NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is right now a private meeting. There can be no IC information drawn of concluded from this post. This only pertains to California as her other “allies” have been ignored due to the preset ignore policy of I’ve set. This war takes place after the Burma operation (assuming its completion will be soon), and will be 2005-2010 techs only.

There will be no Out of Character posts on this thread, no unnecessary posting, and no interruptions. All unexcused materiel will be immediately reported to a moderator for cleanup and a request for warning. I am serious, that is what telegrams are for.

As a set of rules, this will be (until further notice) a 1 vs. 1 conflict with no interference from the rest. There will be no use of Weapons of Mass Destruction. Rules of war are enacted and the real-life Geneva Convention will be applied to combat. Violations will result in Bitchfest and nobody wants that. This thread is set to a time period of 2005-2010 (with tech only available from that era…AKA: Post-Modern/Near Future). There will be no numberwanking in this thread, only serious role-playing. Once again, if you cannot post more than a paragraph about what your forces are doing, then the ignore steps in (and that also includes just Copying and Pasting what was said in the last post and adding a few things).

IF a post is direct and posts what would have been lost by the opposing player, that post is to be checked with the person/s involved and mutually agreed upon.

All post edits are to be recorded at the bottom of the post with time, date, and reason for changing.

This OOC matter is subject to edit and my word for this thread is God. Sorry to be hard-ass, but I want my last thread will be my best thread.

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RIN HQ – Nevada, Ruhr
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After several months of constant diplomatic attempts to better the situation, the threat of Californian expansion still lingered over the horizon. After the recent diplomatic attempts to at worst stall their efforts, Chancellor Carver recalled all military assets to Ruhr for restock, earlier regular-scheduled maintenance, and training. It was close now. After the downsizing, reequipping and reorganizing of the Imperial Military, the Ruhrians were going through extensive training across the board to increase readiness. The Knootian troops, originally scheduled to go home after their brief yet extensive training in all sorts of BDI written exercises, were held back and began cooperative training in island hopping on the eastern isles and defence practice strategies for assorted offensives. Now that nearly every warship was brought to Ruhr, the Admiralty began their planning for defence.

Admiral Mikhail Gorbachov was currently the Commander in Chief of the Northern Theatre(CINCNORTH). He was an intelligent man who worked his way up the ladder from a A-4 pilot stationed on one of the early oil-fired carriers, to squadron commander, to carrier-wing commander, to carrier commander, to group commander, to fleet commander, and now was CINCNORTH. His problem was his confidence, as a naval aviator that came as pre-requisite even before the physicals. He was dramatic in his operations; he liked flare and the movie-style combat. The problem was that the military needed to do the job the easiest and most cost-effective way (without losing any soldier). “Let’s put my fleet up north to counter the Californian Alaskan based combat groups. Certainly it isn’t a problem for us to run a few air strikes to counter their capabilities. After extensive bombing, and supply-cutoff missions, there won’t be a problem from the north. And we only need my carriers and escorts too! Probably won’t be any surface-to-surface combat either!” He pointed his finger at a random point in the Pacific Ocean on the map displayed in the Imperial Navy War Room (RINWR). His left lip curled as he spoke giving him a sly smile as though his boys can handle the job and finish the war without anything. If that was what he was thinking, he was right. He hadn’t lost any vehicle or life in any combat since he took over, and his fleet’s preparedness increased a full ten percent to ninety-five. He had a reason to be cocky.

“There isn’t a reason to take the offensive. The Californians have shown no aggression yet and we cannot put all of our main combat assets on the front line. Remember, while they haven’t any intentions to attack the Ruhrian home islands, they very well can. Our main line of defence in this is our navy and all nine-hundred-fifty ships cannot be everywhere at once. There is need to leave some of our vessels on a home-guard to assist with the Reserve Fleet’s operations,” declared Fleet Admiral Lancaster of the Indian Ocean Fleet. His operation was mostly protection anyways ---the majority of his fleet was on guard duty for the Ruhrian islands and allies in that specific theatre. Although his naval plans succeeded in Operation Jungle Spear, there was not much for him to take the offence for. In turn, the most cautious admiral was given the most caution-required command.

Admiral of the Navy, Grand Admiral Alex Dinan, broke the discussion with his own statement, “Listen, there are more Californian ground troops than there are Ruhrians. Those mud-huggers are going to be the ones landing on the shores of these islands here in the Pacific. We have every available ship not in operation here to stop that from happening.” Dinan sighed before he continued, “Now it is obvious the one thing we need to do here, which is the same thing the Americans did to stop the Japanese with their imperialism, is cutting their supply lines. It is the best way to cut the enemy down both in moral and in ability to expand. Our submarine force here in the Pacific will be able to fulfill that duty. Our next job is then attacking their frontline assets with strategies like Admiral Gorbachov suggested. Now, we have these two principles set. Our restriction is leaving enough force to cover our supply lines and defend the next targeted area…as well as Ruhr.”

The conversation went on for a good deal of time. After a great amount of debate, the group was satisfied with a worthy naval plan for an upcoming war. Now that Ruhr’s main asset was set, the rest of the Ruhrian military effort will follow in its wake and schedule. With hope, the diplomacy will be able to end all possibilities of war. While Dinan hoped all he wanted, his occupation was to assume that diplomacy failed and he took command of the situation with the twenty inch barrels he called “reasoning”. Two submarines were subsequently ordered reconnaissance duty, and the rest of the Ruhrian Imperial Navy would continue strenuous “joint” training with the Air Force, Army, and Marines.

The dawn of war laughed on the horizon, with each day passing she squeezed the comfort out of prey and replaced it with that horrible feeling of insecurity. The one thing the Ruhrians could do now was wait…and pray if diplomacy failed that their newly revised strategies for war could end what would have been started.

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Quezan City, Philippines
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The C-130s rolled right in behind the C-5 Galaxies, who were now disembarking their UAVs –Unmanned Aerial Vehicles— codenamed DarkStar. The four reconnaissance birds were preparing for immediate trial runs in the theatre to prepare for immediate take off. Onboard the C-130s were the men and women who worked with the UAVs as well as the Ruhrian Marines whom were guided by their findings.

Major General Allen Edwards walked off the first Hercules last. The rest of his command—the four and quarter thousand Marines—were to be flying in shortly afterwards to begin their strenuous travel to the shores of Luzon, the most northern major island of the Philippines. Edwards was an uncommon officer, not only was he book smart but he came from the position of J-3, meaning he had the intelligence analysis capabilities to determine his book smart actions. He was simply the best person to be leading a defence network of one of the enemy’s major targets. He inspected the unloading of the Light-Infantry Vehicles the marines brought. The New Genoese “Super-Fox” IFV was top-notch and replaced the M2 Bradley that the Ruhrians liked so very much. A second vehicle rolled out of the massive C-5, this one with four antennas and small satellite receiver—it was his command vehicle. Upon embarking, Edwards unfolded a map of the northern island. He inched down. Obviously this was not a vehicle designed for coordinating frontline defence, he thought. A small island lay off the northeastern peninsula on Luzon, it was a hilly and jungle-covered sector called C. Engano…and probably paralleled the point of entry for a Californian Invasion.

“Major Williams,” he called for the driver—the entire crew of his CFV (Command Fighting Vehicle) was officers--, “Bring us up to…uhh...Grid 7-2-4-Alpha. I want to inspect the area.”

“Yes, General,” the driver replied. The vehicle left the makeshift Ruhrian airbase and picked up speed on the highway. Edwards looked out the window and looked at the base’s own defences, a few of their best SAM emplacements, a good number of well protected FLAK, an artillery place here and there, and a good number of troops garrisoned. The problem with bases, however, was that no matter how defended they were, they were still stationary and major targets.

General Edwards looked at the SatRec (Satellite Reconnaissance) photos of the area. Yeah, this is where they are coming…soft beach with deep-water not so far out, and typically flat landing spots. It’s also on their path around the Pacific Rim. If they can punch through the thin line from the Navy, they would land here. But they don’t know I will be there waiting for them. Tanks, helicopters, marines, artillery, and aircraft would all be waiting for them.
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Californian Republic
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Lt. Ambassador Danner walked through the door of the Californian Secretary of Foreign Affairs. After being guided through the hallways to reach the office, he quickly and firmly shook hands with the other Ambassador. “Ambassador, I am terribly sorry for walking in so abruptly. As you know, Ambassador Lexon was called back for consultation with our Secretary of State, he would have delivered this message to you.” Danner reached into the inside pocket of his dress jacket and pulled out a very fine envelope addressed not to him, but to the Californian Republic as a whole. It was a serious note as a last-minute ultimatum generally saying we know what you are up to, stop now or prepare to take it up with us.

The Californian opened the letter and read it with little to no expression on his face, damn, this guy would be a great poker player. He took his time, probably reading it a second time. When he was finished he raised his head and looked Danner in the eye, “I will move this along to my superiors and will get back to you when we can.”

“Thank you for your time,” he said standing up from his seat. They both shook hands like professionals, after all…it was their occupation, it wasn’t personal. Danner left the room and went back to his small embassy where he reported to Secretary Peters what exactly happened in the ten-minute meeting.

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R.N.S. Truth and Reconciliation
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The Radar team practiced coordinating its intelligence and target-locating with the gun crews and missile batteries of the extraordinary vessel. With the modified AEGIS Weapons Control System, the guns were automatically given the coordinates without ever needing to deal with constant relay information. The crewmen in the WepsCon (Weapons Control) selected the target for each battery and the rest was dealt with by the computer system. Almost seconds after the target was selected, the guns began to turn and the twelve, enormous twenty inch main cannons of the RNS Truth and Reconciliation opened up on the old, rotted away Korean War era destroyer.

The training and test-fire of every ship took place throughout the Pacific. The Joint Chiefs of Staff realised that, oddly enough, the main line of defence was also the main spearhead force in this upcoming conflict. The Navy was the only true ground-holding group that gave the make-or-break defence for the islands, as well as the only way to truly attack an island-hopping conquest. Training was, as usual, the only way to prepare for such an event. The crews were not as tense now as they would be when that red lights brightened and those bells on the ships rang four times. That was when the dawn of war was upon them.

Edit #1: Changed title from Pacific Rim War (Closed RP)[Attn: California & Alaska] to The Pacific Rim War
Time: 12:33 GMT -4 April 4th, 2004

Los Angeles, California

Sandra was coming from her mansion in Long Beach when the call came from General Marx. "Sandra, you're not going to believe this, just hours ago we have received a letter... an ultimatum from the Ruhrians. They want us to stay out of the WestPac (Western Pacific) or else" Marx said putting emphasis on the word 'else'.

