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There was a good momentum, the plan had not only worked, it had worked flawlessly to smash the Feds thin line of troops. At the same time, it was becoming apparent their troops lacked any contingency; now it was less a coherent force and like before scant clusters of insurgents.

In one way it was good, the smaller enemy units became much easier to crush in direct combat, but again annoying slips came as enemies fell into the CSS lines and got into tricky positions.

“Watch it!” Cu shouted as a volley of fire rained down from an upper window.

Roland was quick to suppress, crumbling parts of the window and surrounding wall as the gunman pulled away.

A group of soldiers started to breaching the building, though the lull in fire suggested the attackers were already on the run.

To their credit though this was no unorganized route, and the troops who seemed to see it as such, where met with an end for their over – confidence. Still, they moved forward. Opposition present but incapable of slowing them down.

“I see it!” A solider called with a mix tone of battle field clarity and yet a sound of levity; the coms facility could be seen just between a couple of buildings.

They were oh so close now.

The soldiers continued their push, victory seeming so assured…

##################

“Fucking hell”

Alex had been a professional most of his life, but this was the one thing to break his back. Admittedly and in some small way he found the sight awe inspiring. This almost screen like formation of little Federal ships none of them the type to meet his battleship alone though in this kind of mass he would have had to make real tactical considerations…

But that was not where his attention fell. Alex could only stare to the smashed body of the Corvette. She’d been completely ruptured on impact with the ship exiting from jump space, that ship in question…

Leon Class battleship… Admittedly the model appeared to be an older design, the placement of her main plasmas casters off to mounts on “wings” that extended off her sides near to the centre and to make up for the lower number of energy weapons three double - barrelled 14 – inch guns lined across her bow… The most noticeable detail was the faded corporate colour and boldly written name, Theta – Mining – Polytechnic… Someone had to have pulled favours.

“We’re going to have issues” Alex could not escape that fact, his battleship alone would struggle against so many miniature ships but the added danger of a flagship … Hell, even if that had been the only ship entering the system Alex would have been given a momentary pause… He was now wishing Illock or Insig were still here.

“Send a broadcast back to third fleet, we’ll need support to -”

“Long – range coms are jammed!” an officer shouted, with an tone of fear.

Of course they would, Alex could feel a mounting pressure now, he needed to get a ship back to third fleet.

Alex stopped thinking as his head turned to face a sight that put his forming plans in ruin…

Gavin’s battleship making a hard to starboard.

##################

Rounds continued to rattled against the building, the whole place seemed to shake under the fire while the lepus stayed close to the ground. Someone was screaming from a room he not long been looking into.

Jones had jumped back, hitting the floor in the corridor before he took a full assessment now just waiting for some will in his body to get him going. It was in that moment of lying to the ground he heard the steps behind him, the slow steps and the quiet whisper of incantations.

Jones look up his bunny ears standing up high as he looked to the Borzoi. The dog seemed to stand with no fear to what was happening around him.

The Borzoi then looked to the rabbit, pausing his prayers as he smiled. “That’s not the place to be my friend” he stretched out an arm waiting for the rabbit to reach and after a short moment Jones took the hand before being pulled up.

“Your journey does not stop here”

The dog gave a calm smile, patting Jones on the shoulder before turning back around and continuing on his way as the small string of prayers came back.

??? ??? ??? ??? ??? ???? ???? ????

Jones began to pull away, this place was no longer safe and without much of plan to fall back on it was always best just to stay alive. Live, regroup and fight on.

He moved towards one of the windows, an old fire escape leading down to a back alley; he worked his way down the rickety metal away from the sound of direct battle, moving down the alley and to another open street.

A running pick up seemed to stand out quite obliviously, though from this area they had a buffer before fearing enemy contact; the near consistent sound of battle however did not provide comfort, being more a reminder time was running low.

A small group of militias worked to load spare weapons and gear; anything left behind now ran a risk of being captured and destroyed. Some of the wounded were also allowed on, though only those who needed it and could bare the trip in a bumpy truck.

