NationStates Jolt Archive

Chopinburg, Eurusea

As Premier Kurchatov stood, she knew at the back of her mind that all of Eurusea was listening to her, if not in the crowd in front of her then on cinema screens and from propaganda speakers around the nation. All five provinces waited, the workers in the factories laying down their tools, the soldiers standing at attention on their parade grounds, the crews of the immense Floating Fortresses in the bay standing on deck. Over three and a half billion people stood still. For the first time since she'd been named Premier, she almost felt nervous, standing at the window of the old King's Palace that now housed the People's Soviet.

'Comrades!' a rousing cheer went up from the crowd, 'Glorious workers of Eurusea! Today is a great day for justice!' she smiled, 'For too long we have let the evil crimes against our people by the foul heathen dogs of Syskeyia go unpunished! You all remember, comrades, how these vile monsters fired on a peaceful crowd of Reich citizens for daring to challenge their right to run a disgusting house of sin, comrades, a brothel, no less, on holy Reich soil? Do the workers of Eurusea tolerate such despicable brutality by the oppressive fascists?'

There was a rousing 'No!' from the assembled crowd. Nicole nodded, 'Of course we do not! Those who murdered Eurusea's children have been sent to hell where they belong by the justice of Iesus Christi, but their masters, the demons who gave them their orders, where are they, comrades? Every day they sit in their ivory towers laughing at the plight of their oppressed workers, forced to serve their evil masters and worship their foul, blasphemous rat-goddess! Who will free them if not us, comrades? Who will give Syskeyia back to the people, who will restore justice and the worship of the one true God and his prophet, the holy Comrade Marx, if not the workers of our proud nation?'

She banged her fist on the window ledge in front of her, 'Nobody, comrades! Nobody has the determination but us now! We will lead, so others may follow the glorious red banner of the revolution! Go now, go into the factories, and produce the arms that will liberate the oppressed! Go into the barracks, become the unstoppable Red Army that will thrust the blade of revolution deep into the heart of the evil bourgeoisie! Go into the schools, teach our children to hate our evil enemy, and teach them that together and with God on our side, nothing can stop us, we the workers of Eurusea!'

A rousing cheer went up as the gigantic cannons of the Floating Fortresses fired, a ship at a time, starting with the oldest, Staccato, and ending with the eight on the deck of the almighty Allegretto. Premier Kurchatov smiled at the crowd's cheers, turning to General Volkov, 'Comrade-General, start preparations immediately. I want all four Floating Fortresses currently on the slips ready within two months, and start production of D-83 bombs immediately, the standard type and fuse, enough for all major cities will be sufficient.'

Volkov nodded, 'It will be done, comrade Premier.'

'Have the fleet make ready, and begin production of the People's Rifle at the Zetzev works and the facility at Fort Stalin. We'll need another four and a half million on top of the existing stockpiles.'

'Yes, comrade Premier.'

Nicole smiled, 'It will be glorious, comrade.'

[Pity your refounding makes you look like a n00b, heh.

Er... I mean... tag.]

Dear sir,
We will very much enjoy watching you kill each other. We thank you for the wonderful entertainment.
Regards,

Violator

http://membres.lycos.fr/egsweb/e_gs_images/jeux/warcraft/120x140_image08.jpg

"war sucks... mhe, life goes on."
-Random Biotopian citizen.

The trees that whisper in the evening
Carried away by a moonlight shadow
Sing a song of sorrow and grieving
Carried away by a moonlight shadow
All she saw was a silhouette of a gun
Far away on the other side.
He was shot six times by a man on the run
And she couldn't find how to push through

Outskirts of Chopinburg, Eurusea

Pitor couldn't help but smile as Falsetto's gigantic outspars unfolded slowly, spreading out to cover three hundred feet of ground either side of the Leveller's immense body, the blades and separators and gouges on their outer surface slowly starting up, tearing the concrete-and-steel test towers apart and hauling the rubble and twisted metal into the gaping mouth of the machine's blast furnace.

