would recieve a copy of was hardly grounds to interfere with his mourning.

Veto, Holo linkup

Lucious Broten was a tall, lithe man who had lived for one hundred and twenty four years. His hair, a pure shock of silver, was nonetheless all present despite the years, and if his face had a few more lines, so be it. He had been offered positions in government, positions in the (admitably few) higher ranks he could attain, and he had rejected them all. He was a patrician; his family had been in service to the Emperors since before the Navy had even made it to space. With ancestry like that, it had been a great surprise when he had left the Imperials in the first days of the war, declaring not for Maxellian, but for Tempes. He was widely considered the most brilliant of the Task Force commanders.

And he was also very, very angry.

The first time Marcus Grant had taken a ship out of drydock, it had been on Broten's ship. The first time Grant had been in combat, it had been as Broten's XO. When Grant got command of his first ship, he had been part of Broten's fleet. Marcus Grant had been Broten's protege...and he had been killed. Broten wanted blood.

And with this urgent warning, he could almost taste it.

The holo flickered into life before him, revealing the faces of the two young (to Broten, very young) Grand Admirals. He nodded curtly. His face had shadows underneath the eyes, and his Admiral's hat had a black band across it.
"Grand Admiral Krystal, Grand Admiral Ashe. I am Admiral Broten, Commander of the Rimworld flotilla, with my flag in Task Force Avenger. I speak for Setulan."

Illesia, Conference
"Gentlemen," began Horan, bowing to the assembled officers, "It is an honor. My forces are fresh and ready to do all that is necessary to ensure a swift Coalition victory. The Imperium of Belkaros is an lookign to end an era of isolationism, and we can think of no better way to do this than to help defend the sovereignty of those we would seek friendship with. I do not know as much about our current foe, and will thus differ to you, honorable commanders, in terms of tactics. Now, where do we begin?"

Miller

Saan frowned and waited until the last of his men were aboard before he stepped into the Troop Transport himself. As the doors closed slowly behind him, he looked back to see a landscape torn by war. The burning ruins of tanks and buildings, the deep crators torn open by artillery shots. The gutwenching smell of the dead, left where they had dropped. Miller had once been a beautiful planet until the Danaversians had come with their needless mission of conquest and terror. Saan gritted his teeth and swore that, no matter what it took, he would return with his Battalion to liberate this planet and return it to those whom it belonged to, not this rotting band of fishfaced Thugs who had thrown themselves against it.

As the vessels lifted into space, unopposed by the Danaversians until they reached orbit, where the Danaversians were at last engaging Barton's fleet above the planet's surface. Laser and phaser fire shot through space as Alversian and Danaversian fighters tore into each other. The last Merchant vessels and Transports were easily able to bypass the combat and shoot into transwarp, the vessel glowing green before it vanished.

Barton watched them go from the Catalan and smiled on a job well done. He nodded to his Flight Officer, ignoring the smirks of that damn Kitsune in the corner. The Alversian fleet quickly broke contact and headed into space. The Danaversians ignored them, satisfied with the occupation of the planet itself. Miller had finally fallen.

The casualties were heavy amongst the Alversians, nearly ten thousand casualties in both land and space battles. Luckily for the already stretched Alversian Navy, no losses had been suffered in terms of ships, a mere handful of fighters. The planet had been lost, but the battle had been won.

Lune, Xiscapia

"Yes, yes it was a tragedy," Emma smiled secretly to herself as she felt his squeeze her hand again. She was enjoying this time with him and even such morbid discussion could not dent her mood. She nodded as they reentered the complex grounds, her mind torn between the science she needed to return to in order to find a method of allowing Coalition FTL drives to operate where Danaversian and Boolean systems would not. The second thing she thought off was Ginta, the one she was starting to fall in love with. She hesitated to admit it, but now she could feel it.
"Back to the world of work eh?" She sighed, she enjoyed science, enjoyed the satisfaction of finding a solution to a previously unsolvable problem. However, at the moment, work was irritating her. She loathed to return.

Illesia City, Conference

"Now that everyone is introduced," Jones stated calmly, "We were discussing the plans for an offensive against the former Alversian ally of Ferra, a planet that has sadly decided to side with the Danaversians. Such a base so close to Alversia's core worlds cannot be tolerated and must be removed as soon as is possible."

Illesia City, Grand Admiral's Office

"Grand Admiral Krystal, Admiral Broten, I am glad that you have gotten back to me so quickly," She bowed to them both, "I am afraid that I have dire news of the war."
She paused for a moment as she tried to summon the energy to tell them of this news,
"The Midas Array at the edge of the Malacus System has been overrun by a Danaversian and Boolean fleet. This Array controls our long-range weapons all along the DMZ. If it has fallen then there is nothing stopping the Danaversians from assembling a fleet of thousands and swarming over our defences." She paused for a moment, a deep sigh,

"If the Array cannot be retaken my friends, then the war is over, at least for Alversia. It has to be retaken as soon as possible."

Transport...

Once on board Dui made her rounds, making sure the wounded were getting the medical care they needed and that no one was having some sort of breakdown or thousand-yard stare, pausing to murmur the occasional assurance to a soldier or compliment to an officer. The atmosphere was generally subdued, though not exactly gloomy, and one got the sense that the soldiers were resting and confining themselves to their own thoughts, with only the occasional conversation among the troops. Once she was satisfied, having checked up on the five thousand soldiers sitting, standing or lying around the large vessel she went to the beaming station with one intent in mind. Post-battle reports could wait, she had to see Green, not only to be with him, though the thought filled her with pleasure, but to help him prepare for the shitstorm he would inevitably be greeted with once he got back to the Motherland. Stepping up to the beaming station, she nodded to the operator and the atoms that comprised herself were shifted over to the ship containing the Setulanite section of the Joint Division, the young Colonel appearing there in a flash of light.

APS Catalan, Bridge...

"Ah, Admiral," it was that infernal kitsune again, eyes glittering, leaning on his cane, "I need to transmit a message to Xiscapia, if you don't mind. There's a dog that needs chaining," he smiled, but it was more like the bearing of teeth. Without even waiting for the Alversian's response he moved forward towards the Communications station, using his cane to ease aside the Ensign working at that console. "Shift thy bulk aside, I wish to drive." He grinned, sat down in the vacated seat, cane leaning against the bulkhead, and began to input commands with a speed that was startling for a non-Alversian trained person.

Lune, Xiscapia...

"Yes indeed," Ginta seemed happy to be getting back to the labs, his mind already on the work ahead. The government was trying to push Triad aside, something about a new shield network, and there was a small war of text going on between Xiscapian officials and Triad business executives as both sides tried to get Ginta to work on their technology. They had arrived outside the looming buildings, and just before the entrance Ginta stopped, turning to face Emma, the light reflecting off his black frame glasses. "But," his thumb caressed the back of her hand, "I enjoyed this time out. We should do it again sometime."

Tenfour, Xiscapia...

"The Xiscapian religion is rather exclusive, I'm afraid," she was sitting across from him, hands in her lap, eyes on his. "Much of it focuses on our lore, and the more practical areas are only useful to those with special gifts, although I am sure anyone can learn to obtain peace of mind though meditation, calm, rational reasoning and a tolerant attitude. The priests-" She broke off as the door to the cockpit opened, the co-pilot stepping though, holding a freshly printed dispatch in hand. "Message for the Ambassador, Mi'lady," he bowed to her, handing over the notice, and retreated back into the cockpit. The Empress glanced over it, then wordlessly handed the communique over to Marchamp:

It was stamped first with the symbol of the Alversian People's Navy, then with the Imperial seal of the Kitsune Empire, and read as follows:

Sir Prime Minister and Ambassador Zachary Marchamp,

As an observer, it has come to my attention that during the Battle of Miller one Colonel Green of the so-called Joint Division apparently experienced such a pang for his love at the rear of the warzone that he commandeered a vehicle and raced back to be with her, in the process leaving five thousand of his own countrymen, ten thousand troops under his command and fifteen thousand allied troops total to fend for themselves. Patently such behavior cannot be tolerated even by the more mediocre of the rabble that call themselves an organized military force, indeed you will be receiving a more formal though rather curt message from the APN below, so thus it should become evident to you that this sort of thing is simply not acceptable in a polite society, love or no love. No doubt this Colonel will be 'punished' under your own 'harsh and strict standards', but know that should this misfortune occur again, I may be forced to pay a personal visit to the Colonel myself, and he will not like it, and neither will you. As an aristocrat and a gentleman I have my own code of conduct, and thus I will abide my it from hereon, which, if any common louts need clarification, means that should this thick-headed man run in the face of battle again I will challenge him to a duel, kill him, and find a more fitting replacement.

Good day to you,

-Sir Urteil of the Những con hoang Bodominjärvi

And second piece of writing was underneath this:

TO: Whom it may concern,

First of all, congratulations must be in order for the successful evacuation of the planet Miller. That so many troops were able to fight their way through a Foe who was superior in number and firepower is a testament to the training, discipline and courage of all nations involved. However, while the achievement of the troops is to be commended, there was also a major incident involving the Commanding Officer of the Setulan 5th Republican Rifles, Colonel Green.

The report of our troops on the ground indicates that Colonel Green retreated from the frontlines in premature to his troops withdrawal. While his intentions may not have been malicious, the fact that he willingly left 5,000 combat troops alone against the enemy is a disturbing sign from a Commanding Officer. Reports from the line indicate that Green was also in direct command of the Xiscapian Marines following a loss of contact with Headquarters. This is even more disturbing that he was willing to abandon the troops of an Ally who has trusted him to make decisions and to lead them to safety by both physical effort and example. His absence from the frontlines was noted as Lieutenant Colonel Saan of the Alversian 603rd Infantry Battalion was forced to take command of all three forces, placing him in command of the entire withdrawing force.

While the People's Army will not pretend to know how the Setulan Army works in protocol or training, the sign that an Officer is willing to desert his men in the heat of battle is an example that cannot be tolerated at any level in the Army. Therefore, the Alversian People's Army formally requests that Colonel Green be tried within a Setulan Military Court Martial for the crimes of deserting in the face of the enemy and for failing his duties as a senior Officer.
We regret that this issue must be brought up after such an inspirational maneuver, but when Officers set a bad example, it sets a dangerous precedent for others in all Armies who look to these men for leadership.

Yours Sincerely

Field Marshall Michael Davidson

Illesia City, Conference...

"As has been stated, a task force consisting of the Observer XIW Freedom, the Asteroid ship XIW Pebble and the Korr Battleship XIW Fury, commanded by Flotilla Captain Gurge, will assist any Coalition forces in destroying or forcing a retreat on the enemy," Sor reeled off as though reading from a script.

"And the Five Hundred Eleventh Grand Army Battalion under Lieutenant Colonel Vin, with a LAM platoon, a HAM platoon, and two Supermecha fighting platforms in support, will also be dispatched to clean up on the ground." Genko repeated.

XINHQ, Krystal's Office...

"I have two fleets available for such an operation," Krystal said professionally after a moment of consultation. "About twenty capitals and twenty support vessels. What will the rest of the Coalition be committing to the fray?"

Transport

Green wandered around, touring his men as it were. The wounded were being taken care of by the excellent medical staff brought along, but even so, the loss...
He sighed lightly. He was probably going to be court marshalled and, if lucky, be kicked out of the army with nothing else but a dishonorable discharge. If he was unlucky, he would experience the wonders of forced labor, turning big rocks into little rocks and whitewashing boulders...but he couldn't find it in him to care.
His madcap ride, if nothing else, had surely helped to save the troops on that hill. The extra firepower he and Yesho had brought had helped repulse the Danaversians, but he honestly just didn't care about the termination of his career anymore. He had kept Dui alive.
A flash, barely registered in the corner of his eye, made his head turn.
"Colonel," he said happily, "How wonderful to see you."

Tenfour

The way the communiques were handed over, Marchamp recieved the official complaint from the Alverisans first. He frowned slightly as he read, shaking his head in a resigned fashion.
"The bloody fool," he said sadly. "He had a hell of a career in front of him, too. Did brilliantly fighting guerillas in the mountains, personally decorated by Maxellian after a boarding action, decorated after the assault on Colony 1. He was number one one the General's promotion list. It will be a shame to..." He stopped speaking. His eyes narrowed. To most, it would seem that nothing changed, but to the Empress, schooled in intrigue, a neon light flashing "rage" might as well have appeared above his head.
Displaying admirable self control, Marchamp folded the letter in half.
Mediocre rabble? Common lout? He smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes.
"If I might ask, Empress, who is Sir Urteil of the Những con hoang Bodominjärvi?" Before I kill him myself.
Sir Urteil might not care, thought Marchamp, but he had just let Green walk away scott free, for he, too, had a code of conduct...and in that code, nobody threatened one of his fellow citizens with impunity. And no fuedal noble who had the arrogance to presume they could dictate orders to one of the most powerful men in the Setulan system would ever get an inch out of a man who had starved for two weeks because he refused to surrender.

Illesia, Conference

Durmel nodded.
"I defer completely to my Alversian counterparts on fleet tactics. As for the ground campaign, 7th Army consists of three fast moving divisions that can be used to either force a breech or exploit one, with a heavy focus on mobile artillery and armor."

Veto, Broten's Quarters

The gaunt faced Admiral smiled without moving his lips. He would have a chance to kill the bastards after all.
"I can commit my task force. One of our battleships, with multiple cruisers and escorts." He frowned slightly. "I would commit more, but the senate worries about an attack on the home system." The frown deepened.
"I fear that this is all moot, Admirals, if we have no way to counter the Boolean shield weapons. I would not like to repeat what happened to Eternal Pain."

Lune City, Xiscapia

Emma blushed deeply at Ginta's show of affection, not making eye contact and smiling lightly at this unexpected sign. She walked with him into the Compound again, walking past the Scientists of Triad Corporation, nodding to them in greeting. It was true that there was a certain level of respect between the two groups, if not occasional co-operation and joviality. However, for the most part, they were rivals and opponents. Each trying to reduce the other's influence in the weapons and military sectors. It was a war of texts and the Scientists were the footsoldiers, their research the weapons. For most of the time it was a deadlock, though occasionally one would reveal a top secret project that would leave the other reeling. However, even this would only last a couple of weeks before the other would reply with some other form of groundbreaking technology that would set the balance back into equality. She herself had been offered a lot of money by Triad to come and work for her, her being a leading expert in Faster than Light technology and it's physical affects. However, she had always been an Academic first and foremost. Coming from a wealthy background meant that money was no reward her for. She preferred the satisfaction of a job well done.

With that in mind, she went back to work on the Faster Than Light indiction drive that was so eluding her. She sighed in frustration at the calculations, trying to see the link that would see this problem solved. Ginta was already gone, back into his own world of scientists and maths. She, on the other hand, was struggling to keep herself on the job, trying to think of the damned FTLi drive. "Perhaps I could bring Ginta to the fields of Ryan just outside my father's home? No. Wrong thoughts." She shook her head in an attempt to clear it. "No, back to these calculations." She looked at the board, "If I take the drag co-effecient of the Jaunt Drive and divide it into the bandwidth of the Transwarp...I do take him to the Ryan Fields then I'll need to open the gate, it always gets stuck in that Qonndamned quag...hold on.'
It came to her like a bolt of lightening, that flash of inspiration that steered countless thousands of Scientists to the discoveries of a lifetime. Emma had had that inspiration. She quickly began to cross out calculations and add new ones in, writing with such a fervour, finally seeing the pieces fit into place and the information she needed finally there.
"Ginta," She called in trepidation, praying that she had found everything to be correct. It looked right to her, but she could be blinded by her optimism.

Only one way to find out.

Conference

"Excellent," The Admiral nodded, "The tactics for the battle in orbit will be decided once we know for certain the numbers and and formations that the Danaversians are employing. As for the ground offensive, detailed plans will be broadcast to you all momentarily. Suffice to say that we will be using speed to move through to the Capital via to the two main fortress towns. If they are under our control, then the Prime Minister will have no where to run to and will remain in the Capital. I am also reliably informed that there are...Mercenaries..." He said the word with distaste, "that are making moves to bring us information on the Ferran Military and it's deployment plans. These will be made available as soon as possible." There was another pause, "So, Gentlemen, I propose we gather at Dela as soon as possible, in preparation for the operation. Any questions?" He asked.

Admiral's Office

"Ah," Ashe smiled, "I have the solution to that problem." She tapped something out of view and brought up long lists of data referring to shields and frequencies and, at the bottom, a simple number of corrections that would make sense to any shield engineer,
"I recieved these from the Alumina just an hour ago," She explained, "I would have sent them earlier but present circumstances demanded my attention. I am reliably informed that the harmonics on the bottom of each of your data will render your vessels impervious to the Stinger's energy draining weapons. It will only work while the shields are up of course, but it shall allow us to confront the Booleans and Danaversians with some form of equality." She was unsmiling, "I believe that we total close to eighty ships. It will be a tough battle but we can persevere."
"We must persevere." She thought to herself.

Transport...

Dui didn't respond immediately with words, the petite Xiscapian simply hugging the Setulanite close, tail wrapping around his legs, face close to his. She could see that only now, out of the line of fire and safe, was Green realizing exactly the ramifications his actions would have. "I've looked over the casualties..." She hesitated only a moment. "Two hundred and eleven dead or MIA, close to a thousand WIA." She ached to be with him, but now was neither the time nor place, especially not under the circumstances. "Have you reviewed your own troops?"

APS Catalan, Bridge...

Casting one leg out from over the other, Urteil stood, rapping his cane on the deck and vacating the seat of the Communications station for the Dreadnought. "You may resume," he told the slightly miffed Comms Officer, strolling casually over to Barton. And thus things have been put right once again...how weary I am of cleaning up the messes of others. Imagine, a gentleman doing a maid's work, except now the dust and filth comes in a living form. "Ah, might I inquire as to the estimated time of arrival at the hub of the single civilized nation in a hundred lightyears?" He asked the Admiral. It would take the man a moment to realize the kitsune was talking about Xiscapia.

Shuttle, Xiscapia...

The Empress was silent for a moment, wincing at the unintentional mangling of the Xiscapian words in the Prime Minister's mouth. "Những con hoang Bodominjärvi translates roughly into Galactic Common as 'The Bastards of Bodom'. They are an ancient secret society within the Kitsune Empire, thought to predate the Korr Wars; no one but them know their exact numbers, location, or even what their purpose is. They've never been successfully tied to anything illegal or unethical, but several powerful Xiscapians of note, including Sir Urteil, were or are a part of the organization. They harbor the organization know as The Five, which I understand Sir Urteil is also a member of, a sort of vigilante group founded by the Emperor's nephew, Prince Silvertooth, that deals independently of the Xiscapian government in foreign states, organizations and individuals that interest them, usually to a violent or hostile capacity."

She was quiet again, dark eyes unreadable, before continuing.

"Sir Urteil is a very powerful, exceedingly wealthy Xiscapian aristocrat who can trace his noble bloodline as far back as the First Transformation, or so he claims. As his involvement in organizations like the Những con hoang Bodominjärvi and The Five might indicate, he frequently takes an interest in affairs outside the borders of the Kitsune Empire, especially in foreigners who are in a good position to help or hurt Imperial interests, and by proxy, his own. He is quite old, over a century since his birth now, and he's made a great deal of friends and enemies during that time here. While those he considers opponents often end up dead, Sir Urteil is by no means an assassin: He will challenge a foe to an old-style duel, and kill him or her if they accept. However, I have seen that he prefers not to involve himself directly with such business, instead using his ties and contacts to get what he wants without resorting to...bloodshed." Jade sniffed. "He's a very Old World gentleman, eccentric in some ways, but he can be very dangerous. He's not one you want as an enemy," she gestured to the letter, "for this is no idle bluff. No doubt he saw the actions of your Colonel as dishonoring the troops he fought alongside, and sought to avenge that, in the fashion typical of a detached gentleman."

Imperial Labs Raven...

"Hmm?" Ginta looked up from his computer workstation, where he had assembled a striking 3-D model of some device or another. In the background the assistants were busy using the prototype R.E.A.P.E.R to destroy everything from pens to desks to potted plants in the testing range. The brilliant scientist walked over to where Emma was working, squinting though his glasses, the combination of the coat, his pale skin, dark hair and frame eyepieces making him look like an old Bolshevik revolutionary. "By Qonn," he breathed after a time. "You've done it, Emma! Eureka!" He grabbed her hands, squeezing them with profound joy, excitement shining in his eyes. "Those are the specifications we need for a Coalition-wide Faster-Than-Light inhibitor field!"

Conference...

Admiral Sor and Major General Genko glanced at each other, but neither had any further questions. The groundwork had been laid: Any other kinks would be worked out by the operation commanders beforehand, or on the ground. Sor shook his head. "No further concerns, Admiral."

XINHQ...

Krystal murmured something to her aide in Xiscapian, gesturing to the long scrolls of numbers being transmitted from the APN office. "Có các sao chép và gửi đến mỗi fleet Admiral, Captain và các trạm quân về hoạt động nhiệm vụ, họ có thực hiện được chỉ định ngay lập tức trong tất cả các tần số shielded tàu và trang thiết bị mà không có ngoại lệ."

The aide nodded and bowed. "Có Grand Admiral." He replied before hurrying off.

The Xiscapian Grand Admiral turned back to the screen. "Have the Belkans been informed?"

Transport

Green wrapped the small kitsune in his arms and squeezed her too him. He, too was simply enjoying what contact he could after a stressful action that had almost killed them both. Only now, after almost losing Dui, did he realize how much the Xiscapian had come to mean to him.
I do love her, he thought with a small bit of surprise. Well, come what may, he was willing to hold on to that. His next thought was somewhat amusing-what would his dear old mother think?
Any amusing notions quickly left his head, and he sighed.
"264 killed in action. 1026 wounded, ninety in critical care surgery as we speak-the doctors don't know if they'll make it yet." His voice, momentarily full of sorrow, took a hard edge. "And gods only know how many of the slimy bastards we killed."
He looked down at himself. He hadn't yet had a chance to change out of his blood-spattered clothes, and they were the worse for wear at the moment. A half dozen scorch marks decorated the armor from glancing hits and one that had been miraculously stopped right over his heart. He shook his head.
"If you would follow me to my stateroom, Colonel, we could speak in private." Realizing the conotations of what he had meant to be a completely non-sexual comment, the corner of his mouth twitched up in what was almost a smile. "I imagine we have a bit to talk about."

Shuttle, Xiscapia

Marchamp sighed. No knives in the knight to fix the problem, then.
"Well, you can assure him that he may rest easy-I will settle the problem as it needs to be settled. Though I think," he said with a wry grin, "That I will refrain from telling Colonel Green about the threat to his person. He might take it personally." The ambassador sat back thoughtfully and tucked the communique away into a pocket.
"I believe, Empress, you were about to tell me about the priests of Qonn?"

Conference

Durmel shook his head.
"No." A grim smile was on his face now. "Let's go kill some amphibians."

Broten's Quarters

Broten recieved the frequencies and gave them a cursory look. He had always been a weapons man-shields were another part of his proffession that he left to the experts. He snapped his fingers, the sound like a gunshot, and an aide ran over.
"Run these through and make sure they work," he said quietly. He turned back to the screen to hear the answer. He had only heard shadowy rumors about these Belkans, and was curious if they would commit to the combat seriously.

Conference
"I agree," said Horan. "I can send for Belkan ground troops to assist in the battle if need be. We already have a small ground force, but it seems that more troops would help this situation."

APS Catalan

"About an hour Sir," The Flight Officer replied, as Barton did not know directly and was not going to find out for the sake of this irritating upstart. This would be the last time a Kitsune Noble came aboard his bridge.

Research Centre

Emma took his hands in hers, enjoying the attention she was getting from Ginta, though it was more the discovery that was inspiring his delight than her personally. She wanted his attention to be on her rather than her discovery, though she knew the importance of the new technology. She had developed a method to divert the Danaversian and Boolean Faster than Light Drives without stopping the other members of the Coalition, permitting the Coalition to strike at any Danaversian Planet without fear of retaliation from Local forces or reinforcements closing in from elsewhere in the Empire. A notewhile discovery,
"Now that we've developed the theory," She sighed happily, "We need to build a device to operate it, then build a ship to put it in." She sighed, that could take months if work was not started immediately.

Conference

"Then, Gentlemen, we shall gather our forces on Dela and await the word to strike from our Spies on the ground. Until then Gentlemen. Admiral Horan, you are needed on another channel, I shall patch you through" The Admiral cut the link and relayed Admiral Horan so he was speaking in the conversation with the other Admirals.

Admiral's Office

"The Belkans will be joining us momentarily," She stopped as the image of Admiral Horan flashed onto her screen, "Welcome Admiral, we were discussing a serious threat to the Alversian War effort and We are wondering what the Belkan Navy will be capable of commiting to the fleet to deal with this threat?"

Conference
"A Belkan armada of 200 ships could be here within a week, with an additional 100 within a month. Total commitment of our forces would more than quadruple these numbers, but I am afraid there is some domestic hesitance to pledge ourselves to that extent for the cause of another," said Horan. His face turned more grave than usual. "We have been more or less isolationists outside of our own system, a trend our current Emperor is looking to reverse. This would be far easier if the Imperium were have some tangible motivation in terms of territory. A system, planet, or even rich asteroid belt would do wonders to motivate Belka's populace towards the Coalition's cause. I know that the Danversians and the Boolians captured many systems during this war, in addition to their already fair holdings. If a taste of this territory was to be given to the Belkans, the situation would greatly improve."

Nova Max

The capital was in a lockdown. Miller had fallen, and the Berrax Republic had no doubt who was next on the Danaversian conquering list. Callin ordered full scale mobilization underway, though unofficially the country had been mobilized for war for months now. The navy was concerned about the lack of numbers in their navy but at least the navy was boosted by former Greal corporations who did not wish to see the Danaversians rule. Planetary defenses were prepped up by former Greali weapons and a few things invented by the Berraxs themselves. But if the whole might of the Danaversian Empire was about to fall on the Berraxs, the Berraxs would need help. Callin immediately sent off messages to the Coalition, right after the fall of Miller, pleading for supplies, defensive weapons, and even a few ships if they could spare any. The Berraxs looked nervously to space and wondered when the enemy would come.

Transport...

After a quick glance around at the Setulanite troops, Dui retreated with Green to his personal quarters, smiling grimly to herself. Normally her next action would be to rip off her uniform and make hot, sweaty love to who she had come to think of as a man who had started out as a comrade, friend and partner and was now her significant other, but these were not normal times. Nearly twenty five hundred casualties in the Joint Division alone was a somber matter, and Green's wild run across the battlefield that had no doubt attracted the attention of some very high-up people only compounded the problem, but the real issue was that they had been forced back. The entire Greali Empire had crumbled, Pamp had fallen, Miller had been taken, the armada at Havalia had been bloodily repulsed, and Danaversian Shoals and Boolean fleets were poised to sweep across the Coalition in an unstoppable wave that would perhaps not be stopped even at the gates of Xiscapia, Setulan Prime, Alversia, Nova Max, Belkaros or any other Coalition home world. For all their power the great Navies of the Coalition were helpless, unable to push back the assault, their only recourse to run and try to save as many civilians as they could from the onrushing tide. Even if the situation did, by some miracle, turn around, Dui knew the war would be decided on the ground as much as it would be in space, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Joint Division was the most powerful multi-purpose surface fighting unit in the Coalition.
They were the ones here to be the rocks against which the Danaversian tide would break, framed against the ruddy light of the Dawn of War.

"What happened on the surface," the XGA colonel said quietly, "like I said, I'll do my best with my superiors, but it's really in the hands of your Ambassador. There's no use in talking about it," she turned her bright orange eyes on Green, "I know why you did it. And I'm grateful; I only hope I'd have the courage and tenacity to do the same, if our positions were reversed." She kissed him lightly on the lips and stood back, sinking with a tired sigh into one of the chairs.

Imperial Labs, Raven...

Ginta tapped his fingers against the desk, excitement still radiating from him. "A device, certainly, no doubt the XIN will be eager to have them put into production. As for ships to carry them," he shrugged, "while I'm certainly capable of designing one, that'll be a project for Nakamoto Dockyards, or one of the other companies that constructs starships, if they see the need. We've got to concentrate on making this," he pointed to her work, "a reality."

Xiscapia, Outskirts of Rio Casa...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e9SbzVbpgMA

"I believe, Empress, you were about to tell me about the priests of Qonn?"

Jade smiled. "Why would I tell you about them," the unloading ramp of the shuttle hissed open across the cabin, allowing frigid air and a mournfully whistling wind to enter, exposing a landscape of snow and frosted trees under a steel sky, a large structure a dozen yards away, "when I can show you?" She stood, holding out an arm for him to slip his though, her tail curling up around her waist for warmth, gesturing to the outside. The building Marchamp had noticed was in fact a huge cathedral-like building (http://lumpling.deviantart.com/art/The-Cathedral-in-the-Snow-112454091), trees dwarfed by the magnificent towers huddling together in a dark forest in the background. Aside from the wind and their footsteps crunching across the snow there was no sound, the temple rising up over them in silent watchfulness, a looming guard of the holy secrets contained inside. Before the massive, solid oak doors stood a Homo Vulpes kitsune dressed in orange and red robes (http://www.jediknightii.net/graphx/characters/ch_reborn.jpg), the hood arranged in such a way that his eyes could not be seen, a thurible dangling from his hands.

"Don't speak until I indicate you can," Jade whispered to the Ambassador. "I will comment via telepathy from here until we meet the High Priest. You must follow my lead, do exactly as I do: The Church is forgiving, but it will raise you up in their eyes if you do not use ignorance as an excuse for rudeness."

As Jade and Marchamp approached the priest silently turned and, without any movement or signal from him, the huge doors both creaked open on oiled hinges. The Gatekeeper, Marchamp heard Jade's soft, melodious voice in his head, guardian of this Church. You can enter only with his permission, or by defeating him in combat. The space beyond was gloomy, but the Setulanite would see a small flash of light as the incense inside the thurible was lit, the odor of lilacs, sandalwood and scented smoke filling his nostrils. The priest slowly began to swing the thurible back and forth from right to left in a small arc, treading slowly and purposefully away into the darkness. Marchamp would get the sense of stepping into a huge space, unseen in the dim light, his only points of reference as the doors shut behind him the Empress beside him, one arm linked around his, and the shadowy priest ahead.

