Author's note: Apologies for the long wait, as explained in the new note for the last chapter. This one's a bit rushed, but I do feel that it turned out quite well given that. Not sure what the estimated time will be on the next chapter.

Field Training V: Trial by Fire

8:07 AM

The din in the air was deafening, but that did not slow the retreat of Private Gordon Tebowski and his squad. Not everyone in the group looked happy with the turn of events, though.

"If all we need to do is flank 'em, then just split the hell up and set a trap," Gordon heard Deuce shout to Boss.

"Back in line, Private." Lead glared at him. "Command told us to run like maggots, so we run like maggots."

"Maggots don't..." Deuce shot her a murderous look, but shut up.

Something seemed off about this to Gordon as well, but he didn't say anything. Running like this was all fine as long as they had a forest to run through, but they were approaching a clearing, and there they'd just be target practice for their pursuers unless they turned north to try and flank the main force.

From the way they were running, he could tell that wouldn't be the case.

Orange Star Command Post, Alara Region

8:15 AM

David picked at his thumb as he watched the enemy pour across the bridge in a mass, infantry using the tanks as cover. As they crossed the bridge, they slowed their advance, tanks glancing around as if unsure of the situation.

"They should know we don't have any troops there." David scratched his head. "Are they even looking at the sat maps?"

Stoneham laughed nervously, relief evident on his face. "One of Petrine's quirks, perhaps. I won't risk jinxing it."

The lull didn't last long. The tanks continued moving up in pursuit of the retreating Orange Star troops, slowing to match the pace of the infantry between their ranks.

"So she's opted for the safe road." Stoneham whistled. "This could be trouble."

David breathed a sigh of relief. "At least she's wasted her OF Power."

Stoneham laughed. "Far from it, advisor. That shield may not have blocked any of our bullets, but it did draw us away from the chokepoints at the river.

He was right. "Then we set up at the bridge in front of the camp. Without her Power, she'll have to cross it the hard way."

"And we're strategically right back where we started, except we've ceded our supply camps to the enemy." Stoneham stared into his eyes. "And aren't you forgetting something? Say, a squad you sent south to the riverbank, one that will be in shooting range of their pursuers soon enough?"

David flipped back and forth between the satellite overview and individual feeds, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck. "We'll have them take cover at a supply camp, maybe divert a squad to aid them."

"With all requisite respect, sir, they'll be caught by enemy tanks before they make it back to HQ." Stoneham shook his head curtly. "And you forget Petrine's abilities. Natural cover is her ally – even something as flimsy as tall grass can block bullets for those in her Comnet. Your choice, advisor. Stand our ground on poor terrain, or sacrifice that squad?"

It was clear to David, then. "Damn." He got to work at the console, submitting orders for the subcommanders to send to their squad leaders.

8:21 AM

Above the din of the pouring rain, gunshots punctuated the morning air.

"They're at the edge of the forest," Pound observed without panic.

"What do we do?" Gordon's lungs burned. His legs probably would too if he could feel them.

"Keep on running." Pound shrugged. "They won't reliably hit us from this range."

"Reliably."

"More likely than a traffic accident. Less than winning a small sum at the slots." Pound actually laughed. "Man up. It's war. People shoot at you."

For the first time, Gordon was glad David and others weren't there. Well, maybe not David. If he was there, then...

"He'd hit 'em even at this range," he muttered.

"Who would?" Rainy ran up beside Gordon, looking like a dog that had just finished a swim in the sewers. "Friend of yours?"

Popped a whole squad's worth of Moonies last time I fought with him, Gordon wanted to say, but his chest was tight and air wouldn't flow freely – all he could do was shrug.

"Don't worry. Once we turn 'round and face the Moonies, the old farts here will tear 'em a new one. Or two." Rainy slapped him on the shoulder. "We're in good company here."

Gordon had no doubt they were capable of it, especially Ember, who looked ready to tear Command five and counting. That was a woman who didn't take retreat well, and she sure didn't look happy about lugging such a heavy weapon like that LMG around without getting to use it on anyone.

"Our destination's the supply camp." Lead waved down Ember and Deuce's shouts. "I know, that's ETA 60-plus at a running pace. Well, suck it up. We'll be joining with the main force there and taking on the Moonies with the rest of 'em."

"Are we really gonna run this long?" said Justin Folger in Team A.

