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Digital War:

Campaign I

I made it with time to spare. Briefing was at nine o' clock and the time was thirty seconds 'til the hour. Thank you Rift Program.

For those who don't know, Rift Program is a quick transportation program, almost teleportation. A Digimon will download the program (or any program for that matter), and will be able to access it at any time. In particular, Rift Program opens a small wormhole thingamabob that you walk into and then out again to get where you want to be.

I took my place, standing in the back of the room… Sometimes having a large body can be a disadvantage. The room was quite small in comparison with those who were presently using its resources; therefore, it was packed tighter than wax.

As a field sergeant, my duty was to take notes and inform those under me of the situation. That was the whole reason for this briefing.

A standard WarGreymon entered the tent. Those sitting down rose to their feet and snapped to attention; I did the same, realizing that this was not a standard WarGreymon. This was an Admiral. He was the Admiral that was overseeing the entire operation in Ea.

"Good morning," he greeted. Everyone who could sit back down did. I gave myself up to a more relaxing posture than Attention.

"Operation Lighting Fist has gone better than expected," the Admiral said with a touch of relief. "Our invasion of the City itself was successful and utterly pointless. Ea has been abandoned. We estimate that the Enemy retreated about a month ago."

Something was wrong in the Admiral's voice. He sounded relieved at not having to fight as hard here, but still anxious.

"However," he started again, "We believe that he has fortified Yggdrassil heavily." I was right. That was bad news. "At least half his army has been transferred and the Sovereigns are planning some sort of advance on the plane."

Half! Half his armies had been placed in Yggdrassil! No wonder the Admiral was so worried. Near thirty-five billion highly trained, soulless troops were draining every natural resource there.


"Admiral," I said, uneasily.

He glared at me for a small while. Then he spoke: "Yes."

"How many planes does the Enemy control?"

"He controls Yggdrassil, Anshar, and Valhalla," He replied. "Who are you and what is your rank?"

"Just a Greymon in the Medical Corps. I'm a sergeant."

"Well, sergeant," he spoke to me evenly. "Why?"

"I just had a thought," I stated just as calmly, "that in three planes, there isn't enough food for two thirds of that amount. I was wondering where they got their supplies from."

He didn't say anything. For a moment, I thought I had said something I shouldn't have. Ah, who cares anyway? He could use a little humility.

"I don't know."

That's it! Cut the supplies and they fall like a ton of bricks.

The Admiral looked as if he just stumbled across a tomb from the Clan Wars. He blinked, he sighed, and then he blinked again. "Sergeant," he said at last, "You just brought up an interesting point. I'll take that to the Sovereigns."

I smiled, to myself. Who would have thought that I could think up something like that? "Thank you, Admiral."

He nodded briefly. "Anyway, expect transfer notices within the next three months." The WarGreymon then left the tent.

We were excused about half an hour later after the admiral left. My first concern after the briefing was to try to find that Digimon again. I had left him alone in the medical tent, but who knows those biologists did with him.

I picked my way through the tent city, on the off chance that he would still be there. By the time I had got to where I was going, it was noon. I walked into the makeshift clinic.

There he was, just as I left him. Except now, he had something at least to occupy his time, food. "It's me again," I said. "You should really be put into a bio-tank. You know, ease the pain and kill the infection…"

He glared at me.

"I'll go speak to them about that." I left the room and went to the cloth building next door.

I was spotted immediately upon entering the room. There was a meeting going on between the doctors that were watching him and the scientists who were trying to figure a way to reverse his condition. As soon as I stepped in, it stopped.

"Oh," one of them, a WereGarurumon stood up. "I suppose you'd like to make another suggestion concerning our patient," he said contemptuously.

I nodded simply. I could have said half a million things in reply. For practical reasons, however, I held my tongue.

"And what would that be?"

"I thought," I replied, equally condescendingly. "You might move him to a bio-medical tank." I smirked at the scowl I was getting. "Who knows, you might need that bed for other reasons."

