KND Chronicles: INVASION

by 141FTW

For years the KND has fought an endless battle against the tyranny of adults. Now with the return of their greatest hero, Nigel Uno, victory seems all but assured. But unbeknownst to the KND, a storm is on the horizon. War is coming, a war unlike any Earth has ever seen before, with an enemy that has waited over a thousand years to exact it's vengeance against the adults.

22. Chapter 22: The Changing of the Guard

Well, I was hoping to get more than a single chapter out before the end of the year, but that didn't happen, god I suck at this. Well, looks like this story is going to run into 2016 now. Jesus, its been almost 4 years since I started this story, I really should be done by now. I can guarantee this story will be finished this year, where I go after that though, I'm not so sure right now.

Unfortunately as time goes on KND stories continue to decrease in prevalence and the overall community continues to shrink, I'm really hoping that reboot/spinoff comes soon or Warburton won't have much to build off. I feel like offering a salute here to the few writers left who still write KND FF, here's to keeping the fight going guys! The Kids Next Door never quit!

Alright, time to address the review(s):

Dominic200: Great to know I'm still surpassing your expectations and seriously man, thanks for sticking with me this long.

Now for the follows and the favorites. Thank you to NandNvg, EdyGOD and surviversp for following the story, thank you to Fire Dragon of Miracles and Demigod wars for favoriting, and thank you to slickman, Alex876, Alice's Sister and TheBloodySisters for favoriting and following, seriously guys you are the reason why I keep writing these.

Well now on with the show:

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"We must adjust to changing times and still hold to unchanging principles."- Jimmy Carter, 39th US President

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C.W.S. Mandate: Engaged in Combat with Adult Flotilla above Alaska Base

Arthurs regarded the tactical display in front of him. For this particular engagement he had opted to consolidate his forces into a single, square shaped formation, with the Mandate at the center. Not only did this provide overlapping fields of fire, but his vessels would be able to concentrate their guns on incoming targets from all angles. He glanced at the adult's formation, their corvettes had divided into seven arrowhead formations of three, arranged in two rows with the larger on the bottom. The strike carriers in the rear had formed a single line and were continuing to launch fighter and bomber squadrons, which had begun to form small clouds around the corvette formations.

Arthurs scratched his chin and began keying in commands on the tactical display, which would automatically be relayed to the captains of the other ships in the formation. The holographic display showed the width and breadth of the entire battlefield, he could even pick out troop movements on the ground if he scrolled in close enough. He scrolled over to the ground force contingent, content to see that the troop carriers were finally pulling away from the battle, well protected behind the forward elements of his flotilla. He opened up a channel to the commander of the siege division below.

"Sub-commander", he ordered, "I want your walkers to throw up an AA barrage, disrupt their fighter movements." The sub-commander flashed an acknowledgement signal, moments later the vast array of AA guns on the siege walkers below turned their muzzles skyward and let loose a sustained volley of high velocity rounds, followed by streams of plasma-flak. The waves of AA fire buzzed around the adult ships, scattering the clouds of aircraft swarming around them. Arthurs grinned, "deploy interceptor squadrons", he ordered, "walker command, maintain AA barrage."

Across the fleet, Confederate fighter craft zipped out of their hangers and swooped into formation in front of the flotilla. "Adult corvettes advancing, staggered line formation", called out the com officer. Arthurs manipulated the interface with his hands, blowing up the image of the adult formation, "interceptors move to engage enemy air forces, all ships hold position and prepare to commence first volley of fire." Out in the skies beyond, the flotilla's interceptors zipped across the skies at super sonic speeds, hunting down the scattered remnants of the adult fighter squadrons. Small black clouds began erupting all across the sky, marking the deaths of allied and enemy aircraft alike.

Arthurs shifted the display to focus on the two lines of advancing capital ships. "Energy spikes across the formation", one of the other officers called out, "they are charging their primary weapons!" "Forward shields to maximum power", ordered Arthurs, "main batteries lock targets and prepare to fire!" "Energy discharge detected, time to impact, twenty seconds!" "All ships fire at will", commanded Arthurs, with a wave of his hand. Outside, high velocity shells and bursts of laser fire blasted out from the Confederate formation and zipped towards the adult line. Mandate shuddered slightly as the first impacts hit home, "direct hit, forward shields down to 50% and holding", reported the watch officer. "Registering multiple hits across the fleet", called out the com officer, "all ships report shield decreases in the range of 50-75%, no hull damage reported." Damn, those ships are packing, Arthurs raged internally.

On the display, the fleet's counter barrage slammed into the adult formation, but the smaller corvettes were faster and more nimble than the Confederacy's larger frigates. Most escaped unscathed, save for two; one corvette was caught in a flurry of laser blasts and sustained heavy damage across it's forward sections, another was hit head on by a rail-slug, the primitive energy fields surrounding it snapping in an instant, before the tiny vessel was gutted stem to stern. 2-0, I'll take those numbers, thought Arthurs, reviewing the tactical display. "Adult strike carriers are launching missiles", alerted the weapon's officer, "full spread!" "Concentrate fire on their forward formation", ordered Arthurs, "our point defenses can handle them." "They aren't aiming for us sir", cried out the weapon's officer in confusion, "tracking now... They're targeting the siege division!"

"Redirect fire", exclaimed Arthurs hastily, "get a barrage up NOW!" He reopened the line to the division below, "sub-commander you have incoming, redirect point-defense fire!" The sub-commander barely managed to flash an acknowledgment before the first wave slammed into his position and his signal cut out. "We've lost contact with the command platform", exclaimed the com officer, "moderate to light damage across all platforms, they are ceasing bombardment!" "Status on the shield", demanded Arthurs, "still holding steady", came the reply. Arthurs swore profusely, "redirect bomber squadrons, I want those carriers crippled now!" The com officer turned around in his chair, "without AA cover from the siege division, the adult fighter squadrons are reforming. Our bombers can't get through!" Arthurs snarled, "this base is starting to become more trouble than its worth!"

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Ancient KND Central Command Bunker: Main Command Deck

"I FORBID IT", screamed the Praetor, "I REFUSE TO EVEN CONSIDER IT!" Schmitt rolled his eyes, "well what do you expect me to do with them? I'm not letting them wander around the base!" "Don't we get a say in this", asked Monty innocently. "NO", yelled the two commanders. "It's out of the question", asserted Frederick adamantly, "I will not allow adults to bear witness to such an important ceremony!" "Well what if they weren't adults", offered Schmitt, turning to the pair in question. "You, Father, you can shape shift, can't you?" Benedict shrugged, "I could if I HAD my powers, but I don't right now thanks to you!" Schmitt raised an eyebrow, "and if I gave them back to you?" "Then yes I could", mused Benedict, "I suppose I could shape myself into what I looked like as a youth."

"Fine then", agreed Schmitt, raising his arm, palm open, "I've lifted the barriers I imposed on your mind, so go ahead and shape shift." Father flicked out a hand and a small flame appeared in his palm, he narrowed his eyes. "AND", continued Schmitt, meeting his stare, "if you so much as TWITCH in the wrong direction, I will wipe your smug face all over the walls, with one hand behind my back!" Father sneered and was encased in an aura of golden light, "fine, have it your way, boy." The light vanished and where Father had stood, now stood a small boy, clothed in a rather outdated fashion. Monty stared wide eyed at him, "I didn't know you could do that! You look just like you did forty years ago!" "Back when we were still pappy's slaves", muttered Father in his new squeaky, pre-pubescent voice, "don't remind me Monty." He jerked a finger at him, "so boy, what about my lummox of a brother, eh? He can't shape shift, so what are we gonna do about him?"

Schmitt tossed Monty his holographic camouflage band, "wear this", he ordered, "it'll do for now." Monty eyed the small black device, "and what is this supposed to do?" "It'll project a solidified hologram around your form", explained Schmitt, "camouflaging your appearance and your current outfit. Fortunately for us, the Legion was a bit more relaxed when it came to ages than the KND, and your just short enough to pass as an overweight teenager." Monty raised an eyebrow, "am I now? So I just slip it on like this?" He slapped it onto his wrist and hit a few buttons experimentally before being encased in an aura of light. When the light faded, Monty's features had grown quite younger, he'd lost his bald spot and most of his facial hair. He was also wearing what looked like an oversized KND Moonbase uniform. Monty looked down at his new threads, "can't say I like this look", he mused.

"It'll keep you from getting shot", Schmitt deadpanned, "that's all that matters." He turned to the Praetor, "good enough?" "They're still technically adults", grumbled Frederick, "whether they look like that or not." "That's debatable", mused Schmitt, "especially for the fat one." Frederick passed a hand over his eyes, "look, I don't want this turning into a debate on the finer points of adultism, I just believe that traditionally, this is wrong." "I agree", admitted Schmitt, "but what's worse? Letting them watch one of our traditional, martial ceremonies or giving them free reign to explore one of our most advanced military bases?" Frederick groaned, "you make a good point. FINE, they can watch."

Schmitt snapped his fingers and a hologram of Ares appeared next to him, "it's settled then. Now there are preparations to be made, so we will each to our own. You will go wake the legionaries, I'll assist the Commander and her...", he looked at Nigel, "first officer, in their end of the preparations." "What about the adults", demanded Frederick, Schmitt indicated the hologram next to him, "Ares will escort them to the staging area." "Along with us right", asked Numbah 2, "no, I've got something else for you guys", admitted Rachel, "you're going to check out this project IronWing, see if its flyable." Frederick whirled on Schmitt, "YOU TOLD THEM ABOUT THAT!" "Of course", admitted Schmitt, "we're going to need it, there aren't enough airships left here to transport the whole legion after all." Frederick sneered, "you assume your commander here will win." Schmitt shrugged, "win or lose, one side is going to need it."