"Exercise. Drop dead on the way and I'll leave you to the Moonies. You know what they do to cowards?" Lead laughed mercilessly. "No royal treatment for most POWs, but even the biggest commie-zombie among the Moonies thinks more highly of us 'Bowlheads' than their side's cowards. Imagine what they do to ours."

Justin moaned and kept running. Gordon followed, cursing under his breath and wishing he knew just what the plan was.

Within 10 minutes, the gunfire faded away. Despite that, the squad's pace slowed only slightly.

"We've got to make it back to the supply camps in time." Even Pound looked almost out of breath. "Besides, if they aren't shooting, they're pursuing us even faster."

"What... do... then?" Gordon panted.

"We fight. Man, what kind of sorry training 'd they give you at the Goldie?" Pound glowered down at him. "I'll put it this way. It's not your job to worry about what you can and can't do. That's what Lead and I are for. If we don't think you're broken, you're not broken." He turned around and watched the horizon behind them for a few seconds as he ran.

"HQ says that squad's still in pursuit anyhow. Can't slow down now." Pound left the consequences unsaid.

The plains were even soggier than when they had come out there. The ground was practically a marsh now – Gordon's boots routinely sank into the mud with each step. That, he was used to back on the farm. What he wasn't used to was the lack of a clear goal. Sure, they were headed back to the supply camps, but only Stoneham and "Moses" knew what the plan was from there. It wouldn't have been so bad if the crew from his training squad was there, but now...

He cursed himself again inside. Why'd it have to be Blue Moon? He really didn't want to die fighting an enemy he cared nothing about.

Orange Star Command Post, Alara Region

8:54 AM

"Our backmost squads have reached the supply camps." Stoneham stared mournfully at the nearly-empty cigar case in his hand. "The tanks will arrive in 15 minutes, then the rest soon enough. Enemy contact in 25 at this pace."

"And the southern infantry?" David stared worriedly at the battle map. Their squad was traveling far too slow, and their pursuers were almost on them.

"Damned if I know what's holding them up. Prob'ly the mud. They'll be running ducks against that armor if our foe heads south first; better hope the Moonies' tanks aren't in the mood for a turkey shoot."

That was a good point. "You tell me. You've been fighting Petrine for longer than I have."

"And I still haven't figured the bloody bird out." Stoneham finally decided on one of the last three cigars. "Sometimes she waffles back like at the bridge. Other times, she charges like she's gone completely mental. There's no predicting that woman."

"There's a pattern here," David muttered to himself. So why hadn't he figured it out yet?

9:20 AM

Gordon was glad to be alive, though the tension hadn't left his body. The rain still came down hard, but about 10 minutes earlier, as they went down into a valley of sorts, he'd seen even Lead grow tense. On low ground in the middle of a swamped plain, they would have been sitting ducks if the enemy had decided to pursue. Every second had stretched into a pain that he eventually just clamped down on and tried his best to ignore.

Not that all gunfire was gone at this point; north, he could hear the din of battle rising again, and they were quickly approaching it. His heart pounded hard into his ears; unlike the other rookies, he wasn't too badly beat by the march they'd done, but it still seemed ridiculous that they were expected to engage the enemy at the end. He didn't voice those concerns.

The supply camp grew ever larger in the distance, up on a small incline. It was hardly any more homelike than the makeshift HQ, but the hill at least gave it a strong defensive position. As they approached, the squad's pace finally slowed.

"Camp's up on that hill," Pound said. "Keep your eyes at three o' clock when we approach. Enemy's out there somewhere."

"So the supply bases are still safe? Whew." Rainy grinned. "Guess we can't say nothin' went right today."

"We arrived just in time." Pound glared over at fireteam A, which lagged about over a hundred meters behind them due to the rookies' exhaustion. "Though I can't say those two newbies will be in a fighting state."

As they got closer to the camp, Lead signaled them all towards an abandoned barn to the far west of the base, her hand signal indicating that satellite feeds stated the barn was clear of hostiles. Still, they approached the barn carefully, Gordon not letting down his guard until they were safely inside.

"Right. Take your 2-minute breather here, because we're heading right into the fray." Lead paced back and forth, same irritable expression on her face. "Here's the deal. We're facing tanks and heavy infantry. Our guys have got the numbers advantage, but they've got the firepower."