Sandra had now floored the gas pedal of her Maserati and sped all the way to the SCG Tower, yanking off the seat belt, pulling the keys from the ignition and grabbing her purse from the passenger seat of the car she walked briskly into the lobby and tossed her keys at the valet driver. After stepping into one of the express elevators she reached into her purse and drew her cellular phone and dialed the members of the Californian Parliament and asked them to arrange a meeting in three hours.

Hours later Sandra laid it all down before the Parliament. "I don't expect any of you to take this news well, in fact I know that a good number of you won't support the measures I think we should take. So to get things out of the way, I think that the best thing to do is to tell you everything.

As of the year 2219 the Sovereign Federation resumed its role as an expansionist empire in pursuit of adding something in the neioghborhood of a dozen republics to our federation, in the process of doing so we have lost one of our valuable allies and now we're going to have to fight them. As the President and Potentate General of this nation and its military, I highly advise that we do something - and soon, because if we sit around and we don't expel them before they get too close they will be landing on our soil."

Washington Senator Tanya Petersen stood up "So, you're telling us that during the last twelve years that you've been playing a game of "Take Over The World'? And so now you've encountered some resistance and because of that we have to go to war?"

Sandra straightened herself "Now I didn't say that, but if you want to put it that way… yes. During the last decade and a half California has been looking to expand its borders, and because of this we were challenged by one of our former allies because we, in his words 'posed an immediate and definite threat to the sovereignty of the nations of the Western Pacific Rim' and we backed down under threat of an armed conflict. Anyways… before I let any of you speak on this matter I am going to let General Xander Marx explain things a little better."

Gen. Marx stepped up to the podium with his hair slicked back and his hat tucked under his arm, and after greeting everyone proceeded to get down to business. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Parliament, I am here to tell you that after repeated land concessions, and diplomacy meetings with Ruhrian officials… after California repeatedly said that it had backed down and did not want a conflict, the Ruhrians are picking the fight with us. Just hours ago we received a letter from a Ruhrian ambassador basically telling us to 'drop the facade, we know that you haven't completely backed down and we know you're still coming for the western Pacific Rim'. Now ladies and gentlemen, I don't know how best to stress the importance of this... but the Ruhrian people are as militaristic as we are, and if we don't move quickly things could get really ugly."

Ogden, East Nevada — F.S.S.C.

At the Californian Department of Defense Headquarters, General Mark Andrews sat at his desk watching CNN News when Lt. Gen. Ericson walked into his office and dropped a thick folder on his desk, Gen. Andrews opened the folder and picked up the first satellite photograph. "It's the Philippines... but — What the hell?!"

Lt. Gen. Ericson took the next photograph and showed him "Thirty-six hours ago, Sitka-1 took this satellite photo above the Pacific... four-hundred and thirty miles east-southeast of Japan. And this one, roughly seven-hundred miles west of Pearl..."

Gen. Andrews looked up from the photograph "Who's are they?"

Lt. Gen. Ericson swallowed "Sir, it appears that those ships... are Ruhrian."

General Andrews dismissed Lt. Gen. Ericson from his office and waited a good ten minutes before calling the SCG Tower.

Los Angeles, California — F.S.S.C.

The day had been rough on Sandra, especially since someone from the Parliament leaked news about the possibility of a war with the Ruhrians to the public, now that it had gone public she and her staff were incessantly stalked by news reporters and cameramen. Getting to the SCG Tower late because of the crowd in front of the lobby, she called security to come down and disperse the crowd, walking into the express elevator she took it up to the Saffyre Floor. After stepping out of the elevator she seen Gen. Marx standing near the entrance with a thick aluminum briefcase in one hand, and the thick folder of satellite photographs and forwarded intelligence, after making her way to the door she leaned over to him "What's the situation, Xander?"

General Marx sighed "It's not good Sandra, we have received word that the Ruhrians may be on their way here."

Sandra looked up and down the hallway "Xander, are you certain — that those ships are Ruhrian?"

General Marx looked at her "I am almost certain."

At that Sandra and Xander walked into the Californian Parliament Room, General Xander took the podium first and delivered the information as bluntly as it could come "Ladies and gentlemen of the Parliament, as of the last thirty-six hours our satellites have picked up increased troop and military movements in and around the Philippine Islands, as well as at least half a dozen naval groups between the Japanese Islands and the Hawaiian Islands. Now before you here are the satellite photos our recon satellites picked up, you will note the large military build up here in and around the Philippines and the series of naval vessels in this area. I cannot stress the likeness of this situation to the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, and if we sit and do nothing we are only inviting disaster... so before you as the Secretary of Defense, I am asking you to take the evidence we have provided here that the Ruhrians are on their way. We must do something before it's too late."

At that General Marx stepped off the podium and took his seat allowing Sandra to make her way to the podium "Now as you have heard from General Marx, and seen from the photographs and intelligence here... the Ruhrians have absolutely no intentions of turning back. I will be contacting the Ruhrian embassy here in the next twenty-four hours to see if this cannot be resolved... if you find yourself here tomorrow, you will know that diplomacy has failed — and you will know what you have to do."

At that Sandra dismissed the session of Parliament and strode from the room with General Marx following close behind, after getting into the elevator Xander fell backwards against the side of the elevator and let out a sigh. "My God I can't believe this is happening."

"Neither can I, Xander... neither can I."

As the elevator came up to the penthouse suite they stepped out of the elevator and walked to the door of Sandra's suite, after entering Sandra walked over to the large window facing towards the Pacific and gazed out at it for a few minutes before turning towards Xander. "Do you want something to drink? you certainly look like you need it."

Xander retrieved his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow "Sure, make it gin and tonic."

Sandra walked over to the mini-bar and poured his gin and tonic and a glass of bourbon & cola with lime for herself, after handing him his drink she laughed "You look like hell... let me guess it was the meeting in Parliament? I'll tell you one thing... try not to look at the people themselves, stare at the back wall when you speak. It's also better to come in while you're slightly intoxicated, it helps take the edge off of meetings like this."

Xander laughed "Here's to the War of the Pacific Rim"

Sandra laughed "To the War... of the Pacific Rim"

^ posted ^

:twisted:

OOC: Good post, Cali.

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RNS Rhine
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Captain Silen paced about the CIC—Combat Information Center—with a determination. She walked past the sonar several times in the last hour, entered the communications center twice, and the WepsCon numerous times. Now she hovered over the navigation’s map with keen eyes. The last few contacts had completely ignored her vessel, if they even picked it up (which was in the Ruhrian’s favor due to the depth of the vessel traveled at and its extremely quiet acoustics, not to mention the fact that the contacts were most likely commercial fishing vehicles not even belonging to California). The first of its class of missile-attack submarines silently slipped through the waters to the northeast of Hawaii.

The crush depth for the missile submarine was one thousand six hundred and sixty five feet. The Rhine had been cruising at high speeds just under one thousand four hundred feet, deep enough to clear the thermo cline and with plenty of room to avoid passing ‘enemies’. Silen had been overly liberal with the use of ‘safe’ tactics throughout her career, and on this operation she had no plans to change that. “Sonar, any contacts?”

“No, Ma’am, Captain Silen. No contacts since that trawler back twelve hours ago. Sonar efficiency is at sixty-five percent though, I suggest we slow down so we can get a better feel for what is ahead and behind,” suggestively said Lt. Second Class Brown, a drop out from Hamburg University where he studied information technology and computer systems. When he enlisted for the Navy, they saw his talent and put it to use on one of their attack submarines, now he serves his time on one of Ruhr’s latest and most tactically favored attack vessel…the nearly silent land killer from below.

“Very well,” she agreed and turned her head to the navigations officer. “McKinley, make your depth eight hundred feet, bring us out of this channel and put us where we can see. You plot the course.”

“Aye, Aye, Captain!” the officer responded with enthusiasm. No one was enthusiastic, a war was about to begin. It was their job though to follow through. And right now, their job was to get within striking distance if needed.

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Hokkaido Air Station
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The E-3C Sentry was just landing after its exhausting eight hours of straight combat training over Japan. Ruhrian officials had made it clear that the Japanese were a target for Californian expansion and were stressing that all Japanese prepare for combat. While most of the citizens responded, the newly elected liberal government was unwilling to commit to the defence of the nation. As a result, Ruhr had to boost its efforts to defend not only the Philippines, Malaysia, and Indonesia, but also Japan—whom the Cabinet believed would have sprung to the defensive if they were to be attacked. But they were wrong, they thought the Californians had made it clear they were not going to expand further. It aggravated the government and the troops already on station. “Colonel?” asked one of the radar men sitting at his console, “wouldn’t the Californians strike closer to Tokyo to destroy their infrastructure?”

Colonel Charleston looked up and at his crewmember, “That is a good point. I’ll bring that up with the General. I was actually wondering that myself. I am pretty sure we have naval and air coverage there too. I am not so sure about land defence though. ‘Till then, we should probably keep close to Tokyo and keep two of these AWACS flying at all times.”

Three anti-aircraft regiments of both the Japanese and the Ruhrian Armies were actually guarding Tokyo. Along with those, another air wing of F-15 Strike Eagles had been stationed to defend and intercept. The amount of materiel sent to Japan alone was outstanding, over fifty thousand Ruhrian soldiers were covering Tokyo and the cities around it. Beach defences were set, temporary radar stations, military exercises, and even Japanese FLAK guns from the Cold War had been set up around the main sectors. The defence for Japan was on the increase despite their government’s reluctance to defend against an obvious threat.

It was now a question of whether or not the Japanese Navy could stand up to the challenge of defending where the thin Ruhrian line needed it. Of the twenty-five super-carriers of the Ruhrian Imperial Navy, only three were stationed to defend Japan permanently. That was barely enough to defend the entire country, but that was pending the commitment of Californian forces to the Japanese Front.

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Nuremburg, Ruhr
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The lawn outside the Chancellor’s Hall was packed with reporters and television crews who obviously wanted to speak about the increased defences and the Californian situation. Carver looked out the second story window and peered at the excited commotion. The minority party of liberals were protesting, despite the fact this would be a war to stop imperialism, the news crews were camped out to get the first live coverage of anything that happened, and the conservatives stood by their right-winged government. War was not easy, especially not for those that had to run the country. Carver had just ended a cabinet meeting in which he asked his SecDef, SecTreas, SecState, and DDI to stay to discuss. “All right, guys. Let’s hear it. What do we need to worry about, and what do we already know.”

