NationStates Jolt Archive

Alexey Zvarinsky pushed a tendril of uncombed hair out of his eyes as he rushed into the Council Chamber. The Council sat around the big table, some looking even more disheveled than he did, watching the pictures on the big screen.

Alexey slid into a chair next to Valkov, and he gestured for him to lean closer.

He spoke softly, so as not to disturb the other's concentration. "It started about two hours ago," he said. "At first, we didn't know what was happening, and then, it was very clear. The fascists have now made their move, putting them in a win-win situation. We can't win without military force, and that's what they want us to do. We can not stand for pacifism anymore."

Alexey looked at the real-time satellite images on the screen. Wispy clouds obscured part of Novaya Zemlya, but in the parts they could see, fighting was everywhere. Rebels of all kinds moved through the alleys between buildings, firing, maneuvering, trying to stay out of the line of fire. Several structures had already been destroyed, and dozens damaged. The revolution has begun.

Valkov shook his head, "It couldn't have happened at a worse time. The new free market economy is nearly established completely. This rebellion will just knock it down again."

Alexey hesitated, and for a brief moment he looked pain-stricken. Torn. He stood up and went to the back of the room quietly. "..You. You have my permission. Declare martial law, repeal the pacifist policy, and open the skies for our airforce. Valkov.."

"Dah."

"Never, never, never believe any war will be smooth and easy. War is a series of catastrophes that results in a victory, and the only fast way of ending it, is losing."

*drags himself into the forums to #tag#*

Nikolai Zaitsev scrambled to his feet and crabbed along the side of the defense post and around the corner behind it. The light combat unit rolled past no more than a yard away.

Another explosive near-miss sent him scurrying away from the fortification. Even damaged as it was, it was a prime target. He staggered across open ground, trying to keep out of the way of the circling combat units, but they seemed to be everywhere.

A missile flew over his head and exploded into the military airbase, then another, and another. The rebels were moving deeper into the base, so the safest place for him seemed to be away from it. He started getting lightheaded, and dark spots crept into his vision. He was bleeding from a shrapnel lodged into his chest. It was getting difficult to walk, and his concentration was fading. He just wanted to lie down and sleep.

He let his eyes close for a moment, and when he opened them, a vehicle had rolled up a few yards in front of him and pulled to a stop. Puzzled, he looked up at the humvee. For a moment, he thought it must be a rebel vehicle, but the insignia clearly stated the country's standing army. The driver's door opened and a figure wearing an old Soviet Union soldier uniform waved him inside.

Nikolai tried entering the vehicle, then just collapsed into a heap. The figure reached down and grabbed on the shoulder of his suit, and managed to drag him inside.

The doors slammed shut and the vehicle made a fast turn and started bouncing across the urban landscape full tilt. He lay on his back, gasping for breath. Behind him, some lights turned green, and he tried to remember what that meant but instead fell asleep.

The Foreign Ministry and the Joint Chiefs watched the developments in Zvarinograd with interest, debating whether or not to offer support for either side. The rebels appears to be better armed, but intel had reported that the loyalists had a keen edge in air power, but they didn't know if it'd see use. The decision was a delicate one, and the debate went long into the night.

Glorified tag of d00m!

Allanean Government Announcement

Every man has the right to be protected by his government and, futhermore, to keep and bear arms in his own defense and his commuinity

Furthermore, Allanea has a large amount of mothballed Liberator class fighter aircraft.

We will, for a starter, send 250 of these aircraft, and 4000 DART man-portable single-use missile launchers to the Zvarini rebels. If it is true they also support not only the government's, but also the private right to arms, we will send more. These are a gift regardless. :wink:

*Tag*

#tagged...

[Tag and Telegram Zvarinograd.]

[Note: Do we actually know about this?]

TAG, *see above the Iuthia's remark. Do we know about this?*

#TAGGED#

As the truck bounced its way around the back side of a building, where it would be shielded from any fire, he wondered again if he should really be going along with this plan. Actually, he had no idea what the plan was, he knew only the explicit instructions the government had given the military, and he'd followed them to the letter.

Alexey's clandestine messages had encouraged him to cooperate. Alexey seemed to think that the rebels were stronger than they really were. He spotted a suited figure that had to be the frontline commander standing at the building's base in a shadow — a small setback, like a cave in its vast silver cliff.

He braked the truck to a sliding stop that threw him forward against his straps. He could see the commander smiling behind his visor. "I really didn't think you'd do it. You aren't quite the weakling you make yourself out to be."

"When do we attack?"

"In a few minutes, better start establishing that realtime communications links with Alexey."

#-#-#

Alarmed by the ease with which the raid had penetrated their defenses, the country had been given a new priority, and its splintered political factions had aligned behind one thing and one thing only: a massive military buildup. They would have their airbases back, and they will do everything to eradicate the very last trace of the rebels in the country.

Alexey slumped, chin propped in his hand. If this kept up, neither side would win. Too many resources would be squandered on weapons, too much destroyed in battle. Neither government would be established or restored, and the country will collapse. He had to keep the lid on this war, keep things from falling completely apart after the most vital work for survival had been completed.

"Where is our militia's armor division?"

The snow was gusting down the slope in that direction, and at first he didn't see it. Then he started to pick up a few edges and managed to build up a picture in his mind. He blinked to be sure his eyes weren't fooling him. It was a row of armored combat vehicles, heavily modified T-90 tanks if he wasn't mistaken. In place of the normal colors and bare metal, it had been painted in a mottled gray and white camouflage pattern, making it very difficult to see in the eternally snowy landscape.

Valkov nodded, his face projected on a screen in front of Alexey. "Cobbled together from bits of wreck and rebel tanks we recovered from the battlefield near the old mining outpost. It's not our only combat-capable vehicles, but it's our best."

"I'm impressed, that you have it anyway, but I don't know what you expect to do with it. It's certainly no match for the rebel's forces out in the field if that's what you have in mind."

"Agreed, if we were planning a full-scale attack to cause extensive damage. But a well-planned, well-targeted offensive to counter their blitzkrieg might have a chance." She pointed out the front. "Look, there."

Again, he didn't see anything at first. Then he made out irregular, shifting shapes, like rippling hills. It took him a while to realize that he was looking at a huge roof made out of camouflage netting. He could just make out a row of parked vehicles and a single structure carefully painted in camouflage like the armor division.

"We're very proud of the specialized armor," she said. "It reflects radar just like open ground, and has active thermal compensation to fool infrared. Believe it or not, the armor was tougher to come by than the command center."

He leaned down to look up at the command center as the car where the communications link was rolled around it. "It's stripped inside, but all we really needed was a building with independent power generation and life support. It's much better than our first base, though."

As the screen's view passed the row of vehicles, Alexey could see they had all been modified, crudely, and probably at a huge cost in labor. Weapons and armor plate had been welded on all over them, machine guns, along with a stock of supplies, taken from the battlefield, seemed to be a favorite improvised installment, though a bus had what appeared to be part of a tank turret grafted onto itself.

Looking back at a window on his bunker, he began to wonder who really was the underdog, and he began to review his tactics.

#-#-#

"Ambush!"

He watched the approaching blips on his targeting scanner. Too many. There was only supposed to be a few tanks. Were they planning to attack him with unarmed vehicles? Ramming? It was unthinkable.

Suddenly, rocket propelled grenades were coming from everywhere. These weren't combat vehicles. Well, never underestimate the human ability to improvise. The government had been rewriting the rules from the beginning. He felt stupid not to have anticipated in combat, the government was smart, they thought like sly foxes. The first defense force was only a diversion.

"They're flanking us! We just lost our artillery support!"

He commanded the crew to swing the tank out onto the plaza floor to give himself more room to maneuver and less chance of being boxed in. Armed or not, some of these vehicles were probably twice as fast as he was. A shell cut through the blowing snow and an explosive bang told him he'd been hit.

Individually, the hits were nothing, but collectively, they were taking the rebels apart, and the assault groups couldn't get away. He looked for cover, but the militia was everywhere.

Only then, the rebels had realized, the battle had truly begun.

OOC: I'd like to support the fascist rebels (just how my nation operates, so by any chance, would you be roleplaying the fascist uprising as well, and that I could possibly declare war in their aid, or would you just ignore this?), so aye... yea or nay?

EDIT: By establishing what I mean on roleplaying those fascists, are we talking like the first person setting up of elaborate power structure within them and controlling individual forces paralleling real military?

OOC:
Ehh. Probably but, the emphasis of the rebellion is not fascism, rather whether the country should be armed with a proper military force or not.

OOC: Zvarinograd, are you ignoring my previous post?

OOC: essh not much help for you huh zvar? Ah well have to change that.

IC: CP has seen these rebellious powers manifest themselves in Zvarinograd, and wishes to help the present government in anyway possible. A Task for of some 10,000 men (so 5 batallions) and an armoured corps, code name:
Task force Echo
Is entirely at your disposal.

We hope that our help will swing this rebellion back into your favour.

OOC:
First, please keep the OOC posts to a minimum.

Second, Allanea, just wait for it. As of now I'll roleplay the rebels and government in intervals. The rebels will get their turn to respond. Alright?

Third, can we have posts with more than one paragraph? No offense.

IC:

Mortimer didn't know what to do. He was helpless against the armor of the big vehicle. So he did the only thing he could. He stood in the middle of the road and held out his hands: "Stop!"

To his surprise, it did stop, long enough for the muzzles of the twin-barreled tank turret grafted onto it to train directly on him. So close was he to the bus that the two weapons had him in a deadly cross-fire. He looked back. A cart was stuck in loose debris, its wheels spinning. He could see two boys hiding and shivering, eyes wide looking at the heavily modified bus.

The behemoth, which could have just crushed Mortimer Nashivoshnik flat, annihilated him with two explosive shells, killed him any of a hundred ways, began to back away. The wheels churned as it turned away and make it's way through the bloodbath.

#-#-#

A strike on the rebel base in Arkenskaya was an attractive idea, and one he might be able to sell the Council on. Unfortunately, he couldn't dismiss the possibility that it was a very risky move. He thought of their own Outpost Alpha, equally vulnerable, in its own way, to attack. There were questions to be asked, but he couldn't risk telling Valkov anything he didn't already know.

"Valkov, are you aware of any unusual military buildup in Novaya Zemlya, signs of an impending attack, perhaps at long range?"

He thought for a moment before answering. "It's hard to tell from the constant jamming the rebels have been setting up frequently, but there has been increased rebel armor assaults. It could fit what you're telling me."

"Do you think you could give me some estimates on the strength of their forces?"

"Yeah, give or take ten percent."

"I hope that will be close enough."


#-#-#

The plan had been a hard sell to the Council, but Alexey pointed out that an attack on Outpost Alpha would have to pass both the frontlines and the command center.

"They'll need every unit they have to defend and so won't be able to send reinforcements to the outpost. We should be able to hit them fast and hard, capture enough vehicles and artillery pieces so that we can defend the outpost, and still provide support to the frontlines. Anything that escapes will still have to make its way home past our other forces, and we can mop them up then."

Despite the danger to Outpost Alpha, they had finally agreed.

Covert message to the ships carrying the weapons

Due to changes in Zvarinograd govrnment policy, you are immediately ordered to divert your shipments to aid the Zvarinograd government.

Official statement of the Allanean government

Due to the fact that the rebels have proven, by their actions, that they seek not to promote civil rights for their people, but rather the creation of a fascist regime under their own rule, we decided to cease all support for the rebels.

All shipments will cease from this date onwards.

OOC// Can I join in? Unsure what side as of yet. As this is a good RP ill try do at least 3 paragraphs each time.
FYI: Bad grammer in speech for accent

Ali-Wong peeked out of the transport aircraft pensively.
What would happen if I fell out of- He closed his eyes and looked away. He didn't want to think about that. He sat back down in his seat, and like the rest of the platoon he checked his friend, Ah Kwan, 'chute several times, and then they checked his. The whole unit was loaded up with equipment, AKM's, macro-binoculars, smoke grenades and all they would need for a daylight drop into foreign held territory. They had supplies for up to and including four days in Zvarino climates - if they didnt find something after that they would surely die.

