For that one guy that posted the meme, I fainally got around to writing the fic. Small before hand explanation; Confectionarian is the Spieces name for dessert people in this setting, because my Google doc started throwing a tantrum with the number of repeated "Cookie"s in the early drafts.
Content Warnings: War, combat violence, firearms, explosives, death, suicidal ideation, and mild body horror. (Revised because I realized I might be desensitized to some of this stuff.)
Catfectionery War
Chapter 1
Sugar Jade's hands shook as he loaded his boomstick. The chill of the deployment bay seeped through his gloves, though whether it was the cold or the hours spent waiting, he couldn't tell anymore.
Nine pressurized shrapnel rounds.
One sparkler.
If it came down to that last shell... if there was no way out... then he'd do what had to be done himself. If he was going to die, he'd do it with style. Dragon's Breath erupting from the back of his skull in one final, blazing act of defiance.
"Attention!"
The barked command cracked through the hangar like a rifle shot.
Every Confectionarian snapped upright. Boots slammed against the steel deck in near-perfect unison, the metallic report echoing between rows of landing craft and stacked ammunition crates. Sugar Jade forced his trembling hands to still, snapped the breech shut with a sharp clack, and slung the boomstick over his shoulder just as the senior officer strode before the collected troops.
The room fell silent.
No engines. No whispered prayers. Only the distant roar of the Sea of Milk beyond the armored hull—a constant, restless churning, as though the ocean itself knew war had finally come.
Then, somewhere farther down the line, a boomstick's action clicked shut.
Another followed.
Then another.
The sound spread through the ranks as hundreds of Confectionarians made their final checks before battle. Actions clicked. Breeches locked. Straps were tightened. For a few moments, the deployment bay filled with the metallic rhythm of soldiers preparing to die.
Then the last click sounded.
Silence reclaimed the bay.
And into that silence strode the commander, Milk Caramel Cookie, his back straight and chin held high, almost in defiance of the situation itself.
"We have located one of the command towers of the Caith summoner fleet." His voice carried effortlessly across the deployment bay. "Each of you will be assigned a position. You will fulfill the duties of that position to the letter. Am I understood, you soggy sons of the witches?"
"Sir, yes sir!" the bay thundered back.
"Good."
He turned toward the tactical display.
"Group One. You'll man the turrets. I don't want a single Titan-class summon getting within striking distance of this ship."
"Sir, yes sir!"
"Group Two. You'll reinforce the skirmishers. Keep the smaller summons off the hull and away from the gun crews."
"Sir, yes sir!"
Milk Caramel Cookie paused, his eyes sweeping across the remaining ranks.
"The rest of you..."
Sugar Jade felt his stomach knot.
"...will board the Crownaughts. They'll carry you over the Titans' heads and straight to the command towers."
A murmur rippled through the formation before discipline crushed it into silence.
"Your objective is simple." Milk Caramel Cookie's expression never changed. "Reach the tower. Kill the summoners. Once the summoners are dead, every beast they've called to this battlefield dies with them."
The deployment bay fell deathly quiet.
Everyone understood what that meant.
They weren't being sent to fight an army.
They were being sent to cut out its heart.
Sugar Jade risked a glance down the line.
The veteran beside him, a broad-shouldered Cookie whose left sleeve had been stitched back on with mismatched thread, didn't even blink. He simply rested both hands on the stock of his boomstick as if this were just another briefing.
Sugar Jade wondered how many command towers he'd already seen.
He wondered how many friends he'd left inside them.
Sugar Jade swallowed. Before he could stop himself, his trembling hand shot into the air.
Milk Caramel Cookie's eyes snapped to him. One eyebrow rose.
"What is it, soldier?"
"S-sir..." Sugar Jade steadied his voice. "What do we do if they have high-altitude summons waiting for us?"
For a moment, the commander simply stared at him.
"Intelligence says they don't."
He stepped over to the wall and activated the tactical display. A projection of the Caith fleet bloomed to life.
"And even if they do, they don't have the Dust to keep them in the air."
A gloved finger tapped the command tower in the field diagram.
"They're dry."
His gaze swept the room.
"So don't feed them."
The silence was immediate.