The Secretary of Treasury was dealing specifically with the economy and how to keep the precious stuka at its already high level. Of course with an upcoming war, the economy would be geared for military production—for which it was already at an all time high anyways—and would most likely be subject for extraordinary shape up in a full scale mobilisation. While Ruhr had munitions, fuel, and installations across the pacific ocean, the economy and its industries had to be read to feed the multi-million person military, produce enough bullets for arming the multi-million person military, and enough fuel to transport the multi-million person military. “As of now, we are very ready to have the public and its industries mobilised. The Automobile industry is ready to produce what it can, especially parts and light vehicles. The weapons and arms manufacturing industries are prepared to increase production six fold, or so they tell me. My research segment agrees but thinks those numbers are optimistic. And last but not least, our shipbuilding is at its finest hour. We have plenty of docks, and plenty of resources to make enough replacement parts, as well as brand new vessels, in a short amount of time. I know that the Defense Department had authorised my department to oversee the budgeting, and I’ve made sure we have keels laid down for seven more frigates, twelve different destroyers, a cruiser, and three submarines. A new battleship and carrier are already nearing completion at the Narrows Island Shipyard up in that island,” he concluded. Mike O’Neill was essentially on top of things and has already pre-set the economy to war-time mode with as little public interference as possible.

“Now, continuing on what Mike said,” piggy-backed Jack Fady—Secretary of Defence. “We have troops on our way to Malaysia, New Guinea, and the Solomon’s…essentially the entire Coral Sea, but we have troops on the ground on the major targets of Japan, the Philippines, and Indonesia. As it stands, as all of us have acknowledged, our primary line is our navy. We outnumber then two to one in this. A lot of that comes from our middle-ranged ships like destroyers and cruisers…which is good. We have plenty of heavy assets to make our stand.” He sighed with the anxiety of which all of them felt before he continued, “Our main goal here is to break them before they can both move and land.”

He unfolded a small map and placed it on the coffee table they all sat around. He pointed to several locations on the map and told them where the carriers and task forces were, and why they were there. Two sizeable task forces from the 1st Atlantic Attack Fleet were moving to the east of Hawaii, with a third from the Atlantic to the south. He then pointed to two small marks that someone had made with a red pen. “If all goes wrong in twenty-two hours, this is where we begin it all. We have two cruise-missile submarines here and…here. They are going to be our pets in this. While the task forces distract, they move to their objective elsewhere. I’ll tell you guys more about it if this goes down, but Dmitri has already given me his permission.” Fady looked slyly at the Chancellor who in turn nodded. “Anyways, our defence here at home is mainly based on our Reserve Fleet and the 2nd Pacific. We have the Air Force flying twenty-four hours on extended patrols, we have AWACS running simulations with the troops, and we have our radars on limited use to protect from their surface radar. We also have a new frequency jammer that we built when we had the 1st Arctic up in Alaska. I made sure our boys picked up what they had there so we knew how to stop it in any case. From what I can see, it works well.”

Carver interrupted, “Ok, Jack. It seems like you have it planned and I trust you. If you can pull off the first operation, I’ll give you a free hand on what goes on next. Now, Mark,” Dmitri turned his head to his Secretary of State, “what can we expect?”

“When Danner handed over the message, he said they were almost with no emotion. He read it, said he’d call back in the morning and he left. There was nothing more to it than that,” Peters announced. Mark had served, along with Fady, in Firestorm’s previous administration. He was battle-hardened, at least on the diplomatic warfront, and knew what to say and when to say it. He knew how to convey a message and in what environment to say it in. Mark was a smart man—young, but smart.

Carver shook his head while his hand scratched at his five-o’clock shadow. “A quiet country and army is a country and army planning to do something. How do you think they are going to react?”

“If they react with sincerity and apologetically, we know they are not going to expand. Well, not know, but have a good feeling. However, if they are shocked and angered at the news, we can expect trouble.”

“Well, we will tell over time. Jack, are we ready to step foot immediately after we get the news?” Carver just wanted to make sure.

“Yes, sir. We are one hundred percent ready with full mobilisation of both the active dutiers and the reservists. Operation Bare-Back is a go, also. We just need the word.”

“And Mike, can you assure me that this won’t hit our market?”

“If anything, Dmitri, it will boost it.”

The meeting adjourned with high hopes for the Ruhrians. For the first time since World War II that Ruhr had been ordered to full-scale mobilisation of both the military and the economy. Oil Production and imports were put to high with security detachments around the oilers and super-tankers. Nuclear Power Plants had been put on high-alert for terror. Airports and harbours were under constant surveillance. Where troops were needed, troops were placed. From the beaches of the islands to the highways and bridges, the Ruhrians were ready.

“All right then everyone. Let us meet tomorrow after the Californians give us a response.” Dmitri stood and walked to his desk while the others let themselv

Bump to get attention!

#tag# 8)
*points to 100k Knootians training in the pacific

EDIT: This may magically turn into an actual post later...

I have temporarily lost my internet connection due to a hardware problem... this war will reconvene as soon as I am back online... until then I am going to be playing SuperPower on PC and learning everything I can on war strategies, etc... :twisted:

Also... this post may magically turn into an IC post soon as well :twisted:

"Sir, External Security has a new report on the Ruhr-California situation."

The Warlord turned away from the videoconferencing session with the head of the Foreign Service Department and nodded acknowledgement. He finished detailing the government's positions in the recently initiated Argyllian situation and keyed the system off. He stretched and waved the communications technician over as he sipped on a now-cold cup of coffee.

"Go ahead, what's the bad news?"

Tech-5 Armstrong was a bit worried about the Warlord's health. The Argyllian crisis seemed to have aged the man ten years. A smattering of grey colored the hair at his temples, and he slumped as he sat at the control console. "Sir, our agents in both countries indicate that war is nearly inevitable at this point. External Security considers the probability to be 92%, plus or minus 3%."

The weariness in the Warlord's eyes slowly vanished as he called up the relevant SSIN traffic. Following instructions, Armstrong continued her report. "Ruhrian mobilization is essentially complete, and their shipyards have begun focusing on those ships which can be completed and put to sea within the next few weeks. Most of their fleet is already at sea, and we've been picking up increased operational chatter on all of their military channels, all over the Rim."

The Warlord issued hit several keys on his console, before swiveling his chair around and waving the tech to silence. He stood and tossed his coffee cup into a wastebasket. "Right. As of now, this situation has priority over all other ES data. Put that in the order book. Get this out to all units: Expect Ruhr and California Alaska to commence hostilities in the near future. All EOE assets will take whatever measures deemed necessary to ensure unit security and protection of Expanded Zone. The Dominion is NOT involved in current crisis, but may be affected by war efforts of Ruhr/CA actions nearby.

UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES will any EOE units take any offensive measures against Ruhrian or California Alaskan units without DIRECT authorization from Mikalgard. Notify HQ if combat nearby threatens the security of EOE assets at once. Any prudent defensive measures are authorized in advance."

After keying in his personal authentication, the Warlord strode out of the Information Center. He had another unpleasant report to make to His Omniferocity.

Within minutes, the massive Evil Overlord Enterprises military juggernaut started changing the focus of their attention from the Southwest Pacific and began looking north. The launch schedule for the new series of surveillance satellites was moved up, and scores of BF-6R reconnaissance aircraft were staged to the remote islands the Dominion had recently acquired during Operation Riposte. A storm was coming to the northern Pacific. The Dominion was not in the direct path of the storm, but the Master of Malevolence was a firm believer in the Law of Unintended Consequences. If the coming war affected the Dominion, the Dominion would be ready.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Honolulu, Hawaii - F.S.S.C.

The week had been hell for Capt. Nathan Spradlin after spending three months doing exercises off the coasts of Argentina and South Africa he thought he was going to be able to go home, that was until the call came to take the Sierra Nevada battlegroup and head to the Pacific. After making his way through the Panama Canal he had received his orders from Los Angeles, after getting some time and much needed privacy in his office he sat down at his desk and opened the thick white folder held shut by a thick band of red adhesive paper reading in bold letters "FOR YOUR EYES ONLY" with a small print of the Strategic Forces Department seal.

After getting comfortable and preparing a glass of the finest Irish single malt whiskey he ripped the thin band of paper off and opened the folder, reading the first few lines of the first page his jaw dropped taking a gulp of whiskey he kept reading. "Capt. Nathan Spradlin, you are being sent to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii due to the impending crisis in the Pacific Rim, diplomacy with the Ruhrians has failed and the worst has happened. As of August 9, 2006 we have fallen to DEFCON 2 and are steadily approaching a war in the Pacific. In the next week if and when we fall to DEFCON 1, you will receive an update to your orders via satellite with a set of targets and confirmation codes for your electro-magnetic pulse missile arsenal.

On your way to Pearl Harbor, if you should encounter any Ruhrian units that show any signs of hostility do not fire until fired upon, your ship has been armed with a set of sixth generationship-to-ship missiles with tungsten-carbonadium alloy armor piercing tips armed with EMP warheads. However, if you arrive in Pearl Harbor uneventfully you are to allow your men two weeks leave in Honolulu until you recieve your orders, in any event should a conflict erupt before you reach Pearl Harbor you are to call for reinforcements and head to Pearl Harbor anyways."

We hope to hear from you soon.
Secretary of the Navy, Johnathan G. Andrews"

Nathan closed the folder and took another gulp of the Irish single malt whiskey and sighed before saying "My God, it has literally begun." After downing the last bit of whiskey in one fluid motion he took the papers to his wall safe and stashed them inside until the next set of orders came in from Los Angeles.

On the SCV California Capt. Jeremy W. Kay was reading an exact copy of the papers Captain Spradlin was reading on the SCV Sierra Nevada, except his orders differed slightly from the ones Spradlin received, instead of waiting for reinforcements him and the captains of the other battleships in the Sierra Nevada battlegroup were not to engage the units of the Ruhrian battlegroup, but to get close enough to get in contact with them and give an ultimatum to leave the area and to return fire only if fired upon.
What Capt. Kay didn't know was that another battleship was being sent to Japan to try and convince the Japanese and the Ruhrians there that California wasn't going to attack.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Greater Los Angeles, California - F.S.S.C.