"So...", cut Numbah 2, "how do we get there?" "Ares here will lead the way", Schmitt gestured at the AI and another hologram popped into existence beside the first, "he's a great multi-tasker. Now then lets get to it." The four groups strode out of the stasis bay and went their separate ways, each heading down a different corridor further into the base. "First off", began Schmitt, as he led them down through the base, "the commander is going to need new clothes and weapons for this event." "I can fight just as well in this", asserted Rachel stubbornly, "besides, KND officers don't have any use for ostentation." Schmitt raised an eyebrow, "fine, however", he eyed the S.C.A.M.P.P. on her back, "you'll want something with a bit more of an edge than that, long range weapons won't be allowed after all."

He led them further into the base, eventually stopping before a large vaulted door with the words "Armor Station D5" stamped onto it in large white letters. He typed some codes into the adjacent access pad and the door cycled open to reveal a vast array of weaponry, ranging from guns to swords to even more exotic armaments, lined up on racks stretching back towards the far wall. Between the racks were niches in the wall which held stacks and stacks of body armor, boots and combat helmets. Schmitt swept his arm across the room, "find something to your liking, I'll be back in a few minutes." Rachel raised an eyebrow, "and where are you going?" Schmitt was already leaving, but he called over his shoulder, "to find a change of clothes, I don't intend on walking around in a singed uniform all day."

He disappeared down the hallway and the door closed behind him, leaving the two alone with the racks of weapons. Nigel shrugged and began picking through a pile of what looked like glaives, except they had rifles built into their poles, "this stuff looks a little... excessive, don't you think?" Rachel scooped up a battered helmet from one of the various piles and stared through it's narrow eye-slits, "its an interesting cross between classic and modern I'll give it that", she remarked, dropping the helmet back onto the pile. Nigel brought over a stack of swords from one of the racks, "one of these then? I've never seen you use a sword before though, do you know how?" Rachel picked one up at random and twirled it around experimentally, feeling the weight, before letting loose with a few quick jabs and slashes. Nigel grinned wryly, "guess that answers my question." Rachel dropped the sword back into his arms, "not really my style though, do they have any staffs?"

"Let me check", Nigel dumped the swords on one of the nearby tables and headed to the back of the room. Something caught his eye as he browsed the racks of weapons, a discarded sword hilt, dark black metal with deep purple highlights. He picked it up and ran his hand over the edge, no break marks, he mused to himself, so it was made only as a hilt? Strange choice.

He noticed a small grove set into the grip, but Rachel interrupted his thought process before he could examine it any further. "You find anything", she called out from behind a rack of pikes, "nope not yet", he called back, pocketing the hilt for later inspection. He continued browsing the racks of weapons and was busy inspecting a small collection of short stubby auto-rifles when something made him pause.

"Rachel", he began, hesitantly, "are you sure about this?" "About what", demanded Rachel, picking through more of the weapon racks, "fighting the Praetor?" "Well yeah", exclaimed Nigel, "I mean I know how good you are, but lets be honest, you're a desk officer, you aren't used to single combat, and this guy... Who knows how much combat experience he has! I just don't know if..." "If I can beat him", finished Rachel. She raised an eyebrow, "you aren't doubting me, are you soldier?" Nigel ground his teeth, "look, maybe you could name a champion like the Praetor suggested?" "Look, Nigel", chided Rachel, "I can handle this guy on my own. Besides, this is about more than just settling some code of honor, this is about authority. I'm the Supreme Commander, the KND is my command, my responsibility, and that means ALL of the KND."

"That's not the issue", exclaimed Nigel, heatedly, "this guy is a trained killer! He's not going to pull his punches like Father or the teens because we're kids! He could kill you!" "You think I don't know that", snapped Rachel angrily, "you think I don't know what I'm getting myself into? But this is something that has to be done, I'm the Supreme Commander, this is my responsibility!" "Is that all this is about", demanded Nigel, "stubborn pride!? Command rank isn't worth dying for!" "You know its more than that, Rachel was practically yelling at him at this point, "why? Why are you being so difficult about this!" "BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO LOSE YOU", screamed Nigel. Rachel froze and all the anger drained from her face, she just stood there, mouth open, staring at him. Nigel sat down on one of the stacks of armor and put his head in his hands, "you remember back at the Arctic Base, when we were ambushed by Confederate soldiers. I killed that boy. I KILLED him, and he was going to kill me. I saw my life flash before my eyes, I thought I was done for." Nigel removed a hand from his head and stared down at it, "in the KND, dying never seemed like something to be worried about, but now... Every day more people die, every battle we lose more of our friends, more comrades, more of the people we love." He looked up at Rachel, tears forming in his eyes, "and there's nothing I can do about it! I can't protect them, but I can protect you, so why won't you let me!"

Nigel hung his head and tried to hold back his tears. Then he felt something soft and fuzzy against his face and a comforting pressure on his shoulders. He opened his eyes and was greeted with the blaze orange fuzz of Rachel's sweater. She hugged his head tightly to her chest and laid her head softly on his shoulders. "Damn this war", she whispered softly, "damn it." They remained that way for several minutes before finally parting. As they stared at each other through watery eyes, Rachel tried to smile, "you don't have to protect me Nigel, we're partners, we protect each other. And enough of this talk about dying, I'm not leaving anytime soon and neither are you." She sat down on next to him and give him a light tap on the forehead, "at least not this time anyway." That defused the mood a little and Nigel grinned sheepishly, though it was still tinged by sadness, "yes sir." Rachel giggled a little and gave him a gentle punch on the arm, "jeez Nigel, lighten up! And I thought we agreed no more formalities!" That really put a grin on Nigel's face, "yeah, so we did."

Nigel looked at all the weapons surrounding them, "we can never go back, can we. Things will never be the same after this, whether we win, or lose." Rachel sighed, "looks that way, guess we all have to grow up sometime though, right?" Rachel noticed a wistful expression cross his face, "what is it?" "Just thinking of better times", Nigel finally smiled and jumped to his feet, "thinking back on those time gives me an idea, come on!" The pair went to work, tinkering away in the back of the armory. Several minutes passed before the door behind them cycled open and Schmitt strode back into the room, garbed in a fresh Legion uniform much like the Praetor's, however over this he was wearing a black greatcoat and had on a stone grey field cap. "I totally forget I had all this stuff lying around in my old office", was the first thing he said as he walked in.

He eyed the small pile of cannibalized weaponry and combat uniforms and shook his head, "you guys really can't help yourselves when it come to the improvisation thing can you?" "Its traditional", remarked Rachel with a small smile. She held up the fruits of their labor, "so what do you think?" Schmitt eyed the exotic piece of weaponry, "I think you took a quarterstaff, and welded a sharpened ballistic plate to one end." He looked at other side, "and you taped a boxing glove to the other end... cute." Rachel twirled it around experimentally, "Nigel was able to get the weight down just right." Schmitt rolled his eyes, "ok then... I was hoping for something more standardized, but you are KND I guess." Then he noticed their red cheeks and watery eyes, "have you two been crying", he asked slowly. Nigel and Rachel looked at each other, "uhhhh", they both droned. Schmitt groaned and turned towards the door, "never mind, everything is in place and ready for your arrival. Now hurry up, we don't want to keep them waiting!"

Almost as an afterthought, he reached into his pocket and tossed both of them a square of cloth, "and for god's sake clean yourselves up, you want to look presentable for the brass." Schmitt led them out of the armor station and down the passageway. There was more activity in the base now, power could be heard humming in the walls as the bunker's ancient systems reactivated and further down the corridors Nigel could hear the tramp of feet and the murmur of hushed voices as newly awakened Legionnaires rushed about. In spite of this, they encountered no one as they made their way through the base. As they passed over a particular spot, Nigel could feel slight tremors in the floor and if he strained his ears, he could here gunfire and the retort of laser weaponry from far below. Schmitt noticed it as well, he glanced down at the floor, "Ares is toying with them, I'd hoped he'd end this quickly, but I can't deny him his fun after so long." "You really aren't worried at all about the Confederates are you", remarked Rachel, hustling along behind him.

Schmitt adjusted his cap, "during the Revolution, this base withstood the full might of the adult military for over four months before falling. These walls have endured far worse than anything a token Confederate strike force can hope to achieve." "I'm less worried about the base and more worried about us", remarked Rachel, "what if they make their way to the upper levels?" "They won't", promised Schmitt adamantly, "Ares will stop them, besides, they didn't come for anything up here, otherwise they would have exited further above. No, I suspect they came here for what's in the Vault." Any further conversation on this point ended abruptly as they reached their destination, which was apparently a massive steel door, with a high, vaulted ceiling. "Ready yourselves", ordered Schmitt, "and try to look dignified please." He used his powers to flick the activation switch on the far wall and the massive doors cycled open to reveal the assembly beyond.

After Schmitt's description and the Praetor's appearance, Rachel had been expecting something more standardized and utilitarian. Instead what greeted her eyes was a colorful plethora of flowing robes, gleaming suits of armor and ornate headdresses as far as the eye could see. There was a pattern to it, no doubt about that. Far more of the officers were garbed in armor with red and yellow sashes, while only a handful seemed to be wearing robes. Headdresses varied between what she assumed were ranks, most wore simple helmets, though many had bright red plumes sticking out, others wore golden bands studded with jewels and small crystals, while still others wore tasseled caps with colorful feathers and quills stuck in their brim. Here and there she did see a peaked cap or a greatcoat, but by and large the crowd's fashion was dominated by more exotic pieces.

She also noticed that there were almost as many boys as girls present, apparently the Legion cared little for gender discrimination like some of the other former KNDs. Most of the officers present were armed as well, either with small stubby pistols on their hips or with swords belted at their waists. There had been a steady chatter of conversation flowing through the crowd before they entered, but as soon as the doors ground open, all chatter ceased and all eyes turned to the newcomers. "SUMMOVENDUM", barked Schmitt and the crowd of officers parted to make way for the group. Rachel saw a great deal of expressions, some disdainful, others curious, but by far the most of them were surprised. Many of those looks were directed towards the unusual weapon she had gripped in her right hand. She knew that all of them were evaluating her at this point, and they'd be judging her every action from this point on. Rachel didn't give a damn. She strode through the room like she already owned the place, not giving a single glance at the crowd around her, her gaze was fixated on the single obstruction standing before her: the Praetor.