Those who could walk were being prepped to make a return to a safer location.

Those in the worst condition had been made as comfortable as possible, clear markings place in some hope the enemy might show a small mercy.

WOUNDED INSIDE

A large Red Cross with a Black circle was marked on the wall, sixteen marked in the corner… Maybe not a universal symbol but it seemed clear enough.

The debate of leaving an attendant seemed to be argued as Jones closed in; clearly not a postion anyone wanted to take, capture by the CSS at this point would likely be imprisonment, a terrorism or insurgency charge and the choice between life in prison or execution.

A human stopped him, one of the officers, though he were only a co – worker months ago.

“What you doing Ron?” Jones asked as the human blocked his path. He seemed to hold this flat expression, a seemingly calm acceptance to the unfolding events.

“I need you to help at the coms centre, folks their getting hit hard” Ron said, clear and matter of fact.

“Yeah” Jones followed “that place is a lost cause we’re not holding it; we don’t have the numbers”

Ron nodded his head to Jones’ argument, before clarifying, “I know that, but what I need is someone to help take the pressure off while they pull back; we’re losing it, but that doesn’t mean we don’t make them pay for it”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Well, you said you were a good shot, right?”

##################

“Where the fuck is he going!” Alex lost all composure in that moment giving an enraged shout as he gestured to Gavin’s retreating Battleship.

This fight was already difficult, especially with no easy way to get in contact with the reserves but if they lost a battleship now…

“Send a hail over, NOW!” Alex twisted to his staff, his tone not changing.

Already on edge they had no delay in responding to orders.

“The captain is bl -” the crewman never even finished.

“Emergency override; fucking twat!”

Alex quickly turned to the communication display, marching over as they finally broke through.

Even with interference crackle on the screen Alex could still make out Gavin’s utter terror; he knew the danger, though rather than following the protocol he seemed to go on pure gut reaction. His fox like tail wrapped around him in some small comforting gesture.

“What the hell are you doing? You turn around now; you’ll screw us all over!” Alex continues to shout, he could not contain his frustrations, looking at this kind of unfolding mess; were none of his crew going to stop him?

What moral had that fool bolstered!

Gavin finally turned, least having the will to look the Commander in the eyes.

“This is suicide. You have to know that too; we don't have the firepower to destroy that flag ship”

Well, that was only theoretically true, though Gavin’s retreat was about to make it a near certainty.

“There’s an entire army down there, we can’t just leave them behind!”

Gavin just shook his head, he was settled, “I’m not dying here”

Alex clinched his teeth; “You leave and a state tribunal will have you shot!”

For a moment Gavin’s face went blank, that small consideration to the fact he and his crew had to an extend agreed on desertion.

Though between the choice of a court and here?

Gavin’s expression hardened again, with one final dead – pan retort; “I’ll take my chances”

The battleship continued on its exit vector as Alex stared into the now static filled screen.

“Bastard! I’ll see him in hell”

The battleship shook, a round off the side, by the feeling a glance rather than a hit. Alex put the moment behind him, he had a bigger situation to deal with now.

“Report!” He shouted, steadying himself.

“That Leon Class is taking pot shots! Definitely not in targeting range and we got time till her plasma casters on us”

Alex nodded his head, “spin up primary and secondary MDs, synched fire! Get a missile lock plotted ASAP!”

“What of the supporting ships Commander?”

“Have our remaining corvettes screen for them; I want them in defensive postion, no fucking pulling off! And get that frigate to spinning her MD up to I want whatever firepower we can muster”.

He was in a hell of a situation now, doctrine called for at least a minimum four to five main ship class mass drivers for a flagship … At best this was two and half… He’d least make it a show.

“And prep the R – 10Ns, two warheads on hot ready for my order” He’d need them just in case…

“Sir!” Another officer called in “transports deploying off that flagship, on course planet side!”

