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The dust had settled and there was no more signs of life on the brood's part. Bubba lay face-down in a pool of his own noxious blood and brain, and the surviving troopers were now milling around, guns held tight as their horror-filled gazes searched the land for anymore trouble. Hawthorne looked around, stunned, leaning against the back of the Caiman. Someone shouted for Lieutenant Dove, spurring her mind back into action. A group of them sprinted across to the 'yala. It was on its side, half-buried in what was left of the house's collapsed porch.

Lillith leapt onto the side of the cab, Lucy waiting below, fumbling through her medical pouches as the large cougar pried the door open. Another medic circled to the back and a group of troopers started helping him to remove the smouldering debris so they could get to the back door. Lillith pulled a stunned collie from behind the steering wheel and eased him down to Lucy. The tiger, with Hawthorne's help, carried him across to a bare patch of ground where she started checking his wounds and guiding one of the rookies on how to apply splints before trotting back to the 'yala. Hawthorne climbed up behind Lillith and peered down into the cab. Lieutenant Dove was sprawled awkwardly against his door, a foot caught in the steering wheel, his shoulders pressed against his side window. His head was at an awkward angle and his eyes were glazed.

'Shit.' Lillith muttered, 'He was a good'un, too.'

'Leave him be for now. We'll set the 'yala back on its wheels once we've sorted things out.' Hawthorne said softly. 'Then we can get him.'

They dropped to the dirt and passed the news of Dove's death around. It was met with mixed reactions, some turning away from the news with tears in their eyes, others adopting a wooden expression.

'You're now in charge, Sergeant.' Jess said.

Hawthorne nodded. Of course she was. Jess was simply voicing that fact for the others.

'Gunner's dead, too.' Lucy sighed, emerging from the rear of the 'yala with the other field medic, a grim looking calico. She was wiping her hands on her cargos, smearing the mottled green and brown farbic with fresh blood. 'Let's check on the semi-'

'Dead.' Winter said bleakly as he surveyed the mess.

The heavy truck had been rolled on its side. The truck's kingpin had been snapped and the joint had been twisted. The trailer was on its roof and the tractor was on its wheels, its side door smashed in, the roof ripped open. It sagged on its suspension and a yellow lab with a medic's band on his bicep was standing beside it, shaking his head.

'Sunny was thrown from the turret. Broke his everything as he landed. Driver's had his head split open... It ain't pretty.' He said grimly. He looked around at the survivors, frowning as he did a head count. Hawthorne did the same. Everyone she could see was all that there was left. 'Eight rookies left, not bad for this level of B.S.'

'Let's get the 'yala back on its wheels and see if we can do the same for the trailer. We can tow them home.' She paused, looking at their mangled semi tractor then to Trash, seeing the old dustcart's flat tyre and dented flank, 'We'll have to see about sending Timpany and his crew out to haul the rest in. I don't want to push our luck with Trash's health.' The dustcart's driver nodded in agreement. There was a steady drip of fluids from beneath the engine, staining the dirt beneath.

'And the six-by...?' Lillith asked slowly. She looked over her shoulder and at the old armoured vehicle. Eva had sidled up to it and the bear was having a good look at it.

Hawthorne slowly approached, eyeballing the fallen form of Bubba behind the dented truck. He was beginning to smell even worse and strips of flesh were already starting to slough from his body. Eva sighed and shook her head, stepping away from the big 130mm gun in its bed.

'I don't know how, don't much care about the biology of it all, but Bubba's fused with the whole thing.' Eva said with a shake of her head, 'There's bands of muscle around the drive shaft, inside the engine bay, the running gear's been crushed and the gun's a write off.' She explained, gesturing at the vehicle. Armoured maintenance panels hung open and the trailer sat at an awkward angle behind the dented cab.

Hawthorne gingerly climbed up the back of the trailer and peered into the barrel of the gun, recoiling at the smell. She scrunched her face up and dropped back to the ground with a wretch.

'What th' fuck?' She gagged.

'My reaction exactly, 'cept I wasn't dumb enough to get that close.' Eva grinned suddenly. Her expression then darkened, 'All this madness and we don't even get a big gun out of it.' She added with a sigh. Hawthorne gave her a mildly disapproving look, 'At least the Farm's finally been cleared out, right?'

'Right.'