Commissar Romanova seemed pleased as he watched, 'Excellent work, comrade, the Premier will be pleased.' The repairs had taken time and left Falsetto's enormous hull a patchwork of riveted and welded plates, not all the same colour or grade of metal, not all even steel. Most of the major components, the prefabricated concrete gun nests and emplacements for the bigger cannons on the Leveller's back, had already arrived and been refitted. A few work crew members had already died of radiation poisoning, especially those working close to the reactor that had exploded a few months ago. Falsetto more than any other Leveller would leave fallout as well as shattered ruins in her wake, everyone knew that, but as the oldest of the three Levellers it was a matter of pride that she should lead the second wave of the invasion force.

Next to her, the other Leveller, Arpeggio unfolded her outspars as well. Pitor smiled, 'Their hulls should be ready for full amphibious operations within a month, Commissar, they should be seaworthy by then.'

'Without a significant increase in mass that would adversely affect suspension?'

'It should make the mass of Falsetto around fifty-five thousand tons, Arpeggio a little less. No real change in combat profile or pushing power.'

'Excellent. Once their foul Navy crumbles into dust before the might of our Floating Fortresses, these mighty tanks will land at New Nicaea, and from their push their way up into the heart of the beast! Carry on, Comrade.'

Pitor smiled as he looked at the two Levellers again, 'God is great.'

Fort Lenin Army Barracks

Generally they used sandbags for bayonet practise, but with the threat of war imminent the powers-that-be had decided a more 'hands-on' kind of training was in order. The four men, subversives, all, dangled by their ankles from a makeshift scaffolding frame, tied and gagged, the slick of sand stained red underneath attesting to the many who had been there before them.

An officer sighed as a soldier stepped away, his bayonet covered in blood, 'Excellent, Kurtuzov.' He turned to the two burly dockworkers behind him, 'Replace target three again, will you?'

Chopinburg

'Stop that man! TRAITOR!' the Commissars fired several times after the running man as an IFV pulled around the corner behind them and sprayed the street with bullets, one catching the man in the arm and throwing him off-balance, leaving him to crash shoulder-first into a wall. He got up, ducking into a nearby alley, drawing his pistol, wincing at the bullet hole in his broken shoulder. He set what he had been carrying so tightly, his little daughter, down in the alley, 'Do not worry, Anya. They will not find you here. Run that way and hide in one of the bushes until they're gone, you'll be safe.'

She blinked, 'D-daddy? Where are you going?'

He sighed, 'I have to go away now. Never look for me. Now run!'

Anya ran, glancing behind her as gunshots lit up the dark alley.

"There will come soft rains,
And the earth will never know we were here..."

Pinko Taggy

The Streets will flow with the blood of the unbeliever!

-High Inquisitor Abdul Mesallah

The best defence is a good offence.

-Moe, the chef at wendy's

*Tag*

"As I was walking up the stairs,
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today,
dear God I wish he'd go away!"
--Author Unknown

Tag. Sorry, had to put a quote.

#tag#

Eurusean Federal Military Headquarters, Kosmar, Eurusea

The long path to the squat reinforced concrete headquarters building was flanked on both sides by some of Eurusea's most formidable ground hardware; each side of the path stood ten Infinity Cannons and seven giant Lucifer mortars, each a mass of welded and riveted steel, creaking gantries and rusting catwalks.

Except today on one side there were only six Lucifers.

Fields near Voskov town, Kesselstan, Eurusean Federation

Anya smiled, hugging the old farmer, 'Thank you! I'll try not to be any trouble.'

He nodded, 'It's no problem, little miss. You look like you could use a warm meal inside you, too.'

Anya nodded, 'I was kinda hoping you'd offer...Thank you, sir.'

She waved as he walked off, closing the barn door after a while. It had been difficult getting out of Chopinburg, but people had helped...It was strange how everyone she met tended to do as she asked; she guessed it was just because she always remembered to say please and thank-you. She lay down in the straw; her town was just a few days away now, and she'd be back in her own house, back with her family and safe from whatever was going on. She was sure her mother would be able to do something to stop the men who were chasing her.