The green light flashed once, twice, thrice.
"GOGOGO" The jumpers prepared their chutes, and with deep sigh's and some praying they jumped out of the aircraft, and at the appropriate height activating the parachute.

"Comrade Ali-Wong! Over here!!" The blizzard was slowing down the whole unit, and the only way to communicate was through radio.
"Major General Di-A-Zon!"
"Comrade, over this way! The survivors have grouped together on the hill yonder, come and I lead you."
As Ali-Wong arrived he found around half the company, milling around nearby a fire that everyone struggled to keep alight.
"Ali-Wong? You seE? anyone ffrom your or other unit?"
"No Major General"
Around the snowy "hill" were gathered about eighty men - every so often individuals trickled in to the camp.

OOC:
Rebels' turn.

For those who are asking. Yes, the rebels are well organized and armed because they are originally a splinter group from the country's military that protested the pacifist policy.

That and I want to express my knowledge of tactics into something worthwhile.

IC:

She had converted one of the embassies into makeshift quarters, the better to be close to her work. It had finally occurred to her that she never reached home in anything less than a state of full exhaustion, and rarely left in much better shape the next morning. She'd moved in a bunk, a cabinet to store her clothes and a few personal things.

We underestimated Alexey's prowess in tactics and strategy. That will not happen again.

She had waited out the battle at a safe distance in a makeshift bunker. She'd insisted that the assault group remain behind this time. This was her plan, and her responsibility. She wasn't going to send people to unnecessary deaths this time.

Waiting with her was a truck loaded with Grenadiers, the rebel's elite volunteer assault squad, rare soldiers in a largely mechanized war.

Their leader was 'Mladshiy Leitenant' Eufemie Chevaka Anikieva, a stern, square-faced young woman, with an authority beyond her years. She appeared on her communication screen. "Commander, we'd like you to hold back while we go in and rescue the isolated soldiers. We still have to sort out the prisoners from the guards."

She smiled grimly. "You've got ten minutes, Mladshiy Leitenant. Just don't shoot him by mistake" The soldier flinched a little at having her authority challenged but deferred. "As you wish, commader. We'll be looking for the field commander as you requested." She watched as the truck rolled down the hill and weaved its way past the remaining fighting.

To: Leadership of Zvarinograd
From: Central Command, Iuthia Prima, Iuthia
Subject: Assistance Required?
Message:

Noble Allies,

We have recently caught wind of the serious situation arising in across your nation and around the vacinity of our embassy, which is sending reports of a organised rebellion within your nation.

Due to Zvarinograd's strong pacifist policy we are very concerned about the welfare of your people and your nation on the whole as these Rebels seem to be well organised and prepared for this action, as reckognised by the speed of which this is all happening at.

In recognition to your nations stance on it's own military forces and our strong alliance with your ideal nation we would like to offer our military support in quelling this rebellion and aiding your citizens the best we can.

Currently we are already mobilising forces in preparation for this offer, forces we feel will offer your people the best forms of assistance during this time of need.

We have begun mobilisation of the Ypres Military Division and as of today all leave is cancelled, however we understand that it is important to keep your nation from being damaged any further, as such we are only mobilising this Division for the use of combating the rebellion... to much assistance would be more of a hinderance then a boon.

We have also begun mobilising small forces for specific roles, such as a small Battalion of Iuthia Peacekeepers in order to assist keeping the peace in area currently uneffected by the rebellion or areas in which the rebellion has been pacified. We also have a small Battalion of Black Viper Specialists (Iuthia's elite force, specialising in differing subjects depending on the soldiers aptitude) who will be intructed to deal with more specialised areas of the conflict such as anti-terrorism.

In all cases our men will be under the your own command structure and have been instructed as such in order to allow your nation to use them as you see fit, we feel that it would be more efficient this way due to your leaders better intel regarding the situation... we doubt that our people will be as well informed nor as up to date.

We hope you have a use for these men and women.

Thanks,

http://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/iuthia.jpg

Lord General deGritz, leader of the Iuthian people.
Urbanites (http://www.nationstates.net/cgi-bin/index.cgi/page=display_region/region=Urbanites)

Apply for an Embassy in Iuthia (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=127023&postdays=0&postorder=asc&start=0)
OOC Information on Iuthia (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=109898&highlight=)

The armored car was much faster and more maneuverable than the tanks that roamed the streets. Valkov used that to its best advantage, slipping close to enemy units when they were otherwise occupied, using buildings and wreckage as cover. He was able to reach deep into enemy territory, bypassing the rebel frontlines by half a kilometer, heading for the rebel base, where he'd be most likely to be able to lead an assault from if the counteroffensive breaks up. He didn't trust that the rebels could anticipate him being in their own territory, and had used the momentary chaos to his advantage as well.

#-#-#

Eufemie removed the helmet of her combat suit and moved carefully into the corridor. It was dark. Red emergency lights glowed at the end of the hall, and sparks issued from a collapsed ceiling panel. The building seemed to have taken some hits that she hadn't seen from outside.

She shouldered the rifle and climbed a ladder to the main level. The power was out there, but at least all the emergency lighting seemed to be working. She wasn't familiar with the layout of the building, but she was able to find signs that led her to the commander's quarters as described by reconnaisance.

Occasionally she would hear voices in the distance, or running footsteps, but the building seemed to be already deserted. The quarters door was jammed, and she had to pry it open enough to get through.

The room was largely dark, but emergency backups had kept the computers and some of the panels alive. Suddenly, she heard a noise in the corner.

She jumped to her feet and raised the rifle. "Come out with your hands up!"

A lone figure rose slowly from behind a table, his hands in the air. "Don't shoot! Don't shoot! I'm a political prisoner here. You have to help me!" She stepped closer until she could see the man's face. He was large, muscular, with a handlebar mustache. He smiled broadly. "I am glad to see you, my friend, even if the pleasure is entirely unexpected." He turned one raised hand into a loose fist and punched it weakly toward the ceiling. "Victory to the Militarist Zvarinograd!"

"I'm looking for a man named Dr. Sergei Valkov."

The man's eyes widened with surprise. "The enemy field commander? I know the man! He was here, but I have not seen him since the counteroffensive started." Without lowering his arms, he pointed toward the console she'd been working on. "They make me clean up here. I know how things work. If you can activate that console, I think I can find his current location."

*Slips in a Tag*

Two rebel officers were monitoring the northern rebel base from a makeshift command room when the radio crackled. "Watch to command, we have an incoming, one kilometer out moving along the base of the west wall."

One of the rebels switched the radio's transmitter to its lowest power setting and set a scramble. "How many, watch?"

"Just one, but it looks like a heavy combat unit."

"Frag. Command to nest, the alarm is sounded. Deal with the incoming, now."

Outside, tanks swung completely around the central command building and stopped just under the netting. A small swarm of soldiers wearing thick trenchcoats emerged from the outpost, holding rifles.

#-#-#

Valkov watched as the various vehicles, led by a tank, roll out quickly on the wide road. The armored car he was in took up a distant rear position, having little armor and combat capability. He didn't think that would prevent the rebels from blasting them though, unless of course, Alexey's assessment of the situation was accurate, and he didn't want to think about that.

Moment of truth. Tanks swept along the base's flank and prepared to move under command. They wouldn't be able to cut through the enemy, but they were only to move the base's defense force into an vunerable position while the main group assaults the outpost from the west.

Time to let loose.

"Attack!"

#-#-#

Valkov glanced at a screen. The defense force was in chaos, boxed in, explosions flashing across the base like a carpet of fire. Once he reached a safe distance, he stopped to watch the show.

Somebody else was watching it too. "I'm going to kill you."

The rebel commander sat motionless, inert, deep within the bunker in the central base, but she looked at the ensuing chaos on the screen in front of her through narrow, bloodshot eyes, projecting a malevolence that scared off a few rebels nearby. "I will kill you, Alexey, and I will pull your innards out and I will personally burn them."

Valkov licked his dry lips and turned back to the battle. Axen was mopping up, but this was far from over. He thought of the message Alexey had given him so long ago, with confidential information he said could be used against rebels.

It was time to read it. If it wasn't already too late.

The paradropper company listened eagerly to their CIC, Di-A-Zon, mainly because they wanted to hear the situation, but also, privately each soldier wanted to get out of the cold back to their warm oriental homes. Of course, nobody would dare admit it, because if they did then everyone else would, and morale would drop massively.
Alright soldier's, the situation is pretty grim. Almost half of us dropped in the right position , and I havent had a sign or a clue of the the rest. For what I know, they could have died in the snow. I'm not going to sugarcoat it -I dont think they are coming back. I managed to find one or two supply crates, but that will only last us an extra day maybe. We are gonna have to get to Voronezh soon and meet this rebel person, or I think we won't be coming back

One day later
The soldiers had nearly stopped their trek through the morale-dropping blizzard, nearly forgetting about their frozen comrades. They reached the outskirts of the city of Valkonezh, and relieved, they slipped in the front entrance, urban and snow fatigues blending in with the dull destroyed part of the city. (OOC: frfom what you told me on mIRC Voronezh is the right city).
alright troopers, take five. We are here. Now lets go find this the Zvarino rebels and offer our assistance

OOC:
First, It's Valkonezh, not Voronezh. Voronezh is a city in Russia. You unwittingly just said you landed in Russia. You confused the two, didn't you?

Second, the rebel commander is not Alexey. Alexey is the head of the government. The rebel commander does not have a name, yet.

Third, I think I need a summary of the war for everyone to realize what's going on.

List of events:

Rebels subvert the entire town of Arkenskaya.

Rebels attack the capital city, Valkonezh.

The government declares martial law and repeals the pacifist clause.

Rebels push in deep within the Parliament square with a parallel attack on the defense force.

Alexey (and the government) anticipated the attack and sent his (their) strategic reserves to flank the overstretched lines of the assault group.

Military surrounds the rebel assault group.

Rebels raid the military's lines and rescue captured soldiers (and prisoners of war).

Military attacks the nearest rebel base.

Even though relations between our two countries have grown more distant of late, we of the Dominion still hold the people of Zvarinograd in the highest possible regard. Prime Minister Zvarinsky , we once stood as friends of your nation in our early days, and we would be honoured to do so again in your time of need. As of this moment, we are calling up the 1st Dominion Airborne Regiment, and the 12th Armoured Division, as well as the 13th and 21st Artillery, and the 22nd Infantry. Should you require it, the armed might of the Dominion will be brought into play to preserve your government.

Rt. Hon. Scott Haley
Prime Minister
Dominion of Kotterdam

OOC// Updated, and yes I got them confused. Im still helping the rebels. Id do a proper post but this is at school. Sorry Ren. Oh yeah, and this is what 33rd Paratrooper company looks like:

OOC:
Hogsweat. Please. I understand you're trying hard to roleplay, but could you minimize the OOC posts and images? Especially the images, please edit that one out now. None of us here appreciate it. Thanks.

Kotterdam. Alexey Zvarinsky's the Prime Minister (As of Knootian relations, in the thread "From Russia with Love", Zvarinograd is in transition from communism to a democratic capitalist paradise. Alexey Zvarinsky is elected as the Prime Minister of the parliament democracy.) He is also the Commander in Chief of the country's temporary militia/military. Dr. Sergei Valkov is an aide of Alexey, who is currently enlisted in the militia as a field marshal/commander.

Zvarinograd, the icy desert

Way down, beneath the (admittedly small) mountains, perhaps thirty kilometers from the next city, covered by thick layers of rock and stone, followed by anti- radiation shielding, armour, and various systems to secure the possible escape of dangerous biochemical substances, a laboratory, or rather, some mixture of an industrial complex and a laboratory, lies, with a few people and a lot of mindless drones working.