There came a single drumbeat from the darkness and abruptly the interior flared into light. As his eyes adjusted to the change in illumination Marchamp would see a vast, high ceilinged chamber, tall windows on both immediate sides. The floor was made of tightly packed stone of a greenish-tan color, the blocks four feet wide and long, extending away to the foot of a stairway. The stairway dominated the space ahead, ten feet wide and climbing onward and upward to some indeterminable point in the murk, made of the same rock as the floors. The sides of this stairway was lined with monks in the same orange robes as their guide, all having three things in common: While they consisted of both races of kitsune, they all appeared to be male, their hoods covered their eyes but left the rest of their face exposed, and every one was holding a candlestick with a wax candle burning in it, the source of the light. They were as endless at the stairs: There must have been dozens.

On either side of the stairs were two platforms, carved into the walls flanking it in the rock, and both of these sat a set of large drums and gongs. A kitsune, stripped to the chest, one Homo Vulpes heavily tattooed with twisting dragons and Xiscapian script covering his torso, the other a Vulpes Vulpes with swirling patterns in his fur, attended to them, each holding a large beater. As the Gatekeeper led them towards the stairs the two began to beat the drums in measured beats that Marchamp could feel in his chest as much as he could hear them, heavy beats on the largest drum that covered an entire wall, and shorter ones on the accompanying complimentary ones alongside. They reached the base of the stairs and there came a deep, throaty hum from the priests on both sides, a sort of reverberating noise that rose and fell in pitch in harmony to the drumbeats. It is a hymn to Qonn, our god, came Jade, lifting up our thanks and praise, sorrow and sadness, pride and joy and peace among all things.

They were about halfway up the staircase when the chant slowly faded out, and Marchamp noticed a slight change in the priests that greeted them here. They were, for the large part, smaller, hands and what features that could be seen softer and more delicate, and even the robes could not hide the swell of the chest in some of them. His suspicions were confirmed as they began their own chant, a lower, more constant noise, definitely made by females. As this happened two of the priestesses detached from the ranks and stepped in front of the two visitors, one holding a small wooden bowl filled with some slate-colored substance, humming all the while. Kneel, came Jade, we are to be anointed for protection in this place. The Empress herself fell down on both knees on the steps, raising her head to the holy women as the lead priest stood silently nearby, still swinging his thurible.

As Marchamp did the same he noticed the priestess dip her fingers into the vessel and she made some motions over Jade's face; he could not see what from his angle beside her. A moment later she was standing before him, crooning softly, fingers reaching out to brush back any bangs he had and touching his forehead. He felt a cold sensation there as she made several movements over his skin with what he realized was ashes, and the cool, slightly heavy, pleasant feeling did not leave as she stood back, making way for them to continue. Glancing over at the Empress, he would see a symbol had been made on her forehead, a simple circle with a wavy line bisecting the middle, with a dot on one side and a small ring on the other, one half streaked with black, the other only colored with the pure white of her skin. She smiled at him lightly as they kept following the Gatekeeper and he realized he must have an identical sign placed upon him.

The drum beats were more rhythmic now, a three-tone sound, and the priestesses were louder, a sort of constant, wavering voice with no words. It was incredible beautiful, a perfect balance between the voices and the more primeval thuds of the beaters on the drums, like nothing Marchamp had ever heard before. He could see now, at the top of the stairs, was a purple veil pulled across a boxy chamber, with priestesses lined up all the way to it but none directly in front, with two guttering torches on either side of the entryway. Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity, they reached it, their leader vanishing inside without so much as a glance in their direction. Wait. the Empress said to him, standing with her arms folded inside her robes, no longer linked to him, watching the doorway.

XINHQ...

"The Kitsune Empire may be able to do something to assist you in that area," said Grand Admiral Krystal to the Belkan. "I am not diplomat, but if you could perhaps have a representative contact the Imperial Palace, there may be a way for Belkaros to acquire territory though the Coalition by the end of this conflict."

She fell silent, thinking about what an enormous help even an additional fifty warships would be. The Intergalactic Imperial Navy of Greal no longer existed, almost all of it had been obliterated when Nova Reginix fell, the Observers of the Communist State of Calaverias were next to worthless against the heavier Danaversian vessels, all contact had been lost with the Greywatchers, Setulanite naval operations this side of the Coalition had been crippled by the loss of the Eternal Pain and much of her accompanying Task Force, the Alumina would lend not vessels to the Coalition and tied up many of their ships in raid operations, and the Alversian People's Navy, like the Xiscapian Imperial Navy, was stretched thin as it was. The Coalition was suffering badly, and it could perhaps be the commitment of the Belkan military that would put things back in their favor.

"With all due respect, Admiral," she spoke to Horan, tired green eyes fixed on him, "if the Coalition falls, the Imperium of Belkaros will be sure to be next, after the Danaversian's humiliating defeat at Alversia. You have seen the massive fleets the Danaversians have been able to assemble, the alien technology of the Booleans: Belkaros might hold out for a year, for five, for fifty, but it won't hold forever against the hordes. By getting involved in the war, you've committed yourselves, the Danaversians won't forgive and forget: We're you're best bet at ending the threat of these warmongers once and for all. Send every ship you can," she nodded to him, "or you may later find Danaversian Shoals pouring into your space, and you will have no one to turn to, and nowhere to run."

Imperial Palace...

TO: The Republic of the Berrax, Nova Max
FROM: The Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia, Xiscapia

While the Kitsune Empire cannot spare any warships at this time, it can increase its already considerable shipments of weapons to the Republic, as well as food and medical supplies and battle armor. The Kitsune Empire will also be sending along a FTLi field generator (covers a distance of two AU) and a planetary shield generator, but be warned: When the inhibitor field is in use it will also block any Coalition attempts to relieve or resupply your forces, and when the planetary shield is online any physical objects larger than a missile caught outside will not be able to penetrate until the shield is deactivated- even your own warships.

Our hopes and prayers for the Berrax people and government during these troubled times,
-Ambassador Vorn

OOC-Jeeeezus Xis, first pictures now music? What's next? I enjoy it though.

Conference
"The Greal's navy is... gone?" asked Horan, obviously shaken. "This is news to me, and perhaps the Empire. This changes everything. I will do what I can to..."

The transmission cut out, and the screen simply showed a Belkan flag for a few seconds. Then video feed cut back, though Horan was no longer on screen. A man, no older than 35, in an elegant yet simple Maoist uniform was on screen in his place. He smiled and spoke.

"Esteemed Coalition leaders, forgive the theatrics. I am Emperor Julius Mundus of Belkaros. I knew things were dire, but I did not truly appreciate the danger of the situation. The destruction of the Greal is shocking." he paused, looked at something off screen, and continued, "I will send all but our domestic defense craft at once to Alversia. The full strength of the Belkan military will be at your disposal. The matter of territory can be hashed out after we are victorious. At present, I am sending via my fleet's Hermes Gate an asteroid command center and CONYARD facility, which will help establish a Belkan presence in system. Static defense platforms, transports and warships will be able to be brought in much more quickly. By the end of the Belkan Standard calendar month, there will be 1200 fresh warships in your system. I must go consult with my advisers and staff, but know that help is on the way. Thank you for your time."

With that, the screen cut back to Horan, who looked rather stunned.
"Well, gentlemen, there you have it," he said, "I am to be in command of these new forces as well. Admiral Krystal, if you could send me the co-ordinates to the palace, I will send someone right away."

Transport

Green slowly sank down into a chair of his own opposite hers. Idly, he thanked whoever it was that had decided the highest ranking officer of a friendly power deserved a room as large as a generals.
"I know, Dui. Moreover, I'm not that concerned. Like I said, it was worth it." He smiled a little at her. "As I said, I'm not that worried. First of all, Marchamp is one hell of a guy; if anybody would let me off the hook, it's him. For another, I was personally decorated by President Maxellian; I have a distinguished past career; and I am the most senior surviving officer in Setulan who has fought the Danaversians and seen them face-to-face. For all that, I think I'll get away without courtmartial. Now, my rank..." he smiled slightly. "That, I'm not so sure of. I wouldn't mind being a company commander again, those were good days. I honestly don't care as long as I'm still near you."

Xiscapia, Outskirts of Rio Casa

Marchamp followed around, shooting interested looks at everything around him without saying a word. Having a voice in his head was slightly disconcerting, but he was having too much of a good time to care.
For one thing, there was absolutely nothing on Setulan that could compare to this. Oh, it had its share of wonders, but even the Emperors (who considered themselves gods) had a palace as grand, as truly inspiring as this one was. He began to get an inkling of the scope and power of this church in Xiscapia. He nodded thoughtfully. This was interesting indeed.
Patiently, he waited next to the Empress for whatever would happen next.

Broten's Quarters

Broten's face was a blank mask throughout the entire episode with the Belkans. Behind his facade, however, was an entirely different story.
Imperialst swine! Emperor-loving bastards! Ambitious animals! Is this what we have sunk to? Allying ourselves to that which we are sworn to fight?
Imperials. To the average citizen on Setulan, there was nothing worse than an Imperial country, run by an Emperor, with territorial ambitions. Setulan had fought for ten bloody and drawn out years to rid itself of that particular cancer, and to ally itself with more Imperials was nauseating. Broten wanted to spit.
Still impassive, his mind worked furiously. Maxellian must know immediately; of that there was no question. Fortunately, the entire conference was recorded, and the record had to be sent to him as soon as possible. That said, the combat power of these Belkans was undeniable, and until Maxellian managed to push the Elders into releasing more ships, the coallition was strapped for manpower. Still cursing furiously in his head, Broten conceded that they were needed...for the time.
One day, Horan, thought Broten. One day, your people will rise up, and you and your Emperor will be cast down.

OOC: Um, Set...you say this when you have a diplomat inside the Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia, when your Ambassador resides in the Imperial Palace of Xiscapia with the Emperor and Empress? Missed something, have we? :tongue:

BTW, like I tell Al, Belk, art takes time, and I want the experience to be as complete as possible, so you can get a good mental vision of it all, even if that includes music to hear. Of course, as Al says, "If time = art then what takes you so long to post?" But that's another story. ;)

ooc-Ah, but you forget the differences!

The number one issue for Broten (and Setulans as a whole) would be that Horan specifically said his reason for going to war is to get new territory. That would bring back bad memories.

Secondly, lo those many posts ago, when Admiral Lintel and Maxellian spoke, the government was described as Democratic Imperial, as compared to just Imperial, with elections at all levels of government except the top. This is compared to the seemingly absolute Empire of Belkaros (If I'm wrong, Belk, please correct me, but this is my impression from your posts).

Thirdly, and I think this is most important...
The Belkans did not come out of the blue in response to a distress call from an embattled Setulan colony like the proverbial cavalry to kick the asses of Kewen invaders who, by the way, also blew up the planet, and the only reason anybody survived is because of Xiscapians.

I feel like they would forgive alot for that. =)

OOC- Just to clarify, Belkaros has a parliamentary system with open elections and an elected prime minister. Each planet is governed by either a clone emperor or an elected Emperelli, which in turn reports to a regional senate, which reports to the homeworld. Individual rights are almost unobstructed by the government, though the political side is a bit more oppressed. Admittedly, Belkaros is ravenous for new territory. This is based on my actual NS ranking btw.

Lune

"Yes," Emma was also excited to the point of fevour pitch. She was delighted by both the discovery she had made and the attention that Ginta was showering on her. His pleasure translated into pleasure for her, as she had always enjoyed seeing him so animated, taking so much enjoyment from his work. Her mind barely focused on the main issue at hand. The theory was there, the knowledge that such a device would work. Now a proposal needed to be placed at the Grand Navy's Headquarters, approval had to be given and a device had to be built and programmed. She would have to do the programming herself, seeing as no one else could forsee any problems with the calculations she had made and, more importantly, no one would see any mistakes unless she herself was there to make sure that everything went according to plan.
"What do we do now?" She asked Ginta, tail curling slightly. She had been about to call him 'Darling' until she realised there was actually nothing in it yet. They were just friends, she thought with a forlorn sigh,
Just friends.

Illesia City, Conference

"Admiral, your contribution to the immediate war effort is much appreciated and yes, the Greali were defeated some time ago by the Danaversian Empire in a pitched battle inside their own space. Their homeworld was then destroyed by...unknown methods. She scowled slightly, she knew exactly how it had happened. She listened as the Emperor himself of the Belkan Empire explained his People's involvement. She almost gasped aloud but managed to restrain herself, Over one thousand ships!? The number was incredible, it could solve the Coalition's Immediate manpower trouble with relatively few problems. Of course, later in the war, there would be other problems with manpower but, for the moment, that was more than enough,
"The People's Navy shall be dispatching the Second, Seventh and Ninth Fleets to retake the array," the Hybrid Admiral explained, "Together, it's over sixty ships. Are there are questions with regards to the operation?" She asked calmly.

Outside Zillar Space

The lone Barracuda drifted easily and slowly through space, transmitting the same message over and over again using a secure bandwidth so that no one else could pick up the message,
Attention any Zillar Vessels, this is the Danaversian Warship Bxandara and we have a proposition from the Makeira for you...
The proposal would not be good for the Coalition, that was sure.

At the same time, the number of ships along the Berrax border increased significantly. Where there had been only a few vessels, there were now three perhaps four times more than that. They were also getting more aggressive with Berrax ships crossing the border, stopping Merchant ships, turning them back and facing off with Warships.

OOC: Just checking :D

Transport...

Dui smiled at Green's words. "Thanks," she said after a moment, "if you're close to me, I'll at least be able to watch your back, and vice versa." She chuckled. "But if you're still assigned near me, you gotta promise: No more running off. In my direction or otherwise." She grinned, teasing him.

Imperial Labs, Raven...

"I..." Ginta looked from the monitor to Emma, ears perking slightly. "Well, now we alert Major Grimske, and he'll take on the issue of getting it approved, patented, and into production, most likely under your supervision. Then..." He hesitated, black hair swaying. It was like he wanted to say something, but didn't quite know how to say it, and therefore covered the awkwardness with talk. "Uhh..." He glanced down, shy, not knowing what was wrong with him: At any other time such a revelation would have had him excited and working well into the night, troubleshooting and reviewing the code and specifics, but suddenly he felt like it was time for a celebration. But not just any party, and not just with anyone, and yet, for all his knowledge, Doctor Ginta, author of over a hundred scientific papers on subjects ranging from theoretical weapons and FTL methods, electrical engineering, xenobiology and beaming technology, leading scientist on the Jaunt Drive project when it was finally completed, hailed as one of the greatest scientists in the entire Kitsune Empire, did not know how to ask a girl out. He had never actually asked a female for a date before, and, in his mind, the recent excursion to the cafe didn't count: That had been a meeting between colleagues.
But the urge was there nonetheless, if poorly articulated.

Church...

As they stood there on the top steps, twenty feet high in the air, candle and torch light causing shadows to play on the rock walls the voices of the priests died away, leaving only the drumbeats. The Xiscapian on Marchamp's left was hitting his drums with deliberation, his whole body shaking as his beater struck the old hide spread across the body of the instrument, shoulders and back slick and shiny with sweat. Finally, he and his partner across the room ceased their playing, laying their sticks down and standing, sentinel like, by the sets, seeming to wait too. The sudden silence was unnerving after all the noise: The sound of the wind was blocked by the heavy, thick walls, and the priests didn't seem to be inclined to move or even breath, and all was quiet and utterly still but for the flicking flames of the lights.

After a short time the Gatekeeper reappeared, drawing back the curtain, his thurible nowhere to be seen. The Xiscapian bowed to both the Empress and Marchamp in turn and stood aside, away from the doorway, a clear indication that they should go inside.

The interior of the room was dim, the only source of light a single dim lamp set in the middle of the room, a fire dancing inside the black wood and beige rice paper container. The walls were made of the same rock as the rest of the church, and bare save for a large mirror on the far side. However, instead of displaying reflections, the mirror showed only shadowed, smoky imitations of forms, indistinct and almost shapeless, tiny glimmers of light of all shades and hues occasionally appearing for an instant at the heart of a mass of black before winking away into nothing, a transfixing, mystifying display. On the floor there lay several rugs in muted colors, seeming very old and worn though in good condition, and one these, opposite each other and not looking at the visitors, sat two kitsune.

The first, sitting with his legs crossed on the left, looked unimaginably ancient, skin wrinkled and furrowed, a long, trimmed beard extending all the way to the floor, tail and fox ears a pure, unblemished white. He wore robes so blue they were almost black and a katana sword sat behind him, reflecting dully in the dank illumination. The other appeared far younger, a kitsune (http://www.furaffinity.net/view/187919/) dressed in black robes Marchamp might recognize if he had been issued a report from the operation on Terracropolis, kneeling on a mat, a thick, solid book with gilded pages and a golden cover laid open before him, odd writing that seemed to shift away from the eye when one tried to read it covering the pages. Unlike the former he looked directly at both visitors when they entered, yellow eyes bright and interested, and without taking his gaze from them he removed a long object from beside him, handing it across to the old Xiscapian. The light revealed the thing to be a hefty, gnarled cane, and the wizened kitsune used it to stand, planting the tip on the floor and pushing himself to his feet, leaning on the support as the other also stood.

"Empress," the old one bowed deeply, and Jade bowed back just as much in response. "Master Miyagi," she said softly. "I am glad you are still in good health."

"It takes more than a war to ail me, my dear," the one called Miyagi turned now to Marchamp, eyes full of warmth and good humor, shuffling a little closer to get a better look at the Setulanite. He bowed to him as well, smiling beneath his beard, murmuring out what sounded like a poem or part of a song.

"Tall as the mountains and arms of steel
Word and blade force enemies to kneel
Traveler of oceans, roamer of space
Who are you in this sacred place?"

You may speak now. Came Jade, and Marchamp could hear amusement in her voice.

XINHQ...

Krystal felt her mouth drop open slightly. Twelve hundred ships? That's five times the entire Imperial Navy! "I will do that, Admiral," she heard herself say, and in a moment the coordinates had been transmitted to the Belkan, though it was all done mechanically, the young Grand Admiral was almost stunned. With so many vessels for use they could be assured that all Coalition systems were well-protected from further Danaversian or Boolean assaults, and, armed with the correct shield frequencies, finally they could halt the enemy advance. With a slight shake of the head Krystal dragged herself back into reality: The array was in Danaversian hands, and they had to take it back before they could do anything else.

"Have the Alumina pledged any ships?" She wanted to know. "And where shall our fleets gather to launch the attack?"

Transport

Green smiled back in good humor.
"Fair enough. I can live with that, I think. Another bolt in the wrong direction may very well with an altogether different and unpleasant kind of bolt in the back of my head. After a cigar, of course." He stretched, hands meeting above his head, and cracked his knuckles. With a greatful sigh, he stood up and removed his body armor and helmet, carelessly throwing them in a corner. The indentation where the armor had been was still clear on his dishevilled and grimy uniform.
"If you care to join me, Colonel, I am going to wander the troop bay for a bit and let the medics shoot me full of anti-viral and -bacterial shit so I don't get a fever and die from my scratches, something I advise you to do as well. After that, I will tour the troops. Then, I will get myself cleaned up and eat something. Gods know I won't be able to sleep yet." His eyes clouded, but he wouldn't let them close until he knew the fate of every one of his critically wounded soldiers.

Church

Marchamp returned the bow, going just as deep as the elderly priest before him. It was strange for him to bow to any religious figure, but he knew how to pay his respects-it would not do to offend this particular old kitsune. He smiled slightly as the quaint old man said his poem.
"I am Prime Minister Marchamp, Master Miyagi, Ambassador to Xiscapia from the Republic of Setulan. I come here to learn more about your people from one who knows them best."

Broten's Quarters

Broten leaned forward intently. That was a question he really wanted to know-if the evasive Alumina would actually commit to full scale battle. It would, he reflected, be nice to have something between his ships and the enemy.

Zillar Space

At first there was nothing in space except the lone Barracuda, then there was a blue flash and three Zillar vessels appeared before the Barracuda. The Zillar ships were heavily armored and were black in appearance as if disguising itself as part of space. One short message came from the biggest ship of the three, Source.

"We're listening."

Berrax Presidential Office

None of the recent news was encouraging at all. The Danaversians were adding more and more ships and were blocking a few merchant ships, but the merchant ships could always avoid the Danaversians by going other ways. Callin was more concerned about the build up of the enemy fleet. The Berrax navy nearly stretched itself to cover all areas and production was going as quickly as it could, but Callin didn't believe those ships would be ready in time.

The Berrax Republic waited now.

Alversian Space
The Belkan CONYARD was brought through the HERMES gate carried by the Belkan armada without incident, and moved to a Lagrange point near the Alversian homeworld. From it, the rest of the Belkan forces could teleport and deploy with relative ease, though larger ships would still need to travel the conventional way. A pair of ambassadorial ships were the first to deploy, one heading towards the HQ on Alversia, the other headed for the co-ordinates provided by the Xiscapians to arrange a territory exchange for Belkan military support.


Xiscapian Space
The small, unarmed frigate reached Xiscapian space without incident, and hailed the native kitsune.
"Salvete Omines. This is the diplomatic vessel Legatus Morea of the Imperium of Belkaros, requesting landing or docking instructions."

Imperial Labs, Raven

Emma noticed Ginta's awkwardness and she blushed herself, aware of what he was trying to do and knowing how badly he was doing at it. She looked away for a moment, not quite sure how to respond to his rather clumsy attempts to ask her a rather important question. In her mind, she had imagined this day for so long, that Ginta would finally take an interest in her and ask her out on a date, though she should really have guessed that he wouldn't have the skills to articulate such an idea fluently. He had spent too much time around his science and his formulas, not used to having a physical female touch him in this way, with this intention.

"I like holo-prgrammes," She replied meekly, looking shyly into his eyes, "I'm available tomorrow if you want..." She stopped and looked away then, wondering what his response would be to her rather obvious statement. She had set it up on a platter for him, all he had to do was take it. She had been used to Upper-Class boys asking her out, using smooth and silky language to flatter her into an acceptance. Ginta was...different.

APNHQ

"Ah," Ashe smiled, feeling the others in the Coalition's wish to see if the Alumina would commit fully to what was an essential battle, one in which the Coalition was already investing heavy resources. Ashe consulted a small datapad next to her before answering,
"The Aluminan Defence Forces gave commited Seventy-four ships to the campaign, already assembling near Alversian Station Gamma. That it where I advise that all our fleets rendezvous, I shall wire the co-ordinates now." She did just that, revealing the location of Alversian Trade, Diplomatic and Defence Station Gamma within Alversian space.
"Are there any more questions?"

Alversian Space

The Small vessel in question was met by two Alversian Destroyers of the Alversian Home Fleet, APS |Raman and APS Wildcat. One formed up on each side of the ship and escorted it towards Alversia, where the rest of the fleet was already on high alert. From the massive Sparrowhawk, Alversia's primary defence station, a message was sent,

TO: Belkaran Diplomatic Vessel

Please land in Dock 23.A of the Baxtor Array at these co-ordinates.
A transport shall bring you to the surface.

The Array in question was already filled with Ships from various nations and services, including large numbers of Alversian Merchant ships returning from the Miller Evacuation to drop off their cargoes of Refugees and to be refitted for Trading again.

Transport...

Dui justed nodded, aware that she wouldn't be properly well until she had stripped out of her armor, bathed, rested and returned to Xiscapia. "I already took care of some of that on our own transport," she jerked a thumb over her shoulder to the bulkhead behind her, though in truth the transport she had recently left could not be accurately pinpointed by a being inhabiting the realspace dimension at the level she did. "But a quick bath and a meal sounds lovely..." Not to mention that I'd like to see how Setulan's finest are post-battle. Her communicator crackled and she tapped into it, listening intently to the words pouring out into her fox ear. "We'll be reaching Xiscapia in about fifteen minutes," she informed Green, "we're to send our troops back to base, and we get a couple hours of R&R, but after that High Command wants us at the Tenfour XIN dockyards."

Church...

"Hmph," Miyagi continued to look Marchamp over, eyes travelling from his boots all the way up his form to his face, as if assessing the man. The other kitsune was standing silently in the background, attention flicking back and forth from Jade to Marchamp, as if unsure who he should be watching. Miyagi, huffing slightly with effort, moved with an odd three-legged gait, using both his legs and the walking stick to propell himself across the floor, no longer blocking Marchamp's view of the younger kitsune. "Forgive my forgetfullness, this is High Priest May nghien, he comes from distant worlds with fascinating tales," the ancient one chuckled, "he has been away from home for far too long. So!" Miyagi eased himself back down onto the mat, the oddly-named May nghien also seating himself across from him. "What is it, percisely, that you seek, Prime Minister Marchamp?" Wrinkles ceased around his twinkling eyes as he smiled, motioning that he should sit as well. Jade gave a quick nod and settled herself as well onto one of the pillows, assuming the same cross-legged position as the others.

APNHQ...

"I have no more," Krystal answered, glancing around at the others assembled. The operation was simple: Come together, fight their way to the station, and liberate it.

Xiscapian Space...

The Belkan frigate was not challenged by any vessels that they could see: Either the kitsune had been forwarned of their coming, or their defenses were incredibly stealthy. However, as the blue-green orb hanging in space that was the Motherland came into visual view the ship would receive a message:

Legatus Morea, you have been cleared to dock at Space Station Protector, Dock 12, Bay 4. A delegation is awaiting the presence of your diplomatic party there. Coordinates are being uploaded now: Please do not deviate from the pre-set course, or corrective action will be taken.

A blip against the planet, Space Station Protector was revealed to be a massive weapons platform orbiting Xiscapia, covered in battle plates, sheild generators, turrets, cannons and other pieces of equipment. Several warships of varying sizes could be seen docked there, and an almost constant stream of shuttles, drop ships and transports were flying to and from the station, either headed down to Xiscapia or off into outer space.

Imperial Labs, Raven...

Ginta brightened immediately. "Great! Right, great..." He grinned widely. "Uhh..." He looked at her quizzically, cocking his head to the side, wondering why she did not face him. He scuffed one shoe across the floor, hands in his pockets, head down, looking at her though the hair that fell over his face. "So...when and where do I get you?"

Transport

Green chuckled wryly.
"I can't imagine why." He opened the hatch and gestured for her to follow him through the bay.
He wandered amongst the troops without any apparent pattern, stopping in random troop bays and conferring with first the Battalion commanders, then the troops of the unit. The men were doing a variety of activities. Many, exhausted after the action, were sleeping, often still in full gear (which Green knew from experience they would regret the next morning). Others played cards or dice, relying on luck to piss away their bonus combat pay which they hadn't even recieved yet. In small knots, the senior noncoms and officers sat around a table with an open bottle of whiskey, drinking to the memories of their fallen comrades.

Every once in a while, a trooper would stop talking or playing cards, and a far away look would come into their eyes-the thousand yard stare. They were never alone for long, however, as doctrine drilled into the troopers minds told them that they should never, ever leave a combat-shocked soldier by themselves. The soldiers in question were pulled into the drinking circles and given the rawest possible rotgut whiskey, with the result that they were dragged coughing and spluttering out of their memories.

Occasionally taking a drink with the men, Green continued his meandering path.

Church

The Setulan sat down greatfully and listened to the question. Marchamp's reply was immediate and sure.
"Peace, always, be it through the barrel of a gun or the signing of a document."

Broten's Quarters

"Very well. I'll meet you at the rendevous point. Broten out." With a click, the holo projector shut down. He turned to his aide, who had been standing in the corner quietly.
"Get the orders ready. We leave in one hour."

Alversian Space
The Belkan craft followed the instructions of the Alversians, docking without incident at the given location. Ambassador Valarie Gherrus stepped from her shuttle. Her short military haircut was in harsh contrast to her beautiful features, and even her conservative but close fitting uniform could not hide her attractive figure. She flashed a sterling smile at the Alversians assembled near her ship and bowed in greetings.

Xiscapian Space
The unarmed shuttle landed in the heavily armed station, and another stunning young woman stepped from it. Her flowing red hair rested on her shoulders and bounced as she approached her xenomorphic hosts.

Dela, Orbit

Dela was Alversia's moon, Alversia's only moon. It was close enough to Alversia to make that body clearly visible, the green grass and forests contrasted sharply with the rolling blue that was spread outcross the planet, almost azure in colour even from here. It was not difficult to see the tropical beaches areas of Alversia's capital, the darkened yellow deserts to her north and where the mountains would be, were they not concealed by grey, swirling clouds, smeared across orbit. Illesia itself, the heart of the Alversian Republic, was not visible, concealed from view by the massive bulk of the Sparrowhawk, over a hundred miles in length, every inch armed with weapons of all kinds. It stood over the Capital like a Bodyguard, shielding the buildings with it's bulk alone. Dela was not dissimiliar to Alversia, though it was more cool that it's tropical sibling, with more of the surface covered in large forests and rolling green hills than Alversia was. There were plenty of seas and oceans visible from the surface but one did not swim in them unless one was prepared for a dose of pneumonia. Swirling rainclouds, lightest grey in colour were visible from orbit, threatening the already wet inhabitants with yet more rainfall. It would be easy to say that Dela's orbit was clear and crisp as it's surface but it was not.

Like any developed planet, Dela's upper orbit was cluttered with all the trinkets that one would suspect. Just behind the vast numbers of defensive stations, were a variety of Cross-shaped stations, some of which had the massive Philosopher-Class Merchant Vessels already docked, dwarfing the other trade vessels which were moored along the other arms of the stations. The vast cargo doors were open to the interior of the Station, their cargoes being unloaded for transport down to Dela's Spaceports in smaller vessels, not risking it's geological features by trying to force a three kilometer long ship of several hundred million tons into Dela's orbit. These Merchant Docks were accompanied by the Merchant drydocks, the massive ships nestling comfortably into them, two long arms hugging the exterior hull tightly, occasional flashes of blue betraying a droid or Worker sealing up a small gap in the hull caused by passing asteroids or even blaster damage if the Trading Captain had chanced his arm too close to the Danaversian border.