She curled up, and dreamed of home.

Fields near Voskov town, 12:55am Eurusea Central Mean Time

Anya woke with a start as the cockerel crowed, a strange light coming from around the barn door. She quickly scampered up the ladder to the loft, peeking out of the window to make sure nobody was searching for her, blinking as she realised it was still night time. Looking up she was sure she could see the sun rising slowly over the rolling expanse of fields and hedges which was the only thing between her and the loving arms of her mother, brother, sister...

But then she realised what she was really seeing.

She felt her stomach turn as she watched the fireball fading as it rolled slowly into the sky. There was no sound, not a bird calling or a wolf howling, just a horrible, empty silence that framed the end of everything she had ever known.

She stared blankly, long after the fireball and the shimmering after-images in her eyes had faded, long after the blast wave had sounded the bell in the church up the road and rattled the timbers of the barn.

Gradually, the shock faded to understanding. Anya leaned forward, retching into the straw, shaking with sobs.

Lucifer mortar tank Vermilion, near Kaspersky Ford, Kesselstan, Eurusean Federation

The first thing every commissar who had served on Vermilion realised was that every picture of Gun Commander Nikolai Sestrogor was at least fifteen years old. The handsome young dark-haired man who young women pinned images of up on their walls had died a long time ago, replaced by the man in front of Commissar Tupovlev now.

Sestrogor was deathly pale, his eyes hollow and sunken. Even with his uniform it was obvious he was painfully thin, and bald under his officer's cap. He could barely talk above a pained, hoarse whisper, and walked slowly with the aid of a crutch.

Tupovlev blinked as Sestrogor slowly rolled his sleeve up, taking a razor blade from his pocket and slowly drawing it diagonally across a line of four scars there, moaning softly as the blood ran down his arm. He sighed, 'Twenty-five...Commissar, these light rounds are a waste of Vermilion's capabilities.'

Tupovlev blinked, 'Comrade, it was not my decision to...'

Sestrogor waved his had dismissively, 'I know. Popov, see if there are any further orders. I'll be in my quarters.'

'Yes, Comrade!'

Quarters of Gun Commander Nikolai Sestrogor, Lucifer Mortar Vermilion

Sestrogor winced as he slid the needle into his arm; it was hard to get hold of, but it managed to ease the pain. He let the syringe clatter to the floor as he finished, reminding himself to dispose of it before the Commissar paid him a call...

He sighed as he looked over his latest progress chart, and tossed it to one side, barely caring about what it said. No denying it now, then. They'd told him there was hope for a long time, but eventually, the doctors had told him what, in truth, he'd always known at the back of his mind.

Slowly but surely, Vermilion was killing him.

Tellegram to Eurusea:
Representitives of the Emperor owned monopoly the "Holy Oil" Company wish to offer the sale of oil to the Eurusea people in their upcoming war.
Present price is $30 a barrel, we await some sort of responce and hope we will be having deals with your country.

Tellegram to Syskeia:
Representitives of the Emperor owned monopoly the "Holy Oil" Company wish to offer the sale of oil to the Syskeian people in their upcoming war.
Present price is $30 a barrel, we await some sort of responce and hope we will be having deals with your country.


The salesman looked through his tiny spectacles and grinned.
"War is hell, but peace is bad for profits"
He grinned at the national motto and sent the telegrams away.

Mikhael frowned as he scanned the data, "What. The. Fuck?" It just didn't make any damn sense. Eurusea nuking and blowing the shit out of stuff was pretty much old-hat. They were insane, but... they seemed to be... chasing a little girl?

He shook his head. Must have gotten a bad batch he muttered.

Still... the bombs and troop movements seemed to be following this little girl. Following her exactly. Odd...