The doors are shut, as usual, and Prof. Dr. Frank E. Stein is seemingly busy, coordinating the EM charges in his little apparature the size of a football field.

In the nearby rooms, occasional cries can be heard, apparently, the Zvarinograders will never learn that it is dangerous to go out... in this climate.

"They could at least be thankful that we rescued them, giving them a chance to sacrifice their lives in the name of science." Prof. Dr. Frank muttered. "Now make him shut the hell up!"

The experiments continue, may it be military grade lasers, genetically engineered diseases or a way to open bottles without scratching the glass.

The occasional scream can be heard, occasionally mixed with groans of pleasure, as if someone took actual pleasure in tortur... experimenting the 'objects'.

And it was true, as she stepped out of one door, quickly evading the tactical ion gun mounted in front of it... Just in case Zvarinograd would decide to stop the subsidises for them, kicking them out.

Wearing nothing but a (rather revealing) leather suit, she walked over to Prof. Dr. Frank. "Say... what do you think? About that... war, out there?"

"Feh. Never cared about it. Please, could you hold... Ok, you may hold that one, too..." He chuckled.

"But it could threaten our subsidies, perhaps our position..."

"Yes, yes... ok, I will see, perhaps I will meddle with it. For now, my girl..."

But she couldn´t answer, having guessed his wish, already fulfilling it.

[/glorious tag of d00m]

Valkov's army corps linked up with the flanking armored division. The rebel supply base having destroyed, the site was no longer of importance, and the two sides had withdrawn. Several of the units he could see from his armored car showed scars of battle, and a few were badly enough damaged that she wondered if they'd make the trip.

He was sure it wouldn't matter to the rebels, who would gladly scavenge anything they could get their hands on for parts. The next rebel base was more than a thirty hour trip from where they were now, and he was alone in the makeshift tank with two soldiers he barely knew. It had been a while since he'd had time to talk. Now he had very little else to occupy his mind.

As he was going down the hatch, however, a bullet whistled above his head.

"Sniper!"

#-#-#

The military group was larger than the rebels had expected, though it was also a nightmare of improvisation, adaptation, and enforced utility. Most of the weapons and vehicles had been painstakingly modified by hand and crude tools to perform functions for which they'd never been intended.

Vehicles were patched together like Frankenstein's monsters, some of them still wearing hurriedly replicated military paint schemes. There were cars with armor, cargo trucks with weapons, construction machinery that seemed to have been modified to cut and smash things apart on 'melee'.

On the other hand, the rebels were ironically contrasting them with proper military equipment, and well organized lines. These were the 'elite' reserve of the rebels, and they were determined to push them back out of their territory, no matter the cost. The rebels' lines was almost frantic with activity preparing for the assault and with one heartfelt roar, they charged into the weary enemy.

"Victory to the Militarist Zvarinograd!"

James deGritz was a fool. Both he and the rebels had known that; he simply hadn't known how much of a fool until now. He could feel old wounds opening, feel them falling into the pit of their own differences, as powerful as the attraction that had once brought them together. "It's too late for that. I've been trying to find some sort of weakness from them for years. What chance does some voice out of nowhere have?"

Her look turned deadly serious. "Then it might be time to take Iuthia out of the picture, by any means."

He felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. She had a ruthless side that he sometimes forgot. "What are you suggesting?"

"Doing what we've always done, my boy, what's necessary for the survival of our proud heritage as military commanders. Using ruthless, underhanded tactics. If the Dictatorship of Iuthia would not back out peacefully, we will have to use biological warfare on them so we won’t worry about being crushed by two forces coming together from both sides. They can’t respond with their own weapons of mass destruction in a civil war, not without risking collateral damage.”

He shook his head. "No, we can't do that."

"We're the last of the old military, the last of the great commanders of this country. It's a dangerous world, even as protected as we are. Our forces are not unlimited, if we are to have a chance of survival, we have to eliminate the early opposition with every available resource and assimilate the country before others can respond."

He was considering what she said, which is why he happened to be looking out the window as the fireball erupted. The sound came a fraction of a second later, mostly as a strong rumble in the floor. Somehow, without realizing it, he was on his feet and standing in front of the window. “Damn it! We’re under attack!”

#-#-#

Valkov slammed on the communications console. "Reconnaisance seven!"

The pale soldier looked at the screen grimly, either unable to hear him, or unwilling to stop talking. "The rebels, they're desperate" He shook his head as though to clear it. Hhe brushed his hair out of his face, and he could see that he was trembling. "Not enough time to explain. Biological warfare, stolen from the Valkonezh Research Complex, breaks down everything into it's base elements."

In the background, he noticed for the first time a slight hissing noise, and a cloud shrouding the area.

"Reconnaisance seven, do you read me?!"

"Evacuate, now. Get everyone you can out of here. Avoid the affected areas, and don't let anyone out. Get away and don't come back." He coughed. The soldier's face was white and waxy looking, red veins clearly standing out in his cheeks. "Don't try to rescue us, or investigate. Get out while you can. We're all dead. Don't..." His eyes went wide. His hands came up as though to cover his face, then stopped halfway, shaking.

He fell back against a side of an armored car, his body shuddering convulsively. The camera lingered on him for almost a minute before there was a click, and the message was cut off.

Valkov leaned against commander's seat inside the makeshift tank to steady himself. He had to do what he'd said. There was no choice. He'd seen what was happening to the soldier before the message cut off.

He was melting.

The LRR government sympathizes with the government's cause, and the 22nd, 70th, and 34th Uhlans (paratrooper) divisions will be sent to support government operations, supported by LRRAF Su-25 squadrons, in the shortest possible time.

A lone Hacker3000 satellite powered up, spinning slowly in the vaccuum of space above the Earth, its new commands already being processed. The man responsible for the course change, Mikhael Aronofsky smiled thinly to himself, pondering the likelyhood of troubles on both poles of the planet at the same time.

Luckily, the Hack didn't have much need to be overly concerned with either pole. The Antarctic concerns were from an alliance, and the arctic concerns were... well... mostly curiosity. There was reason to support the status quo, especially given it's aparent political leanings, but not enough reason to even ponder troops, yet. He felt it would be best, for now, to simply make do with the satellites. No sense in stirring up the international community by making any moves. Especially not with the problems in Grafton's Isle.

Mikhael leaned back in his chair as the data started streaming in. Troop movements, snippets of transmitions, and general geographical information. Simultaniously a team of interns started scanning various sources for every bit of public information they could find on Zvarinograd. And some non-public sources too, of course.

It is the considered opinion of the the Divine Imperium of Novar Ohan and the Sunset Isles that a victory by the militant terrorists could destabilise the north-western pacific and open the door to an increase in military dictatorial regimes.

Therefore, the Divine Imperium will provide economic, political, and military support to the democratically elected government of Zvarinograd. Even as we speak, a task force is being prepared, consisting of the 7th and 8th Corps.


http://groups.msn.com/_Secure/0SgAAAGYX1IM2ccJhTY3qvyFJLtyfY0PYuNARCuJXXUDoaIJy3AnSb2L0Pv6I5FFWSrYpwqGX57dJiTrFXMXKHBBZxB1FFsHQVxk Wc74nFVYF*MbrOpd9uA/Blackwood.jpg
Charles Algernon Blackwood
Minister of Colonial and Foriegn Affairs and Trade
Divine Imperium of Novar Ohan and the Sunset Isles

Parliament had exploded in a sea of shouts. The Catholic Party had withdrawn its confidence in the government, and the CDP was split down the middle.

The Socialist Prime Minister pleaded for calm. "Please...fellow Burghers, calm down! It is in the greater interests of the Divine Imperium to aid the rightful government of Zvarinograd," Clarissa begged, standing up. "It sickens me to know that even now men are dying in a nation so close to us, men of our racial and governmental kin, and we do nothing! We're not sending too many men...and we are not engaging in nation building. We aim to help a legally elected government maintain power." She sat down, and stared up at the ceiling as the votes began.

The military mission to Zvarinograd was approved, 250-120, 30 Burghers abstaining.

http://groups.msn.com/_Secure/0SQCOFswWs1j07F67RJD!FSPjxowW*tnoe9yzCUy4JyMyoZdl5YpABFg**gs5HcOQIOLvgxk2NG1zKYITEj6QNxT7lw5aaHjFdcb *dxbjyEZZvrxJg!2ndQ/s3-ikusm.jpg
Clarissa Bencenoff
Prime Minister
Divine Imperium of Novar Ohan and the Sunset Isles

The transport ships were entering Zvarinograd waters, heading towards Port Miagkobrukhoi. On board the armada, thousands of men waited and prepared for the shock of landing. They armed themselves, and waited for the escort destroyer to give the all-clear.

Allanean Government Advertisement

It is the belief of the current administration that the current government of Zvarinograd is obviously unable to cope on its own with the terrorist threat - or, at least, to do it quickly and efficiently enough to satisfy the needs of Allanean National Secirity - and the people of Zvarinograd. Given that, we offer our aid to the Zvarini government, so that the fascist terrorists may be vanquished quicker.

To this end, we will aid the Zvarini people to completed the defeat of the fascists terrorist pseudo-revolutionaries. We will, first of all, send equipment, namely two thousand five hundred mothballed Liberator class fighters and one thousand Hannibal Lector Mark tanks. Further, five hundred Ariel Sharon urban warfare vehicles will be sent. Moreover, we will send 5,000 Edolian assault rifles captured in the last war.
We will also, of course, send the Zvarini people military aid, but the exact details will remain classified as of this moment.

The security of the Zvarini people is not an issue that matters for the Zvarini people alone. The security of the Zvarini people is a matter for all their allies and neighbors - any who might suffer from the brown plague of fascism. We care - not because we support the Zvarini government ideologically, but because we care. For life, for peace, for freedom.

In Port-Allanea

"Go! Go! Go!"
The Air Assault troops rush to the aircraft. Within minutes, 10 R-1707 jumbo carriers are in the air, each carrying 8,000 troops. (OOC: Yes. It's possible. Check the Raysian page).

"Get going, now!"

50 Howard Dean Supersonic Stealth bombers are on their way, carrying tons of explosives to the rebel positions.

"Go!"

300 Ann Coulter Mark II fighter bombers are on the way, escorting the craft.

X looked up from his morning tea, and blinked as he read the document in front of him. With a smile playing on his face, he contacted his secretary. "Lucinda, I want an Agent deployed to Zvarinograd...we have a terrorist armed with Weapons of Mass Destruction, and I'm making this a priority."


http://groups.msn.com/_Secure/0QgCdAhkUMKHaSLusUZrGvmumR1qXFjujKGRjVBp40nneJKQd0UYIMDRnrsDCYeCTT1IiKLlmAByXv5lXeMHfWs1v9gK!fx3SjjT tGXunV5U/X.jpg
Xavier von Brunswick
Head of Foriegn Intelligence
Divine Imperium of Novar Ohan and the Sunset Isles

Agent #24731 felt queazy as he watched the port draw closer. He hated salt water, hated it with a passion...but there were no airports large enough in Zvarinograd for an Air-Transport to land.

ooc: Edit: Of course this post was proofread and cleared by Zvarinograd...

Zvarinograd

It was a small outpost, nothing great... Basically irrelevant for the conflict.

And thusly, perfect for a little 'test'.

Frank wasn`t there, neither was his assistent, Miyamoto Akage.

However, Francis would be quite capable of handling the matter.

He smiled as detailed information regarding the environment, the area, its conditions, and so on were transmitted into his brain, his thoughts moving the machine, carefully preparing for the 'test'.

"There you are, my 'lil ones... How cute of you, excellenté." It was warm, where he was sitting, the entire vehicle was fairly warm, in fact, if it would stand at one place for too long, it would likely melt the ice. And the vehicle wasn`t the only 'warm' thing around...

Adjusting his pink collar, he continued. Considering the rather insane IR signature his vessel, as well as its accompanying drones would give, the target likely knew about him... If it wasn't for the signatures, then, well, they would hear him.

