Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to Calvin and Hobbes or Garfield. They are owned by Bill Watterson respectfully. However, Dilger and Boxer are my creations.

Battle of the Crater was a savage battle taken place in Petersburg Virginia in the ungodly summer heat of July 30, 1864, during the Civil War. Now, it's sequel was being played out into a cleared field in the heart of Indiana, where the carnage was no less.

In his throne room far removed from the battle, their leader, Garfield, was playing host to his generals whom dined on fine food and milk as the roar of cannons thundered in the very distance. Remenicant to just hours before, before Hobbes ignited his charge, to a proclimation that Garfield had personally dictated to Mr. President of the United States. In it, he personal proclaimed himself as emperor, a status that wasn't offical or even voted on. Included as a term that stipulated that all humans must submit to his rule as similar uprisings were happening in all states and even countries. In order to be emporer, Garfield must look like one. A fine red velvet robe with white trim drapped along his back and dragged for several feet. Already being made was a special golden crown, pitted with large diamonds and emralds was also made to fit his enormous head.

As they laughed and joked, a sudden rattle came from a door and in stepped a nervous aide into the great dining room.

"Ah yes, come, come, my boy what news do you have for me? Is that Mr. Hobbes report? I have been waiting to hear from him all day," Garfield laughed.

Reading from a piece of crumbled paper, the advisor read: "Sir, we have captured several more valuable prisoners from California. They are highly valued for their national attention in the media." Here he hesitated. Egged on by his superiors, he read on, "The president has also returned a reply to your demand."

"Very well, what did he say?" calmly.

"Uh, in clean words..."not on your life."

Irritated, the leader ordered this aide to take now a response. "I have hostages, valuable ones. Tell the president that if he does not reply with more enlighten terms in the next ten hours, I will publicly execute one hostage every hour on the hour till he does," his words were heavy and heard by all those in the room, including the gaggle of prisoners whom were helpless to resist wondering what kind of execution would be for them if the president refused his demands. Rising from his throne, even with the battle ragging outside, Garfield ascended down to speak with his prisoners. Some were human, some were cat, his own kind. With grace, he stride to the long row, starting off at one end, working his way down.

"What is your name?" he asked a man with large whiskers and a bald head.

"Jaime" he replied in a monotone voice.

"Ah yes, you were part of that television show. Am I correct?"

"Yes"

"Good, very good" at his elbow was a scrawny looking man with an orange goatee and black framed glasses.

"Who are you?" the leader asked.

"Adam" snarling back.

"Oh, feisty animal are we? Well, we have ways of calming you down" motioning to a pair of guards that carted him away to parts unknown.

"No! Leave him alone!" a girl cried down the ranks, catching the leader's eye. As Adam was being dragged away, kicking and yelling, Garfield approached a petite looking girl with fiery red hair and perky cheeks.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Kari" she spat, "Leave him alone!"

"Oh? Are you the leader of the revolution? I don't think so. I am Garfield, the great one." extending his arm, a finger touched Kari's chin, lifting it up slightly so that her eyes looked into his, "You will join other prisoners I have. Including some from California like yourself. If you are really good little prisoners, I will make your deaths quick and painless if your president fails to comply. And as for you my little Kari, will be my guest to watch as your friends are put to the sword before being the very last." as his words sent tears streaming down Kari's perky cheeks, Calvin was fighting for his own survival in the crater.

His attack was bogging down like the down pour on his head. Everything was slippery to the touch, roads were quagmires and shell holes were now pools with bodies floating in them. Whatever happened to that thought of a clean, bloodless revolution? In scaling the walls of the crater, the dogs discovered to their horror that it was next to impossible under heavy fire from those cannons in the forts to their right and left, now another problem. When the barrel was detonated, it scattered several units. An officer attempted to rally those remnants with a cry, "Rally you soldiers! Fight like cats not run like dogs!" His words assembled him less than two hundred stalwarts and they charged across a vacant lot directly in front of the crater. Though halted short of their objective by intense rifle fire, they found cover in a half completed trench and began to deal back punishment, throwing grenades into the darkness, using the shrills and cries of wounded to aim. Those able or smart enough to go around the rim of this crater were taken in a cross fire from three sides and began to crawl into the only protection possible, the crater itself, it was so cramped inside, that if one was hit, he couldn't even fall down. As the first wave became pinned down, more and more troops were being fed into it, pushing wounded down into the bottom, weighed down by more and more. More and more cats were being rallied by the minute, joining into the fight as the last dogs were committed by Dilger, unknown to him that nothing was being gained. All he saw were the lights and as long as they kept going, then someone was still alive in that mess. Somewhere in that tangled mess was Calvin, trying to keep a sense of order as the dogs all about him were fighting and dying. It had been only twenty odd minutes since that start of the attack, and the shock of it had worn off, now enemy reinforcements were being funneled into the fight. They must get out of this trap and now. Crawling on his hands and knees to gain enough traction, Calvin managed to scaled the wall of the crater, passing by prone soldiers, some firing, others wounded, some dead. At the very rim, a blast of cannon blew away a large chunk of earth. Ducking down then reappearing soon after, Calvin got his first eyeful of the fort he so desperately wanted to witness blown up. It was big, dwarfing his already minor skeleton. Bristling with cannon on all sides, firing down on him with soldiers adding to that power with small arms. With bullets whizzing all about, the boy forced his way upwards, stepping onto the level earth. Lacking a sword or any other weapon, he turned to look back at these soldiers, yelling at the top of his fatigued lungs, "Come one! Get up! Get up and fight!". Turning, he took several steps then fell on his knees. Wasn't hit just slipped and it was impossible to get back up again, so onward he went, on his hands and knees, inching his way towards that wall when a hand was offered to him.