Then again, why would they send a damn army to kill one girl? He banged his head on the table a few times, trying to clear the adrenochrome from his head. Screw it. He tapped a few keys on his control panel and forwarded all the information to Elisa and Victor. Let them figure it out... I need to clear my head...

Chopinburg, Eurusea'Glorious workers of Eurusea! Today is a great day for justice!' she smiled, 'For too long we have let the evil crimes against our people by the foul heathen dogs of Syskeyia go unpunished! You all remember, comrades, how these vile monsters fired on a peaceful crowd of Reich citizens for daring to challenge their right to run a disgusting house of sin, comrades, a brothel, no less, on holy Reich soil? Do the workers of Eurusea tolerate such despicable brutality by the oppressive fascists?'
...
'Of course we do not! Those who murdered Eurusea's children have been sent to hell where they belong by the justice of Iesus Christi, but their masters, the demons who gave them their orders, where are they, comrades? Every day they sit in their ivory towers laughing at the plight of their oppressed workers, forced to serve their evil masters and worship their foul, blasphemous rat-goddess!

OOC: LOL

IC: :eek:

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyia

[Pity your refounding makes you look like a n00b, heh.

Er... I mean... tag.]
OOC: Yeah, any chance that can be fixed on these new forums? Once all the hubbub goes down that is.

IC: A small manilla envelope slid into place in front of the Heir, Ilyanovich, as he sat at his desk, silently filling out the days paperwork. Slicing it open with a nimble twist of his knife, its contents silently sunk towards darkened oak. Deftly whisking the small message out of the air, he read. Quasi-Communist Nation of Eurusea declares war on Syskeyia. Situation being monitered for advantage.

Sighing, the Heir tossed the message in the trash. Just another conflict.

This Winter was one of the coldest in living memory. Fat white flakes of snow drifted down from the bare, skeletal trees, blanketing the lawns and gardena with a frozen sheet. Glimpses of black on a background of white.

Lady Tanya Bryce, Governor of the Commonwealth of Chimaea, turned away from the high arched window, shivering slightly. She didn't mind cold weather, but this was something else. She wished she was in New Sydney where, for one thing, there was an abundance of interior heating.

The Bryce Manor was something else though. A remenant of a colder, formal and grandiose world when Chimaea was considered part of the British Empire, politicians were statesmen and she'd have been looking pretty beside her husband. No wonder the women's liberation movement had gained such popularity.

And definitely no heating, apart from the fire which cast a baleful glare over the large chamber. She knelt in front of it, letting the heat wash over her, her mind remembering the broken devastation in Street Island. She shouldn't have gone, really, but she'd been a soldier and had to know.

She grabbed the heavy poker from its rack beside the fireplace and stabbed at the blazing logs, trying to take her mind off the war. Sparks flew up and the fire crackled angrily.

There was a discreet knock on the door. She turned around and was greeted by the spotty visage of one of the younger clerks who worked to manage the estate, holding out an envelope. Lady Bryce's lips quirked in amusement and she said, "My face is up here, see?".

The boy blushed and looked at the floor. Rolling her eyes, she took the envelope, slit it open and read the contents. The next time she looked up, all amusement had vanished from her features.

"Get the car ready," she snapped, "And organise a plane to New Sydney."

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

New Sydney Parliament House

"Brothel?"

The various people around the table shrugged. Lady Bryce pressed play on controls inlaid into the desk, and watched as the rest of the speech was played.

When it finished, she looked around the room. "All right, so... talk to me."

The Foreign Minister sighed. "Syskeyia has communicated intention to take them on, and asked us for help."

"General Garrison, if war happens, can we help?"

The old General shrugged. "Yes. Militarily speaking, we're prepared to fight two major wars at once. Even with our peacekeeping obligations, Street Island and Colombia, we can muster a sizeable force. Specially if we call on the Allies. We have enough arms and ammunition from the previous preparations for Street Island. We might need to call from the Inactive Personnel lists though--in fact if the Reich choses to escalate, it'd be a certainty."

Lady Bryce turned to the Prime Minister. "Mr. Achefield. How does this pan out?"