Another meter... And another. He giggled. "Bonjour, monsieurs. Bien bien... All in line..."

With a shriek, a scream, he moved forward, the entirely white body of his vehicle blocking the blue sky, blending the men in front of him, beginning its work...

It wasn´t entirely perfect. He wasn`t a military men, and sneaking... Well, he didn`t know how to do it (Perhaps they had seen the pink heart on one side of the machine), so the first thing he noticed was incredible firepower concentrated on him for a couple moments, a few of the smaller walkers were even destroyed by it. Well, it wasn`t like they had a long lifetime, anyway, under this weather conditions. He had already lost one during his approach.

F*cking winter, I would love the Coté À Sur... Tanned men... For an infinitesimal short moment, he was daydreaming, but that ended quickly, as a couple grenades hit him. Not that it mattered much, most of the men he had faced had already been reduced into something vaguely resembling soup, their liquids quickly turning into ice, showing a fair variety of colours.

"Eh? Looks like it worked..."

He sighed, since he had hoped for a bit more fun. Apparently, there were two survivors, one of them running away... He tried to snipe him, failing. He couldn't smoke in here, making the job rather difficult... What with shaking all the time?

Meh. Wont change anyt... Eh, who are you, young boy?

He saw, or rather, felt, the presence of the other survivor, hiding basically... Well, beneath his vehicle.

A grin appeared on Francis face. "You will live..."

A moment later, the survivor vanished, apparently being swallowed by the bulky, largely elliptical vehicle above him... Though one could argue that death would be the preferable option, for him.

A moment later, the small group retreated to its hideout, leaving (almost) no hints of itself whatsoever, the smaller drones being loaded into, or rather on top of the larger vehicle Francis was using.

"Fairly satisfying day, don't you think so, my boy?" There was some strange look on him, as if he was... lusting for something...

tag

With confirmation recieved from Zvarinograd officials, the Iuthian Army started it's preparations; most specifically the alterations made to all vehicles, weapons and equipement. Afterall, the weather in Zvarinograd would be well below freezing and everything will be more likely to fail, extra parts would be needed and special fuels would be required to assure that the fuel wouldn't freeze over.

Little expense was spared in assuring the men (and women) were well equipped and prepared for the task ahead. Peacekeepers would police secure areas and make sure that they stayed secure. The soldiers themselves were being ordered to bolster Zvarinograd's limited forces... no matter what the outcome this would change the people of Zvarinograd forever.

Within a couple days the first transports and groups of men were ready to be shipped out, air transport may be faster but it's often impractical as number and logistical limits restrianed the number of men that could be moved and land at once. The ocean was seen to be a safer option with larger carrying capacity and room for additional equipment, not to mention a strong naval force to protect them.

Overall about a division of the Iuthian Army would be deployed in order to assist their long held ally, after that came smaller brigades of Peacekeeper and Black Viper forces would come in for more specialised roles... but the priorities were to reinforce the Zvarinograd government to try and keep the govenment in control.

With the first shipment of Iuthian reinforcements leaving for Zvarinograd a large number of the Iuthian public crowded at the military deepwater port to watch their sons, daughters, fathers, husbands and wives leave for the harshest environment in the Urbanites region. With the Iuthian anthum playing at full volume, the first shipment left leaving hundreds, if not thousands, of crying loved ones hoping that they would come back in one piece.

---------------------------------------


With all the violence that was occuring in the city around them, the environment in the Iuthian Embassy was becoming worried and had since past such levels as "concerned". Ambassidor Jerry Lewton had been in Zvarinograd ever since the start of Iuthia's good relations with the pacifist peoples and now he was quickly packing his belongings...

Zvarinograd is too unstable to keep an embassy open, the Zvarinograd government couldn't assure their safety and the small garison of men that the embassy held wouldn't hold up against a rebel attack. It seemed to be the most well equiped and organised rebellion he'd ever heard of, or even read about.

So the decision was made, they were to vacate the embassy and leave Zvarinograd. The army would hell pacify the rebellion and secure the nation for their return... but right now they were only in danger and the benefits of the embassy had been over shadowed by the dangers. People had family here and couldn't afford to stay any longer.

A call went out to the Zvarinograd government to state this in writing, along with requests for assistance securing their exit from the nation itself. All they could do now was prepare their personal effects and get ready.


OOC: Important note: Iuthia has already confirmed much of it's involvement in the Zvarinograd Rebellion and has been recognised by the government, as such we doubt there will be trouble with the government as our forces arrive... I would advise others to make sure they have at least talked to Zvarinograd about sending forces.

Troop Arrival Times: The first will be assumed to be in Zvarinograd either by the next post or already in the nation, to be RPed by Zvarinograd if the latter, afterall he (and he alone) has permission to RP my men because of the control he has over them IC. The first shipment isn't precise in number because I'd rather leave it to convenience for Ren.

Finally, it needs to be said that Iuthia has confirmed the precence of an Iuthian embassy in a previous RP, we know we have an embassy there but if you are unsure about it you should talk to Zvarinograd before RPing the existance of one... afterall, if you have little or no relations with them it's unlikely you have such a building.

"We've tried to send survey vehicles back into the contaminated areas. They all malfunction and stop transmitting shortly after entering. The information we have suggests some breakdown of the organic materials in the vehicle: plastics, things like that and of course, the unfortunate loss of the driver."

Valkov nodded. "We think there may be a way to protect a vehicle, at least for a while, and we're working on a way to detect the approach of the bug, the Blight — that's what we've been calling it. That's about all we know for the moment. What we really need is to get back into the offensive. They've beaten us back from the outpost, we can't afford to defend again."

Valkov stared at Alexey, blinking silently. It seemed that there was nothing more forthcoming.

"I want to be kept posted on your progress. If there are any significant developments, contact Valkov at once. If necessary, we'll arrange another meeting." Alexey considered his own words for a moment, then continued. "Furthermore, I want you to arrange for me to be called in on a consulting basis."

Derzhikrai Volodislavlich blinked and bobbed his head nervously. "What? With all due respect, Prime Minister, I can't."

Alexey wasn't listening to him. "Valkov will make it worth your while, and there are plenty of legitimate reasons. Valkov is still, after all, the head of the Valkonezh Research Institute despite all this."

Derzhikrai's eyes narrowed. "I suppose, I could at least suggest the idea."

"Don't suggest, boy, push. Understand?"

Derzhikrai nodded, and when it was apparent they were through with him, he straightened and tried to put on a business face. "It's been a pleasure, Premier." He stuck out his hand again.

Alexey ignored it this time. "I'm not your friend, boy. I'm just somebody who is paying you for certain considerations. Remember that."

He quickly pulled back his hand, slid past Valkov, and departed without another word.

Alexey and Valkov watched him go, waiting until he'd been out of sight for several minutes.

"So," said Alexey, breaking the silence, "what did you see during the disaster that told you this rebel ambush was a cover story?"

Valkov turned and started walking away. "I heard a soldier warning me of the danger with his last breath." He kept walking. "I watched him melt into goo right in front of my eyes."

#-#-#

Alexey stood in the darkened control room of the command center studying the images flickering on the large screen. The link to the observer satellite had only recently been restored, and until now, access to it had been so limited that Alexey had only seen a few images.

Now his dealings with Iuthia had finally borne fruit. It didn't bother Alexey that the call had come at such a late hour. Maybe it was already too late anyway, he couldn't defend anymore. He had to be on the offensive.

Roania. What do they want?

On the screen, the same one-minute satellite video clip played for the fifth time since he'd arrived. Dr. Ivan Ofanas'evich Nashchokin addressed Alexey. He was the senior of the scientists, a hard-featured man with a shaved head and bushy black eyebrows. "Prime Minister, we're consulting you on this matter because of your broad knowledge of biological warfare. This video was taken from the observer satellite about a week ago. What do you make of it?"

As he watched, a vehicle, one of the rebel's combat units, lurched its way across the screen, pausing to spray a mist from a hose at a truck that had similarly lurched within range. Parts of the truck's cab melted under the combat unit's weapon, and the truck lurched once more before halting, perhaps forever.

He looked the scientist squarely in the eye. "I'd be glad to help if I can, but to be of much use, I need background. Tell me what really happened during the disaster."

"That agent was an accelerated microbe, engineered from bacteria that had lived in hot springs, deep ocean vents, and buried in the crust of Earth, microbes that already could survive the most hostile conditions imaginable. That microbe was designed to live and terraform in any planet, breaking oxygen bonds, releasing water and gases to form a new atmosphere."

"But," interjected Alexey, "the human body is full of oxygen bonds. So are many of our plastics and synthetic materials."

The scientists again looked uncomfortable. He was telling them things they hadn't intended for him to know. Just as well, as his conclusions depended on that knowledge.

"They're most likely only going to use the microbe on us, and on the Iuthians. They know us, the Iuthians, enough that they most likely assume we won't shoot back with similar weapons because of the collateral damage. The Roanians will be our key to taking out their WMD capability, or for a standoff. Contact them, and warn any Iuthians in our country to steer clear of the rebels."

The 12th and 16th divisions of the 7th Corps hit the beach. Quite literally, in several cases, as their LakeDweller amphibious landing boats drove up the beach and into the city. Their orders were simple. Secure a landing zone so that the entire 17th corps could land. Legionnaires disembarked on the beaches and in the city proper.

As they landed, a rebel armoured division counter-attacked, attempting to throw them off the beach.Tanks and jeeps raced through the city-streets, opening heavy fire on the amphibious vehicles. Dozens of Legionnaires died, their own heavy weaponry still on the boats. They opened what fire they could with the heavy machine guns on the LakeDwellers and their own submachine guns. The jeeps and their drivers were taken out, but the tanks and the APCs kept coming, opening fire, letting rebel forces out.

That was a mistake. As the rebel soldiers leapt from their vehicles, machine gun fire cut them down.

And in the distance, Imperial Bombardment Craft marked their targets, and let fire. Shells soared through the air, and landed on a concentration of tanks and apcs, destroying them (and a few gung-ho legionnaires). Finally, one of the Commissars gets the brilliant idea of getting the anti-tank weaponry stored in the back of the LakeDwellers. Soon, Imperial Legionnaires were hunting down the tanks and firing on them, rockets and ATW weaponry scoring impressive hits.

The two divisions eventually had taken the port. But it had cost them. Out of 10, 000 men, 3, 000 had died. And 2, 000 were injured and rendered unfit for service.

But it wasn't for nothing. Because, in the distance, the inmistakable hulls of more LakeDwellers, and larger troop carriers (possibly carrying Defender Tanks and artillery pieces) could be seen.

=====================

Lord Captain Commander Hylairon of the 17th Corps sat, pensively, in his mobile HQ. He hated the cold. He hated this operation. He hated the fact that he had no idea if he had seniority, and thus, over-all command, or if Lord Captain Commander Markenov of the 18th Airborne and Armoured Corps had seniority and over-all command. "Lord Captain Black," he said, softly, into his comm. link.

There was a hiss of static, briefly, and then the Lord Captain of the 12th Division's voice could be heard. "Yes, my lord?"

"Pull your men back into the city, and engage in searching for 5th Columnists amongst the civilian population."

=============

The rebel artillery was hard set in the mountains. The commanding officer in charge of the fire-base had given the order for it to switch targets, and aim for the accursed foreigners who had taken the city.

One of his soldiers looked up, suddenly. The sky had been darkened by two large planes, and...were those mushrooms falling from the sky? "Parachutists! We've got parachutists!"

In the waters around Zvarinograd, a force of LRRN Ivan Rogov class landing ships and other vessels prepares to disembark the 34th Uhlans division. Comprising of assault infantry and light armor, its job is to reinforce the government forces and allow a larger armored force (the 5th armored assault division).

Overhead, formations of modified Su-25s look for airstrips to land on. Since the LRRN had very few carriers, all of which are currently deployed off the coast of the ROK, the Su-25s had to fly in from airstrips on coastal LRR, with droptanks, and re-fuel twice to reach the area.