That should have been expected, “have we got coms to ground?” Alex shouted awaiting the reply

“Still waiting on ground to get rid of that jammer”

Alex could have screamed; he did not have time for this!

“Evka!” Alex called, before a Yersin officer speeded over.

“Aye Komandir!” she met his call with a calm collected deposition.

“Take a shuttled to ground HQ, inform general Ovex he needs to order evacuation, Federal reinforcements have made holding orbit untenable”

Accepting this felt so frustrating…

The Yersin just nodded her head, “aye Komandir! But what authorisation will I give the general?”

Alex had only one response to that, one likely fuelled by anger, frustration and his racing mind;

“You tell him to look at the sky!”

##################

Roland felt her shoulder buzz with numbness after firing, the Feds seemed to continue to hold even as more and more Confederate troops came closer to the coms building.

Some troops filtered to the right, searching for a gap instead of butting head first into this wire of fire.

“Corporal you keep those fucking bastard supressed!” Cu shouted as she pointed angrily to the building, the dark windows already ridden with bullets. Though with focus Roland could still see the smallest of movement. She responded with fire, almost anticipating the order as Cu continued to watch going between her and building.

“Don’t be fucking shy, you don’t pay for the bullets SHOO!!

She did as order just spraying rounds against the building, getting at least one spray of red mist amongst the dust.

“There you fucking go!” Cu cheered.

Roland just stuck to the steps, checking her weapon, reassessing, firing again; someone had come to the window this time, a clear figure with the glint of weapon before again turning to red amongst a mix of grey and brown dust.

An explosion sounded; the troops seeming to take the view the best breach was the one you made yourself, a new flurry of soldier moved to the right, likely to bolster that entrance.

Cu followed the sight before quickly turning to Draud, “take the squad and support those infantry”.

Draud just nodded his head with, “what are you going to do?” he replied, half way ready to go.

“Me and the Corporal will move forward, keep overwatch on the front of the building, if some feds try to cut around the front will have them”

Draud just nodded his head waving a hand to get the other marines to follow him.

“Come on Corporal, we’re moving forward” Cu said and Roland hauled herself up, careful not to burn her hand on the now heated barrel.

…

Inside the building was a brutal squeeze of small corridors, dark doorways and rooms. Combat had already done away with most of the lighting. It made everything seem so slow, tight and considered steps amongst wittering voice, coughs under the hard to escape dust and from this, flurries of violence erupted.

Given the confines the troops struggled to get use of their guns, rifles not suited to corridors as men charged into one another. Swears and shouts being exchanged as in the dark men threw punches, stabbed and bludgeoned one another. Claws and teeth becoming as effective as any bit of military arm. The flash of piecemeal fire lit rooms as men fired from the hip or scuffles for guns led to panicked fire that struck friend and foe alike. The unmistakeable sound of pin and grenade thumping to the ground had all of them panic scrambling away from the sound.

A few seconds of pure silence beyond the ambience outside till, BANG!

The explosion provides some light as men were given a small change to assess their postion. Enemies realising in the animalistic desire to survive hostility for that microscopic moment had been put on hold.

A Yersin froze finding himself between two Lepus as both parties realised the danger was gone and the fighting resume.

“You commie fuck” one rabbit shouted readying her knife.

The Yersin stepping back thumbing for the hammer on his revolver; “??? ????”.

A vulpine got a hold of the second rabbit, just using claws to gore the rabbit’s throat.

Slowly the CSS was winning in this brutal duel as one by one Feds finally fled, no longer willing to give any more blood for such a lost cause. Rifle fire returned as the troops gained some distance between one another; though only a minor exchange, random shots on the way to the exit.

That had also dropped as the militia finally escaped.

The room had now gone quiet, quiet enough for the pained groans and sickly sobs of wounded and beaten men, death rattles and the gurgling of blood.

A sergeant gave a sigh of relief, “Right! Let’s find this fucking coms equipment”

No responses were given though the men moved to the order.

##################

Jones paused as he heard voices down the hall “they’re going to be right on top of us” he whispered as he turned to the veteran.