Sandra walked in through the large oak double doors of her SCG suite with her jacket and purse tucked under her right arm and dropped them on the sofa in the living room before entering her kitchen and taking a bottle of whiskey from the refrigerator, after pouring about three shots into a glass and taking a bottle of Coca-Cola from the refrigerator and putting the whiskey back and taking some lemon juice she poured some of the cola into the glass, squeezing some of the lemon juice into the drink causing it to fizz. She had only taken two drinks before her cell phone started ringing, annoyed she put her drink down and went to the sofa and retrieved her phone from her purse "First, before anything is said, I know you didn't want this done but the Vice President authorized the Navy to send a vessel to Japan to try and convince the Ruhrians and the Japanese that we mean no harm."

Sandra's face immediately went from slightly annoyed to greatly annoyed "What?! what kind of ship was sent?"

"We sent the BBGN-1 Iowa battleship with three emissaries on board, we hope to let the Ruhrians and the Japanese know that we have no intentions on attacking them, If this goes well—"

"It was her idea to send the emissaries to Japan... on board a f×××ing battleship?! The first monent they see the battleship they're immediately going to think we have hostile intentions with them. How far is the ship from Japan?"

"It should be arriving in Yokosuka within the hour."

"Is the ship armed? I mean if things should come to the worst I want them to be able to hold their own and get back to Pearl Harbor safely."

"From what I understand the ships are carrying some modified Ship-to-Ship and Ship-to-Surface missiles armed with EMP and incendiary warheads, we feel that the Iowa is fully capable of defending itself."

"If you're certain that the Iowa is completely safe I will allow this to proceed."

Sandra then hung up and finished her drink before shutting her phone off, she then walked into her bedroom and collapsed on the bed and passed out.

Sunday, August 27, 2006

After almost a week non-stop hours of sailing from Panama, Capt. Jeff Randall of the Iowa finally reached Yokosuka harbor and dropped anchor, walking down to the mess hall he picked up soe breakfast before heading to bed. In a few hours the emissaries would go on shore and try to settle things diplomatically and this whole thing would be over... at least he thought so.

OOC: Evil Overlord, I swear you took my idea for the Satellite Reconnaissance launch!

And California, I don’t know what an EMP missile is, can you please explain it on mIRC and if it is usable in our timeframe. Thanks.

-----------------------------
Nuremburg, Ruhr
-----------------------------

Diane Els walked into the office after knocking, along with her came the Secretary of State. “Dmitri, we have their response.”

Carver read it, his eyes going over the obviously stressed words. “Anger, misdirection…what else can they be doing?”

“Intelligence has these photos they gave for me to give you also,” he said handing over a manila folder marked with the generic TOP SECRET red ink. The first was of the mobilisation of Californian ground troops. Massive reserve call ups typically meant something was going on. The next series was of two task forces had left their southern ports also, possibly for transit to Pearl Harbour.

“Can we make the assumption?”

“I honestly do not think there is anything else, look at these words here.” He pointed at the papers, with his finger lingering over specific ones and translating them diplomatically to the Chancellor. “What would you think?”

“So, it’s about to begin.” He closed his eyes and leaned back in the mildly comfortable office chair. The ball was now in his court, he had the option. Yes, the Ruhrians would evidently be the aggressors. But to be aggressive first is always better. And besides, the Joint Chief of Staff assured him that their new reconnaissance systems can certainly win the war for them. “Do we have any further diplomatic options, Mark?”

“If you want to delay this as much as possible, yes. The problem with delaying it is the fact that they would have their entire reserve force called up and prepared for armed combat to the best of their reserve-talent capabilities. Our reserve fleet is up, and we’ve given them control of a few of the newer vessels too. I mean, we do have the capability sir. I’d be best to strike them when they are not at full strength.” Mark tried to reason with himself, diplomacy was obviously failing. What other option would there be. To argue and exchange useless bickering constantly would only bring up their readiness. “Well, sir. It’s your call. I just convey the message.”

“Let’s bring the fight to them.” He paused, his wrist propped his head up as he slid his glasses on to re-read the letter again. He pressed a button on his phone, “Diane, can I please have the DDI please?”

----------------------------------------------
Lexicon Compound, New Ruhr
----------------------------------------------

The watch crew were frantically reorganizing the Ruhrian’s vast satellite reconnaissance network. The DDI—Director of Defence Intelligence—ordered the station to begin the recon war, wasn’t it true in all wars though? If you could know where their troops were and hide where yours were, you had the upper advantage, right? Well, that was what they had been trained to do. Colonel Lenahan had been running frantically around the buried military complex to check progress and deliver orders. “Colonel!” was, seemingly, the only word that he had heard all morning. “Be right there!” he responded frequently.

They were all reports about the naval capabilities of California. Their nuclear-driven vessels were all heating up, and their regular gas-turbine or diesel ships had been warming up and doing the stocking. He collected the information and sent it back to the Defence Intel HQ over in Nuremburg. It was true, there was a massive mobilisation over on the other bank of the river. New heat signatures of their submarines were popping up across the board. The longer ones were obviously the strategic submarine assets, typically escorted by attack subs or a nearby surface combatant. The photos were outstanding though, the one meter resolution had been improved dramatically. The impending horror that the photos had captured though were enough to give any man in combat boots a tremble.

“COLONEL!” A captain from the Navy’s joint-reconnaissance program had called for him. He was running the satellite launch segment of the operation. Two more reconnaissance birds were on the launch pad and on the final minute countdown. “T-minus fifty-nine seconds!”

The Lenahan put the manila folders on the table and ran to the console across the war room. His watch had been unusually successful at gathering information, and to be able to launch two more recon birds into the air on last-minute notice would certainly look good on his resume for his possible promotion. But that was the last thing on his mind, the bird’s launch would be more important.

The red of the solid-fuel rockets soon replaced the gray of the smoke. The cameras blurred out as the rocket slowly lifted from the ground with an intense trail of fire propelling it upwards. Within seconds the launch vehicle had shrunken in the camera’s radar guided view from a massive hunk of metal to a small glowing light followed by a trail of smoke. The tracking stations across the Pacific had also picked up the launch and had watched it as it arched into space. The second bird went up shortly after the last with the same ground shaking awesomeness as the last.

It was a good day for the recon war.

--------------------------------
Japan Defence Line
--------------------------------

The catapult pulled the F-14 Tomcat forward, it lurched forward on the deck of the RNS Hatteras. The afterburners forced the massive interceptor into the air and immediately rolled to starboard. Admiral Washington walked back into the bridge of the nuclear powered super-carrier. “Admiral, that’s the last of the patrols off. The Task Force is requesting orders, sir.” The nameless lieutenant stood at attention as the Admiral walked to the navigations chart.

He knew his orders: take the task force north to rendezvous with fleet for an attack. It was all back in the Admiral’s Meeting last week. Pretty routine, or so he thought. “Give me a battle group communications link.” After establishing a link, the communications lieutenant handed him the phone. “All vessels, turn north east on course zero-eight-two. Speed: twenty-five knots. All vessels on Orange-Alert, commanders are ordered to confirm new heading and status.”

The communications was overburdened with responses as the carrier rolled to starboard at high speeds. Everything on deck was secured, as was the Air Wing Commander’s personal doctrine. The Admiral observed the operations and looked through his binoculars at the other vessels in the task force, each commenced their turns at the same time. The frigates were the most capable of rapid turns, each were trimarans and had extraordinary power and stability. Nonetheless, the next leg of the trip was to proceed north along with two other carriers for the next operation. The RNS Ryan Mclaren and Allen Roosevelt were also making their turns for the rendezvous point.

----------------------
RNS Rhine
----------------------

The sonar officer had been sitting there for well over his designated watch. His duty was to perform when he needed to, so he sat and listened, reported what he had heard, and kept track of what he had heard. Right now, they were sitting just below the island of Kauai with an extremely slow and quiet approach in the moderately deep waters towards Oahu. Nothing was around them, which was good. They’d need to perform their duties quickly and get out even faster if they were to even think about escaping undetected. Williams couldn’t hear the Rhine’s sistership, Montgommery, but he knew she was there not more than fifty miles off their starboard. As soon as that communications came in, the two submarines were to return to firing depth and make their way the hell out.

Lt. (JG) Williams wore his blue hat underneath the earphones. The yellow on blue wording spelled: “RNS Rhine – SSGN-72”. The fancy Navy-terms translated to the 72nd conventional missile submarine in the Ruhrian Imperial Navy and the first in her class. She had a fine sonar system on the vessel, especially for being boomer-cousin. The towed array sonar could pick up nearly everything when the submarine was just running at navigational speeds—under five knots, typically, depending on the ocean’s current, which was also what they were traveling at.

He heard a pair of whales singing at their harmonious frequencies just to the port of the sub. They danced through the water around the bow, as he could see on his display screens. “Go away you ugly thing! I can’t hear!” It was annoying when they got right infront of the bow sonar or rubbed against the hull. “Damn fish.” It didn’t matter, their orders were to stay quiet until the orders came.

“Afraid the big fishy is goin’ to hurt your pretty little sonar?” the XO asked with that mocking tone. He laughed at himself, so what his humor was only enough for himself. “Anyways, anything else floating around with us?”

“Aside from those whales, we’ve got some kind of private sport yacht running to Kauai…running hot too. But those guys always run hot, they’re civilians who like speed and water. It’s what they do. Aside from that, there is no way they knew we were here unless the water is a hell of a lot clearer than what the reports are…and besides, we’re sitting next to this WWII wreck, any MAD would pick it up over us,” Williams reasoned with Tom Seiko that they wouldn’t get caught.

Williams rested against the bulkhead and nodded thoughtlessly, “I’ve been briefed. And the water is dark here, we’re just deep enough to be out of sight, really. But it’s always a concern.” It was a submariner’s worst nightmare to be seen from a plane, or worse, a boat. It wasn’t clear anyways, they were fine.

“Anyways, we got an ELF message a few minutes ago. War is imminent, we’re the first strikers. You make sure you tell us anything around us,” Sieko noted.

“War…imminent?”

“Yep. We have twenty-four hour notification and attack-on-site authorization. Cap’ says we’ll be using that. Just letting you know what’s goin’ down. I’ll give you more when we get updated.” He walked out of the little compartment back to communications. This was not good.

