The War Chapter 5: Intermission
[Hey fans! For those who haven't heard from me in awhile, here is a filler chapter! Sorry for the lackluster love scene, but thats me for you :V]
Upon the Correlation Task Force's arrival at the rendezvous, Admiral Sly immediately ordered a meeting with the Naval Council as well as one particular individual. Chief General Valestro was NOT pleased at having been pulled away from his newly born daughter. His patience with the Admiral was already wearing thin, and he had best not waste time for this 'important' meeting. Upon entering the Goliath's command room, Valestro made his way past the saluting lesser officers and took his seat.
Admiral Sly was on time, as usual, approaching the front of the room as the lights dimmed. "Gentlemen," the fox began, clasping his hands behind his back, "It's good to see you all in one piece after our latest defeat." His flat line tone made all of the lesser officers nervous; it was better when the infamous Admiral spoke with emotion, it was much easier to avoid making him angry that way. In this state, they were all unsure if he was furious or merely in no emotional state.
"And what exactly caused our defeat gentlemen? Hmm?" The fox asked, looking through the crowd of officers. One lone Lieutenant stood out, raising his hand slowly. The Admiral grinned, "Yes?" The younger fox gulped and stood from his seat. Surprisingly, his voice was strong, yet his words were rushed. "Sir! Our Naval forces were defeated by Imperial Forces. Based on the sabotage inducted by a group of Brigadier Imperial commandos, Sir!" His faced paled; obviously the younger officer was expected to be killed for being so blunt.
"Very good," was what the lieutenant received. The young fox sat in his seat, looking as if he had a brush with death. Valestro chuckled, finding the officer brave and his actions amusing. The Admiral had an ensign activate the projector, and a slide appeared upon the screen. It was a picture of several Imperial soldiers standing triumphantly on top of a fallen Correlation standard. Valestro remembered the location based on the background; this picture was taken at the Imperial City of Mastus, obviously not too long after its Correlation occupiers were driven out.
"Here gentlemen, is the biggest thorn in our side, out of all the Brigadier Empire's forces." The slide switched, this time displaying a code of arms, decorated with a helm and crossed axes. "The Brigadier Empire's special forces division has caused the most extensive damage against Correlation forces wherever they are assigned. It is even speculated they were a large contributor to the effort of driving us out of their mainland."
The Admiral paused, having begun to rant his recent frustrations. He regained control, and continued. "At the forefront of this, is the 1rst Brigadier Imperial Army Division, the 27th Marine Paratrooper Division, the 253rd Armored Calvary, and finally, 5th Special Forces Division of the Imperial Army." Valestro was more than aware of each of these divisions; they were his mortal enemy in this 'war'. "Our intelligence agents have pinpointed the next Imperial conquest. And this one fight shall be without doubt their greatest push." The slide changed once more, this time to a map, and the Admiral placed his finger in the dead center of the Correlation territory; Paku Atol.
There were whispers around the table. Several of the fresh officers looked ill, the veterans curious and worried; Paku Atol, out of all the large islands that made up the Correlation territory, was the most important. From Paku Atol, the Imperial forces could attack any surrounding island with ease right before marching straight into the heart of the Correlation. Admiral Sly turned toward the group, and silence descended once more.
"The special forces divisions of the Brigadier Empire will be at the forefront of this assault, making this the prime moment for their utter destruction. They are the stuff of legend throughout the ranks of the Brigadier Imperial forces. If they are eliminated, morale will be shattered, thus saving Paku Atol and paving a fresh way for the Correlation." The Admiral fixed an eye upon Valestro, and continued. "General. I need two things from you if this is to succeed. The first shall require your approval, the second I will require your support." Valestro raised an eyebrow, curious to where this was going. Sure enough, Sly would request troops for the defense of Paku Atol, but what else would he need?
The slides changed once more, the image causing Valestro to grasp the table with contained fury. A gargantuan cannon was displayed; so massive in size it would require miles of secure platform merely to fire. "This gentlemen, is information that is not to leave this room, under the consequence of death." The Admiral stated firmly. "I present to you, the Argos Cannon. A weapon that has been in the making for years, even before our conflict with the Brigadier Imperial Forces began." The Admiral clenched a fist, speaking with vigor and passion. "Its firepower is unmatched and is exactly what we need to destroy our enemy."
Another lesser officer raised a paw, thus the admiral called upon him to speak. "Sir. If this weapon is so awesome, why have we not used it earlier to eliminate the Brigadier Empire?" There was a chorus of voices following, silenced as Valestro spoke up. "The mere time spent to create a single shell for the Argos cannon is vast. The range itself has not been calculated to reach much farther than the recently taken Molan Island. Thus, it is impossible to strike at the Imperial Capitol."
