One Warren, One Fight

A joint Collaboration amoung Bryan Hall, Jim "Steekman" Stickney, Randy "Smudge" Carnahan, and Scott Bernier. Posted to alt.devilbunnies July, 1997 (except prologue--May 1997). This battle takes place immediatly after The Little Runaway.

Copyright 1997 by the four authors above.
First HTML-ized 1 August 1997 by Scott Bernier

Captain Stickney knocked and entered Sgt Saak's office as requested. He saluted the base CO.

Saak looked serious. "We just got a transmission from NoCO, Captain." She depressed a toggle switch. "Put it through."

On screen, LT McMalley appeared and looked serious. "Thank you for summoning the Captain, Sgt Saak. I want you to hear this also. We have a serious problem. It would be easier for me to show you than try and explain it." McMalley played the Volo Bog kit-killing tape over the transmission while briefing the two of them of what had transpired since then.

"I'm not getting any cooperation out of Captain Sawyer in this investigation, Captian Stickney. I want you to leave at once and start an investigation into this kit-killing and do what you can to prevent this from becoming a bunny rallying cry. Sergeant Saak, you are to provide Captain Stickney with what equipment he needs."

The two of them saluted. "And what about the Major and his daughters, sir?" Stickney asked.

"I'm sure Sgt Saak can assign someone to them when they're ready to depart back to Maine. Any further questions?" (pause) "Good, LT McMalley, NoCO Command, out."

Captain George Stickney said quick farewells to the Major and Blake's daughters and was on a charter plane to Illinois before evening.

Captain George Stickney had lost track of the time that had past as he attempted to investigate the alleged kit killing by one or more of the Lakemoor, IL Fudds. Captain Sawyer had greeted him warmly, and bade him look around and speak to whomever he wished. Then, he'd been literally buried under a mountain of paperwork every time, or engaged in some other aspect of command that effectively removed him from George's reach. It was annoying, and concerning at the same time.

Still, he'd managed to speak to everyone on the field teams, except for the team led by Cpl. Crenishaw. That particular team, the one he'd most wanted to speak to, had been on field ops for the past week and a half.

Finally, that evening Stickney spotted the Fudd, Crenishaw, in the mess hall and sat down across from him to eat dinner. Crenishaw saluted absently and went back to eating his meal, but seemed distinctly unhappy about being cornered.

"Mind if I ask you a few questions, Crpl?"

Crenishaw glanced momentarily at Captain Stickney. "I do, but you're going to ask anyway aren't you?" He went back to eating.

"Why did one of your men kill that kit?"

"One less bun to deal with in the future, Captain," he took another bight of food and chewed. "All buns in the field are suspect."

"Even civilians and kits?"

"They were in the middle of the battlefield, sir" Crenishaw spat. "And I'll have you know that the lard asses at NoCO probably haven't seen field work in so long, they don't remember how to swing an axe! They are not the ones that have to go out into the field and after the buns!" Crenishaw began raising his voice, to the point that it was a nearly ear-splitting howl. "WE don't have the luxury of molly-coddling the damned buns, Captain! And I'll tell you one last thing, too! I'll be DAMNED if I give up my life and leave my wife a widow and my daughter an orphan just to follow your damned rules and leave a bun alive that she will have to fight some other day!" With that, Crenishaw flung his meal tray across the room where it splattered on a wall. He stomped off, complaining vocally about 'The Brass' that couldn't tell there arse-holes from their elbows.

By this time, Stickney felt the eyes of almost everyone else in the mess hall staring at him. He got-up from his meal, took the tray to the disposal area and left. Back in his room he sent a message off to NoCO reporting the situation. George would not sleep easily that night.

[Meanwhile at Down East Command, Bangor, ME...]

There was a tapping on his door.

"Enter"

(salutefluff) "Sir, we've determined the coordinates of the rouge warren."

"Excellent." Browny CrimsonPaw (fangygrinned). "Has my brother agreed to my plan?"

"Yes, he has, though hesitantly."

(waveofffluff) "Well, then, get started with phase one. I'll start composing a message to the new warren leader at McHenry Warren. Dismissed."

*****TIGHTBEAM TO LAKEMOOR FUDD BASE*****

(Salute) I have been asked by my superiors to congratulate your men on their efforts to eliminate a few more of the Fluffy Horde™ from our world. My superiors understand your frustration with the softening standpoint of the Army of Fudd and their interference in your sworn duties to protect mankind from evil devilbunnies.

I have been asked to offer you and your soldiers membership in our organization, which unlike the current AoF command is free from bunny influence. We ask little of our members except, kill all bunnies on site.

As a token of our sincerity, we have located a bunny warren near your local. My superiors are sure you'll know exactly what to do with this information. We've worked painstakenly for weeks triangulating the transmissions from this warren and have determined it's location to be within quarter-mile square highlighted region of Volo Bog on the enclosed map.

Good hunting and we will contact you again later.

Brawn Crimson, The Wanderers
[GIF map enclosed]

*****END TIGHTBEAM*****

Wanderer name used with permission.

[Timeline about 6 hours before Callie and company arrive at McHenry Bunmover Terminal...]

Captain Sawyer removed his glasses and rubbed at his graying temples. With a sigh, he stood up from his desk and walked over to the liquor cabinet on one wall. Rank has its privilidge, and all that.

He poured himself a glass of port, and sat down on an easy chair. What was he going to do? His men were becoming more and more hostile to Captain Stickney, and were teetering on the edge of mutiny. He'd covered for them as much as possible, burying their indiscretions deep within military technicalese, and outright mis-direction.

But that kit killing.. that had brought down way too much heat. He'd long since discovered that his communications had been tapped into, so there was little he could do to report the situation to NoCO. But now that Captain Stickney was here.. now he could report to him in person and then he could go and get Internal Security called in from NoCO to help him clean up the mess here.

He threw on his casuals, and headed over to Captain Stickney's room. As expected, there were two guards standing outside the door.

"Dismissed."

The guards looked at eachother, but didn't move.

"I said dismissed soldiers!" Sawyer bellowed, in the Drill Instructor voice that all soldiers feared.

One of the Fudds shot him a textbook salute, while the other gave a salute of a much less official, and much more profane kind. Things were ending soon, and these two were probably going to head over to Crenishaw now. He had little time.

George Stickney awoke with a start. He'd heard someone yelling right outside his door, and, as he'd expected, he wasn't sleeping well after that encounter with Crenishaw. He quietly reached for his sidearm that he'd placed nearby.

A knock sounded on his door.

"Enter," George said, making his voice sound sleepy, to conceal the fact that he was ready for action.

"Captain Stickney? It's Captain Sawyer. If you could come with me quickly, there's little time."

Now this was unexpected. "Coming!" George hastily donned his uniform, and met Greg at the door.

"Captain, we must go to my office. We're never going to get off the base, and I want you to know what has happened here, so that you can get the true story to NoCO."

They ran at top speeds to Greg's office.

"Look, Captain Sawyer, what the hell is going on?"

Greg looked like a block of stone, and stared at George. "George, there isn't much time, so I must give you the important information first. My men have become dissatisfied and disillusioned with NoCO and Fudd High Command. They have been bugging all my communications routes out, so I could not notify NoCO. My movements have been monitored, so I could not head to NoCO myself. By doing as I have done, I *have* managed to mediate this mess somewhat, but that is rapidly coming to a close. Let me show you a tightbeam that just arrived."

"What the.." George said.

"Yes. That's the last straw. Nothing I can do now will be able to contain Crenishaw from mutiny now. Here.. take and hide this disk," Sawyer said, sliding a zip-drive disk over the tabletop. George took it, and slid it into a hidden pocket on his uniform coat. "That disk contains all the goings on here at the base. I only wish I could have gotten it to you sooner, Captain, but had I done so, Crenishaw would have led the mutiny sooner, and there would have been a lot more damage done to the general area. I was only recently able to sabotage some of the heavier armaments and get them transferred out. I didn't want Crenishaw to have access to field-pieces and.."