-----------------------------------
East Pacific Wolfpack
-----------------------------------

The tender David Burns hid among a small atoll off Mexico. Dangerously close to land, but hidden well enough to avoid locals as a normal expeditionary vessel and to avoid satellite as cargo container broken down and waiting for repair. The seemingly harmless vessel was transmitting the orders and tracking it’s squadron of attack subs to their designated sectors off of the Californian harbours. Los Angeles, San Diego, San Francisco, and Seattle were all being stalked by two of the world’s quietest class of submarines hunting for the first thing to step foot out of their territorial waters…

All it took was a simple ELF Message that said: Go. And they waited for that message. The Wolfpack’s commanding officer was Commodore Garrett Schneider. He directly commanded eight of the Ruhrian’s Attack Boat force. The office that went along with his job was crampt, but adequately supplied with the best for his command. A nice wood desk along with the dark wood frame of the walls held up the façade of an expeditionary force. He was now looking at weather briefings for the Pacific. A storm to the north was keeping SatRec to a minimal. Those theatre operations still proceeded, but with a little delay for storm doctrine.

There was a knock on the hatch, “Commodore, we have CINCSUBPAC on the line. He has some interesting news.”

“Thanks, tell Jonesy to put it on my private line.”

“Aye, sir!” The captain walked back and moments after, that generic phone ring broke Schneider’s train of thought.

“Commodore Schneider. Line is secure,” he said to his superior.

“Garrett! Good morning to you. Listen, I know you are savvy about the situation, but I wanted to let you know now that they are heating up their engines,” Admiral Boyer said wearily. “Things aren’t looking good. Either they are looking to deploy to match our current scaling, or they really mean something. Nothing is looking good though. What do your boys say?”

“They are up for anything, sir. I’m a little bothered about the subject, but I’ll do anything to help out sir. I wish I had an escort somewhere. If you can supply one, I’d be willing to come out of hiding here.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Schneider. Now, I wanted to talk to you about operations.” He babbled on for another twenty minutes, nothing was new. He’d known it all from the files he had sent to him. He just listened to them again and took notes of the primary targets.

“Oh, Schneider. One more thing, the emissaries from California were sent to Yokosuka Harbour to show that, somehow, they don’t mean any harm…they do this in a Battleship. They are using new missiles with special penetration warheads. Not much is known about them, but the armour on the majority of vessels is expected to hold up well.”

“God, and they parked it right in Japan? What do we have to counter it there?”

“As of now, we have an SSN parked under a pier in the harbour with it target in all six of its torpedo tubes. Talks aren’t going well, and if they fail that ship is the first to be targeted. We have a system jammer on it and we’ve put a bunch of temporary CIWS around the battleship.

“Right, sir. I’ll report to you with any more information I have. Schneider out.”

------------------------------------
RIN HQ, Nevada, Ruhr
------------------------------------

The captain on watch ran into his flag officer’s office holding a few photographs with a small note on a post-it. He saluted upon entering and said, “Admiral, we have something big.” Admiral Dinan grabbed the papers and looked over them.

“Get me the Chancellor, the SecDef, and the SecState, now!”

----------------------
RNS Rhine
----------------------

“ELF Transmition! Captain Silen, we have a message!” Lt. Williams ran into the Conn Tower from his small compartment. “It’s big Captain.”

She read the file while she sat in the comfortable seat she often called her desk. The scratchy printer put out the most dreadful message she had only heard a few times. Williams ran back into the office. His tuned ears picked up a second message printing. He returned with a few photographs and plots. This was it. She had her orders. She’d fire the first shot.

“Here, Captain. This too. Should I just give it to WepsCon and let them pick?” The photographs designated the exact locations of the moving out Californian Taskforce that was going to meet the Ruhrian battlegroup to the south. Now in their firing positions just to the southeast of Kauai, she only had to designate targets and hope that the second sub had the same orders.

She picked up the ship’s phone and paused. “Actchung, Actchung, this is the Captain speaking. Battlestations, battlestations! Red Alert! Rig the vessel for silent running!” She paused as the lights dimmed, the bells rang, the engine quieted, and the crew came to attention. “I just received a message from the Imperial Navy HQ in Nevada. The Californians are pushing us and dispatching a carrier battle group that is threatening one of our Atlantic Fleet task forces. The Administration is calling this an act of war, along with a few more mobilizations and activations. The Californians are calling their Atlantic Fleet to the Pacific, and now we will be in a shooting war. We are making the first shot with our sistership not to far from here. Target, as planned before, is Pearl Harbour. This time we know where and what to strike.” There was dead quiet. She could hear the crew’s hearts beating. “We’ll be attacking Pearl Harbour in T-Minus twenty-four. This will be stressful, but after we fire everything we have, we are ditching this place and running back to Ruhr for reload. So that’s time off. We’ll be successful, we’ve drilled this many times. Let’s go for it.”

The time ticked down as the WepsCon did a series of mathematical equations and imputing in the computer. Then finally, when everything was loaded, the RNS Rhine had one hundred sixty eight targets, some were double-targets and had varied time warheads, but most were direct hit missiles. With an extraordinary range and fuel efficiency, the new 2,000lb warhead would be sure to put a dent in that battleship, believed to be the Washington, sitting in port and the second traveling battleship, yet to be identified, but the munitions would certainly knock back their destroyer and surfaced submarines located in the harbour. The time flew by.

“Captain? Five minutes!” Weapons Control Officer Lieutenant Cole said from his station. He was also watching the time fly by. “I suggest we go to firing depth, Captain.”

“Sonar, Conn. This is the Captain. Anything new?” Silen said already knowing the answer—no.

“No, Captain. We have a clear sea here.” Williams replied with enthusiasm, he obviously was content with the ability to possibly have a chance on getting out alive.

“Great. Diving officer, take us to sixty-five feet, at navigational speed. Two degrees up bubble!” The diving officer echoed her orders and the sub slowly arched upwards towards the surface. From her depth of six hundred feet, it was a slow ride up. The ship’s hull popped under the rapidly changing pressure of the great deep Pacific Ocean. Soon the Diving Officer turned around and said, “Captain, four knots at a depth of sixty-five feet. Our heading is zero-eight-seven!”

“Very good, Bill. Weapons, prepare for fire. Open doors one through twenty-four. Pre-determined firing code zero-one.” Silen ordered with authority in her tone.

“Captain, missile unlock code, please?” Cole asked. It was standard procedure.

“Silen-Five-Nine-Charlie-Foxtrot-Six-Six-Two.” She replied. Soon she heard the missile doors opening. The flooding of the water was recognizable from her experiences on a SSN.

Lieutenant Cole leaned over the weapons report bulkhead. The display of the submarine showed the submarine doors were now completely open and flooded. Now, the SVLS was sitting hot with armed warheads prepared for fire. “Captain, all tubes are opened and chambers flooded. Orders, please?” It was now time. The clock had finished ticking.

“Launch all missiles!” Silen thundered. And with that, the roar of the first few missiles launching from their cells and jettisoning after breaching the surface echoed through the vessel. Williams in sonar took off his earpieces and set them down on the bulkhead. There was a few seconds of pause between each missile launch, and by the time the entire vessel had depleted its cargo a steady stream of missiles would be already halfway to their targets traveling below estimated radar and through the rolling mountains of the Oahu island west of Pearl Harbour. The ship rocked with each launch. The actual depth display dropped from sixty-five to seventy-one. There was a lot of force in those missiles. And there were a lot of those missiles. Two vessels had launched their entire load of cruise missiles at Pearl Harbour. Now they needed to get the hell out. The recon-satellites would pick up what happens next.

“Weapons! Close all missile doors! Secure the tubes! Navigation, bring us two twelve knot. Hard to starboard! Bring us to course two-zero-three!” The ship rolled as the powerplant went active and surged the vessel forward. The doors closed momentarily and the water inside flooded out.

“Captain! All weapons secure. Missile should be reaching their targets about…..now!”

“Impressive launch, Cole! Diving officer! Bring us to depth five-two-five! Now! Let’s move people!” Hopefully they would be out of harms way by the time the Californians knew what was going on. An extraordinary amount of missiles were fired. Pearl Harbor, should it have had even a little warning, would be at least half covered in flames. The airbase, the fuel depots, the nuclear reload center, the repair dock, the battleships, the cruisers and destroyers, and the submarines were targeted. Whether or not all of the missiles hit was up to God at this point. They’d done their duty…now it was their lives that told the crews of the two missile submarines to get the hell out.

---------------------------------------
Yokosuka Harbour, Japan
---------------------------------------

Halfway across the world, in that lonely harbour of Yokosuka, the RNS Hamburg, Silen’s former command, sat beneath the surface as a jammer system attempted to hack into Californian communications, weapons, and radar to disable the vessel. With her four Mk52 ADCAP torpedoes and two heavy submerged anti-ship missiles in their forward tubes, the doors were opened and the fish swam forward. The guidance wire on the sub directed the torpedos at thirty-degree angles and allowed them to home in on the center of the ship so that once they struck, the damage would be extensive and deep in the vessel.

Now they waited for the explosion, as they were sure there would be one.

Edit #1: Fixed BBCode Error. 04-16-04 11:05PM EST

Total Attention Granted :?

(Damn Ruhr, that was long post.)

Somewhere under the Great Desert

The general looked up from the report,"Is this information correct?"

The intel officer nodded,"Yessir. Multiple agencies have confirmed it."

The general looked at the map. He pulled out a marker and marked the areas where the conflict would most likely happen. He turned to the intel officer,"Have all eyes on this. Under no circumstances are we to get involved. Keep all of our ships out of the areas where the two nations are gathering ships."

The intel officer saluted and walked off. The general looked back at the map, trying to imagine what a naval conflict between these two nations could be like.

Another officer poked his head in the door. The general looked at him with an annoyed look on his face. "Shouldn't we ask if they require help?"

The general shook his head,"If Ruhr wanted help, they would have asked. Just relay a message to the SOET, SOMI, SONF and the SOAF to stay out of the ways of both nations."

:TAG:

Points to personal, if small, continent in the North Pacific. Looks nervous.

Tag for observation on aid front.

:TAG:

Points to personal, if small, continent in the North Pacific. Looks nervous.

If you read the introduction, you'd note that no other nation is to get involved without OOC confirmation. You are not to get involved trust me.

P.S.: Aside from Ruhr being an island in the central pacific, that is the only non-RL continent/country allowed in this RP until further notice. thank you.

Sorry I could not get this posted sooner... got sidetracked by friends and family...