Accompanying the vast bulk of these trade vessels were more ships, some much smaller, one or two man crfat that darted between the bigger and more cumbersome ships like gold fish around whales, some of these vessels were transporting passengers to the bigger cruise ships, bringing crew to the Merchant vessels or, as was much more obvious in these times of conflict, bringing troops up to the massive Troop Transports assembling for campaign and the warships preparing for combat.

The later made up the largest number of vessels in space, there being a total of Forty two major warships in orbit, though nineteen of them didn't belong there, being a part of Admiral Michael Bartlett's Ninth Fleet and therefore assembling for campaign elsewhere, it's crews preparing for yet more action, having already been bloodied against the Danaversians. These warships were to perform a twofold task, the first one was to clear Ferra's orbit of Danaversian warships then to protect that orbit from relieving forces while the hundred thousand plus Coalition Army drove the Dan Warriors out of friendly Alversian space for good.

The fleet, centred around the Crossfire-Class Dreadnought Challenger was ready for combat, it's losses replaced by recruits from APN Training on Alversia and Dela, the damage suffered in the Battle of Alversian Space repaired in the drydocks. The fleet was one of Alversia's most powerful, consisting of the Flagship Dreadnought, the Goshawk-Class Dreadnought Deckas, the Battlecruisers, Formidable, Fury, Farlow, Futon, Inquest and Immense, the Heavy Cruisers Foxfire Rose, Amanda Jefferson and Mickey Saan. They were supported by the Fleet Carrier Goliath which would provide fighter support both during the battle and in the land campaign, it's fighter compliment mostly replaced with strike craft for surface operations. It was also carrying the initial fighters of the APAAF for the ground campaign, the rest waiting with the carriers Harpe and Trident and the Destroyers Gerania and Hellcat as escorts. They were supported by a number of Unity-Class Cruisers that made up the rest of the attacking Alversian Fleet.

They were in position, their troops were assembled. Twenty six Battalions of a hundred and thirty thousand men with another eighteen Armoured Regiments in support. The Starcraft would make up for the rest. They were waiting for the rest of the Coalition Troops.

Alversian Dock

The Alversian in question was a female, standing at over six foot tall with delicate features and a light frame characteristic of her race. She wearing the uniform of the Alversian People's Navy, a dark maroon tunic that complimented her dark brown hair, which stretched down as far as the small in her back. She focused on her deep yellow, vulpine eyes on the female Ambassador. She nodded, her red lips curled up in a smile,
"Greetings Ambassador, my name is Captain Sasha and I am the personal Aide to Grand Admiral Ashe. It is an honour to meet you." She offered a slight bow.

Lune, Xiscapia

"You can pick me up from my appartment, here's the directions," She wrote them down on a small piece of paper and handed them to the Xiscapian Scientists, her tail flicking happily now that she had finally arranged for a date with the man she had been staring at for so long. She looked shyly into his eyes,
"How about tomorrow evening? 2000 hours?" She giggled and took one of his hands from his pocket, encasing it in her own. I would like that." She finished quietly.

Transport...

Dui followed along behind, acutely aware of how pint-sized she seemed among the seven and a half to eight feet tall Setulanites, even sitting down they were only a little shorter than she was. That didn't stop her from doing the same as she had on her own carrier, giving the occasional compliment or soft word of encouragement, though she forwent the drinking and gambling. For the most part they all seemed okay, moody in some places and fatigued overall, but that was to be expected of just about any fighting force.

A few minutes later the transport had landed in city of Tenfour, along with the rest of the troop ships, with the worst of the wounded being rushed away to hospitals while the less serious injuries, if they had not been patched up already, were fixed on-site. The exhausted, battle-weary soldiers, Xiscapian and Setulanite alike, disembarked though the early morning light to the Joint Force barracks, where they get cleaned up and rest while their equipment was repaired and replenished. They had fought long and hard indeed, and would be rewarded with downtime until the next fight. Dui and Green caught one of the military trucks back to base, arriving at last at their own personal quarters. Dui knew they hadn't been gone for more than a day, but it seemed like a year, she felt utterly drained, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. Major Grimske was waiting outside, hands behind his back, looking impeccable as usual, but Dui waved him off as he approached. "Wake us in about seven hours, we'll be ready then."

The Major looked surprised. "But Colonel-"

Dui rounded on him. "No 'buts', trooper, you can tell High Command to stick that two-hour meeting where the sun don't shine, war is-"

"Hell, ma'am," he replied quietly. "I know. I'll leave it for later, then." He opened the door for them and bowed himself out into the cool air.

Church...

"One can build a throne of bayonets, but one cannot sit on them for long," Miyagi chuckled, beard twitching. "Excuse my non sequiturs, I'm afraid I abhor war, but," he nodded in Jade's direction, "sometimes it is unavoidable. Peace is the goal of war, that must never be forgotten. However," he smiled kindly, "I was referring to your purpose for coming here. Is it the religion you wish to learn about? Do you seek Enlightenment? Or is it the culture that attracts you? Perhaps," his smile widened, laughing, "it is because Empress Jade dragged you here. I am not a mind-reader." The old one guffawed.

Lune, Xiscapia...

Ginta held the piece of paper like it was the most fragile, precious thing in the universe, almost reverently, cupping it in his hands as if he were afraid it would vanish into nothingness, a fleeting wishful dream. "I...me too," He smiled bashfully, squeezing her hand. "I'll see you then..." He whispered, and backed away slowly, towards the door. He gave a single, quick nod, as if afraid to open his mouth again, and darted out the door, resisting the urge to act on the explosive happiness welling up inside him by doing something rash like screaming for joy or skipping. He found himself almost in a daze as he walked the half block to his car: Normally this trek annoyed him, the good spaces were always filled up by the vehicles of the military or bureaucrats, but this evening he didn't even notice. This feeling, however, did not prevent him from heeding the figure that burst out from the bushes alongside the road mere feet from him.

Ginta, caught daydreaming, was initially surprised, and slow to bring his guard up. Lune was extremely safe, even for a relatively safe nation like the Kitsune Empire: The Syndicate had almost zero presence in the city, no one locked their doors, and it was fine to walk the streets on even the darkest of nights. Thus, the scientist was not expecting to be mugged, but all suspicions that this person was a criminal vanished when he stepped fully into the light. The kitsune was dressed in a black suit and wore sunglasses despite the gloom, but the street light glinted off the I.D. badge he flashed in Ginta's face, three words searing themselves into his brain:
Xiscapian Internal Affairs.

"I'm going to have to ask you come with me, sir..."

Later that night, at her own apartment, Emma would hear the buzzer sound. When she opened it she would be confronted by two XIA agents in the hallway, both of whom flashed their badges at her. "XIA, ma'am," the lead one said, face expressionless, eyes inscrutable behind his shades, "you have five pack only your essentials into a bag and come with us. We'll explain on the way."

Outside, five minutes later, Emma would be bundled into a unmarked hovercraft surrounded by a police motorcade and driven off to the spaceport with only what she could carry in a duffel bag, flashing blue and red lights and hard faces surrounding her. From there she was escorted on board the Xiscapian Imperial Warship Starrider (http://prinzeugn.deviantart.com/art/Space-Battleship-51986076), a modified mining ship converted into a Heavy Cruiser, bypassing Customs and all the usual formalities when one wished to travel offplanet, where she was put in a conference room under the guard of a Marine and told to wait for representatives. After a couple of minutes Ginta too, lugging a briefcase, would be admitted inside, looking shell shocked.

Space Station Protector...

The Belkan emissary was met by a kitsune (http://media.photobucket.com/image/kitsune/ukokusha/anime_kitsune.jpg?o=2) with equally luscious red hair and deep, dark fur wearing the purple and black robes of the Xiscapian Diplomatic Corps, flanked by two XIN soldiers. She bowed at about an average angle, straightening up with a smile. "Greetings to you, Ambassador," she said, voice soft and lilting. There was something about the Xiscapian that made you instinctively want to trust her. "I am Chief Ambassador Vanadict, personal Aide to the Emperor and Head of the Xiscapian Diplomatic Corps. Please," she indicated the open hallway behind her as the Marine escort parted to make way, "come with me for more comfortable accommodations."

Dela, Orbit...

Three vessels pulled themselves up into real space: The Calaverian Observer (http://www.moddb.com/images/cache/mods/34/3430/gallery/thumb_26080.jpg) vessel, formerly the Lenin before it was captured in a war a decade ago, now pressed into service as a bulk carrier and renamed the Freedom, the massive mile-long asteroid assault platform given weapons, engines and life support systems and dubbed the Pebble, and the aging but still mighty Korr Battleship (http://xtrack.deviantart.com/art/Battleship-in-orbit-69336359) the Fury. Between the three, the ships of VI Fleet, now the First Flotilla under Flotilla Captain Gurge, they carried a considerable amount of firepower, enough to fight off a small enemy fleet and the enthusiastic, trained crews and seasoned commanders to do it with. On the viewscreen of the APS Challenger the face of a Korr male would appear, an unsettling view at the best of times but positively menacing now that a battle was about to commence. "Admiral," he growled, pronouncing the word perfectly with only a little of the crushed-gravel accent Korr tended to have when speaking Galactic Common, "First Flotilla at your service, sir."

Alversian Dock

The Belkan returned the bow, cursing silently that by being received by another woman, one of her most distinct advantages had been neutralized. She straightened and smiled. "It is an honor, Captain Sasha. I am Ambassador Elizabeth Firth of the Imperium of Belkaros." She continued, in a cool tone, "I am here to discuss the the deployment and housing of Belkan forces during this conflict."


Xiscapian Protector
The Belkan did as she was instructed, following in behind her Xiscapian host. "Thank you for receiving me, Chief Ambassador. I am Ambassador Felecia Caranov." she flashed a toothy smile and looked around the conference room to which she had been led. She took an indicated seat, and waited for her host to do the same. Then she spoke, "As you know, Ambassador, though the success of the Coalition is in Belkaros's best interest. However, as an empire, we cannot thrive without expansion. As such, we would like to lay claim to some of the territory that is sure to be changing hands with our victory."

Transport

Green simply stood and watched as Dui ripped the Major a new asshole. With a polite nod to the kitsune officer, Green trudged into his quarters, Dui close behind. With a heavy sigh, he started to remove his clothing.
"I almost want to skip the shower and sleep." Seeing Dui wrinkler her nose, he chuckled. "Almost."
Removing his shirt, he examined himself in the mirror, grimacing at the dirty brown of fresh bruises and the outlines of cuts, slowly fading away as the skin regrowth gels started to take effect. He paused a moment and stared off into space.
"That...was ugly." He shook his head, then turned back to Dui. "Now high command is liable to be as pissed at you as they are at me."

Church

Marchamp smiled back at the strange old priest.
"The culture intrigues me, and enlightenment is something I always wish to attain...but for now, I have come to learn of your religion from those who know it best."

Dela

Stars turned black, writhed, and then spat out what remained of TF Eternal Pain. Compared to the massive fist that had launched itself at the Danaversians, it was a meager group indeed, but it still possesed some of the tremendous might that had been the might Task Force.
Six cruisers, two equipped with the might Nova Cannon, and squardons of escorts ejected themselves into the system. 7th Army, embarked on its own squadron of Cobra destroyers, was in the rear.
Vice Admiral Timothy Earl, his third star still shiny on his shoulder, stood on his bridge. He was accutely aware that he was once more the lowest ranking officer in the coallition navy, and that his role was going to be strictly of support. Moreover, he could think of no good reason for his promotion except that he had managed to survive.
He turned to his comm officer.
"Get me a link to the APS Challenger." He waited patiently until the link ran up.
"Sir, Vice Admiral Timothy Earl reports."

Challenger Bridge, Dela Orbit

Admiral Michael Bartlett continued to pace idly up and down the length of his Crossfire-Class Dreadnought, hands firmly behind his back, posture straight, eyes never blinking. Around him, the rest of the crew continued with the frenzied preparations that always preceeded a vessel preparing to break orbit and head into space, not to mention the additional checks required by a vessel of war about to engage in battle. Bartlett himself, a veteran of numerous wars, conflicts and skirmishes, was the personification of calm, watching as his fleet came together. The Setulan and Xiscapian contingents had arrived and now all he was waiting for were the final stages of loading to be completed. Alversia was transporting over a hundred thousands troops alone to this battle and that was without counting the Armour and aircraft to accompany them to support the operation.

Bartlett reflected on the Danaversian strategy, admiring how they had lodged themselves in Alversia's soft underbelly and refused to budge, happy to keep their forces in defensive arrangements until the Invasion force had built up enough of a presence to launch a sweeping offensive through Alversian space. It was a cunning idea, the Danaversians relying on Alversia's non-interference rule to prevent them interfering with Ferra's new 'protection'. But they had failed to pick up on one point. If they knew about the change of power on Alversia, then they may have thought that another peace-loving Citizen had been elected to try and reduce Alversian Casualties and relations in all theatres when, in fact, the opposite applied. Aiden Mallon, the former Prime Minister, had been a man of peace and, more likely than not, would not have sanctioned an invasion of Ferra, complaining of bringing another power into an already intense war. However, Sammi Owens was different. She was more open to such ideas that her Predecessor and, most importantly, she was more willing to bend the rules in order to accomplish what was needed. She had butted heads a few times with members of the Senate but her convincing rhetoric about the level of the threat to the Alversian homeworld had pursuaded them that the deployment of Alversian men and women were needed to secure Alversia's safety.

Bartlett did not care for any of that at the moment. He was a Soldier first and a Politician second, even if his job did require that he occasionally dive into the muddy world of endless talk and red tape, even if only to secure reinforcements for his own fleet over others who needed the few ships Alversia had in reserve. Even the Deep Space Fleet had been redeployed, broken up into various fleets with the remainder serving in the Wuin System garrison in co-operation with Xiscapian forces. He did not much care for the reasons in his offensive, he understood the need to drive the Dans from Alversian Allied space and, by god, he would do just that.

He heard the familiar beep that indicated incoming messages and turned to face the Holograms of his Allies for this push. Gurge, he recognised and respected, while the Sestulan Vice-Admiral was unfamiliar though doubtless he was good at what he did. News travelled fast in the Alversian Armed Forces and the information on the actions of Green and the Setulan Vanguard Commander had left a sour taste in many mouths. Bartlett had crushed any mumurings in his own force quickly, if even by his presence more than anything else. One could be small and thin with greying hair and a fail air while still commanding authuority and respect.

He saluted to both Commanders,
"Gentlemen, I am pleased that you have been able to rendevous with us in good time," he took a small disk and slipped it into a panel, "I am sending you the lastest positions of the Danaversian shoal in Ferra's orbit. As you can see, there are over thirty vessels, fifteen of which are Barracudas and one of which is a Marlin Fleet killer. They are deployed over the capital itself, just out of orbit in a 'half-moon' formation designed to stop vessels from fleeing from the surface. With a jump to the right location, the main battlefleet can left FTL speed right in the middle of the occupying force. Our main priority is the Marlin, which I shall leave to you, Flotilla-Captain Grunge and your warships. The Alvo-Setulan fleets shall flank your force on either side and drive the other Danaversian ships away from their flagship. Once it is destroyed, mopping up should be a formality." he nodded then showed them another plan,
"Once orbit has been secured, the Landing forces shall be dropped here, on the main route east of the Capital, offering a prime position to advance upon it. The dispositions of ground troops shall be made known as soon as they can be comfirmed from orbit. Elsewhere, the fighters of the Alversian fleet shall strike at chosen targets across Ferra, priority being given to airbases and missile defence points, as well as the assembly points for the various Ferran Forces. Are there any questions?" he asked, looking from Commander to Commander.

Starrider

Emma did not resist the Internal Affairs men as they 'apprehended' her. She silently headed into her appartment and began to pack the basic essentials she would need, fear welling up inside her as these men stood in her appartment like some sort of Prison Guards. She did not want to move now, not when she was finally getting Ginta to like her and had finally arranged a date with him. However, she knew if she resisted, then she would be stunned and taken anyway, so better to go with dignity than not, She couldn't even call the Police, because of XIA was on it, then they were powerless.
She completed her packing and travelled in silence in the motorcade, praying to Qonn that they wouldn't hurt her. Her natural instinct was to wonder what she could have done wrong to neccesitate an arrest, but no matter how often she replayed the events, she could think of nothing. Of course Sophie would be furious. The youngest Sister was Chief of Police on Kel and needless to say, she would vicious protest the abduction of another sis...even thinking about it hurt. Emma supposed she, like her Father and Sophie, had never really moved on from Chloe's death.

She settled into the Conference room with anticipation, sitting in silence with the guard until the door opened to reveal the one person she had most wanted to see,
"Ginta!" She cried in both delight and fear,wrapping her arms around him in relief. She remained that way for several moments before parting,
"What's happening Ginta?" She asked, hoping that he somehow had all the answers.

Alversian Dock, Alversian Orbit

Sasha nodded and smiled as she had been instructed to do by Ashe, noting with amusement how she subtly gave away her signs of disappointment in being sent a female to negoitiate with. They had not thought on the shrewdness of Grand Admiral Reyes who knew that a seductive female Ambassador would be more likely to wrangle an unfavourable arrangement with one of her Admirals. Besides, who better to talk with an Ambassador on military matters than the Grand Admiral's Aide herself. It was like having the woman here in person,
"Of course, Miss Firth. I am entrusted by the Alversian Armed Forces to discuss such matters with you and to act as a liason between yourself and the Alversian Armed Forces. I can only apologise that my Superior, Grand Admiral Reyes, cannot meet with you in person, but the manners of war do not permit much time for diplomatic meetings." A smile, "Shall we head to the surface?" She asked, indicating to one of the shuttles nearby.

Berrax/Danaversian Border

Activity was increasing. There could be no doubt of that, more and more ships were arriving from all over the Empire, sometimes dozens at a time, reinforcing the Berrax border, establishing deep penetration sensor posts and defensive stations to help seal the Berrax into their own space. Any vessel that bore the Berrax emblem was now taken and, instead of being turned around, it's cargo was confiscated and it's crews taken to be 'asked' on Berrax military deployments, locations of key officials and other information that a seven foot, half ton Amphibion could not gain from a tourist leaflet.

This, combined with a satisfactory agreement made on the other side of the Xiscapian Empire, meant that this phase of the war was turning into a very agreeable one for the Danaversian Empire and their Allies, old and new.

Joint Force HQ...

Dui grinned as she began to remove her own dented, singed, scratched armor. "Better to be damned with you than trumpeted without you," she told him honestly. The kitsune winced as she peeled away her shoulder armor, exposing a nasty third degree burn on her skin, an ugly black mark surrounded by angry red, the result of a Boolean phaser bolt diluted though the protection of her armor. "Bastard," she muttered to herself, wondering if the one who had shot her had been killed or not. She popped a painkiller, though only one, mindful that Green himself had overdosed and nearly died because of them trying to see his troops though the Battle of Colony One, and spread a little bit of ointment over the injury. It would ache for a little while, and it would be at least a couple of days before the fast-acting artificial medical cells could repair it completely, but it could have been much worse. Finally she deposited all her armor into its original case and set it out to be seen to by the smiths, who would have it back to her by this time tomorrow.

Now she began to slip out of her bodyglove, the figure which had remained quite shapeless and anonymous under the armor coming into view. "Time for a shower," she sighed, looking at him, a smile spreading over her features, fox ears perking, tail wrapping itself around her legs. "Coming?"

Church...

Miyagi nodded sagely, and without any apparent signal the one identified as May nghien rose up and left. They sat in silence until he returned not a minute later with a tray bearing four steaming mugs of tea, which he set down by the light burning between them all, bowing and taking his seat again. A deep aroma with tones of citrus, grass, and berries filled the air, pleasant and calming. Miyagi took a cup, and indicated that the others should do the same, and Marchamp would quickly discover that he had been served green tea, very strange if one had never encountered it before. A sip would reveal that it had a tangy, berry-like taste, with a long almondy aftertaste. "Tamaryokucha," Miyagi said simply, "quick, and relatively easy to make, but many teas rival old wines in the careful process and complexity of the ingredients needed to make the perfect cup." He didn't seem to be saying anything of the religion, but the others said nothing. Perhaps this was going somewhere.

Bridge of the XIW Fury...

"My thanks, Herr Admiral," Gurge clenched a fist, bringing it down in a traditional sign of power. To be assigned such a fine prize was glorious, to the Korr's own honor, fighting a Supercapital with his own three craft was a battle worthy of his experience, a chance to prove himself again. Naturally, he and his kind encountered considerable resistance in the Xiscapian Armed Forces, the war had only been over for a dozen years after all, but most had a grudging respect of the Korr, and the same was true with the Alversians. They were big, they were powerful, and they were determined, not so unlike the Danaversians, but in this conflict they were going against each other where in the past they might have joined as allies. Gurge had no actual ideologies, he was here simply for the battle and the glory, and, of course, to make sure there was still a market for his uncle's coffee business once the war ended. That was important.

"I have no questions."

XIW Starrider...

"I..." Ginta hugged her close. "I don't know, they didn't tell me anything, no warning or anything..." He seemed afraid. "I haven't done anything wrong, I swear, I don't know how this happened."

Space Station Protector...

Vanadict sat across from the Belkan Ambassador, wordless as a lesser aide came in with a tray of light refreshments and a pitcher of water to attend to their glasses and plates. When the kitsune left Vanadict nodded slowly. "I'm afraid that's not possible, at least not in the terms you're thinking of. You see," she explained, "the Alversians have mandated that any territory we might happen to capture will be occupied only until the end of the war, and we will figure out exactly what to do with it once the war reaches its conclusion, be it to give back to the Danaversians or allow the native people self-rule. It would be folly to try to go against their wishes, to my knowledge neither they nor the Alumina have ever occupied a Danaversian world but they seem to believe the Danaversians would never stop attacking that world until those who occupied it were killed or had retreated. They would not support you if you did annex a world, indeed they might go so far as to try to claim it for themselves." A raised eyebrow.

A tired smile and a swing of water. "I do not think you will find this conference in vain, however. Tell me, Ambassador Caranov, what do you know about the late, great Grealic Empire?"

Alversian Conference, Planetside

The trip to the surface had been more or less uneventful, and now Sasha and Firth sat at a table, facing one another. Ambassador Firth had produced a sleek silver briefcase and opened it on the table, revealing a holographic projector and a set of controls. At present it displayed a Belkan Crest on a maroon field.

"The first question that comes to mind, Captain, is one of troop quartering and deployment. Not all of our troopers are human." She paused, and the briefcase display changed to a gigantic, scarred humanoid, and a normal sized human standing at its side. (http://www.residentevilfan.com/gallery/image.asp?id=613)

"This is a Belkan Centurion, an organic weapon platform with cybernetic enhancments. These creatures are highly intelligent and, unless instructed otherwise, benign, but their appearance is well... I think the hologram speaks volumes. Would your people have any aversion to such creatures being deployed among our standard forces, as is Belkan SOP?"


Space Station Protector
Ambassador Caranov took a long drink of the cool water and spoke, "The Greali Empire once sold Belkaros a system to colonize, though we have never been on truly peaceful terms with them. What, may I ask are you suggesting?" She asked, gingerly tasting a small snack provided by her host, and finding it to her liking.

Joint Force HQ

Laughing, Green stripped off his dirty clothing and went to get clean...or dirty, depending on how one looked at it.
He had seven hours, and there were two "R"s in R&R.

Church

Marchamp sipped the steaming liquid greatfully. He held it in his mouth a moment, allowing himself to savor the new and exotic taste. There were teas on Setulan, but this particular brand was entirely new to him. He took another sip and waited patiently. There had to be more on the heels of that statement-it had too much profound simplicity to be otherwise.

Dela, Orbit

Earl cursed mentally. The damn Danaversians, curse their slimy hides, were too close to the planet to safely use the nova cannons on his two terror class cruisers. His heaviest hitting firepower had just been taken away from him. The terror class ships were still immensely powerful warships, but those two novas could have done horrendous damage to any Danaversian vessel...or any of their ships foolish enough to be close to each other.
"None."

Coalition Fleet

"Very well," Bartlett turned back from the screen, settling in the seat beside Captain Nemo, the Kitsune captain of the Challenger. He settled in the chair, admiring as always how comfortable these seats seemed to be, before looking out at the fleet drifting along beyond his own vessel. The fleet was finally here, over thirty vessels from the three main powers of the Coalition, preparing to launch the first real invasion of the war. In his mind, Havalia was a debacle that hurt the pride of the People's Navy and this was therefore the first real strike they would get against the Danaversians.

Bartlett was one of the older Admirals and like many, he had made his career killing Danaversians and even now, the old memories of old ships and friends long commited to the pages of history were flaming in his mind. He had already led his fleet to defend Alversian space, fighting with the legendary Admiral Reynolds and Rear-Admiral Cavourna, two notable personalities within the Navy at the moment. He had been in admiration of Reynolds, a younger Admiral true, perhaps from a different generation of fighting from him. Reynolds preferred to use tactics and subtle manouvers to gain the edge in battle while Bartlett was from a generation who clung to the traditional punch move, juist drive into the fleet, cut it up and blow it apart piece by piece. He sighed, perhaps he was getting too old for this kind of thing, though nothing compared to the adreneline one got from launching himself into the enemy fleet, with only instinct and experience to rely on. He smiled to himself, perhaps spending a little more time in command couldn't hurt.

He turned to face Captain Nemo, the kitsune's ivory coloured ears twisting in his direction, deep orange eyes locked on the Admiral, awaiting his command, tail flicking slightly. Bartlett nodded to the Challenger's Operations Officer. The Alversian Lieutenant nodded to the unspoken order and tapped the button on his console, connecting him to the whole fleet,
"To all ships, this is Admiral Bartlett, prepare to jump on my mark...5...4...3...2...1...all ships, jump to FTL."

The IX Fleet flashed into Transwarp, scanners flashing as the ships tore into another dimension, travelling hundreds of lightyears in a matter of minutes. There was silence on the bridge of the Dreadnought as they steeled themselves mentally for the battle that waited ahead. Down in the depths of the warship, crew members prepared themselves for all events, Marines stood guard in key areas of the ship, gripping their rifles in anticipation of a potential boarding raid, Damage repair teams prepared for any kind of damage from core breaches to dropped shields to destroyed bulkheads, all of which might need their immediate assistance. In the hangar bays, Pilots slid into their fighters, preparing themselves for the swarms of Congors that would no doubt challenge them, at the same time, other Pilots settled into their holochairs in prepation to launch the drone fighters, activating their controls, sensor panels and various other instruments that would allow them to control a drone-style fighter without actually risking themselves.

On the bridge, the only sound continued to be the beeping of consoles as last minute diagnostics came in, courtesy of the Operations and Diagnostic Officers. All weapons systems were checked and double checked, all defense systems, all engines, all shields, all emergency systems. All came back positive. Bartlett drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair while Nemo walked between stations, hands behind his back, trying to contain his own nerves at the upcoming battle. An alarm woke the crew, brought Bartlett to his feet and Nemo back to the centre of the bridge, striding confidently back to the Admiral's side,
"Prepare shields," He murmured to the Tactical Officer.

"Dropping from Transwarp...now," The Operations Officer announced as the multicoloured swirl that was transwarp dropped away to reveal the green and blue world of Ferra, a wonderfully calm and serene seeming planet. Even from here, Bartlett could see the mountains, the seas, the desert and the forests. However, almost immediately, this was wiped from his mind by the appearance of the Danaversian fleet, spread out in a loose mushroom shape, blockading the surface, not looking to space for any signs of opposition. The massive, sleek Marlin clear in the centre of the formation, easily dwarfing the other vessels amongst the Shoal.

"Raise shields, ready weapons!" Nemo commanded his vessel, while Bartlett talked to the rest of the fleet, "All ships, you know your duty. We need to allow Captain Gurge a clear run on the Marlin, Ninth fleet will follow us into the left flank of the fleet, the Setulans will take the right."

Already, flashes of laser fire were striking the shields of the Challenger with glancing blows, the MAC cannons of the Alversian warship replying in kind, combined with the triple mounted turbo laser turrets that could aim forward at the fleet, explosions filling the space around the kilometer long Dreadnought,
"Sir, Fighters incoming." Came the report, as a swarm of Congors and another, unknown kind of fighter, peeled off to both sides of the warship, already losing craft to the retaliatory AA fire from the Dreadnought, combined with the fire from other, nearby ships.
"Launch fighters," Bartlett ordered, keeping his balance as his ship trembled with another hit, "All ships know their duty."

As he said it, the amount of fire striking the Coalition fleet increased as the Shoal turned to face the new threat, the Marlin bringing it's vast array of weapons into play.

Starrider

Emma nodded in understanding, knowing in her heart that Ginta was not at fault for whatever reason that the Internal Affairs men had whisked her away from her home with barely any warning. She was just glad that he was here with her, the only person she would want to be trapped with. She had been kidnapped by her own Empire and she was unsure exactly why. Having already dismissed a crime as the reason, therefore assuming it had to be protection. Protection from what though, was the question.

At the moment, she was happy just to be with Ginta, wrapping her arms around him, tail curled around his legs. She was just pleased to be with him, taking comfort from his presence, resting her head on his shoulder.

Conference Room, APNHQ

"Ah," Sasha looked at the creature in question and continued to stare at it for a moment, rather surprised that quite a creature could be a part of this People's Army, supposing that each to their own, she knew that Alversia would never use such a creature in their own Army and, even worse, she knew that no such thing could wander around Alversia's population centres. There were limits one could have to hospitality, and such a creature, a weapon of all things, couldn't really wander through the Capital.
"I'm sure we can find a Barracks somewhere for them," She replied with a smile, "As for deployment in battle," She shrugged, "I am not going to oppose such a move. If they can be controlled in battle and will not attack any Coalition forces, then I cannot see any problems with their place on the battlefield."

Conference Room, APNHQ
The Belkan saw the unease on Sasha's face, and gave some explanation, "The Centurion race has been a part of Belkan history for some time. They were developed in an attempt to unman the front lines, and since then have become an invaluable part of our armed services. Unfortunately for them, they are intelligent, sentient creatures, with a fully developed human persona, and unwavering in loyalty to those they serve, traits not matched with their grotesque appearance. We will make sure their civilian exposure is kept to a bare minimum, and when they must appear in public it will be under the cover of their combat helmets and other gear (http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/epic/ironshrinemaiden/Enclave_Soldier_by_IronShrineMaiden.jpg) to minimize negative PR for both of us."