The Praetor was waiting for her at the center of the crowd, in the middle of what looked like a telescoping platform for moving aircraft and materials to the surface. The platform was rectangular with curved edges, and had been raised a few feet off the ground, no doubt to act as a makeshift dueling ring of sorts. Off to the side near the Praetor's right were Monty and Benedict, still concealed beneath their respective forms of camouflage. They too were attracting some odd looks, but the majority of the attention was focused on her right now. She crossed the threshold of the small circle surrounding the makeshift arena and stepped onto the platform. Schmitt and Nigel moved off to the side to stand on the edge of the crowd. The Praetor greeted her with a nod and then raised his hands to the crowd, "now that we're all assembled, let us begin."

He surveyed the crowd around them, "I'm sure you all have a lot of questions, so let me bring you up to date on current events." He took a moment to compose himself before continuing, "I have no accurate idea of the current date, only that seven hundred years have passed since the day we entered stasis." That sent a murmur running through the crowd, several officers let out exclamations of shock, followed by a barrage of questions. "SILENCE", demanded the Praetor, and all noise ceased immediately, "I understand your concerns, but we have more pressing matters to attend to. Now then...", he continued, "from what I know, after the war, the survivors aboard the lunar project successfully escaped to the moon, but then returned to the Earth several years later to make peace with the adults. The adults pretended to honor this peace, but instead slowly absorbed and repressed our old imperial values, indoctrinating the survivors into their new society. A few survivors of the war escaped and formed a new organization that has stood the test of time and continued our battle for freedom across the ages."

"These", he indicated Rachel and the others, "are the latest members of the newest generation of the KND." The attitude of the crowd shifted towards one of curiosity as many of the officers at the farther edges of the crowd pushed forward to get a closer look at the operatives. "They look weird", one of the robed officers stated bluntly, "what kind of uniforms are those anyway", demanded an boy with a red-plumed helmet. The Praetor gestured for Rachel to speak, and she gingerly stepped forward to face the crowd, "my name is Rachel T. McKenzie", she began, "and I am the current Supreme Commander of the Kids Next Door." "Why 'Next Door'", demanded the boy with the plumed helmet, but he was shouted down by a girl with a scarlet cape, "why is the war with the adults not over yet!"

"That's... a difficult question to answer", responded Rachel carefully, "the war has 'ended' several times, with both the KND and the adults victorious. However, both sides always rebuild and come back in the end. Honestly, the war hasn't ended because neither side will give up." "What does giving up have to do with it", demanded the girl, "I want to know why you kids haven't exterminated the adults yet! You had seven hundred years after all!" "Exterminated...", Rachel faltered slightly, but the Praetor stepped in to explain, "the KND of today is not like our old empire. They have a much more... light handed way of fighting the war, as do the adults. From what I am to understand very little killing goes on these days."

A murmur of discontent swept through the crowd, "what kind of war is this", demanded the red-plumed boy again, "a war without killing? Without victory? What kind of world have we come back to!?" The scarlet caped girl stepped forward, "well even if that is all true, why has there been no uprising? Why have the masses of children today not thrown off the shackles of adult society and joined you in this glorious revolution?" These guys aren't going to understand what adults today are like, thought Rachel frantically, how am I supposed to explain that most kids have no problem living under adult rule?! Heck, how am I supposed to explain the concept of "good" adults?! "The KND is much smaller these days than I'm led to believe it used to be", Rachel chose her words with care, "and too many kids these days are born into adult families not knowing any better, its impossible for us to reach them all, we make do with the ones we can save." The girl with the scarlet cape looked downtrodden, "then the adults have the upper hand these days, its as I feared."

"We're not here to debate the ways of our new world", Frederick cut in, his voice booming across the crowd, "nor are we here to mourn the loss of our old imperial values. We are here to address a major issue facing us and the entire world, right now." All eyes in the room were on him now, "from what I have learned from our new... members, the KND of today is facing a global invasion by a massive army from another world." Whispers of shock and disbelief swept through the crowd like lightening, some of the more high ranked officers began shouting accusations at the Praetor. Frederick clasped his hands behind his back and this time, ignored the outbursts, "this army is comprised entirely of children and has descended upon the Earth seemingly with the sole purpose of taking complete control of the planet. To this end they have crushed all resistance against their rule, both adult and kid alike. In spite of this I have reason to believe, from first hand intelligence provided, that this army is comprised of the descendants of the old Directorate and its arrival now signals the start of the prophesied era where the scions of the KMD will return and exact vengeance upon the Earth for their destruction at the end of the Great War!"

Stunned silence reigned after that proclamation, as the officers digested what he had just said. The Praetor held out his hands to the crowd, "the commander here however, disagrees. She believes that it is our place to fight for this world and protect it's inhabitants, kid and adult alike." The crowd erupted into frenzy of chattering voices and furious outbursts as the officers began arguing amongst themselves. As Rachel had anticipated, a great deal of the officers seemed to be taking the Praetor's side, most vocal of which was the girl in the red cape, "we gave up everything", she yelled, "our honor, our dignity and our comrades, all for this one chance at revenge, and now you people have the gall to ask us to fight FOR THEM!" "And you think siding with the Old Directorate will be any better", countered the boy with the red plumed helmet, "if we allow them their 'vengeance' they'll only ravage the world again like in the first war! What will be left for us to inherit then?!"

"SILENCE", demanded Frederick again, "I understand your arguments and your mixed opinions on this matter, however, this issue is not one that will be decided by discussion and vote. We are the Legion, not the Senate. We act, we fight, we settle our disputes in only one fashion! Through combat!" A roar of approval swept through the crowd along with a flurry of raised fists and cries of, "PROELIUM, PROELIUM!" "The commander here has challenged my right to command, so we will settle this debate in the realm of honorable combat", explained Frederick, "and in accordance with our traditions the winner shall be named the commander of both the old and new KND." Frederick raised his hands to the crowd, "we will let fate decide our path!"

"In accordance with Legion tradition", spoke up Schmitt, "you will each be allowed two weapons, one primary and one backup. No ranged, explosive or throwing weapons are allowed. Neither is body armor or any other forms of protection besides basic field uniforms." That said, the Praetor began detaching his pauldrons, greaves and bracers, handing them off to one of the many officer's ringing the platform. Rachel suddenly realized that she didn't have a backup weapon on her, not even a wooden stick. She mentally kicked herself for not grabbing another edged weapon from the armory, and glanced over at Nigel for support, but he too was coming up empty. However, he seemed to remember something, reaching into his pocket, he tossed her the black metal sword hilt he'd found back in the armory.

She shot him a confused glance, what am I supposed to do with this, her expression demanded. Nigel shrugged and gave her a thumbs up, she sighed and pocketed the piece of metal. "Both commanders prepare for battle", commanded Schmitt. Rachel and the Praetor retreated to opposite ends of the platform, the Praetor drew and flourished his sword while Rachel hefted and twirled her staff. They both locked eyes. "The rules are simple", continued Schmitt, "the first to draw blood from their opponent is the victor. As custom dictates, I am supposed to remind you that the amount of blood does not matter."

Nigel leaned over to whisper in Schmitt's ear, "and why is that?" Because as you've probably already guessed, these duels tend to only end with one survivor, Schmitt thought to Nigel, who immediately went pale. Schmitt ignored him, he raised his hand and slammed it down, "this duel, may begin!" With those final words, the two commander launched themselves at each other and the battle to decide the fate of the KND began.

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Ancient KND Central Command Bunker: Sub-level #8

Ares hadn't been lying when he said it would hurt. Kreller grimaced as he took a stun round to the side, at least the body armor absorbed most of the blow, but that didn't stop the electric shock that followed directly afterwards. At least he had armor though, most of his men were wearing simple body plate over field fatigues, and that hadn't helped the twelve or so unlucky bastards that had already taken direct hits. Most of them lay sprawled out on the ground, utterly unconscious. Because of the lack of cover, many of the soldiers still standing had snatched up the bodies of their fallen comrades to use as human shields.

Kreller was firing on full auto with both guns, laying in a thick wall of laser fire into the advancing security droids. But damn were they built well, he was expending entire magazines just put pairs of them down and he was pretty positive he would run out of ammo long before Ares ran out of droids. Ares however, seemed to be growing impatient as the mechanized onslaught intensified with more and more units pouring out of hidden recesses in the walls. We can't hold out like this or we'll be torn to shreds! "Grenades", Kreller ordered, "clear us a path!" A trio of cluster grenades bounced down the hallway and split open with a tremendous crack, followed by a second and third, forth and fifth as the secondary explosives within lit off. The corridor was immediately filled with shrapnel and smoke, though it mattered little to Kreller, his helmet's optical sensors could pierce the cloud just fine.

The grenades had done their job, a small hole had been opened in the enemy lines, though he knew it was only temporary. "FORWARDS", he bellowed over the com net, "straight up the middle, and don't stop for anything!" His remaining troops obeyed without question, all of them still subconsciously covering the package with their bodies as they rushed through the gap. The droids were a fraction of a second too slow to respond and all of Kreller's men made it through before they could redirect their fire. None of them looked back though, they pounded down the corridors like the end of the world was on their heels, never slowing down for a second. They quickly lost sight of the defense droids within the twists and turns of the bunker. Ares however, wasn't giving up so easily.