The office door burst open, and a thunderclap sounded. Captain Greg Sawyer teetered for a moment, then slumped to the floor, with a round hole in the center of his forehead.

"That was for the traitor, NoCO puppet! But as for you.. We'll deal with you later! Tie him up, and get the keys to the armory off of Sawyer. Move it! We've got a Warren to crack!"

Captain Stickney soon found himself roped to a chair, facing the still breathing form of Captain Greg Sawyer. He had no doubt that he would be next, after they got back from busting that Warren.. IF they came back. What Crenishaw didn't realise is that busting a warren was a lot harder than beating the buns on the field.

A few moments later, he began struggling against his bonds, trying to escape his capture, and see if there was anything that could be done for Sawyer.

I was soaking in the hot tub, letting the worries and the cares of the day ebb off. Strange.. it never seemed like so much work to run the Warren when the previous leader was doing things. But I was a very 'Paws On' bun.. and had a nasty habit of trying to micro-manage (or so the department heads delicately tried to tell me).

Closing my eyes, I relaxed, enjoying the warm jets of water swirling around in the tub.

Then my door chime went off.

Laying my ears back, I called out, "Enter!" I wasn't too happy about being disturbed after hours, but I could hardly blame them. There was much they needed to keep me informed about.

"Warren Leader Mistie, sorry to bother you, ma'am, but we've received a Hot Pink priority transmission to your console."

I sighed. More business. "Very well. Bring my laptop." The CommBun hopped off to the other room as I got out of the tub. After shaking myself somewhat dry, I wrapped myself in a warm terrycloth bathrobe, and went to my desk in the outer office. The CommBun was standing near the door, and the laptop had been set up on my desk.

"Dismissed." The CommBun (SaluteFluffed) and left.

I powered up the laptop, and saw the following.

>*****TIGHTBEAM TO McHENRY WARREN*****
>*****BUNIX ENGAGED*****
>*****SECURITY CODE HOT PINK*****
>TO: Warren Leader Mistie
>FROM: Browny CrimsonPaw, former Cmdr, Down East Warrens
>
>(congratulationsfluff) Mistie on becoming warren leader.  I know how
>difficult the times may be ahead for you.

**
(NarrowEyes) Why was he sending me this?
**

>(sighfluff) I was recently humiliated in battle and stripped of my
>command.  I lost a paw in that battle against a fudd monkey, but he
>paid dearly for that (deviousfluff).

**
(TapsClaws) More importantly, why did he even bother to mention his defeat? *I* certainly would have done no such thing.
**

>(alasfluff) One of my problems is also yours.  The Fudds that cost
>me my position had help.  Help from traitor devilbunnies.  Buns who
>reside near your local as a matter of fact.  With the approval of
>the acting warren leader here, I have been allowed to offer a
>proposition to you.

**
(SighIrritationRuffle) Now I understood. He needed me to clean up his mess for him.
**

>We can't be going around killing our own kind ourselves.  It's bad
>PR (nodhead).  So we've sent the coordinates of the traitorbun base
>to the local Fudd outpost in your area, commanded by the monkey,
>Captain Sawyer, I believe, and his second Cprl Crenishaw.  We, of
>course, took the necessary precautions to ensure that those monkeys
>think that other monkeys sent them the information.  (sinisterfluff)
>This group of Fudds have been known in the past to attack milbuns
>and civilbuns alike.  A full dossier of what we know of this Fudd
>outpost and it's few soldiers is enclosed.

**
My claws rent the hardwood desk in surprise. (SHOCKEDSTOMP) Crenishaw.. dearest Crenishaw! You are nearby! Oh, the hours I spent planning all the ways to make you suffer as you died! And now you were within reach! Finally, I could avenge the death of my parents, and maybe lay their spirits to rest!

Dear, sweet, Crenishaw.. I will come for you.
**

>Let the Fudds attack the traitorbun warren at Volo Bog.  When the
>battle is nearly complete, send in your milbuns to rescue the
>survivors.  Of course, I'm sure you'll make sure there are no
>survivors, traitorbun or fudd monkey.  Then we can blame the
>destruction of the base on the Fudds, which in turn will give us
>good PR on the banterfront.
>
>(humblefluff) I ask little in return for this information.
>Information I give freely whether or not you give me what I ask for.
>And would I gain out of all this?  I won't get my command back,
>(sighfluff) ever.  Nobun will follow a cripple.  I simply ask that
>when you come across the traitorbun, Brightspot, you let him know
>who sent you to disembowl him.  He is the reason I have lost command.
>Kill him and there will be no debt between you and me and my revenge
>against those who have cause me and my warren harm will be complete.
>
>Frith be with you in the hunt.
>
>Browny CrimsonPaw, former commander, Down East Warrens, Maine
>
>Reviewed and approved for transmission by Cmdr Gus CrimsonPaw,
>Temp Commander, Down East Warrens
>
>(dossier enclosures)
>*****END TIGHTBEAM AND ENCRYPTION*****

But the last bit was not for this Browny Crimsonpaw to decide. I, and my military commanders would make tactics for this battle, and I will set my goals accordingly. But killing this Brightspot was a very small price to pay to reward Browny for giving me Crenishaw again.

I hopped over to the communications panel, and activated the Warren-wide channel.

"Battle alert! Repeat, Battle alert! All buns to battle standby. Military commanders and department heads report to briefing room one for strategic information, on the double. Details to follow. That is all."

I closed the channel. "Soon.." I crooned softly, "Very soon, Crenishaw.. we shall meet again."

I finished drying off and styled my fluff accordingly. I then got a hardcopy of the dossier on the outpost, and went on to brief my commanders and department heads.

Treerunner and Brightspot stared out from their entrenched positions. From what they could tell, remote patrol unit four had been completely annihilated. Whomever was coming for them, was coming for keeps. This fight was going to bear little resemblance to the skirmishes they'd had with Crenishaw before, and Treerunner knew it.

"Mentat.." Treerunner whispered

That was all it took. Word spread like wildfire around their current unit, and to the units in the vicinity that the Mentat had joined in the battle. Very faint rustles from the hedge behind them was all Brightspot needed to tell that the defenders were shifting position slightly in order to better provide cover for him.

Treerunner continued. "Mentat.. This fight is more serious than the ones before. We don't know who is coming after us, and therefore aren't sure as to how much force to use. We could loose the warren.."

Brightspot closed his eyes briefly. It was a borderline pacifist that had closed them.. it was a Mentat that opened them. "Give me a comm-link." Treerunner did so.

"Troops.. This is Mentat Brightspot. I'm not a ma.. bun for speeches, and we don't have time anyway. My orders for the battle are these: Shoot to kill. Repeat, shoot to kill. We don't have the time or resources to fight this one cleanly. Fight dirty. Do NOT shoot first, but make sure that you help the other poor sod die for their side. May the angels and ministers of grace preserve us.. That is all."

They did not have to wait long. Approximately three hundred Fudds, loosely organized into three squads, broke cover. They were firing their shotguns from the hip, and trying to perform some sort of "leapfrogging" maneuver, with a few Fudds staying put to provide cover for the advance.

The defenders then opened fire, a veritable hail of Spam™ grenades, and other small arms fire raking into the advancing Fudds. Some enterprising buns had liberated a three person slingshot and were flinging grenades and rocks as fast and as far as they could. Fudds, and pieces of Fudds were flung around the battlefield. Their advance never even wavered.

The toll on the Fudd advance was impressive.. but it wasn't enough. The defenders were severely outnumbered by two to one. The pregnant does and the kits were holed up in the nursery, and Volo Bog Warren never had been very large.

HVE balloons were lobbed at the grenadiers, with devastating effect. Many defenders were left, writhing as the HVE burned them to death. Others were lucky enough to have bunny-armor, but the armor was painfully out of date. It provided some protection from HVE, but almost none from small arms fire. The armor simply was not up to par.