OOC: Belk's got some pictures of his own, huh? ;)

Space Station Protector...

The Vanadict swirled the contents of her drink with one long, slender finger, watching Caranov. "As you know the Greali Empire no longer exists, the final Danaversian push onto their home world, Nova Reginix, destroyed the central government and most of the military. Before its fall," a hitherto unnoticed hologram projector in the middle of the table came to life, humming softly and displaying a starmap, "the Greali Empire consisted of eight main star systems with their central systems and a number of small moons scattered throughout used as outposts, small colonies and prisons." The map neatly divided itself into eight sections as Vanadict continued. "The planet of Nova Max, now the homeworld of the Berrax Republic, rebelled against the Greali government for the unfair treatment its natives were receiving during the Imitator War. With the help of the Kitsune Empire, it later became an independent state." Part of the holomap was shaded blue with the words "Berrax Republic" stamped across it.

"The planet of New Sparta was destroyed by the Greali Imperial Navy during the Xis-Alvo-Greali war to stop it from falling into the hands of the Kitsune Empire," one section of the map went dark, "which deprived them of a major source of power crystals and killed tens of thousands of civilians. During that same conflict the Alversian People's Army and Navy captured the Greali world of Miller," part of the map was colored beige with the words "Possession of the People's Republic" emblazoned across it. "Finally, the world of Pamp was captured by Calaverian GOU and Observer starships under the leadership of the Xiscapian Grand Army's own General Caedo," yet another space took on a red hue with the words "Territory of the Communist State of Calaveras" labeling it. "Within a few years the Greali Empire had lost four systems, a full half of all her holdings, to enemy powers, and had been damaged economically and militarily by war, not to mention the civil unrest which was growing within her remaining borders as the government became increasingly totalitarian."

Vanadict sipped her water before continuing.

"Now the Danaversian war begins. The Greali are forced to give up their colonies in Zillar space in order to bring more military forces home to protect the Empire proper, and heavy losses at the First Battle of Nova Reginix and at the Battle of Havalia further weaken the state. Finally the Danaversians invade Nova Reginix and take the homeworld, though the entire star system was annihilated under mysterious circumstances." The central arena of the map faded. "The fledgling Berrax Republic moved quickly after the Greali Empire fell and took over the three remaining star systems which contained the worlds of Laxer, Hurtix and Grux respectively." The final portions of the map also changed to blue and script indicated their annexation to the Berrax Republic.

Vanadict folded her hands on the table before her. "An attack on the Berrax Republic by Danaversian and probably Boolean forces is imminent. They have been producing warships and training soldiers as fast as they can, and the Kitsune Empire is assisting where it can, but our forces are spread thin as it is and we can do little more than offer supplies, weapons, tactical information and the promise of ground support." She leaned forward. "Ambassador Caranov, I am not authorized to make any changes in the borders of the Kitsune Empire or the Berrax Republic, nor dare I predict any sort of outcome of any potential battles between Coalition and enemy forces. However, I can tell you that the Berrax are badly in need of assistance, real, military support to help them fight off the invaders. The Kitsune Empire holds considerable sway over the politics of the Berrax Republic and has the ear of its leader, President Callin; I am sure that if Belkan forces proved themselves useful to the Berrax, the Kitsune Empire could perhaps ensure that the Berrax Republic shows its gratitude in a manner that would be most beneficial to the Imperium."

Joint Force HQ, seven hours later...

Dui yawned widely, fox ears flattening against her head, fingers and toes pointing and then curling, tail lazily brushing itself against Green's thigh beneath the sheets. Her eyelids fluttered and exposed sun-colored eyes gummed with sleep, sighing softly and shifting in the bed, moving closer to his body. "How's my toy soldier?" She whispered, fingers playing along his muscular chest, heat against heat, sweat mingling.

Outside the HQ building they could hear boots against the steel stairs and a knock a few seconds later. "Colonels?" It was Grimske, back again.

Church...

Miyagi let the silence grow longer, seemingly content to stare into his cup with a slight smile. What other significance, importance, or relevance has a minute other than being a cog in an hour? Marchamp heard Jade think wryly.

"People, Ambassador," Miyagi said finally, "are like tea. Some are relatively simple, solid, habits comfortably predictable, the universe is black and white; things are the way they are because that's how they were meant to be. Others are complex, complicated, questioning, infinitely spiraling with a myriad of flavors, like the questions that plague us all: Who are we? Where did we come from? Why are we here?" A cryptic smile.

"If properly made, all tea has it's merits, all tea is good. All tea must be drunk at its own pace, some are made to be sipped over a period of hours, others must be consumed within minutes, least they lose their potency." He stroked his beard. "The basic tenants of the religion of Qonn is helping people unlock their full capacity, reach their full potential, the best flavors and tastes, as it were. True, we guide them as well, put them on the path to Enlightenment, but all do not chosen to tred that long and sacred journey. Not all tea leaves are destined to be the stuff of kings and gods. But," he looked at the Setulanite over the rim of his cup, "all tea has it's merits."

Starrider...

Still embracing Emma, Ginta staggered over to the conference table and sank down in one of the seats under the watchful eye of the Marine soldier. Unfortunately (or, depending on your perspective, fortunately) Emma ended up in his lap, a sensation which the bookish kitsune was quite unprepared for. The moment of awkwardness grew even more acute when the door hissed open again and Vulpes Vulpes kitsune with earthly brown fur, wearing the uniform of a Captain in the Xiscapian Imperial Navy, strode though, the Marine saluting as he did. The Xiscapian didn't appear to acknowledge the sign of respect as he entered, trailing a second Xiscapian of the same type wearing a black suit and dark glasses. The official took up a position on the far side of the room, arms folded, while the one who was obviously an XIA agent stood at the head of the table, looking at Ginta and Emma.

"I am Agent Thompson," he stated, utterly expressionless. "Let me assure you, Doctor Ginta and Doctor Emma, that you are not in any danger, nor have you violated any laws or regulations of the Kitsune Empire. Indeed, your work is of vital importance to our national security, and this is all being done to ensure your safety. I must apologize for the abruptness of this action, but once we found out your respective developments it was paramount that we relocate you as quickly and as secretly as possible. Your family and friends have been told that you have both been reassigned to a secret Imperial project, though they do not know where you will be working."

Thompson put both hands down on the table, leaning on it slightly.

"Because your work is so important to the Kitsune Empire, we could not allow Triad Corporation to hire you during this critical period, and there are certain laws in place which prohibit us from preventing you from working in the private industry. Additionally, there is now a security risk because of the vital nature of the projects you are both working on, so we needed to eliminate the threat of blackmail, kidnapping or assassination that our enemies might try to use against you, and against the Kitsune Empire. Naturally you will both be compensated for this upheaval, and will of course be allowed to return home at the end of the duration." He stepped back, nodding to the XIN official. "Captain, you have the floor."

The muddy brown kitsune took the agent's place, bowing slightly. "I am Captain Retemoto of the Defense Frigate Two, and the liaison officer for the system which harbors the world of Old Xiscapia. You are being relocated to research labs in the mountains near the Eastern Hub, where you will be under the guard of the troops of the Seven Hundred Twenty-Fourth Battalion. You will be supplied with all your old equipment and research, and both the FTLi and further weapons projects will be fully funded by the XIN. While you are on Old Xiscapia you will be permitted to send and receive messages to your friends and families, but be aware that they will undergo censorship at the local DXAS office, and that any unauthorized attempt to transmit secure data by these channels will be met with harshly. Your old contracts with the Xiscapian government still hold, including your NDAs, but you will be permitted to move freely throughout the colony, though XIA agents will be keeping an eye on you for your safety. Do either of you have any questions for myself or Agent Thompson?" His tone did not invite inquiries.

Ferra, Orbit...

The First Task Force entered the system with the XIW Fury in the middle, the XIW Pebble on the port side and the XIW Freedom on the starboard, their shields and weapons immediately powering up. They had their own method in attacking the Marlin vessel, which would require good synchronization and cooperation between the three warships. The Freedom released one hundred and fifty remote-controlled Shuriken fightercraft: The system now utilized so widely by the Alversians was originally an Xiscapian idea, though it had been gifted to the APN before the XIN could put Project Porcul, as it had been known, into effect. The program allowed starfighter pilots to control their ships though a highly advanced V.R. projection unit which would put them into their cockpits real-time, able to interact with their units as well as they would have been if they were physically present, but at no risk to themselves if their ship was disabled or destroyed. Initially there had been worries that the pilots would grow lax and less effective, knowing they weren't in any danger, but the V.R. was so real that one couldn't help but grin widely when an enemy fighter fell to a burst of the laser cannons or cry out if that reality was suddenly obliterated in a flash of light and fire.

Fifty of these Shuriken class strike craft, while entirely capable of dogfighting, were assigned to run bombing runs on the Marlin Supercapital, while the other hundred would fly as escorts and to replace those in the formation which were shot down. In modern times it was widely felt that snubfighters were useless for fighting bemenoth capital vessels, but in this case they were not utilized as such. Instead, they became moving missile platforms, dropping ion torpedos, nuclear missiles and antimatter warheads onto enemy shields and armor at an alarming pace from extremely close range, often too close to be countered in time even by fast point-defenses. The downside, of course, was that this put them that much closer to those weapons which were attempting to shoot them down, but the Squadron Leader would rely on the Shuriken's speed and jammers and the skill of the Imperial pilots to see them though. Thus the fighters as white as starbursts began their runs over the Danaversian fleet killer.

The Pebble moved startlingly swiftly for an asteroid a kilometer and a half long, tumbling end over end as it's engines fired, the bulbous shape of the coverted ship coming alongside the Marlin. Spinning on its axis like an insane marble, a manuver one would think would sicken the crew inside, she fired off her one hundred capital-killing heavy lasers, thirty Heavy Ion Cannons, two hundred Ion Cannons, eight Faceted Cutting Laser Cannons, eight Particle Beam Cannons and ten R.E.A.P.E.R. weapons while her five hundred anti-ship guns went to work on the Danaversian and Boolean small craft in support of the Xiscapian and Alversian fighters. Meanwhile the XIW Fury came directly on the Marlin's twelve o'clock, tactically moving to slide under her where, hopefully, the largest, most damaging weapons would be unable to strike the Korr Battleship. The Fury was unlike anything else in the Xiscapian Fleet: Her crew was massive be their standards, ten thousand plus, and she positively bristled with deadly if aging Korr batteries. Five hundred turbolasers, five hundred laser cannons and seventy five Ion cannons laced upward into the underbelly of the flagship, while twenty tractor beams, powered by a nuclear core, locked onto the gargantian and endevoured to keep her from manuvering.

Gurge looked out on all this as the battle began, knowing that once the Marlin was destroyed or so badly damaged she could no longer fight Ferra would be in the hands of the Coalition...well, Ferra's orbit, anyway. He knew the APN would do their job, as they always did, but he had seen all the reports on the Setulanite Navy, and, being the brash Korr he was, had loudly and frankly belittled their Naval power. True, the Battle of Colony One had caught them by surprise, true, the Battle of Havalia had been a total defeat for all involved and it hadn't been their fault, true, their latest colony had had only minimal orbital support, but he wondered where the backbone of their Captains and Admirals were. In the Korr Supermacy Navy, which he had served in, even a lowly Captain of a patrol squadron as he had been could have eaten the pitiful Setulanite frigates alive. He had heard good reports about their ground troops, so they were not totally inept, but he wondered if the Coalition would, once again, have to prop up the Republican Navy as they waged war with this terrible enemy.

"Keep a few scanners on the Setulanite Task Force," he ordered as the warship shuddered with the recoil of her turbolasers, "I want to see those scans after the battle..."

Joint Force HQ

Green opened one eye and leered at Dui in as comic a fashion as he could manage.
"Finally awake!" With barely any effort, he gripped the Kitsune around the waist and heaved her on top of him...and then Grimske knocked.
"Punctual bastard..." Reluctantly, Green called out to the Kitsune major.
"One moment please, Major." With a sigh, he swung his feet off of the bed and started to get dressed quickly.
"I'm not picky, you know, but another half hour would have been nice..."

Church

Marchamp nodded along, fascinated by the strange old man. He could not find it in himself to interrupt the wizened old Kitsune, and he was enthralled by the power that he commanded. Eagerly, he waited for more.

Ferra

With a swirl of blackness, the remains of Task Force Eternal Pain exploded out the warp from whence they came. Though horribly mangled by the failed assault on Havalia, they were far, far from weak. Any who had seen the battle of Havalia would recognize the formation as a smaller version of the Praetorian Spear.
In the center and very close for capitol ships were the two heaviest hitting vessels in the small fleet-Vile, upon which Vice Admiral Earl had his flag, and Desecration. The two Terror-Class gunships, each more than two kilometers long and covered in heavy guns, could not use their devestating nova cannons-for all that, they were not to be despised.
Two Fear-Class cruisers, Duke Leopold and Grast, were above and slightly behind the terror-class vessels. Though equipped with fewer guns, they had a surprising turn of speed.
Yellow and Blue squadron, each consisting of three Setulan-Class ion frigates, were directly above and below the formation.
Vulture, Heron, and Owl squadrons, each of three Storm-Class frigates, made a triangle with one point above and two below the Terror-Class cruisers.
Delta, Echo, and Foxtrot squadrons, each consisting of three Cobra-Class destroyers, hung far to the rear, as they held the entire 7th Army. Just in front of them were the two Harm-Class Carriers, Militant and Longevity.

Vice Admiral Earl looked upon his formation with satisfaction as it powered to the enemy, guns silent. The faces of all of his Captains were looking at him intently.
"Today," he began, and then he cleared his throat. "Today, we show the Danaversians we are no easy meat. Today, we show our allies that we are no paper tiger, that the Republican Navy is a power to be reckoned with. Today, we show the Coalltion-no, the Galaxy!-that though we may bend, we will never, ever break. Today, we remember our bretheren who have died before this day. Godspeed. Remember the Pain!"

With that last rousing word, the Setulan fleet engaged. Prows forward to present their strongest shields and armor, the ships shuddered as missiles-hundreds, thousands of missiles-erupted from various turrets on the ships. Mostly small, they were meant more as a distraction than as a serious threat. To the rear, more than three hundred bombers and five hundred fighters were launched from the two carrier ships, and they proceded to streak towards the Danaversians.
The two Fear-Class ships engaged with their dorsal mounted ion cannons, and the storm class frigates engaged as well...but for the time, that was all. The Setulan fleet forged on towards the enemy, waiting...waiting to cross the T.

Space Station Protector...

The ambassador contemplated this as she had another piece of the alien snackfood. "Very well. Contact the Berrax, and tell them that the Imperium of Belkaros will send aid to their system. What exactly we will send I cannot say, but I am sure that our forces will be more than adequate to hold off the Danaversian hordes. I will contact Belkan High Command at the conclusion of this meeting, though they will require star maps, system information and other logistical information."

Ferra

Bartlett stood on the bridge and watched as the fleet fully engaged the Danaversian blockade over the capital. The speed of the Coalition's arrival over the planet had caught the Shoal offguard and already, the combination of missiles, lasers, heavy shells from the Alversian fleet had dragged down ne of the Barracuda warships, perched above and beside the Marlin Fleet-killer. The shields of the vessel in front of him had flicked a violent green as the fire had focused on them before finally, there was no green shielding left to protect the vessel and flames licked from the impact areas, more and more fire finding it's target, twisting bulkheads, incinerating crew and throwing turrets clean from their mounts and into the growing field of debris that now surrounded the Danaversian warship. The flames would spread along the hull, igniting unused fighter fuel, blowing up ammuniton reserves until, finally, the engines themselves were engulfed and there was nothing to stop the Barracuda from simply falling to the planet's surface, overwhelmed by the natural force that was gravity. Those lucky enough to get to escape pods were able to sneak into another ship, those unlucky enough burned to death aboard their vessel once it punched through the atmosphere unshielded or were dragged outside to choke and hack their way to death in the airless void that was space. It had to be said that serving on a spacecraft about to be destroyed was a rather hideous way to go.

Bartlett dragged himself from that though and saw the Setulan fleet, the largest contributer to this Task Force, engaging another Barracuda to the right of the Marlin, watching it's shields succumb to the withering fire, though the Barracuda point defences destroyed a majority of the incoming missiles, enough got through to smash into the flank of the warship, to cut through bulkheads as before, killing Danaversians deep within the ship. The final straw that broke the camel's back was the destruction of the Second engineering room, that was controlling the vessel's orbit. Now out of control, it began to twist towards the surface, able to fire only with it's bottom mounted turrets before one final strike from the Setulans penetrated the bottom of the hull and blew the ship into two large fragments, ending the threat of that warship.

In the centre, the Marlin's shields were taking a pounding but, for the moment anyway, they were still up, the several kilometer long battleship delivering what it could of it's vast payload into the various ships that had assailed it, no fewer then twelve turbolaser batteries fired on the Xiscapian ships, with dozens of missiles slipping from various tubes to strike at the Coalition speartip. Congor fighters swarmed in to attack the Fury's tractor beam emitters, determined to free their Mothership as the shields finally began to wither and die, exposing the vessel to any and all attack.

The Alversian fleet was also getting closer to the Danaversian Shoal, vessels like the Challenger seemingly surrended by fire as all kinds of weapons along her entire length engaged the enemy, the bridge shuddering under both the fire being absorbed and the fire being dished out from the heavy turrets along her length. The Alversians had generally decided to leave anti-fighter duty to their own AA fire and keep most of the fighters for the ground operations to follow. They wandered the battle in small groups, targeting Congor fighters that were exposed or without cover, risking missile attacks on the smaller and less well armed vessels in orbit, many of whom were attempting to flee. Bartlett saw this and turned to the Operations Officer, who was watching the deployment of the fleet during the battle,
"Is Mpenza in position?" He asked the Lieutenant patiently.

The Lieutenant, a veteran of a dozen battles and wearing the scars to prove it, nodded,
"Yes Sir, the Mickey Saan is in position."

"Good, very good." The Cruiser section of the IX Fleet had been deployed to stop vessels attempting to break orbit for a hyperspace jump. The Heavy Cruiser Mickey Saan, commanded by Rear Admiral Josef Mpenza was in the centre of a ring with the cruisers Intensity, Charity, Duality and Trinity. All ready to stop a retreat.

Meanwhile the Xiscapian and Setulan fighters would find themselves besieged by swarms of fighters, not Congor fighters but something different, a much different design that gave off no life readings at all. These were Fighter Droids, unseen before in the Danaversian Wars but now, currently swarmed all over the fighters from both nations.

Starrider

"N...no" Emma was still perched on Ginta's knee, gazing up at the Kitsune who had identified himself as Agent Thompson. The Agent had made everything crystal clear, they had been taken from their homes, familes and jobs just for contract purposes? She was disappointed the Government did not have more faith in her moral character. She worked on weapons for the government because it would end this terrible war more quickly. She was not going to defect to some money-soaked Industry just for better wages, especially seeing as she was already quite well off thanks to her father.

Her tail wrapped around Ginta's leg as she looked at the Agent with wide, innocent eyes,
"So what happens now? Are we stuck on Old Xiscapia until the end of the war?"

APNHQ, Illesia City

"That would be most satisfactory," Sasha nodded, pleased that the matter had been sorted, if these things were to wander around Alversian Cities, then they would need that armour so as not to frighten the Civilians who would not be pursuaded by their fighting prowess,
"How many troops do you plan to deploy to the Alversian Sector?" She asked.

Joint Force HQ...

"Mmhmm," Dui sighed softly and rose too, crawling across the bed and quickly throwing on the newly issued JD dress uniform (http://vanilla-rain.deviantart.com/art/GS-AA-version-new-uniform-98607614), the yellow-black Setulanite Combatant Medal, Second Class swinging slightly with the movement, pulling on her boots and taking a moment to see to her hair. It had felt so good, it seemed like she'd been away from Xiscapia, and from Green's touch, for an eternity, but now they had to deal with the war again. She huffed: It was like an intrusive houseguest, demanding, prying, not letting them a moment of peace.

"I'm not picky, you know, but another half hour would have been nice..."

"Blame XGA efficiency," Dui smirked, saw Green was dressed, and called out to Grimske. "Come in, Major."

The kitsune strode in, dressed in a similar fashion to Dui, not a silver fur out of place, holding a couple of small chrome boxes under his arm. He passed one to Green and one to Dui, bowing. "The XGA has seen fit to present both of you with a medal..." He trailed off as the kitsune and human opened the containers. Green would find a small medal (http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41VB5%2B1V-rL._SL500_AA280_.jpg) resting on the felt inside, with a printed card which read:

The White Yin-Yang Medal: Awarded to Colonel Green for showing bravery and courage by rescuing a comrade under fire during the Battle of Miller. A soldier of the Xiscapian Grand Army is indebted to you. May your valor be an example for all our people, both on the frontline and back home.

It was signed by a Major General Genko. Below that was a small piece of paper with a quick scrawl of handwriting on it:

Good job, but run towards the enemy next time.
Master General Dom

Meanwhile, Dui had extracted what appeared to be a small ivory fang with a crack in the middle hanging from a decorative pin: The Broken Tooth Medal, awarded to those wounded in combat. She now looked over Green's shoulder, eyes passing over the award to the note at the bottom. "I'd keep that," she nodded to the folded, slightly scruffy paper, "it'll probably be worth something someday."

"It was also felt, ma'am, that you are long overdue for a promotion." Grimske bowed again, and handed Dui a bar insignia and a new tag which read the rank Brigadier. Dui seemed surprised, taking the tag and holding it up to the light, smiling. "Huh," she smiled wickedly at Green, "I guess this means I can order you to get me coffee now, instead of asking politely."

"Please, Brigadier, Colonel," Grimske bowed again, almost compulsively, "you are expected at the dockyards. I have some good news to share with you on the way, and the speeder is waiting. Please, come."

Church...

Miyagi took a long drink before continuing. "We do not pretend to know who created this," he spread an arm expansively, "universe, or why, but we do know the infinitely more important things, those being who created us, and why." His eyes twinkled. "The spirits and supernatural aspects which manipulate us also affect all who come in contact with us, in different ways and in varying degrees, they affect you, Ambassador, they affect the Alversians, the Belkans, even the Booleans and Danaversians." Another sip. "Some would say especially the Booleans and Danaversians. In that regard, there are two great forces at work: Qonn and his servants, which are of light, creation and the elements of air and earth, and the god Bodom and his minions, who are of darkness, destruction and the elements of water and fire. It is essential to understand that Bodom is not evil, not in the way you would understand evil as: He is a continuation and a harmony, he and Qonn compliment each other. For there to be light, there must be darkness, for life to exist, there must be death, for things to be build others must be destroyed."

A short silence.

"While we outwardly present one face, there are actually two denominations here in the Church: One which seeks to understand and borrow the power of Qonn, the other of Bodom. May nghien," he gestured to the other kitsune, "is one of the Cult of Bodom, who seeks conference with me as needed. We are not, you see, opposing forces, enemies as it were: Rather we work together. While the priests of Qonn might help a child into this realm, the cultists of Bodom would assist the passing of his dying grandfather; where we bring stark illumination, they bring comforting darkness."

May nghein finally spoke, his voice lilting but deep, but it was in what sounded like the Xiscapian tounge, so Miyagi translated as he spoke unto Marchamp.

"Chúa trời Qonn của danh dự, sự vui thích, và sự sáng chói Bodom của vô địch, sức mạnh, và sự khủng bố. Qonn là Người bảo vệ, Ông ta Ai Tạo ra. Bodom là Quân nhân, Ông ta mà phá hủy. Chúng tôi là,", here he seemed to struggle for words, gesturing, "henotheistic, có nhiều chúa trời khác, nhưng đây là của chúng ta Và Đây Người mà Chúng tôi đi theo sau."

"The god Qonn is of honor, delight, and brilliance; Bodom is of invincibility, might, and terror. Qonn is the Guardian, He who Creates. Bodom is the Warrior, He who Destroys. We are," "henotheistic, there are many other gods, but these are ours and these are who we follow."

Space Station Protector...

"I have all the information you need," Vanadict extracted a small device, simply a data crystal with a interface divice attatched on the bottom, "here." She slid it across the table. "This contains a starmap of the system which Nova Max, the Berrax homeworld, inhabits, as well as those of Laxer, Hurtix and Grux as indicated by old Greali records. It also possesses the last known Berrax Army and Navy strength, though those numbers have probably risen dramatically since the onset of the war." Clearly, the one called Vanadict had been well prepared for the meeting, responding almost as though she knew what the Belkan would be saying in advance. She must be a shrewd diplomat indeed, to be so perceptive as to the concerns of the Imperium.

Meanwhile, a pre-recorded message went out from the Protector, where an operator had been awaiting the signal, to the Berrax Republic.

President Callin,

The Imperium of Belkaros will be sending ships and troops to assist you very soon. Once your situation has been stabilized an Xiscapian Ambassador will contact you to assess the results. Let it never be said that the Kitsune Empire forgets her allies.

-

Starrider...

Thompson stepped forward again.

"We cannot say at this time how long you'll be stationed on Old Xiscapia. Ideally you would stay only as long as it takes to test and clear your latest inventions, but circumstances are changing quickly at the front; matters could alter overnight. We'll try to get you back home as soon as possible, Doctor, but I can't make any promises."

Ferran Orbit...

Abruptly the Pebble broke off, shields flickering and flaring under the onslaught, commiting her full weapon compliment to combating the missiles and moving away from the Marlin, going wide. The Fury dipped in space, shaking under the blasts from the supercapital, tractor lock breaking, still firing back but falling lower and lower in orbit as though crippled. The fighter-bombers, having made their runs, banked and twisted off their runs as explosions wracked the hull of the enemy ship, speeding away to combat the new threat of the droid starfighters. If one didn't know better, they would say the Xiscapians were breaking and running, darting away as the Marlin shook free. However, the Freedom mantained its position, a huge white bulk lording itself over the Danaversian ship, looking unaccountably menacing.

XIW Freedom, Bridge...

Captain Fudo watched a section of the Marlin's shields hiss and die, exposing the hull like a hole in a quilt exposing the bedding beneath. "There," he breathed, and the other two officers on the dated but still effective Calaverian Observer began to configure the targeting computer to center on the vulnerability. The ship really was remarkable: The Calaverians hadn't been the most progressive of peoples, but the Freedom, formerly the Lenin, withstood the onslaught from the Danaverisans and shrugged it off like a passing irritation. She was, first and formost, a carrier, holding small craft, assault troops, equipment and supplies, able to fight a small campaign like the incoming Ferran one by herself. Indeed, within her bowls she contained the Five Hundred Eleventh Grand Army Battalion under Lieutenant Colonel Vin, with a number of mechanized units, which would be supported by the very fighters the Freedom was carrying.
But of course there was the matter of this Marlin supercapital fleet-killer.

"Plasma-Ping has been charged to one hundred percent, sir."

Fudo smiled. It was not a nice smile. The last Captain who had been aboard this ship had had the singular honor of destroying the moon of Kratos, or as Fudo's father would have said "blowin' 'er to smithereens" with the same cannon that was now ready for use. There had only been so many chunks of rock left afterwards, and to Fudo's knowledge it had never been used directly on an unshielded vessel: He was anxious to see what it would do.
Time to exploit the gap.

"Fire." He said the word with relish. "Fire immediately!"

The dish on the outside of the Freedom's command module hummed, unheard in space, and discharged. The plasma exhast was invisible, seen as something like a heat wave rippling though space, and it came within direct contact with the unshielded hull of the Danaversian Marlin. Fudo knew the Calaverian strategy had been to destroy an opposing starship with this one powerful weapon and defeat the supporting craft with their fighters before landing ground troops, but it had never actually worked, not to it's fullest extent. He wondered what the builders of the Communist-affiliated capital ship would think if they knew one of their creations was being used by an Imperial nation over a capitalist world to kill facsists.

Joint Force HQ

Green looked at the medal in surprise, then chuckled when he read the message from Dom.
"I think I will keep it," he said, and then he gently placed the medal and the note back in the box, putting it on a bedstand.
"Until I learn where it goes in order of precedence with the other ones," he explained. "I don't want to do something that will offend people." He stopped short. "Well, more people."

"I guess this means I can order you to get me coffee now, instead of asking politely."

Green looked like he was about to respond, a look Dui would recognize as somewhere between dirty and amused on the Colonel's face, but he (probably wisely, with the Major in the room) bit his tongue. Bowing slightly to Dui, he couldn't resist a small jab.
"After you, Brigadier ma'am! A humble Colonel should not walk out the door first."

Church

Marchamp nodded in understanding, for he did understand-it was like physics in the sense that for every action there was an equal and opposite reaction. He understood physics-he had been trying to defy them his entire life. He waited once more for the priest to go on.

Ferra, Orbit

Earl smiled slightly to himself as he watched the Danaversian warship burn up in the atmosphere, but he did not allow himself to feel any other emotions. There was still work to do...and he would do it. Shields flashed green as Danaversian fire smacked into them, but for the time all shields held.
For he had a choice to make. The Preatorian fist gave him two optins. First was to continue on and smash directly into the enemy formation, allowing the powerful vessels to use both banks of guns on the enemy, doubling his firepower. The downside was obvious-a loss of unit coherency. His second option was to cross the T and present just one bank of guns to the enemy.
After about fifteen seconds of thought, he made up his mind. Though the romantic in him wanted to engage with the enemy breast-to-breast, so to speak, and he was confident in victory if he followed that option, he did not want to appear reckless to his allies.
"Range for the macros?"
"Optimal, sir."
"Understood. Vox man! Message to fleet-cross the T."
The entire fleet, as one, turned forty five degrees on plane, presenting their broadsides to the enemy. They all fired a single volley.
Five hundred cruiser Macro cannons fired, each one sending a single, massive thousand-ton projectile at the enemy.
Then the escorts fired their slightly smaller (seven hundred fifty ton) guns, sending six hundred seventy five shells screaming as fast as thought to the Danaversians.
Every thirty seconds, another massive shell sailed towards enemy ships, creating a wall of screaming metal that was a combination of explosive, corrosive, and downright nasty.
The smaller, more agile Setulan-Class frigates also engaged with their ion cannons, a far smaller number sailing towards the enemy (108 total shots every ten seconds). The shield busting ion weapons were concentrated by squadron-thirty six to an enemy ship.

