Well, here we are again. Like I promised, this chapter and probably the one after it will focus on Tellanian forces while Josh and the fleet makes the transit to Tellanos. So then, here we go.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OR ANYONE IN THE SPYRO UNIVERSE. ONLY MY OCS.

Chapter 47: Sewers, Factories, No Retreat.

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Day 87

12 Floodrain, 1933

1030 hours

Record of Staff Sergeant Vasili Alexandr

Federal 8th Volunteer Corps/ Federal 11th Army

It's been 87 days since the siege began, double, almost triple that time that the capital fell. During that time I've seen comrades die. People I came to call friends. I've seen more war, more horror, more atrocities through my scope than my father ever did during the war against Syllia almost fifty years ago.

We're all that's left, I'm afraid, of the 8th Volunteers. We signed up because by law, in times of war, a member of a family must serve, there are no exemptions, no exceptions, and if anyone tries to buy or bribe their way out of it, they were arrested on the spot for cowardice.

'Coward'. The ultimate insult for a soldier and a near death-sentence.

The Generals have issued our orders in place of the Committee. They are strict, and most people believe the Generals are simply covering their own asses while they are safe behind our lines. They know nothing about what is at the front. Nor do they care. They think if you throw enough bodies at a problem it'll just go away.

This problem won't.

Just yesterday I took out three soldiers under the cover of an artillery barrage aimed at flushing us out of our holes. The city is in ruins from the 24/7 bombardment. The shells were half-ass aimed but that was good enough. They blew up a camp some others like us had set up a few blocks back. Another shell impacted the department store we had been set up in last week.

I feel it in my bones. The enemy knows we're on the ropes. They know our resolve is fading. I hear gunfire daily and I can't help but wonder, is it our forces fighting the enemy? Or is it the Commanders turning their own guns on those who are trying to desert?

Most of these 'soldiers' are just kids. Most of them should still be with their families, in school, anywhere but a warzone.

We're low on ammunition and of our group, only myself, the Lieutenant, and a another soldier have weapons. I have my sniper rifle, the LT has his SMG but he's barely got half a drum left. The other soldier has a pistol but, realisticly, had only three rounds left until I gave her the loose rounds I had in my bag.

If my memory hasn't failed me yet, I seem to recall there being an outpost in an old factory in the industrial district. But I'll be damned if I know how we'll get there without fighting out way through the whole damn Rotarian Army.

Looks like Raster and Mikail are returning from the old camp. Here's hoping they found some ammo, or at least an intact bottle of vodka.

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Two rifles, a pistol, a few SMG drums, and an LMG were set down on the rug in the apartment. Immediately Vasili could see that two of the three drums were dented and unusable. The LMG was intact but there were no ammo wheels for the weapon. One rifle had warped sights, the other had a cracked stock and grip but was still servicable. The pistol, ironically, was the only intact weapon. No surprise because it was what was popularly known as the '38-07'.

The M.38/1907 pistol was crafted from a solid chunk of metal. It held 8 rounds, but ironically held no magazine. Instead, like the rifles, it used a large 'strip clip' that was loaded through the top. It was sturdy, but heavy. Reliable, but unwieldy. It was used primarily by the enlisted who couldn't afford the smaller, sleeker, and lighter pistols favored by the officers and generals.

Thankfully there were eight strip clips for them, and six rifle clips.

The pistol went to the kid, Vasili's spotter, Mishka. The two rifles went to Cazel and Raster. Mikail, being the biggest of the lot, hefted the LMG with ease. The Lieutenant managed to extricate the rounds from the damaged drums and wound up with two full 71-round drums and a few loose rounds. However, upon examining the rifles, he scowled as he pulled a pair of pliers out of his bag and straightened the warped sights but for the busted rifle there was nothing he could do except strip the mechanism from the weapon in case it was needed later for repairs. Vasili himself took two clips, passed two to Raster, and then passed the others to Cazel. When Cazel looked to him curiously, Vasili looked her straight in the eye.

