I'm writing this in case I haven't edited my previous chapter to state it but, in the event of all that has happened in Berlin, Germany, my prayers are with the victims of that senseless attack.

I don't know when I'll post this, maybe after Christmas, or perhaps New Years, but it shall be posted soon.

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

Chapter 61: The Second Battle of Launces, Part I

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"Okay, fire her up!"

One of the students spun the flywheel on the old T7 tank. It spun once, twice, three times before the built up steam finally started making its way through the old engine. The pistons, usually covered by a thin metal 'hat' started rising and falling in rhythm. The large flywheel turned a smaller on along a belt which ran the engine. If George's calculations were correct, there was enough water in the tank housed under the frame to power the war machine for roughly four hours.

Even he wasn't confident enough to entertain the notion that they could take the city in four hours. Still, gazing around, he was glad they had some armor rather than none. All in all, they had roughly 46 working T7 tanks. The latest intel that Lieutenant Carmine had gotten for them was that the Occupation had twenty tanks on standby but the OAC had commandeered the rest and had actually immobilized several to create makeshift roadblocks since the Runners had started to become more active in the past three days.

While Hazzard was prepping explosives to use to blow up the roadblocks, the uniforms they had secured were almost finished, the Partisans and the Academy students were working quickly to fix what T7 tanks were salvagable. The Partisans who were skilled mechanically were busy using components scavenged to repair any weapons that needed repairs and also reloading rounds. The Royalist soldiers had also been willing to work, discreetly of course.

Nothing large or flashy, just small things like leaving persons of interest unguarded for a time so that the Partisans could evacuate them, leaving doors in certain buildings unlocked and unguarded, sending OAC forces to patrol other parts of the city while the Resistance worked in the areas they had vacated. Thanks to this, and the fact that they had finally learned that the nuclear failsafe was housed in the castle, George felt that they were ready to start.

He glanced back to his watch and saw that it was now five in the morning, most of Launces was still asleep, the Royalists were on watch in the Tower and the Midtown Keep, waiting for the signal that, once it was given, they would open the gates, turn what weapons and cannons were functioning onto OAC positions and buildings, and support the Resistance. The Runners and other cells had been going around telling the people of the city to take shelter in the Underground and keep clear of the streets for the next few days.

He nodded to the student, then stepped down from the tank and made his way over to the group of people he was taking into the catacombs with him. There was Miles, of course, Amber, the young woman who had rescued him all those months ago, then there was Grant, Edwards, Carson, and Angela.

George grimaced as he recalled the arguement she had used to get to go with him on this part of the operation. During the time between the fall of Launces and the operation at the hospital, she had seen many horrible things. She was determined not to be separated from him again. Lastly, he saw Lieutenant Carmine himself. The young officer's uniform was the same as the standard Rotarian uniform, with only one exception. Around the left sleeve was a tricolored gold, white, and silver band pinned to the upper arm.

In the sidearm holster on his left hip was a PP31k, a small compact sidearm that was the standard for the Intelligence Corps. The weapon drawing the most attention though was the one slung over his back.

Carmine noticed George's glances at his weapon and unslung it for him to examine.

"It's a new weapon that Mechanos created for the infantry. Supposedly, it's purpose is to replace not only the standard infantry rifle but also the submachinegun and the light machinegun. He calls it the Sturmgewehr or 'Assault Rifle'. These weapons are supposed to be making their way to frontline units sometime within the next few months." George looked to him.

"How many soldiers in Launces are equipped with these weapons?"

"Not many, maybe sixty or seventy. I said it is currently being examined by the branches to find any flaws in the design and as such is only deployed in limited numbers. A lot of the old guard are hesitant, to put it mildly, about replacing such weapons that have been a military staple for almost twenty years. Their tactics rely on machineguns pinning down soldiers for submachine gunners and riflemen to close with the enemy ranks and attack. Not only is this weapon not as accurate as a rifle but the fire rate is slower than an SMG but the recoil is greater because it uses a completely new round."

"What new round?" Carmine held up some bullets he had kept in his coat.

"The big one here is a rifle round, it's a 7.92mm. Our SMGs use 9mm. These new rifles use a cut down rifle round called the 7.62mm. Same size as the rifle but just not as long. Less power equals less range, less stopping power, and plus difficulties in retooling factories to produce the new round." George nodded and then turned to see the others milling about.