Sly would only chuckle, "But now, it is operational." Placing both paws upon that table, facing Valestro entirely, "Combined with the Special Activities Division land forces, we can stop the Brigadier bastards in their steps, but first, all I need is your approval, Chief General." The Admiral choose to use Valestro's formal title, rather than the regular 'General' only as a reminder to both the drake and the subordinates of what power was in play.
Valestro grumbled, rubbing his chin. He had a daughter to take care of back home. Considering Sly's proposal, this was a very temping offer indeed. However, the weapon itself was something to take into consideration, its power, could it be too great to bear? After minutes of deliberation, the tension floating in the air, Chief General Hamis Valestro made his decision.
As the damaged and battered fleet of the Brigadier Empire's Special Forces lumbered back into friendly waters, it didn't take long to be greeted by a homely sight. A crescent island came into view, the southern side of the island towering high and covered in beautiful pine forests. The mere aroma of a Brigadier Empire tree sent shivers up Captain Janks' spine. 'What a scent indeed' he thought to himself as the Kingship made her way across the eastern coast. The remaining ships were greeted with thunderous applause and cheers, a wave of green, dust red and steel blue having formed to greet the coming heroes upon the docks.
The garrisoned members of the 5th, 27th, and 523rd had all assembled to greet their brothers and sister as the vessels docked, offering praise and happiness alike. Lovers, family members, and friends found comfort in the arms of one another in time. Silence ascended upon them all, the caskets of the fallen making their way down the docks, the soldiers respectfully clearing out of the way, their heads bowed in silence.
Upon the departure of the dead, the soldiers went about meeting one another and going about their previous work. Conrad left the Calypso, making his way through the tide of green soldiers as they departed from the Kingship. He was eager to find Mal and pick up from their conversation before it was rudely interrupted by the Correlation bombers. Upon arriving at his bunk room, Conrad found it empty. The tiger figured that Mal might be wounded, and thus went to find the head medic. Conrad found Medical Chief of Staff Konroy, 5th Division, working the morgue papers upon the deck, who was not pleased at being disturbed from his work.
"What do you want?" Came the snarling reply from the bad tempered jackal.
"I'm looking for someone Sir." Was Conrad's respectful reply, "Human, Sergeant Mal Genira?"
The medic only raised his hand to point in the direction of where the caskets were carried. Conrad felt the air leave him, surpised and afraid. He ran towards the direction, a small group of massed 5th soldiers around a small wall of crates. Conrad hurried in their direction, relief flooding to his ears when he heard the familiar voice.
"And I tell ya. That tiger was never foolish to poke his head into the ladies room of the Officer's quarters again. Lieutenant Daga handed him his ass."
The chorus of laughter brought a blush to Conrad's cheeks, recalling that particular moment in his military career. He pushed through enough soldiers that eventually he came face to face with Sergeant Major Mal Genira, large tendrils of bandages wrapping around his back and torso, a silly grin on the human's face. "Speak of the devil! Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Conrad!" The group cheered, and Conrad grinned, the applause more than welcome and he only wondered how they would react. He lashed out with a punch, knocking the human over the crate he was sitting on, onto the floor with a thud. The surprised crowd gasped, but Mal only laughed, wincing as he stood up.
"You always did have a good punch, and I never did say I wouldn't tell that story," Mal explained, rubbing his sore chin.
"Bah, it isn't that you stupid man!" Conrad explained, gathering his life long friend in his arms tenderly. Mal raised an eyebrow at his friend, "And I thought Konroy had me juiced up on meds. You alright pal?" Conrad pulled away from the hug, chuckling. "Its nothing now man. Nothing now." Looking over his shoulder at the curious crowd, "Oye. You want us to stat kissing next? Off with ya!" The crowd scattered in laughter, and Conrad helped his friend to lean against the wall of crates.
"Gods man. What happened to you?" The tiger asked, looking up and down his friend's back.
"Well," Mal began, "To put it short. I had a rather nasty incident involving a helicopter. There was a jump, I missed, but clung to the underbelly of the best." He rubbed his sore left arm, all too remembering how he was dragged against the flight deck of the Correlation ship. "The ride scraped my back dry of skin, really took a toll. Good news is, I'll be up and at it soon enough."