As they ran, automated defense turrets popped out of hidden slots in the walls and began peppering them with laser fire. Several of Kreller's remaining men were caught by surprise and went down under a hail of energy bolts. The remainder sprinted on past, pausing only for the slightest moment to let off a burst of return fire. Suddenly a steel barrier slammed down across the corridor, blocking the way ahead. Kreller was unperturbed, "ROCKETS", he yelled into his helmet mike. Without slowing, two of his spec-ops troopers unslung and shouldered the compact missile tubes they had brought along, leveling them at the barrier ahead. Kreller heard the muted coughs of the twin launchers from behind him, followed by a pair of streaking projectiles that leaped over his head and spiraled towards the obstruction ahead. The missiles met at the apex of their spin, slamming home into the barrier and blowing straight through the reinforced metal plating. Kreller and his troops leapt through the newly made opening without breaking stride.

Another hologram of Ares materialized in front of Kreller, easily keeping level with the squad's frantic pace. He looked quite amused, "well you definitely don't disappoint Colonel. I must admit, you are quickly exhausting my arsenal of non-lethal countermeasures." "Can't you just piss off", snarled Kreller. Ares arched an eyebrow, "so impatient, what is it you hope to accomplish with this anyway? It doesn't matter, this will be over soon." Ares vanished and another barrier snapped down in front of Kreller's team. Another wall, thought Kreller, I expected better from a Battle Conductor. Then he noticed the silvery sheen oozing across the barrier, "oh hell-", was all he managed before the ooze burst into a twirling, silvery cloud that began zipping through the air towards his men like a swarm of bees. "NANITE SWARM", screamed Hysis, also recognizing the silvery, dust-like cloud. "Back", ordered Kreller frantically, "everybody back!"

The remains of the squad turned on their heels and bolted back down the corridor, a few of them were just a little too slow however. A pair of Confederate regulars at the front waited a few seconds too long to turn around and the swarm pounced on them from behind. Kreller heard the crack of bones and snapping of metal as the swarm coated their bodies and began to constrict their arms and legs, effectively maiming them. Despite the grisly nature of the takedowns, he knew they were getting off easy, he'd seen those silvery swarms do far worse to men during the war.

Kreller's squad hung a right before the destroyed barrier, where they could see Ares' defense drones beginning to force their way through, and barreled down the corridor. Behind them the swarm finished it's work and began to buzz after them. A few soldiers at the back took pot shots at the silvery mass, but it was like trying to fight off a dust storm. We need a flamethrower, thought Kreller frantically. As they raced down the corridor they could see more barriers closing off the adjacent access ways one by one. He's sealing us in, realized Kreller, right as another barrier crashed down right in front of them. His squad had only brought the two rockets, he hadn't thought to bring more for an underground op, so instead they hung another right and kept going. Kreller could see another barrier ahead of them, just before it could close he unhooked his helmet and tossed it under the doorframe. The barrier slammed down and stopped a good foot or so from the floor, Kreller grinned.

Without his helmet he couldn't issue orders over the com-net, but his men knew what to do. They power slid under the barrier, one after the other, Dickson had to pause for a second to toss the package under before following suit. Kreller was the last under, as he slid by he snatched his helmet out from under the metal slab and the barrier snapped down, sealing the swarm on the other side. Kreller whipped out his sidearm and put three rounds into the control circuit in the wall, effectively cutting it off from Ares control. He allowed himself a minute to catch his breath and take in his surroundings. The corridor had deposited them in a large circular room, a vertical cylinder that seemed to act as manual access to the other levels of the base. They were just off the edge of a small landing that overlooked the rest of the room, over the edge he could see another two or three floors reaching down towards the base of the room, and above that, another ten or so floors stretching up towards the ceiling. Staircases set into the walls led up and down to the adjacent floors.

He took a second to check on the status of his men, between Ares first attack and the ensuing chase, he'd lost twenty-five soldiers, all regulars, none of his squad had gone down thankfully. Not counting himself, that left the six of his squad and five regulars, hardly a good number. He sighed, "status report Hysis." "You're not going to like it", his Corporal huffed, "we exhausted over half of our ammunition in that battle, including our only two rockets. I have no doubt Ares hit the driller's position at the same time as ours, so reinforcements and additional supplies are out of the question. Ares will probably be redirecting forces to our position any second now and we're down over half of our men, so yeah." "Any good news", demanded Kreller frustratedly. "Well...", admitted Hysis wearily, "there is that", he jerked a thumb towards the lone data terminal on the other side of the room, set into a small niche on the far landing.

Kreller eyed the terminal with suspicion, "that seems a little too convenient. Why would Ares lead us towards a chamber with the exact thing we're looking for? He had to have overheard our conversation earlier." Hysis looked confused, "what do you mean lead, that door was a pretty strong indication he wanted to keep us out." Kreller shook his head, "you don't understand Battle Conductors, they always think three steps ahead and then three steps more just for safety. Ares wouldn't have had the swarm corner us at that specific door unless he had another plan in reserve."

"YOU ARE CORRECT OF COURSE", came the booming reply from the loudspeakers above. The squad immediately brought their weapons to bear, tracking left and right, searching for any sign of addition traps or threats. "YOU HAVE PUT UP QUITE THE FIGHT", continued the AI, "EVERYTHING I EXPECTED FROM DIRECTORATE FORCES AND MAYBE A LITTLE MORE. CERTAINLY THE LEGION FORCES OF THIS SO CALLED "KND" COULD NOT HOPE TO MATCH SUCH A PERFORMANCE." The AI materialized in front of the once more, "however", he continued in his normal voice, "the Autarch's affair above is beginning to draw to a close and he will be most displeased if I have not dispatched you by the time he is finished tying up loose ends." A creaking, clanking noise began to sound from far above, "I have already subdued a great deal of your number, more than enough to provide the Autarch with the answer's he desires, as a result, I no longer need to bring you in alive." The clanking noise above grew louder. Ares grinned smugly, "goodbye Colonel."

"What the hell is that noise", demanded Dickson, walking out to the edge of the platform. "No don't-", started Kreller, but he was too late, something from above swiped down and swept Chad off the platform, tossing him against the far wall as if he was as light as a pebble. The ex-KND officer met the concrete face first and was knocked out cold, but thankfully the lip of the landing prevented him from falling the two stories down to the bottom floor. "That better not be what I think it is", swore Hysis. Something big scuttled down from the wall above the landing, moving around the room with heavy, earth shaking footsteps, till it was on the other side of the cylinder. Only then did it come into view. It was a tank, a spider tank, it's six segmented legs firmly anchoring it to the walls of the stairwell. "Spydekraft", breathed Hysis, "you've got to be kidding me! He sent a goddamned tank?!"

The tank leveled the barrel of its main gun at the small group of Confederates. "SCATTER", roared Kreller, launching himself over the edge as the tank fired. The hyper-velocity shell ripped right through the metal barrier and whizzed down the corridor beyond, before finally burying itself in the far wall at the end. Fortunately, the tank's first shot injured no one, however, that had never been its purpose. Even as the impact of the blast shook the walls around them, the nanite swarm that had been waiting patiently in the hallway beyond, buzzed into the stairwell through the newly made entrance.

The silvery swarm immediately pounced on the troopers closest to the landing and set about its grisly work. Chaos erupted in the stairwell as the ten remaining members of Kreller's squad began to battle furiously against these twin threats, all the while, Ares watched from the security cameras above.

---

Ancient KND Central Command Bunker: Primary Deployment Bay

The two officers slammed into each other and began rapidly trading blows. The Praetor struck first with a powerful thrust that Rachel knocked aside with a single motion of her staff. She followed with a quick counterattack, swinging the edged end of her weapon around to sweep across the Praetor's chest. He saw it coming though and inverted his sword to block the slash before following up with one of his own. The battle quickly dissolved into an all out brawl, with the two combatants trading slash for slash, thrust for thrust. Rachel was smaller and more agile, her weapon had reach and gave her a strong defensive position. But the Praetor had speed and reflexes on his side, and his quick, darting thrusts quickly put her on the back foot.

Rachel noticed that he was fighting with a single hand behind his back, a fencer's stance, curious for someone who fights with a doubled edged arming sword, she thought. His weapon must have been incredibly light to allow for such a fighting style, still, with only one hand his blows were robbed of a great deal of their power, while she on the other hand could bring her full might to bear. She quickly demonstrated this by adjusting her grip on the staff and going in for a wide, two handed sweeping blow. The maneuver caught the Praetor off guard and he was poorly prepared to defend against it. Instead he jumped back a few paces, giving her a good deal of breathing room.

Rachel grinned, "you seem to have gotten a little sloppy in your old age", she quipped mockingly. The Praetor was not amused, "really", he retorted, "because if this is the best the KND can offer, I highly doubt you'll be of any use to us." He lunged forward, coming in for another quick thrust, Rachel moved to counter it, but at the last second, the Praetor shifted his footing. He vaulted over her and at the apex of his flight, his sword swooped down like an executioner's axe. She attempted to dodge, but was just a tad too late. She felt the cold steel gently kiss the side of her cheek, as it carved a shallow furrow across her face, as well as cleaving away a few tufts of golden hair.

The Praetor landed lightly behind her and flourished his sword as the tufts of her hair fluttered slowly to the ground. Rachel gently caressed her cheek, it was little more than a scratch, but it hurt like the deepest of paper cuts. Thankfully though there was no blood. She whirled around to face her enemy, but the Praetor was already on the move, darting around to her left and jabbing under her guard, intending to catch her by surprise. Rather than jumping back as he had, she swung her staff low and charged straight into his attack. She got lucky and manged to catch him in the chest with the gloved end of her staff. By shifting her weight, she managed to club him aside before his attack landed, throwing him off balance.

This opened up a small window of opportunity, as the Praetor tottered on the back foot for a few brief seconds. That was all the time she needed, Rachel dove forwards, bringing her staff in for another quick swipe across his chest. This time the blow connected and sent the old Imperial officer sprawling on the deck, the wind knocked from his lungs. The blow had ripped a gash in his uniform, and left a great bruise in the center of his chest, but still, there was no blood. The Praetor spat on the deck and wiped a line spittle from the corner of his mouth. He grinned, "not bad, you may be a bit of a challenge after all."