The fighter crews got to work with a relish. Though the drones were devilishly fast and agile, the Bentnose so favored by Setulan had the advantage of being more heavily armed and armored than their oponents. Though almost a dozen fighters were killed in the opening volleys (they had expected the Congors and were caught completely by surprise), they adapted well and fought on as best they could.

Starrider

"I see..." Emma said slowly, trying to make sense of everything. It was all happening so quickly, too quickly for her to really comprehend. However, her family prided itself on it's quick thinking and adaptibility, if she had to make a life for herself on an unfamiliar world, then she would do just that. At least she had Ginta by her side to help her come to terms with what was happening,
"I assume accomodation has been arranged?" She asked Thompson in a strong voice, though still looking up from Ginta's lap, "and suitable arrangements made for our absence?" She knew her Father would not have taken the news well.

Ferra, Orbit

The Marlin was hit by the ping blast and, for lack of a better word, disintegrated. The bow at least, was left with a large hole cutting cleanly from top to bottom throughout all decks of the vessel. Almost immediately, it's guns fell silent and escape pods shot out in all directions, heading either for the surface or the other ships in orbit. The explosion from the ping gun had thrown up a small debris field in all directions, making it hazardous for any small ship to risk getting closer to the Marlin. One thing was clear anyway. It had been disabled.

The Congors wisely decided not to pursue the retreating Xiscapian asteroid, instead sending the swarms of Drone Fighters instead. They did not fire missiles, nor did they strafe the Xiscapian ship. Instead, they plowed into it, too many of them to be repelled by Point Defences, all ramming with a singular determination to wipe the thing out.

The Setulan barrage was effective, as explosions were thrown up from three more Danaversian warships no longer able to repel the bombardment. However, the Danaversian commanders had seen the Setulan plan and turned their own hulls to broadside, revealling row upon row of massive turbolaser batteries. Once fired, the Danaversians were able to throw over 600 bolts of all sizes, from the massive turbo lasers themselves, to the smaller, less powerful anti-ship form. All streaked towards the Setulans, accompanied by hundreds of missiles fired from the Drone fighters who were not engaging the Setulan Fighters.

Elsewhere, Barlett watched in satisfaction as two more Barracuda's erupted into flame, destroyed by the Alversian heavy weapons batteries. The Alversians were closing on the Danaversian Shoal, bringing more and more weaponry to bear as it came into range of the enemy ships. The Challenger was leading the offensive, while the other ships were deployed in a loose formation, concentrating their fire on the most powerful warships first. It seemed to work. One by one, the Danaversian ships began to retreat, jumping into Hyperspace to avoid the destruction their breathren had suffered. They left behind a dozen ruined, floating hulks, all that was left of the Danaversian fleet.

Bartlett quickly sent a communique to the fleet, as well as relaying the signal back to Dela,
"The Garrison fleet has been defeated. Deploy Fighters immediately."

As he said it, the Alversian fleet launched thousands of fighters, streaming towards the surface in a swarm of fighters, determined to rip through the defences before the troops had even landed. It would be a couple of minutes before the Alversian landing ships and additional units of Fighters arrived. Until then, Bartlett was satisfied to wait.

"Each fleet will take a trio of cities to blockade," He reported to the fleet, before sending them their co-ordinates. The Alversian fleet would remain in position, to blockade the capital and surrounding area of the Infantry advance. The Xiscapians were given Des, Manos and Juluka to blockade, to the north of the planet, while on the other side of orbit, the Setulans were given Jaas, Benni and Kalacka.

Joint Force HQ...

"How gracious," Dui strutted by, followed by Green and Grimske out to the waiting hovercar. The sky was still overcast but now it was a lighter gray, not casting the land into shadow as it had before, and it was no longer freezing cold. As they all settled onto the plush leather seats of the heated interior and the driver let the vehicle silently move down the road out of the HQ compound Grimske leaned across Dui to Green.

"Congratulations Colonel, Brigadier, on the successful rescue operation the Joint Division carried out on Miller. I've seen the early reports now, it would appear that all civilians were evacuated to Coalition space and that casualties were relatively light. Danaversian and Boolean dead is estimated at a combined three hundred thousand plus." The Major was smiling, or at least snarling in a friendly way.

"Additionally, a certain Lieutenant Tanj of Blue LAM squad Nine has proposed a formal name and symbol design for the Joint Division." Grimske handed over a patch (http://s212.photobucket.com/albums/cc317/Xiscapia/?action=view&current=HandofJudgement.gif) that was configured to be sewn onto a dress or casual uniform. "He has suggested that the Joint Division be called the 'Hand of Judgement' with the motto 'This Machine Kill Fascists.' As the highest officers in the Joint Division, it was felt that the decision should go to you."

Dui looked at the patch, then at Green. "Well I like it," she murmured, running a finger along the raised outline of the bloodied hand in the center. "What do you think, Colonel?"

Church...

Miyagi reached within his robes and withdrew a black and white symbol (http://z.about.com/d/taoism/1/0/0/-/-/-/yinYang.gif) inlaid with silver dangling from a chain. "This is the symbol of Qonn, as most non-Xiscapians know it," he placed the idol in Marchamp's palm, "but what most don't know is that is represents both Qonn and Bodom. It is the same rune we have placed upon your brow for your protection in this place. The white half represents Qonn; the black part, Bodom. You can see there is a spot of darkness within the purity, and a bit of light within the dank: This represents the light and darkness within all things. They conform perfectly to each other, symbolizing harmony and intertwined unity, working off of each other, as the priests of Qonn and the cultists of Bodom do."

The ancient one smiled and a queer thing happened with his eyes, the wrinkles almost seeming as though they were smiling as well. "Our religion has been around since before the first of the Ancient Texts were written. We priests are the scribes, the record keepers and the historians; it is to us many come if they wish to learn of Xiscapian, and indeed kitsune, history. The Ancient Texts contain all of this, as well as lists of symbols and their meanings and uses and the instructions and guidance Qonn has left his People and those who would serve him. If you wish we can gift one to you for further study, Prime Minister, but stories, like food, are best presented fresh." The smile.

"Do you have any questions before we begin the tales of our ancestors and their thoughts and deeds?"

XIW Starrider...

"Of course, Doctor," Thompson made a motion that was somewhere between a nod and a bow. "You will have your own rooms at a hotel in the Eastern Hub, and we have our own agents taking care of your assets and holdings in the Motherland."

Ferran Orbit...

The droid fighters would find themselves set upon from behind by the Xiscapian Shuriken class fighters who, largely deprived of large targets, fell upon the enemy small craft with fury. This, combined with the rapid, accurate and high-volume PD fire from the Pebble, contributed to the annihilation of the enemy force and the makings of several aces among the kitsune pilots as they brought down the eight hostile targets required to gain the honor in the XIN. The Freedom began to pick up escape pods from the destroyed Danaversian ships, loading them into the bay of the huge Observer so the POWs could be detained and processed for eventual transport away from the warzone. Finally the Fury, coming from under the burning hulk of the Marlin, took a position high "above" the battlefield, Korr gunners taking the occasional potshot at a fleeing fighter or intact-looking piece of debris. The 10,000+ crew was entirely Korr, and throughout the halls and corridors of the huge Battleship there were roars, cries and screams of victory.
They had a good reason to celebrate.

Flortilla Captain Gurge contacted Admiral Barlett and Rear Admiral Earl with a great smile on his fanged face. "Admirals," he nodded his boulder-shaped head, "I believe that we have just set a record for the fastest destruction of a supercapital and her accompanying fleet in both Korr and Xiscapian, and perhaps Coalition, history. We have incurred only moderate damage to our shields on all three vessels and lost twenty-seven snub fighters...with zero casualties." He slammed a gigantic fist down on the counter beside him so hard the screen shook, a fierce gleam in his eyes. "That was for Havalia."

The Freedom moved in over Des, the Pebble on top of Manos and the Fury cast Juluka into shadow. As the remaining one hundred and twenty three fighters headed back to the Freedom all three ships of the First Task Force began to disgorge small craft of all shapes and sizes. Out of the Freedom came another hundred and fifty Shurikens, which took blockade positions around their mothership to prevent any ships from escaping from the surface. From the Pebble forty-eight fighters, six corvettes, thirty Light Assault Mecha and fifteen Heavy Assault Mecha spilled out, all heading for the surface: They would split into three groups of sixteen fighters, two corvettes, ten LAM and five HAM each to fly over the cities for suppression and lockdown duties. Finally the Fury spat out a single large Crusher class troop transport, two Runner drop ships, an assault shuttle and one Supermech, all awaiting orders as to where to land the Xiscapian contingent of ground troops for the march to the Ferran capital.

Joint Force HQ

As Green got into the car, a private soldier (obviously human by his size) ran up and handed the Colonel a thick envelope before leaving without saying a word. Green took it curiously and stuck it into his breast pocket before climbing in.

"What do you think, Colonel?"

Green took the patch and inspected it closely.
"Hmm..."This machine kills facists?" He laughed, a deep booming noise. "I like it." Curiously, he pulled the letter out of his breast pocket and ripped it open, and two silver oak leaves fell out. He knew what they were and what it must mean-it was time to reap what he had sown. With some trepidition, he read the letter.

URGENT
CONFIDENTIAL
TO: COLONEL MIKE GREEN
FROM: THEATER-GENERAL BORNDECKER

You are one dumb son of a bitch, do you realize that? Honestly, Green, I give you command of the 1st Rifles, our most prestigious unit, and you shit all over it. You RAN, Green. I don't give a flying fuck why, you damn well RAN. You fucked up on such an epic scale, I almost-almost!-want to have your men execute you on the spot. Failing that, it is my desire-and the desire of the entire headquarters staff of the Republican Guard-to have you turn big rocks into small rocks for the rest of your natural life, or even better, kick your ass out of an airlock naked.
And it gets better. You not only made MY UNIT look like shit to ME, you made our prestigious allies think we are shit too. I have recieved calls from the Alversian Peoples Army AND some pretentious asshole of a Xiscapian demanding your scalp, and by the gods, I almost want to give it to them.
Luckily for you, there are extenuating circumstances.
For one thing, I want to stick it to that fucking fur-between-the-ears kitsune who has the balls to tell me what to do. For another, you are-for better or worse-one of the best tactical thinkers in the Guard, and have the respect of your men. It would be bad for the 1st Republican to give them a new CO right now-bad for morale and organization. For that reason, you can consider your ass BUSTED BACK TO LIEUTENANT COLONEL. You will still be the nominal commander of the Republicans, but Brigadier Dui will have final say in all actions-no more of this mutual command shit.
You are on thin ice, LIEUTENANT COLONEL. If you step one gods-damned inch out of line, I will crush your career like a matchstick and arrange for you to have an accident.

Signed,
Theater-General Borndecker
CO Republican Guard

Green read the letter through without flinching, but as he finished he let out a long breath. Without pause, he started to remove the silver eagles from his collar and replace them with the silver oak leaves. Wordlessly, he handed the document to Dui.

Church

Marchamp sat back slightly.
"I would greatly appreciate one of these tomes, if you would. Please, continue-I am most intrigued."

Ferra, Orbit

Shields flared and flashed under the intense Danaversian bombardment. With a hollow bang, unheard in the vast emptiness of space, two shields failed-one on the Storm-Class frigate Idoine and, far worse, on the Grast.
Idoine took a hammering that crippled it almost instantly-several of the plasma bolts smashed into the engine, immobilizing it, and another took out several of the flank guns.
Grast, while badly damaged, was not crippled-scorch marks stood out defiantly on the hull as the proud warship ejected gun bays to prevent them from exploding.

The real pain, however, came from the missiles.

While most of the ships took moderate damage of some kind or another, the two wounded vessels were hardest hit by far. Idoine, its engines damaged, did not have enough power to operate all of its point defenses, and it took four missiles, blowing away chunks of the warship-including a single missile which penetrated to the bridge, killing the Captain.
Grast was also hard hit, taking no fewer than four missiles to its ranks of gun bays. Four guns were wiped out as a result, killing the gun crews instantly.

Rear Admiral Earl, despite the damage to his fleet, smiled with victory as the Danaversians fled the system. He turned to one of his officers.
"Casualty figures?"
"Light, sir. Grast reports thirty KIA and seventy four WIA, with thirty two still missing. Unknown numbers from Idoine, sir-the rest of the squadron is conducting SAR operations now. We lost eighteen Bentnose fighters and no bombers. We have victory, sir."
Earl recieved the two Admirals with a grim smile on his face.
"Gentlemen, I believe that is what they call success." He did not, however, share the Korr Admiral's feelings-this was only the start of vengence. He and his comrades would not be satisfied until the Danaversians felt their pain.
Earl snapped his fingers to his flight control officer, and the man got on the vox.
"Commence Phase Two. I repeat, Commence Phase Two."
To the rear of the formation, the two Harm-Class carriers moved up until they were intermingled with the rest of the fleet. They stopped forward motion...and out of their bays thousands of fighters and bombers launched, driving for the surface of the planet in fire missions coordinated with the Alversians. It was almost time.

OOC- Sorry fellas, last week of High School, and I need to graduate. Carry on without me for a bit.

Starrider

Emma nodded slightly at the response, understanding that, although she had been taken from her home without so much as a 'by your leave' the Agents were doing everything possible to assure that there would be minimal disruption to her regular life on Xiscapia. However, while that may have looked good in an Agent's report and when meeting with a bunch of senior Officals, Emma knew differently. Her father was tempramental enough these days and the loss of another Daughter would not go down well in his household. She would have to speak with him as soon as possible, calm down the anger she knew he would be feeling. It was so unfair to him that this kept happening to their family. Ever since their Mom had died, her Father had put his heart and soul into his four Daughters, trying to give all of them the best start he could with the wealth he had gained during the decades the Xiscapian Empire had spent at war it's mortal enemy, the Korr Supremacy.

The death of his eldest Daughter, Chloe, had ripped his very heart and soul from his body and changed him forever. He would never admit that any one of his daughters could be classed as his favourites, but Chloe had always held a special place in his heart. As the eldest, she had been the pioneer of the sisters, completing school first, getting a boyfriend first, she had acted as the guiding light for the others who had following. They had all, including Emma herself, looked up Chloe as an idol, the always strong but kind and selfless Kitsune had been the sort of person that one could follow easily. According to what a very distressed Sophie had said once she had returned from that fateful trip, it had been these traits that had been Chloe's downfall. Their Father had never really gotten over it. He spent much of his days looking up at the stars, as if he could see his Daughter somewhere amongst the infinite number of stars, as if one of those was the soul of his Daughter. He had become irritatable, bad tempered, reclusive. His soul ruined forever by her loss.

Emma had initially struggled after Chloe's death. Like the others, she had cried for days on end, refusing to leave her bedroom, clinging to an image of her sister as if her very warmth could bring the image to life and bring her Sisiter back to her again. Even now, she tried hard not to think about it, for even mentioning it brought tears to her eyes as she thought of that young, smiling face and how she would never see her again. She hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye. She had been seventeen when she had died. She would have been twenty-seven now. Such a terrible waste of such a promising life.

Emma looked back at the Agent,
"I want to speak with my father as soon as possible," She said in an even tone, still perched on Ginta's knee. She could not complain about her company anyway,
"He will want to know how I am being treated."

Ferra

As the Coalition fleet deployed to it's designated positions, the second Alversian fleet arrived into the system. It consisted of several dozen transports of the Alversian People's Army, carrying the ground forces that would be needed to bring in a regime change throughout the Ferran government. The transports were escorted and supported by the Destroyers of the IX Fleet, held back from the main battle specifically for this purpose. Accompanying the two Destroyers were more Destroyers of the Home Fleet, donated for this escorting duties along with the Carriers Harpe and Trident carrying the strike Fighters that would support all sections of the land assualt once the battle began proper. The Battle-carrier Goliath was already using her large numbers of fighters to strike at airfieds, at AAA guns, at surface AS batteries and main assembly points to ensure that the Ferran/Danaversian forces on the surface would be unable to offer significant resistance to the landing forces once they hit the mud and were forming up for the advance.

The landing ships were already on the descent, the Carriers unable to land their passengers effectively until the Land forces had secured secure airfieds for them to use for the duration of their stay, as they were not built for operations aboard Alversia's new Carrier fleet. The first of the ships landed on the surface of Ferra, landing well to the east of the capital, to avoid the worst of the defences until the troops were ready for an attack.

Army Group North, LZ

The Alversian Battalions quickly spilled from the landing ship ramps, expecting to be confronted by the rattling to repeating blasters or missiles from hidden troops. Instead, they found a wonderfully scenaric scene that boasted wide, open fields of emerald green grass reflecting brightly from the intense sunlight. The tall trees grouped togather like small islands in the sea of grass, intermingled with fields of waist-high golden barley that rippled like waves in the gentle breaths of wind that danced sprodically through the plains area. In the far horizon, thick, black, ugly smoke snaked upwards into the sky, evidence of the Navy's fighters doing their job for the landing forces.

The Infantry were already deployed, the three Legions that were to support the Xiscapian troops that had landed to the north, along with Ferran Refugees who had fled from thier planet to escape repression now returned shoulder to shoulder with the most impressive Army Ferra had seen in a long, long time. One of the Battalions deployed was the Guards 610th Battalion, a Kitsune Unit, fresh from the fields of Miller, rerouted to this battle to assist the Coalition Army, it's commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Saan, a hero from that battle. It was understrength from the battle and it's troops were tired, even so, the addition of a Guards' Battaion was not something that one turned down often.

Saan weaved between the gathering Ferran Troops, both Private and APA, looking for the Command Centre of the Xiscapian 511th Battalion, whom Saan understood were Alversians and, in all likely hood, would be spearheading the advance. He finally found them beside the Artillery park where the hundreds of artillery pieces were assembled in preparation for the coming campaign.

He arrived at the Sentry line and returned the offered the salute from the Alversian Soldier there,
"Where is your commanding Officer?" He asked, having to shout over the rumbles as dozens upon dozens of tanks drove in column to their arranged parking spaces.

Army Group South, LZ

The Alversian troops to the south, landing with the Setulan Seventh Army, were confronted with a less pleasant proposition than their northern Breathren. Instead of inviting fields and innocent countryside, they found themselves looking up at thick, grey inpeneterable cloud pouring a never ceasing payload on the threatening and steep mountains that made up the southern mountain range, a range that this part of the Coalition Army would need to navigate and, arguably, the most dangerous thing facing the Coalition troops. The Commander of the Alversian troops, General Anderson, went looking for his Setulan Opposite number, who would be leading the offensive. The Alversians had landed three Battalions in this area, for a total of 15,000 combat infantry, though the only artillery and armour that would be available in the thin and dangerous mountain passes would be the strike fighters of the APAAF and APNAF that were waiting for the airfields to be cleared for their landing.

The Ferran ground war had begun.

Staff Car...

Dui read the letter quickly, then, as she reached the end, once more, slower this time. She exhaled heavily as she handed the dispatch to Major Grimske for his own viewing and looked sadly at Green's silver eagle patches. "Doesn't seem quite fair," she murmured, "my getting promoted and your getting, well," she shrugged helplessly, "demoted. But," she sighed again, "Theater-General Borndecker does have a point. From what I've heard the APA does want your head on a stake, and I don't know who the 'pretentious asshole of a Xiscapian' is, but if he can get though to a Theater-General I'm inclined to believe he's pretty high up somewhere too." She gave him an amputee's smile. "Well, it could be worse, you could be digging out latrines on some colony world, instead of here with me."

Grimske, having read the letter, gave his own two cents. "The XGA won't be pressing charges," he told Green and Dui quietly. "An official complaint will be filed, of course, but between the Alversians and the...private interest, I don't think you need any more help," a slight pause, "Lieutenant Colonel." He shook his head. "I'm afraid this somewhat blackens my good news...I've just received a report that the Danaversian-held world of Pamp is under assault by Calaverian and Xiscapian forces." He smiled. "Initial reports look good, if confused, but General Caedo, the Supreme Coalition Commander there, believes the planet will fall within twenty-four hours."

Church...

Miyagi nodded and May nghein stood and stepped into the shadows, coming back out a moment later holding a heavy, brown leather-bound book with gilded silver pages in his arms, presenting it to Marchamp. "Một món quà, Đại sứ." A gift, Ambassador.

Miyagi finished his tea and leaned back slightly on his pillow, a wizened smile contemplating the darkness. If Marchamp had not already met the Old One, he would have sworn the aged kitsune was senile, for it looked at though not a thought inhabited his head. May nghein perched exactly opposite on his seat, eyes intense and always shifting, watching Miyagi, watching Marchamp, watching Jade, staring at the flickering candle flame before him, restless. The Empress, for her part, seemed entirely at ease, sipping her tea and waiting without speaking, seemingly content to allow Marchamp to enjoy the experience without intrusion from her. They existed in this manner for several seconds more before Miyagi finally began to speak.

"Where our recorded history begins we still resided on Old Xiscapia, many thousands of years ago, and the technology we are so proud of today was then only about that of Medieval, swords, bows and arrows, light metal armor and the like. This was the time of war between the various kingdoms of Old Xiscapia, and the only unification was under the Council of Elders, who strive for peace between all people. One dark day a scout from the Kingdom of Mysan, whose ruler is a direct ancestor to Empress Jade's, spotted a curious thing.

It was like the moon, but smaller, and had landed in a field not far from his village. But when he looked to the sky, he saw the moon which hung in the balance between the gods and the mortals was still there. And this moon seemed too smooth, not like the craggy, pockmarked surface he knew. He went to touch it, but the a mysterious force repelled him, throwing him back into the forest with great force Terrified, the scout fled and told all of the village, but by the time he had roused up warriors to investigate, demons came from the moon. They were creatures from the depths of the Forgotten Realms, spitting fire and slaughtering all they came upon.

The village was torched and all those who tried to stop them were killed, and the rest of the village fled to the security of the forest. The demons hunted them, but the kitsune kept well hidden and picked off the ones who went alone. Night fell and it turned the demons were not so brave to stay in the same forest at night as those who turned the hunters to the hunted. They returned to their moon. The villagers cracked open the outer shell of one of the demons they had killed, and found inside that it was more like a insect than anything else, all soft meat and shriveled parts. They cooked and ate it, and found that it was good.

Still, the Council Of Elders called a meeting with all the chiefs and kings of the various tribes and kingdoms of Old Xiscapia. They prayed to Qonn, who was then and always will be our god. It was agreed that we could not engage the demons in open combat, where it would be a massacre, but when one got close they were easily dispatched. So, using their magic granted by Qonn, in a few short days the Elders had assembled an army from all the countries, and under the cover of darkness, they infiltrated the moon.

Inside were wonders that they had never seen the like, but the warriors had no time to explore. They sought out all the demons and killed every last one while they slept. The moon was large, and before long the halls of the moon were awash with blood. In the end this unified army returned victorious, and all over Old Xiscapia there was much rejoicing. The Council of Elders called another meeting, and Qonn told them the moon and it's demons had come from the stars, and that more would follow in time. This worried the Elders and all the leaders, and they asked what they should do. Qonn told them to learn the ways of the moon.

So they did. It was recognized that only though unification, combining all the talents and culture of Old Xiscapia, could they hope to maximize their spoils to their full potential, and protect themselves from further marauders. From this moon they made fire weapons of their own, and armored shells to protect them, but they never forgot the virtues of being unarmored, or the elegance with which a sword kills that a gun cannot match. With these they made their first starcraft, forging weapons as a united Republic under the Elders and leaders.

From there they were forced to fend off many attacks from these demons from the stars, and each time they acquired new technology and added it to their existing ships, weapons and equipment. However, it was quickly found that the starcraft they made could not breach high orbit, as doing so would kill the crew instantly, making them planet-bound. So they labored and they tinkered and they changed the machines which could travel the stars, but nothing worked.

Qonn said unto them that he would make them different, change them for the better. So all of those on Old Xiscapia were changed, though here in the Texts it is not specific as to exactly what the transformation was, and with the change we were able to travel the stars. We had not gone far before we were told we had to leave Old Xiscapia, and even the grandchildren of our grandchildren would not live to see it again. Some kitsune live for over three centuries, so this was a long time indeed. With our technology we built vessels to carry all of our people and technology with us, to find a new home.

Just as the ships were setting out, though, a storm of the stars scattered them like leafs on a wind, and they were spread throughout the galaxy. Three thousand years of searching it took to find Xiscapia, the right homeworld Qonn had been guiding them to. No other planet would do, although we have information that points that some kitsune landed on other planets. Some were killed by the natives, some established worldwide and even system-wide Empires, some, we believe, still have decedents living on today. Only a few years ago did we rediscover Old Xiscapia, and it was revealed to us that the storm of the stars was actually a massive invasion fleet coming to destroy Old Xiscapia, and their Warp exit into realspace tossed away the kitsune ships entirely be accident. They were men of Chaos, come to make clothing of our hides. We have found that they landed on Old Xiscapia to search for kitsune to kill, and were in turn killed and destroyed by a number of traps they sprung while they searched." A chuckle.

"We have found still other colonies, the world of Macronia being one, the tomb world of Terracropolis, from which May nghein comes, another. There are no doubt others still left, living and vibrant or dead and gone alike."

Starrider...

"I want to speak with my father as soon as possible. He will want to know how I am being treated."

Captain Retemoto seemed to be about to speak, but the XIA agent jerked his head violently, as if trying to silence him. The Imperial officer glared and the two kitsune retreated to the other end of the room, speaking in low but heated tones, as if in argument. A brief time later they both returned, the Captain seeming to be in a poor temper, and Thompson looked to Chloe. "Of course, Doctor, you will be allowed to contact your father." He smiled, and for the first time there seemed to be some genuine warmth in the expression. "We all know about Kazu's unfortunate...loss. Our sympathies," a pointed look at Retemoto, who nodded sullenly, "are with you."

Army Group North, LZ...

"Over there, sir!" The trooper yelled back, gesturing to where an enlarged hovercraft, modified to act as a mobile command post, sat between two artillery pieces in it's own zone. It was a strange thing, to hear a kitsune speak with an Alversian accent, and a Alversian talk with an Xiscapian lilt. The men of the Five Hundred Eleventh Xiscapian Grand Army Battalion easily stood out among their Ferran and Guard counterparts, towering humans in silver and black battle armor who moved with a deliberate sense of purpose around the beachhead. The sentry called over another soldier and in no time Saan was led past a pair of guards into the hovercraft.

It's the most beautiful battlefield I've ever seen.
Lieutenant Colonel Vin was standing at a tactical monitor inside his Command hovercar, watching a real time display of the fields his troops would soon be crossing. The last time I ordered troops into battle-
No.
One hand rubbed his sallow face and brow. Vin never looked to be in good health, but in the green-blue glow of the computers around him, surrounded by hulking Alversian soldiers, the black-haired, orange-furred kitsune looked positively sickly. For the thousandth time since he had boarded the transport from the Motherland, he wondered why he was here.

During the Korr War, Vin had been a Brigadier himself, commanding a force of Army troops on one of the moons of Jomstar. There had been a skirmish with a Korr patrol that had strayed too far from its fortress, and the result had ended with all the Supremacy soldiers captured, killed or chased away, an excellent start to the campaign. He had been younger then, cocky, full of himself to the point of arrogance, assured of his training, intelligence and the mettle of his men. He felt like he could take on the enemy Division to the West and win easily from his fortified position before sweeping out to crush the survivors in the aftermath of their failed attack and taking the territory for the Kitsune Empire.
He had been wrong.

The Korr had attacked unexpectedly and with an unstoppable ferocity he had never before seen. They hadn't just fought with power, they had fought with skill and finesse, and it wasn't until he saw the gray and red armor of the soldiers that Vin realized he had made a terrible mistake: These were no mere conscripts, these were the ruthless, fanatical Skewered, elite shock troops of the Korr Supremacy. Vin's lines, thinly arranged with the assumption that any enemy force would be seen coming from far off, broke with casualties, and a combination of deadly poison gas, enemy fighter raids and Korr tanks smashing though the walls turned the battle into a rout. Vin's troops, many of them green and untested, fled from the enemy, dropping their weapons and running for their lives or surrendering outright. The final humiliation came when Vin himself was captured by the Korr, the most shameful dishonor that could come to him. He languished in captivity for four months before a counterattack by his superior successor took the prison building where he was being held.

The humiliating defeat and loss of his own stronghold and over fifteen hundred of his troops caused him to be demoted to Lieutenant Colonel and removed from frontline duty. He remembered sitting in a room somewhere in the Motherland, surrounded by empty bottles of drink, a blaster at one hand and a sword at the other, wondering which would be quicker. But he didn't take his own life, he hung on somehow, and while the sneers and disapproval of his comrades gradually faded Vin still carried the failure around with him. He had expected to finish his military career quietly at his post in the Cholk System, guarding the Imperial world there with Sixth Army, to be forgotten by the Kitsune Empire and history in melancholy retirement.
But somebody out there had decided to give him a second chance.

Now he was out here, in the hotspot of the war, leading his own force of five hundred Grunt shock troops, a hundred heavy Support soldiers, a hundred armed medics, a hundred snipers and a hundred battle engineers, plus five Light Assault Mecha, two Heavy Assault Mecha, two Heartbreaker anti-infantry tanks and a squad of SRS troopers. He had been told he would be receiving Alversian and Ferran rebel support, but he had yet to be informed to exactly what these forces consisted of until his surveyors could do an accurate check on the Coalition forces in the area. More than elated, Vin was perplexed: Why now? Did High Command feel that this fight was already won, that even a kitsune such as he couldn't screw it up? Certainly this did not seem a good place to get rid of him.

He turned now as Saan came in, standing from his seat and saluting automatically. The kitsune was already a ledgend, rallying the outnumbered, abaondoned Joint Division in time to break free of a Danaversian trap and rescue the beseiged Colonel Dui and her guard. Against all odds, he had succeeded, he had charisma, charm and the strength of leadership.
He was everything Vin wasn't and wished that he was.
"Lieutentant Colonel," he dropped his salute. "Lieutenant Colonel Vin, sir, commander of the Five Hundred Eleventh Battalion."