"Is that the only reason?"

"The bio-tanks are more sanitary, therefore reducing his chances of infection and killing off the infections already in place. It also serves well as a painkiller."

"Very well," he said shortly. "Move him."

With that said, I left again for the tent that held my patient.

"Hello again," I waved, trying to keep up a cheery demeanor. "Where's the nurse?"

"Just through that door," he scratched out. "What'd they say about a bio-tank?"

"That's why I'm trying to find the nurse." So through the door I went. The nurse was there.

"Excuse me," she said, "Medical personnel only."

"Field Sergeant Grey," I replied. Most people called me Grey, not Greymon. "Medical Corp. Eighth battalion. I'm the one who found…"

"Artimus," she cut me off. "His name's Artimus." She turned back to folding towels. "What's is this about?"

"Direct, aren't you?" She continued concentrating on her task at hand. "Where is the nearest bio-tank station?"

"Two kilometers east of here." Now she turned to face me directly. "Why?"

"I'll need your help to move him."

"Alright," she agreed. "Help me with these towels and then we'll move him. By the way, my name is Sam." A fair deal, not something that one runs into most days. Personally, I think she did it just to embarrass me. Claws are not good for that sort of thing and B. M. Program is only for surgery.

Body Modification Program (here on referred to as B. M. Program): yet another of those useful tools that Digimon are, oh, so lucky to have. All it does is simply make beast-types more humanoid. For me, that would mean a more human stance and no claws. Coupled with Data Press (shrinking program) it makes one able to do most anything, including folding towels…

Unfortunately, I wasn't allowed to us B. M. Program for small things like this. Which means that at least three or four of those towels now had holes in them. And she laughed at me.

I laughed too, albeit it was a little sarcastic, but I laughed nonetheless. Within the hour we had her mountainous pile of cloth all neatly folded.

"Now," I said triumphantly, "we can move Artimus."

We moved back into Artimus' little room. The Digimon received us both indifferently, as usual.

"Ok," I said as calmly as I could. The poor guy was about to go through some very immense pain. As I said before, I don't like seeing anyone in pain. "We're going to have to walk you to the bio-tank station. If you prefer, we can…"

"I'll walk." He took a bloodstained claw and removed the reddened sheets. Those would have to be burned now. Artimus winced as he stepped onto his broken leg. I don't see how anyone could possibly go through that much torture and not make a sound.

He moved steadily out, Sam and I weren't far behind. Not once did he ask for help or look any other direction then forward, not even when those who saw him for the first time gasped and swore.

So he walked with us in tow. It was slow going. One hour passed, then two, than three, all at the rate of only a few feet per minute. It hurt me to see him so bloody and deformed… almost as much as it pained him. At last we made it. The technicians at the bio-tank station were utterly horrified.

"We have a patient here in need of a tank."

The technician stood up from his computer terminal. "Dear god! What happened to him!"

"I'll give you ten guesses," I stated. "And the first nine don't count." He nodded a tiny, almost miniscule nod. "We're in need of a bio-tank." The technician just stared at me, then Artimus, then me, and then back at Artimus. (Did I mention that he stared at Sam a few times too)? "Now!"

He scrambled over to Artimus. "Um," he stared at the deformation. "We'll have to sterilize you before you go in the tank."

"Just get it over with."

I spotted a clock on the computer terminal. Three o'clock. Dang, I need to get back to that Agumon.

"Sam," I whispered. "Do me a favor and keep an eye on 'em for me." She agreed silently. "I've got to get back to another patient."

Again, I left the misformed Digimon. Only this time it was in the hands of someone who, though, I knew nothing about, I could trust not to make any sort of mistakes. With that in mind, I headed back to the main complex. Four thirty by the time I arrived at the proper dormitory.

It had been almost a day since I'd last seen the room. The change was a dramatic one. The scattered Digimon were now resting in relative comfort in neatly ordered beds, the floor was clean, and lastly, the lighting was different; someone had made a window or two in gigantic chamber.

