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Aboard the frigate Kingship, the 5th division held its celebration. True, there were a substantial number of casualties, but it was tradition to celebrate a victory, to commemorate success and comrades alike. The 33rd Marine Battalion was stationed on the ship as well, so it was fair that they joined the party too. A fair number of the party-going soldiers were bandaged, but, on the deck, drinks and food were distributed, and the party commenced despite wounds of all sorts.

During the next few hours aboard the Kingship, Mal was hailed all over the ship. He was toasted, patted on the back numerous times, even asked to have 'fun'. Mal good-naturedly turned down the last bit, telling them he had a lovely lady to talk with when he got home. Unfortunately, the ship's telephone had been damaged during the fight, and the telegram station was in use already by command. Mal sighed; he couldn't wait for the relief switch, and get a few months to be home with Dianna.

Admiral Vlad Sly had a clever plan to usurp and destroy the Brigadier Imperial fleet, and it started out in such a simple manner, no one would suspect it. Having his network of spies infiltrate and disable the navy communications center, ensuring any and all transmissions via frequency or telephone were disabled via a phone, Sly would ensure that no assistance would come to the smaller vessels as he picked them off, one by one.

First, the fox reminded himself; he needed to enjoy his latest conquest. One of his favorite and efficient ways of keeping lower ranking and naïve officers in check were via seduction. Sly looked down to the young cheetah, her mouth currently occupied with his member. What had started out as a performance review in his office had come to this. Petty Officer Helga Shidia had been successfully seduced, and was pleasing him at both their personal expenses. Her mouth wrapped firmly around his hard cock, sucking hard.

Before such pleasure could continue however, a small alarm sounded in the captain's quarters. The private comm installed crackled to life, "Admiral, we are coming upon the first ship." The Admiral sighed, breaking away from the eager Shidia. Cum dripping from her lips as she stood up, smiling, Shidia bowed respectfully as thanks. Sly only patted her on the head, picking up the communicator for the comm, "Excellent. Commence attack Lef-tenant."

Eventually the party came to an end, and the soldiers were ordered back to their posts. New orders were to regroup with the rest of the fleet and plan for the next attack. While the Kingship made her way to the rendezvous, a lone soldier grew homesick as well as seasick. He was never suited for the vast open sea, Mal grumbled to himself while hanging over the railings of the ship. While the other crew members of the Kingship went about their business, Mal dreamt of three things: Home, solid land, and Dianna.

He looked over his shoulder, his thoughts disturbed. A group of marines was walking towards him, a leopard, tiger, and a dragon, each with a private's scratch on their arms. The sergeant shook his head, smiling to himself. "Well, what can I do for you boys and girls?" Mal asked politely as the group got close enough, and the leopard replied curtly, "We have some question for you sergeant." Mal shrugged, "Well alright. Shoot." All Mal could guess at this movement was simple; just a bunch of new greens wanting to get some advice from a more experienced, though hardly older, soldier.

The tiger began with his question, "What is it like being in the fifth?" Mal chuckled, "Sure of a lot harder than what you marines expect out of us army grunts." The group, with the exception of the dragon, chuckled. "The training is what you would guess to be the most strenuous, beyond that, its just guns, tactics, and explosions." The leopard was next.

"What medals did you rack up while in training Sarge?" Mal thought back, the last time he actually wore those medals he earned during training was at his Special Forces graduation, and that was only a few months back. But, a few months of war can really be a mind scrambler. "Hmm, if I remember correctly, I got my best in my support gunning, won a medal for side arm marksmanship, oh, and in hand to hand combat, winning me this bad boy." Mal unsheathed the bowie knife he held so close, the recently cleaned blade reflecting the sun's light. The leopard's eyes fixed on the blade, a look of some envy in the blade in her eyes.

The dragon was the last to go, and he seemed to find this conversation not too pleasant or interesting. "Well, I have one for you 'human'," the dragon said with mild distaste. "How does a human make it into one of our best forces?" Now, Mal could have guessed what kind of upbringing this dragon had come from. The Brigadier Imperial Government looked down on humans and found the human population to be good cannon fodder as well as a sturdy workforce.

Rarely did a human ever rise in the Empire's society; there were only a few exceptions, Brigadier General Harris McKor being one of them. Being the actual head of the Special Forces division as well as a standing politician, he is the only human given much respect. Obviously, this dragon had no intent of showing such respect to Mal, despite rank.

Mal replied in a polite, yet with some control over the anger in his tone. "Well, same way as they let you into the Marine Corps. You earned your way in there, am I right?" The dragon nodded, "Well then, now you get a better idea of how I got in the 5th, hard work." Mal stood up, looking up the taller dragon, a scowl attached to his face. "Your not going to question that, are you private?" The dragon didn't break his gaze, and was about to reply, until a loud whistle sounded over the deck. "All hands, we are approaching the fleet!" The announcement rang over the intercom, and everyone turned to port, to see what had been assembled. Nearly half a dozen carriers, four capitol ships, and at least ten frigates were in total as it was.