'What do we do about this?'

'Leave it. I ain't cutting Bubba out of the gun or the rest of the truck, and I don't think you want to, either.'

'Burn it?' Eva queried. They'd burned pretty much everything else and from the smell of it, there was some fuel left in the vehicle's tank.

'We gotta dispose of the bodies. Too risky to leave them for carrion.' Hawthorne eyed the truck and Bubba, then walked to the lip of the hole that had once been a hill. It was deep with steep sides, like a bomb crater. 'This'll make a nice firepit. Get the truck and Bubba into the hole. Use Little Pat as extra muscle if you need to. I'll have a chat with Winter, see if he can fix up some of his fancy incendiaries whilst the rest of us start collecting bodies.' She paused, looking at the carnage, 'And body parts.'

'Yes Ma'am. I'll get right on it.'

The next two hours were spent collecting limbs, entrails and mouldering carcasses for the growing pile in the bottom of the hole. Little Pat had winched the crippled 6x6 into the pit and together with Trash's help, they had shunted and pulled Bubba ontop of it. The sun had started to sink towards the horizon by the time Winter threw a pair of un-capped jerry cans into the pit followed by a flashbang. There was a bright explosion and pallid flames roared into the evening sky, carrying the stench of hot metal and burning meat on the hot breeze. They soon settled into a more normal, orange-red hue as they started to die down. Hawthorne looked behind her and at the Caiman sitting on the track behind them. Their RG-31 was hooked up to the rear of the modified Caiman whilst Trash was set up for towing the trailer back to town. Cozy was parked behind them, a female chihuahua sat in the turret, her slight form dwarfed by the belt-fed.

Their own dead had been loaded into both the 'yala and the armoured trailer, and Little Pat had pulled its bridge back up and was now waiting for them at the front gate. Hawthorne edged closer to the lip of the pit, peering into its smouldering depths. Piles of shattered bones smouldered, blackened by the fire, atop and scattered around the scorched hulk of the 6x6. Curls of charred meat peeled away from the vehicle's chassis and the metal was clicking and pinging in places as the fire ebbed. Hawthorne turned around and looked across the gathering of survivors.

Less than half of what they had started the day with remained.

'Let's go home, guys. There's not much else we can do here.' She said and waved them back to their vehicles. She cast one last forlorn look at Pickle, their technical as she slid into the Caiman's cab beside Eva.

The sun had disappeared below the horizon by the time the convoy had rolled back into Taggart's MechYard, the troopers dismounting sluggishly, dragged down by the weight of their armour, guns and fatigue. Everyone was exhausted, miserable and wanted nothing more than to have a cold shower, a cold beer and a week-long power nap. Commander Lopez greeted them when they handed over their vehicles to the mechanics, muttering to them a warning about the dead they were hauling. The local hospital was called by Deckard, the Yard's chief mechanic and owner, and a pair of unassuming vans appeared not long after the call had gone out. Eva drove the Caiman into the workshop, settling it over the frame of a hoist, ready to be inspected. The 'yala, Cozy, Trash and Little Pat followed suit, comandeered by a group of mechanics. The workshop doors rattled down behind them and the sounds of vehicles being stripped echoed from within the sprawling building.

'How many dead?' Lopez asked as he watched the EMTs loading the dead troopers into the backs of their vans. They had gathered what bodies they could. Innumerous others had burned with the farm house or been lost to Bubba's swinging tail. Hawthorne told him and he grunted a noncommital response.

'Lieutenant Dove's dead, too.' She sighed, rubbing her face with the heel of her hand.

Lopez nodded, 'My office, please. Now.'

Hawthorne followed Lopez out of the MechYard and across the road. He allowed her to drop her guns off at the armoury with Miguel before he lead her into the squat building the officers had claimed for themselves when the town had been founded by Taggart Snr. She followed him in silence up to the top floor, where his office was situated, overlooking the armoury, MechYard and Vehicle Pen.

'Damn shame. Eric was a good man and an excellent officer.' Lopez sighed as he settled heavily into his chair. He gestured for Hawthorne to take a seat opposite. 'Tell me what happened out there, Sergeant.'