The three loosely organized Fudd groups split off from each other, to presumably attack separate objectives. One headed over to the Comm towers, the other pressed their assault on the main doors all the harder, while the third.. the third group headed off to a patch of ground that was completely empty. This concerned Treerunner and Brightspot immensely, because there was no visible reason for them to be there.

But the time for contemplation had ended.. the battle was joined. Brightspot soon found himself dodging axe-blades and squirtgun shots. He was lucky.. he'd had the benefit of being trained by a Fudd in paw-to-axe tactics. His compatriots had none such to fall back on. The axe blades took a terrible toll. Horror welled up in Brightspot, as a jet of warm bunny blood spattered across his chest. He looked at the blood blankly for a moment, then felt himself knocked out of the way by one of his compatriots. That bun died, having taken the lethal blow meant for his Mentat.

Brightspot felt all compunction against killing humans dissipate, as a dandelion would in a stiff breeze. With a snarl, and a leap honed by weeks of practice with a Fudd, he attacked, leaping at a Fudd who'd over-extended on a swing. With an almost malicious glee, Brightspot sank his fangs into the Fudd's throat, and spat it into the Fudd's hands as he lay gurgling his last words.

Seeing their Mentat attack with such resolve did much to boost the flagging morale of the defenders. They attempted to emulate Brightspot's actions, and met with an astounding success. Something was wrong here.. these Fudds didn't seem to be very well trained at all..

Then the first set of explosions erupted, followed very rapidly by a second set. Communications ceased abruptly, precipitated by an agonizing squall of feedback over the link's frequencies. Glancing over to the towers, Brightspot saw the third, and the last, one fall, enveloped in a ball of flame.

With renewed frenzy, Brightspot tore into the Fudds with abandon. If he were to die this day, he'd make sure he had plenty of company.

Steekman, Smudge, and Callie were herded into the nursery as fast as the bun guards could manage. The four bun guards stood at the ready, having taken defensive positions outside the door. Orchid was busy getting the kits organized and trying to keep them calm. One of the nursery assistants brought Callie over to him. "Sorry, sir... new arrival."

"(GentlePoofle) What's your name, li.. my, you're a big kit!"

"(ScaredRuffleStomp) I.. I'm Callie. What's going on?"

"I don't know, sweetling. But you'll be saf.."

The lighting went off for a moment, as the relative quiet was split by a thunderous roar. The ground shook for a moment. The four bun guards quickly yanked their helmets-off. Even from where he stood, Orchid could here the static feedback.

"We've lost communications with the defenders," one of the guards stated.

"Without the communication equipment," Orchid breathed quietly so as to not alarm the kits, "there's little hope."

Steekman, who was standing next to Orchid piped-up, "I know a little about communication tech."

"Then come with me," Orchid led Steekman out at a rapid pace.

Callie huddled down with the other kits, all smaller then her while the nursery assistants and Smudge tried to keep them calm.

The third group had placed their charges on the ground in an odd pattern. But it worked to astounding effect.. for a ten foot section of ground fell inward as they were detonated. They'd managed to breach the Warren! And there was no way to warn those underneath..

The lights dimmed a second time as the ground shook again along with more thunder-like noise. The lights came back on just in time to show the ceiling in the hallway collapse, taking two of the four defenders with it. From the opening, twelve Fudds came through, before the tunnel they had bored into the warren collapsed, sealing them inside.

The two remaining defenders were still stunned by the concussion of the blast, and were dispatched with alacrity. The Fudds came into the nursery proper, and looked around with glee. "Ah.. the nursery! Well, little bunnies.. I'm afraid that this is the very last lesson you'll ever need.."

The Fudds advanced, and headed towards the kits, with whom Callie was with.

The nursery assistants leaped to action. They weren't milbuns, but they would still defend those under their charge. Two Fudds died before the buns were dispatched to the black rabbit. Cackling with glee, the remaining Fudds turned to the pregnant does and kits.

They hadn't seen Smudge, though. Smudge was a TechBun, but he was still a Devilbunny, and certainly possessed the vorpal claws and fangs, even if he wasn't expert in their use. He leapt at the back of one of the Fudds, managing to sever the spine. He rebounded off the dying Fudd as another swung an axe towards him. Smudge didn't stand a chance as he was caught by the flat the axe and sent flying headfirst into the far wall. He crumpled and fell to the ground, landing in a heap and did not get up.

"NNNOOOO!!!!!!" Callie cried-out as the Fudds turned to slaughtering the does and kits. The last thing she saw was the axe swinging down towards her. Everything turned red.

VoloBog Warren was noisy and active due to the battle occurring outside. Buns ran from place to place, carrying munitions, medical equipment, and sometimes other buns from one place to another. While most had a questioning look on their faces as Orchid and Steekman barreled down the halls, none stopped them or questioned their activities.

This seemed odd to Steekman. He hadn't seen another sympathizer yet, and Orchid seemed to be leading him clear across the warren. The fact that most of the warren was sized for human and bun occupation also bothered him, due to the apparent lack of humans around.

Before he could ask Orchid about it, they ran into what appeared to be a store room. "We've got tools here a'plenty. Most are bun sized, but we have some human toolkits left over from...ahh, here," he said, pointing to a disused utility belt hanging on the wall. "This should have everything you need to get something to work."

Steekman took the belt and strapped it on. Taking a quick inventory of it's contents, he said, "Ok, I can't perform any miracles here, but I'll do my best. What's the problem with the communications?"

"They took the transmitter towers down with explosives. I'm not sure what damage was done to the repeaters themselves, but the antennas are ruined."

"If the repeaters are working, I can jury rig something up. Can your transceivers be configured for very low frequency?" he asked.

Orchid nodded, and Steekman said, "Ok, then I should have you back on-line with temporary communications, local only."

"Good. Down this access hall you'll come to a stairwell with a security door," he said, pointing down a darkened passage leading from the room. "It's disguised enough that the Fudds attacking us overlooked it. The security clearance is 22-Alpha-DMF," Orchid said, not worrying about security protocols. All the codes would have to be changed afterwards, in any case.

Orchid took a breath and said, "I don't know who you are, but you were with the Mentat when you arrived. I'm assuming he trusts you. So I do as well. Please..."

"You have nothing to fear from me, sir. I'm the best symp you'll ever find," he said. He surprised himself with how readily he said this.

"I don't need a symp, I need an ally. I need communications up, and I need them up now. Do whatever it takes to get me back on-line. Do you understand?" said Orchid, an urgency in his voice.

"Completely, sir," Steekman said, and took off down the hall.

"It's Orchid, and I don't even know your name!", he yelled down the hall.

"Just call me Steekman, Orchid!" Steek called out from behind him, and continued down the dark and dusty passage.

The hall was lit by flickering incandescent bulbs that lined the ceiling, each one's glow seperated by wide pool of darkness. Pipes and wireways sprawled along the walls and ceiling, like giant worms crawling through the earth. Outside and behind him, he could hear the thunder and feel the quake of the battle occuring. In all, it felt like he was travelling down the road to Hell. But he'd been given an order, and the ominous hallway couldn't sway him from following it through.

Do whatever it takes.

The words burned in his mind like coals, searing into him a purpose, a goal. He'd never been given a real order by a bunny before, and his own reaction to it was disturbing. He'd always said he wasn't a slave, and didn't take orders from anybun, which had been true. But now...

He reached the end of the hallway, which opened up slightly to the right. Ahead of him was the door that Orchid had spoke of, set at an inward angle to the room. In the ceiling to the right, within a conglamoration of neon and pastel wires, stood the repeaters that drove the communications for the warren. All appeared to be functioning correctly, with the exception of the red flashing LED on each one, which indicated a fault had occured.