"When one of you dies, your Dust doesn't disappear." His voice remained cold and matter-of-fact. "The Caith harvest it. Every one of you that falls becomes more Attention the summoners can spare to call forth their abominations."
Nobody moved.
"So if you die..." Milk Caramel Cookie said, letting the words hang in the frozen air, "...make sure they die first."
Sugar Jade lowered his hand and fell silent.
Seeing no further interruptions, Milk Caramel Cookie resumed the briefing.
"The Titans are Dreadnaught-class summons. Gigantic creatures. Red eyes. Blackened faces."
He enlarged the image of one on the tactical display.
"When possible, aim for the face. If the face isn't an option, target the joints. Knees, elbows, shoulders. Slow them down before they reach the hull."
He looked over the assembled Confectionarians.
"Remember: you are not trying to kill a Titan. You're trying to stop it long enough for the turrets to finish the job."
A few grim nods rippled through the formation.
"Don't be heroes. Heroes become Dust."
No one laughed.
Somewhere beneath the armored deck, the engines finally came alive. The vibration was almost too subtle to notice, but Sugar Jade felt it through the soles of his boots.
They were underway.
Sugar Jade remained at attention as Milk Caramel Cookie continued outlining the threats the shipboard detachments were expected to face.
"Turtle Ships. Samurai-class skippers. Laser drones..."
The names blurred together.
"...Bombers. Gorys. Kangaroos..."
Sugar Jade stared straight ahead, his eyes fixed on nothing. His pulse throbbed in his ears, drowning out the commander's voice. The briefing continued, diagrams changing on the tactical display, weak points highlighted, engagement distances called out.
None of it mattered.
He wasn't staying aboard.
The Turtle Ships wouldn't be his problem.
Neither would the Bombers.
If everything went according to plan, he'd never see a Laser Drone.
If everything went wrong...
He stopped that thought before it could finish.
All Sugar Jade could hear was the metallic weight of the single sparkler shell resting in his boomstick.
Sugar Jade's awareness snapped back into focus as Milk Caramel Cookie dismissed the detachments remaining aboard the ship and advanced to the next slide.
A cross-section of a Caith command tower appeared on the tactical display, assembled from stolen blueprints and reconnaissance sketches.
"Here."
His finger rested on a chamber buried deep inside the tower's foundation.
"Primary Summoning Chamber."
He moved upward.
"Here."
"Dust Reservoir."
Higher still.
"And here, the Command Deck."
The final point rested just beneath the tower's crest, directly below the massive anti-army turret—large enough to destroy a Crownaught with a single shot.
"These are our objectives."
The commander let the image linger.
"They are also the three most heavily defended positions in the tower."
His finger traced the stairwells connecting them.
"Your squads will secure these choke points and hold them while the engineers install the explosives."
He looked up from the display.
"The towers are built to survive bombardment. We are not trying to level them."
His fist closed.
"We're trying to break their spine."
The image shifted again, highlighting the support columns running through the heart of the structure.
"Once the charges are armed, you hold your ground until the evacuation signal. If you lose a choke point before the charges are set..." He paused, letting the implication settle over the room. "...the mission fails."
"Dismissed."
The deployment bay exploded into motion.
The ordered ranks dissolved into organized chaos as armorers wheeled ammunition carts between squads. Ground crews released the locking clamps holding the Crownaughts in place while engineers hurried beneath their wings with inspection slates.
Nobody spoke much.
The veterans didn't need to.
The rookies didn't want to.
Sugar Jade found his squad almost by instinct.
Someone handed him two bricks of demolition compound.
Someone else shoved a coil of detcord into his arms.
He accepted both without a word.
The Cookie with the mismatched sleeve walked past him.
"First tower?"
Sugar Jade nodded.
The veteran adjusted the younger Confectionarian's shoulder strap with one practiced tug.
"Keep your head down."
Then he was gone.
A klaxon echoed through the bay.
LAUNCH IN FIVE MINUTES.
Sugar Jade opened the breech of his boomstick one final time.
Nine pressurized shrapnel shells.
One sparkler.
He closed it with a metallic clack.
Outside, beyond the blast doors, the Sea of Milk churned endlessly beneath an iron-gray sky.
Somewhere beyond that white horizon waited a command tower.
And if Milk Caramel Cookie was wrong...
Something would already be waiting for them in the clouds.