FSE

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Hay guys, I decided to totally redo my series, the war. I'm working on the second and third as we speak. After getting a little feedback, I tweaked a couple of things, and here it is, my revised form.

Chapter 1

In this war for the world, there are two sides, The Correlation and the Brigadier Empire. This war began over a trade agreement with a country in-between the two super powers called Aseria. Mainly a desert region, Aseria is rich in valuable minerals, which is why the country was so sought for. Unfortunately, both The Correlation and the Brigadier Empire wanted this piece of land, and so, they came to the only impasse breaker; War. In the continent divided, both governments had their own pickings of advantages. The Brigadier Empire had Lush forests and mountain ranges to protect them. The Correlation, however, resided on tropical island nations as the continent broke up into small and large individual islands.

The Brigadier Empire's capitol was centered in the largest of the mountain ranges, named Valhalla; the massive city was populated with nearly four million. The Correlation's capitol, Imperator, was a large range of islands connected to one another, housing twice as many as the Brigadier's capitol.

As the war reached a decade, the Brigadier Empire was winning the war. Eventually pushing the enemy out of the Empire's borders, and since the people of Aseria would not give them shelter, the Correlation was forced to retreat back to their homeland. The Brigadier Empire pushed this to their advantage, pressing with their fleets of carriers. The closer they got to the enemy territory, however, the more conflict the Empire experienced. From the inside of its borders, many activists called for an end to the bloodshed after so many years of fighting. The Empire did not listen, prolonging the war by sending in more soldiers.

They of course, gave reasons for 'dying for your country to end the tyranny of the correlation' and other propaganda phrases. This was never enough for a soldier however, and a soldier is what a soldier does. And what Sergeant Mal Genira of the Special Forces division 5 does, is show those Correlation bastards who is the top dog.

The helicopter had just taken off from the carrier, and we moved in on the island. Already, the marines had secured the beachhead, and the enemies were dug in tight. The Marine CO had called in for reinforcements, and the local carrier happened to be transporting army special forces. That is the Special Forces division 5. With Captain Janks, a brutish sort of a wolf, leading the troop, they were renowned for sound tactic and positive result. Sergeant Mal Genira was sitting closest to the helicopter door with his SANAF-15 cradled in his arms. The assault rifle was outfitted with a scope and grenade launcher, and painted camo on Mal's own order.

Being a sergeant also gave him the M-60 machine gun strapped to his back, heavier fire power came with higher rank. Looking to the rest of the privates, his vixen corporal, and his lizard sergeant major, he knew that after this battle he'd be missing a few of those faces. Most of the privates were green as his helmet, and the enemy emplacements were thick with Corries. Looking outside the helicopter's door, they were just overhead passing the Marine emplacements, now flying over the dense jungle terrain of the island. Sergeant Major Horris choose that time to speak up.

"Alright you pack of grunts!" Came the gruff voice of the sergeant major, "Our group has orders to take out an enemy AA emplacement camp that is making it hell for our bombers. The helicopters are going to land at the southwest part of the jungle, while the Captain lands at the southeast. We encompass and attack the heavily guarded encampment together. Any questions?" None of the privates even bothered to speak up. Horris nodded, "Good. Corporal Aria." The vixen corporal looked up, "Get the Captain on the radio and tell him that..." He didn't get to finish his sentence. I saw the one thing out the side that the slow moving copter had to fear. "Warhawks to the south west!" I yelled, as every private's eye widened as the sound of the Correlation fighter bomber propeller engine followed Mal's announcement. Horris cursed, "Shit! Pilot! Evasive maneuvers!" Mal didn't think what he was about to do would be very effective but he thought what the hell.