He began by resyncing a few of the repeaters to a much lower dual frequency mode, which would allow for propogation. Then he secured more than half of the total number of repeaters, and boosted the power output of the few he selected by more than four times. The repeaters wouldn't last more than a few days of continual use, but it was necessary. He then wired up each one to the cold water piping of the warren, which would be used for propogation. That was the reason for the power boost, to propogate through the entire piping system would work for communications, but would take an incredible amount of power.

There was only one last thing to do, and that was to disconnect the repeaters from the shorted and useless antenaas that were on the surface. Without doing that, the repeaters would simply short out at the power level they were at.

Steekman walked to the heavily armored security door, and looked through a dark, tinted glass window. Outside, he could see the fallen and useless trash pile that was the antennas, and three humans.

"Fudds," he said to himself.

There's nothing else for it, he thought. I've worked so hard to avoid this war, and now I've thrust myself into it. I'm going to have to fight these Fudds, not in defense this time, but for the sake of this battle. For the sake of a bunny's order.

For one brief moment, Steekman felt fear and rage. He felt that he shouldn't do this. He felt that there should be a better way. He felt the way he did in the beginning, that it wasn't the Fudds or the bunnies who were at fault, but the War itself. And he thought he couldn't do this.

But the thought was brief and fleeting, as the words the bunny had spoken thundered in his mind.

Do. Whatever. It. Takes.

He punched in the security code, slipped quietly out the door, and the devilbunny within took over.

"So.. what you're telling us, Warren Leader Mistie, is that you want us to go careening off and attack a Warren on the word of a failed MilBun?"

I sighed, and looked my Tactical advisor dead in the eyes. "Opie, evidently I have not made myself clear. We are going to attack the warren with only two goals in mind. First and foremost, we are to obtain the Fudd known as Crenishaw. Second, we are to obtain their Warren Leader, Brightspot. All other goals are secondary. As a diversion, we will attempt to have a team enter the Warren proper and cause as much damage as possible. Also, we will naturally attempt to eliminate all Fudd and Bun opposition, but not at the expense of the main goals."

My Communications Officer opened the door and tentatively stuck his head in. "My apologies, Warren Leader. But you asked to be notified when the Fudds were massing for their attack Scouts estimate that the attack will commence in around ten minutes."

I nodded my satisfaction. "Excellent. All right, everybun. You know what needs to be done, and how do do it." All the military buns assembled in the motor pool, and had a suit of light bunny armor for me. I donned the armor with some assistance, and we all piled into the beer trucks.

My heart pounded hard within my chest.. and my mouth felt as if I'd stuffed it full of cotton. I wasn't afraid of fighting.. how could I, and have had a hope to aspire to hold my current position? No.. I was emotionally overloaded with the possibility at finally avenging my parent's death, and, with luck, ending the Frith-damned nightmares once and for all.

The ride was short.. at least, it seemed that way to me, lost in my thoughts as I was. The beer truck pulled to a halt, and the CommBun's voice came over the intercom. "We're at the debark point. Scouts relay that the battle is in full rage, and that the enemy comm towers have been destroyed."

A muffled explosion shook the truck I was in slightly, and the CommBun's voice came back on. "That explosion was the enemy Warren being breached. Tactical advisor recommends immediate troop deployment according to plans."

The MilBun in charge looked at me. I nodded once, and he took over. "All right, by the numbers! Companies one and three, go for the main body of resistance! Squads seven, nine, and fourteen, head for the breach in the defenses. Squads eight, and ten through thirteen, go for the transmission towers, and don't let them re-establish communications!"

The truck opened up, and we swiftly organized and headed towards our objectives.

Outside the warren, in the forests and plains surrounding the warren, the battle raged on. The communications tower had been destroyed, hampering the bunnies severely. The Fudds who had launched this attack assumed that the communications had been completely destroyed, not considering that the actual equipment was underground. However, to be on the safe side, a group of Fudd soldiers were stationed at the towers to ensure that nobun attempted to restore them.

They weren't expecting company.

From out of the bushes and shrubbery that surrounded the communications tower came a man. With hands held high, he called out, "Don't shoot! I give up! Just don't hurt me..."

Immediately firearms were brought level with the man. Two had shotguns, one a fireaxe. One of them yelled, "On the ground, now!"

The man complied, still saying, "Just don't shoot, man. Just lemme get away. Please, I've been down there so long... just let me..."

"Shut up. Who are you, and what are you doing here?" one said, the others circling around the man at a discrete distance.

Closer. C'mon, surround me. I'm no match for you.

"I-I-I'm one of the workers for the bunnies. They sent me up here to get rid of you guys, but-"

"One symp? Who are you kidding?" one of them said, kicking the man in the side. The man grunted loudly and painfully, but stayed on the ground. "You're up here to try and repair this trash pile, aren't you?" the man asked, sneering at the trembling man.

Yes. Come on. I'm a worthless symp. Beat me up. Take it out on me. Come here...

"It's not broken! They've got the whole thing on-line right underground! I used a secret passage to get up here and warn you... they haven't lost anything..."

The one that sneered at him stepped up and placed his boot squarely in the small of the man's back. Laying the barrel of the shotgun he held at the base of the man's neck, he said, "Nice try, symp. But I'm afraid we're not gonna fall for your lies today."

Fool.

"You already have," Steekman said.

Steekman lashed out at the man with his outstretched claws. He lanced across the arm holding the weapon, causing the man to leap back in agony, and drop the weapon. At the same time, Steekman leaped at the Fudd in front of him, twisting the shotgun in the Fudd's hand and barreling him backwards to the earth.

"Darrel! Jones! Get over here now!" the wounded Fudd screamed, while the axe wielding Fudd leveled his weapon for a swing.

Steekman hadn't anticipated that. The extra Fudds would be a problem, but not if he could dispatch these one's quickly.

Steek braced the butt of the shotgun against the still struggling Fudd underneath him, and pulled the trigger. The force broke ribs on the Fudd below him, and caused the axe armed Fudd to leap back. That was all the time Steekman needed.

Kneeing the fallen Fudd, he yanked the gun from his hands and spun around to the axe armed Fudd, and shot him. The man fell to the ground just as two more men with axes ran up to the group.

With the shotgun empty, Steekman held it in front of him like a shield, facing the new attackers. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the clawed Fudd attempting to brandish the fallen Fudds axe. Steek concentrated on the two new attackers, and began blocking their swings with the shotgun.

Within two swings, he lost the shotgun, but the Fudds were out of balance from the attack, and Steekman used their imbalance against them, kicking one in the chest to knock him over, and tripping the other one.

As the two fallen Fudds struggled to their feet, and as the first fallen Fudd rose to his feet, Steekman used the .45 he had within his utility belt, and shot two bullets into each of them.

Steekman turned to finish off the wounded Fudd, and received the flat-face of the swinging axe across his body, knocking him to the ground and sending his gun flying. Grunting from the pain, but recovering quickly, Steek rolled with the fall and came back up on his feet, at an unusually low crouch for a human being.

"I don't know what you are," the only standing Fudd said to Steekman, "But you'll never survive this fight."

"It would have been more appropriate to say that to your friends," Steekman said, grinning evily.

With a yeal, the Fudd launched a downward swing at Steekman. With lightning-like reflexes, Steekman's hands snapped up and smashed against the axe handle, grasping the shaft in mid flight. For a moment, rage and fear stared off with hate and evil, the axe handle quivering inbetween them, both trying to force it away from them. The pain in Steekman's hands was unbearable, as was the burning pain in the wound of the Fudd. Finally, after moments of struggle had passed, Steekman unsheathed his claws around the axe handle, and with a yeal, split the axe handle in half.

The two shattered, splintered halves of the axe fell, and at that moment, only fear stared off with hate and evil. And then the Fudd ran.

Calmly, Steekman walked to where his gun had fallen. He picked it up, aimed carefully, and emptied the last three bullets into the back of a fleeing man.