Hawthorne swallowed the hard lump that had formed in her throat. It was only just starting to sink in that what had happened that day had really happened. And just how close the Farm was to Taggart and Apple Farm. Her hands shook. She needed food and rest. Maybe some medical attention, too. Her back hurt and her shoulder felt twisted. During the start of their deranged bonfire, Paul and Toby had explained to her that it was Jesse who had put Bubba's eye out, removed the 6x6 and ventilated his skull. And so Hawthorne explained it all to Lopez, starting from the moment they had split their convoy up right up until the moment they drove out of the Farm's yard and put the blighted property at their backs.

Lopez nodded, listening intently as she spoke. When she was finished, he reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a pair of Lieutenant's patches. He slid them across the desktop to her, leaving them untouched between a stack of paperwork and a stained, empty coffee mug. The lioness stared at them, uncomprehending.

Then her brain caught up with what Lopez was saying.

'Sir?'

'I've lost one of two of my lieutenants today and I'm damned if I'll be letting Kushner's head get any bigger by giving him Dove's responsibilities. I want you to pick a new sergeant. Tonight, tomorrow, I don't care, so long as you have one by the end of the week.' The bear pulled himself out of his chair and stood at his full height as Hawthorne carefully plucked her new rank from his desk. He saluted her, 'Lieutenant Hawthorne,'

She stood up and returned the salute, 'Commander Lopez. Thank you. I won't disappoint you or Lieutenant Dove.'

'You better not.' He growled at her. Then he added, almost as an afterthought, 'This does not give you the authority to break Kushner's nose again. Got it?'

A smile tugged lightly at the corners of her mouth, 'Understood, Sir.'

'Now fuck off and find me a new sergeant.'

Hawthorne hurried from his office and out into the humid night air, bumping into Raul. He grabbed her and spun her around, laughing and pulled her in for a tight hug.

'You live!' He crowed.

'And I've just been promoted, too.' She said, her voice muffled against his chest.

He gently put her at arm's length, his hands still gently gripping her shoulders. He looked concerned, 'Dove...?'

She nodded and he let out a ream of curses in Mexican. He then looked her up and down, flashing her a reassuring smile, 'You'll do well. And Dove'd love the idea that you're now on an equal footing with Kushner. He'd call it poetic justice or some shit.'

Hawthorne laughed as the jaguar walked her up the road, 'I hurt. I want food, I want sex, I want sleep and I want a wash.' She complained.

'Any particular order?' He asked, looping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer.

'I'd like to sleep on a full stomach. Maybe some morning sex...'

'The Trough it is, then.' He purred. 'And then to bed.'

When Hawthorne told Jess about her promotion the next day, the doberman congratulated her and asked if Kushner knew.

'I have no idea. I hope not. I want to see the look on his face when he finds out.' Hawthorne replied, pushing a chunk of fried potato into her mouth.

Apple Farm's crops were better than expected and made a nice addition to Taggart's own harvest, making her breakfast far better than it had any right to be. Raul sat beside her, one arm draped across the back of her chair. Food, sleep then sex had happened in that order and the pair of them had been practically purring when they had walked into The Trough that morning. Jake and Corby sat beside Jess, the greyhound and vixen enthusiastically digging into their breakfast. Lillith wandered in with Taylor and Winter trailing behind her. The three of them looked exhausted and they slumped into the chairs at the table next to the others.

'I'll have what they're having.' Winter rumbled to the mouse.

She turned her attention to Lillith and Taylor, scribbling the order down.

'Same for me, please, Chrissy.' Lillith said with a yawn.

'You got any waffles left?' Taylor asked hopefully.

'Plenty of waffles today. You want your fave?' Chrissy asked.

'Please. Lots of syrup, extra cream and the strongest coffee you can brew.' Taylor said.

'you'll be bouncing off the walls in no time.' Jess said around a mouthful of bacon.

Chrissy laughed and hurried back into the kitchen to pass their order on.

'I have an announcement to make.' Hawthorne said, 'I've been promoted to Lieutenant.' There was a chorus of congratulations and a quick toasting of the news and Dove's memory. 'I am, however, short a sergeant...'

'Got anyone in mind?' Jake asked.

Hawthorne grinned mischievously and pulled a set of her old rank markings from a pocket, placing them on the table. She slid the patches towards Jess and said, 'Congratulations, Sergeant Smith. I look forward to working with you.'

Jess nearly choked on her fried potatoes.