Since the captain's crew had all of the anti-tank material, Mal had to improvise. Taking the M-60 out from his back, he laid down, didn't bother to deploy the tri pod, and fired at will. The fifty caliber weapon shook as Mal pushed the trigger, the first Warhawk, which was the closet, took a few of the burst rounds Mal was firing through the cockpit, causing it to shudder, but not alter from course. The five Warhawks fired their mounted guns, tearing through one of the two propeller engines on the helicopter and peppered the troop cargo bay. Many of the bullets seeped through the armor. Some of the privates were torn to shreds by the impact. The rest panicked, and stood up, ready to jump out of the transport helicopter. Sergeant Major Horris was dead; he took a round to the head, killing him instantly, leaving Mal to command.

"Jump for it!" Mal yelled out to the survivors. "Drop zone coordinates aborted! Privates, go go go go!" One by one, the privates jumped out of the copter, the near 20 foot drop survivable for hardened soldiers. The Corporal argued for Mal to go first, but he pushed her out before it could continue. Running up to the cockpit to fetch the pilot, it appeared she was struggling to keep the bird up.

"If I let go of the stick, the bird will definitely crash!" The dragoness howled. Grabbing the control stick himself, Mal pushed her out of the seat, "Go!" The dragoness hesitated, as if to try and save Mal. Looking eye to eye, she spoke, "Just make it back soldier boy." Grinning, I bent over and gave her a kiss on the sweet muzzle. Jumping out of the plane and spreading her wings, the dragoness eventually glided down to her comrades.

Mal, glad to see she was safe, turned his attention back to the peril at hand, and cursed. "Oh shit!!" The other wing of the helicopter clipped on a tall jungle tree, sending the carcass of the copter tumbling into the ground.

The Correlation Colonel saw the helicopter plummet to the ground, and as the debris settled, the Fox barked an order. Several privates ran towards the downed vehicle, and poked their heads into the cargo door.

Mal was on the edge of barley conscious. His breathing barley audible, his left shoulder slightly in pain from hitting the cockpit window, and he never knew how close he came to death. The Correlation privates walked through every inch of the copter's remains; one poked their head into the cockpit, quickly loosing interest in the nearly still form of a human sergeant. Returning to their superior, eventually the Correlation soldiers moved on, leaving Mal to rest his head, remembering in a slumber, how this all came to be.

He was sitting alone at the bar that night, nearly a month after graduation. The Hot Scale was quiet tonight, Louie happened to be serving free rounds, and Mal had decided to take advantage of that. Sitting on the bar stool with jazz music playing, Mal took another sip from his drink. Then the door opened, and turning around a lonely dragoness entered. She had obviously been caught out in the rain, and her modest trenchskirt was slightly soaked. Quietly she sat a few seats down from Mal, asking Louie for some light champagne.

Mal wanted to hit things off, not wanting to be alone at the bar all night (same with an old gruff lion for company) and he looked down to her and tried to speak but instead his jaw nearly fell off. Her body figured was sexy; she had at least a D cleavage, a long, slender form, a graceful neck, a sapphire like blue scale color with a natural tattooing of black tendrils, as if meant for more design then genetics. When her gaze settled upon a young human's startled gaze upon her, she blushed gently.

"Excuse me sir," She said in a low, innocent like voice. "If you're trying to say I'm attractive you have a very unorthodox way of complimenting a lady." Louie chuckled behind the bar, and Mal straightened up quickly.

"Uhhh...sorry. I was a little distracted there a moment." The dragoness only blushed deeper. Politely bowing his upper torso, "My name is Mal, and yours?" She looked up, "The name is Dianna Articus." Giggling slightly at his proposed chivalry, she started the conversation. "So, what brings a nice fellow like you to the bar, all alone?"

Mal shrugged, "I have no girl, plus all my training buddies are having their own time." Dianna looked at me quizzically, "I'm a soldier, so I got stuck in a unit with a bunch of other guys, so we're pretty became buds off the field of battle." She smiled pleasantly, "Aww, what a shame. A lonely nice guy." She bent forward slightly, showing off only a bit. "How about a couple drinks on me, and we talk a little?" Mal agreed, and so that night had begun.