Staff Car

Green shrugged. "Such is life." He listened to the Major as he told the news from Pamp. Green smiled slightly.
"I'm glad that we are finally getting somewhere. About time we started to get our shit together and hit the slimy amphibian bastards back."

Church

Marchamp nodded along, still intriuged.
"So...what has happened since then? How much of a role does the Church play in the average Xiscapian's life?"

Army Group South

Setulan did not believe in drop ships per se. Though it did have specialist drop troopers and grav chuters, the heaviest gear was rarely flown down in smaller transports. Instead, the Cobra-Class starships-modified extensively for troop carrying capablities-entered the atmosphere and the troops got off from them.
Such was the case here. Visible across half the hemisphere, nine firey commets plummeted to the surface of the planet as the starships reentered the atmosphere. Within minutes, they were on the ground, an entire wing of Bentnose fighters (acting as gunships) providing security and making sure no unwanted visitors wandered by. Shortly thereafter, the 7th Army was rolling out of the ramps and forming into brigades for the assault on the Danaversian and Ferran lines.
Theater-General Durmel, in plain unadorned combat armor, was standing in his command post poring over charts and holo maps of the countryside, as well as expected enemy positions, when his Alversian counterpart walked in. He nodded at him, calling for him to get out of the rain.
"General. Ready to kick some ass?"

Around him, the three divisions of the 7th Army were forming up in preparation for the coming battle. Huge numbers of armored vehicles and artillery were being ranked as troops filed into their transports for quick deployment to the mountainous redoubt of the amphibians and Ferran conscripts.

Colonel Avro, Commanding Officer of the 56th Heavy Brigade (one of the three combat brigades of the 99th Division) was standing in the pouring rain and looking with frank curiosity at two dozen of the ugliest looking vehicles (http://kofler.dot.at/40k/units/Imperial_Guard_Steel_Legion_Sentinel.gif)*he had ever seen.
Standing on two multi-jointed legs, the vehicles stood roughly four meters tall. Atop the legs sat a squat, odly shaped box for the commander that was covered in heavy armor plates. It had several sets of weapons-each had K2 .50 machinegun strapped underneath a Banshee gatling on each side, as well as two rocket launchers-one on each upper corner-for taking on hard points.
"These are recon vehicles, you say?" The question was directed to the commander of the company of vehicles, a young, eager looking Captain named Medro.
"Yes sir! Though we can also use them in an assault capacity. We figure these will be greatly beneficial in the mountains, where it is harder for tanks to roll into safely. We're faster than infantrymen and almost as agile." Avro continued his inspection of the strange bipedal walker. With a start, he realized what was missing.
"There are no viewports for the crew."
"Correct, sir. The crew member is directly linked to the walker via nueral plug, and sees what the sensors see. It greatly enhances all senses, sir. It's like having a radar in your mind."

Staff Car

Green shrugged. "Such is life." He listened to the Major as he told the news from Pamp. Green smiled slightly.
"I'm glad that we are finally getting somewhere. About time we started to get our shit together and hit the slimy amphibian bastards back."

Church

Marchamp nodded along, still intriuged.
"So...what has happened since then? How much of a role does the Church play in the average Xiscapian's life?"

Army Group South

Setulan did not believe in drop ships per se. Though it did have specialist drop troopers and grav chuters, the heaviest gear was rarely flown down in smaller transports. Instead, the Cobra-Class starships-modified extensively for troop carrying capablities-entered the atmosphere and the troops got off from them.
Such was the case here. Visible across half the hemisphere, nine firey commets plummeted to the surface of the planet as the starships reentered the atmosphere. Within minutes, they were on the ground, an entire wing of Bentnose fighters (acting as gunships) providing security and making sure no unwanted visitors wandered by. Shortly thereafter, the 7th Army was rolling out of the ramps and forming into brigades for the assault on the Danaversian and Ferran lines.
Theater-General Durmel, in plain unadorned combat armor, was standing in his command post poring over charts and holo maps of the countryside, as well as expected enemy positions, when his Alversian counterpart walked in. He nodded at him, calling for him to get out of the rain.
"General. Ready to kick some ass?"

Around him, the three divisions of the 7th Army were forming up in preparation for the coming battle. Huge numbers of armored vehicles and artillery were being ranked as troops filed into their transports for quick deployment to the mountainous redoubt of the amphibians and Ferran conscripts.

Colonel Avro, Commanding Officer of the 56th Heavy Brigade (one of the three combat brigades of the 99th Division) was standing in the pouring rain and looking with frank curiosity at two dozen of the ugliest looking vehicles (http://kofler.dot.at/40k/units/Imperial_Guard_Steel_Legion_Sentinel.gif)*he had ever seen.
Standing on two multi-jointed legs, the vehicles stood roughly four meters tall. Atop the legs sat a squat, odly shaped box for the commander that was covered in heavy armor plates. It had several sets of weapons-each had K2 .50 machinegun strapped underneath a Banshee gatling on each side, as well as two rocket launchers-one on each upper corner-for taking on hard points.
"These are recon vehicles, you say?" The question was directed to the commander of the company of vehicles, a young, eager looking Captain named Medro.
"Yes sir! Though we can also use them in an assault capacity. We figure these will be greatly beneficial in the mountains, where it is harder for tanks to roll into safely. We're faster than infantrymen and almost as agile." Avro continued his inspection of the strange bipedal walker. With a start, he realized what was missing.
"There are no viewports for the crew."
"Correct, sir. The crew member is directly linked to the walker via nueral plug, and sees what the sensors see. It greatly enhances all senses, sir. It's like having a radar in your brain."
Avro continued to walk around, completing his circuit. Rain ran off the tall bipeds as he stood observing.
"How many of these ugly fuckers are there?"
"One company-that's twenty four, sir-of these per brigade, with more in reserve in case they prove useful." The Colonel made up his mind.
"You've got your chance, Captain. Don't fuck up, or I'll personally kill you...if the Dans don't get you first."

ooc*-Only a rough aproximation of what the Combat Walker 1 (CW1) looks like, but it's the best I could do.

Starrider

Emma nodded curtly to both the Agent and the Captain, vulpine eyes lingering on the later for a little while longer than on the XIA Agent. She frowned internally, 'what was his problem? I only want to speak to my father.' She had heard the argument beyond the room, heard the unmistakeable tones of two people in quiet debate. She could guess that the Agent was in approval of her decision and the Captain was opposed to it. He obviously did not understand the strain this was placing on her elderly father and she needed to see how he was as soon as possible. What was the harm in doing that?

The Kitsune bowed her head slightly in thanks, more respectful than her previous effort, simply because she was getting used to the idea of being kidnapped,
"I have no more questions." She said.

Army Group North, LZ

Saan returned the salute of the Lieutenant Colonel in front of him, taking in the appearance of the Kitsune who was to be his fellow Advisor to the Theatre General once he arrived. Saan had heard of Lieutenant Colonel Vin, as had all Officers in the 153rd Infantry Regiment, of which the 610th Battalion was a part of. Vin's command had been held up as an example of how not to lead a campaign, how training, experience and troop quality could all be undone by simple arrogance and overconfidence. None of the Officers had ever met him personally, and none of them had really wanted to. He was a Legend in the XGA, but for all the wrong reasons.

Then again, who was Saan to judge? He had gained his promotions in virtually the same way that Vin had lost his. It had been five years ago, during the 610th's deployment to Macronia, a planet under siege from countless Bandits and the warring city states that inhabited it's harsh desert landscape. Saan had been a mere Lietuenant at the time, young, inexperienced, content to pass up the ladder of command through seniority alone, that was how most peacetime promotions were gained. It may have been a slow system, but it was a system with which Saan had had no problems. Then the orders to deploy came through. Saan remembered standing in front of his Platoon, listening to the Lieutenant Colonel reading out the Orders. In the two days between then and departing the planet, he had spent with his girlfriend, Cassie, a Kitsune he loved dearly and desperately wanted to marry, but could never find the words to express his love and devotion to her. He lay awake for hours, dreaming of how he would ask her and, perhaps more urgently, how he would react in his first deployment away from his new home. The 609th had been deployed there beforehand and it's veterans spoke of a pretty rough time. He was nervous to the point of quesyness. Not only was he to be placed in the fighting for the first time, but he would also be second in command to fifty men, all of whom would be looking to him for leadership. Saan had never tossed and turned so much in his life before or since.

To days later, at the dock, Saan stood with the rest of the Battalion, carrying his supplies onto the transport that would take him to the troop carrier floating in orbit above Illesia. He turned to his tearful Love one more time and kissed her passionately on the lips. The act, which would normally have brought catcalls and wolfwhistles from his men, went unnoticed amongst the thousands of familiar goodbyes, as Wives kissed husbands, children hugged fathers and friends let each other know that they would see each other again. Immediately to Saan's right had been a Major holding his Wife close, assuring her that he would return, while to his left had been a Light Company Sniper, holding her children tight to her chest, trying to keep the tears back as she told them that 'Mummy was going away for a while'.

Saan had no eyes for that though, he was only focused on his Love, the Kitsune who, just hours ago, had agreed to marry him as he finally bumbled it from his mouth. Now his joy was mixed with sorrow, as he thought of the letter that she would recieve if he could not return. The small padd that all Loved one's dreaded. Saan had known many houses where the Wives or husbands had woken up to find an Army Courier standing on their front step, many falling to the ground in hysterics. Even the Courier himself had earned the title, 'Death Bringer'.

Saan finally managed to push those from his mind as he gently brushed aside a small strand of hair from his Fiance's face and hugged her again. His Platoon was finally shuffling onto the transport, men reluctantly letting go of their Loved ones, them in return trying to hold on for as long as possible. Saan stepped into the transport with his men and, as it lifted into the air, turned to try and find his Lover's face, but there were too many thousands for him to check before his vessel had lifted into the clear, blue sky above Illesia and towards orbit.

Macronia had been as hot and as hellish as the Veterans had warned. No transports, so marching by foot was the only way to go. No tanks or fighters, so the troops had to rely on themselves and their comrades to get out of the neverending desert that Macronia seemed to be. Saan had called on every ounce of his training to get him and his men through the struggle, already promoted to Captain thanks to a Sniper on the Platoon's first combat assignment. His real promotion had come seven weeks into his ten week assignment. The Battalion had been dispatched, along with two others, to relieve a Unit of the 222nd Battalion that had dug into an old, hilltop fortress and was now besieged by Bandit troops. Under constant attack, running out of food and with no air evacuation possible, a ground assualt was the only way through. However, while an Army of 15,000 sounded impressive on paper, Saan knew the Army would be well under-strength. Even in his Platoon of supposedly 50 men, there were only 31 fit for duty, thanks to constant battle and the intense heat. The Army would have it's work cut out.

Nonetheless, the battle into the mountainous ravanes and outcrops went ahead, 11,000 men launched themselves at the small mountain to rescue their comrades under siege. The Alversian troops had struggled between the impossible terrain, under fire all the time from the artillery. The attack was faltering until Saan spotted an opening, a blindspot directly under the main Bandit defensive line that could offer protection and time to gather for an attack. So, with his katana in one hand, rifle in the other, Saan had screamed up the mountain, running and slipping like his life depended on it. He was being followed by several dozen troops, some weren't of his Platoon, some weren't even of his Battalion, but he had made it to the lip, stabbing and hacking at the small Bandit garrison planted to prevent such an attack. From there, the battle had been a formality, the guns were knocked out and the fortress relieved. Saan had been covered in medals, his unit had been commended. The Battalion had been given the Guards prefix and Saan had been made a Colonel.

Looking back, he realised what a stupidly dangerous move it could have been, killing all in the charge along with him, but fortune had been on his side that day, just as it had deserted Vin during his own engagement.

Saan turned and looked out over the battlefield, taking in it's beauty while the battalions formed up,
"Saan," he introduced himself, "CO of the Guards 610th." Another pause, "Have you meet our General ye..."

Even as he said it, the man in question lumbered into view, a portly man, he was short with graying hair and a kind, though rather dull face. He saluted to both Vin and Saan before introducing himself,
"Greetings Lads!" He said in barely concealed joy, "I am Field Marshall Jan-Con of the 9th Fusiliers, Lord of Montoy, Earl of Banna, Duke of Ger and Nane, Commanding Officer of the Ferran Outcast Liberation Army and leader for this section of the Campaign," He laughed, "And who might you two be?"

Army Group South, LZ

"Not how I would have put it," Anderson stated, amused, "But a correction assumption, my troops are ready to begin the advance as soon as your Army is." He reported in a military manner. He was curious as to how this would go. The last time the Setulans had fought with the Alversian Army, it had ended up with an Alversian Lieutenant Colonel leading the Setulans to safety. All of the Alversian Army knew of the cock up and now they were looking to this campaign for the Setulan Army to prove itself.

Staff Car...

Grimske blinked. "Yes sir," he nodded, "the tide may be beginning to shift in our favor, but we have a long way to go even if it is."

They came to a stop outside of the dockyards complex, the fact that it was a military installation betrayed by the electrified vibrowire fences set around the perimeter, turret towers at the edges, choke points guarded by bunkers and numerous warnings in Galactic Common and Xiscapian informing trespassers that unauthorized persons would be stunned on sight and stood the possibility of being killed (which, as finer print proclaimed, the Xiscapian Department of Armed Services and the Xiscapian Imperial Navy took no liability for) if they resisted. Armed Marines were patrolling inside and gazed out from machine gun nests and rooftops, the soldiers of the XIN ever watchful. The driver of the hovercraft had to move the vehicle though three checkpoints, showing the I.D. of all three occupants each time, before they finally entered the shadow of a massive hanger building, obviously meant to hold the larger starships which could still move though planetary atmosphere without, say, setting it on fire or crushing everything beneath them. The car was dwarfed by the two hanger doors that were obviously meant for service vehicles and supply trucks to enter though: The roof showed it could be opened so the craft could enter straight down from the sky or directly up from inside the building. The sense of open space was a little jarring, especially when one first saw the flat, empty interior which seemed to extend for miles, lined with cranes, docks and support vehicles.

A Marchamp class frigate (http://the-least.deviantart.com/art/Frigate-33361730) sat in the middle of the bay, surrounded by hundreds of crew members, service technicians and engineers, troops and officers, all busy about their own duties and goals around the ship like insects around a great, metallic nest. The XGA driver hummed to a stop by the bow of the great ship, getting out and opening the doors so the Major, Lieutenant Colonel and Brigadier could get out. "After the battle, the XGA determined that you need additional support," Grimske said, gesturing up at the warship. "The Imperial Navy was only too glad to help."

They boarded the starship via an access ramp guarded by two Marines. Inside the ship was filled with every class, kind and rank of kitsune imaginable plus their droid companions, apparently, from what they were doing and the conversations they could hear, preparing to load and prep the frigate for operational duties. Parts were being checked, furnishings put into place, systems tested and experts consulted, resulting in a hubbub of faces and bodies that filled the halls of the ship far more than the crew of only two hundred would when the vessel was put into space. Green, being larger and taller than anyone else and higher ranking, naturally got more space, so they made good time to their destination: The hanger of the Marchamp class. There things were quieter, but after the chaos of the halls it seemed like dead silence, and very empty of people as well, a delegation waiting for them near the door field. The hanger was typically Xiscapian: Gray bulkheads and a high ceiling with a slick, black tile deck, well-lit and cavernous.

There was four people waiting to receive them: A Vulpes Vulpes of the purest white fur and deep orange eyes wearing the Captain's uniform of the XIN, a Homo Vulpes with a nasty scar down one side of his bronzed face with tawny fur clothed with a gray Mechanized Division Lieutenant uniform, and two helmeted Marine soldiers. The white one bowed first, shortly followed by the other, after which Grimske, Green and Dui all bowed back. "I am Captain Edo," the Naval officer's voice seemed inexplicably melancholy, "Master and Commander of this vessel, the Xiscapian Imperial Warship Hand of Judgement. The function of this ship is to transport the officers of the Hand of Judgement division to the battlefield and provide support for the Joint Division and any other Coalition forces in the area where it is able."

The mecha officer nodded. "I'm Lieutenant Tanj, you might better know me as Blue Three." He grinned. "It's an honor, Colonel's, it really is, to meet you in the flesh. I'll be commanding your Mechanize attachment." He cast around at the hanger bay, pointing to the ranks of ten LAM and five HAM on either side of the room. "Anti-infantry, anti-tank, counter battery...hell, we're just anti-everything!" He looked around. "And...damn, where'd she go?"

One of the Marines leaned over and whispered something into the Lieutenant's ear. "Ah..." He looked embarrassed. "Squadron Commander Misha will be here in a moment."

At that moment the door they had come though hissed open behind them and a kitsune with ebony fur in a black tunic uniform strode though, flanked by two others in battle armor (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/File:StormCommandos.JPG). Green would feel, rather than see, the two Marines tense, and Tanj, Dui and Grimske all flinched; only Edo seemed unaffected. The leader seemed to radiate confidence and power, obviously he had charisma, and when he looked at you it was like being suckerpunched, an intensity drilling into you as though he was probing for weaknesses. Green heard Grimske mutter something beside him that he could not discern: The Setulanite wasn't even sure the Major had spoken in Common.

"Ah, we have guests," the black one smiled without warmth, looking at Grimske, Dui and Green in turn, his gaze stalling on Green for perhaps a few moments longer before he addressed them. "Brigadier, Major, Lieutenant Colonel." Was it just his imagination, or had he put empathise on the Lieutenant part of Green's title? "Warrant Officer Sawl of the Third SRS Regiment," he introduced himself, "here to assist the Joint Division," a pink tongue licked chops, "against the Danaversian and Boolean menace."
Grimske glanced at Green, then stepped over to Tanj, murmuring something. Tanj muttered back and Grimske nodded, looking again to Green. "I'm going to retrieve Squadron Commander Misha," he bowed, then bowed again the Sawl, and hurried out. Dui just stared at the SRS commander.
Whoever this guy was, he was putting off seriously bad vibes.

Church...

"Không phải là lớn như chúng tôi muốn." said May nghein. Miyagi nodded in agreement. "Not as much as we'd like. We are, first and foremost, teachers, Prime Minister: People come to us as they will. For assistance, for training, for knowledge, for comfort, and this is well, but not as good as it could be. We are...the authority on religious, spiritual, and supernatural matters, and there is always demand for our talents, but the average Xiscapian simply is not as in touch with his or her powers as they could be." A smile. "Naturally, we seek to remedy that. Xiscapians in general believe and pray to Qonn, and we encourage this, so they may find guidance and inner peace."

Starrider...

Retemoto met Emma's eyes with a cool glitter in his own before bowing along with Thompson. "I will leave you in the capable hands of Captain Retemoto," the agent inclined his head, "we will be making planetfall in about four hours. Good luck, Doctor Ginta, Doctor Emma." The Xiscapian in the black suit turned and walked out of the room as Ginta murmured his thanks, hardly daring to breath least he upset Emma's balance. The Imperial Captain looked down his nose at the two scientists. "Let the guards know if you need anything," he said crisply, though with an undertone of agitation, "you'll be called when we reach Old Xiscapia."
He too left, presumably off to preform his own duties.

Ginta let out a sigh he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Scary," he muttered.

Army Group North, LZ...

Vin stared. He'd never seen anyone who looked less like a Field Marshall, and the long title went in though one fox ear and out the other. He glanced at Saan, then looked back to Jan-Con and saluted. "I am Lieutenant Colonel Vin of the Five Hundred Eleventh Xiscapian Grand Army Battalion, Lãnh đạo Field Marshall." He said respectfully.

Marchamp-Class ship

Green maintained a completely neutral expression towards the SRS soldier. He searched ihs memory, trying to remember what SRS actually was, when he finally put his finger on it-the soldier in front of him with the bad attitude was a recce fairy.
Green almost-almost!-responded to the SRS mans attitude with a series of words that were pithy and anatomically improbable, but he bit his tongue-he was in enough trouble as is. Instead, he smiled blandly at the Warrant Officer and sent him a very clear look.
I know who you are, I'll find out where you live, and if you fuck with me, I will end you.

Church

Marchamp reclined, making himself comfortable.
"You mentioned powers before. What are they? What limits do they have? How much can they effect the universe as we know it?"

Durmel's HQ

"Excellent, excellent. Come with me over here, General, and let's go over some plans. I'm counting on you-you know more about the Dans then anybody in my command." He led the Alversian General over to a holomap and started to move it around to illustrate his points.
"Now, unfortunately for all of us, your compatriots took the easy job in the central theater, which is full of nice, open land. We would have steamrolled anything in our way over there-this formation has more tanks than you can shake a stick at. Can't fight the kind of fight I really wanted to in this particular area, but what the hell. Winning a war is about screwing up second to last, eh?" He highlighted some areas.
"Alright, here is the rundown. Intel says that the Ferran 16th Army, as well as the Danaversian 3rd Corps, are dug into the passes and caves of these mountains. Now, I always take my intel with a grain of salt, but reports say that the 16th Army are a bunch of rag-tag conscripts-punks with machineguns, really-who are not such a hot group of troops. I'm sure you've read the intel reports as well as I have, but keep that in mind.
"It will take us an estimated two days of movement to reach the enemy. During these two days, I am going to use the vast majority of the air power available to me on the Ferran troops. General, it is my intention to hammer them so hard, they shit themselves and run when they hear the engines of a Bentnose, much less when the gunships start their attack runs. I am going to break their fragile minds like a bunch of dry fucking sticks, burn them out of their fortifications, and then I'm really going to hurt them.
"From what I have learned of the Danaversians-and I've heard alot-air strikes of this nature will not accomplish all that much. Don't misunderstand me, I plan to hit them, but psychologically, it will probably just piss them off. That being said, I am requesting that the Navy Atmospheric elements hit them as much as humanly possible.
"Regarding the ground conflict. All six brigades of the 99th Heavy Division the 111th Heavy Division will launch their assault on the Ferrans, who, as I said, are going to be greatly demoralized by the continuous assault. Frankly, General, even if they were at full fighting strength, the 99th and 111th would still wipe the walls with them, but I'm hoping for a quick, relatively painless fight; ideally, the reserve brigades won't even be called into the passes. More on that later.
"Your men, General, are going to spearhead the assault on the Dan 3rd Corps. I'm proud of my men, Anderson-do you mind if I call you Anderson?-, and confident of their abilities, but I am not stupid, and I won't have my men killed by my overconfidence. Alversia has the experience with Danaversians. Your men have mission-specific training fighting the Danaversians." Durmel gave Anderson a hard, passionate look. "I'll need your men to ram a spear up the Dans asses, General. I know your formations don't have the moxy to take on an entire Dan corps by itself, but you need to convince the slimy bastards that you are the main attack so they orient themselves to face your assault. That way, when phase three of the assault plan begins, we will be ready.
"Phase three is the final stage of this battle. The 111th and 99th, which will have routed the Ferrans, reorient themselves to face the south and then they proceed to drive down, pushing the Dans towards the lake. The 368th Mechanized will reinforce your men with two brigades, and the combined Setulan-Alversian force will drive the Danaversians to the river. We will create a pocket and tighten it until the Dans are completely crushed between our two forces.
"In the meantime, any reserve brigades we have-probably one from the 368th and maybe from the 111th-will not drive against the Dan 3rd Corps, but will go north, to hit the Ferran 12th Army in the flank. The Ferran 12th is going to have its hands full with the Alversian attack already underway, and hopefully we can help roll them up more quickly then otherwise.
"Unfortunately...and I want to skin the asshole of a supreme leader who made the decision...we are not permited to use gas warfare against the enemy. This is doubly unfortunate, as the Ferran troops are probably not well equipped to deal with that kind of threat...but as I said earlier, no use crying over what we can't fix.
"Any questions, General?"

Starrider

Emma nodded by ways of farewell as both the Internal Affairs Agent and the Naval Captain moved from the room, leaving Ginta and herself alone in the conference room. Well...apart from the Marines who seemed placed to stop either Scientist from interfering too much with the smooth running of the Imperial Xiscapian Naval Ship. Either that or trying to stop someone from interfering with them. Emma disliked it intensely, hating having someone here with her in this personal situation. Qonn, sometimes she hated her own Empire...imagine kidnapping it's own citizens!

It was only now, once her discussion with the Officials was complete, that the Kitsune Scientist fully appreciated her position within the room, perched on the lap of a Kitsune she was deeply attracted to. She shifted uncomfortably, a little blush creeping into her cheeks before wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hugging closer to him, her head on his chest, tail wrapping around his legs,

"Scary."

"I know," Emma closed her eyes and let out a ragged breath. She was, in truth, scared of the situation. She was afraid of meeting new collegues on Old Xiscapia, she was afraid of trying to reason to her father and justify her state-sponsored abduction, she was scared of making a new life for herself in an Alien world, trying to focus on her work.

She said nothing, only hugging him close, taking comfort from his presence and warmth, she looked back up and gave a small smile, wide, vulpine eyes still wide and bright,
"I guess we're gonna have to cancel our date." She said cheekily.

Army Group North, LZ

Saan exchanged a glance with his opposite number from the Xiscapian Army, he too, wondering how this man had ever become a Field Marshall as well as how he had gained so many titles,
"Lieutenant Colonel Saan, Alversian Guards 610th Battalion." he introduced himself as another Ferran entered the Command Post, a much leaner, harder and narrow eyed Ferran who looked at both Kitsune with an air of complete disregard,
"My Lieutenant," Jan-Con raised a slightly flabby hand, "General Supreme Fan-ta." The Ferran neither bowed nor saluted in return to the other Officers, who followed military ettiquette and saluted upon the introduction. Saan scowled, such a move was nothing less than rude.

"So," The Ferran Marshall seemed completely oblivious to his General Supreme's lack of manners, "How are Intelligence reports portraying our enemy?" He demanded, not looking at anyone, waiting for an answer.

Another exchange of glances,
"Well...Sir," Saan used the title reluctantly, as if he was unsure that it was a genuine honorific, "Alversian Intelligence would suggest that we are facing the 3rd and 6th Armies, each consisting of around 40,000 men, including 20,000 Regular Troops, the 3rd Army is led by General Terra-Con, who has been marked as a potential problem..."

"...nonsense!" Jan-Con barked, cutting right across the Kitsune as he spoke, who fell reluctantly silent, a scowl crossing his face again, "The Ferran Army is a joke, Man-Sa is a joke, none of the Ferran generals can match my military experience and tactical flair! I will hear nothing more of this Terra-Con, he will easily fold to my advance." The Ferran Marshall spoke feverently.

"Your Lordship will advanced over mountains of the enemy dead," Fan-Ta affirmed dully.

"So...what do you recommend for the advance?" He asked both Lieutenant-Colonels.

Saan exchanged another glance before speaking,
"I recommend we advanced cautiously Sir, pick up local guides to help us around the terrain and to tell of any ambushes the Ferrans may have laid out. I would also suggest that Lieutenant-Colonel Vin's Battalion spearpoint the advance, he has much more general purpose units and is flexible enough to cope with any challenges. My own Battalion could take up a position in the rear until we can recover from our previous assignment."

"I see," Jan-Con was frowning, like a genius being presented with a terrible problem, "I think one of my own Legions can take the point in the advance," He said a loud, confident tone, "my troops can deal with anything that is presented before them. I also do not agree with trying to recruit these Local peasants for any worthwhile task. They are suitable for farming food and dodging taxes, but I do not trust them for any other intelligent work. Your Battalion shall be on the left flank, Saan, it will be effective there."

"Sir," Saan was already bristling at how the Field Marshall had not referring to him by rank and instead like an old friend, "I must insist, my men are exhausted, they cannot..."

"...and you, Vin," Jan-Con again cut across him, "Your Battalion is the smallest here. Your Unit shall be placed in the rear of the advance. I do not want any of your men near the frontlines until I order them to be there. Is that understood?"

Saan was silent, not trusting himself to speak, dare he unleash the fury he was keeping bottled up.

"Yes...Sir."

Field HQ, Ferran 3rd Army

Terra-Con streched out with a sigh, the breath escaping from his lungs as the human looked out over the long, grassy plain with its waving fields of crops divided as uniformly as a Legion on parade, the tall trees standing tall and proud, witnesses to times long since past and looking forward to events in the distant and unseen future. The sky was such a deep colour of blue, no clouds daring to show their white blemishes upon its pristine surface.
'If it were another time, I may have enjoyed this scene', the Ferran thought sadly as he turned back to look at his HQ staff bustling about, sorting the matters of an Army at war.

Terra-Con had not had an easy time advacing to his position, General of the Ferran 3rd Army. The Ferran Military was as corrupt as it was ineffecient and most promotions were not decided by how good they were at combat, but how deep their pockets were. Purchasing a Commission was not easy, a Generalship costing several hundred thousand credits alone. He had been lucky that his public profile was so, that not even the government dared demote him, paying his fees itself, putting it up as a loan that Terra-Con would be years in paying back from his meagre peasant wages.

It was a lonely place at the top, he was the only 'Peasant-General' and so he often found himself on his own at Parties were Hosts were forced to invite him and spent little to no time talking him. Okay, they were polite enough to his face, but he knew behind his back, they were scornful. They despised his command and they despised him dirtying the Army with his filthy, common hands. As a result, Terra-Con often resorted to the lower ranks for companionship and focusing himself on the business of fighting his Country's enemies as oppossed to attending drinks parties and trying to get elected into the equally corrupt Senate.

Sometimes, Terra-Con felt he was facing the wrong way with his shields. He had heard of the Xiscapians and the Alversians and he knew how much fairer their systems were, how formidable their Armies were in compared to his own cash-starved force. His 35,000 men were armed with a variety of weapons and armour, while most had only a basic grasp of military tactics, but they were enthusiastic and commited and he knew they would give their lives in defence of their homeland, something that made him choke up when he thought that the state would not even honour their sacrifices. The Families of the dead would struggle on their own, laiden with the 'casualty tax' while the Wounded would be left untreated and uncared for, left to die on the streets when their money was also taken to fatten the already fattened Senate.

It made his blood boil that all these commen men and women, most without two pennies to rub togather, gave their all in the defence of a corrupt and broken system. Of course, the ranks of the Army had swollen anyway, thanks to people desperate for food, money and security. Despite this and despite the Criminals that filled the ranks as well, Terra-Con felt a warm affection for his men and, if he could, he would not risk any of them. However, he was a General, he had taken an oath to defend Ferra. While he did not agree with the system, he would defend the people who lived under it's oppressive grasp.