The country's weather had become increasingly erratic, in part because of winter crawling ever so closer. The cold, harsh wind had begun to spring new surprises on both sides of the war. Merciless blizzards had begun to appear everywhere. With every passing day the country was becoming less and less welcome to those who hadn't adapted to it.

The rebels, the government, had anticipated this. It would be only a matter of time before the foreigners could no longer handle the cold. This war had to end soon, or none of them will live past the winter, giving the rebels a clear shot at victory.

Something in the distant windblown rain of snowflakes caught a rebel's eye, nothing more than a slight thickening in the cloud. He watched carefully. The firebase was under attack by parachutists coming down alongside snowflakes, dressed in a white camouflage themselves.

Frag.

"Forget the Iuthians! Move to the firebase now!"

OOC:
Just to clear any confusion.

- Rebels use biological warfare on the government and Iuthians; a stolen failed terraforming experiment that breaks down organics into their base elements.

- Roania, Allanea, began moving towards the country.

- Secret: Most Glorious Hack monitors the situation.

- Secret: Angstian weapons experiment.

- Iuthians land on the country, was to be met by a rebel division, but was diverted to the Roanian attack.

- Roania assaults Port Miagkobrukhoi nearby the capital city where the battles between the government and rebel occured, attacks firebase.

- Rebel armored divisions begin counteroffensive on the firebase.

"Attention, Zvarinograd government forces, this is the LRRAF CAS detachment sent to aid you against the rebels. Requesting landing clearance on the nearest airstrip to arm and refuel, over."

The Su-25s circle, looking for the dull grey line of an airstrip or flat patch of ground.

"Well, fuck." Mikhael's responce to Roanian and Allanean forces summed up everyone's thoughts on the matter. This had to be sent up the line, and it dutifully. He wasn't surprised when the direct line rang minutes later, what surprized him was the voice on the other end of the line.

"Mik... what the Hell's going on over there?" If the female voice hadn't cinched it, the lack of his full name and the contraction would have told him that he wasn't talking to Victor.

"Er... you are...?"

"This is Elisa," pause, "Elisa Day," pause, "The Foreign Affairs Director..." sigh, "Look, Victor hasn't been handling things personally very much anymore. The fact that I'm on this line should be sufficient."

"Yeah... well..." He sighed, "Sorry, I'm on my downswing... brain's a touch fuzzy, Director. Anyway, are there any actions you want from me?"

"Not currently, no. Keep that satellite running, send more if we've got them to spare, and you think it's necessary. Otherwise, we aren't taking any actions just yet."

"No agent activation?"

"Not currently, no. Your reports indicate that there might be some strange goings on, and I'd rather not move until we know more fully the situation. Also, it looks like people are going to try and carve that sucker up. Send me a list of possible agents we can use, but don't activate anyone."

"Yes ma'am."

The RIAS agent watched as the soldiers secured the Port. He knew his objectives, and how to handle them. Putting on a captured Rebel uniform, he rubbed dirt on his face, making himself look like he'd been fleeing for days. With a short movement, he started to limp out of town, heading towards the target.

Or, rather, heading towards a Rebel Position. Several of the captured soldiers had proven most...instructive.

===========

The parachutists opened fire as they landed, clearing an initial circle as others landed. The century soon had the entire firebase under control. Then the Captain looked out, and saw the rebel soldiers approaching. He shivered, though he was quite warm from the adrenaline pumping through him. "Get those guns primed!" He yelled to his men, desperately.

The soldiers all saluted, and quickly ran to the captured artillery. The captain paused, and gave another, fateful, order. "And kill those prisoners!"

His 75 surviving men gasped, and quickly moved to do as ordered. After several mis-starts, the new Imperial Artillery opened fire on the approaching armoured divisions. And the prisoners...

A Commissar kicked several of the prisoners in the shins, and sent them running in the opposite direction to the approaching rebels. One of his men raised his gun, but the NCO forced it down, shaking his head. "Let them go." He smiled, secretly, knowing that that direction had been marked out as a minefield...

========

Lord Captain Commander Hylairon sighed, once more. He had recieved the depressing news that the 18th Corps would not be landing until the airport had been cleared...and he knew that he would be unable to make any major operations for most of the winter, instead forced to stay in the pre-constructed barracks he had contacted the motherland for. And he didn't know if they would be arriving for several weeks, or at all.

All in all, he was a man who did not need any more stress. Thusly, it came as a tremendous shock to him when he rounded the corner, and saw the Imperial Standard flying on every flagpole. The Zvarinograd flag was not in evidence. He looked around, and his eyes narrowed when he saw several of his soldiers laughing and joking. He called to them, "Did you rise those up?" He asked, beside himself.

The Legionnaires snapped to attention. "Sir, yessir! Celebrating our conquest, sir!" With a simple movement, Hylairon shot four of them with his automatic pistol. He turned to the remaining two. "Get them down, and put up the Zvarinograd Government standard. Anyone who I find acting like we're conquering this nation gets 7 years hard labour in Altara. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yessir!"

Alexey crouched down behind a control console and snapped an access panel back in place. He still made sure his duties brought him to the command center frequently, even though Valkov was now attached to his duties as a field commander. It was a good place to eavesdrop and observe, where an occasional nugget of information could still be found.

Moreover, his political stock seemed to be on the rise, the Council less interested in his movements, less concerned about his resources. More likely, however, they were just distracted, or simply too busy to bother with him.

Alexey was distracted too, an overwhelming force had just landed to the southeast of the city. He had to contact them, he was expecting the worst, and the approaching winter was tugging down everyone's heels.

The only hope now was to stay one step ahead of the rebels, salvaging resources as they went, to reestablish the airforce, to establish a proper military out of the militia he had gathered, and to make sure the Imperials didn't have the slightest idea of conquering Zvarinograd. He slumped back against the console and shook his head sadly. We've come full-circle. Who knew it would lead to this?

Certainly not he. Certainly not his fellow Councilmen when he and they decided that the country should disband it's military and embrace pacifism. Now, instead of being an icon of peace, all he wanted to do was hold things together, to put back together what they had broken asunder.

The rebels win, either way.

#-#-#

[code:1:ac66fe3e08]Communique;
To: Roanian Forces
Fr: Democratic States of Zvarinograd

Greetings. We will just be brief; we need to consolidate our efforts, now. We need your forces to flank the rebel base after we divert the rebels from you and you have established artillery preparation on the east side of the city, we're forwarding sattelite pictures and possible enemy positions to you shortly. Be advised, the rebels have a lethal biological agent that can break down organics into their base elements.

You may take prisoners as your discretion, with the exception of the rebel commander, if they are captured alive. We have, noticed, your methodologies of dealing with people comitting the high crime of treason and suggest that you deal with them instead.

That will be all.[/code:1:ac66fe3e08]

Amidst the Roanian chaos 6 figures in a different chamo scheme (white apart from a removable flag on their arms) stood on the docks, quite calm amidst the chattering of gun fire and explosions.
They hoisted their weapons and wandered over to a wall where they sat and pondered their moves, the objective was simple find the rebel commanders and eliminate them, aswell as wreck supply lines.
as part of POLISF their names were removed for the mission they had simply become numbers.
"Well Thaddeus, you could try to sneak as far forward as possible, locate the command post and take him out, that should screw them over here at least, then me and the others could move in and capture whatever we need, no CP no problem"
"This place is a nightmare, we'll need the bloody supply sledges, it'll slow us down a bit, but well that's life huh?" Carey, the teams Heavy weapons and demolition man frowned.
"Bah we have our orders, we just need to get them done, then we can go home and get thrown into the war in eurpe instead."
They laughed and clicked the safeties off of their weapons. Carey took the lead so they could blast their way through houses instead of taking to the almost suicidle streets.

Marcus Juano simply sat in his bunk, contemplating what would happen when they finally reached Zvarinograd. The situation wasn't hadn't got any better since they started mobilisation and it would seem that Iuthia is going to play an important part in the fight against rebellion. In fact in some respects the rumours suggest it was getting worses still as the rebels took more ground.

Marcus had never been in a real combat situation before, of course he had trained day and night and even in similar environments... but they were only pale shades of the real thing to come. Now he and his unit would face real opposition from real people fighting for whatever reasons, probably wanting him, the enemy, dead. There would be no "beers" after the session, there would be no second chances... this was it and it scared the crap out of him.

He had also heard that the temperatures there never rose above freezing temperature, which in comparison to Iuthia's constant warm climate would make things very uncomfortable. The training they had done covered this environment briefly, but with the suddenness of the whole situation they didn't have time to recap on everything... most of the information came with onboard instructions and would be recapped on the day. In these conditions your gun will jam and break easier, your vehicles engines may cease up and your water could freeze... each would be potentially lethal in some circumstances. It was alot of pressure to put on him.

However... Marcus was a career soldier, not some 18 year old rookie serving his complusory service, no sane general would allow those kids to do the work of men in something so important. Marcus was around 22, coming up to his 23rd Birthday in a couple months... most of his unit was about the same age, in other units they may be anything from 20 years old to 35 years, in some cases more but not often. He is supposed to be used to pressure, yet still he got the shakes.

When asked he would simply explain it away with the temperature... pretty much everyone here felt the cold, the transport ship may be sealed but it sure as hell didn't stay warm in some areas.

--------------------------------------


Dawn broke near the Zvarinograd port, the frosty sun shone it's way on the docks lighting up the assortment of snow and concrete with the freights adding to colour. In the distance the Iuthian ships could be seen, slowly advancing towards the troubled nation... many of the escort vessals had been hanging around for some time before the main transport group was in sight, but they needed to secure the area and check in with Zvarinograd officials at the port. Helicopters and planes passed overhead, the CVN Snegurochka came along for additional air support to assure that the Transport Vessals arrived without harm and possibly as editional support; the firepower of the Carrier's air wing may not be required, but it would at least offer something more then the Rebels may have, though it isn't a large part of the operation as a whole.


With time the transport vessals were cleared for docking and arrived bit by bit, each carrying part of the Iuthian Army for this operation... there was no ceremony in the process of docking the ships, the implications were understood by all. Carefully, the ships started to unload their cargo, thousands of eager men and tonnes of supplies and equipement.

OOC: Due to being tired I'm not going to add any more, such as the commander of this force and the RP surrounding his orders from Zvarinograd... so I'll do more either tonight or monday.

In Zvarinograd, Rebel Positions

Pyotr Geransky caught a rebel soldier in the sights of his Flamechucker and pulled the trigger. Withing seconds, the man turned into a living torch, rolling on the ground, screaming in pain. In the same instant, Geransky's companion waved his Robert Steinhauser light machinegunner at a moving shadow on a nearby roof and pulled the trigger. Geransky smiled as he saw the rebel sniper thrown back by twenty rounds of blended-metal 6.5mm Grendel ammunition. A few meters behind, the PSYOPS kicked into action - a chain of high-power loudspeakers accross the front, playing at full volume.

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored...

"For Allanea! For the Accord! For freedom!" - Geransky's companion screamed, putting the Steinhauser into position yet again. But he didn't have time to fire it. Another sniper, hiding on the very same roof, ended his life with a single shot from a Zvarini SVD rifle. Geransky swung around in amazement, only to see another Allanean fire a Siegfried missile launcher at the building. A faint smile appeared on Geransky's lips as he saw the structure, already worn out by repetitious hits, with walls peppered with bullet holes.

I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel:
"As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,

The rebels counter attacked and the Allaneans met them with a hail of well-aimed single shots. Years of marksmanship training, from elementary to high school to the Boy Scouts to the military were paying off, but Allaneans were also dying - torn apart by grenades, maimed by booby traps, cut down by machinegun fire. Street to street, rooftop to roof top, the fight went on. And the music was still playing, and the soldiers were singing along:

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me:
As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free...

