Authors Notes:

Hiya guys! Its been a while! I'm sorry this took forever to complete! I was busy with an art trade for my friend, then I had to leave for my trip to Europe, but hey! I got it done! :D

Soooo…. I present to you, Chapter 3 of The Struggle, "Suit Up, and Move Out"

Chapter Three

Suit Up, and Move Out

Day 49, 3222

The blades of the chopper roared as they cut through the air, coming slowly to a stop as it hit the ground. The door slid open, revealing an elder coyote. "Bonjour, mes amis!" He said, stepping towards the couple, already suited in their battle armor.

"Hello, General." Bernie spoke up.

As the chopper engine died down, General D'Coolette spoke again, "Now, we must check to see if you 'ave all of your… items, and such."

Sir Charles sighed and walked back into the house, heading for his "base of operations", as his younger brother liked to call it. While Jules, Bernie, and the rest of the gang would be on the Front Lines, shooting down Overlanders, sabotaging bases, etc., he would be armed with only a computer, a simple communication system, and would be miles away from all the action. Sir Charles pushed the power button on the computer, and watched the machine come alive as he sat down in his chair, swiveling around to face his nephew, Maurice. "Well, Sonny, I guess this is it…" The toddler hastily stumbled his way over to him, only to tackle into his leg. Charles simply laughed, and picked up the smiling boy. "Well, you're grownin' fast! Heh, soon, you'll be big and strong, just like your old man." He turned to face his computer again, as the screen changed from black to blue, "Maybe," he added quietly, "a little too fast…"

Maurice intently watched the blank computer screen, completely ignoring the loud footsteps coming from the hall. The loud footfalls quickly stopped as a gruff, young man stood, leaning up against the doorway. His vest pockets filled to the brink with various weapons and safety gear. His boots were just cleaned, despite the fact they would only get dirty once again. His face wore a sad, upsetting look as he took his sunglasses off, and crossed his arms. "Well, Charlie, I… uh… guess this is… y'know, it… for now…" He didn't dare take his eyes off the ground. As much as he loved his brother, he couldn't find it in himself to watch him stay behind, even if it was for a purposeful cause.

"Wow, Jules, why are you discouraged all of a sudden?" Charles asked.

Jules shrugged, "I 'spose it that… I won't have my right hand man with me this time." This time, Jules looked up, smiling warmly at his older brother. Charles returned the smile, as little Maurice reached out of his grip for Jules. Laughing, he walked over towards the squirming child, and picked him up. "Well, little man, I guess this is it…" His voice trailed off as Bernie entered the room, watching them. Her attire was that of her husbands, a utility vest (filled with weapons and all that, like his), as well as a pair of cargo pants to keep her warm, and matching military issued boots. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes as she watched the two bond for what could be… the last time…

"Darling, we want you to know that we love and care for you." She said, walking over the child, beginning to cry. Jules turned to her, trying to comfort her.

Maurice began to squirm, reaching up towards Jules' face, "D-Daddy…"

Immediately, all heads turned to the source of the sound in disbelief. Jules blinked, finally closing his mouth, "D-Did anyone else hear that?"

Bernie started to cry even more than before, "Oh… my… Jules! Reese just said his first word! Oh my god! Oh my god!"

Jules turned to his brother, still sitting in his chair, "He didn't say nothin' while we were outside… right?" Charles simply shook his head, he was still stunned. Jules looked back down at his son, feeling excited with joy, he continued, "C'mon, boy! Say more words!" Nothing. Little Maurice wasn't going to cave in that easily. He simply smiled, and reached towards Jules again. "Well… it was great while it lasted, right?"

"Uh… I don't mean to cut in on zis, but… we 'ave to go, like, now." General D'Coolette stood in the doorway, slightly irritated.

As Bernie showered the young child with kisses, Jules looked up, "We'll be right out. I promise."