Lead grabbed a shovel from the wall of the barn and drew a crude map in the mud. "We'll be entering the camp through the south. Defenders there know we're comin'. Most of 'em are up against the northmost fortifications right now. Team A, great luck: you get the southeast. Only our pursuers are in that direction. Team B, you get main east."Gordon barely managed to stop himself from grimacing at that news.

She drew a few circles outside the box indicating the camp. "The defenders don't have much cover out there. They're relying mostly on concealment in the tall grasses. Our sats know their general locations, but not their exact positions. However... well, we have our ways of knowing." She rolled her eyes. "Or so Stoneham says."

A weird feeling ran through Gordon. "Question, ma'am."

"Your only question, I hope."

"Did Stoneham elaborate? Is this a new weapon of ours, or maybe..."

"Damned if I know." Lead cackled. "Probably not a weapon, 'cause why would we have a top-secret weapon all the way out here in the boonies?"

Gordon felt a chill as Lead continued. "So yeah. Command assures me this is an open-and-shut battle. I've heard that one before, so keep your eyes open and stay frosty."

"That last part shouldn't be too hard in this weather," quipped Rainy.

Lead spat. "Yeah, shut up. If the armored boys can do their jobs properly, this could be a milk run. Of course, they never do their jobs."

She stood. "Time's wasting. Let's go get this over with."

The next few minutes were a blur, and soon they were crossing the edge of the camp. The camp itself wasn't very large, perhaps half the length of a football field in each direction. There was a south and a north entrance, large enough for a tank to come in for repairs. On the far west edge of the camp, a tent fluttered in the wind, sheltering mechanics who crouched in the back. Just north of the camp, Gordon could see their side's tank platoon, shelling away into the grass to the east.

Gordon's eyes flit around the place they were to defend – the ammo stockpiles and tools in the back, the combat engineers and another infantry squad at the barricades far away, bullet holes in the sandbags around the camp, discarded shell casings and clips around the floor. As they entered the camp, Gordon crouched over and tried to stay low, but Pound rolled his eyes at him and signaled for him to hurry to his position.

"How do we target anything in this downpour?" Rainy shouted.

"Suppressive fire!" yelled Pound. "Don't expect to hit anything! Just keep 'em down and stuck in one place, and for heaven's sake, don't get shot!"

"Like hell!" Ember shouted, and then Gordon dropped as his ears were almost blasted out by the sound of her light machine gun blasting lead down across the flooded plains, distant splashes downfield betraying nothing about their enemies' positions.

Lead stared down at her muddy tablet, shouting. "Sat reports enemy locations as follows! Heavy infantry, 2 squads at 10 o' clock, 250 to 300 meters! Light infantry, one squad 12 o'clock, 200 to 270 meters, one squad 1 o'clock, 190 to 220 meters! Tanks, 10 of 'em, 11 o' clock, 300 to 310 meters, advancing!"

Gordon shut his eyes tight, pressing up against the sandbags. He wanted to peek out and shoot, but his body didn't let him. Come on, Tebowski. One ambush can't have stomped the soldier out of you!

With a great exertion, Gordon snapped his head over the barricades and fired a few shots off into the distance. The rattling of hot death from the weapon in his hands gave him confidence, and on the second peek, he stayed out for long enough to actually look at the situation.

Aside from a few flashes down below, he couldn't see anything through the rain. Remembering the training, he pulled back behind the barricades, mentally going through just how far 200 or so meters would be (which direction did she say again?) As he looked out, he saw that only the other newcomers were pressing so tightly to the barricades. The more experienced soldiers looked tense, but not afraid. As Lead had said, they didn't see this as a bad situation yet.

"Heavy infantry closing in! We'll be in range of the tanks soon!" Lead nodded at Pound, who pulled away from the barricades, evidently looking for something in the camp. The other veterans tensed, and Gordon felt another chill. To ignore it, he peeked out again and fired some more rounds out into the storm.

Then, a bright flash appeared below, and Gordon dropped to the floor on instinct.

Before he hit the ground, the ground shook and he fell on his side. As he righted himself, he saw a hole in the barricades at the far-north end of the camp. He didn't know if it was the enemy tanks or the heavy infantry, but from Lead's grim expression, he knew things were about to get hairy.

Blue Moon Forward HQ (Coral Fortress), Alara Region

9:35 AM

Bashmet paced, absently twiddling his thumbs. On the overview screens around him, two of the position dots had turned from a solid blue to a flashing blue.