→\\\ Anyways before I let you, the reader continue I ask that if you have Stratovarius's "Dreamweaver", Chimaira's "Down Again" and Chimaira's "Implements Of Destruction" to listen to these songs while reading this post, if not please download them before you continue reading.

Now if you have them or have already downloaded them... arrange them on your playlist as follows:

1. Chimaira - Down Again
2. Chimaira - Implements Of Destruction
3. Stratovarius - Dreamweaver

Thanks for doing this... in my opinion these songs give this post some extra dimension. ///←

Anyways... Heeere Goes Nothing!!!



Monday, August 28, 2006
S.C.V. Iowa, Yokosuka Harbor, Japan

Capt. Jeffery G. Randall had a hell of a time sleeping, after being woken up several times in the night by his underlings over false alarms he had been awake all morning, especially since the ambassadors hadn't returned from the talks with the Ruhrians and the Japanese. All day he had sat unevenly in the bridge with a foreboding that things were about to go horribly wrong, things were going well for him in the day until someone had ran into the bridge.

Start the music

"Sir! the Japanese! they have launched torpedoes at us! there are six on their way—" by the time his sentence was finished the first, second and third torpedoes had struck the ship... but by the time the captain had left the bridge to see where the ship had been hit the fourth torpedo and the two missiles struck rocking the ship. The crew of the vessel now in utter panic had been exiting the ship by all means possible, soon there were in excess of two thousand men in the water with another thousand or so still on the vessel when the first explosion ripped through the front of the vessel between the first and second turrets. Lt. Com Johnathan D. Andrews sat in the water several feet from the ship watching the Iowa begin to list on its port side as the fires raged across the ship, as the men still on the vessel tried with futility to get off the vessel.

Hours after the Iowa had settled to the bottom of Yokosuka Harbor the remaining crew of the Iowa swam to shore and recounted their numbers... after the long and grueling task of fleeing the ship only 1,978 of 3,102 made it safely off the ship, after confirming the count Capt. Randall organized the group and began travelling south along the shores of Japan hoping to eventually find some place to radio home and get off this island.

Honolulu, Hawaii - F.S.S.C.

Captain Derrick D. Hutchinson sat at a bar facing west towards Pearl Harbor drinking mai tais, malibus, piña coladas, and kamikazes all night with his crew, for him it had been months since he had been given leave after sailing for eight months doing maneuvers in the Atlantic and Indian Oceans. It was heading on 3am in the morning when he could see small whitish-yellow specks far away racing towards his direction, it did not take long before he realized that these were missiles and after helplessly watching as a series of them strike Hickam Air Force Base and the ships docked in Pearl Harbor he stopped drinking. Minutes after the first series of missiles struck Pearl Harbor the men had ceased drinking and had started running... some driving towards Pearl.

After arriving the men realized that they were too late, the SCV Washington was completely destroyed... its superstructure being the only recognizable feature above the water... several other ships had been completely destroyed beyond repair, others sunk to the bottom of the harbor. It had been hours until the men had known that the Sovereign Federation of California and the Armed Imperial Republic of Ruhr were officially at war, must were shocked to find that a former ally had did this to them... others expected the attacks to come from the east, from the benign but belligerent Federated Menelmacari States of America. The crews of the now derelict and destroyed vessels sat around various parts of the harbor looking in disbelief at their ships, some had sank others were still damaged and burning... days had gone by and the fires that were still raging unchecked on those vessels still floating in the harbor had reached the ammunition stores... the massive explosions that ripped through the vessels throughout the rest of the week had kept most of the civilian populous around the harbor awake and wondering in awe as some of the ships had exploded and finally sank.

Fires still burned on the surface of the water, due to the massive amounts of fuel spread out during the explosions... the fires took days to extinguish, but the fires of hatred in the hearts of the crews of those vessels remained and it took little time to blacken their hearts with rage.

=Hours Later=
Greater Los Angeles, California - F.S.S.C.

Sandra sat at her desk opening a letter with her letter opener when the Sec. of the Navy John Andrews called her on the phone, the phone rang three times before she picked it up. "Sandra, its really bad news... the Ruhrians struck us around 3am in the morning... a portion of our Pacific Fleet in Pearl Harbor has been annihilated."

Sandra fell silent on the other end of the phone before speaking again "The Ruhrians... Did What?!

Sec. of the Navy John Andrews heard her scream a stream of expletives before hearing something slam into something solid pretty hard, he had no clue that she had embedded her letter opener in the oak surface of her desk. He had sat patiently listening to her until she had reasonably calmed down, drumming his fingers on his desk he asked calmly "Are you okay now"

Sandra took several deep breaths to calm herself and when she had collected herself she answered the phone... "Potentate General Sandra M. Devnostraeva speaking... And yes I am perfectly fine."

Sec. of the Navy John Andrews gave a sigh of relief "Ok, I also have some more bad news to give you... the battleship that was sent to Yokosuka Harbor was also sunk this morning, we have received radio communications from Capt. Randall of the Iowa and he has told me that 1,978 of the crew members have made it off the ship safely and are hiding along the southeastern coast of Japan... however the other 1,124 weren't so lucky... so far our casualties have come up to at least 7,500 dead from both the Iowa and the attack on Pearl Harbor and Hickam AFB."

Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Greater Los Angeles, California - F.S.S.C.

Sandra M. Devnostraeva stood before the members of Parliament in her military uniform... her face grim, her voice edgy, her hands shaking in nervousness and her eyes bloodshot from hours of drinking. After surveying the assembly before her she broke the silence. "I stand before you here today as Potentate General... yesterday in the early hours of the morning, I was the President of this nation, but that has changed." She took the pitcher of water on the table to her right and poured a glass of water and took a drink to soothe her voice. "Last night we were attacked by the Ruhrians, and we knew it was coming... the most painful thing about this is that we had ample time to prevent this from happening. Even after myself and General Xander Marx had proven to you that the Ruhrians were on their way, that they were going to attack us... after all of the ample goddamned evidence you sat and did nothing! We sat and let this happen and now we've become the victims from their first strike, Do you know that right now that we've already lost something in the neighborhood of 8,000 men and women of our military?! I cannot stress the incompetence that all of you have shown in refusing to take this seriously, in refusing to acknowledge that even though we f--ked up in the past that this should never have happened. We have been blindsided by a former ally, and you have done abso–f--king–lutely nothing to prevent it!"

Sandra sat with her hands over her face, resting her elbows on the podium, members of the assembly had heard her sobs from behind her hands and after several minutes Gen. Marx had come up the the podium and had enbraced her. After several minutes she had calmed down some she looked into the members of the assembly with an angered rage in her eyes, she wiped the tears from here eyes with a napkin smearing her eye liner slightly, after taking another drink of water she spoke with an icy wrath "As the Potentate General of this nation I am hereby suspending Parliament, for those who supported me before this f--king mistake had happened I will see you soon… as for the rest... heh."

Sandra's voice faltered and she caught herself "This is my closing statement for all of you...There hasn't been a war on our soil since we have began as a nation, and now one has been taken to our soil... by a former ally nonetheless. And we have to thank those who have wallowed in their own f--king ignorance for letting this happen, hours from now I will be meeting with my military advisors... and from there we will take the proper course. Those of you who supported me and made the motion to prevent this atrocity from happening are going to be able to come back to your jobs after this war is over, however those of you who were too consumed by your ignorance and refused to help your own f--king nation... I will be surprised if you can even hold a desk job at Office Max after this over!"

Outside the SCG Tower
KSC-TV News Reporter Adrianne Roberts stood in front of the SCG Tower wearing a black skirt and a red blouse... as soon as Sandra and her military officials stepped from the building they were immediately rushed by reporters. "Ms. President—" Sandra interrupted "That would be Potentate General... to you." Her face grim and her voice thin. Adrianne stepped back "But, you can only become the Potentate General in times of war!"

Sandra turned and gave an icy stare "Exactly."

Adrianne faced the cameraman "This is KSC-TV News Reporter Adrianne Roberts. Apparently after hours of deliberation a declaration of war has been made against the Armed Imperial Republic of Ruhr for their attacks on the Iowa in Yokosuka Harbor and for the attack on Hickam Air Force Base and the Pearl Harbor Naval Base. Ladies and Gentlemen, this is no joke... the president herself has said that we are at war. This is Adrianne Roberts with the latest news."

Tuesday, September 5, 2006
Sierra Nevada Complex, California - F.S.S.C.
Sandra sat at a large white birch table with her Defense Council. Seated at the table were Sec. of Defense Alex Fairchild, Dpty. Sec of Defense Joshua Benson, Under Sec. of Defense Maria Rasmussen, Under Sec. of Defense James Wright, Under Sec. of Defense Robert W. Drake-Sans, Sec. of the Navy John Andrews, Sec. of the Army Jack Napier, Sec. of the Air Force Stephen W. Drake-Sans, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Andrea Jackson, Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Simeon Matthews, Army Chief of Staff Marcus Cox, Chief of Naval Operations Samantha England, Air Force Chief of Staff Erica Sanderson, Commandant of the Marine Corps Trent Bauer and finally the Commander of the Unified Combat Comamnd Forces Damien Robertson. Altogether there were fifteen people seated at the table including Sandra, after the meeting had officially begun UCCF Commander Robertson stood and walked to the screen on the far wall of the room.

"Right now the Ruhrians are holed up on the island groups of the Philippines, Indonesian and the Japanese islands... our satellite imagery had picked up increased movement of military to these regions since the attack yesterday morning... right now we are grouping all remaning forces in the region and mobilizing our armed forces abroad, especially in our Middle Eastern possessions. Satellite Intelligence captured the launch of the missiles and even the model of the submarine which fired them..." UCCF Commander Robertson pointed his laser pen to a spot south-southeast of Oahu "This is where the Ruhrian submarine launched from, it then left the area quickly... we are certain that they did not want to negotiate a peaceful end to this war. So we can rule out our role as the aggerssors, they sank the battleship in Yokosuka Harbor and then later fired missiles at Pearl Harbor and Hickam Air Force Bace. Anyways, Ms. Devnostraeva here has moved us to DEFCON 1, we're officially at war with the Armed Imperial Republic of Ruhr now."