In a blur of motion he was on his feet again, but this time, he didn't charge directly at her, instead he began skirting around the edges of the arena. Every now and then he'd throw a quick darting thrust her way, but mainly he stayed out of her reach. Rachel quietly assessed her options, even as she continued to fight off his occasional strikes, he's definitely trying to bait me, but he doesn't look too badly injured, so he's most likely feinting in an attempt to draw me in...

Her train of thought was temporarily interrupted as she deflected a particularly sneaky underhand thrust. She decided it was time to start capitalizing on her weapon's superior length, darting towards the Praetor she followed his thrusts with a flurry of counter blows from the boxing glove end of her staff. This quickly put the Praetor on the back foot and he started to give ground. Slowly, she backed him up against one corner of the platform, intending to box him in. If she could just get him to the edge, she could rob him of his mobility and use her superior reach to start doing some real damage.

It probably would have worked to, if the Praetor hadn't suddenly grabbed the end of her staff and jerked it forward. He was wickedly strong and she had already put most of her momentum into the thrust before she saw it coming. She was yanked off her feet and flew through the air towards him. Her flight ended abruptly as the Praetor punched her in the face with the hilt of his sword, and the blow blew her back across the arena. She skidded to a halt on the edge of the platform, meanwhile, the Praetor tossed her staff over the side and began advancing on her. Rachel's face hurt like hell, her right eye was swollen shut and she was pretty sure that blow had knocked a tooth loose. She made sure not to spit in case there was any blood, before trying to take a knee.

She was just in time to see the Praetor's blade come flashing down towards her chest. She rolled out of the way and the blade screeched across the metal deck, trailing a shower of sparks. She knew she was pretty much screwed at this point, on the back foot with no weapon and half her visibility gone, not to mention the throbbing pain emanating from her right eye. On the outskirts of the arena, Nigel was beside himself with dread. He was just about to throw caution to the wind and jump into the arena himself when a firm hand clamped itself down on his shoulder.

He glared furiously at Schmitt, who was still watching the fight impassively from beside him. "Let me go", he half whispered, half growled, "I'm not letting this continue!" Schmitt glanced at him, "your commander made her choice, trust her judgement and stay out of it." "She's going to die", raged Nigel, "don't you care?!" Schmitt grip tightened, "if we interfere now, we forfeit the match and the KND goes to the Praetor. The only way Rachel walks out of there alive with the KND still intact is if she does it herself." Nigel gritted his teeth, "I can't just stand here and do nothing!" "You can and you will", Schmitt glanced at him, "if things get worse I can use my powers to trip up the Praetor a little but that's pretty much it, like Frederick said, we're going to have to let fate decide this one."

Nigel glanced fearfully back at the continuing battle. Rachel was on her feet again, but without a weapon, she was reduced to merely dodging the Praetor's attacks. Worse, she now had a blind spot, which Frederick was more than willing to exploit, and his blade nicked her more than a few times before she managed to weasel her way out of the corner. Thankfully they were just glancing blows, but damn if they didn't hurt. She whipped out the sword hilt Nigel had given her, it wasn't much, but at the very least she could copy the Praetor's tactic and use it to add some oomph to her punches.

She had to rap this up quick though, between her eye, the dislocated tooth in her mouth and the numerous bruises across her body, she wasn't going to last much longer. She shifted her grip on the sword hilt, and rushed towards the Praetor; the plan she settled on was a Numbah 4 classic, get him off balance one more time and then break his nose, so simple and yet so effective. She dashed straight at him, fast enough that he would think she wasn't going to stop, yet slow enough that she could still change direction.

The Praetor brought his guard up, ready to meet her charge. Then at the last second, she darted to the left and power slid past him. She'd used this sort of trick countless times against adults, both before and after she'd be made Supreme Commander, and it never failed to work. She could see it all now, the Praetor's suprised expression, the slight fumble as he hesitated to respond and finally, the counter attack that would whiz right over her head as she slid by to safety and victory.

Except he didn't hesitate. The Praetor immediately shifted his blade to the left to block her slide. The silver blade came down like a guillotine, neatly positioned right at neck height, ready for her momentum to do the rest. She frantically rolled to the side, missing the blade by mere millimeters, however, that didn't stop her momentum. She tumbled out of control for a few moments before coming to rest on her back, her bruises hurt like crazy and the right side of her face felt like it was on fire. Through her remaining eye, she saw the Praetor slowly advancing on her, blade at the ready.

Rachel tried to get up again, but the pain was too much this time. The Praetor came to a stop at her feet and stared down at her with a look of pity. On the edge of the arena, Nigel was having horrific flashbacks to the battle of the Arctic Base. Next to him, Schmitt subtly began flexing his fingers at his side, preparing to intervene. Frederick flourished his sword at his side, "well fought Supreme Commander, but it seems fate has made it's choice. I'm sure you understand what comes next, I of course, can't trust you to simply stand aside and let me take command." Rachel tried to respond, but the mixture of blood, spit and phlegm in her mouth kept her from opening it. The Praetor raised his sword over his head, "I promise I'll take good care of the KND in your absence", was the last thing he said before he brought it down.

---

Ancient KND Central Command Bunker: Sub-level #8

This day can't possibly get any worse, thought Kreller, as he flattened himself against the wall of the shaft to avoid the streams of tracer fire pouring out of the tank's coaxial guns. The two story fall had been an easy thing for his power armor to deal with, but the streams of armor shredding energy beams pouring out of the tank's guns were another matter. Directorate beam guns had been specifically engineered to make short work of even the most advanced armor systems, his Confederate issue stealth armor would be little better than a T-shirt against those weapons. Thankfully, the landings above had created a small overhang here at the bottom that the tank's guns could directly fire into, though it was definitely trying.

Hysis and two others were flattened to the wall next to him, the rest hadn't made it down in time. He could still hear them above, attempting to fight off the nanite swarm. "We are soooo screwed", groaned Hysis through the com net. "Keep that crap to yourself", growled Kreller, "we're not done yet!" "Have you forgotten", yelled Hysis", I was mechanized infantry, I used to drive those things! Composite titanium armor plating, automated anti-munitions arrays and a built in type four refractor field. We would need a RAIL GUN to even scratch that thing!" "We could try what the adults did during the war", suggested Kreller.

Hysis was not amused, "it took twenty adult soldiers at best to pull that stunt off, we're barely ten!" Kreller was about to reply, when he saw something out of the corner of his eye that made him grin. It was, Chad clambering over the upper landing, plasma grenades in both hands. The tank was anchored vertically to the wall of the shaft, its guns facing straight down at the bottom, its sensors were in no position to notice the newly revived Confederate soldier bearing down on it. Chad dashed over the upper landing and vaulted over the edge, landing lightly on the rear of the tank's main turret. Whatever automated system was running the tank must have finally registered his presence, as the automated turret mounted next to the commander's cupola swiveled in his direction and began firing.

The former KND commander darted around the energy beams as if they were nothing more than foam darts. Dropping down past the point defense gun, he primed a plasma grenade and with a quick darting thrust, slapped the tiny magnetized explosive straight onto the turret's casing. He was already dropping down past the barrel of the main gun when the grenade detonated, blowing the turret clean off its mounting. Chad grabbed on to one of the tanks legs to halt his fall. He quickly shifted his momentum. With a single motion, he pulled his feet onto the leg and then launched himself back up to the newly made hole next to the cupola. Grabbing onto the edge of cupola, he primed the other grenade and then hurled it through the hole into the tank's main cabin.

Then he simply let go and fell to the floor below. Above, the grenade detonated, ravaging the tank's internals and cooking off its remaining ammunition. The spydekraft's main turret was blown completely off its mounting and slammed into the far wall, wedging itself between two of the landings. What was left of the main body lost power and ripped free from its perch on the wall. It slammed into the ground floor with an enormous crash, sparking and belching smoke, its legs splayed out in all directions, looking for all the world like a giant crushed insect. Kreller grinned inside his helmet and turned to Hysis, "you seem to forget corporal, that a single Directorate soldier is worth just as much as twenty adults."

"There's still the nanite swarm", remarked Hysis, but Kreller was too busy thinking to hear him. Chad's stunt with the tank had given him an idea, ironically, another adult tactic from the old war. "Hysis", ordered Kreller, "give me your sidearm." Hysis put a protective hand over his sidearm, "I know what your thinking and the answer's no, use your own damn sidearm!" Kreller groaned, "its just a pistol Nimian, this is no time to be sentimental!" Hysis wouldn't budge, "I've had this pistol since the Galactic War, I had it when we got off that damned plateau, I had it when we first got deployed here and I will still have it when we finally get rotated out. So... USE. YOUR. OWN. DAMN. PISTOL!"

Kreller gritted his teeth, he hated it when Hysis got this way, "fine, but you're buying drinks when we get back to base." He cut communication with Hysis before the corporal could object and set to work modifying his sidearm. When it was ready he signaled for the surviving troopers to drop down to their level and lead the swarm to them. Two Confederate regulars and one member of Kreller's unit came barreling over the edge of the platform and flattened themselves against the far wall. As Kreller watched, the silvery tendrils of the swarm slowly descended into the middle of the room, floating directly over the gutted ruin of the spider tank.

As soon as he saw the bulk of the swarm come into view, he pulled trigger of his sidearm and then tossed it directly into the center of the swirling mass. For a second, he was afraid he'd timed it wrong, but then he saw the pistol's power cell start to glow red hot. He instinctively looked away at the last second before the weapon detonated in a fiery red flash of discharged energy. When he looked back, he saw that his makeshift bomb had managed to destroy the core of the swarm, however a few spindly tendrils of silvery nanites remained. Thankfully, they were far too few in number to be a real threat to him or his men.