Petrine confirmed it. 'One heavy infantry squad and one infantry squad are in retreat. All were hit by explosive weapons or shells, not small arms fire.'

'I see. So our foe's abilities can be used both for attack and defense.' Bashmet frowned. 'But without a Command Network, it must not be easy to take advantage of it.'

'Then his use of heavy weapons makes sense.' Petrine's voice came back, certain. 'He's telling them over comms where to move to, where to fire... he's directing their attack trajectory directly. In this storm, it's likely he can adjust for wind and movement as well.'

Bashmet understood. 'The tanks shall be our highest priority, then.'

'Those, and their heavy infantry – I do believe Orange Star's anti-tank weapons contain calibration electronics these days. He can direct them to fire at a certain angle, for instance. His light infantry number high, but against my abilities and in this storm, they're fairly useless. However, their rifles, and even simpler anti-tank weapons...'

'If he told them to fire in a given angle and direction, they would have no way to measure it, and even a small deviation would miss the mark.'

'It also means his heavy infantry will take longer to fire. If just a few of our tanks suppress them with cannon fire, it will make his efforts useless. Our main armor will shred their tanks before long.' Petrine smiled in her Comnet trance. 'Interesting tricks, enemy commander, but you showed your hand too early.'

9:37 AM

The front row of the southern camp's barricades was almost completely gone, and yet the squad merely stayed in place.

This is madness. Gordon's eyes stung from the smoke, his body only moving enough to squeeze off a few more rounds in some indeterminate direction away from the camp. Lead still yelled orders out, pressed against the muddy ground like an earthworm, but his ears rung too long – her words couldn't reach him.

"Hey! Aren't you listening?" A smack to the back of Gordon's helmet sent him face first into the mud, then twirling around to see Pound above him, frowning skeptically. "Enemy infantry at 2 o' clock, getting closer! They should be in visual range soon enough! What, do you want to get shot or something? Follow me!"

Gordon didn't notice himself crawling to face this new direction, but he must have, for soon he was back at the wrecked barricades, carefully crawling around the metal scraps in the ground. The rain still poured, and his sight didn't reveal anything beyond the mud and rain. He could tell that the others couldn't either, as they popped off shots towards the enemy in an undisciplined fashion, taking perhaps too long to peer over the edge.

A clicking noise from his rifle informed him that he was out of bullets. His hands fumbled with the next magazine – the process of reloading was no longer routine and easy in this environment. As he clicked it into the body of his rifle and brought it up towards his head again, he noticed that the screams around him had increased in volume. A loud bang erupted nearby, sending him back down into the mud.

Or so his ears told him – the impact he'd heard was no bullet. Gordon looked up; a trail of smoke led up into the air from the camp behind him. Pound had found a mortar in the camp and was putting it to good use.

"Get back!" Lead yelled. "Command says enemy tanks are-"

The explosions began again, and the remains of the barricade in front of Gordon was thrown into the air. Part of him wanted to stand, while the rest remained on the mud, crawling as fast as he could towards the inner line of barricades at the center of the camp.

One of the rookies in the north stood and ran – he couldn't tell which. A trail of smoke cut the air in front of the soldier, and the silhouette fell to the ground. For a terrible moment, Gordon thought his squadmate had been shot in half by a tank shell, but after a few seconds, the shape stirred and began to crawl. As they reached the inner barricades together, he saw it was Private Mila Tayless.

"Shit," she whispered, scratching at her cheek. "That thing was this close..." Her next words were drowned out by the sound of the mortar firing again.

"They're coming up on the hillside! Get in position!" yelled Lead, crouched behind the inner barricades. Gordon and the others mirrored her stance, and they waited, horrible seconds passing to the beat of the mortar.

Orange Star Command Post, Alara Region

9:40 AM

"Our infantry have been driven away from the edge of the second camp."

David barely heard Stoneham's words. Petrine was advancing aggressively – her outnumbered infantry were charging the southern camp, but her tanks in the distance had the camp suppressed. If any of those shells managed to make a hit...

And they were all advancing towards the southern camp, even though David knew his tanks had to be the real target. Petrine's remaining heavy infantry were advancing as well, using the tanks as cover against David's soldiers. It was too late for regrets, but deep inside, he knew he should have positioned his tanks inside the northern supply camp. His anti-tank squads would have to leave the northern camp to support them, and then...

"Advisor. New orders." Stoneham's voice hardened. "The battle is still going."