One of the capitol ships was the largest of the four, and had a deployable fueling station attached. Soon the Kingship was put into tow with the pride of the Brigadier Imperial Navy, the Damascus. The ship was twice the size of any standard Correlation battleship, and had more firepower as well. The amount of crew members it took to run the ship, or what rumors Mal had heard, was that it was the equivalent of a small city. As the Kingship docked with the much larger ship, engineers flooded from the other ship, with orders to begin repairs as soon as possible.

But, Mal pondered on only one thought as he looked from frigate to frigate, in particular looking at the names on the hulls: Where was the Odyssey?

The Odyssey, the sister ship to the Kingship, was sinking faster than a pile of rocks. Admiral Sly made short work of the frigate, ever so joyful the latest model of submarine was performing so well. As the broken fragments of the enemy frigate continued their descent, the admiral ordered the shiphunter class submarine to surface. The submarine tilted as it ascended with a slight jolt as it broke the surface. The sleek, black shiphunter class submarine, named Raven, was the latest in Correlation navy technology. And Admiral Sly had the gift of taking her on her first voyage.

However, Sly couldn't enjoy this new submarine to the full extent. A higher power, the Grand Military Council, had ordered Sly to take the Raven out for a recon of a rumored Brigadier Imperial invasion. Over the past few weeks, he'd been observing or sinking any straggling Imperial ships. But now, Sly thought in anticipation, the real fun was about to begin.

Hidden by a cove of rocks, the admiral had gotten close enough to view the Imperial fleet. The fleet was massive at this point, attacked with only the Raven guaranteed little success. But what Sly could do, on the other hand, was inform his fellow Correlation navy personal and attack the Brigadier Empire with its pants down. Grinning at the personal reference, Sly barked an order to a nearby ensign: signal the fleet.

The bar on the Damascus was suited for the lonely soldier, and Mal found it to his liking. A few drinks, some stories around the table, a couple games of cards, and now just laying back, listening to the band on board play some jazz. Sitting alone from the rest of the group gave Mal the well earned quiet time that he deserved. Then the familiar figure of one of his closest friends approached, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Damn man, you look like a dog just chewed you up, and then had its way with you," the figure began in his particular and thick accent. Mal grinned, "Huh, didn't know your boyfriend was double timing on you eh Conrad?" The tiger chuckled, giving his friend a friendly embrace, "Nah, Mal it's good to see ya buddy."

"Likewise Conrad; how has life been for you in the airborne?"

The tiger huffed, "I've been landing on my ass more than my feet I can tell you that my friend. I can only tell you how many times I wish I had wings instead of one of those damn parachutes." Corporal Conrad Petrov of the 27th Marine Paratrooper Regiment looked up, beckoning the bartender over for a drink. Turning his attention back to the sergeant, "So, how are you and your lady friend Mal?"

Mal closed his eyes, shaking his head with a smile. "Haven't spoken to her in awhile Conrad, but things are going smoothly."

Conrad grinned, shifting his sights over to a group of females with one dragoness in particular in the center. "You know, if what you say is true about your Dianna, I think I might have a thing for her sister."

Mal chuckled, "Good luck with that one Conrad, and I've warned Arua about you already." Conrad frowned, "Gaw, you're no fun." As a waitress came to deliver the drinks, the distinct noise of a fighter plane was heard echoing above. One of the pilots from a table stood up, a look of alarm on his face. "That's not one of ours,' he muttered at first. Looking up, he yelled, "That's not one of ours!" Soon that alarm spred and the soldiers on board leapt from their seats, all dashing from the armory. While Conrad had gone off with the others, Mal ran in the other direction, toward the bunks.

Finding his quarters, Mal threw on his sergeant's cap and jacket, grabbed his bowie knife, Bart 78 Revolver, dogtags, and pocketed the best picture he had of Dianna, and ran topside to help his comrades.

Enemy fighters filled the skies, equaled only by the anti-aircraft fire sent in to eliminate them. Despite the heavy aerial bombardment, the nimble fighters managed to avoid getting hit, and would swoop in to deal heavy damage. Looking on the deck of the undocked Kingship, Mal looked over to the ship's captain directing navy personal from the deck. Running over to him, Mal yelled, "Sir, where is the air support?!" The captain turned to him, worry on his face, "The carriers are under heavy fire, they're afraid if they bring the fighters to surface, they'll be shoot off at the ramp. Right now, we're getting squads ready for a boat insertion to attack the battleship laying fire down on the carriers!" He yelled back with equal vigor.