It didn't take me long to find my target. He was fortunate to have a bed next to one of the large dentenite panes.

Dentenite: A Definition. n. —A crystal found in all forms i.e. solid, gas and liquid within the Digital World. Gaia, the mountain plain, is home to some of the largest mining operations with dentenite being the most abundant resource available solid forms are found underground. Muspelshiem is the only place in the Digital World where the gaseous form of the crystal is found. Dentenite vapors The liquid form is found as fog and in small pools near the borders of all plains, with the exception of Muspelshiem. This fog can be used to transmit signals to the Real World quite efficiently and cost effectively.

He was relaxing (something I found strange considering the circumstances) and admiring the view from his bed. He was smiling, probably because he was no longer quite so hideous and had a brand new set of legs.

His grin widened when he saw me. "Well," I stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "You seem to be doing well. Better than your friend."

"You found him!"

"He's being fit for a bio-tank as we speak," I informed. "Millenniumon didn't put him back together the way he should have. He's had, for lack of a better term, a rough day."

"But he's alive?"

"Yes." I yawned. I'd been a long day for me. "And I found out his name, too." The Digimon obviously didn't expect that.

"How'd you get that out of him?"

"I didn't," I replied. "The nurse did. How, I don't know. But she did." I directed my gaze toward the momentous window. "Nice view ya got here."

"How'd the nurse get it out of him?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." I took a step closer to the window and peered down. "Now I know why we came in from the West." The Northern half of the island was characterized by one cliff about one hundred meters above razor-like rocks in the sea. "Millenniumon knows his tactics. Very defendable position."

"He chose it for the view."

I turned back to the Agumon. "How would you know that?" Ludicrous thought, I told myself. No chance he could ever be right about that.

"I was one of his servants," he returned. "Take a look at his chambers if you ever get a chance. All windows on the North face." He sighed mildly. "He was right on that one point; he may have been evil, but he's still a hopeless romantic."

"That doesn't sound very likely," I muttered to myself. The Agumon heard me. He may just be insane, I decided.

"Millenniumon often called me into his chambers just to talk." Now I was curious about that. The deformation continued, seemingly not noticing the glares he was receiving from passers by. "He asked a lot of questions about what he was doing was wrong or not.

"Naturally I was scared to death of him."

Who wouldn't be, I thought. "What'd you tell him?"

"What I thought he wanted to hear. What else could I say? Every now and then his collar would go off."

Now I was wondering if Millenniumon was evil or not. I didn't even know he had a collar. I thought that was only slaves.

Again the Agumon continued his story. I was content for now just to listen. Somehow, I found myself wanting to believe that there was some good after all in the heart of the beast.

"He thought that maybe he'd made a mistake when he joined the Enemy. He asked me once to tell exactly what I thought of him. I told him the truth that time. If I ever thought that he was heartless, his response changed my mind so irrevocably that I still have nothing bad to say about him."

"What did he do?" someone asked, gruffly.

"He left. Just left without a word. He hasn't been back since."

I turned back to the window. As I turned, I caught a glimpse of who had asked the question. I stopped.

"A—Admiral!" I snapped to attention as quickly as my body would allow. "Sir, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," the armored dragon answered. "As promised, I contacted Azulongmon about your suggestion." The Admiral paused. "He took it to the other Sovereigns."

I was in awe to say the least. The Admiral smiled and took a small box from his belt pouch.

"They recommended that I transfer you to the front as soon as possible. Sergeant, I'm pleased to inform you of your in field commission and promotion to the rank of Captain."

"Sir," I started respectfully, "I'm honored."

"I'm glad. Expect a transfer notice in one month to Yggdrassil."

I've decided that the actual war won't cover more than just a few chapters total. This entire book spans a timeline of five hundred years (plus or minus ten years). All together, the series spans nearly a millenium if not more. As always, read and review, enjoy and review, and finally, review and review.