"There are enough dead bodies and fallen weapons around here for you to easily find a weapon. For the moment, take the ammunition. If, God forbid, I or Raster get killed, take the rifle we drop and use the ammo to continue the fight." Cazel nodded, her green eyes sorrowful yet understanding. Vasili eased over to the window and gazed out onto the street, wondering what the hell to do now. He turned over to the Lieutenant who was checking his weapon. The young officer stopped and looked to him, gaze forlorn.

"Well Sergeant, what do we do?" Vasili gazed back out at the street and looked in the distance at the factory he seemed to recall had an outpost.

"Well sir, I believe there was, or might still be an outpost over by the factory in the far side of the city. Now if there is one there we can rally with our forces to try and continue holding the city. The devil in the details is actually getting there." Mishka suddenly looked up with a 'duh' expression.

"Sir, what about the sewers?" Vasili looked to the young man curiously.

"The sewers? What about them?"

"They run all over the city. Plus, I think they're the only place the Rotarians won't go. I guess they're afraid of getting their uniforms dirty. But, what I'm getting at is that we can use the sewers to move undetected under the feet of the enemy. We would only need to expose ourselves should we come across a damaged or exposed section or once we reach the factory." Vasili gave a slight nod and looked to the Lieutenant, Alenkov.

"What say you Lieutenant Alenkov? Shall we regroup with our forces at the factory?" Alenkov looked to Vasili and gave a small smile and a nod.

"No need to be official with me Vasili. I defer to your judgement in these matters. If not for you I and the rest of us here would be dead several times over by now. But still, as you said, the enemy is tightening the noose around our necks. We can either wait, in which case we shall be killed one by one or all at once, or we can cut our losses in this part of the city and regroup with our fellow holdouts and hope that none of them are in the mood to shoot us for abandoning our posts." Vasili grunted.

"We've been holed up in this part of the city for two months. There's been no radio contact, not since Sergei got killed trying to scavenge parts for it. The fighting has moved on from this area with the exception of the occasional patrol or the random artillery barrage trying to flush people out of whatever shelter they can still find. If anything, they should be grateful we returned to duty rather than taking the chance to leave the city." At that moment, Mikail burst out with that trademark laugh of his.

"Don't be so hasty to defect now comrade. Heh, such talk would make you appear to be disloyal to the nation. You don't want to be lumped in with those fanatics the government has ben throwing into the artic prisons now eh? Besides, you leave now you won't see how this chapter in our nation's history ends. Or... if that doesn't tickle your fancy... how about this? No one here knows half the things you know. Alenkov may be the officer in charge, but you... You are our leader. If you leave, all of us... we'd likely be dead within the week." Vasili shook his head.

"Don't sell yourselves short. I'm an old man, you lot have your whole lives ahead of you-" Cazel looked up and interrupted him.

"Lives that don't mean much of anything if we're killed in action, arrested for defecting, or if we allow Rotiart to win here in which case we'd be POWs and you know, you've seen how the Rotarians treat POWs. They won't let anyone survive after so much resistance has been raised here. They'll raze the city to the ground and bury us all beneath the rubble if they get the opportunity." Raster looked up this time and nodded.

"She's right you know? At least if we fight there's still a chance help will come. Giving up is admitting defeat. Same as doing nothing at all. If it is to be our end, then we should make our ends worthy of being remembered. Make our stories worthy of being told and retold throughout the ages. We the few, the loyal and resiliant few who stood up against all forms of oppression and evil and fought to the last bullet, the last man... and woman, who fought until the last drop of blood was spilled. If I had a choice, THAT's how I'd want to be remembered." Mishka chuckled, gaining an approving glance from Mikail and a scowl from Raster.

"Yeah and perhaps a statue built in our memory in the center of the plaza at the Azure Square in Retorinc with a plaque that reads: 'In Eternal Memory Of Those Who Held Out Against All Odds' or something along those lines. Me? I intend to survive. This city is my home and I'll not abandon it without a fight. That's why I volunteered." Vasili looked around to the people around him and sighed.