He looked up in time to see two Alversian fighters streaking overhead, heading for some target deeper behind the lines, affectively devoid of targets at the frontlines of the 3rd Army. Terra-Con was no fool and, while his Air Companies had been devastated by the airstrikes, the dirty smoke raising lazily iunto the sky, his Infantry formations had been spread out enough to escape the pounding, unlike the 6th Army to his south, which had been gutted by the constant attacks as it tried to keep it's shape. Terra-Con would not gather his forces until the enemy advance, then he would have to find some way to stop their ruthless advance for at least for a moment.

Terra-Con was not a happy man.

Army Group South, LZ

Anderson frowned,
"Sir, with all due respect, I have just recieved the latest tactical updates from the Intelligence Forces. I have only 17,000 men but the Danaversians are meant to have anything from 50-60,000 troops in entrenched positions. I know we have tactical superiority and air supremacy but such numbers are still as such that I cannot garuntee that your orders can be carried out to their full potential." He felt bad for having to say this, but his priority was for his own men, he would not risk them in something as menial as a decoy attack.

XIW Hand of Judgement...

Sawl met Green's smile directly with an expression that, if looks were physical forces, would have pinned the Setulanite to the bulkhead. Clearly the soldier held the officer in contempt, and despite the Lieutenant Colonel's size he didn't appear at all afraid of him; probably the kitsune thought the man a coward. Green would become aware of a slight touch on his left leg, the tip of Dui's tail attracting his attention, and she hissed at him, barely audible.

"Bow!"

Tanj was waiting patiently for Green: As per the code of conduct, Dui, the highest-ranking officer present, bowed first, then Edo had followed suit. Now it was Green's turn to make the traditional display of politeness, or risk seriously offending Sawl, who had already made the gesture and was awaiting one in return.

It took Grimske several minutes to even find out where the Imperial Squadron Commander was, although he couldn't quite say he was shocked by the answer. He had known Misha before the war, not well but they were aquentances, so he'd been surprised and even a little nervous to hear they would be working under the same command. The communal showers were located on the port side of the frigate, aft of the hanger, a large room set inside a series of passages and preparatory areas where perhaps a quarter of the crew would wash and take care of hygiene at once during designated shipboard times. Inside the high room with gray walls and a shining tiled floor drains gurgled and steam made the atmosphere suitably sauna-like. The intent was to conjure up the same mood one would get when entering one of the Kitsune Empire's many bathhouses to encourage a sense of familiarity towards it, as an actual bathing area with a still body of water would be impractical and difficult to effectively maintain aboard a warship.

The whole room should have dark and deserted: Everyone was attending to pre-deployment checks, diagnostics and preparations or awaiting boarding. However, Grimske could just barely make out two figures near the back of the room, obscured by steam. Water droplets coated his boots and his uniform hung off his figure as his fur became wet and less bushy, footsteps echoing in the confined space. There was a soft yelp and one of the forms detached from the other; the Major caught the briefest glimpse of a long tawny snout, pink hair and a waving tail before the person pushed past him and was gone. He didn't watch her go, instead focusing his attention on the other who emerged from the fog.

Squadron Commander Misha was a unusually tall Vulpes Vulpes with steel blue fur, a grin that seemed permanently affixed to her muzzle and laughing yellow eyes, along with a swagger that almost all XIN pilots shared. She saw Grimske and her smile widened, shaking the water from her fur as one arm slide over her chest. "Enjoying the show, Major?"

"The Imperial military has rules which prohibit fraternizing with your colleagues, Commander," Grimske answered stiffly, handing the flyer a towel as they walked to the locker area.

"Ohh, because Colonels Dui and Green been such shining examples of such conduct?" Misha asked sarcastically, rubbing herself with the cloth before wrapping it around herself.

"Lieutenant Colonel Green and Brigadier Dui, now," Grimske corrected her.

"And what about you?" Misha's tail flicked in a way that Grimske didn't like. "What about that clerk you've been fooling-"

"Misha." Grimske shook his head empathetically. "I have my position to think about. That," he nodded back to the showers, "is almost expected of you pilots, and the higher-ranking officers can get away with much, as you know. But if word ever got out to him about my...relationship, my career would be ruined." He looked at her. "You mustn't mention such things when the walls have ears."

"Okay," Misha shrugged off the towel and began to pull on her flight uniform, not, Grimske noted, her dress uniform, as would have been appropriate for the meeting. "But you're going to have to come out sometime."

Grimske rolled his eyes. "Who knows and when is my decision."

Misha pulled her flight jacket over her head, looking down at it wistfully. "I remember when you actually needed this," she touched the leather, "when pilots actually flew their ships. The new system's okay," she sighed, "but sometimes I just wanna get out and shoot down a few Congers in person, y'know?"

"You'll have plenty of hands-on flying when you're transporting the officers to the surface under heavy enemy AA," Grimske noted. While Procul was good for interceptor piloting and even bombers, which could be mass produced in a matter of days, transports and drop ships could not be pumped out of a factory with the necessary new components required in so little time. As a result, the switch to Procul for the pilots of non-combat ships was slower in coming than for fighters, though many of the crews were well trained in flying multiple classes of small craft.

"I hope they don't get flight sick," Misha strapped on a boot. "That's all I would need, cleaning some armchair officer's puke off the inside of my cabin."

"I doubt that will happen," the Major assured her, thinking of the tough commanding officers of the Hand of Judgement Division.

"So it's them, old Edo, that mecha bastard, what's his face-"

"Tanj."

"Yeah, him, and you?"

"We have a new arrival," Grimske grimaced. "Warrant Officer Sawl, an SRS guy."

Misha let out a low whistle as she stood, fully dressed. "Nguyền rủa, what the hell are they doing here?"

Grimske shook his head. "I don't know, but I don't like it. Come, they're waiting for you in the hanger bay. We'd better hurry," he recalled the look Sawl have given Green, "before they come to blows."

"Yeah, wouldn't wanna have a brawl without me!" Misha grinned and followed her shorter comrade up to the next deck.

Church...

"You mentioned powers before. What are they?"

Miyagi looked down into his empty cup, then over to Marchamp. "There are the four basic gifts: Telekinesis, telepathy, second sight, and premonition. Telekinesis, the ability to move objects simply by exerting the power of the mind over them, is by far the most common, many kitsune have at least a limited grasp of it, and all priests do. Telepathy, being able to communicate directly into another being's conscious or even unconsciousness, is rarer but when cultivated can be a very powerful-"

"Và rất nguy hiểm." May nghein interjected.

"And very dangerous," Miyagi nodded, "talent. I believe Empress Jade has spoken to you in this manner several times since you entered this Church."

Jade smiled and nodded. "I confess to having used my talent to share a little information with the Ambassador."

"The third skill, second sight, is the ability to see things before they happen, a glimpse of the future. Sometimes it is only a second ahead, in other cases it could be thousands of years. Possessing second sight allows the illusion that one with the gift has exceptionally fast reflexes, as they can react to what is going to happen just before it does so, but unlike telepathy and telekinesis it cannot be controlled by the user. The fourth of the basic gifts is that of premonition, which is the same as second sight but for the fact that a premonition may come in a way other than sight, and is usually an omen of disaster or tragedy to come."

"Đây không phải là chỉ có quà tặng," May nghein spoke up, Miyagi translating again. "chẳng hạn như pyrokinesis, hoặc khả năng để van xin và kiểm soát cháy, chữa bệnh quyền hạn mà có thể mang theo lấy một người tử vong trên của cửa trở lại cuộc sống, sức mạnh của ninko, mà gây ra người sử dụng vô hình, và Tôi Kitsunetsuki, War quyền có khác đang được với một tinh thần của người.

"These are not the only gifts; many others exist, such as pyrokinesis, or the ability to conjure and control fire, healing powers which can bring a retrieve a person on Death's door back to life, the power of ninko, which renders the user invisible, and Kitsunetsuki, literally the power to possess another being with one's spirit.

"Most do not even possess the potential to have these powers," Miyagi told him, "and even then it takes years, even decades of learning and training to master them."

"What limits do they have?"

Miyagi extended a hand, lifting the kettle and tipping it to pour piping tea into his empty saucer. "One who is gifted is limited by their own force of will and the extent of powers available to them: One may become an amazing telepath, able to craft dreams in the minds of others as art and use illusions to delight and confuse, but be unable to so much as flip a switch using their mind. If an individual is untrained, they can usually not exert a power for more than a few seconds in any case, and even priests such as myself and May nghein have our own constraints; after we reach our own breaking points, to continue to attempt to use our power would destroy us."

"Một trong những Cult of Bodom của sợ hãi lớn nhất là chết-chu kỳ," May nghein spoke seriously, "nơi mà một cá nhân sử dụng quyền lực của mình fueled của cảm xúc riêng của mình, trong đó tăng cường sức mạnh của mình mà gây ra cảm xúc của mình vào một Frenzy. Một người như vậy sẽ được Unstoppable, làm như ông hài lòng riêng của mình cho đến khi quyền lực cuối cùng là giết người."

"One of the Cult of Bodom's greatest fears is the deadly-cycle, where an individual uses his power fueled by his own emotions, which strengthens his power which raises his emotions to a frenzy. Such a person would be unstoppable, doing as he pleased until his own power finally killed him."

"How much can they effect the universe as we know it?"

May nghein looked at Miyagi questioningly as the old master took a drink of his tea. The old one stared back at him, then looked to Marchamp, all humor gone.

"As far as we know, there are no limitations. There are stories of powerful adapts razing cities, bringing planets low and even swallowing entire star systems." There was an air of subtle tension; evidently Marchamp had somehow hit upon a sensitive topic.

"Such tales may be exaggerated, of course," Miyagi said carefully. "If such beings existed, they would no doubt have shown themselves or been discovered by now."

Jade shifted in her seat, setting her cup down, eyes downcast. May nghein too seemed to be avoiding looking at any of the others, intently studying the sides of the kettle.


XIW Starrider...

Ginta seemed at least as uncomfortable as Emma, but he was careful not to dislodge her from her position, putting his arms around her waist. She was so close, the only one who had ever been closer-

Don't think about that now, you fool!

"I guess we're gonna have to cancel our date."

The scientist smiled back, unsure of what he found so incredibly funny about that statement. The situation seemed so surreal, but here they were.

"I'm sure they will have proper...ah, facilities on Old Xiscapia to cater to our needs." The light flashed off his glasses and he yawned. "At least, I hope they have comfortable beds, I'm quite fatigued."

Army Group North, LZ...

Initially, Vin balked at Saan's suggestion: Him, spearhead the attack, lead troops straight into the face of the enemy once more? Truly, he had been thrust back into combat with an alarming disregard for his own doubts and insecurities. But as he listened further he saw, with abrupt clarity, that Jan-Con was a fool: The man was a political, he obviously had no combat experience. Vin wondered if the stories really were true, that high-ranking positions in the Ferran Army were bought and sold like marketplace goods to the highest bidder. If so, Jan-Con was a textbook example of what could happen when a military grew corrupt.

Even though these feelings, though, Vin felt the smallest spark of his old arrogance and pride flare: The suggestion that his troops were substandard angered him. Even an inexperienced leader like Jan-Con could be excused for doubting Vin, his record clearly showed his past mistakes (though Vin didn't know if the Ferran had access to XGA records), but Vin knew his troops could crush any of the Ferran Regulars: They were second only perhaps to Saan's own 610th Guards on this field. Even more so, despite his fears, Vin sensed he was being denied his chance at redemption, and this, more than anything, was what caused his tail to flick this way and that, agitated, ears to flatten and a baring of the teeth that could have been a smile but was closer to a silent snarl. He wouldn't allow this stupid human to drag him down with him, he had his own pit to climb out of and no one was going to get in the way!

As fast as the emotions had come, they died with Saan's acceptance: If the famed leader of the 610th Guards couldn't resist the Field Marshall, how could Vin, with his blackened record and smaller command, hope to? The words of his dispatch came back to him, hauntingly relevant:
You represent the Sixth Army, the Xiscapian Grand Army and even the whole Kitsune Empire with your presence. What you do reflects on Xiscapia; remember this, and lead with honor.
Vin closed his eyes briefly. Lead with honor.

"I understand, sir," his tone was suitably subservient and respectful, honed from years of answering to higher officers with the shame of his failure on his shoulders. He blatantly turned his head and looked at Saan, then back to Jan-Con. "If I may, Field Marshall, I have a squad of reconnaissance soldiers and a number of unmanned drones at my disposal: Perhaps we can pinpoint and destroy the greater threats to the line before or as we move, so the risk to your legion will be lessened. Imagine, sir, the boots of your men trodding on the bodies of your fallen foes as you march to victory, the more enemy units we remove from our path the faster we get to our destination," he smiled for the first time, "and think of the glory you will have as the Supreme Commander of the first army to reach the capital. History shall remember you forever."

Naked, unabashed flattery, but Vin knew how to work with people who saw him as entirely beneath him. Unless the man was a complete xenophobe, or more blind than Vin thought, he would at least allow units of the 511th to scout the area ahead and perhaps reduce the high casualty rate that was sure to come at the hands of the incompetent Field Marshall.

XIW Hand of Judgement

Green bowed, trying to imitate his lover. He was already getting tired of the SRS officer, but he knew that he couldn't pick a fight with the Xiscapian Army, not again, not so soon after his recent disgrace. He decided it would be better to grin and bear it then to risk even more fallout from the higher ups. He would get the bastard officer-the question was when. He rose, ready to get down to buisness, when the entire group heard raised voices from outside. Curious, the entire party turned to the source of the noise. Despite himself, Green moved a hand down to his holster before realizing what a ridiculous gesture it was...or not.
For some of the raised voices he heard had the deeper, more heavy accent that as good as screamed they weren't Xiscapian. He listened more closely. Two of them had the rough, hard speach typical to the Hives on Exoman. And one of them, the loudest of all, was from Veto itself...and Green knew exactly who it was.
The half colonel walked quickly to a porthole and looked out, seeing exactly what he feared-an armored car with the letters "MP" on the roof under a golden hawk-the symbol of the Military Police. Green sighed softly and walked slowly back to Dui, who was giving him a worried look.
He got to her just as the hanger door banged open and four Republicans in full plate walked into the room. On their arm was a white and black MP patch, and in their hands they carried rifles. They stepped to the side, and Captain Mkelen walked in. He was the only man without a helmet, and his expression was grim.
Ignoring everyone in the room as per tradition (though none of the Xiscapians,with the possible exception of Dui, who would have studied this kind of thing), Mkelen walked up to Green, who also per tradition, was already standing at attention. The Captain stopped hard three feet in front of Green and snapped a hard salute.
"Sir!" Green returned the salute just as crisply.
"Captain. Carry on your duty and be done with it-the defense of the Republic cannot wait." Mkelen snapped his heels together a second time and barked another "Sir!" before continuing.
"Lieutenant Colonel Mike Green, you are hereby relieved of your duty as Commanding Officer, First Republican Rifles. You are hereby relieved of your duty as Executive Officer, Joint Division. You have been recalled to Setulan by the Judge Advocate General to answer charges of Cowardice in the Face of the Enemy. Will you surrender your weapon please, sir?" Green unshipped his pistol and handed it, butt first, to the Captain.
"Will you surrender your rank pins please, sir?"
"I will not. I am innocent until proven guilty, and I shall not relinquish my rank until I have been tried fairly by my peers." The Captain nodded.
"Very well. Lieutenant Colonel, you will be given sixty seconds, to begin when I finish speaking, before I will escort you to your transport. Your minute begins now."
Without hesitation, Green walked over to Dui, hefted her in his arms, and kissed her deeply. He did not stop until forty five eternal seconds had gone by. Disengaging himself, he put her down gently and started to adjust his uniform.
"Until my return, Brigadier, I'm trusting my boys to you. Lead them well. Lead them smart." He turned to the SRS warrant.
"Warrant Officer Sawl, I look forward to kicking your ass in any activity, athletic or otherwise, upon my return. Until then...best of luck. You'll need it." He looked around once more, and with his last second of free breath, he turned to Dui one last time and leaned in closely, close enough to whisper three more words.
"I love you."
He turned around, and the four MPs surrounded him, with Captain Mkelen to the left.
"Fo-whad, HARCH!" The prison detail marched away into the ship.

Church

Marchamp listened intently, drinking in every word. As the priest continued to explain, Marchamp realized he was getting more and more excited. His heart was thumping faster and faster, and sweat was beading on his brow. This place was having an amazing effect on him. But something was strange, something was wrong, something...

Things...

Were...

Slowing...

Down.

A coppery taste in Marchamps mouth was all the warning he had. Even as he felt himself lose control of his body, his mind screamed at him.
Stroke!!!!
The ambassador coughed once, spraying blood, and then pitched over onto the floor.

HQ, Army Group South

Durmel frowned slightly.
"I think you are underestimating yourself, General...but let it never be said that I don't listen to my sub unit officer. Give me a minute." He stared off into space, and it looked like he wasn't even paying attention to the room anymore. Truth be told, he wasn't, but Anderson would quickly realize this was because Durmel was the type of officer who could keep the entire picture balanced firmly in his mind, and who could see all angles of a particular problem.
The Theater-General's eyes refocused.
"Alright. Here is what I'll do." He walked over to a different holo chart, beckoning Anderson to follow.
"What I'll do is have the 4th Mechanized Brigade-that's about five thousand extra men-support your initial assault. Colonel Rumen is the CO, he'll answer to you, me, and whoever you have leading at the sharp end. Moreover, I'll go a step farther. I'll detach the organic and attached artillery from the entire 368th Division and put it in support of your advance right off the bat. That should give you enough firepower to make the slimy bastards think the world is falling on them. Moreover, once the assault starts, I'll vector ninety percent of our airpower in direct support of you and your troops. That'll ease up on the Ferrans a little, but I'm not all that concerned about them-the multi-division fist to the face they will soon be taking is going to be enough to fuck them up any day of the week, and twice on sunday."

OOC-This will probably be my last post (barring a fluke where both you guys post within one day =P) for a very long time-as in, fifteen weeks or so. I'm sending you both TGs once I post this (or tomorrow morning-it is rather late) to cover what needs to be covered, and I look forward to coming back and spending a few hours catching up on all that has gone on. Best of luck over the summer, and have fun with the thread!

Starrider

"At least, I hope they have comfortable beds, I'm quite fatigued."

Emma smiled at his yawn, waiting patiently until he had finished before slipping lightly off his knee and sat in the seat beside the Kitsune, putting her hand in his as he regained his composure,
"I'm sure there's somewhere we can sleep." She said quietly, as if afraid of the Marine hearing what she was saying, "I'm quite tired as well." She nodded before twisting in her seat to look at the Marine standing guard over them,
"My Collegue and I are tired and need to rest. Have arrangements been made aboard for our accomodation?"
She asked in a commanding voice, but not getting up from her seat. Her yellow eyes looked over the Marine with interest, but there was enough command and respect in her voice to make it more if a suggestion than a demand or a question. She smiled slightly at him, looking up, tail twitching, black hair gleaming in the light.

Army Group North LZ

Jan-Con looked to the Kitsune with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. Surprise that he had offered such a thing and disbelief that the Kitsune had dared to make a suggestion to him on such a matter. Jan-Con knew what he was doing and was confident in his abilities to lead this Army against his former Employers. The fact that he had never commanded an Army of this size or of this quality before did not concern him, for he knew that his natural talent would soon make up for all of that once they were in the thick of the action. Not only that, but, as Commander of the Ferran Outcasts, he was in prime position to recieve a high ranking place within the new government, from which he could increase his already substantial fortune.

Fan-Ta was somewhat of a find for the Ferran General, a former Soldier himself with the Ferran Army, he was experienced in combat and Jan-Con paid a substantial amount of money to keep him at his side. In truth, Fan-Ta simply agreed with whatever his Paymaster told him. He knew that most of the Ferran General's strategies were more to do with what he thought was look good, as opposed to what was more effective overall. Fan-Ta knew Terra-Con personally, and he knew he was not a general to be underestimated, as indeed, all of these Commanders seemed to be doing. Sometimes the bilge did throw up a pearl.

Saan stood and frowned at the exchange but caught his Opposite Number's eye and began nodding quickly,
"I agree with him Sir. Send his Reconnisance group ahead to pick off areas of enemy resistance and your forces will progress relatively unscathed. The the glory is yours to take from there." he said it confidently.

However, Jan-Con shook his head, the addition of Saan having made his mind up. When two people tried to put pressure on the Ferran, it just made his mind up the other way,
"The Xiscapian Units will remain in the rear as a reserve until I call for it's assistance. Until then, my Outcasts will handle all that needs to be handled."
In truth, he was worried, worried about having these professional Soldiers in his midst, watching his every move. Even worse were the 10,000 troops of the Ferran Exile Battalions. Although they fought in Alversian Armour with Alversian weapons, Ferran blood ran deep in their veins and they were watching this General with keen interest.

Once the General had moved off to inspect his troops and bath in their adoration, Saan took Vin to one side,
"Man's an idiot." He growled, scar clearly visible on his left cheek, a trophy from previous battles in far off places, "Doesn't know what he's missing by putting your guys in the rear..." He looked up to see if Jan-Con or Fan-Ta were about, when they weren't, he spoke to him again, quietly,
"Listen, could you place your SRS troopers in front of my Battalion? My Light Company are exhausted and they could really use the assistance."

XIW Hand of Judgement...

Dui's eyes went wide when Green embraced her, hugging her so tightly she actually felt her boots leave the deck as her lips met his. She melted into his kiss, eyes closing, losing all awareness in forty-five seconds of pure bliss. When he finally released her she was breathless, almost panting, staring up at him with hope, fear, anger, despair, passion and longing all at once.

"Until my return, Brigadier, I'm trusting my boys to you. Lead them well. Lead them smart."

"You know I will," she smiled sadly.

"Warrant Officer Sawl, I look forward to kicking your ass in any activity, athletic or otherwise, upon my return. Until then...best of luck. You'll need it."

Sawl sneered but bowed, deeper this time. "Don't try for the insanity plea, Lieutenant Colonel..."

"I love you."

"I love you too!" Dui said softly before he was turned around and taken away. The Brigadier watched from the hanger doors as Green, under guard by the four MPs and their commander and closely watched by the Marines stationed throughout the complex. Edo was watching Dui forlornly while Tanj kept a wary eye on Sawl, knowing that the appearance of the SRS trooper and the Setulanite military police was simply too suspicious to be a coincidence. He had had something to do with it, but of course he couldn't prove anything.

Misha and Grimske watched from the opposite door of the hanger as Green was led away. The Major silently saluted his former C.O. as he watched him go, sighing heavily. "May Qonn smile upon you, sir," he whispered.

Misha laughed. "I've only known who Green was for two minutes and now he's being arrested. I like this bastard!"

"We still need to meet with Brigadier Dui," Grimske reminded her. "We'll have to introduce you to Lieutenant Colonel Green some other time."

Church...

Jade caught Marchamp as he keeled backwards, bright, syrupy blood splashing over her immaculate white robes as she prevented his head from being cracked against the stone floor. The two priests were instantly in motion, May nghein leapt up and was out the door, calling out to the lesser priests while Miyagi leaned over the Setulanite where he lay prone in Jade's arms. "Qonn, phụ tùng này cuộc sống của con người, ông là một vụ của độ sáng," he chanted, hands pressed to the Ambassador's temples. An EMT responded immediately: Critical services, such as law enforcement, firefighting and paramedical units were equipped with their own beaming devices, and thus could be on the scene where they were needed in literally seconds. The paramedics were met at the doors of the Church by Jade and Miyagi, who carried Marchamp's body between them with surprising strength for a seemingly frail old kitsune and a female, delivering him to them. "Do you want to ride with us, mi'lady?" asked one of them, not even raising an eyebrow when Jade nodded. Miyagi stood in the snow, leaning heavily on his staff, surrounded by priests, nodding to Jade as the hovercraft now laden with her and Marchamp took off.

Inside the ship she kept one hand tightly holding Marchamp's limp left one as paramedics worked to keep him alive and the damage contained and minimal within his brain. In less than a minute they landed at Rio Casa General Hospital and Jade was separated from the Setulanite Ambassador as he was loaded onto a hovering bed and shoved though the emergency room doors. In a few moments the figure was cut off from her view by hurrying doctors and nurses as they tore away his robes and hooked his body up to monitoring equipment. "He's going into cardiac arrest!" Someone shouted, accented by the beepbeepbeepbeepbeep of rapidly beating heart as signaled by a monitor.

"Get me a defibrillator!" A doctor yelled, the inside of his elongated surgical mask around his muzzle speckling with spittle. There was some frantic activity and he roared impatiently. "I mean now Qonndamnit!" Somebody handed him the twin pad-like devices and he applied them with expert ease, one above and to the left of the heart, the other one to the right and down opposite. "Clear!" An electrical charge shot up the wires and he slammed them into Marchamp's bare chest, the shock making his body convulse. The sound of the monitor abruptly cut out to the continuous shrill ring of no pulse, a long green bar displaying zero activity. "Again, again, people, let's do it again!" A second shock. "Clear!" Again the large human shook with the power, but the rate remained unchanged. The doctor shook his head, pressing the pads together for another round. "Third time's the charm," he muttered. "Clear!"

This time Marchamp spasmed even more than before, and to the relief of everyone present a slow, steady beep, beep, beep started up from the monitor. The medical staff crowded around again and began their real work...

XIW Starrider...

"My Collegue and I are tired and need to rest. Have arrangements been made aboard for our accommodation?"

The soldier snapped to attention almost unconsciously. "Yes Doctor, follow me please." The armored kitsune led Emma and Ginta up a gray corridor from the conference room, passing hatches and the occasional crewperson who looked up curiously at their approach but said nothing, until they reached a room several levels down before an unmarked door. "You'll both be staying here," he opened the door to reveal a simple room with two bunks, two personal console stations, a couple of footlockers, a closet and a bathroom. It was functional and clean, hardly the lap of luxury but accommodating for the four hours or so they would be guests on the ship. "The rest of the ship is restricted area unless you're accompanied by one of the crew, I'll be posted outside if you need anything." He bowed himself out, leaving the kitsune scientists finally on their own.

Army Group North LZ...

Vin sighed in frusteration. Saan couldn't have known it, but he had sabotaged Vin's efforts to salvage something from the Field Marshall's idiotic plans: By supporting Vin it no doubt seemed to Jan-Con that Vin was nothing more than an extension of Saan, and since the Ferran disapproved of Saan's suggestions he would have the same reaction to Vin's. It wasn't his fault, of course, he had just been trying to help, but it was harder to manipulate someone when your comrade co-commander was so used to everything being straightforward.

"Listen, could you place your SRS troopers in front of my Battalion? My Light Company are exhausted and they could really use the assistance."

Vin nodded, almost bowing, tail flicking. "Of course, Lieutenant Colonel. Corporal!" He barked into his communicator. "Front and center, HQ on the double!"

Half a minute passed and the door to the mobile command center opened again, a huge kitsune squeezing into the already cramped compartment. It was impossible to tell what his fur color originally was: That which was not covered by black armor was streaked and matted with paint and camouflage, the only bright color two orange eyes staring out. "Sir!" He saluted Vin.

"Corporal Fivus, you and your squad are to be running reconnaissance and first strike ahead of Lieutenant Colonel Saan's 610th Guards on the advance. They're being deployed to the left flank: Your main objective is to seek and destroy hostiles that might be lying in wait to ambush the main force. Failing that you are to pinpoint enemy positions so air, artillery or armored support can take them out, if this is not possible at the very least make sure Lieutenant Colonel Saan here knows about them so his troops don't walk into a trap. Am I understood, Corporal?"

"Clear as crystal, sir." The SRS officer turned to San, bowing and saluting. "Sir, if my men spot any hostiles or enemy positions we will keep you informed as to their location, movements and status. Please alert your troops as to our presence ahead so they don't accidentally try to take us out." His air was one of concise professionalism, just a sapient doing his job, but Saan thought he could hear a smile in his voice. "Don't worry about Jan-Con's men, they won't even know we're there."

Starrider

Emma followed the Marine through the ship, hands behind easily her back. Though she did feel a mite embarressed by the stares of the crew, it was nothing that she couldn't handle. As long as the crew maintained their discipline, then she knew she had nothing to fear from them. She continued through the ship until she found her quarters. She raised an eyebrow at what she had been given by the Internal Affairs people. The relatively simple accomodation was nothing compared to her well funished and luxurious Flat in Lune and not even on the same planet as her Father's mansion in Rio Casa. Then again, she supposed that it was a warship after all, not really designed for luxury but to provide the most comfortable accomodation at the smallest expense. It could be nice.

"Thank you," She bowed back to the Marine, "we shall bear that in mind."

She waited until he was gone before walked over to one of the beds and placed the palms of her hands upon it, gently testing it's springyness. Once she had found it was too her satisfaction, she kicked off her shoes and threw them to one side. Then she slowly peeled her t-shirt off, shaking her hips ti help it off, revealling her perfectly flat stomach, tanned by her time in the sunlight, skin wonderfully soft to the touch, bikini-like bra plainly visible. She seemed unashamed of it as she lay down on the bed, facing Ginta,
"It's been a strange day." She said lightly, wondering about what she was heading to, the air from the ventalation wonderfully cool on her skin, tail horizontal to her legs, tip twitching, toes pointing.

Army Group North, LZ

Saan nodded,
"You'll be just ahead of the Light Company. Speak to Major Kanai as soon as you get forward of the Battalion." he nodded to his men who were spread out in two long lines and beginning to advance forwards the Ferran Capital. The Squads and Companies were clearly distinguished, while Armour was deployed between the various gaps to increase the firepower of the Battalion and to offer more protection to the troops should they come under fire.

About two miles ahead of the main advance where the five hundred men who made up the 610th Guard's Light Company. They were in a much looser order, in battle formations, covering each other as they moved forward, as if under fire, for the Light Company could never be sure when they would be fired upon. Their duty was to spring ambushes ahead of the main advance. They were also to weaken and pick off the Enemy resistance before the main force arrived, hence it was home to the Battalion's Snipers as well.