It didn't take more than 15 minutes for Orchid and three squirrel guards from another part of the warren to tunnel through the loose dirt to the nursery. Orchid poked his head through and stared in horror at the sight in the dim light. He never could get use to death. At least half the does and kits lay dead about the room. Twelve Fudd bodies lay about the room, as well, in various poses of death. Nine of them were missing their toes, all of which were neatly stacked in a pile to one side. He could hear whimpering from the far side as the squirrels poked through behind him. He pawmotioned to them to fan-out. On the far side they found the few surviving does and kits.

"What happened?" Orchid questioned one of the does who was trying to comfort a dead kit, one of her own from a previous litter. She stared at him blankly, humming to the carcass.

"She saved us," the doe next to her stated. She too was showing signs of shock. "The new kit brought in just before the attack. She was like an avenging angel sent from Frith. It...it happened so fast... when the Fudds attacked and that other new bun went down, she went berserk...in a blur, she was...." she trailed-off.

"Were is she?" Orchid asked.

"Over here, sir," one of the squirrels called-out.

Orchid moved over to the location indicated. The big kit was soaked in blood and nuzzling another bun on the ground, the one that had been quickly introduced to him before the attack as Smudge. The kit seemed to be ignoring her surroundings and talking to the unmoving form of a buck.

"...I didn't mean to do it, Smudge...I'm becoming a bad bunny..." (sniffle) "I didn't want to hurt them...but...but they hurt you and were hurting the does and kits...why.." Tears fell openly off her muzzle as she rubbed blood onto Smudge's fur trying to wake him up.

"Callie?" Orchid called-out reassuringly while approaching her carefully. "It's alright now..."

She looked-up at him without really seeing him. (STOMP!) "Stay away! I won't let you hurt Smudge!" Her claws (SNICK!)ed out rapidly and her muscles bunched in anticipation of defending her friend.

"I won't hurt him, Callie," (reassuringfluff) "I'm a medbun." He turned to the squirrel next to him. "Get my medkit and more help." The squirrel nodded and left.

(perkupslightlyfluff) "A medbun?"

"Yes, Callie," Orchid continued in a kind tone. "I'm here to help you and Smudge. But you have to let me get closer."

Callie hesitated a moment and then backed-off letting Orchid get near Smudge.

"Are you hurt, Callie?" Orchid asked as he examined Smudge. He was breathing. "Smudge is breathing, dear. He may be unconscious for a while, but he'll get better."

Callie shook her head negatively. "I don't think so...all this," she pawed at her blood-soaked pelt, "came from the bad Fudds..." she broke-down a second time crying.

Orchid scooped the big kit into his paws and hugged her as she cried her self-out as the medteams began to arrive.

The McHenry squads assigned to the breach saw that the hole had collapsed in on itself, sealing the break. Fortunately, the Fudds that had blasted the hole in the first place had in turn been killed by the warren defenders, and their equipment packs were still nearby. After locating a few Temblor charges, the bun-in-charge blasted the entryway clear again. This way, they'd maintained their own demolition charges for use on the interior.

Ten buns made it down into the Warren before another Inle-storm of defensive fire caused the remainder of the squads to dive for cover, and the entryway to seal itself again.

They quickly set up a defensive position in the hallway. There was the strong stench of blood in the air, and the residue of the explosives used to blast our way in. In the room a short way ahead of them, the sounds of crying and whimpering could be heard.

Sgt. Clover waved her abbreviated command forward.

"Ah.. the nursery," she said, looking around in the dim emergency lighting.

One of the medical assistants came forward, and said, "Thank Frith you're here! We.." The assistant never got to finish the sentence, as the Sgt. clawed him to death with one fast swipe.

In a corner of the room, Orchid had his back to the commotion while comforting Callie. Callie saw everything and stopped crying as her expressions rapidly changed from sorrow to anger.

Snarling, she cried-out in an angry voice, "You're the bad buns! I won't let you hurt my friends!" Ripping herself away from Orchid so fast, that he spun around to see the milbuns kill another medic. With the element of surprise, a fuzz-ball possessed of a demon launched itself at the squad, while Orchid watched in disbelief.

Sergeant Clover couldn't believe her eyes as two of her troops fell in a blur.

"Spread-out!" she yelled, but things happened too quickly. She got a glimpse of their assailant as a third trooper's head flew, minus the body but not long enough to identify it. She stared for a moment in disbelief at the headless body before her training kicked-back in.

By this time some of the security squirrels regained their senses and opened fire on the milbuns, picking off three quickly. The squirrels in-turn perished, but not before the demonic fuzz-ball in their mists killed another trooper.

"REGROUP!" Clover cried-out over the noise. Things became near silent for a moment, except for the sound of the crying kits and does. Clover's two remaining buns surrounded her. She could smell the fear in her remaining troops. Behind her, she could hear somebun tunnelling through the cave-in. They stood defensively, scanning around themselves looking for their assailant.

Clover stared in disbelief at a large kit with blood-soaked fur who stood definately on the carcass of one of her troops, looking back at her.

(STOMP!) "Leave!"

Clover stared dumbfounded. Her troops were killed by a kit! Impossible.

(STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!) "Leave now, bad buns, or I'll hurt you like I did this one!" The kit stomped a hind paw on the deadbun below her again.

Orchid started to creep-up behind Callie, but was pulled-aside by one of the pregnant does, quickly. "No," she scolded him quietly, with an insane look in her eyes. "Stay back! Interfere with the Angel of Frith and you, too, will feel her wrath!" Her death-tight grip on his paw, kept him from doing anything more then watch.

The buns that had assaulted the main gate elected to fire their weapons at the crowd from a more remote location. No point in going in after them until either one side or the other had won. Since the McHenry buns really didn't care who won and who lost, they fired indescriminately, dropping targets left and right. But soon, the defending buns had won, and were starting to notice where all the fire was coming from.

The defenders dug in, and started firing back. They were outnumbered severely by this point, and the MilBun in charge of the attacking force decided that he'd order a charge in a few minutes, after the defenders were softened up some more.

Scanning the fallen with Bun-oculars, the corporal noticed one Fudd in particular with enough 'fruit salad' on his BDU's to clearly identify that particular Fudd. "Primary target aquired," he spoke into the comm unit. "Crenishaw is down, and appears to be breathing. Will attempt retrieval."

"Understood, Cpl. Bring that Fudd back alive, and you're almost guaranteed a promotion!"

With a (HopefulFangyGrin), the Cpl. set the comm pack down and shot towards the Fallen Fudd. Having been joined by an even dozen of his company-mates, he dragged the Fudd off toward the rear lines of the conflict. The defenders noted this, but had their paws full keeping the remainder of the companies occupied, and probably didn't particularly care what happened to any of the Fudds on the field anyway.

Sgt Clover couldn't believe this. A KIT had killed her troops! A Frith DAMN KIT! And this kit was now ORDERING her to leave!!!

Clover snarled and pointed at Callie. "KILL HER! Kill the kit!" Her troops leaped in attack.

The lead trooper's cry was cut short as her throat sprouted crimson. The other one had leaped at an angle in hopes of catching the kit darting to the side. He hadn't expected her to leap straight ahead. Clover saw the kit flying towards her soon enough to throw the kit's attack-off without getting scratched.

Callie rolled and came to a stop, bunched-up ready to spring again. Clover's remaining bun appeared shook-up after seeing his comrade die so quickly.

Callie spat-out bunny-flesh. "I'm no longer the little helpless kit you bad buns tortured." (STOMP!) "The one you'd punish when I refused to hurt those humans in training. But I did learn from the lessons you forced upon me." (wigglepoof) "I bet you didn't expect me to use that against you." She stared at the two remaining buns and watched their body-language as she had been taught since soon after the time of her conversion.

Clover tensed as if about to spring. But Callie, recognized the ploy intended to draw her attention from the other bun. As it lept, Callie sprang for the other bun, catching it by surprise, breaking one of it's rear paws. As it cried in pain, she darted out of the way as the other, attempting to come at her from behind now, landed on its comrade.