Sandra stood from her chair and smiled in the most congenial manner she then pulled her cellular phone, clipped the scrambler to it and dialed the Secretary of Domestic Affairs "By Executive Order I am ordering the consolidation of all shipyards, steel mills, aerospace manufacturers, automotive factories, and all companies dealing with military equipment... I want the designers of Boeing building me the newest generations of fighters, bombers, and stealth planes... I want every goddamned company that has any importance in our economy building new military vehicles and weapons. Got it?" After hearing the needed words she shut her phone off.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen I want to know the best move we should take against the Ruhrians, they have hit us the hardest and mainly because we refused to do nothing to stop them and I want to strike them in the same manner they struck us... I want them to know that we are going to retaliate... but not where and when. Pure reciprocity... we're going to show them the same pain and rage that they caused us." She studied a map of the Pacific Rim closely, she had then remembered something that had been clawing at the back of her mind... turning around she had a devious grin on her face. "General Marx, you have satellite photos of them building up their military, and records of their troop movements, correct?"

General Marx looked up from his papers and drew the photos and documents from his briefcase. "I have them right here." As he was handing them over, UCCF Commander Roberston grabbed the photographs and the documents from Marx's hand before they reached Sandra. Commander Roberston looked over the photographs and then the documents, Roberston dialed a lieutenant in the complex and had the film enlargened, he then put the photographs into a projector and turned the photograph so that it was right side up... looking at the first picture he turned toward the group "They're mobilizing for their second strike, the Ruhrians are going to strike from the Philippines..." he then put the second, third and fourth photos up on the projector. "The Ruhrians have also increased troop movements in and around Indonesia, this doesn't look good at all folks." putting the last few photos on the projector he looked at it closely and turned towards the group seated around the table. "Ms. Potentate General, colleagues... what we have here is a well orchestrated conspiracy. I could not have done this any better myself, if we were not fighting each other I'd congratulate the little pissant mastermind who put this together. Look here... they are mobilizing their forces in and around Japan for a strike on Alaska, and here in the Philippines and Indonesia... this is their main strike force. What they did to us in Yokosuka Harbor, Pearl Harbor and Hickam was to destroy our military capacity in the region. They did not count on our carriers and battleships being away during their strike."

Robertson turned to the Secretary of Defense. "Alexis, I mean Alex... what is our current military capacity?"

Now focusing her attention she withdrew the latest statistics for FY2005 "Commander Robertson, our current capacity is at forty-four point five percent, our entire armed forces account for ten million three-hundred and twelve-thousand five-hundred people of our population. Our military production is up thirty-five percent from last weeks forty-seven percent. In short the distribution of our active military personnel are as follows: 3,290,625 military personnel in the Sovereign Californian Army, 787,500 military personnel in the Sovereign Californian Air Force, 168,750 military personnel in the Sovereign Californian Coast Guard, 1,659,375 military personnel in the Sovereign Californian Marine Corps, 1,828,125 military personnel in the Sovereign Californian Navy. So we have a potential active military force of 7,734,375 personnel."

Sandra smiled and looked over at Alex "Thank You Alex... we're going to be sending everything we can." Sandra then turned to UCCF Cmmdr. Robertson "Where would you strike it were left up to you Damien?" Cmmdr. Robertson looked at the photographs and smiled "Well... Since the bulk of their forces are concentrated on the Philippines, I say we strike there first, divide our forces and spread out into Japan and Indonesia." Sandra nodded her head in approval... "Ok then... we strike the Philippines in five days. Got it? Five Days." Everyone seated around the table nodded in approval.

Sunday, September 10, 2006
Indian Ocean, 560 miles southeast of Yemen

Captain Eric Samson had finally got his chance to finally go to war... after so many years of pulling exercises in the Arabian Gulf he and his task force were on their way to Sydney in Australia to refuel and gather supplies after picking up everything they were to head straight to the Philippines.. He smiled knowing that Operation: Scorpion Sting was just hours off from initiation. Hours away Capt. Spradlin of the Sierra Nevada battlegroup along with the Sandra M. Devnostraeva, Los Angeles and Kodiak battlegroups were on their way along with battleships California, Nevada, East Nevada, Colorado, Oregon, New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, Kansas, Oklahoma, Arizona, Hawaii, Alaska, British Columbia, Yukon Territory and the Virgin Islands... Their final destination: The Philippines.

Bump!

On his stagparty Mr. Jones got very drunk and fondled a stripper. He was sued for ten million bucks and the wedding was off.

OOC: This post has been accepted by California ahead of time.

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Indonesia Defense Line
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It had been months since the Ruhrians in the theatre have done anything aside from defence exercises and counter-strike games. Now the troops were blistering for action. News of the first strike on California had been ultimately a morale booster for the marines on the beach and the regular army infantry in the rear. Copies of the satellite imagery of the aftermath showed black smoke lingering across the harbour and into the island of Oahu. The soldiers in the army were proud to know that those squids in the Navy could do something after all.

When the defence line was spread out and planned, the General in charge had failed to recognize an attack from the east or south, which was the direction the Californians were traveling in to attack. Satellite Reconnaissance had taken infrared pictures of a large flotilla of battleships with a few of their escorts traveling at fast pace to their destination in the West Pacific. In response to this new threat, General Stonewall had to re-deploy his marines to dig in again on the southern two quarters of islands, then warn the local civilians of an impending attack from the battleships. For the most part, shells were more of a psychological weapon than a missile, and this is what he tried to fight in his preparations.

“Yes, Mack. I’ve put the marines on the other side of the beaches…and no, I did leave some on the northern and eastern sides. OK? I’m workin’ on it!” Stonewall said with slight annoyance to his squid friend in the Indian Ocean Attack Fleet. “We’ve repositioned and re-calibrated each of the artillery batteries, but all we can hope for is for the Californians to neglect them. They might be our last-resort in an attack.” The general sighed, it was well over a normal day for him…almost reaching his twenty-seventh hour of direct commanding.

“I’m moving the carrier battle groups Vanguard, Enterprise, and Triumph to the flanks on both the north and the south,” replied Fleet Admiral Lancaster of the 1st Indian Ocean Attack Fleet. “Our goal here is to be able to provide extensive naval-air coverage for Indonesia while our supply forces are protected in the rear. I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but our hidden supply depots in the islands are currently being topped-off with everything. Hopefully that’ll give us enough to support us until the major convoying takes place. Back on track though, those fly-birds in the Air Force will be pulling a stunt in a little bit. They’ve planned for one of these attacks, apparently,” joked the Admiral.

“Yeah, I’ve gotten word. I’ll be in charge of ground-based assets, but as far as interceptors go, you’ll be playing defence.”

“Right. Let’s hope this will be able to weaken them. When my submarines get there, they’ll be able to rattle them. Our goal now is to reach the Sydney Harbour before they do, but that is really risking it.”

“Why in the hell are they traveling around Australia to attack Indonesia?” questioned Stonewall, with a little humor in his tone.

“Don’t ask me. Just like the fact they are traveling further than they need to refuel. If we can get there before they do, they’ll have to take what they’ve got in their fleet oilers for their gas-fired ships and make turns for Indonesia without. But…I don’t know about our submarine getting there in time. I’ve got a Sea Wolf class from the reserves at the closest, and he’s runnin’ hot to get there. Risky, but we need to get there.”

“All right, Lancaster. I’ll do my part on the ground. You hold them off.”

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Bomber Wing Echo
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The forty-eight Lancer Bombers of the 1st Strategic Attack Wing raced across the islands just below thirty thousand feet. Each of the planes was armed with dozens of large anti-ship missiles, actually the aerial version of the ones that were used in Pearl Harbour. Once they get a few hundred miles out, they were to launch all birds and wait for what happens next. “Colonel Mayer?” one of the flight-crew members of the lead B-1C bomber called, “Gamma BW (short for bomber-wing) is prepared to follow our lead.”

The plan was simple, Echo Wing launches all of its independent radar-guided anti-ship missiles at the incoming forces. They’d pick up on the major vessels and target them first, following up on the escort vessels. Carriers and Battleships were the primary, and because of that half of the payload of each plane, twelve missiles, were designated for major thick-hulled vessels.

Once the first wing had launched all of its missiles, it’d turn around and return to base. Because of the sheer size of the missile, the Ruhrians believed that the Californians would assume that the victim flag admiral would deploy all fighters to respond to a large group of fighters instead of a large group of missiles. At this point, every carrier would lack in interceptors and would have to rely on their CIWS to respond to a missile attack…that would come from Gamma Wing.

The second series of bombers were to sweep in low from the north, much farther away from the echo-bomber wing’s launch position as to make it very difficult for any interceptors still with missiles to make it to the next firing position. Once those missiles were launched, the fleet would be trapped inside a massive anti-ship missile attack from what was left from Echo Wing and the closer and much larger missile strike from Gamma.

It all looked good on paper. The question, of course, was would this anti-capitol ship tactic work?

“Echo to Gamma, Echo to Gamma. Mayer to Wolfhound, over.” He awaited his reply, knowing it would come soon. The buzz on the closed-frequency to Wolfhound gave the pilot a headache until the response chimed in…

“This is Wolfhound, we are ten-minutes from strike zone.” The deep, coarse voice responded.

“Roger, Wolfhound. Echo Wing beginning missile run now.” He ordered the radar/communications/navigations officer to switch the frequencies.

“All bombers, attack plan K. Repeat—all bombers, attack plan K. Bomb bays open!” The two bomb bays of each of the B-1Cs opened rapidly. Despite the miles of wiring in the sleek jet, he could still hear the buzz from the hydraulics. “All bombers, report in.”

After each squadron reported to their respective leaders, the four squadron leaders checked in rather quickly. “All bombers operational, sir. All bay doors are opened.”

“Open fire!” The colonel ordered. Each bomb bay was loaded with twelve two thousand pound bombs. They’d race to their targets at a very good one thousand five hundred miles per hour, if needed, but for the first leg it would activate their individual jammers and radars to alert the Californian fleet of a massive incoming fighter formation. With hope, this would work well enough. After all, Echo’s missiles were not the primary attack units, those were Gamma’s missiles that would fire much closer and travel much faster than the others.

“Missiles are away, Colonel!”

“Mayer to Echo Bombing Wing, launch successful, we are RTB,” which was short for returning to base. “Good job, Echo.”

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RNS Hatteras Offensive
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The carrier and its escorts had rendezvous with its sister ships in the Arctic Fleet at about five hundred miles off of the Aleutian Islands. The group had a specific task, and the electronics divisions on each of the vessels had began practicing runs and designating targets. The new reconnaissance satellite had taken plenty of pictures of their fleet’s preparedness, and no doubt they were getting ready to move. It was time to begin the attack.