Conrad would only chuckle, patting his friend on the shoulder, indicating in the direction of the main base. "Let's get off and at it then." The base of the Brigadier Imperial Forces was second to only the Tactical Command of the Imperial Legions stationed in the capitol. Numerous bunkers littered the massive forest that was the landscape of the island. Instead of tearing down the trees and removing the land formations, the Special Forces Division commissioned the construction of the buildings alongside the land formations. Not only beautiful, but functional as a defensive measure; but what stood out from all of the buildings, all of the formations, was the Central Command Building. It towered above all, having been built into the face of the mountain, and considering it contained the entire command staff of all the Special Forces.
It was a beautiful sight, without doubt. Mal had been told that the Imperial city's own architecture mirrored that of the Central Command building. He hoped that when this war was over, he would take Dianna to the city and continue his life normally. Instead, other things were on his mind, particularly stopping by and saying hello to an old friend. On approaching the recruitment tents, Mal and Conrad were greeted with a familiar, gruff, but loving voice.
"Alright you louts! Up, down, up down, keep it up!" Staff Sergeant Marian Gunella was without doubt the toughest Staff Sergeant in the Brigadier Imperial's service. Her soul of lead, a heart of gold, Mal had the benefit of calling her his step mother. Of course, that didn't get him out of the training exercises she brutally trained into the other recruits. The old bovine was standing over a terrified feline, whose push ups were less than acceptable in the eyes of the staff sergeant.
"Oye! You call that a push up?! You are more than half my age and I can do better!" Mal crossed his arms, chuckling. Conrad merely grinned as Marian shot up from crouching over, eying the human with a smile that could melt butter. Quickly, the Staff Sergeant regained control, "Alright! You lot, take five!" The recruits gave a collective sigh of relief, toppling into the dirt or rolling onto their backs to rest. Marian merely approached the two, and gathered Mal in warm hug. She smiled, "Mal... glad to have you back." Mal couldn't help but smile in return, "It's good to be back Marian, and in one piece." Turning to Conrad, Marian would grunt, "I see you still drag around that miserable mop of a Marine, eh?" The old cow winked playfully, and Conrad couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh, of course! I need something to clean my helmet, don't I?"
High General Valestro rubbed his temples tenderly. Sitting alone in his office, having returned to the Correlation mainland only hours before, he was still pondering if he had made the right choice. Sure enough, sending SAD soldiers to back up the effort was acceptable, but using the super weapon now? Did Admiral Sly entirely forget what that weapon's specific purpose was in the first place? Valestro had no idea what went on inside that fox's skull. Either insanity or a fierce determination drove Sly to lengths that Valestro himself couldn't fathom.
Reaching over and patting the hilt of his rank blade tenderly, he sighed gently. What would they say? How would this ever be accepted by the council? The worst bit, Valestro consciously sealed the fate of thousands. His only hope was that he would eventually be forgiven, or at least be properly damned for his crime.
"So, you are Sergeant Major Mal Genira now, are you hon?" Marian inquired, an eyebrow raised in her adopted son's direction. Mal would pat the newly sewn patch on his trench coat, grinning. "You bet. Mean's you might have to address me as 'sir' from now on mom."
Marian found this very amusing indeed. Giving off a mock salute, "Sir, Permission to tell you mission critical information, sir." Mal nodded, beaming. "Go ahead Staff Sergeant." "Civilian Dianna Articus is waiting for you in your quarters, sir."
At the mere mention of his lover's name, Mal was already off like a bullet. Marian chuckled, and turned to face Conrad. "Well, what about you? Hit it off with any girls of late?"
Mal's mood was lifted even to greater heights. Running through the busy soldiers of the 253rd Armor, Mal was taking his customary short cut to the living quarters. He received several waves from familiar faces, each one returned with a smile and a wave. Finally, oh so sweetly finally, Mal came to the 5th Division's living quarters.
Mal rushed down the corridors, pausing at his private bunk room. Clearing his throat, patting his uniform and realigning his patrol hat, Mal opened the door to slowly enter. The room was dark, so naturally Mal reached to flip the switch. The very moment he did so, Mal felt his heart flutter and knees grow weak at a very welcoming picture indeed. Sitting on his bunk was a dragoness in a very suggestive office uniform. Lovely stockings, the top unbuttoned, and a musical voice announcing, "Hello Mal."
Mal rushed forward, gathering Dianna in a warm embrace. He wrapped around Dianna, holding her close. She murred gently, her hands rubbing up and down her human's back.
"Oh Dianna," Mal finally managed to say, "I've missed you so, so much." Dianna merely, ran her tongue up her lover's neck, her voice an intimate rasp. "I have missed you too my big bad soldier. I've been quiet lonely while you've been gone." The words sealed the deal, and Mal pulled back, smiling up at the beautiful face before him.
"Well, how about I fix that then, eh hon?"