Kreller sighed with relief, "what the hell was that", exclaimed Dickson over the com, "you never taught me that trick!" Kreller laughed as the adrenaline finally started seeping out of his system, "there's plenty I haven't taught you yet Private, though it seems you've still managed to pick up a trick here and there. Thing is nanite swarms can only be effectively combatted using EMP weapons or flamethrowers. Those weren't in very high supply among the adult troops during the Revolution, but we had plenty of nanites to spare, so the adults came up with a simple trick to fix that. They discovered that energy cores tend to emit a small but powerful EMP pulse when they overload, so they would rig their own energy based weapons as makeshift EMP bombs whenever they went up against these things."

Kreller looked around the edges of the shaft, but he didn't see anymore hostiles, "we need to move fast and deliver the package, Ares probably already has reinforcements on the way." The remnants of Kreller's squad ran up the spiral ramp set into the side of the shaft, what was left of the swarm buzzed around their heads like a swarm of angry gnats the whole way. When they finally made it to the floor they started on, they saw it was a complete and total mess. The spider tank had done a number of this floor, but thankfully it hadn't destabilized any of the overhanging platforms. Still, those massive gash marks in the walls didn't inspire confidence. Besides the collateral damage, three of Kreller's men lay sprawled out across the platform.

Two of them were obviously dead. One had had his neck broken by the swarm and his head was bent at an unnatural angle. The other had been hosed by beam fire from the tank and had more holes in him than a slice of swiss cheese. The final soldier was one of Kreller's men, and he was reasonably alright, though a stray beam had burned through his leg. He'd faked being dead long enough for the swarm to divert down to Kreller's level, so he hadn't suffered any further wounds, unfortunately he was now effectively crippled.

Hysis began applying first aid while the poor guy slumped against the wall and babbled about being a great soldier until he took an energy beam to the knee or something. Kreller was too busy hooking the package up to the data terminal to really notice. When he was finally done hooking up the big cylinder to the terminal, he very carefully slammed his fist down on the "initiate upload" button and waited. A few seconds later, the lights in the room flickered, dimmed and then came back online. Suddenly a new voice started blaring at Kreller through the com net, "this is Loki, I have effective control of all systems necessary for operational success. The facility construct is attempting to bypass my firewalls, but he is... slow. Still I suggest you move with all due haste, I do not know how long I can keep the door open. I will keep this channel open for as long as possible, out."

Kreller got to his feet, "alright people look sharp now, the door is open and the clock is ticking. Move out on the double!" The rest of Kreller's squad bolted for the exit towards the lower levels. Just as he was the last one in, Kreller was the last one out. He paused for a moment by the wounded soldier slumped against the wall. The boy, a Private named Litz, had his sidearm out and ready facing the door on the far wall where they had come in. Kreller eyed the gun, "they'll most likely send someone to take you prisoner", he said, "we can't take you with us, so when they get here, I give you full permission to act as necessary, but, I don't want to lose anymore men today if I don't have to, so no heroics, understood?"

Litz gave a lopsided salute, "yes Commander, and I'll be sure to give your regards to the Admiral when I finally see him." Kreller grinned at that, "give the old bastard a good punch for me if you get the chance", he ordered, before jogging out after his men. Litz rested his back against the wall, steadied his arm against his knee and settled in to wait for his captors.

---

C.W.S. Mandate: Engaged in Combat with Adult Flotilla above Alaska Base

The bridge rocked slightly as one of the adult corvettes managed to punch a hole through Mandate's shields. "The forward hull plating on deck six has sustained light damage", reported the watch officer lazily. Arthurs sat slumped in his command chair, this battle had started out promising, but then things had taken a turn for the worst... relatively speaking. The Confederates weren't losing by an stretch of the imagination, but things were going at a snails pace.

When the battle had started, Arthurs had planned to fight a long range engagement, using his fleet's superior long range weapons and defenses to slowly whittle down the adult's formation before moving in for the kill. But, because the adult corvettes were smaller and much more maneuverable, and because Arthurs forces had lost their AA cover, fighting at long range had become much less effective. The corvettes were able to dodge almost every shot that was thrown at them, save for a few lucky shots here and there.

So after a few more volleys, Arthurs had decided screw it, ordered a dispersal formation and then had his frigates just bull charge the adult flotilla. The two sides were now so close together that they were practically shooting at each other from point blank range. Normally this kind of tactic was frowned upon by navy commanders across the galaxy for being downright suicidal, but Arthurs had a few advantages on his side.

Firstly, while the adult corvettes were able to chew through energy shields with apparent ease, their primary weapons weren't apparently so good at breaking reinforced armor. Considering that and the fact that the Confederate frigates also packed twice as many guns and point defenses as the smaller corvettes, gave the Confederates pretty good odds in a stand up fight.

The strike carriers, besides those damned missile pods, were apparently very sparsely armed, and had attempted to withdraw from the battle when Arthurs ships had charged their formation. Only two of them had gotten away scot-free, the third had taken a few rail slugs for its trouble and was now just barely managing to stay in the air. So they were in a pretty good position all things considered, but they had another advantage as well.

At close range, the adult pilots were apparently terrible at prioritizing targets. Once the melee started, and the adults realized they now had a mob of heavily armed Confederate frigates prowling around in their midst, the corvettes had just started blasting at whatever came within firing range. Mind you they were still a significant threat, but they weren't nearly as effective individually as they were grouped together. The adults were barely doing any damage besides draining the Confederate's shields and scorching their hull plating here and there. Also, at this range, the adult's little atmospheric fighters were essentially just target practice for the frigate's point defense lasers, which began chewing through them at an alarming rate.

Unfortunately, that went both ways, apparently that nifty laser defense system the adult strike carriers were packing worked just as well against Confederate aircraft as Landon had predicted. Arthurs had hoped that the Confederacy's space-worthy, energy shielded fighter craft would be protected enough to withstand the defense system. He'd lost two bomber squadrons before word could get back that he was wrong, so very wrong. So now it was down to the capital ships to finish the fight, unfortunately, that fight had basically devolved into a slug fest of attrition. The adults pumped shots into the Confederacy's big frigates to little effect, and the Confederate's just kept shooting at the adult's agile little corvettes until they hit something.

Suffice to say, neither side was really making any headway. Arthurs was getting impatient, this was not the epic final battle he had envisioned when he'd engaged these adults. Worse, he was getting reports from the ground commanders that without sufficient air support, the assault was beginning to stall across multiple fronts. We need to wrap this up and fast, he thought to himself, we can't afford to waste men and resources fighting a battle of attrition all the way up here over just one base! Still there was little they could do to speed up the process. Arthurs absent mindedly watched the adult ships zip around the battle space as he thought about what to do next.

He was in the middle of debating whether to call for reinforcements when something caught his eye. There was something familiar about the way the adult ships were moving, something off. Suddenly he had it, while they were small and agile, their reaction timing was much slower than any of the Confederacy's ships and their firing solutions, while accurate enough, were error filled to the point where they were still missing 20% of the time, even at this range. Even an army officer like Arthurs knew that this was a classic sign of ships operating on manual, without combat AIs.

Normally in ship-to-ship engagements, both sides relied on the input of combat AI's to both maneuver the ship at high speeds and to calculate firing solutions. Tactically however, relying completely on the AI was suicidal. The combat AIs were designed with logic in mind, not strategy or battlefield tactics, relying too heavily on them made you predictable, and therefore an easier target. An ship captain that relied entirely on his ship's combat AI could easily be outclassed by an opponent who did not. But an opponent that didn't have a combat AI to begin with...

He immediately made a call to the rest of the officers in the fleet and gave orders to hand direct control of their ship's combat systems over to the primary battle computer. The results were immediate, adult ships immediately began taking twice as much damage as before, as the combat AIs calculated the probable change in course of their evasive maneuvers. Meanwhile, the miss rate of the adult's counter fire jumped from 20% to 50%, now none of the Confederate ships were suffering so much as a scratch to their hulls. On the adult's side, losses were quickly mounting, three corvettes went down in quick succession, while a fourth was mauled by a sustained barrage from a passing frigate.

Two more corvettes soon followed, one was torn apart in a flurry of broadside laser fire, its light armor peeling away as the super hot beams melted the decks beneath. The other lost its shields to a rail slug and took a missile straight up the engine, which blew both its primary reactor and fuel supply. The little corvette detonated in a spectacular inferno of burning metal and acrid smoke. The adults quickly realized that the battle was turning against them, they had effectively lost nine ships, over a third of their fighting strength, while the Confederates had taken no losses at all.

That alone should have been enough to tell the adults that the odds weren't in their favor, but they stood their ground all the same. In spite of everything he had said earlier, Arthurs had to admit he respected that. That didn't change a damn thing though, he'd stick by his word and purge this entire base just as he'd promised that blustering general he would. As if to prove his point, two more adult corvettes suddenly vanished from the tactical display, and a pair of holographic red markers popped up showing their point of destruction.

It was a little too early to start patting himself on the back though. As he watched, one of the adult strike carriers from outside the melee launched a spread of missiles that slammed into the frigate Defiance. Defiance's point defenses took the brunt of the attack, but now that it's defenses were occupied, a pair of adult corvettes snuck up from behind and emptied their guns into the frigate's unshielded engine deck. Finally the adults managed a penetrating hit and as Arthurs watched, a bright blossom of flame erupted across Defiance's aft as her rear decks exploded.

He ground his teeth as he read the damage reports from Defiance. Even with the way the battle was going, casualties of this magnitude over a handful of adult remnants were unacceptable. Arthurs looked over at his com officer, "you still have the ID of the ship that accepted our hail earlier, correct?" "Yes Commander", confirmed the officer, "the 2nd strike carrier holding position over the base." "Force a connection with them", ordered Arthurs, with a wave of his hand, "I want to have another little chat with that General. Also send a transmission to Resilient, have them sync targeting systems with us." He turned to the weapons officer, "spin up the main rail cannons and get me a firing solution on that ship." The weapons officer gave a curt nod; Arthurs turned back to the main screen as the com officer established the connection.