(STOMP!) "Inle's wrath!" Clover yelled. She looked about, but had lost sight of the kit in the gloom of the emergency lighting, her trooper groaning in pain below her. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of tunnellers getting closer. A sixth sense told her to duck. As she did so, a blur flew all too close to where her head had been. She felt the rake of claws brush against her left ear. Clover lashed-out. The blur landed, bunched-up ready to leap again.

(STOMP!) "I told you, bad buns, to go away!" The kit's eyes were full of tears as she pointed to the dead around them. "They didn't do anything to you, why do you and the bad Fudds have to hurt them?" (bigbambietearfilledeyes) "Why?" (quiverlip) "why.." She dropped down into a fetile ball and began to bawl and whimper.

Clover slowly crept into the gloom attempting to get behind Callie's position. Clover crept slowly and steadily, carefully watching the kit. When she felt the time was right, Clover tensed and lept. Callie uncurled and leaped-out of the way, but not before she ripped a gash in the Clover's tender flesh just above the right forepaw. The bun clamped her other paw on the injury trying to stench the flow of blood.

Dirt and rock flew from the cave-in as a VoloBog rescue team broke through, along with several armed squirrels. They stared at the carnage, but the squirrels, keeping their senses, trained their weapons on the two intruders. Clover was too busy tending to the deep gash in her forepaw to put-up a fight. The other bun was incapacitated by his broken paw.

(STOMP!) "You will leave, now, bad buns. Tell your friends, Callie isn't gonna runaway nomore." Callie quivered. Orchid, being released from the pregnant doe's death grip approached Callie as she continued. "I've found a home and friends. I'll defend them just as hard as I did today if you ever return." (weakSTOMP!) "And next time you won't go back to tell your fri.." her eyes rolled-upward as she collapsed in a heap.

Orchid rushed forward to Callie. Examining her, he found she had a gash on her left flank, blood flowing freely from it. "Get a stretcher over here now and get her to the infirmary!" (STOMP!)

As a rescue team did so, he turned to Sgt Clover. The squirrels kept their weapons trained on the McHenry bun. Orchid hopped towards the McHenry buns.

"I wouldn't recommend approaching them, Orchid," one of the squirrels chittered. Orchid was normally a peaceful bun. He had only been clobbered once in his Education. But he never had felt anger like that which burned in him at that moment. He ignored the squirrel as he hopped forward and stared Sgt Clover in the eyes.

Orchid paused a moment. Then speaking in a voice wrought with strain he said, "Sgt. Never before in my life have I met anybun that has made me wish that I'd never taken the Medical Oath to do no harm. You have no idea how much I want to kill you, or how long I want you to take to die, or how loudly I want to hear you scream."

The two squirrel guards looked at each other briefly. This had taken a rather disturbing turn.. this was a side of Orchid they didn't know had existed. Not that they could blame him, under the circumstances, but it would be as if Mahatma Ghandi had threatened to pick up a weapon and hack someone to bits.

Sgt. Clover looked at Orchid briefly, and sneered with disdain. "If you were a real Devilbunny.. if you really wanted to do that, then you wouldn't waste your breath talking about it! You'd simply do it."

Orchid paused a moment, and nodded. "Yes.. I do believe you are correct. And you have no idea how lucky you are that that is the case. Guards! Take this scum away. And please.. try to find something.. anything that can be construed as resisting arrest. Then kill them, in whatever manner strikes your fancy."

"Sir?" (hesitantflick)

"You heard me, Almond!" (STOMP!) The squirrel leaped back a foot. "I'll deal with the Mentat's wrath over this later. If you have any problems with that, take a look around you. The Fudds started this and these buns intended to finish it." (STOMP!) "That kit," Orchid pointed to Callie's body being tended to by medics, "saved the lives of all who were in here."

One of the medical buns had been identifying the dead Fudds, and inventorying all their equipment. Noting the lack of toes on the nine, and seeing the pile of said toes off to the side, the medical bun dutifully counted the toes and noted the discrepancy. Eighty-eight toes where there should have been ninety. Discretely, the bun hopped over to Orchid and whispered in his ear.

Taking the MedBun aside, Orchid whispered quietly, "Excellent work, MedBun First class."

"(SurprisedRuffle) First class? Sir.. I'm only a second!"

"You're a first now. (CongratulationsRuffle) Now then.. how many toes did you say there were?"

"Eighty-eight, sir. Two are missing."

"I'm sorry.. I didn't quite hear you. (MeaningfulLook) How many toes?"

"Uh... ninety?"

"Now without the questioning tone."

"Sir, there are ninety toes in the pile."

"Excellent work. Now, dispose of the toes immediately, and don't file a report as to the disposition. Keep it quiet, and do it yourself. Understood?"

"Yes sir. I'll do so immediately."

Orchid watched as the MedBun gathered up the toes and carried them away, towards the incinerator.

The medical team tending to Callie hoisted her onto a gurney and left the room with Orchid following closely behind. Her condition was deteriorating, which wasn't all that surprising considering she'd just annihilated an entire squad of Fudds and nearly an entire squad of experienced MilBuns. But Orchid didn't care. He'd do anything, up to and including lying to the Mentat to protect Callie. She'd saved many more lives than she'd taken. Truth be told, the insidious thought wound it's way through Orchid's mind that Fudds weren't worth the protein it took to make them. And maybe... just maybe.. it was a good thing that somebuns were trying to correct that situation.

On the 29th of June, in alt.devilbunnies, it was wrote
(By BunnyHugger to Steekman):

>>I hope that you summon all your moral strength and do what is right.
>>But I know you won't, and it makes me sad.

>*****************************

>   Of course he won't. He knows the truth, but he twists it in his
>mind. He twists it to serve the purpose of the race he's joined. It's
>what he was trained to do.

[...]

>   Soon, he will act, but not for what is right, but for them. What
>was started long ago will be finished by himself. And it will turn him
>forever.

*****************************

The war between humans and devilbunnies is an odd war, because no one ever notices that it's going on. You'd think that with the axe swinging and the gun fire and the SPAM grenades, someone would figure out that something was going on.

That thought, and many others, floated through Steekman's head as he disconnected the ruined antenna system from the repeaters. Once the system was no longer attached, he leaned against one of the steel support beams that used to support the antennas, holding his gun, and looked up at the sky.

"Why don't I feel remorse for what I have done?" he said to no one, in an oddly conversational tone.

"Why is it," he continued, "That for the longest time, I felt that trying to stop this war was the ultimate goal, yet here I am, fighting in this war for the bunny cause?

"And everything seems so simple and clear now. I do what the bunnies tell me, whatever it takes. No matter who I must kill, or what I must do.

"Are these devilbunny thoughts within me, or have I always been like this? Has the disease done something to me, to make me more like a devilbunny, even more than I ever imagined? Or is it that I was always destined to be this way as a human?

"I never wanted to be a part of this war, but now it's all I want. To find a bunny and serve. To take my place with the devilbunny kind. To make their goals my own. To be the best sympathizer ever.

"And this I will be. The best sympathizer ever, until I die, or until I become a bunny."

Steekman stared up at the sun, the fabled embodiment of the rabbit god, Frith. His eyes dialated to tiny pinpoints and teared up from the brightness. But in spite of it he stared, and said, "But when will I be worthy? Indeed, it seems I have the heart of a devilbunny. When will I feel worthy of the body of a bunny as well?"

No one said a word, but Steekman felt satisfied with the answer. Walking back towards the opening to the warren, he stopped suddenly and knelt down to where a tiny wildflower stood unscathed by the explosions and the fighting. He placed the gun he held in his hand on the ground, and picked the flower. Leaving the weapon behind, he walked away with the flower and a euphoric smile on his face.

One might almost have called it a... fangy-grin.