McKor hunched over, running a hand across the beard he was trying to brood into full growth. Standing at six feet in height, a rather thick and strong body build, along with the fearsome eye patch to boot, the general was more than intimidating as far as humans went. Now, after a long time of rest in his personal chambers, McKor was pondering about the next attack. Paku Atol was a tough nut to crack, at least according to the latest in captured Correlation intelligence. One of the infamous medieval castles belonging to the Correlation's predecessors had been transformed into an impenetrable command post, allowing ultimate control over the entire island. Located right in the middle of the Atol, surrounded by thousands of Correlation troops and equipment, taking the castle would be impossible in the first assault.
The human's mind also dwelt on another matter entirely. The new initiates and their 'test' would be the first stage of this operation. They'd had the key piece in this operation, and if they failed, then the assault would as well. McKor merely shook his head, his mood grim. He was more than confident in the skills of the soldiers, but this was indeed a daunting task, even for the best. Or, the general reminded himself, the prodigal. He sat down into the comfortable arm chair in his office, seated right in the Militant Wing of the Brigadier Empire's capitol. Around him were trophies of conflicts long ago, collected by generals of equal prestige that had managed to crawl tooth and nail to earn such recognition, completed with a beautiful wall of windows granting McKor a view of the vast city, Valhalla.
With a sigh, McKor pulled the ivory pipe from its place in the cabinet, and lit the tobacco. Taking a puff, he walked to his usual thinking spot, and looked into the city below him. If this battle would be pulled off just right, then this war would end. The Correlation would be wide open for the finishing blow... no. McKor told himself; if the war ended, then there would be no need for the Council of the Emperor. The general shook his head, remembering himself of the immense political turmoil now taking place in the very building he stood in. The humans were demanding their fair share of the cut, the Emperor wanting to withhold the old traditions of the Empire, and the Council fooling the masses at every turn to maintain their power.
It was a mess. McKor took another puff, grabbing his chair once more. A knock on the door gathered his attention, a smile soon following when the rather lovely form of a familiar rabbit came into view. "Mr. McKor, two officers of the Brigadier Empire to see you." Came the sing song voice of McKor's secretary.
"Send them in Mary," came McKor's ever polite reply.
Colonel Ramsey and the recently promoted 'Colonel' Janks entered the room. Janks, as usual was serious, but his recent promotion had him in a good mood. Ramsey was as equally serious, but the news of his opponent's promotion was less than gratifying. McKor found the two friend's competitive nature as commanders interesting, as it never seemed to be an obsession but a motivation to strive and improve. The general admired such tenacity.
"Gentlemen, come, grab a seat." McKor pointed to the seats in front of his desk, which were soon filled by two weary officers.
"General Sir, always a pleasure." Came the customary greeting from the rough voiced Janks.
"General." The short and simple greeting with a nod from Ramsey.
"Paku Atol, the final stage." McKor quoted the phrase constantly spoken around the operations center beneath the Imperial Citadel, where every single tech weenie would be wetting themselves over the prospect of ending the war.
Janks nodded solemnly. "Indeed. I certainly look forward to giving the Correlation a taste of Kingsbruck, then finishing the blasted war once and for all."
Ramsey too nodded, "And once we have peace, we can really think about important matters."
McKor tuned an eye to the door, making sure that it was safe to address such talk. "I don't like it. Our generous neighbors to the east have been rather quiet and 'neutral' during these long years." Aseria had taken a different stance on the war, aligning with neither Brigadier Empire nor Correlation forces. Of course, the Emperor's Council took note of such silence, wondering what the intentions of the third power truly were.
McKor's true concern was that of country, friendship, and the Order. The Emperor of the Brigadier Empire was a drying creature, his family long extinguished by misfortune, his only concern for preservation of state. McKor respected and loved the Emperor for that. The Emperor's Council, on the other hand, deserved an attention entirely opposite.
"That is why we should tread carefully in this invasion plan," Janks reminded his comrades. "Recent intelligence gathered by a shock team of Imperial commandos show how close the Correlation is to perfecting the cannon. And....." The colonel's voice lowered to a mere whisper, "The north is acting up again, and there is unrest among some in the Order."
McKor merely shook his head, taking yet another puff of the pipe. "It's a bad omen." Was the general said, frowning to both of his closest friends with a cold demeanor, "So be it."
Lying up against Dianna, Mal closed his eyes, smiling to himself. He had cheated death yet again, once more granted the permission to be with the ones he loved most. Kissing his lover gently on the muzzle, descending into sleep, the young soldier could not help but think 'Nothing can go wrong this evening.'