"I recommend we try to negotiate first, though of course we will put the necessary forces in Syskeyia at the same time. We could try putting this through the IMC, though I doubt we'd get Eurusea to agree. We'll make the diplomatic rounds... My Lady?"

"Yes?"

"We don't have to get involved. The people are tired of war. As much as Chimaea dislikes the Reich..."

"We have an alliance, Prime Minister."

"This might cost us the next election."

Lady Bryce sighed. "If Syskeyia goes, what next? Knootoss? Baron? Iesus Christi invading Lavenrunz? We have to make a stand somewhere."

"Syskeya has become somewhat of an international pariah--"

"That doesn't stop making them our friends. I just hope Chimaea understands this..."

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

The Commonwealth of Chimaea protests the irresponsible declaration of hostilities by Eurusea upon Syskeyia. Such a war would be devastating to both sides and we request that round-table talks be held to negotiate a peaceful agreement on this issue.

~Lady Tanya Bryce
Governor of Chimaea

The Commonwealth of Chimaea protests the irresponsible declaration of hostilities by Eurusea upon Syskeyia. Such a war would be devastating to both sides and we request that round-table talks be held to negotiate a peaceful agreement on this issue.

~Lady Tanya Bryce
Governor of Chimaea

On behalf of my nation's people and the Federation of Eurusea as a whole I must question what irresponsible declaration is being referred to by the honoured representative of Chimaea. No declaration of war against any nation has been made by the Premier, and current troop movements, though large-scale, are merely part of scheduled deployments and routine policing actions in Eurusean provinces. Eurusea, like our comrades in The Reich, seeks only peace and understanding between nations, not bloodshed.

~Sergei Alexiev, International Affairs, on behalf of Comrade-Premier Kurchatov.

[OOC: In other words, the Premier's speech wasn't internationally broadcast. While you may well have heard it, referencing it implies spying]

The Wonderful nation of Vegana Congratulates their brothers in Eurusea for their succesful war against crime, hedonism and terrorism. A great fleet maneuver will be held to show the determination and will to keep crime out of the Reich. Our brothers in Infinite Loving will join us and show us the true way to perfection. Glory to God! GOD is Great!

OOC: what, even when all signals go off into space? ;) But yeah. Mmm, pizza.

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

We are pleased to hear about the internationally non-aggressive nature of your troop movements.

~Office of the Governor

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

General Garrison read the message and smiled. "They think we're fools."

Lady Bryce shrugged. "I'm sure that we are, General. But we're good fools, nonetheless. Announce joint military exercises between Syskeyia and Chimaea, and move the First Fleet there too. Contact the Baron Security Council discreetly... Sound out who's on our side."

Presidential Suite, Corporate Spire, The Most Glorious Hack
A Couple Days Before Current Events In Kesselstan

Elisa looked over the reports that she received from Mikhael, shaking her head slowly. If that addict wasn't so damn good...

Victor had likely received a copy, but God only knew if he was going to do anything about it, so, as usual, things were up to Elisa. A lot had changed since her dealings in Lavenrunz. Victor had seemed pleased with her performance at the UNMC meetings, and had promoted her to Director of Foreign Affairs. What she hadn't expected was to slowly morph into the administration's mouthpiece. Thinking back over the past few months, she realised that she was Speaker for the President in everything but title. Much like Victor had been before President Gibson had passed away. The similarities were pretty disturbing to her. And, of course, it ment less time with Sarah, but she did enjoy her job, and time could always be found.

The documents she had were rediculous, of course. The concept of Eurusea leveling one of its provinces to chase a little girl was beyond the pale. Still... it wasn't just drug-induced insanity on Mikhael's part. It really did look like that was how it was happening. The troop movements seemed a little odd, and chasing this girl certainly could explain the oddity. Of course, so could just assuming that Eurusea was nuts. Six of one, half-dozen of the other, really.

Still...