Still annoyed, the General replied back in French, "Dépêchez-vous." Hurry up. In a haste, he left. Jules sighed, realizing it was time. Bernie finally stopped smothering her son in kisses, she stepped back, beginning to cry again. Jules looked into his son's bright, emerald eyes with sadness.

"Reese," He began. He really didn't know what to say, so he let his mind babble on. It seemed to be working for the most part, "I don't know when we'll be back…" He stopped himself from adding the next part, about if they'd come back, so he skipped ahead, "But when we do, I promise you, this Hell will be gone. You'll be able to live freely, without a single worry in the world." He paused, and looked down at Maurice, who seemed to be listening intently to him. "We're doing this, for you… and your generation." He set Maurice back down on the ground. The young boy wobbled on his feet, but didn't fall. Jules and Bernie started to head for the door. Jules stopped and turned around as Bernie continued on, "Someday… we'll all be back together. One big happy family… Someday…" And with that, he talked down the hall, following his wife out towards the helicopter.

Someday.

No one could predict how long it'd be until "someday". Maybe a few weeks, or months. Hell, maybe a couple years. No one knew. What no one would have guessed was that "someday" would have been over a 14 year long wait…

The helicopter ride was silent. Everyone knew it was the toughest battle yet. They all had the same blank, upset expression printed on their faces. They'd be lucky as hell to make it out alive…

Finally, a fox sitting across from Bernie spoke up, breaking the silence, "Soooo… new parents, eh?" He wore a red and blue military uniform, just like the General's. Obvious proof that he was a solider from the Royal Army. His face was kind, but… different. He only had one eye, for the other was covered with an eye patch.

Jules looked up at the man, trying to hide his stare on the patch, "Yeah… we are… kinda."

"Kinda?" His voice was rough and hoarse, in contradiction to his looks.

"Well, our son, Maurice, is about one and a half." Bernie answered, still crying lightly.

Jules chuckled, and added, "Well, I say he's two. Its close enough." The fox simply nodded, and looked away. Jules, not wanting to slip back into the silence, continued the conversation, "You got any kids?"

The fox brought his attention back to Jules, "Kids? No." He said, shaking his head, "I think my wife keeps hinting towards wanting one, but… I'll say no. Especially not now." He looked back up towards the two, "Oh, not that there's anything wrong with having—! "

Bernie and Jules laughed, until she spoke up, "No, no. Its fine. Besides, your right. Now's not a good time, actually." Her face grew serious again.

Deciding to change the subject, the fox extended his hand out, "My name's Amadeus."

Jules smiled and took the man's hand, "I'm Jules, and this is my beautiful wife, Bernadette."

"Please, call me Bernie," She said, blushing at Jules' comment.

The man next to Amadeus grunted and moved forward in his chair, extending his hand as well, "Well, since we're all introducing ourselves, I'm Sherman!"

Bernie shook his hand first, beating Jules to it, "Nice to meet you!"

The silence threatened to come back. Making a risking move, Jules asked, "So, Amadeus, If you don't mind me askin', uh… w-what happened to your…?" He stumbled, pointing to his eye.

"Oh… that," Amadeus said slowly, "well, about a year ago, D'Coolette sent us to Mobotropolis to stop the siege of Overlanders, right? Well, their leader, Colin Kintobor, managed to catch me off guard, and shot me, right in the eye…" He looked down towards the floor in disgrace. Everyone was quiet. No one had the heart to speak after hearing such a terrible tragedy. Amadeus began again, "Those Overlanders are some of the craftiest bastards I've ever seen," Everyone looked up at him, trying to understand his words. "They'll do anything, and I seriously mean anything to win this war. They're masters at screwing with your mind. They're catch you when you least expect it. If that happens, you're pretty much done for…"

Jules ran a hand though his quills awkwardly. Bernie's face showed an expression of uneasiness. She no longer wanted any part of this. She longed to hop out of the plane, and go home to her son. She thought Jules might have felt the same way. Suddenly, static rang from everyone earpieces. A cracked voice tried to communicate to the four solders, "Team, this is…. Sir Charles, your… fifth man. I'm sorry that I… couldn't be here… with you all today. I'm…. busy taking care of… my nephew," Jules and Bernie couldn't help but smile slightly at that statement. As the communication reception got better, Charles continued to speak, "Anyway, with me staying behind, I'll be able to supply you all with addition information that can help aid you on your missions."