The Hatteras Attack Squadron was composed of three carriers, three battleships, two heavy cruisers and roughly fourty escorts including submarines that were positioned off Kodiak and the bay’s entrance. The battleships were forward with their designated escorts, with their guns facing the radar installations and shore defence emplacements. The ships’ guns were very accurate, but accuracy wasn’t much of a problem with the enormous twenty-inch high explosive, armour-penetrating shell. Admiral Washington had ordered the forward heavies to begin bombarding the anti-aircraft systems with missiles and shells. It was very important that these were taken out; the strike squadrons needed both a safe entrance and exit.

It was time, the operation had already commenced in the Indonesian theatre, and both wings had fired their missiles at the oncoming attack fleet. There was now only an issue of rendering Anchorage useless to prevent a northern-supply line from Alaska.

The Hatteras and the Mclaren had launched their strike wings and initial interceptors. For the seventy-two F/A-18F strikers, a total of fourty-eight F-14E Tomcats had been launched to clear a path. The submarine banks in Anchorage were obviously busy loading and preparing their wolf packs, which needed to be disabled. The port stationed several heavies, but obviously the major forces were moving in from the Middle East. The key targets were the re-supply, weapons, caches, airstrips, and submarine docks.

The guns on the battleships opened up early, but not to worry. The shells shot through the sky with great precision and landed in at or relatively close to their targets. The guns had begun the systematic bombardment of Kodiak Island’s military systems, just before the missile strikes on the Anti-Aircraft stations. Onboard the RNS Landeshwert, the Commodore chose an MLRS battery fire on the island’s airbase. It was an interesting tactic, but the thousands of grenade-sized bomblets would cause hell and certainly severely damage the airstrip.

Good, now that does it for those enemy jets…now for the pilots to do their duty, Commodore Ross thought as he looked at the theatre’s active battle map in the ships CIC—Combat Information Center. He watched as the interceptors broke up into many smaller groups to deal with the individual threats. The escorts fired their air-to-air missiles at the fighters already in the sky. The only ones that would certainly know about the incoming attack would be the pilots stationed in or around Anchorage that were scrambled. This meant they would certainly be a lot of them, and the Californian pilots were trained quite a bit better than the Ruhrians had anticipated.

The early warning must have been exactly that—early warning. Three squadrons of assorted fighters from F-15 Eagles to F-16 Falcons ran towards the interceptors at nearly full throttle. It was a stupid move, they wasted quite a bit of gas, but it was necessary. The Ruhrian Aerial Warning And Control System (AWACs) picked up the fighters and had already transmitted tactical suggestions—which were ultimately orders to survive—to the interceptor pilots in the Tomcats.

“Ping, Beaver, pair up on my seven, let’s go on the left. Falcon-2 (The Call Sign of the E-3C AWACS), where are they?” The Squadron Leader of VF-155 requested.

“Enemy is bearing zero-four-two, on your two. Distance 40 miles, speed eight hundred knots. Altitude of ten-thousa---Whoa! Their radars just went hot!” The faceless voice on the radio checked his schematic, right now the force was nearing the outskirts of Anchorage. “We’ve got SAM lighting up at the Naval Station! It’s Hot! Evasive maneuvers!”

The crew on the E-3 didn’t really need to say that, Beaver and his weapons officer, Whiskey, were very aware of the threat thanks to that annoying buzzer that told them their life was on the verge…

“Whiskey, which way is it? Should we take it out first?” The F-14 rolled to the right as it drove to the deck and accelerated. The naval base was just in view now, even in gun range. Theoretically, the cannon on Beaver’s fighter could penetrate the thin-armour on these escorts parked in the bay, but he needed that ammunition. It was a frigate, and it was definitely what was making noise and rattling its saber.

“You’re call, Beaver!” Whiskey replied, his voice confident as usual. “Let’s get out of here before that thing fires though!”

“Switching to guns!” Whiskey pushed a little button forward, disarming the missiles and switching the targeting retinal. He muttered aloud, “leveling out…decreasing speed…and…” The retinal turned from green to red, the frigate was targeted and now within range. The frigate was now rapidly moving closer to the plane, or so it seemed. He pulled the trigger, yellow streaks flowed through the nose, or so it seemed, and towards the frigate. The bullets tore into the superstructure first, then eventually leveled out towards the front of the boat. “Target hit! Moving out!” Smoke rose from the vessel…of course it would be on fire, I must’ve shot at least a hundred bullets into the side of it!

* * *

The F-14s were dealing with the odd assorted fighters that came out of the airbase in nearby Anchorage. With the road clear, relatively, the Super Hornets had their chance. Often mistaken as an interceptor/fighter, the primary mission of the Hornet was to strike, and strike hard. The massive bombs being carried underneath carried the many high explosives that would render Anchorage useless.

“Green Group prepared for attack. Requesting clearance, Falcon-2.” The Captain leading the group asked the E-3 Sentry.

A different faceless voice responded this time, the thirty men onboard the AWACs were all faceless while in-flight, but still they did their job to the best of their ability…and the pilots they were leading appreciated this. “Falcon-2 to Green Group, permission to begin bombing run granted. Good luck Green Group. Turn to your 11 o’clock and come in from the west. Do not—repeat—do not engage the city of Anchorage.”

“Roger, Falcon-2! Green Group, follow my lead!” The F/A-18 broke to the left and rolled towards the north. The units followed in turn and they began the approach on the naval base. According to the briefing, there were multiple targets. It wasn’t only about the ships, in fact those were the last targets. The Ruhrians planned on a war of attrition, but their primary targets were the facilities the Californians were capable of restocking, refueling, and repairing. As long as they were capable of doing these things, they were capable of putting up a full-scale war. The Airfield, the two weapons stores, the fuel depot, and the repair facilities.

Green Group was split into four squadrons, each one was responsible for attacking each of the designated primaries, but each individual plane spared one bomb for the submarine pen and surface vessels.

Captain McGregor, also known as Left Nut, was leading the attack. He angled down a bit and then gently pressed the rudder directing the plane to its left. The result was a graceful dive into the bay, his target dead ahead of him. The Refueling dock and store would certainly create a massive explosion, and certainly would cause some excess damage. A small surface vessel sat next to it. He mindlessly leveled out and flipped a switch arming the massive bomb on his starboard wing. With another flick of a switch, it fell into the base. “Green Group, engage!”

The rest of the fighters attacked their targets, with each plane coming around once more to target the surface ships and what was essentially left to bomb. Several of the submarines were tied up alongside each other, and several pilots went for double kills with their bombs…targeting in between them and aiming for luck. Some worked, some didn’t. All that McGregor could tell was that the base was thoroughly ablaze in the morning sky. Fire rose from the docks, the buildings, and the ships. Every now and then a fighter would fall from the sky. It was either a Ruhrian one, or a Californian one. Not many Californian ones were left, and the Tomcat interceptors took a beating in the raging air battle. Some were lost to the anti-air missiles on the ships, some were lost to the accurate hands of the pilots opposing them.

While the outcome was surely going to be a Ruhrian victory, the fact of the matter was that since lives were lost there was no victory. McGregor lead his fighter back to the carrier after staying on scene for several more minutes. He was running low on fuel, the sun now well into the sky. The pilot noticed a small rattling in the throttle, especially in the rudders. He turned around to check his stabilizers, his eyes opened widely. The CIWS on the ships must have fired a few dozen bullets into his wings…there was essentially nothing left of them. It was a miracle he stayed in flight this lo---

* * *

Whiskey saw it first, something out of the Kodiak Island’s hills. A stream of jet-trail rose to the sky like a bottle-rocket. It was quick, loud, and typically straight. It must have been a hand-held SAM. “Jesus! Did you see that?”

“What?” Called Beaver.

“Over there! Look!” He looked up just in time, the fireball fell from the cloud and onto the beach. It looked like an F/A-18 Hornet’s chassis, but any mangled wreck like that is hard to identify. Whatever it was, it tore the plane to pieces. Whiskey looked at the scene intently, but there was no parachute anywhere to be found. It was definitely a kill for whoever was lucky on the ground.

“God dammit!” Whiskey yelled. There was no warning! The poor bastard took it probably without even thinking about the possibility of one. Regardless, the flight continued operations over the theatre until the enemy could be suppressed. The battleship began to open fire on the coastal hills where the missile came from.

Bump for mass viewing...

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Greater Los Angeles, California, C.S.D.S.F.
Colonel Xander Marx woke up at six in the morning with the phone on his night table ringing incessantly, sitting up out of bed he put the receiver to his ear "Colonel Xander Marx here, its six in the morning and I haven't had much sleep so this better be f×××ing good!" What the person on the opposite end of the receiver had to tell him wasn't something he wanted to hear at this hour of the morning... Xander's stomach began to knot with the news that was being told to him, by the time the call was finished it was well into the morning and he didn't feel anything like going to sleep now.

Getting out of bed, he went to the bathroom and took a short shower before changing into his dress uniform and heading to the SCG Tower downtown to deliver the terrible news to the President.

Hours Later

Sandra was sitting at her desk with a glass of watered down Canadian Mist and Coca-Cola leaving a pool of water on the desk around the base of the glass when Xander walked into her office, she looked up and gave a faint smile as he took a seat in front of her. She now gave him her full attention, considering when he usually came into her office he usually stood and asked to be seated before delivering the news. So seeing Xander like this she knew the news weren't going to be too good, with a mirthless smile she answered "The war is going badly I assume?". Xander gave a concentrated look for a second and told her "Just four days ago the Ruhrians attacked Anchorage and Elmendorf Air Force Base... there has been a significant loss of life and the civilian death toll around the base is climbing by the hour. Our naval base there has been heavily attacked and most of our vessels have had to return to Los Angeles and other Pacific dry-docks to be repaired." Upon hearing this Sandra stood from her seat, walked around behind her chair and opened the glass door leading outside to the balcony, putting her hands on the railing and shifting her weight to her arms she stood looking out into the Pacific Ocean and the glimmering sunset thousands of miles off in the distance. Turning to look at Xander she smiled "You know... I... We know that the Ruhrians are only acting in self-defense, but it gave them no right to say the things they did about me, my nation and then go on and threaten me over it. Xander, I want you to contact everyone you can... I want the entire Pacific Fleet sent out there and want three-hundred and fifty thousand Marines and two-hundred thousand Army en route to the Phoenix Islands by Saturday... the Ruhrians have brought this to my doorstep, now its our turn to take it to theirs."

More To Come Soon