- If there was ever any doubt, if there was ever any question, let it fall to rest.

- Abandon all hope. Steekman has turned.

As Warren Leader, I had seen the wisdom of allowing the military full command of the battle. Yet, I had retained the ability to override as I saw fit. So as the sniper teams on either side of the communications tower prepared to pick off the unsuspecting Fudds, I paid no mind. And yet, when I saw a single human coming out of a hidden passage near the group of Fudds, I decided to exercise that ability. "Sniper teams, do not fire on targets. Take up defensive positions and draw a bead on all the humans."

The teams acknowledged, and I waited. And I watched as the human who emerged from the passage single-handedly eliminated every Fudd.

The human was obviously a symp, and yet I was rather curious as to how a symp could do such a thing. My own experiences with symps were normally conducted at the dinner table over a light wine, but this seemed to contradict the culinary side of symps.

"Sniper teams, continue to hold your fire. I am approaching the human at the communication tower. If hostile actions are evident, shoot on sight. All teams acknowledge."

"Sniper One, acknowledge."

"Sniper Two, acknowledge."

I then hopped forward to talk with the would-be symp, who appeared to be... talking to himself?

Steekman approached the site of the hidden passageway. With the topside antennas disconnected, the repeaters below ground would begin functioning immediately. All that was left to do was report back to Orchid and acknowledge the completion of his orders. As he was approaching the entrance, a doe hopped up in partial armor and stood about 10 yards from him, staring at him.

Well, Steekman thought, she looks official. More than official, she's got that Mentat tone around her. And she looks like she's waiting for me to say something. Won't hurt to relay my completion to her as well.

"Ma'am, " Steekman said, in his most respectful tone. "The communications system is back on-line. I had a minor skirmish with the Fudd guards, but that's been taken care of."

"I saw. "

"Yes... well... " Steekman said, something about the situation striking him as wrong. "I'll just be reporting back to Orchid, he did give me the order-"

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea, . What did you say your name was?"

"Ahh... Steekman, Ma'am."

The doe's face seemed to light with recollection, and she says, "Oh! The symp from the newsgroup. My my my, what sort of hot-water have you fallen into now, hmmm? "

"Err... with all due respect, Ma'am, I don't entirely follow."

"Thankfully not, Mr. Steekman, or you would be dead with several holes in your body by now. Tell me, who's side are you on?"

"I'm on the bunnies side, Ma'am," he said without thought.

"Ahh, but that's where you are confused, " she said. "You see, I'm afraid you've stumbled upon a unique situation here, an unfortunate one. You've been fighting for bunnies who support the Fudd side. "

Steekman stared at her incredulously. "W-w-wh... But how come these Fudds are attacking the warren?" he stuttered.

"Because Fudds are stupid, dear boy. "

It took only a moment for it to sink in, but once it did, Steekman cringed. "Good Frith! Oh man oh man oh man, " he ranted for a moment. "Ma'am, I've seriously screwed up! Their communications lines are back on-line because of me!"

"Can you jam them?"

"Partially, but not fully."

"Good, do what you can."

"But that's not all. I was with two other bunnies when I was taken in. They're not aware of this anymore than I was. I can't just leave them in there to-"

"Not a problem, Steekman. All loyal bunnies found will be recovered, as a matter of course. In the meantime, go over to that stand of trees to your right about 50 yards away. I'll have one of my buns take you back to the ground movers, and you'll get back to my warren inside of them."

Steekman looked at the trees for a moment, confused. He then said, "Your warren? I don't understand, what's going to happen to me?"

"Steekman, you're a symp. You serve bunnies, right?"

Steekman nodded.

"Good. Then head for my warren, and start serving. "

As quickly as they came, the McHenry buns withdrew. Tired, battered, and bleeding from many wounds, Brightspot and the other defenders did not pursue. In truth, they couldn't have even if they'd wanted to.

Fully half of Brightspot's MilBuns were dead, and half of the remainder were critically wounded. Out of one hundred MilBuns, he only had twenty five battle-ready buns, and three walking wounded who could fight if absolutely necessary.

In his eyes, the Warren was as good as dead. There was no way he could defend his home against even the lightest of assaults now. Due to what he perceived as his ineptitude as a leader, his Warren had, for all intents and purposes, been destroyed.

Brightspot hung his head low, and made it a point to go and retrieve one of the three "Dog Tags" his MilBuns wore for ID purposes. He'd forever remember their names.

He eventually wound his way to the remnants of the communications tower. That was where Perl and Treerunner found him.

Perl looked at Brightspot, who hadn't even noticed them yet. He was a sight... his leather jacket was torn by axeblades in many locations, to the point that it was barely able to stay on his shoulders. His fluff... it had been cobalt blue, but was now a deep rusty blue due to the dried blood caked in his pelt. Perl set a paw on Brightspot's shoulder to get his attention. The fur beneath her paw crackled, and sent dried flakes of blood floating down to the ground.

Brightspot looked up, his muzzle a visage of profound sorrow.

Perl couldn't now think of a single thing to say. Nothing she could think of could put a dent in the despair wracking him now. She hopped closer, and did the only thing she could think of.. tried to wrap her front paws around Brightspot and (BunniHug) him.

Brightspot stepped back, away from the proferred embrace. "I'm sorry, Perl. But.. not right now. I don't deserve a hug after this debacle."

Perl was about to reply when a rustling from the woods brought the three VBW denizens back to reality. A lone Fudd, wearing the rank insignia of Captain, broke cover and carefully walked towards the three friends. He stopped, just out of what Brightspot thought was his maximum leap.

Brightspot looked at the captain, and in a calm, controlled voice said, "Captain. You have a lot of balls showing up here after what your kind has done. Any particular reason I shouldn't serve them to you on a silver platter?"

"They went rogue, Mentat. They shot their commander in the head, and attacked without authorization."

Brightspot sighed softly, and said, "That's pretty... convenient.. having Fudds go rogue like that, Captain..."

"Stickney, Mentat. Captain George Stickney, on assingment by NoCO to investigate Crenishaw."

Brightspot nodded."George, then. Is there any particular reason I shouldn't believe that the Fudds were declared rogue simply because they failed?"

George removed the zipdisk that Captain Sawyer had given him, ropeburns clearly visible on his wrists. "Mentat.."

Brightspot interrupted. "George. Call me Brightspot. We're about to decide wether or not we are allies or enemies. I think we can safely set aside our titles for a while in the face of that, don't you?"

George nodded. "Agreed, Brightspot. On this zip disk are the logs of the former commander of the Lakemoor Fudds. They clearly detail the events that led up to this incident. I have not had time to review it, yet."

Brightspot sat back on his haunches and (AweFluffed). "Incident. This was an incident to you, George? It was a declaration of WAR to us. You truly don't know what it is that has happened here, do you?"

"Please, Brightspot.. look at the disk. Read it. Please, before you make up your mind."

"Our computers are, or were if they aren't working any longer, vintage 1960's equipment. We can't access that disk. Irrelevant, anyway. Logs can be forged, and quite easily too. But I make you a deal, Captain. I'll look at that disk, and consider it carefully, if you take a little tour with me of what's left of my warren. Your Fudds did quite the job of destroying it. We still don't know if any of it can be salvaged."

"I'd appreciate the tour, Brightspot. I need to see what has happened in order to prosecute any survivors."

"Prosecute. There's another fine sounding word, George. Like you prosecuted Crenishaw for ordering the kit killing?"

"We were investigating that, Brightspot..."

Brightspot interrupted. "Then you did not do so fast enough. But come, enough talk for now. Come with me, and I will show you why NoCO should have moved far, far faster in their investigation."

Captain Stickney was horrified at the devastation wrought by the attack. Broken bodies of both Fudds and buns littered the battlefield outside the warren. Inside the warren was far, far worse. The Temblor charges had weakened several support beams causing massive cave-ins in several locations. At each of them, bunnies were excavating as fast as they could, but all too often in vain, as crushed bodies of bunnies were withdrawn.