OOC: It's amazing, in a nation which is at civil war with it's self, one side being the ex-military from the time when Zvarinograd wasn't pacifist vs. the government you somehow assumed that it's perfectly fine to completely ignore things such as even mentioning how your troops got from one point (their transport, which requires special airports to even land) to the other, where they are fighting Rebels without even a single mention of working with Zvarinograd...

Oh sure, some things can be assumed... but you've not even checked if its actually safe to land and haven't described any other way to get troops in... so I can guess that they have teleported into position to fight rebels...

OOC: Iuthia: are you aware of the fact air assault troops use parachutes? Tha that is the point of air assault troops?

OOC: Funny thing is, I don't see any mention of paratroops from you... in fact all I heard about is 10 planes with 8'000 guys in each. I seriously doubt they could paratroop their soldiers... Never mind though, I'll leave it to Zvarinograd, this is wank.

The Compassionate Dictatorship of La Habana fully supports the Zvarinograd government, and does not wish to see it fall to a group of fascist extremists. A squadron of T-160 'Blackjack' heavy bombers, each loaded with a payload of napalm, has been scrambled to assault rebel positions. Military advisors specialized in guerrilla warfare and counter-insurgency operations have also been sent to train government soldiers. La Habana's S3 (State Security Service) has been sent to assassinate rebel leaders, and to protect government officials from possible assassination.

The Air Assault troops rush to the aircraft

"Jesus christ" announces the Su-25 section leader.

The attack jets circle, looking for somewhere to land as their fuel gauges move precariously close to empty.

So far, nothing had gone according to plan. The 34th Uhlans had landed, but the BMD-3s and LT-7s had run straight into the flank of a rebel armored division, more than they were really equipped to handle. While the 5th assault armor rushes ashore in their MBT-6s and AMV wheeled APCs, the foreward airbase crews inch foreward in their PTS-Ms along with the armored troops.

Meanwhile, on the LRRA LZ outside the main city area (the LRRA hates urban combat), an LT-7 platoon and a BMD-3 platoon battle through a small patch of forest. The light tanks and IFVs were staple vehicles of the Uhlans divisions, light and air-droppable, if not the best armed (while the assault armor got the big, heavily armored vehicles).

Lieutenant George Champlain leads his platoon of infantrymen through the trees, followed closely by their BMD-3s and LT-7s. Gunfire can be heard on all sides, as can the roaring of motors.

The 34th Uhlans spearheads the assault as the 5th armored surges up behind, leaving the Uhlans troopers further back as the better-armed tank and APC forces move in.

OOC:
LRR: So you haven't figured it out yet? You do realize, that all my airbases are under attack from the beginning, there is no where to land, and blizzards are beginning to occur across the country.

What you people should really do, is contact me on #nationstates in IRC first. I don't really check telegrams much, so please bear with it. It'll help avoid bumps in the plot, rather than just be too spontaneous that it is ruined completely. Alright?

Later

"Merde!" Francis cursed, aloud. "Looks like we will need a bit longer until we can have our rendevous, mon cheri." He looked at his (bound and gagged) prisoner, licking his lips... His prisoner looked back, scared, his eyes expressing mortal fear. Francis liked it.

However, right now, he had something... different to do... As shiny as his (tiny) landship was... With the EM core broken, it wouldn't move at all... And the jet engine that had been attached to it really wouldn't help.

"Merde!" He said, again. "Stupid fancy stuff. It never works!" He began his work, still cursing, jacking into the local network that controlled the drones he had. The first thing that happened was one drone cutting through another one... Apparently, being pissed wasn't good for operating them.

But eventually, he started working, sweatdrops falling from his pink collar.

Still, he would need quite some time.

Frank E. Stein's semi- secret lair

"Looks interesting." Frank logged out of his personal satellite hive, slightly amused by what he had just seen. "We should certainly... Inquire about the details. I'm sure you can do the rest, Sophia?"

A grin showed up. A scary one. And Sophia was a scary woman. "Will do, my dear..."

A moment later, following her commands, a few small (very small) and diverse drones were launched, heading towards positions were this strange weapon had been used, as well as to positions where the tactical analysis said it would likely be used next.

Now they just had to wait.

"Oh, and btw... Sophia, I would love you to find the rebels... Someone of importance. I would love to have a talk."

Sophia smiled her wicked smile "Of course. I will start the search immediately."

Another moment, a few dozen commands... Communications are checked, seismic data is researched, rebel movements are analysed, and a picture of Sophia in her Leather & Lace outfit is taken.

Now, if Francis would come back, one could probably do it easier... But since he isn't there, and communications do not seem to work, they will have to wait for a bit.

OOC:
LRR: So you haven't figured it out yet? You do realize, that all my airbases are under attack from the beginning, there is no where to land, and blizzards are beginning to occur across the country.

What you people should really do, is contact me on #nationstates in IRC first. I don't really check telegrams much, so please bear with it. It'll help avoid bumps in the plot, rather than just be too spontaneous that it is ruined completely. Alright?

OOC: Zvar, what you need to do is post rebel casualties for the artillery attack, so I can post something besides filler. :wink:

And the agent should have met a rebel by now. 8) Still, your thread. I'll just...do...um...something.

IC:

The council room was in pandemonium. First Marshal Tartakan slammed his fist on the table for silence. "People, please! I am fully aware of the situation. I assure you, Imperial Supply corps have enough winter great-coats and anti-freeze for the campaign. Even as we speak, airdrops are taking place. There is no reason to worry!" He coughed, realising he had been shouting. "Begging your Imperial Highness's pardon... I am worried about the infrastructure within Zvarinograd, though. Roads are up to standards, but we're looking at having to build a temporary air-field just to get the 18th Corps on the ground."

X looked up from his own papers. "Apparently, the winter storms are interfering with my agent's radio signals...he's on his own. We're risking losing incredibly expensive equipment here... all because someone wanted to speed matters up on political expediency."

Clarissa rubbed her eyes. Recently, the Prime Minister had been exhausted lately, and she had no idea why. Shaking her head briefly, she looked around at her ministers, and then up to the throne where Malissa sat on the rare occasions she peeked in. With a sigh, she rested her head back on her chair. "All right...all right...what are you people trying to tell me..."

The First Marshal checked his documents. "We either need to make a speedy offensive now, with the men we have; or order the 17th corps to enter their barracks and just hold the city and surrounding area until the thaw."

"No other options?"

"...if we send a division of Elites, say...some Rangers, we might be able to do something during the winter. Otherwise, those are our options."

http://groups.msn.com/_Secure/0SQAdAwYXr2ieDsM5Yp3YEQ8UUHzpImYwYbCjobsNYybpG9qwogXxani4IT4C5TVPyiFdFrkREUcgNH2TZROcFmxEK6kQuYR3yKc u4cnWZYP41y24VM*RHg/Tartakan.jpg
Freidrich Tartakan
First Marshal of the Armed Forces
Divine Imperium of Novar Ohan and the Sunset Isles


After the council meeting had ended, X had returned to his office. He clasped his hands in thought, then sighed. "...I knew I couldn't expect everything to go right..." he checked the factbook he had been using for Zvarinograd. "But it says here, mostly...tro...pi...Zvarinagrad?!" He roared, slamming the book back on the table. "Where the fuck is Zvarinagrad? Glenda, what the hell is going on with this?" He sighed, realising his day had just gotten worse.

Thinking carefully, though, he threw the offending factbook into the fire. I'm guessing everyone else in the council knew about the real weather, I'll just play along. No one need know.

http://groups.msn.com/_Secure/0QgCdAhkUMKHaSLusUZrGvmumR1qXFjujKGRjVBp40nneJKQd0UYIMDRnrsDCYeCTT1IiKLlmAByXv5lXeMHfWs1v9gK!fx3SjjT tGXunV5U/X.jpg
Xavier von Brunswick
Head of Foriegn Intelligence
Divine Imperium of Novar Ohan and the Sunset Isles

"Absolutely not," Ebert said, shaking his head violently. "I warned you both about this matter, and now you aren't getting a Mark more from the treasury on this wildgoose chase." The Lord Chancellor stretched, and then chuckled. "I told you getting involved in that civil war would... what's that you have there?"

Clarissa showed him the photo. "I particularly like the moose...such an interesting pose."

"This is fake!"

"I know that. You know that. But Her Imperial Highness doesn't know that..."

"Blackmail..."

"Exactly. As your Prime Minister, I order you to provide sufficient funding for a winter offensive to the MoAF."

"Yes, Prime Minister..."

http://groups.msn.com/_Secure/0RgD!AsIVow4*XTWWR0xr9oUawzXqct3H3eWOkN3RDrX5HCu65*qz3d91FRtR9UAgQJZ1FJHTBg7Ay48KxViOl0xAji6Frq0up*S iT0*ecqE/Ebert.jpg
Ebert von Kurstow
Lord Chancellor
Divine Imperium of Novar Ohan and the Sunset Isles

[code:1:f611966e42]FROM: Lord Captain Commander Hylairon of the 17th Corps of the Imperial Legions; Commander-in-Chief of Operation Freedom Reign
TO: First Councillor Alexey, of the Democratic States of Zvarinograd
RE: Your most generous offer

My thanks to you and your fellow council men. We have been sent from the Divine Imperium to assist the rightful government of Zvarinograd in its struggle against the militarist dogs. We would, under ordinary circumstances, accept with great pleasure the offer of an early assault.

However, I am afraid that I don't have an Army to back me up, just the men of my Corps and those soldiers of the 18th that have managed to land. I am also afraid I must decline your offer, and strongly advise you hold your men back until we have taken the steps neccessary to sort out the chemical weapon situation.

No major offensives should be launched for the next few days. One way or another, in less than a week, there will not be a chemical weapons problem. I ask you to avoid sacrificing your men needlessly in a major offensive.

However, if you honestly feel that that is what is required, then we will take part. Every bone in my body, however, is telling me that we should wait.[/code:1:f611966e42]

==========

The agent checked his map again as he walked up the road. Archangosk? Achrenchosk...I can't pronounce the bloody thing...I'll make like a mute when I see someone in a rebel uniform, and just point on the map to where I want to go.

OCC: I assumed that there would be some patch of ground that could be converted into a landing strip. You don't honestly think the LRRAF actually uses its paved runways, now? Dirt roads or flat stretches are the norm. However, that's in LRR, where the landscape is not covered in forest.

IC:

The Su-25s, one by one, begin to loose power. Things had really been messed up. With roads clogged by vehicles, and the foreward airbase crews unable to advance against the rebel armored columns, the pilots had little to do but eject.

The weather was not so much of a problem. They routinely had to fly combat sorties in such conditions in LRR. But the fact that they were out of gas and the weather was, er...less than favorable....did make a difference.

The entire air operation had, all in all, failed miserably. There went 50 Su-25s that the LRRAF could not really afford to replace. Heads would roll among the LRRMFs command for sure.

On the ground, the LRRA forces were, again, not doing too well.

The light tanks and IFVs had proven less than adequate against the rebel T-90s, and many of the light tanks were destroyed by the superior cannons on the opposing tanks.

It, in fact, appeared at several points that rebel counterattacks would be successful in breaking the LRRA line, with the 5th armored still unloading from their ships. However, Kornet and RBS-56 teams manage to hold them off each time.

However, the 5th armored begins to trickle inland, with visible results. MBT-6s, with their small size and greater utility in closed spaces, prove very effective in the forests, and re-energize the LRRA assault. The tanks are backed up by CV-9040s, carrying eight-person infantry squads (the regular squad size is 12). Soon, the advance appears to be making ground.

In close combat with the rebel tank formations, the MBT-6s exchange fire with T-90s and other rebel armored vehicles (I read somewhere that the rebels use T-90s?). The CV-9040s disembark their troops, joining the infantry from the 34th Uhlans. With MBT LAW anti-tank rockets sprinkled liberally among all infantry units, quite a few find use in this battle. Disembarked infantry fire their MBT LAWs into rebel tanks, hopefully hitting a few.