"An officer doesn't crawl" the soldier said.

Taking it, the two began their assent, chiseling out foot holds with their bare hands into the hard clay. Inspired by his bravery and recklessness, soldiers began to rise up, leaving their semi safety and charging right for the forts, defying their fire as they began to scale it's walls. Blinded by their own fire, defenders didn't realize this until a deafening roar and their foe came face to face. Defenders attempted to stand on the ramparts and fire down onto them were quickly shot down as the dogs finally leaped over into it's interiors. Blasts of canister and shell continued to pester them, but one by one, the guns fell silent in rapid succession as the defenders, confused and leaderless, especially in Fort No 5, when it's commander, Colonel Condite fled, began to flee or surrender. As for that half completed trench, they to were hit when squadrons of dogs, with rifles blazing, charged them head on. Cats rose up to fire, only to have their chests ripped open by edged weapons. Then, somewhere in the mix, a grenade, either on accident or intentional, was armed and dropped and it detonated, spewing shrapnel in every direction, scything down both sides. Broken and defeated, cats began to give ground, some still fighting as they did, facing their enemy, fearful of taking a bullet in the back. As the fighting in Fort No. 6 was at it's peak, Calvin was swept up in this mortal combat. Standing on the ramparts as others rushed past, he looked down to see hundreds of what appeared to be ants swarming about his feet. Two charged him with fixed bayonets. Just a moment before their blades touched him, two soldiers came up from behind and shot them down. A close shave.

One them pushed Calvin out of the way, telling him to "move or be damned."

Regaining his composure, the boy spied an abandoned gun and rushed for it. Finding it still loaded, he beconded two soldiers as the gain the parapet to assist in turning it around. With rounds pinging off the iron tube, this three succeeded in their task, and took careful aim at one of the many hutsthe fort's interior that were the garrison's housing. Snipers were in there, pecking away at their attackers. Stout wood and mud walls were stalwart to bullets, something heavy was needed to blast them out. Depressing it's muzzle and aiming carefully, using the many muzzle flashes as a guide, Calvin got his fix and fired, blowing an entire shack away like a broom sweeping up dust.

"I always wanted to do that!" he laughed.

Just then, a bullet struck on his companions, and he went down, dead. Stunned, he stood there, looking at this body. Other soldiers didn't pause though, seizing other cannons and turning them on their former owners. Great swaths and holes were opened on the walls as the garrison turned tail and spilled out over the other side, running across towards Fort No. 4 or taking their chances in crossing the vacant lot towards the suburbs. After just minutes in storming these great walls, Fort No. 6 was captured, it's banner, a giant green emerald flag with a large pan of lasagna in it's center, was taken down and found to be riddled with shrapnel and scared by bullets. In it's place, the dogs ran up a smaller plain black flag that was harder to make out in he twilight. Still, powerful blasts of cannon still electrified the night with thunderclaps as the two forces went at one another still. When powder went damp, and bullets exhausted, they went back to flinging mud and rock, and claws and teeth. Numbers were not enough to even stem the furious assault. Gradually, the cats began to give way. Neighboring forts could not be counted on for support due to the weather and incoherentness between units. They had no knowledge that Forts 5 and 6 were now in enemy hands
and when shells began to crash against their walls, officers became adamant that a training exercise was being bundled.

Only thing bundled was the defense. Colonel Condite, a pure black domestic short tail whom blended in perfectly with his current surroundings used that to his advantage, lurking back towards the great many buildings of the suburbs to gather what was left of his garrison and others. Fugitives, routed individuals streamed through and around them, defying curses and oaths, and bayonets to rally and join them. Their great division was falling apart after less than an hour of combat. Since is was useless to stop them, and further a hazard to stay in the open, still far removed from his goal, Condite ordered his soldiers off the only serviceable road and into a half filled irrigation ditch to wait out the storm as spent bullets hissed past. Even this far removed from combat, they were not safe. Some of his companions wished to fight, to flee, or surrender. Being the ranking officer, Condite had to choose. Before he could though, the sound of approaching footsteps alarmed them.

Was it another enemy formation? Unable to tell, Condite crawled out to meet them. Inching towards the road, he was trampled by routed soldiers whom were being
shoved right back off by this formation. A thunderclap illuminated the field, showing their true identity, they were cats. Reinforcements have finally arrived, dispatched personally by Garfield to "investigate that awful noise."