Jokas, a supposed marksman of the highest grade though at this point he had lost nearly all of his left arm…

Jokas just sneered, at first with no reply as he thought.

“Come on, up the stairs” He finally spoke, taking a few steps back before wondering upstairs as Jones followed. Now they pressed forward again the tones of enemy voices clear to hear under the floor boards.

Jokas showed no concern, “we’ll go a few more floors, need a better view” the hare took a moment to peek out of the window before stepping back.

“You sure we’re safe with them running below?” Jones questioned, though Jokas continued on his way.

“They won’t know we’re here with all this shit going on; just set up, take a few pops and we’ll scoop out via the maintenance ways”.

They went up a few more flights of stairs before moving into one of empty rooms, completely barren; even the dry wall was crumbling away.

Jokas was quick to peer from the window, quickly as not to draw too much attention.

“This is it, check the rifle but don’t fucking post it on the window”

On that Jokas stepped out of the room leaving Jones to layout the rifle.

It was a beastly looking thing, bolt system with these drinks can sized rounds. Jones damned himself for not being able to gauge the calibre on sight. He quickly flicked a round from the magazine checking; 20mm.

“No wonder, heavy piece of trash” the mag only held about four rounds not counting the one already sitting down the barrel.

Jokas came back, sliding a table across the ground making a hell of a racket as he brought it towards the window.

“Making enough of a noise you old coot” Jones commented, while the hare seemed more concerned on the placement of the thin wooden table.

“No one’s going to care about shitty sounds like this; for God shakes a bloody war’s going outside… Post up”

Jones lugged the large rifle up and placed it down carefully, hoping beyond hope the weight of the thing would not bring the table down. It held.

“You used one of these things before?” Jokas asked as he watched Jones operate the rifle, analysing every small movement and prep.

“Used a M1 marksman model before” he looked through the scope, close enough; maybe even a little better.

“Better than nought” Jokas mumbled “Just keep in mind she’s going to kick a hell of lot harder and be sure to stay on target, those rounds don’t come cheap”

“Not really many to waste -” Jones want to continue but Jokas butted in;

“Surgical strikes son, you waste one of those on some nobody and I’ll kill you myself”

Jones had a good understand of what was being requested as he brought the rifle up to his shoulder, fully aquatinting himself with the scope.

“Now you want to aim it centre mass, those rounds are meant to do the hard work-”

Jones continued panning, he was given a good field of view as he skirted the rifle left to right

“I know what am doing” Jones replied… Likely banking on that standard rifle training, and a small bit of young arrogance.

Jokas just snickered, “sure kid, just be careful on the trigger and brace it well; least one of us need two arms”

Yes… There was one, “Got one, LMG” he spoke out loud maybe looking for the older hare to give some confirmation.

“Aye I see… Well go on sniper; you got the shot? Take it”

…

Just take a breath… Hold… Squeeze.

##################

“So… Can I have a report please; standardised format, A4, font size 12… You really should know this all by now”

Verna could have died when the black dressed state inspector had entered her office. It had finally put into perspective how much she become lost in the minutiae. She almost failed to the realise the man presences as she appeared almost hidden in the tower of printed reports and letters both opened and un opened. Even a trail of wires added complexity after she requested a second monitor be squeezed onto her desk to give her just that tiny bit of extra room to try and work an extra set of digital correspondences and imagery…

“I’m sorry sir, I was in the process of making a report for the party – I – I was just about to -”

“Just about?” the inspector replied, he had never been aggressive, but he had a very firm way of speaking, condescending and seeming to work of the postion every word already been spoken was likely a lie of some sort. “Admiral you are three days behind your mandated statues notice… You should be glad the Grand Kaiser spoke reason to your situation the party was just about ready to mobiles half of F2 to come save you”

She had no good excuse for that, well there was reasons but not ones that would reflect good upon her now, “things have been complex” she damned herself for saying that, the inspector’s expression never changing apart from the slow nod of confirmation he heard and understood.