"So, does that mean we're all in agreement? Shall we go through the sewers and head for the factory?" As one the group nodded. Vasili sighed and then went back to checking his rifle.

"So be it. But, we wait for darkness. I'm not to keen on running out there in broad daylight with only some rubble for cover. I'm not in a hurry to experience having my ass shot off as the Syllians say." This brought a round of laughter from the rest of the group as they settled back in to await sunset.

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Several hours later...

Vasili awoke to a gentle nudging of his shoulder. A lifetime of waking at the slightest touch allowed him to awaken at once with no sign of grogginess. His eyes opened to the sight of Mishka standing in front of him. The young man nodded to him and pointed that the others were also just stirring. Outside, the only light to see by was from the moon, the stars, and the fires that burned throughout the ruined buildings.

He eased himself up, not wanting his back to start popping as it sometimes did when he shifted or moved suddenly. Once he was standing, he picked up his rifle, his bag, and went to the door. Alenkov came up and joined him, covering him as he opened the door and cautiously sticking the gun out and peeking to see if anyone was out there. Once Alenkov nodded, Vasili opened the door and moved out solwly and cautiously. In the still darkness, every creak, every sound, seemed a thousand times louder than it was. The worst part was decending the stairs as it seemed that no matter how lightly someone brought their foot down, the stairs groaned and protested.

Still, they all reached the bottom without incident. The blown open front of the building allowed them to see there was no enemy presense in the area as they walked to the nearby manhole covering the sewer entrance. Mikail, the pack rat, produced a crobar from hrom his pack and stuck it in the cover and pried it off. Then, he gazed up to the others, a crooked grin on his face.

"Last one in, get the door. Oh, and I'll want that crobar back." Cazel let out a groan as she came forward and Mikail motioned in a 'ladies first' gesture.

Cazel climbed down the ladder and Vasili heard a muffled splash as her feet hit the water below.

"Oh... my... GOD! This is awful!" Mikail chuckled and called down to her.

"Start with shallow breaths. You'll get used to the smell." They heard Cazel's reply to that as Mikail started down after her. Next was Raster, then Mishka, Alenkov, and Vasili was the last. Using Mikail's crobar to pull the cover back over the hole in the street, he handed the tool back to its owner who looked about the sewers for something. Alenkov curiously asked what he was doing, Mikail explained.

"The sewers all have markers showing the way to the next block or the next area. All the tunnels down here look alike so it's easy to get lost. I had an uncle once get lost in the Retorinc sewer system for three days straight. One day I asked why the hell he didn't simply climb out of the sewers and he told me it was because he left his truck parked at East Fifth." Cazel looked to him with a flat expression.

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" Mikail chuckled.

"Nope. True story. My uncle was good man, just dumb as a post. He worked for Retorinc Sanitation and did his job well. He fixed all the problems he ever caused."

Cazel hefted a fallen brick and gazed at Vasili with an expression that said she really, really wanted him to say it was okay for her to bash Mikail's brains in, or whatever it was he had up there in that thick head of his. Instead Vasili shook his head and pointed to the right passage.

"That way leads to Industrial Plaza. Once there, the factory should be at Third and West. Watch for exposed sections, traps, and other hazzards." Mikail chuckled again.

"Yeah you know the stories right? Apparently the well-to-do who purchase exotic pets then lose interest in them dump them down here in the sewers. No telling what we'll run into down here. My uncle once swore he saw a supersized Callinian crocodile swim right past him once." Mishka cocked an eyebrow at that.

"The same uncle who was lost for three days?" Mikail smiled broadly.

"Da. He says he saw the croc on the third day when he was starting to feel the effects of dehydration. Actually raised enough of a ruckus to get people to send search parties down into the sewers to capture the monster. In the end they never found it but six searchers mysteriously went missing during that time. Their bodies were never found." Raster groaned and Cazel gave Mikail a venomous look that made him sweat nervously.

The group started off down the passage, easing through, checking every nook and cranny just in case they did come across something that shouldn't have been there. Twice, they came across some sort of improvised explosive device rigged by Federal forces and rather than disarm them, simply avoided the triggers and stepped around them.