General Buckner looked a little worse for wear, his ship had apparently taken a bit of damage from the battle. The inside of his bridge didn't look nearly as brand new as before, the power conduits built into the walls sparked from time to time from power discharges, while some of the consoles around the command deck had blown out screens from power overloads. Suffice to say, Buckner didn't look happy to see him. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT", was the first thing he yelled as soon as he saw Arthurs' face on the monitor.

Arthurs sat up a little in his chair, "I'll admit, you put up a good fight General, almost as good as I'd hoped for, but not quite. Still, you put up some good resistance, so I'm going to do something I don't normally do, I'm going to offer you a deal." Buckner arched an eyebrow at that, "and why would I be interested in making a deal with you?" Arthurs gestured towards the battle outside, "as you've no doubt already noticed, your forces have taken significant casualties while mine have sustained almost none." "The burning scrap end of your ship over there begs to differ", snorted Buckner, but Arthurs was unperturbed, "regardless, you will soon lose either way, so I offer you a choice. Surrender your remaining forces, I will of course execute you and all of your remaining officers as instigators of this battle. However, in return for your unconditional surrender, I will allow your rank and file forces to live."

Landon arched an eyebrow at that, but Arthurs waved him off, "however, if you do not surrender, I will be forced to kill everyone here as an example of what it means to defy the rule of the Confederacy." Buckner's face turned beat red with anger, "WHAT THE HELL KIND OF CHOICE IS THAT", he screamed. Arthurs sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers, "it is the choice that proves the nature of adults. The same choice that has been offered to adult commanders since the early days of the Great Revolution. Choose, now." "The hell I will you arrogant bastard", yelled Buckner, "while there is still American blood in my veins, I'll never throw down my weapon to someone like you! I was in Afghanistan! My grandfather fought Nazis in Europe, and his great grandfather before him fought the redcoats all the way back in the Revolution! My family didn't bow to tyrants like you and neither will I!"

"How quaint", remarked Arthurs, "my uncle fought adult soldiers on the battlefields of Arbato-Kiev during the first Great War. And now here I am, how history does run full circle. I take that as a no then?" "The strike carrier has launched another spread of missiles", reported the watch officer, "they are bearing on us, point-defenses spinning up now." "If that's your answer, so be it", remarked Arthurs, he turned to the weapons officer, "all guns charged and ready, firing solutions locked", he reported. Arthurs nodded, "open fire and send the order to Resilient to follow suit."

Arthurs felt the bridge shudder from the discharge of the rail cannons, he turned back to the screen, "well General, I guess I'll see you in hell then." Buckner opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly his feed cut out as the spread of rail slugs from both Mandate and Resilient slammed into his command ship. The first pair of shots depleted the shields entirely, while the remaining six shots shredded the ship into pieces. One slammed headlong into the prow and burrowed its way through half the vessel before grounding to a halt in the center, another caught the vessel amidships and punched straight through its upper decks, the others all hit in similar ways. The strike carrier broke in half, its rear section caught fire as the engine deck went up in flames and its reactors detonated. The rear half vanished in an expanding cloud of broken metal and flame, while the 2nd, forward half of the vessel continued to plummet down towards the Earth.

Arthurs grinned as he saw the destination. The General had apparently not taken into account the possible consequences of his chosen position, as now the wreckage of his ship was perfectly poised to drop right down onto the adult base. The adults point-defense system might have been able to stave off high velocity shells and a few missiles, but not a twenty thousand ton flaming hunk of twisted metal and machinery. The massive hunk of ship slammed into the base's shields, which snapped like a twig, and then continued on, plowing its way into the center of the base, till it hit the lip of one of those massive silos and fell down the hole into the hanger below.

Capitalizing on this chance, Arthurs ordered his ships to ignore the remaining adult forces and redirect their fire onto the base below. Missiles, rail slugs and volleys of laser fire pummeled the teen and adult positions into rubble. The remains of the base's defenses vanished under the sustained barrage, the shield generator was the next to go as a rail slug burrowed its way through one of the mountain sides and found the primary reactor. The mountain peak exploded in a shower of electrical energy and burning metal. Instantly all of the base's automated defenses died, along with them went the adult's only laser defense system.

The Confederate ground forces surged through the openings made by the barrage and began to storm into the base's interior. In the skies above, the remaining adult ships began to realize that the battle was lost and began to flee out towards the sea. Arthurs was ready for that though, while his frigates had been engaging the adult force, the smaller support craft he'd brought along had quietly edged around the battlefield to the rear, cutting off the adult's escape. While the support craft weren't nearly as heavily armed as the frigates, there were a lot of them. The adults only had one strike carrier and seven corvettes by the time they broke away from the Confederate frigates, the support ships showed them no mercy.

Still, despite all odds, a pair of adult corvettes managed to break the blockade and escaped out over the sea, fleeing in the direction of the long gone teen fleet. Arthurs let them go, a pair of corvettes would do the adults little good at this point, besides his frigates were too slow to catch them and he didn't want to risk any of his support ships. Down below, the Confederate soldiers began to carry out Arthurs' orders to letter, just as he promised Buckner, no would be spared. Arthurs and Landon watched the massacre for a while as they waited for the rest of the flotilla to finish compiling damage reports.

"Would you have actually spared them", asked Landon, without looking over his shoulder, "the Directorate mandate was to-" "The Directorate doesn't exist anymore", stated Arthurs, "our mandate is to conquer, not destroy. If you kill all the people, who's left for you to rule over? I wasn't lying, but the test was right again." Landon sighed, "the oldest test in child history, when given a chance, would an adult choose his own life or the lives of his comrades?" "The answer has not changed in a thousand years", agreed Arthurs, "not during the the Revolution and not now, never has there ever been an adult commander who would willingly sacrifice themselves for their men. The Autarch was right about that at least, it proves what selfish beings they are."

The arm of his command chair began beeping, Arthurs walked over to inspect it. "Ah", he exclaimed, "the sub-commander's mission appears to be going well, Loki has opened the Vault." He checked to see that his access to the KND supercomputer was still open, he still had ten minutes before his window ended. Working quickly, Arthurs accessed the KND supercomputer and sifted through the files until he found what he was looking for, deep within the computer's oldest programming paths, lay a old remote connection to the KND Imperial archive back at the capital city.

Arthurs had discovered the link while inspecting the computer systems in the older parts of the KND Moonbase. This link would allow him to remotely access the ancient Imperial archive buried in the capital city centuries ago, however, the remote link was only accessible via direct interface with the KND prime supercomputer, which is why he'd needed Bartie's command codes. Now for the next step of the puzzle, he thought, he accessed the supercomputer and activated the remote link. The link went live and he was able to access the ancient digital archive, now came the tricky part. He sifted through decades of Imperial KND files, ever aware that his time was running out. Finally he found what he was looking for.

Long ago, at the end of the Great Revolution, the KMD had sealed away their greatest weapons and treasures within the deepest parts of the Site 32 facility: the Vault. While the secrets of this vault were mainly physical, there were also digital treasures to be found. Specifically the wealth of Directorate scientific knowledge that had been hoarded and locked away to prevent it from falling into the hands of the adults. Lab reports and technical specifications, 3D models, full blueprints and chemical formulas for weapons and technologies that had long ago been lost to the deprivations of time and the ravages of war.

Now, finally, after years of preparation and scheming, with the Vault's systems finally open, that knowledge was nearly at his fingertips. All that stood in his way was one final security measure, a legacy system, an impenetrable firewall that would only open to a member of Directorate High Command or a person who possessed traces of genetic material inherited from an Officer of Directorate High Command. The perfect fail safe, to insure that the secrets within were only passed to the descendants of those worthy enough to gain access.

Arthurs' Uncle had only been a rank and file soldier, so he didn't possess that kind of access clearance. Asking for a sample from one of the other surviving members was impossible and would have drawn suspicion to his true plans. But there had been one way around that, one little loophole that fate had kindly presented him in the form of his best Spec-Ops Operative. He calmly called up the scan of Nigel's genetic material and fed it into the legacy system. Immediately the firewalls dropped and knowledge beyond his wildest dreams flooded into the memory banks of his ship's data core. He had to physically restrain himself from laughing out loud with glee, and now, he thought, the games will truly begin!

---

Ancient KND Central Command Bunker: Primary Deployment Bay

In the handful of seconds between when the Praetor raised his sword and brought it down, several things happened. Firstly, Schmitt began to reach out with his powers in order to put the Praetor off balance and cause him to fall over. However, at the same time, Nigel leapt forwards, intent on intervening in the fight. This forced Schmitt to stop what he was doing in order to grab the boy by the collar and forcibly restrained him with an arm around the throat. This in turn, attracted a lot of turned heads from the audience, which prevented them from seeing the two things that happened up on stage.

Firstly, as the Praetor brought his blade down, Rachel brought her hand up. The hand that was still clutching the seemingly broken sword hilt. Be it by shear luck or precise aiming, she managed to deflect the Praetor's swing before it reached the nape of her neck. However, at the same time, the force of the blow on the little sword hilt rattled Rachel's grip on the thing. So much so that her fingers slipped out of position and her thumb ended in the little groove Nigel had found earlier.

Then the second thing happened. The sword hilt suddenly pulsed to life as power rushed through it's circuitry, and a two foot long segmented blade with inlaid circuitry snapped out of the top. Both Rachel and the Praetor were caught completely off guard by that, but it was Rachel who recovered first. Before the Praetor could react, she swung her new weapon in a wide arc across his chest. His blade was out of position from her parry and he had no time to dodge. The blade sliced across his chest as cleanly as knife through paper, leaving a thin red furrow behind it. It wasn't anything more than a flesh wound, but it cut deep. The Praetor immediately began weeping blood from the thin furrow in his chest.