They were cats being led by another colonel, singled out by wearing a hilarious folded newspaper hat which had turned soggy in the rain. Either he was off his rocker or just amusing, he still led from the front when Condite sprung from his hole to confront him, "What unit is this?" he asked, picking himself up from the muck. Soldiers in formation stared for they were spit and polish head to toe and this officer was muck and mud.

"The Black Cat Brigade, sir" came the response.

"Good, get in there, now!" he roared back, pointing towards the crater where hundreds of firefly lights showed that the contest was still happening.

"Sir, they are our last reserves!" the colonel responded, lament to do so,

"Our orders were to investigate what was happening..." stammering on.

"Send them in!" Condite roared.

Beaten down, the colonel switched his formation into a battle line on the road with two battalions on the East side and two on the West. At 2,000 strong, the Black Cat Brigade was thought to be the strongest unit in the whole Cat Rebel Army, trained and conditioned under Garfield's expression, they were, for a time, trained by his personal body guard in brutal tactics of interrogation and punishment. Stretched then to net fugitives, the line was a quarter of a mile long. It took precious minutes to get them into line and by then, routed soldiers constantly broke them up instead of going around.

"Move or you will be shot!" officers threatened.

Still, Condite couldn't understand why this brigade didn't go in. Answer was simple, the colonel was confused. He was spell bound by all the lights and could differentiate friend from foe. Hundreds of figures were jumping, running, and walking here and there, within easy rifle range. When that died away for a moment, several sillouhettes appeared much closer to his front. Alarmed, the commanding officer stepped forward with his aide, "Who goes there?" he asked.

His response was a series of rounds that went harmlessly overhead. Even so, the officer scurried for cover in the ditch as his unit loaded, aimed, and fired it's first volley, spraying a thick fog the enveloped the field briefly. When it dissipated moments later, not a single figure was to be had in the rain. Satisfied that they had dealt a crippling blow, the cats prepared to launch their delayed counter attack, only to hear a loud roar then see dogs spring up from behind a rise and come right for them, Calvin in the very lead waving a beanie over his head, face smeared with gunpowder, shouting at the top of his lungs. Hurriedly reloading their pieces, the cats began to grow antsy as their foe just kept coming closer the closer. "The very ground shook under their beating paws" one soldier noted. They were only able to get off one more fruitless volley before their antagonists were on top of them, striking with a loud crash like a thousand falling timbers. Knots of contestants broke away
from formations, beginning to tango in the muddy field in a feeding frenzy that last but moments, yet seemed like eternity. Calvin literally collided with one soldier and pinned him to the ground, only to have a slab of mud slapped in his face. Rearing back, the cat escaped. Angered, Calvin picked up a discarded rifle and sought new prey as the Black Cats began to break up and fall back towards the clusters of outhouses and buildings of the suburbs.

With victory in his grasp, Calvin cheered his force on, "Let's go at it! Get them! Kill them!" and they were, in droves. Prisoners were also taken, but it was rare. Little quarter was asked or recieved. As dogs pushed further and further inward, deeper into Garfield's defensive perimeter, resistance crumbled as cats fled through alleyways and through the very streets until officers,even some fromGarfield's staff ultimately saved the day in forming nets of shoulder to shoulder guards. When fright subsided, cats began to fight back usingstout brick, multistory buildings, succeeding containing this break through as Calvin urged on his fatigued soldiers.

"They are broken and running!" he yelled, "They will keep running if we press them." But, it was hopless. Every thing was against them. Too exhausted to go on, unwilling to go back, soldiers began to dig in right where they were, some had the benefit to find abandoned dwellings to wait out till morning while most had to linger in the trenches and forts with very little to eat and mounds of dead cluttering them, and wounded howling in their ears.

Naive Garfield had no knowledge on the outcome of this battle. Staff officers were absent yet he had no control over what to do. Messengers bearing bad news never reached him, or any news for that matter.In fact, the Leader, though knowing of a conflict, did little to actually lead, just dispatching one brigade to investigate. Staff members went out on their own accord to see for themselves, that was it. From then on, he sat on a beach chair, watching the lights dance around in the distance. Sitting at his side, under guard, was his prisoner, Kari.

"My will is strong, but we our stronger!" he smiled at her, "Now my little Kari, all you have to do is simply bow to me and you will no longer be confined to chains."

"Never"

"Oh, believe me. I have ways of making you change your mind." He smiled, touching her thigh.

Returning to a now extinct fight, Hobbes's head appeared from his safe haven. He hadn't moved an inch since this all began, yet, around him were several impact marks from bullets. It was pitch dark, and figures were moving about all around him. Now would be a chance to rejoin the dogs, his mind was full of valuable intelligence on defenses, and yet, he froze. He couldn't go back. Those dogs were pumped, shooting or killing anything that resembled a cat. Drawn by will and duty, Hobbes decided to wait it out elsewhere, find a place to hunker down till the heat died off, then try and rejoin Calvin or Dilger later.

"See you later, ol' buddy" he mumbled to himself, climbing out of his hole, disappearing into the darkness...