"Same plan as before," David croaked. "Their tanks are in range now. Our tanks have made several direct hits-"

"A direct hit would mean one or more of their tanks is out of action, which has so far-"

"Yeah." David waved him off.

Stoneham hissed and stormed out of the tent, no doubt wishing David was part of the military's conventional rank structure. David could almost see what the Captain wanted to do to him. He had a point – the southern hill would fall soon, along with the infantry on it. David looked around, then punched a command into the console. His instinct told him to order the infantry on the hill to retreat, something he knew Stoneham wouldn't have liked despite his desire to minimize casualties.

Tactically, that would be a disaster – the Moonies' tanks would get the high ground and the supplies. However, that infantry squad... he knew it had to survive. Why, he didn't know, but he was beyond questioning his feelings at this point.

If this was the instinct for war that a Projector was supposed to have, it didn't feel like he was doing a particularly good job with it.

9:41 AM

"Retreat?" screamed Lead. "Sir, if we pull back..."

She trailed off. Gordon didn't know how to feel about that. On one hand, he wanted to get the hell out of here now. On the other, they'd been running all day.

"Oh, really now." She scoffed. "Fine. I want to hear it from Stoneham myself. Or so help me, I'll-"

Movement. Gordon snapped his rifle to his face and fired several bursts, and the face disappeared behind the ruins of the outer barricades. The Moonies had arrived.

"Too late to run now!" Lead whooped. "We've got two squads against one! Toss out pineapples and kick some ass!"

Gordon's heart pounded. They were there in front of him now. Humans, not faraway monsters in the bushes and grass. These Moonies were mortal now.

Humans, not monsters. His hands gripped his gun tighter, but his reason to fight only became more clear in that moment.

"Nothing personal," he muttered under his breath, feeling some regret. "But I'm not dying to no Moonie. Gotta live to fight the real enemy."

His hands tightened around one of his hand grenades. In a smooth motion, he pulled the pin and lobbed the sphere loosely over the top of the barricade, making sure his hand didn't go too far upward in the follow-through – wouldn't do to get his arm shot, which might drop the explosive on top of him.

Some of the grenades made it past the barricade. Out of the corner of his eye, Gordon saw the other squad run past them, moving southward with the inner layer of barricades as cover, heading for the south edge of the camp.

He ducked behind the barricades with the others, and several explosions sounded off from the grenades. However, there was no indication that the Moonies had been hit, and sure enough, gunfire came out from behind the side of the hill.

"Keep 'em suppressed!" Lead yelled, and the veteran members of the squad let out war whoops, firing over the barricades. The yelling from the Moonies' squad sounded far less confident, and a swell of aggression rose up in his chest. He shouted out his best war cry, punctuating the shout with bullets.

As Gordon peered out over the barricade again, he was pulled down by Rainy, eyes wide. Then, the world around him exploded, dust and shrapnel thrown around in the air, and he kept his eyes shut.

An impact smacked him back a little. As he opened his eyes, a sticky he felt something sticky along his left side, and some odd signal from his body that he pushed out of his mind. At some level, he knew what had just happened, but-

When he tried to go over the barricade again, his body wouldn't respond. His whole fireteam was in bad shape, from the look of it, but they weren't letting the enemy know it. Ember's uniform was the bloodiest of all, but that didn't stop her from shooting. Gordon forced a roar out of his lungs, burning his throat and ribcage. Let 'em shake in fear.

The pain finally came through to his mind, and he fell over, clutching his side. Maybe his wound was worse than he'd thought... but their job was done. From around the south side of the barrier, gunshots rang out from their second squad, and the Moonie squad's screams of fear and agony accentuated the stinging bite that kept him glued to the mud below.

Blue Moon Forward HQ (Coral Fortress), Alara Region

9:43 AM

'They did not react when I ordered it.' Petrine's voice was icy cold. 'I ordered them north, away from our enemy's flanking squads. They stayed down, pinned, and were slaughtered like cattle. A disgrace to Blue Moon.'

Bashmet bit his lip. The situation had turned against them quickly. Fleeing the explosive mortar fire and sniper-accurate shelling from the Bowlheads' tanks, their southern infantry advanced too far and reacted too slow. Petrine had hoped to use them to dislodge the mortar on the hill, but now it was far too late. They were now so cornered that they couldn't even escape to defend the HQ – any survivors would be sitting ducks as they fleed. If they were smart, they would surrender.