The couple started off small, talking about what they had done recently. New movies seen what new books they had read, and as it turned out, both had a fascination with reading. Eventually that built, with Dianna eventually confessing that she loved good ol' dirty romantic types. This invoked a bit of a laugh from Mal, and a drink on him as well as an apology.

Despite just having met, Mal felt a sexual attraction toward the girl, and he felt a bit ashamed about that. Opening his mouth to speak, Dianna beat him to it. "I'm sorry if I seem forward, or a little old fashioned, but the place that I'm staying at is not too far away..." She looked down, blushing a deep crimson. Mal at first was stunned to silence, but eventually spoke up, "Sure."

At first Dianna seemed taken back by the accepted proposal. But with a smile on her face, she stood up, took Mal by the arm, and dragged him out the door, with a grinning Louie behind the bar.

Mal's eyes slowly creaked open as his consciousness slowly returned. Groaning, he sat up gently from the cockpit seat. He ears slightly run, and his left arm was bothering him, but besides that, Mal was good to go. Looking at the cockpit, he sighed in slight despair. His M-60 had been broken neatly in half from the crash as it hit the bulkhead, and his SANAF-15 was no where to be found. Using the seat as leverage, Mal stood up and left the cockpit, also retrieving his lost helmet, he stumbled over the corpse of a young private. Grimacing at the young pup's surprised look on his face, he bent down, closing the private's open eyes, and took his S1 rifle, along with his ammo and grenade attachments. Walking out of the helicopter proved to be easy, not a single enemy soldier was in sight.

Using the rifle for support as he slowly regained control over his legs, Mal made his through the brush of trees and tropical bushes trying to find the rest of his soldiers. His soldiers, he chuckled to himself, with such a quick change in leadership, Mal couldn't believe his short time as leader of the 5th ever even happened it was so quick.

Finally arriving to the place his soldiers had landed, due to the amount of discarded parachutes and footprints, he used his tracking skills to follow to where his troops had gone. Then Mal realized something very important. Taking out his small wrist watch, he gasped at what time had gone by. He had been out for nearly an hour! There was no telling what had happened! Quickening his haste, he had to catch up with the rest of the 5th.

The sound of gunfire kept getting closer, so Mal sped up. The local tree life slowly diminished, the majority of any plant was burning, and the ground decorated with the bodies of gray uniformed Correlation soldiers. Keeping his rifle trained, eventually he came to a bunker. The medium sized concrete building appeared empty, but nonetheless, Sergeant Mal Genira was ready. Gently pushing the door open with the butt of his rifle, he checked the ground for trip wire, and then entered slowly. With the exception of a few dead soldiers, of both sides, the bunker was empty. Walking over to one of the dead he recognized the 5th division's patch on the private. Placing a hand over his face, Mal wished his assumption of so many privates dying in this fight hadn't been perceived. Standing up, he began a sweep of the bunker. Nothing really useful, no intel, no other weapons, absolutely nothing.

However, as Mal made his way to the second level, one Correlation officer was slumped against one of the bunker's windows. The blood spots obviously pointed that the poor dragon had been shot in the chest. Mal was about to push the body out of the way when he noticed a pair of binoculars in the officer's claws. Figuring he wouldn't be needing it soon, Mal slid the binoculars from the dragon's cold grasp and push the corpse out of the way anyway. Wiping the blood off the binoculars lenses, mal put them to his eyes and looked out to where the gunfire was loudest.

Sure enough, Mal saw Corporals Aria and Articus were down there, leading what group of the 5th had survived the battle. They had holed up in another bunker, this one larger and supported with machine gun nests. However, the enemy had rolled in Flak 99s, and while the small artillery crews struggled to reload their gun, Mal brought to bear the S-1. Since he hadn't grabbed a scope, Mal was going to have to this the old fashion way. Holding his breath and aiming the rifle down the iron, Mal did his best to get the fur at the firing position in his sight.