Sherman pressed the button on his earpiece, "Thank you very much, Sir Charles!"

"My pleasure," his voice crackled back, "Now, to make sure I have everyone here, I'll have to do roll call. You'll have to do this as professional as possible. Alright, Jules?

"Right here bro!" He said cheerfully.

"…Good enough. Bernie?"

"I'm here, Charles." She replied, her voice not as cheerful as Jules', but still a bit uplifting.

"Good. Amadeus?"

"Amadeus Prowler here." He said indifferently.

"Alright, and… oh! Sherman? You there?"

"Sherman Walrus, present, Sir!" He said, with false authority.

"Alright, good," Charles said happily, "Very one's here. Someone be sure to alert me when you land, and where exactly you'll be landing at. I'll pull up a map, and I'll let you know where to go from there. Charles, out."

A small sense of relief fell upon the team. Someone back home was watching after them, protecting them from the unseen. Sounds weird, but it was true. Bernie looked out the window, and saw a collection of small towers and tents set up. The Home Base. General D'Coolette turned around in the passenger seat towards the team behind him. Trying to speak over the sound of the helicopter, he yelled, "We 'ave arrived at zee base. We'll be landing in a few minutes. Gather all your things, and meet up in zee stationed tent."

Once the helicopter landed, everyone hustled, trying to lug all they equipment to the tent. Jules picked his stuff up, and looked at his surroundings. The place was an empty, desolate desert. Granted it wasn't too hot, considering it was evening, but the sunset gave the scene a very dark, and disturbing setting. Normally, Jules wouldn't have any problem with this. Hell, normally, he'd be ready to go kill some Overlanders the moment he stepped off the 'copter. But today… today was different. He was no longer fighting for himself, or his brother, or his wife. No, he now fights for only one being on this planet… his son.

"Jules!" The General's voice rang, grabbing his attention.

"I-I'll be right there, Sir!" HE took one last look

at the dark scenery, before heading towards the tent, to receive his first mission in over two years.

"Look, it's very important that you two assholes make sure that no one, and I mean no one at all makes it up, or in, this tower, got it? Charlemagne's orders." A tall, well-built man yelled. His face contorted in anger.

The two men before him simply saluted, "Yes, sir!" And with that, he left.

The men held they're post until the man was out of sight. It was then, that the younger of the two started laughing, "Oh my God, that man's a freakin' riot! I swear! 'You two assholes! Arruuggghh!'" He said, mocking the angry man.

The older one simply chuckled, before reaching for a beer, "Yes. He very funny." His Russian accent was incredibly thick.

"Ah, come on, Boris, you're too serious." He said, picking up his laser rifle, "Yo, hand me a beer."

"You never change," Boris said indifferently, throwing a fresh, chilled can at his accomplice.

"C'mon, dude! You gotta get pumped! Ready to freakin' kill some furries, or what?" The young man asked excitedly.

Boris got up, and walked over the ledge, where the ladder was, and aimed downwards. "I can't wait to fire laser though furry skull." He said without inflection, before laughing darkly.

In all honestly, Boris was a skilled Overlander marksman. He could use a standard scope, and always hit the target. Never did he miss. Tonight, he and his accomplice were given the task of protecting the tower where the famous Mobian Historian, Kirby, was held hostage. With Boris on the watch, no one, would be getting in. No one would be getting out.

Boris. A name honored by the Overlanders. A name feared by the Mobians. A name that would ultimately change this war forever…