"Okay everyone, gather round. We'll go over the plan one more time." George unrolled a city map as the students and other Partisans gathered near.

"Alright. First, my group will leave through the catacombs and make our way to the Castle District. Once that's done, we'll find the bomb and hopefully be able to disarm or neutralize it. Then we'll work to retake the castle, when we succeed, we will restore power to the grand clocktower and set it to alarm mode. The ringing of the bell will be the signal for the Royalists to show their true colors and fight back against the OAC." He pointed to the Tower and the Midtown Keep.

"It'll also be the signal for the tanks to start rolling and for our forces throughout the city to start attacking. Once the garrisons in the Tower and the Midtown Keep catch sight of the tanks they are to open the gates and allow them through. This plan does not secure the entire city but it simply captures points most vital and also neutralizes the biggest advantage the OAC holds." As the Partisans nodded, a young man came running towards them, an expression of pure excitement on his face.

"Your Highness, we were able to get word out. The Royal Army is holding off it's advance but His Majesty has assembled an Airborne assault that is to parachute into the city at ten o'clock. The message also said that elements of the Launces First Air Wing will be escorting the transports." George smiled.

"In that case. Brooks, the flag." A young Partisan came left for a moment and then came running back with a folded flag in his arms. George took the flag and then motioned for Miles to take it.

"This was the old flag that flew from the castle's main tower. It's the highest point in the city. Once we start the bells in the clocktower chiming, we'll then leave there and proceed up the main tower to the top floor. Once there, we lower that eyesore the Rotarians have there and raise this flag in it's place. The flag alone should suffice to prove that the castle district is back in our hands." Grant looked to George and then to the map.

"The flag might very well serve, but all the same, I've managed to get one of those portable Rotarian radios. Once we raise the flag over the city, I'll start broadcasting on the Syllian frequency. That'll let the boys in the transports know what parts of the city are under our control and what's still hostile." George nodded.

"Good thinking. Alright, I make the time at 5:45. We'd best be off. Once the tanks are rolling, they won't be able to stop for anything. The charges Hazzard made will be placed by Wolf's Den on several key anti-air positions throughout the city. Once they are detonated, Caldor and Zafra will have free reign throughout the skies over the city." He took a moment more to glance around at his soldiers, his comrades, his Partisans who had been with him throughout this time of Launces' occupation. Now he was going home.

"All right, let's go."

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The smell of horses was nothing new to Caldor as he waited for the signal to be given. He glanced to his side to see Zafra laying beside him, sleeping peacefully with barely a sound. He entertained thoughts of what it would be like after the war. He wondered if James, Lysa, Ignitus and Thera, especially her, truly didn't mind him being Zafra's mate. Still, a darker thought wondered what would happen once it became public knowledge. There were those among even the Partisans who still called him the 'Traitor's Son'. No doubt there would be opposition among the other Dracocorps dragons and Dragoons once word got out.

Then he thought of his Mother. What would she think of it? Would she try and crawl back into his life just as quickly as she had clawed her way out of it? Would she laugh and scoff about her 'son'? Or would she simply remain as she'd always been: cold and resentful?

He glanced down at Zafra and focused his senses on her, breathing in her scent which, to his mind, was far better than the smell of the some six dozen horses milling around nearby. The first he sensed that someone was approaching was the metal 'clank' of the artificial leg. He recognized it instantly.

Out of all the 'old soldiers' of the 8th Cavalry, only Colonel Edward Falcyion, whose leg had been lost not due to battle but to an illegal honor duel over a woman in his youth, had the guts to speak to Caldor. It was what made Caldor willing to listen to his orders. Falcyion was kind, didn't give a damn who his parents were, and had said the moment he met him, point blank that: 'you choose to fight alongside me in the coming fray then you are no son of no traitor, you are a son of Syllia as are we all children of our nation, the guardians of our city and home, let no one, man or dragon, tell you different'.

Because of this fake leg, the Colonel had a distinctive gait. He stepped with his right leg, then the cane he always carried, then he swung his leg in a motion that when the knee joint 'clicked', he stepped down. He would have made a damn good actor the way he seemingly 'walked' with a metal leg. When mounting his horse, a great white mare named for his deceased wife, Maria, he would holster his right leg in the stirrup and swing his entire body weight over the horse and hook his left leg into the saddle brace made to keep him upright.