The Flak 99 was loaded, and just as the fur behind the firing position was about to pull the switch, the S-1 round hit him at the base of the neck, where the standard Correlation helmet did not cover. With a bloody gurgle, the body slumped to the ground, his paw sliding away from the ignition trigger. His comrades, terrified, searched around for the sniper. Sighing in relief, Mal was about to take another shot, when suddenly, one of the Correlation soldiers spotted him. Hoisting up the C-bazooka strapped to his back, the soldier fired. Mal knew he only had seconds as he ran from his position. The anti-tank round struck the bunker, blowing the wall away and sending Mal flying. Hitting the ground with a hard thud looked down to his chest. His dogtags had flown out of his shirt, and were dangling around his neck, coated in blood. Laying his head down, he slowly dripped into another unconscious state.

There he was, in a strange dragoness's apartment. The living room was somewhat Spartan, in a feminine taste. The wallpaper was a dulled blue; the living room had been cleaned and organized. A glass table, every foot's nemesis, was in the middle of the room with a comfortable sofa and a television. There was a small and orderly kitchen, as Mal explored Dianna's abode, along with a small hallway leading to the bathroom and Dianna's bedroom.

After asking politely if Mal had a good look at the house, Dianna led him down the hallway, taking a right, into her bedroom. The small, compact room was a little crowded with two people. A desk with many stacks of papers along with a fair sized single bed made walking perilous. Such a statement proved true, as the high heels Dianna was wearing slipped, and she fell into Mal's arms. Looking down, both young adults blushed, but Mal made the first move. Bending his head slowly, he made contact with her muzzle. Dianna's eye opening quickly and then closing slowly as the kiss evolved.

Pushing one another onto the bed, Mal on bottom, being the gentleman, and both looked eye to eye. Mal spoke up first, "Dianna, are you really sure about this? I mean, it is a pretty big thing for me. I'm not so sure about you." He asked in all concern, making Dianna smile. "Well, if it makes you any more comfortable, I'm a little embarrassed too." Leaning forward, "You're my first human," she confessed. Mal blushed deeply at this, wondering what other experiences Dianna had before he came along.

Dianna placed a hand on his chest, still with that seductive smile on. "And I am touched by your concern. Also to let you know, I am very much sure. You're a real sweet man, with a few good virtues under his belt. I really like that." Leaning forward, she broke into another kiss. Her muzzle and his mouth melting together, her tongue entered his mouth, wrapping around his tongue. With a passionate moan, the two lovers explored one another, their hands in a desperate search for what made the other tick. Eventually, Mal's hand settled on Dianna's tail, giving it a gentle rub, making her giggle. "Ooohhh! Watch those hands Mal...you might get a surprise if you feel down there." Giving a playful snap of her jaw, Dianna licked the side of his face.

Mal's hands kept on going, getting another slightly gasp from Dianna as his hand brushed against her panties. "Wanna play that way soldier boy? Be my guest." Dianna's left paw sliding into Mal's pants, slowly caressing his growing manhood through his boxers. With a grunt, Mal moaned gently. Dianna then said, "Sweetie, I do think the time for clothes is gone."

Hurriedly, both young lovers discarded their clothes into a pile, not concerned with anything but to begin. Pushing Mal once more to the bed, Dianna mounted him. Taking him in all the way fully at first seemed to be a good idea. She nearly lost herself at the time however. His cock was not like anything she had before; it was like a new flavor. Her blush made itself known as Mal grit his teeth in slight sexual pain. Dianna slowly slides herself off, pre-cum dripping from her wet clit, with a content smile on her face. "Aww, came already sweetheart?" Mal nodded, blushing as if caught doing something wrong. Dianna giggled "Oh lighten up Mal, unless there is something...." Dianna trailed off, leaving Mal to blurt, "You're my first!" The statement stunned Dianna, making her rely, "You mean, you've never been in bed with anyone else up till now?" Mal shook his head. Dianna then spoke, "Mal, this is a big thing for you I'm guessing." Mal nodded, then "And I really do like it. With you I mean." Now Dianna's turn to blush, she looked into his blue eyes. "Thank you."