Vasili came around a corner and then brought his hand down just as Mishka came up beside him and pointed down. Mishka looked down and paled. He had just come within a hair's length of stepping on a tripwire that Vasili visually followed to a 'bouquet' of six live grenades hanging from the cieling.

The trap was set to yank all six pins out of the spoons when someone brought their foot down on the tripwire. Thankfully, Vasili had dealt with this kind of trap before. He eased up to the bouquet, cut the line on the lowest hanging grenade and slowly disarmed each grenade and passed them along to the group who were thankful to have something that, if push came to shove, they could use to great effect against the enemy.

A little further down the tunnel, some mortar and dirt from the cieling fell, making Vasili halt the group. Placing his hand on the cieling he felt a slight shaking and eased around to where the curb was and glanced up through the storm drain and scowled.

"Armored cars and halftracks over us. From here on out, no unnecessary noise. If we come to a damaged area, get down and move slowly."

The group advanced a little further through the sewers. Cazel took over the lead and managed to discover the path to the factory. In a fit of relief, she took a rushed step forward and tripped as her foot snagged something that made Vasili pale as he heard a faint 'snick'.

"Don't move!" Cazel froze where she was on her hands and knees, gazing about with a panicked expression as Vasili came forward and then removed some broken bricks haphazardly piled up reveiling, of all things, a 155mm artillery HEI (high-explosive/ incendiary) shell wired to the tripwire that Cazel had stepped on, but not triggered.

The firing pin of the trap had rusted, rendering the shell both unusable as a trap but also unstable as the small spring was tripped but could slam forward, detonating the shell at any moment.

To make matters worse, the section to the far left was caved in and Vasili could see vehicles rolling by and troops marching. As he moved forward to try and disable the trigger, he heard some rubble fall from near the hole and saw a small group of soldiers stop. The tunnel echoed with their officer's booming voice.

"You men go down there and check it out. If you see anything, call for support. The rest of the troops are moving on to the factory."

Vasili pulled Cazel aside as eighteen troops came down into the hole and started shining their lights around.

"Be on the lookout. Reports say that the survivors have strung traps all over this area. Watch your step."

Vasili eased up to the side and grabbed the grenade from his coat, finger in the pin. The debris was stacked high enough to hide the group as they crawled forward. On the opposide side, Cazel grabbed her grenade as well and nodded to Vasili. Together, they pulled the pin, counted to three, and tossed them into the darkness. The grenades bounced off the stone of the sewers making a distinctive sound.

By a sheer stroke of bad luck, a soldier actually stepped on the grenade. Looking down, he identified the handle and saw the shape of what he'd stepped on and paled. He had just enough time to shout a warning before the grenades went off, blowing him upwards into the cieling and blowing another soldier off the walkway and into the fetid, greenish-brown sludge that was in the sewer.

The first soldier screamed, clutching at what was once his right leg as Alenkov and Mishka rounded, opening fire down the corridor. Mishka silenced the wounded soldier and Alenkov's rounds cut down three of them before they dove to either side, oblivious to the sludge and started returning fire.

Rounds bounced off the stone, forcing Alenkov and Mishka to take cover. One of the soldiers ran back up the entrance, but Vasili put a round through his head just as he reached the top. Good, but not good enough. The soldier was shot within sight of his fellows who started shouting and running towards the entrance. Cursing, Vasili returned to cover and reloaded his weapon.

"If they come down here and follow us, we'll lead them right to the factory. We have to seal this off somehow." Cazel looked down at the shell and then to Mishka.

"Mishka, how many rounds do you have left?" Mishka shook his head sadly.

"Five rounds left. Sorry Sergeant, I couldn't control my weapon good enough." Before Vasili could say anything, Cazel handed Mishka the rifle ammo she had and took the pistol from him.

"You guys go. I'll stay here and detonate this shell. It's a 155 so it should collapse this entire passage." Vasili shook his head.