Caldor hesitantly broke his gaze from Zafra's sleeping form and turned his head to the old man who was coming towards them. When he neared, he stopped and glanced at Zafra and smiled. The old man, like all his soldiers, were dressed in their old cavalry uniforms: a double-breasted bright blue long overcoat with gold buttons all the way down to weapon belt in which was a holster with a matching set of rosewood revolvers and an incredible gold and blue velvet-lined cavalry sabre. His trousers were of the same blue as his coat and had gols stripes down the sides ending with his knee-height black leather riding boots.

Colonel Falcyion came up and nodded to Zafra before turning to Caldor.

"It is good that she can get some sleep before we go to war. Some of the younger men are of the same mind." Caldor nodded.

"Tell me Colonel? I thought that-" Falcyion chuckled and cut him off, knowing what he was about to ask.

"Some of the men are indeed 'old soldiers' like I am but for the rest, their fathers and their grandfathers served in the Eighth. Since they are either unable to answer to call to horse or are long since dead and buried, how can I turn away those who wish to ride with us to retake our home?" Caldor sighed and looked to the horses.

"This war isn't like the ones you fought Colonel. The enemy now knows what to do against cavalry-mounted attacks. You charge in recklessly, they'll turn machineguns or automatic cannons on you and cut your entire charge to pieces." Colonel Falcyion smiled at that.

"Well then, all the more incentive for you and Lady Zafra there to destroy those threats before they can target us. Do not think me so unused to the way wars change, Caldor, I was there that day, long ago, at Callen's Hill when the Federation cut our entire cavalry charge to pieces with their meatgrinder machineguns. If not for James de Launces' bravery and skill with artillery, I would not have survived the battle after getting my horse shot out from under me. That day everything we knew about warfare, every rule and law we developed over the past two-hundred years, was thrown out the window. The horse-mounted cavalry was no longer the most feared thing on the battlefield." The Colonel looked to his pocketwatch.

"You'd best get some rest while you can as well Caldor, we've a while yet before we are called up." Colonel Falcyion turned and walked away as Caldor turned to look at Zafra again and laying his head down next to hers.

(I wonder how far George has gotten by now...) He sighed and closed his eyes and went into a half doze.

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When he was young, George had always been forbidden to go down into the catacombs by his Father. Even though the Federation War was almost fourty years ago, the horrors and wounds were still here. The group had reached the passageway where, long ago, James de Launces had discovered the fates of his parents and siblings. The stone here was still stained with the blood that had been spilled all those years ago.

Despite the feelings this place gave George, he knew that they were now in the castle. All they had to do now was to find the secret entrance. Following the passage a little further, he found a slab of stone that was different than the stone throughout the passageway and gave a slight nudge to it. He smiled when he felt the stone give a little and nodded to the others with him.

"Carmine, before we exit here, how many of the soldiers inside are Royalists?"

"Including myself and my uncle, roughly six officers and twenty enlisted. The rest are Mechanos' men and the OAC. That means we are outnumbered at least three to one. However, patrols change pretty regularly so we may be in a better position as my Uncle usually sends out the Loyalists on patrol more regularly than our troops. Either way, the passage lets out on the ground floor, right? Well, all the enlisted on this level are ours and the officers are quartered in the northeast tower." George nodded at that and motioned for Miles to help him open the door.

The sound of grating stone was loud to George, all things considered, but they kept it up, managing to push the stone door all the way open and stepping out into a side hall in the castle. Carmine went first and left the tunnel, checking to the left and right before nodding to the others while filed out one at a time until they were in the hall and George eased the stone back into place.

"Alright Carmine, where's the failsafe?"

"Basement. The old wine cellar." George nodded, Miles groaned.

"I hope you Rotarians didn't pillage the stores down there. The de Launces family had many vintages dating all the way back to the early seventeen hundreds." Carmine flinched and glanced away.

"Sorry. The wine cellar was declared 'spoils of war' by the OAC and several high ranking officers. If it's any consolation, my Uncle forbid the looting of the castle for fear of galvanizing the people into rash action. Everything should be just as Your Highness left it." George nodded but Miles was devestated.

"The wine cellar was an art display in and of itself. Everything listed according to date, region, ingredients, and who made it. James de Launces used to allow me to take a bottle every now and again so that I could try and replicate the techniques of wine makers, distillers, and brewers who passed on long ago and took their secrets to the grave with them." He sighed.