Mal nodded, fighting on foot was much more preferable than getting ordered to replace a fighter gunner, and he absolutely hated flying. Even better, a full blown battleship wouldn't pay much attention to two small boats of saboteurs sneaking aboard; they'd be distracted by other matters. "Sir, permission to assist in the assault sir," The captain glared and replied with a salute, "Sergeant, you can lead the gods damn thing yourself!" Pointing Mal in the direction of the boats as a fighter bomber came a little too close; the Captain was more than eager to get the attack underway.

There were a total of fifteen soldiers. The majority of the soldiers were rifleman marines, two machine gunners, one corpsman, and Mal himself. Walking towards the group, the corporal of the group nodded out of respect, tossing the sergeant a SANAF 12 gauge shotgun, "Orders Sarge." Raising his voice, "Alright boys and girls. Saddle up." Genira pointed at the objective, the destroyer Cutter, "I'm sure you've been briefed, but the matter is we have to get those turrents offline." The sergeant laid out his plan for the attack, simple and would minimalize casualties. Using the transfer decks that outlined the outer hull of a Correlation destroyer, the squads would break into two groups, planting charges at each of the guns as they went along. Keeping silence was a matter of importance, so using the loud ordinance was kept to a negative until utterly necessary. No questions came after Mal gave his presentation. The boats were prepared, and the small, loyal, and brave group of soldiers set out on their dangerous mission.

Thousands of miles away from the battle at sea, a dragoness was alone in a hospital bed in the city of Imperator, the Correlation capitol. Nahura Valestro, proud mate to the infamous chief general of the correlation, had just given birth to the couple's first. A young dragoness, Thalia to be her name, was so beautiful to her mother. Of the rare red hue color, of her mother's of course, the child was noisily sucking at her mother's breast. The door opened slowly as Chief General Hamis Valestro entered the room. Nahura smiled, remembering that despite the fact that when she and her mate met, he was nothing but a brown-scale misfit out in boot camp. How that relationship matured was now proven at the little bundle in Nahura's arms.

Hamis looked down, proud and happy. As his daughter took her lips away from her mother's breast, she looked up at him with those big, round saucer like eyes. He smiled; looking to his loving mate his kissed her on the muzzle.

"Now now Hamie..." Nahura said, calling him by his play name. "Don't be so flirty in front of our baby girl. She might pick up on your side of the family." She winked playfully, and Hamis grinned. "Oh, how ever so," He replied in a mock dramatic voice, silently of course, "That our beloved daughter take after me than her absolutely gorgeous mother." Her parents giggling gently, Thalia went back to her drinking, oblivious to her parent's play.

Both parents could only look at their daughter lovingly, forgetting the war, forgetting everything that could ruin this moment.

The distraction that was required came at a much closer quarter than expected. The frigate Langley_drew fire from the heavily equipped Correlation destroyer. The unnoticed speed boats were making their way silently toward the decks of the _Cutter. Since all hands on deck had their attention on the Langley, the lower access decks were unguarded. While the ship's guns roared overhead, the small boats silently made their way across the ship's boarding section. Leaving two soldiers to guard the boats for the escape, the mission was a go.

Mal drew his bowie knife, taking point of his squad. He figured he could find the heavy ship turrents on his side based on the noise, and astute and very obvious choice. The best part about the noise, he mused, it would mask the approach...shit! He cursed in his thoughts as he turned a corner. Quickly double taking, he avoided alerting a guard who was taking a smoke. Wrong time for that my friend, Mal thought. Signaling his squad to halt, Mal waited for the opportune moment. The ship's guns went off in their loud crescendo, and no one noticed the guard's bleeding body as it landed into the sea.

Looking around for any other unexpected surprises, Mal signaled for his squad to move up. From this point, the engineer could hang from the ship's deck and deploy the explosives without being noticed. It would be lengthy, Mal noted as the engineer got to work, but it would be effective in this time. There were a total of three big guns that had the captains worried, the AA guns would, by their estimation, be harmed in the explosions if everything went according to plan. Within ten minutes, and three more barrages from the enemy guns, Mal side was clear. Waiting for the engineer to shimmy over, the group returned to the evac point, without anyone guarding the stations like earlier.

Mal was suspicious on the matter, but usually he was wrong. A few minutes late, the other squad appeared as well, their explosives placed as well. Now, Mal though, they just had to return to the ship...a massive explosion rocked the air as one of the Correlation's gunners hit home. The Langley was now a floating fireball, the only sound across the quiet waves was that of the nearby battle.

As the small boats made their way from the battleship, a chorus of cheers rose above the sound of the fight. The team's lead engineer turned to Mal and handed him the detonator, "It's all yours sir." Mal turned toward the enemy ship, and prepared the detonator. "The Langley sends her final regards, sorry to ruin your party." With a push of a mere button, the deck of the Cutter was in chaos, though it didn't bring the Langley and her crew back, it was nonetheless satisfying. One of the lesser privates gave a small cheer, but Mal silenced him. "Kid, this fight has just begun."