He clutched his chest, but refused to drop his sword, even as he fell to one knee from the pain. Rachel on the other hand, took the opportunity to finally stand back up. This was about the same time that everyone finally looked back to the stage, the whole thing was over in the span of five seconds. The rest of the audience gaped at the way the tables had turned, while Schmitt finally released Nigel from his headlock. Rachel stood over the Praetor in the exact same way he had stood over her not a minute ago. He glared at her, "well, what are you waiting for, finish it!"

Rachel glanced at her weapon, then back down at the Frederick. Slowly, she thumbed the groove again and the segmented blade snapped back into the hilt of sword. She finally spit out that dislodged tooth, along with a globule of blood, before grinning at him, "that's not the way the KND works anymore Praetor." Frederick snickered and before she could react, the end of his blade was at her throat.

He glared at her, "never, at any time, lower your weapon in the presence of an enemy", he spat. The two commanders locked eyes, while the audience waited with bated breath. Finally, after a long, tense moment, Frederick grunted and lowered his blade, "its good to know that after all these years, honor is still in fashion in the KND." He tossed his sword at her feet and bowed his head, "I yield, the match is yours." Rachel bowed to him in turn, then helped the wounded officer to his feet. Silence reined throughout the deployment bay, all except for Nigel who couldn't help but let out a triumphant, "YESSSS!" He was quickly quieted by the multitude of angry glares from the surrounding officers.

Once he was on his feet again, Frederick gently shrugged Rachel off and made his way to the edge of the platform, "the duel is decided", he bellowed, "the tradition has been fulfilled and honor has been satisfied. If there are any here who are not content with this outcome, then you will answer to me!" With his right arm still clutched to his chest, he gestured at Rachel, "I give you, the new Supremarch of the KND!" The Praetor clicked his heels together and bellowed, "ATTENDENTE!" He was immediately followed by the entire crowd of officers, all of whom came to attention as one. The Praetor thrust out his fist, "AVE IMPERATOR!" The entire crowd followed suit, the cries of AVE IMPERATOR echoing across the enclosed walls of the deployment bay.

Rachel was more than a bit overwhelmed by that, this kind of reception seemed more fit for a dictator, rather than a freshly sworn in military commander. After that little reception, she and Fredrick descended from the platform to receive medical attention from their respective subordinates. Apparently the boy with the plumed helmet and the girl with the red cape were the Praetor's direct lieutenants, as they took personal responsibility for his treatment. Schmitt saw to Rachel with his powers, though he made sure to make it look like he was using the offered medical supplies. He did the same to the Frederick, even as the Praetor's subordinates attempted to wave him off.

The pair were treated side by side and this gave the Praetor the opportunity to begin introducing Rachel to the rest of the officers of the Legion. The boy with the plumed hat was identified as Lance Oberfeld, field number 2C4, Praefect of Cohort Secondarius, while the girl with the red cape was identified as Praefect Custodes Beatrice Agmen, field number 2D9. Rank wise, the boy was essentially a Colonel, 2nd in command of the Legion, while the girl was the Praetor's personal bodyguard.

Frederick took great care to explain how the Legion was set up, as each of the officers came up to them in turn, and theatrically gave their condolences to the Praetor for his loss, while congratulating Rachel on her victory and pledging their support to her rule. Rachel absent mindedly thanked the lord that Schmitt hadn't been lying about their loyalty. That wasn't to say they looked happy, but they at least seemed to be following their Praetor's lead for now. Meanwhile the Praetor continued to drone on about Legion doctrine and organization.

He explained that the Legion was separated into thousand man detachments called cohorts, each of which would act as its own unit on the battlefield. He made sure that she got to know the names of all the cohort commanders, as well as the designations of their respective commands. Halfway through this process, Fredrick surprised her by asking where she had gotten that sword from. "I found it in the armor station where Schmitt directed us", she replied, slightly taken aback by the question, "I assumed it was a common weapon or piece of equipment." The Praetor's expression was complete shock, he gestured towards the hilt, "you mean to tell me you have no idea what that is?!"

Rachel was confused, "what is it then?" "That", interrupted Schmitt, who was still working on the Praetor's wounds, "is an old piece of Directorate technology. A void blade, the weapon of a KMD officer. How it got in that armor station, I'd love to know, but it would seem to have reappeared at the perfect moment." He deftly swiped the weapon out of her grasp, "it is also, something too dangerous and rare for you to possess." Rachel rolled her eyes, "can't be that dangerous, its just a bloody sword!" Schmitt arched an eyebrow, he thumbed the activation switch and the blade snapped out again. This time though, the circuitry inlaid in the weapon pulsed a second time and suddenly a field of dark purple energy pulsed into existence around the blade.

Schmitt drove the weapon down in a sweeping arc across the floor, not a single spark flew, instead the energy encased blade flowed right through the ground as if it were just air, cleaving a massive gash in the concrete floor. Schmitt flourished the weapon before deactivating the field, "a void field interacts with matter on a sub-molecular basis, all matter that touches this field vanishes from existence. All matter. Even the air particles in its way melt out of this reality, there is no armor that can stop it and no force that can block it."

He clipped the weapon to his belt, "void based weapons were among the most deadly of the Directorate's creations, thankfully they were all gene-locked to only respond to those with KMD ID implants. Its fortunate that you don't possess those, otherwise you would have carved more than a little gash in our Praetor here." "Well thank Zero for that", droned Rachel sarcastically,"you're welcome", replied Monty, from over her shoulder. Rachel ignored him, "looks like we've got another issue to deal with though." She pointed at the surrounding crowd, who were apparently dumbfounded by Schmitt's ability to use a void blade, "like how our impulsive idiot of an admiral just blew his cover as an ex-Directorate soldier."

Schmitt took a quick glance around the room, taking in all the shocked and questioning looks from the other officers, before sullenly stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat, "crud." Fortunately for him, he didn't have time to explain anything, for at that moment, the lights in the deployment bay began to flicker and dim, power crackled through the conduits on the walls and a fuse box on the far side of the room blew out. "What the heck was that", demanded Frederick. Schmitt didn't waste a second, "ARES, STATUS UPDATE", he yelled at the ceiling.

The AI's hologram flickered into existence in front of him, but this time it was much blurrier than before and constantly fizzed in and out of focus. Several of the Legion officers, including the Praetor's bodyguard, whipped out their weapons and leveled them at the holographic boy, but Ares took no notice of them. This time, he skipped the salute and immediately began his report, "the Confederate infiltrators have bypassed my non-lethal defense measures and introduced a foreign construct into my systems, it has taken over control of the primary security measures around the Vault, the lock-down has been canceled. It is now attempting to assault my primary data centers."

Schmitt cursed, "you aren't at risk are you?" Ares shook his head, "no, this AI is highly specialized towards fighting other AI's and appears to possess some knowledge of Directorate constructs. However, it is fairly weak and...", Ares grinned slightly, "inexperienced, it seems to be a relatively new program. I have been able to isolate it to the security nodes surrounding the vault, but I will not be able to purge it in time before-" Ares suddenly went silent.

Schmitt and the Praetor shared a look, "these Confederates of yours must be something else", admitted Frederick, "in all of the two hundred years the Empire held this base, we never managed to break the security encryption on that vault." Schmitt ground his teeth, "the Confederates had help", he muttered.

Ares suddenly started speaking again, "alert, there is an external source tapping into the facility's primary data banks. It has begun directly accessing the backup archive in the Vault." "Impossible", breathed Schmitt, "cut it off. CUT IT OFF NOW!" "I can't", responded Ares, a tinge of frustration coloring his tone, "the tap is feeding through a connection located inside the isolated files controlled by the foreign construct. I'm locked out."

Schmitt cursed again, "well start purging the damned files! We'll deal with the Confederates. Frederick?" The Praetor glanced at the other officers around them, "you're really going to have us fight other kids?" "We have no choice", asserted Schmitt adamantly, "and we have no time either, are you going to hold to your word or not." Frederick grunted and ran a hand over his still healing chest, "I lost, fate made its choice. So I guess the best thing I can do is have dignity in defeat, eh?" Schmitt gave him a lopsided grin, "trust me, it never gets any easier." "Ain't that the truth", sighed Frederick, he turned to his subordinates, "give the order to wake the rest of the Legion. I want a full squad in combat gear down at the Vault entrance in five minutes, I don't care if you have to fill the squad with officers, just get them down there now!"

Praefect Oberfeld nodded and began shouting orders to the other officers. Schmitt got up and marched over to where Nigel and Rachel were standing, "both of you stay here and get these men organized, I'll take care of this personally." Nigel gave Rachel a quick glance before taking off after Schmitt, "hold up I'm coming too!" "What", exclaimed Rachel, "why?" Nigel stopped and turned around, "none of these Legionaries have ever fought Confederates before, he's going to need an experienced fighter watching his back. Besides... if its who we think it is, Chad is probably down there."

"You think you can get through to him", asked Rachel hopefully. Nigel grinned and cracked his knuckles, "maybe, but what I really want is a little pay back for Fredericksburg. Besides, that Confederate Spec-ops commander seemed to know me, maybe I can get some answers out of him about my missing memories." Rachel looked nervous but she bit her lip and didn't say anything except, "be careful." Nigel grinned, "you know I will."

As the two of them ran off towards the lift on the far side of the room, Rachel looked out over the crowd of officers gathered before her. Most were rushing off to prepare for the Legion's awakening, but the Cohort commanders were just standing there looking at her. Frederick walked up to the front of the crowd, "orders sir?" Rachel grinned, these were her soldiers now, her Legion. The KND now had an army, so it was time to start using it.

---

OMG that took way longer than it was supposed to. I make no promises about future release dates because I screw that up every time. I'm trying to stick to a once a month release schedule, but god knows if I'll be able to keep that up. Just know that this story isn't dead yet and I don't intend to end it until it is done.