Mal, in his male pride, placed his arms around her and kissed her hard. Dianna gently moaned, then eeeked as she was flipped around and underneath Mal. Still holding the kiss, Mal shoved his way into her warm slit, causing her juices to leak out. Dianna couldn't gasp, her mouth silenced by his. As Mal pushed himself in deeper, forcefully, more and more of her leaked. Mal kept on pumping, arousing Dianna every time. And this is his first?! I doubt it... the way he is going at it. Her thoughts interrupted as she climaxed. Moaning, she released all over Mal's cock and onto her bed sheets as well. Her clear juices everywhere, Dianna biting her lip in slight embarrassment at the mess.

Mal was not far behind. With a loud moan, his warm cum filled her. Dianna gasped slightly, his warm milky liquid pouring out of her as well. Falling snout first onto Mal, she couldn't help but smirk. "Well, you certainly made a mess of my bed." Just to make him blush, of course. Dianna looked to her clock above her bed rest. They'd only have been going at it for nearly an hour, she wanted more. Looking down to Mal, knowing he had the same thing in mind, the night was full of love and joy.

The next morning ended any happy moment. Mal had been called to duty, and he at least could have his pick of where he fought. Dianna suggested the 5th Special Forces division. Her sister was in that division, and could help him with the ropes. During that day he was suited up, and his training at boot camp had begun. Giving a kiss to the one he loved a week later was hard, having to say good bye so soon. He'd be back, he had promised Dianna. He'd be back....

Jumping back into consciousness with a start, he gasped heavily. Looking onto his chest, there was a fair deal of blood, but not all his. And his dogtags were gone, he thought to himself disappointed. The bunker was near collapse, the anti-tank round had nearly destroyed it. Luckily for Mal, it hadn't brought the ceiling down. Getting up weakly, he leaned against one of the walls of the nearly-collapsed bunker. Looking out to the south, he tilted his head in curiosity as he saw a Brigade Imperial Frigate at the docks instead of anything Correlation. Walking at a slow pace, he began to make his way towards the docks. At least there was nothing wrong with his legs, think optimistically.

The celebration was short, as the Brigadier Empire counted the deaths. The marines had lost two hundred soldiers, and the 5th had lost the majority of its three hundred and sixty five soldier battle group. Three Medals of Honor were awarded, and one posthumously. Sergeant Mal Genira had been discovered underneath a collapsed bunker, a rifle in his hand, and it hadn't have taken a genius to realize he had saved the 5th division from death by killing an enemy artillery gunner. The only part of him taken was his dogtags, since the battle was still going on. Now, Captain Janks was holding a ceremony for the deceased soldiers, with the last five minutes to honor Sergeant Mal Genira, deceased.

Arua Articus wept gently. Her sister had entrusted her lover to her, and she had failed. Now, Mal's body somewhere lying in the jungle, decaying or being eaten by some animal, she was going to have to explain this all to Dianna. Captain Janks was standing at a makeshift pedestal, made fro ma few boxes looted from the enemy, and began a speech.

"Soldiers of the Empire," He began. "Today was one of the 5th division's bloodiest days. Never in our service history have we lost as many soldiers as we have today. We've lost brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, and comrades in arms. To the survivors, all I can say is at least you survived. To carry on the fine legacy of our fallen comrades." The Captain sighed in sadness. "However, one of our fallen received the highest honor any soldier could be awarded. For saving his platoon from immanent death at the cost of his own life, Sergeant Mal Genira is to be awarded the Medal of Honor. It was, an honor serving with such a human, and he will be remembered." Lowering his head, the silence descended upon the group.

Then, right in the middle of the grief, a lone figure approached the makeshift pedestal that had been crafted for Captain Janks. This figure was so coated in gore and ash that he was barley recognizable. As every member of the 5th division looked up, jaws dropped, even the Captain looked shocked, and the figure took the dog tags on the podium and looked out to the crowd.

"Alright, which one of you wise guys took my damn dogtags?"