Now, any hopes of stopping the mortar fire from the hill fell upon the tanks, and those already had their work cut out for them against Orange Star's tanks. Worst of all, their only infantry support remaining was there to destroy Orange Star's other tanks, meaning that Orange Star's anti-tank squads on the north hill would be free to tear apart their armor.

'If we retreat now...' Bashmet started.

'No. We shall continue the charge against Orange Star's tanks. We are long past the point of retreat.' It wasn't just out of scorn for her soldiers' underperformance; it was practical. Orange Star's tanks were still being directed by the enemy commander, meaning that they could snipe away at their tanks during the retreat. Two of their tanks were already damaged; most likely, they would lose everything the moment they turned their backs.

'Understood. I'll plot the best-covered route for our advance.' Bashmet returned to the satellite feeds. It was merely damage control from here, but any damage they inflicted upon their enemy here would slow them down in the next battle.

9:44 AM

Gordon felt hands on his side. He opened his eyes, and saw Mila Tayless holding him down, spraying some Emeraldine solution onto his wounded side.

"Hold still while Shave patches you up." Lead grinned down at him. "Looks like you got it pretty bad. Shrapnel got through your vest. Hit something you probably didn't want it to, but it looks like you're breathing just fine."

"The battle..." he croaked.

Rainy nodded. "Yeah. Lead's getting us in shelter since those tanks are still out there, but their remaining troops aren't going for us. They're making a beeline for our tanks."

"Doesn't make any sense, but whatever." Lead laughed. "If they wanna kill themselves, I won't stop 'em."

Another thought came to Gordon's head. "Shave?" he asked.

"Private Tayless had a pretty close one with that shell back there. Ain't many soldiers who can brag that they almost tanked a seventy-five." As Lead grinned, Mila looked like she'd wished she'd been hit. "So now she's Close Shave Mila. As for you, that was a pretty crazy yell you gave back there. Didn't sound like you were in pain at all."

"I try," Gordon quipped. He heard the sound of the mortar still firing somewhere close. Pound was tireless, it seemed.

"Sounded like a wild animal, you did," Rainy said. "Almost more feral than Ember."

"That's it, then. From now on, you're Wild." Lead slapped him on the shoulder, causing a wave of pain that he kept off his face. "Consider this your initiation. I'm proud to have someone like you in the squad."

10:45 AM

"Close one." Stoneham came in, looking even more perturbed usual. "But perhaps the least costly operation of the war for me thus far, so I can overlook the flaws in your planning."

"Does that mean you'll get off my back now?" David could barely think in his exhaustion. A few minutes ago, the last of the Blue Moon tank crews had been taken into custody by their soldiers. The battle was finally over, with a few temporary fatalities and no permanent ones. It was a result any soldier would dream of. David could hardly believe it himself.

"You could have just tossed out an order to shut up." Stoneham sighed. "I'll be frank. I had quite some difficulty seeing you as an authority before, but I'm a results man, and I can't dispute these quite excellent results. I respected you as a weapon before, Carroll, but now I can respect you as a commander, even if your methods don't quite line up in my book."

He did not smile when saying this, but David grasped that it wasn't he who Stoneham was angry with. "Stoneham. Something I should know?"

Stoneham slumped against the wall, then fumbled with his cigar case, taking the second-to-last one in his hand and fumbling with the lighter. David grabbed one from the desk and lit the large smoke for him.

"Appreciated." He took a long puff, then spoke. "It's the battle for the capital. We've just about reached the end of our borrowed time, Advisor."

David's chest grew cold. "Wait. What?"

"I'm afraid it's true, Advisor. The city's last line has been breached and the Jefferson Tower is being stormed by the enemy."

It couldn't be. "No. What about the General Command Staff? General Nell?"

"No news on their fates. I don't believe we can rely on orders from above for a few days at least." Stoneham glared past David. "We're on our own now. Our victory here is the only bright spot in all this. We've won phase one of the battle, but there's a war out there. We need to strike back."

"Which means...?" David gulped unconsciously.

"Once Blue Moon spreads out from the capital, they have a clear shot at our ass. Can't count on these rivers to block off the Moonies anymore. If we want to live, we have to reach some damn good ground." Stoneham slumped. "No rest for the wicked, advisor. The Coral Fortress must fall as quick as we can make it there, or we'll soon be drowned in a swarm of those scumbags."