One of the most heartrending was a doe that had shielded her kits with her own body. Four of the kits were dead, with the fifth obviously not going to live long. The little buck extended one paw (badly broken) and the stump of his other front leg, and begged to be picked up. Brightspot obliged, and snuggled and hugged the poor kit for all the time he had remaining on Earth. Two minutes.

Then they got to the nursery. George hadn't been in a bunny warren before, but this had obviously been the nursery.. there could be no mistaking the cute, fuzzy plush animals and the nursery-rhyme theme of the wallpaper.

Captain Stickney blanched, and leaned on a cabinet against what he saw. The Fudds had deliberately targeted the nursery for annihlation. The fight in here had been horrendous... Fudd bodies were scattered with reckless abandon, and the bunnies.. George had to struggle to keep his last meal down. Obviously pregnant does lay dead, in various states of dismemberment. And this kits....

There was a commotion in one part of the room. Brightspot (EarWave)d George over.

Brightspot looked at the MedBun and asked, "What's going on?"

"Its the doe, sir... her kit was killed by the Fudds, but she won't let us near the body to lay it to rest. She keeps on trying to get it to stand up and hop.. and when we come close, she snarls and.."

"I get the picture, MedBun. I'll try to help."

Captain Stickney watched on as Brightspot spoke with the doe to no avail. Having seen that talk was no use, Brightspot simply reached over and took the broken body of the kit from her, ignoring it when the doe sank her fangs into his shoulder. The MedBuns came over and pried the doe off his shoulder, and took the body of the kit from him. The entire room was silent with sympathy, as the doe was led away, keening pitiously to have her kit given back to her.

Without further word, Brightspot led Captain Stickney out of the warren and back to the transmission towers.

"Now then, George. You have seen what has been done this day. Was this a mere incident? What would you have us do?" Brightspot asked.

Captain Stickney sighed, and said, "This was no incident. It was a brutal act of war. I truly wouldn't blame you if you were to side against the Fudds after this."

Brightspot nodded slowly. "An honest answer, and not the party line. Very well, George. We will maintain our neutral status for now. But you must understand just how delicate things are right now. The slightest perturbation, and all bets are off."

A glint out of the corner of his eye brought Captain Stickney's attention to an object buried in the grass. Reaching down, he found a Colt 1911A1 .45 caliber sidearm, bolt open due to the last shell in the magazine having been fired. Looking closely at the firearm, he could see the fancy, engraved initials RS on the side of the grips. He knew this firearm. He knew the owner of this firearm.

Oh El'Mah, Stickney thought to himself. Bob wouldn't be here, last I heard he had resigned and moved to Colorado. But this can't be anything but his weapon. Which means it could only belong to...

"Brightspot. Where is the owner of this weapon? Should be a Robert Stickney?"

"Stickney? No.. I don't know of a Stickney. A Steekman came here before the attack, but no Stickney."

Steekman. Anyone else would have thought the name a simple pun, but the Captain knew who Steekman was. There was only one person it could be.

It appeared that his brother's wayward son had finally turned up, and this time on the wrong side of the line.

"Brightspot, if you wouldn't mind, we'd like to make arrangements to have the bodies removed."

"All right. We'll move the corpses over to the access road about a mile that way. Forgive me if we don't want more Fudds wandering around right now."

"I understand. Brightspot, I respect you deeply. It isn't just anyone who could still strive for peace after a brutal attack like this. With your leave, I will get going and be in contact with you shortly. I have an extensive report to file with NoCO."

Brightspot nodded. "I understand. Now if you'll exuse me, there is a great deal of grieving and work to be done."

Brightspot and escort hopped off to begin cleaning up after the mess, leaving Captain Stickney to walk off site. The squirrel guards in the trees paced him until he left the vicinity.

"Mentat, what are you *doing*?!?"

Brightspot sighed, and set the chunk of debris on the dolly to be dragged away. "Orchid, there's work to be done. I don't have the time for this."

"(PawTap) Mentat. And just how long have you been doing this?"

"Three hours." Brightspot refrained from mentioning that two days ago he'd taken the habit of switching work crews every few hours to cover just how long he'd been up. He didn't even want to consider sleep right now.

Then Perl came around the corner. "And six hours on the other crew. And four on the one before that. Shall I continue?"

"No," Brightspot replied as he helped two other buns drag another collapsed support pylon off the pile.

"Mentat..."

"Drop it, Orchid. There's work to be done."

A crackle came from the failing wreckage of the communications system. "Single Fudd entering the perimeter, outer scouts report known Fudd ID: Captain Stickney."

Brightspot activated his comm-link. "Alert Two. Armed escort bring him in."

Brightspot hopped past Perl and Orchid without comment.

Captain Stickney was led into his office, carrying a hard-shell computer case.

"Have a seat, George. What can I do for you?" Brightspot asked, in the calm, deadpan voice he'd cultivated since the last interview with Capt. Stickney.

"I'd like you to take a look at this zipdisk with me, and I'd like to update you as to the results of our investigation."

"(SlowNoddle) Very well." He set up his laptop, and attached the proffered zipdrive. There was a little problem getting an uncute Fudd device working with the laptop, but with a few threats to the computer having much to do with an imminent conversion into a toaster, he was able to get it working.

The zipdisk contained a log of one Captain Greg Sawyer, and dealt with the complete failure of the Fudd chain of command in the local Fudd base. It also looked quite manufactured.

Brightspot turned off the laptop, and looked at Captain Stickney. "You expect me to believe this?"

George shook his head. "Not really. But this trace might be of interest." He handed a stack of hardcopy papers across the small bunny sized desk.

Brightspot leafed through the file quickly, but stopped dead half way through:

>Brawn Crimson, The Wanderers
>[GIF Map showing coordinates of Volo Bog on it]

*That looks too familiar,* Brightspot thought to himself. His eyes narrowed considerably when he saw the message had been traced to Bangor, Maine. *Browny CrimsonPaw!* he thought to himself with much anger, his claws unsheathing involuntarily for a moment, piercing the edges of the paper. Brightspot started over, and looked very, very closely at every piece of information.

Once done, Brightspot looked over at Capt. Stickney and said, "May I keep this." as he put the report away. "I will review this information, and verify it. I will also, should this prove out, probably request permission to enter Maine at some later date and blow this son of a bitch off the face of the planet. I do not intend to forget either where he is, or what he did."

Deciding that discretion was for the best right now, George elected to file the comment away for later review, though he had a slight pang of anxiety over this.

Orchid popped his head into the office. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need you in the infirmary, Mentat."

Brightspot looked up from his desk. "Haven't we discussed this already, Orchid?"

"I'm sorry, Mentat. But we've a medical emergency in the infirmary. You're the only non-injured bun of type Pink Negative blood we have left."

Brightspot hopped up from his chair and headed over to the door. His back to Orchid, Brightspot looked at Captain Stickney. "George, if you'll follow me? We can still talk as the good doctor works his magic."

He never felt the light jab of the needle, nor the cold sting of the anaesthetic as it coursed through his system. Brightspot merely collapsed in a heap on the floor, and began snoring softly.

This, however, was rather disconcerting to Captain Stickney.

Orchid sighed, shook his head sadly, and looked over at Captain Stickney. "My apologies, Captain. The Mentat has been up for three days with no sleep, working on the crews to clear away the damage. This is the only way we've been able to get him to take any rest. My apologies for causing the worry, Captain. I'd ask you to stay, but I think it best that you head back for now."

Captain Stickney nodded. "I understand."

Orchid (Fluffed) in concern when he looked at Brightspot, then had the squirrel guards escort Captain Stickney out of the warren. Once those arrangements had been made, Orchid had a stretcher brought up and carried Brightspot to the infirmary, where he put him next to the survivors of the battle.

Finis (for now)