"No. We can wire a grenade and then detonate it from a distance. There's no reasonfor you to-"

Vasili stopped as he noticed blood on Cazel's pants leg. Easing over to get a better look, he was horrified to see a piece of wire sticking in her pants. Cazel chuckled and looked at Vasili.

"That's why the shell didn't detonate. The wire snapped with such force it embedded itself in my leg. I... I think it nicked that artery that runs down my leg. I-I won't make it. Sergeant Vasili, please. Take the rest fo them and get to the factory. Warn them there. I'll stay here. If you try to save me and sacrifice a hundred others you have made the wrong choice."

"But you have a family. A husband and child." Cazel sighed and shook her head.

"They were in Grand Vista." Vasili sighed and lowered his head.

"I'm sorry." Cazel smiled.

"Don't be. I now have a chance to be with them again. You did all you could. Never regret a single moment. When this war is over, people like us, we'll be remembered." Vasili chuckled and motioned for the others to go ahead.

"There's just one problem with that. I don't want to be remembered. When this all blows over, I'd prefer to be forgotten. The dead are the only ones who need to be remembered." Cazel's smile widened as she fought to hold back a laugh.

"Well then, try to remember me, okay old man?" Vasili nodded and then turned to leave. He was grateful Cazel hadn't seen the tears welling up in his eyes. She was roughly the same age as his oldest daughter. Eighty-seven days together had forged the group into a family. In their own way, each person of the group resembled his children. In all honesty, he had more than hoped that when the war was over and he found his family, he could consider getting Mishka and his daughter Olivia together.

As the group advanced forward, they kept hearing a gunshot every one in a while. Then, as the grate and the tell-tale smokestacks of the factory were within sight, a loud explosion echoed through the tunnel. Vasili spared a glance back to say a silent goodbye and then turned back to his group.

"Come on. Just a little more to go. We... We've lost a friend, yes, but now we are on the front lines. We cannot afford to mourn. We must not waver. Cazel's death is one more reason to end this war and drive these Rotarian invaders our of our homeland! Foward, into the factory!"

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The reason for the sunlight in this area was that a bomber had crash landed and somehow managed to rip the top half of the sewer line off, turning it into a stone and steel trench. As the group approached the factory, Vasili kept hearing singular gunshots from somwhere on the other side of where the Industrial Park was. Putting it out of his mind for the moment, he and his troops advanced to the factory where, upon nearing the sewer grate to the factory, it suddenly opened and three Tellanian soldiers, two armed with Sh-29 SMGs with 71 round drums and the third who was as large as Mikhail hefted a LMG22 Light Machinegun.

"Halt and identify yourselves!"

Vasili stepepd forward.

"Staff Sergeant Vasili Alexandr, Eleventh Army, Sharpshooter Regiment. This is Lieutenant Alenkov, Eleventh Army, Assault Corps. We're all that's left of the merged Eighth Volunteers." One of the soldiers looked at Vasili's rifle then back to him.

"Sharpshooter? Have you been behind those shots we've been hearing every so often in the west of the city?" Vasili nodded.

"My unit was tasked with holding the residential district but then the enemy started bombarding it, destroying buildings and I decided to get the survivors with me and make for the factory here, that is, if you still have a standing force here." One of the soldiers glowered.

"You intend to desert?" Vasili shook his head.

"No. I believed that the best way to help hold the city was to regroup with whatever forces we still had and hold out for as long as possible. I and those with me fully intend to fight to the last round but, with our supply camps in the Residential destroyed, we had to come here. Who's in command here?"

"That would be comrade Commander Illyich. He's on the floor right now mustering what remains of the morale here. Those Rotarian bastards have been raking the factory with machinegun fire for days now. Worse, they started executing POWs on the wall in plain view of our soldiers who, quite frankly, are good shots but are no marksmen. It may be possible the Commander may have a duty that you may be suited for. Come on, the stink of these sewers is making me ill."

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Okay, so the group has made it safely to the factory. What will happen next? Find out next chapter!

Next Chapter: Not One Step Back.