"I was to start work on the wine maker Gustav Remone. There was even a bottle of his famous 1818 Honey Apple Champaigne down there. Not to mention an original Edward Thaddeus Metzk 1784 Cognac, a 1812 Calkan Merlot, a bottle of the very rare Susano Aganichi 1820 Sake... I could go on but I doubt any of you wish to see a grown man cry." Carmine chuckled.

"Oh, there's wine down there? The troops just went for the high proof stuff, whiskey, brandy, things like that. You Syllians gave many an officer in the Rotarian Army a drinking problem after the defense you put up of the city." Miles snorted.

"Barbarians..." A cough got their attention and the group turned to see six Rotarian soldiers standing there with curious expressions, glancing from Carmine to the offier with them and then back to Carmine.

"Lieutenant, are these-?" Carmine nodded.

"Yes, these are my contacts. Now, where's my Uncle and where's Terref?" The young officer saluted.

"Sir, your Uncle is in his quarters, as is the 'good' Captain. Mason, there's been a... complication..." Carmine became serious.

"What do you mean?"

"Sir... The OAC... I don't know is we have a traitor amongst our own or if the Partisans do but... Terref, he knows of your involvement... He doesn't know who all's involved but he suspected your Uncle and placed him under guard." Carmine grew grim.

"If he suspected my Uncle, then why tell him about the location of the failsafe?" Laughter got their attention.

"I told him because there was no harm in doing so. At least, I didn't suspect so at the time." The group turned to see roughly thirty OAC soldiers alongside a man with Captain's bars standing there grinning like a man who had just gotten everything he'd ever asked for all at once. George snarled.

"Captain Terref of the OAC, I presume?" Terref nodded.

"Indeed... So, the traitor, the leaders of the Partisans, and all in one day. I must say you've all played your parts well. I especially loved planting that little kernal of fear about an atomic weapon. Hah! As if I'd be a fool enough to actually arm the device should I have recieved one. No... the plan is much, much simpler. Once the Syllian forces arrive, we'll use the long-range cannons on the Chimera, which I have requested in lue of a nuclear device, to level the city while they're celebrating it's recapture! Unfortunately, you traitors and heroes will have to remain here." George took a deep breath and glanced to Miles and Angela who understood the glance and edged away from him. Biding his time to start shifting, he looked to Terref who was so far into his gloating he remained unaware who George was or that he was already a few inches taller and his voice going deeper.

"So then, there really was no atomic failsafe?" Terref scoffed.

"Of course not. I said already I'm far to attached to living. No, I plan on crushing your force, then returning to Rotiart a hero to live outthe rest of my days in comfort worthy of my status." George smiled.

"Just checking." Terref glanced at him curiously.

"Just what do you mean by-"

Terref was cut off abruptly as George dropped his weapon blinked his eyes, shifting them with that blink to unnerve his enemies and growled once before shifting into his dragon form. Having been warned at that glance, Miles and Angela pulled the others back just as his form expanded. His wings, folded, touched both sides of the hallway, his tail, while shorter than his brothers, was still long enough to reach down the hallway dividing it in half, his double broadaxe-shaped tailblade actually cracking the stone with its weight, and his head, along with the five large horns that 'crowned' him stopped at the roof of the hall.

Unlike the others of his family, George's scales were silver but had undertones of red and green around the scale edges. His eyes in human form had been a solid blue but now that he shifted they took on the appearance of his siblings, swirled silver and blue and his had a menacing red backtone. The Partisans had the satisfaction of seeing Terref at an absolute loss for words as George shifted. The OAC soldiers didn't know what they were seeing and more than one lowered their weapons in dumbstruck silence. George then looked down at the terrified humans and snorted.

"I am George de Launces, Crown Prince of Syllia; and I will not allow your plans to succeed!" Terref moved a muscle to protest or give the order to fire but George breathed deep and let loose a mights roar before whatever Terref had planned to do could happen. The roar was so forceful and powerful that it created a wind which bowled the OAC troops and their Captain over in a heartbeat. Terref, unsurprisingly, was first to his feet and off like a shot in the opposite direction of George's dragon form. George then glanced back to the Partisans and the Royalist soldiers.

"Partisans of Launces, Rise and Fight!"

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To be continued...

Next Chapter: The Second Battle of Launces, Part II