Major Kanai, a small Kitsune big with a scar covered face and a worringly large part of one ear missing, was just behind the main line of the Light Company's advance. He turned to face the SRS troop, offering a firm salute,
"You guys are to be our Screening Force's screening force?" He sounded amused,
"Good to have you with us."

OOC- I am surprised the thread is still going! If you guys want me back, just drop me a PM or a TG or whatever you prefer.

XIW Hand of Judgement...

Dui still had her back turned to the others, watching Green and his escort until she could no longer see them. By now they were all assembled and looking at her, Edo, Tanj, Sawl, Grimske and Misha, waiting for her to get back to business. For a moment it looked as though the Brigadier had frozen in place, and the sensitive kitsune ears thought they might have picked up a small groan, but when she finally turned to face them her eyes were dry and her face calm and composed. "You were saying, Lieutenant?" She addressed Tanj.

The mecha commander started, clearly not expecting to be spoken to again, while Sawl growled softly in annoyance, but not so loudly as to attract attention fron Dui.

"Uh, yes, as I was saying I will be commanding the Wing of Light Assault Mecha and the Platoon of Heavy Assault Mecha that are being attached to the Hand of Judgement division; what you see here are the ships of the unit commanders, which will deploy directly from this hanger to the battlefield. The LAM will be divided into units of twenty five, named Blue, Red, Green and Orange Squadrons, and the HAM into Black and White Squadrons. Now, as you all know, the LAM is a very versatile piece of combat technology," he said with some pride, "it can combat enemy infantry, enemy armor, enemy mecha, enemy fighters and gunships, enemy artillery and even enemy starships-"

"To a very limited degree," interrupted Edo, echoing old rivalry between the Imperial Navy and the Grand Army. "They will never be a replacement for dedicated warships."

"Perhaps not," Tanj preened, "but they have proven their usefulness nonetheless. Thus they can quickly adapt to any role you might wish, Brigadier, and conduct operations against all types of enemies. The Heavy Assault Mecha, on the other hand, is better suited for long-range combat and can preform adequately as artillery if need be, though I understand the Hand of Judgement will be provided with its own detachment of regular batteries. The HAM can take up combat duties similar to that of the LAM, but it trades speed and agility for armor and increased protection. I would recommend the LAM be deployed ahead with the infantry while the HAM concentrate around the middle or rear of the formation as support."

"Alright," Dui nodded. "I'll leave the specifics up to you, Lieutenant; I trust you know what you're doing." She flashed him a brief smile and turned to Grimske and Misha.

"And you are?" She inquired of the pilot, who was watching Dui with undisguised interest.

"Squadron Commander Misha," she replied, making a casual attempt at standing at attention and, when failing, flipped a lazy salute. "I'm in charge of the XIN strike craft assigned to the XIW Hand of Judgement, which, as you can see," she gestured vaguely around the hanger, "isn't all that much."

Fifty gleaming Shuriken class fighters sat on the hanger deck, sloping wings creating light shadows where they rested. Near them squatted a gray Flyer class assault shuttle (http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b184/Upum/Star%20Wars/imperial_transport.jpg), a thick-plated, ugly beast rather unlike its more graceful white diplomatic counterparts, several turrets poking out from the stern and belly of the machine.

"All of 'em have been equipped with Procul tech," Misha snorted, "so the pilots, except for the ones flying the transport, will be safe and sound up here. The fighters will be there to provide air cover so you groundpounders don't get blown to hell by Congers or those new droids ships of the Booleans, and to do their best to make the battlefield a living hell for the other bastards. They can run either dogfighting or bombing missions, and they're shielded, so there shouldn't be anything the Dans or the Booles can throw at them that will be much of a problem. My pilots are pretty much universally well-trained and experienced, so you'll be able to get things done, Brigadier."

Dui just nodded, but Misha kept a keen eye on her. "Glad to have you pacifying the skies for us, Squadron Commander."

At last she heard from Sawl, who could only barely hide his irritation at being left until last.

"My unit of fifty elite SRS troopers are responsible for exactly what their name says: Scouting out enemy positions, reconnaissance and sabotaging enemy units," he began haughtily. "As per standard deployment operations, my soldiers go ahead of the main force if possible and determine enemy strength, size, location and other factors. As their training far exceeds that of a normal Grunt or Marine," he almost sneered, "they will travel only in fireteams of two, and operate in isolation, reporting only to me, where I will pass along relevant information to you and your officers, Brigadier. They will also undertake, if ordered, missions concerning intelligence gathering and battlefield assassination, so as to make enemy movements more transparent and weaken morale and the chain of command."

"Mmhmm," Dui grunted. "Sounds good to me, Warrant Officer." Her tone was almost sarcastic, and she put special empathise on the kitsune's rank.

Sawl didn't show that he'd heard. "I look forward to serving with the famed," a sardonic smile, "Hand of Judgement."

Rio Casa General Hospital...

Several hours had passed before the neurosurgeon finally emerged into the waiting room, surgical smock stained and dirty, mask gone, with dull eyes, a tired, limp tail and sagging ears. Jade and her husband stood immediately; Foxfire had rushed over as soon as he had heard the news of Marchamp's stroke.

"He's going to be alright," the doctor said at once, laying to rest the fears of both the rulers for the safety of their friend. "He's had a hemorrhagic stroke, that is, his brain was bleeding, caused by his old age, he must be a dozen decades and not an hour less, and the combined stress of the war," there could be no question as to what might cause such a reaction, "and what appears to be fatigue. The truth is, the Ambassador was, and appears to have been doing for some time, pushing his body to limit; it finally caught up with him." The doctor shook his head sternly, but his face expressed some confusion. "What I don't understand is why he's still with us at all: By all accounts, an attack like that to a man his age should have terminated him almost instantly, to be frank he should have been dead by the time we got him. I can't explain it, he's tough, the fact that he's going to pull though nearly unscratched is a testament to that, but by Qonn he should have died..." The kitsune shook his head again in wonder.

"By Qonn, indeed," Foxfire smiled, and shared a knowing look with Jade. "May we visit him?"

"He's still unconscious at the moment, and we'll need to keep him here a while longer yet to run some tests, but when he's well enough to receive company you'll be the first to know, My Lord."

XIW Starrider...

Ginta swallowed hard and tried not to stare at Emma's exposed skin, instead removing his own coat and hanging it on one of the posts. "Er, yes," he gulped again, "it has." He wondered what she was going to wear to bed: Was he going to have to sleep on top of that all night?
No, no, above that, not on top.

He took off his own shined shoes, the same he'd been to work in, and placed them at the foot of the bunk. The scientist glanced at his bag, but he didn't want to unpack now and have to put everything back again in another four hours, so he abstained and stood in the middle of the room in his stocking feet, at a loss. What now?
He tried again not to look at Emma, and failed.


610th Guards, Left Flank...

"Glad to be here, sir," the Corporal saluted. "On record we're not here, sir, off the record we're effectively at your command. Rules of engagement, sir?" He asked, wondering if the Major would try to micromanage them or simply let them roam ahead and do their job.

Starrider

Emma was too tired to really notice Ginta's embarressment, having a long day of work behind her. At the moment, all she wanted to do was settled into the comfortable bed and drift off to sleep. She was quite a light sleeper at the best of times, as were all her family, but even she knew that as soon as her head touched the pillow. However, something dawned on her that had the Kitsune blushing furiously, a realisition that she would not be sleeping alone for the first time in years and therefore she could not...oh Qonn...

"Uh..." She said quietly, sitting up in the bed, her face still a bright beetroot colour, tail twitching and flicking like mad as she tried to find a way to phrase her question to the Male that she actually quite fancied. Kitsune were not meant to be blessed with much of a sense of modesty but she liked Ginta, she cared what he thought about her and the last she wanted to do was...but she had to. She couldn't sleep otherwise and something told her she would need all the sleep she could get. So there was no way around it.

"I...uh....listen...I can't really...sleep with cloth in contact with my skin. It rubs and keeps me awake and I...well...I normallly..." She stopped, eyes downcast, unsure how to finished, "...do you mind if...I...uh..." She stopped, face reddening even more.

Army Group North, Left Flank,
Light Company Guards 610th

"Simple," The Major stated easily, "The same as the Campaign, no Civilians and no unnecessary collateral damage. The rest I shall leave in your capable hands. I ask only that you alert me of anything so I can pass it up the line." He nodded. Then watched as the SRS Troopers deployed.

Ahead of the SRS troopers was a wide exposed plain, coated in a carpet of long thigh-high grass. The hills, though gentle, were steep enough that one could not look above them. To the right was a large forest of pine trees stretching highi nto the sky. On the left horizon were the outlines of the grey mountains through which the Setulan and Alversian forces had launched their attack. Already, the peaceful silence of the plains was being interrupted by the distant crackle of laser fire, explosions and tank engines.

Ahead of the SRS troops though, just visible through the undergrowth of the grass and dug in under the shade of some smaller, conifer trees, was a large artillery gun of some kind, pointed horizonally towards the Allied forces, lying in wait for any Allied Armour to come it's way. However, while the gun looked new and modern, the crew manning it did not. Half of them looked barely out of their teens, while others looked old enough to be their great grandfathers and at least two others were missing a limb each. With them were a dozen troopers who smoked lazily, chatted and laughed. The Gunners looked nervous, especially their young Officer, while the Soldiers, more like a Mob, were unconcerned.

XIW Hand of Judgement...

The meeting had since adjourned after a quick run-down of tactics and a few of the worlds and their situations the Hand of Judgement could be expected to deploy to, and the six officers had split into three separate groups. Edo and Tanj were quietly pursuing the more than decade-old Army-Navy disagreement as to the deployment of mecha in space, while Grimske and Misha stood aside near the transport.

"So I'm going to be riding with this outfit a while," Misha cast an eye over the others, "seems like there's going to be some sparks flying, especially once that Green guy gets back, so it should be interesting."

Grimske sighed. "There are...tensions, of course, with all the different branches alone, not even mentioning the fact that half the Division is made up of foreign troops with foreign strategies and foreign customs. We made off all right at first, but now that we're receiving more support we're naturally getting more officers and more chances for conflict, and that's not even taking into account the relationship of the two highest commanders or Lieutenant Colonel Green's unfortunate blunder."

"Relationship...how is that going, anyway?" Misha turned her gaze towards Dui, who was speaking animatedly with Sawl, eyes gleaming predatory.

Grimske shook his head. "Don't even think about it Misha, they're very close, she saved his life during the Battle of Colony One and they've been together ever since. I highly doubt his trial will change anything, I believe they could kick him out of the service and she'd still want him."

Now it was Misha's turn to sigh. "She's not even a little bit-"

"No."

The Squadron Leader licked her chops. "Oh well, you can't blame a girl for trying."

"Yes," the Army Major rolled his eyes, "you can."

----------

"You seem troubled, Brigadier," Sawl's low tone intruded on Dui's thoughts, "afraid you'll never see your love again?"

The female officer bared her teeth at the SRS trooper. "Back off, Sawl, I know what you're here for. You make one step out of line and I'll court martial your ass for insubordination."

Sawl actually laughed at her. "Good luck putting that though to my superiors, Brigadier."

Dui sneered. "You're just mad because Green got away before you got a chance to take him out. When he comes back he'll be fully restored again, and you and your men won't be able to touch him."

Sawl snarled. "We kill the weeds in the ranks, Brigadier, if not here and now then somewhere else. Cowards eventually run straight to their deaths."

Dui nearly spat. "If you knew him you'd know Green is no coward. I pray that he will return before the war ends to prove you and whatever bastard that sent you here wrong."

Sawl snorted but turned away, stalking across the hanger to the exit, his escorts in tow.

XIW Starrider...

"Uh..."

"Eh?" Ginta, whos eyes had been sporadically flicking to and away from her, snapped his head around to look at her so fast he must have gotten whiplash. Suddenly his gaze was fixed on her: He couldn't have looked away for all the credits in the galaxy.

"I...uh....listen...I can't really...sleep with cloth in contact with my skin. It rubs and keeps me awake and I...well...I normallly...do you mind if...I...uh..."

Ginta blinked a few times behind his glasses, mouth slightly open, trying to comprehend what Emma was attempting to ask. "Er..." Was all that came out, and he felt himself flushing as well, sweat running from his armpit down his side, popping out on his forehead and a terrible heat washing over his body. "Well-" He fidgeted, and took a step back. "Yeah...uh, I'll just, er, excuse myself, don't trouble yourself on," he swallowed, it seems to be getting hard to breath. The scientists stumbled over his suitcase, fell against the door, grabbed a bag full of toilet articles and with a last, wide-eyed look at Emma, pushed the door open and fled.

Outside the Marine, obviously not having expected anyone to be out so soon, caught Ginta by the arm as he staggered past. "Where are you going?" He nearly shouted and then, catching sight of Ginta's almost shell-shocked expression, softened his tone. "Is everything okay, doctor?"

"What?" Ginta looked around, glasses askew, panting, pupils dilated. "Oh, er, yes sir, nothing wrong, um..." He glanced around at the drab bulkheads of the cruiser. "Is there a bathroom I can change and freshen up in?"

The guard seemed perplexed. "There's a bathroom in your quarters, sir, why not just-"

"Oh no, sir!" Ginta exclaimed. "I mean, I couldn't do that, um, I have to think about the lady, sir." He smiled shakily. "It's not right for me to be, ah, taking up all that space when she'd got her own, er, needs to attend to."

Ginta couldn't see the kitsune's face, but he thought he might have paled slightly. "Ah, of course Doctor, allow me to escort you."

Five minutes later...

Ginta stepped back up to the door and thanked the soldier. He felt better now, more confident, and walked back into his quarters with a smile.

Army Group North, Left Flank,
Light Company Guards 610th...

Fivus and his nine troopers were spread out in a half circle, approaching the enemy gun concealed by their cloaking devices and active camouflage. The kitsune Corporal dialed his helmet sights to focus in on the gun, the crew and the guards, watching carefully before decloaking, carefully camouflage, and giving orders though subtle flicks and twitches of his tail that only kitsune trained in the language of tail-speak would be able to understand. I count twenty armed hostiles and one large-bore AT gun, get ready to take it down on my mark. He could have simply used the secure frequency channel to relay his orders, but the Corporal didn't want to risk it in case the enemy could somehow pinpoint the communications or intercept them. Line-of-sight was more difficult, but ultimately safer.

Now he had to get the information back to the Major. Switching on his internal comm unit, he made the transmission back to the main screening force.

"Hotel, this is Jolly. My men and I have got a visual on a Charlie AT piece with about twenty tangos at coordinates 00582, request permission to engage, over."

"Permission granted Jolly, let us know when the job is done, over."

"Wilco Hotel, Jolly over and out."

Again using the tail language, Fivus got his men into position.

The first warning the Ferrans would get that they were under attack was when the heads of eight of the dozen soldiers exploded in showers of syrupy blood, chunks of brains and shards of bone as the eight SRS soldiers sniped them from their positions on the hill, the decapitated corpses of the unsuspecting men crumpling to the ground. Almost at the same time the two kitsune Fivus had sent down to creep around behind the artillery piece leaped out of the foliage, still cloaked, and gunned down three of the remaining enemy where they stood. The final soldier decided not to chance it and ran for the woods, but a flurry of blaster shots followed him and he dropped. The two Xiscapians down by the gun decloaked and ran yelling and screaming a mixture of Xiscapian and Galactic Common at the gunners, pointing their rifles threateningly, while the snipers fired down in the area, careful to not hit any of the gunners and to only send up puffs of dirt or tear off tree limbs with their shots, but creating the overwhelming sensation that the Coalition forces were all over them and that any attempt to fight back or flee would be suicide.

"Freeze!"

"Giơ tay!"

"Surrender!"

"Đặt xuống vũ khí của bạn!"

"Put your weapon down!"

"Trên mặt đất!"

Starrider

Emma sighed and nodded in thanks as Ginta crashed his way through the room to get outside. As he shut the door behind him, Emma lifted herself from her position and sat at the edge of the bed, deep in thought. Once Ginta had gone, she suddenly realised that she didn't really mind if he had seen her undress or not. She had found him to be kind, if not a bit awkward, and she did really like him. Would he have wanted to see her undress? She didn't know. He had done the gentlemanly thing by leaving her the room to herself while she did what needed to be done. However, the thought of Ginta watching her takes off her clothes was getting making her warm in all the wrong places so she pushed that thought from her mind, removed a strand of blondish, black hair from her face and went to work.

The first thing to come off were her black work trousers, which she had not had time to change before being whiped from her flat by the Internal Affairs Agents. She slowly lowered them to the floor, exposing her long, tanned, smooth legs to the air within the Starship. She carefully stepping out of them, and folded them to one side. She was now just standing in her lingerie, which was quickly removed to leave her stark naked in the middle of the room, facing the door. She took a deep breath, marvelling at how much more free she always felt when she was not wearing any clothes, skin cool from the air conditionining systems. She rubbed her legs together, enjoying the wonderful feeling as the smooth surfaces glided off one another. She was imagining Ginta standing in front of her as she did it, watching her...

Then the door opened and none other than Ginta entered, smiling much more easily now. Her reactions were delayed by shock, but the Kitsune gave a squeak of surprise and jumped towards the bed, quickly covering herself, but she knew Ginta had caught a full glimpse, if even only briefly. She lay in the bed, curling the bedsheet around her slight, yet fullsome form,
"Finished?" She asked quietly, vulpine eyes wide, blushing not only at having been seen by Ginta, but that she was imaging such a thing before it actually happened. And she was enjoying that fantasy.

Army Group North, Left Flank,
Light Company Guards 610th

The gun crew had already thrown down their variety of ancient pistols, medieval weapons and improvished melee weapons, keen to prove their willingness to surrender, the fight in them gone after the brief explosion of violence. The Kids looked shellshocked, staring at the bodies of the soldiers with wide, frightened eyes, pale faced, tinted with green, the elder Gunners, too, were shaken badly by the sights while the Amputees, being old Soldiers, merely looked forlorn. The Officer in charge of the gun, the only one in a Uniform and armed with anything approaching a modern firearm, raised one hand and, slowly, ever so slowly, took the pistol from his holster and quickly dropped it on the ground. The Ferran Defenders had yet to even fire a shot.

The gun had been taken and, now, beyond the gun, there seemed to be nothing other than the wide open plains that typified this part of the planet. Seemingly empty. But then appearances could be decieving.

XIW Starrider...

Ginta felt his mouth go dry and his heart began beating very fast indeed, tail curling and flicking in agitation, but his ears perked as if in reaction and he hadn't even looked away. He was still a male, admittedly he was still awkward around females even if he had lost his virginity, and he knew, animalistically, that he'd liked what he'd seen. He coughed quietly, trying to clear his mind: He couldn't go on like this, if he was going to have to share the room with her for the next two hours and forty five minutes he was going to have to get used to it, or risk hurting himself.

"I," he cleared his throat, fist over his mouth, starting to sweat, "er, I'm terribly sorry about," he blinked owlishly at her, "that." He glanced over at his cot and made a decision. There was no use for it: He was going to have to sleep in what he was wearing, there was no way he was going to strut about in his nightclothes in front of her.
They weren't bulky enough, so things could be...embarrassing.
More embarrassing, rather.

Army Group North, Left Flank,
Light Company Guards 610th...

Once it was clear the Ferrans had no intention of fighting back the squad quickly and efficiently secured the area and began their work. The C.O. was separated from the other seven gunners, who had their hands cuffed behind them and were searched for weapons and tools before being sat in a circle under the shade of the trees, under guard by one of the troopers. Another stood on a risen area and began scanning the fields with his helmet detection units, using thermal imaging, motion sensing, X-ray and pattern discernment sensors to find out if any more of the enemy was waiting for them in concealment. The other seven began working over the gun, disarming it and making sure no enemy units which doubled back could use it against the main force. Fivus contacted Kanai again.

"Hotel, this is Jolly, the piece has been neutralized, my men are disabling it now and we have eight prisoners, request a squad dispatched to receive them and take them back to the main force. I will begin interrogation of their commander to ascertain the positions of as many enemy units as he knows, and continue from there. Jolly out."

Now the Corporal turned to face the C.O., visage still hidden behind his helmet but very obviously alien by his strange form under the armor and the tail. Fivus left his gun pointing at the man: If he thought wrongly that the kitsune was going to execute him if he didn't tell him what he needed to know, so much the better.

"Name, rank, serial number and branch to start with," he said easily in Galactic Common, "then tell me the exact locations of the other guns in this area. If you comply, I'll put in a good word for you when you go on trial and you'll get to see you family again. If not..." He shrugged, the gesture as full of meaning as it was empty.

XIW Starrider

"No, no, it's my fault," Emma replied, her own blush still evident as she hid her form beneath the bedseats, curled into a ball as she watched him wander around the room like someone suffering from shellshock. However, she did not get the impression that he had disliked that he had seen and it gave her a little more confidence. She uncurled from her ball under the covers and relaxed a little more. She always felt so liberated whenever she was without clothes and now, for some reason, she felt an overwhelming urge just to throw off the covers and lay there, in full view, tail curling excitedly. However, she resisted the urge, not wanting to scare the living daylights from the poor Scientist. She mumbled a goodnight and settled down to sleep.

However, as she tossed and turned, trying to get to sleep, she found herself unable to settle. The noises on the ship were unfamiliar, the bed uncomfortable, and she felt so desperately lonely. No one from her familiy was readily available on the phone and, as she always did in these circumstances, she thought of her childhood. When one of them had had a nightmare, or couldn't sleep, it was not uncommon for them to sleep with the eldest, curled up in bed together, enjoying the comfort and security of another body curled up beside her. Before a certain time, it had been Chloe they had all run to, Emma herself, spending nights curled up with her elder Sister. After Chloe had been killed, they had all come to her. Now she needed that security and comfort.

She slowly slide from the bed and climbed the ladder up to where Ginta was sleeping. The air was cool on her bare skin and she was hesitant for a moment,
"Ginta?" She asked quietly, afraid of his rejection, "I can't sleep...can I sleep beside you?" She knew how ridiculous it sounded, a grown Kitsune wanting to sleep with someone, but she needed that comfort.

Army Group North, Left Flank,
Light Company Guards 610th

"Roger, we're enroute now, eta, five minutes. Hold your position until we can catch up with you."

"Lieutenant Janran, 96th Milita, id number 1002432" the young Lieutenant replied dully, a small smile on his face, almost a form of relief at not having to fire a shot, "I was ordered to recruit some people from the local village to man this gun, because my crew had deserted their posts. There's only Militia in this area and I have no idea where they are, the radio doesn't work." He sighed.

The fields, a prime area to ambush an advancing unit, were empty, with no sigh of enemy forces.

XIW Starrider...

Ginta was silent and still for so long Emma might have been inclined to think he had fallen asleep, but the kitsune scientist was actually quite stunned. He was lying unmoving and trying to convince himself that this wasn't, in fact, a dream produced by his half-starved libido, and that this was actually happening to him when he'd only personally known his colleague for less than a day. He could see every curve of her perfect nude body even in the dimness, and she was so close, looking earnestly at him though she could not see his face. Mutely, not trusting himself to speak, Ginta shifted his weight so a space was made between himself and the rail, not moving any more than he had to as if afraid too much motion would make the entire situation disintegrate. His breathing was controlled, but shallow he felt himself trembling slightly in...nervousness? Fear?
It was so hard to think.

Army Group North, Left Flank,
Light Company Guards 610th...

"Roger, we're enroute now, eta, five minutes. Hold your position until we can catch up with you."

"Wilco Hotel, standing by."

"Lieutenant Janran, 96th Milita, I.D. number 1002432. I was ordered to recruit some people from the local village to man this gun, because my crew had deserted their posts. There's only Militia in this area and I have no idea where they are, the radio doesn't work."

"Private?" Fivus looked to one of the soldiers busy dismantling the gun. The SRS trooper picked up the radio and turned it on, trying to find a frequency, but the device didn't even make a sound. He opened it up and a few badly torn wires, a handful of dust and a roach carcass fell out: The radio didn't looked like it had worked for some time. The Lieutenant was telling the truth there, and they hadn't found any maps, unit roasters or deployment orders. Janran didn't have any reason to lie to them, and Fivus didn't suspect him of it; he simply nodded and sent the Ferran to sit, handcuffed, with his men.

"Looks clear, sir." The soldier who had been scouting out the field reported.

Fivus looked out at the expanse. He didn't like the look of it...that was prime ambush territory. He didn't trust the scans: They could be fooled, and Fivus wasn't one to take chances.
He'd have to figure out a way to deal with it.

XIW Starrider

Emma remained patiently at the top of the bunk, hoping quietly that he would agree. She could see him easily, even in the dark. She could hear him breathing, yet he remained still. For the longest moment, the Kitsune feared that he would reject her question, fearing the intimacy that such an agreement would ellecit. She wondered if he understood that her request was purely for her own comfort and nothing to do with sexual attraction, though she did indeed like him in that way. At the moment, she was scared about the situation, being ripped from her little life and thrown into a new enviroment. She was nervous and, failing a Sister of hers to curl up to for comfort she came to Ginta. She hoped he understood that she would not have performed such an act to any man, in case that man got ideas about her innocent request. She knew she could trust Ginta and that was why she asked him, even if he did not understand it. But, at the moment, she was afraid of his rejection.

Then she saw him shift over slowly, hesitantly and she mentally gave a sigh of relief. She was starting to get cold in the open air so she slide into the offered spot beside him, shivering in delight as she felt the cotton of his bedsheet rub against her smooth, tanned skin. She settled beside him, hair billowing out behind her as she rested on her elbow staring into his eyes,
"Thank you," She breathed into his ear and kissed him softly on the cheek in thanks before she settled beside him, her body curling around his easily, like a child would sleep next to it's mother. Emma was asleep in moments.

Army Group North, Left Flank,
Light Company Guards 610th

It was not long before a part of the Alversian light Company advanced up to the gun position. Fifty men who moved in pairs, one covering the other, until they were in the gun ditch itself. The Major in command, a tall Kitsune, detached a Squad of his to lead the Prisoners back to the main Allied lines. He walked to where Fivus was standing and looked out to the open plain,
"Prime ambush country." He said in a gruff voice.

XIW Starrider...

The kitsune male shook slightly when he felt her lips brush against his cheeks, and he felt his tail swing itself back and forth, one leg nervously jittering up and down. Careful not to come into contact with any more of Emma's bare flesh than he already was, Ginta raised himself up and solidly sat on his own tail, one leg locking around the other, staring at the ceiling, feeling the warm presence of Emma at his side. He glanced over, then looked away guiltily: She hadn't even bothered to pull the sheets up over herself. Ginta felt his leg start up again and jammed his other limb over it almost angrily, using all his willpower to keep his gaze solidly fixed on the ceiling above. Finally, with a small gasp, he sat up in bed, sweat making dark spots under his armpits, on his back and thighs, running down his face. There was no helping it, he decided, a man had to do what he had to do. He couldn't sleep, it wasn't his fault, he thought as he slid his form over hers.

Three hours and forty-five minutes later...

The Marine shifted his weight from one leg to the other, quite annoyed at this point. The damned scientists had no sense of punctuality or military discipline, he'd called for them twice now and there'd been absolutely no response. Now I'm gonna have to go in there and get them, he thought dejectedly. After four fucking hours of guard duty for them they can't even summon the common decency to get themselves up, and now I've gotta play momma. Why can't I ever get a break!?

The soldier cracked open the door, helmet off, aware that if he shook them from their respective slumbers with his battle gear on they might think something was wrong, though he privately thought it would serve them right. The Xiscapian glanced down into the bottom bunk, then stopped short. The covers were pulled back, so it had been slept in, but there was no one in it. Slowly, the guard raised his eyes to the top bed.

On the side closer to him he was confronted with the sight of a totally nude female kitsune, that same vixen scientist with the officer's voice but the model's body. She seemed to be resting peacefully, and the kitsune didn't dare try to wake her, even now seeing her counterpart beside her. The other one appeared to have been tied to the bed, securing the knots with the bedposts, sheets wrapped around him in a cocoon, only his face visible. By the lack of raw skin and his apparent lack of concern they looked self-inflicted, but who was he to tell? He, too, looked to be asleep, but it didn't take a genius to put two and two together and figure out what had happened. "Kinky..." He breathed, and backed away, stepping outside and quietly shutting the door. They didn't pay him enough to interrupt that.

Army Group North, Left Flank,
Light Company Guards 610th...

"Indeed," Fivus nodded, pleased that the Major was so closely echoing his own thoughts. "My men have already scanned it, and it looks to be clean, but I don't trust it, scanners can be fooled." He shrugged. "I would call in a APNAF air strike or an artillery bombardment, but that would tell everybody in a ten-mile radius that the Coalition has taken this spot and I wouldn't want to be accused to wasting resources." The helmeted soldier looked over at the officer. "I don't want to sent in any of my men or yours before I'm completely sure there's no one in there. Any ideas?"

XIW Starrider

Fortunately, the Marine's closing of the door woke Emma from her light slumber, making her wearily open one eye, then another, squeezing both shut again temporarily, in case it had been a dream and she could sleep for another few hours. However, she knew that was a fool's hope and so she opened both again and gave a loud yawn, uncurling from her ball. She stretched out both her legs and arms, arching her back and giving a soft whine of pleasure at the feeling. When she turned to look over at Ginta though, she paused. She shut her eyes and opened them again to make sure that she was not dreaming this and that Ginta had indeed turned himself into a sort of Mummy creature. Her tail curled into a question mark shape to highlight her internal confusion. She thought it time to wake him as well from his...unusual slumber,
"Wakey, wakey, rise and shine," She said softly in his ear, kissing him gently on the forehead, "Looks like you had quite a busy few hours." She smiled, before descending from the bunk and starting reluctantly to dress.

Army Group North, Left Flank,
Light Company Guards 610th

"Hmm..." The Captain thought for a moment, looking over his men as they crouched out of sight in the undergrowth just beyond the gun, thinking of wither or not an ambushing force may have seen them destroy the gun and take the crew prisoner or not. His men could easily get into the field without problems, but then remained the problem of trying to force any potential ambushing force out.
"Shrapnel from mortars?" He suggested, thinking, "if they already know the Allied line of advance, then they'll be expecting air and artillery strikes on areas such as this. One or two minutes of bombardment, just to see their reaction?" He suggested.