“Yes, operations are complex… A surprising detail… I hope that is not your report… If so, I’ll just take it on a scrap when I return to the administrator; there is plenty of scrap paper to write on”

“N – No… I was just”

“Just… Making the report” the inspector looked to his watch “I’ll give you two hours, make it good”

…

The inspector turned and walked out, leaving the vixen in the silence of her office.

A terminal beeped and beeped again like a bastardised tune as a new set of information was thrown at her contradicting what was already likely up and being assessed turning the last seven hours of theorising into useless wasted time…

She couldn’t stop herself from throwing over one of the piles of paper, what did it matter, it likely meant nothing by this point…

She finally sat in her chair, tacking a moment to put her head into her hands, screaming for a short moment… just to let free the strain in her head.

’Take the Admiralty post dear; it will set you for life… What a life it was!’

Where was she at… So much; radar activity had been, as it always was a mess… Too much Federal traffic with no ability to denote military from civilian and even then, it was not the important thing… What was important was to know if anyone had come into contact with her forces…

Reports had least told her had that was the case… Civil traffic had arrived at Jolpin once while the left and right flank had their own reports of minor scouts; nothing to worry given that it was expectation for scout to peek on CSS lands, what matters is if it developed.

But now, it was dead since then… Though was it for lack of activity? Or complacent Commanders not reporting back to her.

Verna could not escape some anxiety of a Federal attack, Joplin was a small fry mining base, if it was a part of some corporate group, she could have expected something… Yet either side had least one things of far more importance to the CSS, a fuel mining and processing facility, while the right held a belt of resource rich asteroids.

The FFP had more to gain in some attack, take from the CSS in a situation where it once again was wasting resource trying to take a trophy… Her mind set laid there any time now the FFP would come, attacking either at the left or the right, but Joplin?

Why would they come for that?

She looked back to her terminal, checking her incoming noticed… Nothing, all sectors reporting blank...

Why did it not give her comfort, she closed the fleet reporting system, returning to a word doc that had remained open for week, yet only the first line seemed to look back at her.

Directed to the C.A.B.

From III Fleet, Reporting Admiral Verna Noel

##################

The shuttle near crashed land with the speed at which it made landfall.

Evka wanted to be sure the news could be delivered as soon as possible, though clambering out to look upon documented HQ sight the place was a ghost town.

Some soldier still malingered, medical staff, medics, the wounded and likely those banking on the lack of given orders for their presence here. The transport craft remained in place, three large things for movement of men and equipment…

“That’s not enough” Evka couldn’t help but speak as she walked from the shuttled searching for any soldier of some level of seniority.

She spotted crewed field guns and made her way over, waving frantic arms to get some attention, hoping they’d meet her half way… High hopes…

“You’re a sailor?” An Arctic question, least making a short journey away from the pit curious to the out of place uniform.

Evka firstly had to catch her breath.

“Why are you down here?” a second Arctic came forward rubbing at his artificial jaw thinking the scenarios over.

Evka without the time, just pushed for the most pressing question, “WHERE is the General?”

The Lupines look between each other and then back to the rat after a moment of consideration, “he moved to the front to guide operations, why do you-”

The wolf couldn’t get the question out, the rats now frantic voice followed with another question, “WHERE ON THE FRONT!?” She stood up straight

The second Lupin respond, taking her attention off his friend, “should be an earthworks HQ, you shouldn’t miss it… What is happening?”

She thought for a moment, the front was nearly and hour or two away from here, “I need a vehicle, now!” She continued with her concerned tone and this time the Lupines asked no further questions, just pointing to a small scout car not far from the pits.

“You could ask the gunnery-”

Again, they were not given the chance to finish the rat sprinting over to the small car.

If they had the chance they would have let her know the gunnery officer was resting inside, though she had no problem negotiating with him.

The half-dressed fox fell from the driver’s side door, still luckily in his field trousers and vest while the scout car sped away leaving both the officer and the gun crews in a state of confusion…