OOC: LRR, one of these days (now is a good time, actually), you'll have to tell me how you got those soldiers on the ground, when there's no airport to land at (and any which are rendered safe, I intend to take for my own troops), you posted no mobilisation, and, as far as I know, the only open port close to the capital was first in Rebel hands, and now in mine. And you're mad if you think I'd let anyone else land troops there now. Port <insert unpronouncable/unspellable name now> is currently being turned into a fortified winter camp with the sole purpose of keeping Imperial Soldiers nice and warm. The last thing that Hylairon would want is more people landing there, needing to be fed, kept warm, etc. Hell, he's reached the stage when he'd use the captured rebel guns to shoot down his own ships, imagine what he'd do to someone else's?

So, what's the deal? Magical tely-portation? Spacedy-ships? Giant gorrilas that walked from your nation and onto Zvarinograd, carrying your soldiers and tanks? Or did you have men already in the country? In which case, why the fuck are you wasting your time with the rebels by the capital, when me, Iuthia and Allanea would pay you to use those soldiers to free up one of the god-damn airports? Hell, if you had that many troops already in the nation, you could have stopped this rebellion when it started. Zvar, mind clarifying this for me? Are LRR's land-based troops in your nation? If so, why aren't you using them as sacrificial lambs for the Chemical General?

And if it is Spacedy-Ships or Magical Teleportation, I would have really appreciated being told that this was a future/fantasy tech rp, instead of what I assumed it to be (modern-modern+).

Jesus christ. Forget it then.

He didn't care. First of all, he was mad, damn it, and it felt good to break a few regulations, and second of all, nobody was around to complain. The tunnels were almost deserted. Every adult who wasn't engaged in a service vital to the defense of the city was in Valkov's "town meeting," the meeting Alexey had just walked out on. He ran past a huge set of pressure doors, startling a workman who was fixing the utility conduits that lined the wall like rows of fat sausages. He slowed slightly as he passed a group of soldiers that was carrying an injured one, turned left, and opened a door.

Alexey, Valkov, and the latest addition, a promising young woman named Vladisforena, gathered around a lab table looking at the photos displayed on the built-in screen. Dr. Vladisforena pointed proudly at the reconnaissance photos that had led to her discovery.

Alexey sighed. "So, they have their own version of our Outpost Alpha, a secondary command center and a main supply depot. The only difference of which is that this one distributes the biological weapons to the special rebel units. The others might want to see this, if only communications weren’t down.”

“We’ll just have to use more conventional methods, deliver the messages by courier.”

Valkov snorted, looking surprised. “You trust that method, in the country’s harsh weather?”

“It’s the only way. We’ll just have to risk it.”

#-#-#

A column of Imperial infantry appeared out of the snow covered netted sandbags of the firebase. There was a deafening bang, and the rebel armored car lurched from a glancing blow from a RPG. The armored car swerved and slowed, using the snow to confuse the soldiers sight, but the enemy could simply fall back and hit them from behind. They had seconds, no more.

The armored car swerved again, started heading directly towards the infantry. Its turret swung toward them. Then a shell shot out of the blowing snow and crashed into the side of the armored car, its cab crumpling flat and soon after, exploding in a cloud of debris and fire. For a moment the Imperials was dazzled, but soon realized that makeshift tanks, visibly salvaged, reconstructed from debris and painted with the distinguishing red and gold insignia of the Democratic States of Zvarinograd rolled in the horizon.

The surviving rebel tanks had dogged their heels much of the way back to the city, until they'd met up with government reinforcements who easily picked them off. A convoy of trucks ran past the government’s tanks, filled with additional supplies, equipment and clothing to withstand the winter. Aboard one of the trucks was the courier, clutching the envelope with the pictures tight.

Lord Captain Commander was sleeping, quite soundly, when he heard an explosion. He leapt to his feet and grabbed his Automatic Pistol, throwing the door of his commandeered bed-room open. "Freeze!" He roared, waving the gun around.

The woman who ran the boarding house puffed on her pipe speculatively. "Begging your Captain Commandership's pardon...I told them they'd wake you."

"What?Who?" He opened the door of the boarding house, and blinked when he saw..."Praise the Lord...it's the Engineers!"

There was another loud explosion, and a hill just outside of the town exploded in a loud burst of fire and rubble. The engineer captain ran up to the LCC. "My Lord, we request permission to begin building an airfield at Nova Merskatnor."

"Granted...blessings be upon you."

OOC: Mea culpa. The calculation of the amount of soldiers was based on an assumption the RT-1707 carries 8,000 troops. It carries 3,000:

http://www.bateshome.com/jordan/rt1707.htm

Therefore, there are 30,000 Allanean troops in the field and not 80,000.

OOC: Mea culpa. The calculation of the amount of soldiers was based on an assumption the RT-1707 carries 8,000 troops. It carries 3,000:

http://www.bateshome.com/jordan/rt1707.htm

Therefore, there are 30,000 Allanean troops in the field and not 80,000.

OOC: Mea culpa. The calculation of the amount of soldiers was based on an assumption the RT-1707 carries 8,000 troops. It carries 3,000:

http://www.bateshome.com/jordan/rt1707.htm

Therefore, there are 30,000 Allanean troops in the field and not 80,000.

Over in the west of Zvarinograd the Iuthian soldiers were now organised into their seperate companies and were in the process of both further fortifying the port as their main source of logistical support as well as equipping their soldiers and recaping on artic survival, even though they would mostly be fighting in the city it would get mighty cold and special treatment was needed for every peice of equipement.

Major General Lewis simply sat and thought about the role of his division in this war. The soldiers from Roania would need to have some heat taken off of them if they are going to take back that Firebase to reinforce their numbers. Iuthia's relatively small number of soldiers would push against the rebels in order to pull them away from Roania's assault, however the cost may be high. Outside his men were getting their supplies together and organising the logistical side of their operation. Meanwhile others who had already got prepared were now securing the surrounding area.

Now it was just a matter of getting hold of the Zvarinograd battle masters in order to report in and get their orders.

----------------------------

Marcus Juano was now suiting up with the rest of his squad mates, the shakes had got worst since he disembarked from their transport vessal, only the cold itself prevented others from seeing how nervous he was. Zvarinograd was a cold and unforgiving place, the concrete port blanketed in snow made for a gloomy view and the light snow was relelentless in its fall.

He could feel that it was only a matter of time now that his team would depend on him and no matter how hard he tried this was not just a drill... every sense was real, every moment was catalogued as though it may be his last. Now all the bullets would be real and they would be fired at him in order to kill him.

Few others seemed to be concerned about this, the spirits where reasonably good in the circumstances and while many were concerned that this is their first real battle, they were also excited.

Soon orders would come in and they would be on the move...

-------------------------------------------


Meanwhile at home, another transport vessal was preparing to leave for Zvarinograd. However, the public were not invited for this parting... the Iuthian Black Viper Specialists often didn't have any family and the goodbyes being said were more private. These men and women were the specialised soldier Elite of Iuthia, specialised in anything from anti-terrorism to demolitions... each Black Viper had their own specialist subject.

This Battalion of men were specialised in anti-terrorism, trained to operate in varying methods of removing terrorism.

ooc: As usual, post cleared with Zvarinograd

The icy desert

The drones move slowly, some on tracks, others on tiny, spidery legs, some fly.

They are unlikely to be actually noticed, painted white, their heat radiation barely noticeable.

After a while, the first arrive at their targets, taking samples... Where the weapon was used, they are (surprisingly) save, a quick analysis proving the point: Apparently, this weapon isn't working for long.

Biochemical samples... It seems to be a biological agent, bacteria, most likely, and under the Zvarinograder conditions, naturally rather short- lived.

A few other samples... the mess of the former soldiers and their vehicles. Another test, structure of the remains.

Much of it is frozen, but the results are still rather clear, and theorising about the way the weapon works isn't exactly hard to do. Another moment vanishes in the eternal move of time, and the first (theoretical) countermeasures are evaluated.

They work fast, and they are efficient. Not exactly the stereotype of a mad scientist, but Frank is allowed some deviations.

The only annoyance are troops (Frank isn't exactly sure on whose side they are, but that doesn't matter) occasionally spotting and shooting at the drones which, being armed with nothing but a taser, are basically defenceless, and quite a few break down, though they do tend to leave the occasional defender in spasms.

Meanwhile, Sophia is continuing her search, apparently successful, locating the leader's domicile. With a cry of joy, panting, though not yet reaching her climax, she jumps up, taking a nice coat with her to protect herself from the insanely low temperatures... Even her augmented body, specialised to survive under such conditions, can't work out there... Not at 200 Kelvin.

Well, at least not when clad in a skimpy leather outfit.

Taking out the (fancy, pink/ black) snowmobile, she begins to move, to find The leader, idly contemplating his (or her) value as a 'toy'.

Of course, she doesn't know that she just made a significant mistake... But she would surely find out, later.

The assassin spotted the Zvarinogradians before they spotted him. Hoping they were rebels, he stepped out of concealment, and waved his hands. "Hey! You there!"

They paused. "Yes, soldier? Why aren't you at your position?"

"I need to get to Archangelosk...it's an emergency...need to see the general about his chemicals..."

"Oh, Oh. The general? Step inside that truck, it's leaving for Arkangelosk soon."

It had seemed a silly notion when he'd thought of it, and he certainly hadn't expected him to be a spy, having slipped past security without a hitch. He knew the commander was in Arkenskaya, not Arkangelosk, a meatgrinder for both rebel and government forces, but he'd decided to play along.

"Thanks."

There must have been a dozen or more of them, young, old, some in grubby work clothes, some in their military best. They were quiet, somber, respectful, mostly keeping their distance from one another. Those were probably the last time he'd see those soldiers, as they departed in the truck with the spy. He nodded, and his eyes darted toward the ensuing skirmish with the mechanical monsters, as though he was afraid he'd miss something. Then, he suddenly collapsed into spasms.

#-#-#

Mosii Fedorovich peered around the corner of the darkened corridor. "It's clear. Let's go." He said, in a hushed voice He crept around the corner, Mikhail Volosov right behind him lugging the heavy 'box' he'd been given.

"Are you sure this is okay?"

Mikhail was a newbie soldier, needed to be broken in. "Of course it's not okay. That's the whole point. We need to hit hard at the Allaneans with the biological agent, so that they won't be able to continue fighting."

"But I'm a rookie."

"Yeah, it is an honor to be chosen, isn't it? Trust, me, this is part of the tradition. Someday, it'll be your turn."

Misha didn't look convinced. "If I live that long."

"We're going to set a little trap in the Allanean camp. As soon as we set the box and get out of here, 'bam!'"

Misha looked nervously at what he was holding.

After a few minutes, Mosii looked around. The box was rigged, and he'd even placed explosives on the nearby building so none of them could escape. All he had to do was place the trigger, and he could do that on the way out. Some of the soldiers were beginning to awaken, he cursed under his breath, fumbled with the trigger, and sprinted, accidentally stepping on the little box as he did. The last thought he had was the most fatal word in the history of mankind, 'Oops.'

A military camp is generally a relaxed place. A place where you withdraw from the horrors of combat, take off your flak jacket, chainmail, spear, whatever, and relax . So was this one. The soldiers were mostly sleeping, curled up in their sleeping bags, tents, trenches. Some even on duty. The ones sleeping on duty would usually wake up to court martial when they woke up.

This time, they woke up to something far, far, worse. Their comrades - the ones that were not wearing their protective armor - most soldiers, in fact, were not wearingi it, who's dumb enough to sleep in protective gear when you don't have to? -were rolling on the floor, coughing, and slowly melting away.

Within several minutes, all was over. Only some of the soldiers- those still wearing the Raysian Arms Mark III protective suit - survived.

Out of a total of 18,000 troops, only about 2,000 lived to see the light day.

Have you considered the Accord? (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=154695)

Frank E. Stein's semi- secret hideout

"Yes? Ok, good... Well, have fun. Just... Yes, yes, exactly that. ... What? Why? ... No. ... Argh. Ok, Ok, I will do it. Have fun. And No molesting the commander.... Yes. Yes, I mean it. Bye." Frank closed the connection, sighing. She will molest him...

He shrugs, continuing his work. He doesn't yet know every detail of this shiny biochemical agent, but he is fairly certain that he can protect his own stuff...

And that he will need.

Nanotechnological solutions prove to be way to complicated, and way to expensive. But there are easier ways. If the agent breaks down oxygen bonds, while being an organic organism, nothing is easier than breaking them down, first. Chemicals reducing carbon- based molecules to something closely resembling nothing are found easily, though containing them is quite a bit harder... Considering the excessive amount of organic materials Frank uses.

Nonetheless, it wont take more than a couple hours until his hideout is secured.

Resting for a minute or two, contemplating the news and two dozen Angstian corporations increasing the bounty on his head, he eventually continues his work, now with a few drones which he modifies in rather subtle ways.

Creating a surface area where the bacteria and/ or their 'poison' can't enter is easy, unfortunately, such an object would be blind, deaf, and generally useless. Securing the points where the weapon could enter proves to be harder, but eventually, he succeeds... Though he is pretty certain that 10% failures can't be prevented, especially considering certain details based on the local 'weather'.

The really interesting part follows later. How to get living samples?

Watching his daily dose of soap operas, crying a little as Mary Sue leaves the poor, geeky (but genius) boy alone to go out with the attractive & successful class idol, he eventually gets the idea while pondering the distinct parallels between himself and the poor, geeky genius, and begins the work, directing tiny drones to rebuild larger ones, succeeding within the hour.

"Yes. Yes, this works well." A few moans answer his satisfied comment, he really needs to get around disposing of the objects...

The explosion devastating a good part of the main hall mere seconds after he thought that reminds him that chemistry has never been his best subject.

He wasn't the only one cursing. Francis, having just returned, preparing for a little rendevouz knew that it had just been cancelled... He was needed elsewhere.

"Merde!"

It was indeed a horrible, horrible day, for him.

The icy desert

Sophia cursed. "Two times. Two times this shitstick of a snowmobile malfunctioned. I..." She didn't continue, just kicked it. Well, at least she had finally arrived at Arkenskaya.

"Now, for a contact..." She cursed under her breath, searching for someone to talk to. I just wonder if he has finished the modifications... She thought, then she took cover. Apparently, the local guards were not at all interested in visitors... Visiting.

And despite generations of constant modifications in their DNA, despite joining men and machine... Bullets were still something quite, quite deadly.

"Oh, Oh. The general? Step inside that truck, it's leaving for Arkangelosk soon."

It had seemed a silly notion when he'd thought of it, and he certainly hadn't expected him to be a spy, having slipped past security without a hitch. He knew the commander was in Arkenskaya, not Arkangelosk, a meatgrinder for both rebel and government forces, but he'd decided to play along.

"Thanks."

There must have been a dozen or more of them, young, old, some in grubby work clothes, some in their military best. They were quiet, somber, respectful, mostly keeping their distance from one another. Those were probably the last time he'd see those soldiers, as they departed in the truck with the spy. He nodded, and his eyes darted toward the ensuing skirmish with the mechanical monsters, as though he was afraid he'd miss something. Then, he suddenly collapsed into spasms.

The agent watched, amused. He pulled out the map, and started to scan it. He turned to one of the soldiers, and coughed. "Sir, my glasses were destroyed in the fight for the port..." he said, respectfully. "I haven't heard much from command in months...is the general in charge of the chemicals still at Archangelosk?"

Alarmed by the ease with which the rebels had penetrated their defenses, the country had been given a new priority, and its splintered political factions had aligned behind one thing and one thing only: a massive military buildup. The people now yearned for a new government backed by prowess in military tactics. The country will no longer tolerate being pushed around, the once docile, pacifist people have changed their demeanors, they will fight as fiercely as humans could possibly be, like animals.

It was as he'd predicted, The rebels will win either way.

#-#-#

Retribution had come swift and hard for the actions of Pucilo Vakulich, Cloak and Dagger secret agent. Under cover of darkness, a government militia convoy had sliced through Arkenskaya's defenses, ignored choice strategic targets, and made a lightning raid on the structures presumed to be command centers. An attempt to remove rebel control over the country's main airbase, Stronghold, had been repelled thanks to courageous action by the rebels, but he was able to blend in the ranks of the rebels, a fatal mistake.

When the communications channel went dead one afternoon after that particularly heated session, it was no surprise. Pucilo made his way down the halls of the makeshift bunker, looking for the field commander. Pucilo was an assassin, though he'd never admit being called that, not that anyone alive would be able to tell him anyway.

Alexey Zvarinsky sat down at one end of the empty Senate table facing the big screen set up at the other end. For the first time in the past few months, he would have a legitimate, legal communication with rebels.

Give it to the council, when it comes to survival issues, the bases are covered. In secret, even as the shooting war was heating up, lines of communication had been opened with rebels, and the stage set for negotiations, not to end the fight, but to ensure the safety and survival of the country though the harsh winter of the country. The winter is a worse enemy, it wont give any quarter to anyone. Alexey had been reluctant to step into the role of negotiator, but the majority of the council had insisted that he was especially qualified, and had granted him significant powers. It was just possible that he might be able to accomplish something here today.

#-#-#

He glanced around the garage of the Valkonezh Research Institute and watched the last scientist go on break precisely as scheduled. Three test model tanks were lined up in the first three bays. He sealed the visor of his combat suit, slipped his keycard out of a front pocket, and walked toward the first tank.

The hatch opened immediately when he ran his key over it, and he lowered his feet into the opening and then slipped inside. The short, narrow space pushed his knees up and in, and barely gave him room to pull his elbows in.

He slid down a little farther into a semi-reclining position, giving just enough room to pull the hatch shut over his head. The emergency operations console swung down in front of him, and the screens and pads lit, giving him enough light to look around and examine the bare-metal coffin he'd just climbed into. The compartment was designed for functionality, not comfort, and it certainly had never been intended for cross-country trips. Unlike most vehicles, it was very well made and well equipped. It was the prototype of the new tanks the researchers were proposing for the military buildup.

He activated the manual controls, and directed the sleek, camouflaged tank out of the garage. Fortunately, the on-board Archangel computer could handle the precise steering. All he had to do was use the console to tell the vehicle where he wanted it to go.

“When you want something done,” Alexey muttered, “you have to do it yourself.”

#-#-#

Alexey watched the seconds tick by in the corner of his eye, he tried to judge the movements of both his tank and the rebel’s. If they didn't speed up in its sporadic, weaving dance across the streets, they'd beat it here easily. He took this to his advantage.

Quickly he surveyed his surroundings. The ablative coating showed highlights of iridescent color as he turned, and the light-weight armor plates was painted with gray, just to signify the sorrow that had built from the country’s failed dreams of pacifism. Moment of truth. The path projector's invisible beams swept along its flank and locked on. They'd barely feel those, but they were only to provide a path for the volley of shells he was about to unleash. Fire!

One SABOT flew from the turret, whistled in the air for a moment, then slammed hard into a tank. The turret fired again. It narrowly missed the target, then flicked into contact, and blew the side of another tank open like a ripe melon. Yes!

The government attempted to break past the frontlines with the support of their dearest allies, the Iuthians, once and for all. They're using the flurry of tank skirmishes to cover them while key squadrons take flank fire positions deep in enemy territory and finish them off. The assault was orchestrated well, down to the last man.

OOC:
Trying to get the rebel commander to meet up with my character. If this is to end, she has to talk to him. Anyway, this is a 'spur of the moment' post, been playing Blitzkrieg to relieve my boredom.

Current Music:
Blitzkrieg – Russian Campaign Start, Background Music (c) Nival Interactive

The familiar multipurpose hall was dark and unnaturally quiet. It hadn't been produced in months, and the place might never be used again. That made it perfect neutral territory for their meeting. Alexey Zvarinsky stood on one side of the platform, the rebel commander on the other. Both had a gun. Nobody was talking. He broke the silence, "Tell me the truth."

"She had an unfortunate accident, several of them actually. You know it, I know it, the whole country knows it. The cumulative effects were fatal." Alexey felt his stomach knot. He didn't need his emotions to bother him now. He glanced warily at her. The woman looked mad enough to do something stupid, and there'd been enough innocent deaths today.

He frowned and licked his lips. "What a nice story, dear. However, I can't bear to exchange chit-chat anymore."

"You're not still on that, are you?"

"Suffice it to say that somehow they injected a chemical that over time converted the gel into a highly unstable, if not very powerful, explosive. A sharp tap is all it took to set it off, and it blew the window to shreds, exposing the bioweapon to him. Any kind of projectile weapon would have produced a sufficient impact, even a slingshot, maybe even just a well-thrown rock." He came closer, eyes narrowing. "Admit it, you murdered him."

"Brilliant deduction. True, I did murder her, but I murdered her because I loved you!" She pointed his gun at him, shaking visibly.

He laughed, deep and hard with a slavic accent, until tears ran down his cheeks. He cried, he didn't care anymore. All his worries, hardships ran out of him as he knelt slowly. Finally he managed to calm himself a bit and stood up, walking to her, dropping his gun. He lurched forward, his chest was bleeding.

"What?!"

"I never loved her, Nataliya. All these years, you haven't figured that out yet? You were so blind in your jealousy that you ignored me."

The woman stepped back for a moment, shaking her head in disbelief. "That's a lie!"

The look on her face showed that she'd finally realized what he was about to say. Alexey half expected her to shoot him then, which might have served his ultimate purpose as well as what happened, he didn't need nor want to live anymore anyway. "I love you, Nataliya. I still do."

Tears were streaming down her face. Her gun hand trembled. "I’m sorry." She dropped her gun, and went to him. “I’m so sorry.” She smiled that sad smile, the smile he hadn’t seen for a long time, and for the first time since he’d been heartbroken, he kissed her. Suddenly, a gunshot echoed across the empty room, and government militia soldiers immediately rushed inside the building just to find Alexey, holding her, in tears. He had at least made her happy, before she died.

“I’m sorry too, my love.”

#-#-#

It had been a good day, thought Alexey Zvarinsky as he stood on a hilltop, watching the aircraft of the country climbing into the sky once more. So much accomplished, so much to remember. There was the moment when he tried to imagine what the people guiding the rebel forces thought, when one of their own transports charged through their lines and headed into the government under the protection of government forces. What did they think when they learned that this transport carried all the remaining children that was fighting the side of the rebels?

He thought of his final words to her as they stood in that hall. They kissed for the last time, and there was a moment between them when no words were spoken. He had imagined a different world, where he and Nataliya had raised a son, and he had been for that moment, proud. He stood on the hill overlooking the abandoned hulk of the city. On the far edge, buildings exploded and burst into flame. Both the Iuthians and the Imperials had heard of the elimination of the bioweapon's threat, and were mopping up on the opposition.

On that hill, since his childhood, he had been looking at his country's cold and harsh embrace. He took off his hat. His ears popped and he held his breath as he removed it. The air was cold as though he'd put his face in a freezer, but he ignored it. He took a deep breath of Zvarinograd's air. It was thin, cold, unsatisfying. It burned. But it was his air. His world. He took one last look at the dying city, and turned away, toward the convoy of survivors who waited below, from the government and rebels both, their differences forgotten.

He walked to join them. Perhaps to lead them, in his last few days of life. The winter might be as unstoppable as they thought, but while there was life, there was hope. Now that the survival of country was ensured, it was all they had.

They would never give up.

They were only human.

OOC:
Wrapping this up. I can't bear this roleplay anymore. It's very tiring.

Roania:
Consider the non-aggression pact signed, too tired to continue this towards the negotiations of the pact. My character will die, anyway, and snap elections will take place when I've written up a post in probably the next two weeks.