Elisa shook her head. It wouldn't hurt to look. The thought made her grin. Must be getting broody. But, she figured, she was right, it wouldn't hurt to check. They had more than enough satellites in orbit, nobody would much care if she 'borrowed' one of the stand-by ones. Hell, she even had clearance to do this sort of thing.

Telling her receptionist to hold her calls, she keyed in a series of codes onto her terminal, causing a small panal to flip over on the side of her desk. Inside was little more than a male plug. Looked kinda like what you'd use on a stereo system. Pulling it out, she carefully plugged it into the back of her neck.

The world faded from view.

Full neural interface into the Hack's network always seemed more "real" than reality to Elisa. Probably because it was a direct signal into her brain. Nobody was quite sure how things worked, but for some reason the Hack's neural interface required, at the very least, latent psychic ability. It was almost as if the signal traveled along the ability, or the ability was required to detect the interface. Lord knows they had tried with non-psychers. Luckily, it hadn't killed anybody, just given them holes in their necks.

The Hack's ratio of psycher to non was pathetic. Statistically, they pretty much didn't exist. The rate had been somewhere around one every five hundred million people. You could literally count the psychers for the whole nation on one hand, and only three had been found. Elisa was one, of course, one of the big IT people was the second, and some gropo in the army was the other. She rarely saw them. Maki was busy with army-things, and Alysa lived in GMC now.

A little gauge on the periphery of her field of vision showed how many people were currently accessing the network. Lots. With a thought, she switched it to the number of people accessing via neural interface. 8423. Her shimmering avatar grinned. Ever since Tindalos had been finished, the number of GMC Kitsune coming in had exploded. The stereotype was that they were crafty and shrewd. Excellent for business. Excellent for cut-throat capitalizm. Excellent for an environment like Tindalos. And with GMC's psycher rate being somewhere around 1:5 or 1:10 (she couldn't remember), well... the network was a more crowded place. Which was nice, especially since Psycher Only areas of the network had been opened up.

Anyway, all this was nice and all, but she couldn't screw around all day online, she had some work to do. Reaching up a silvery hand she pulled a menu out of thin air. Tapping a few icons, she removed most of the information panels that usually floated around her, pausing only as she noticed a new e-mail of interest, it can wait. Letting the menu vanish, she reached over and opened a door that didn't exist.

Stepping inside, she was bathed in light as the system verified that she was who she was supposed to be. Rather easy when the computer can just scan your brain. Thinking passwords was much more secure than typing or saying them. Passing the check in a fraction of a second, another door opened for her, letting her step into the nerve center of the Hack's network. A few quick steps took her to another brief security check and then she had full access to the Hack's spy network.

Patching into one of the satellites, and pulling up all information on Eurusea, she flexed her mind and turned her surroundings into her living room. A large plasma television displayed the information from the satellite, and a large stack of papers represented the reports. Skimming the reports, she'd occationally glance at the TV as the satellite moved to hover over Eurusea. She set aside the reports, as they didn't provide anything new, and picked up a remote for the television. Using it to control the satellite, she scanned over the countryside, eventually centering over... the outskirts of Voskov town, Kesselstan. Or, at least, that's what the crawl at the bottom of the screen told her. There were explosions in the distance, and she slowly watched over the area, zooming in bit by bit until she saw it.

Or rather, her. A little girl, probably five or six was... hiding in a barn. This made her pause. In a barn? Elisa reached over, pulling up a huge tech manual; the documentation for the satellite. After about five minutes, she decided that the tech was way over her head, but it involved some pretty funky optics and image reconstuction. Nevermind. After watching the girl sleep for a few minutes, Elisa sighed and left her 'living room'. Walking through the door led her to a rather plain room with a computer generated secretary.

"How can I help you, Ms. Day?" Her voice was nice, friendly, completely human, and completely unlike any human. Kinda odd, while being very reassuring. Which, of course, made it more odd.

"I need an extraction team."

"Specifics?"

"Make me a list of 10 possible teams, and/or combinations of operatives. I want a small fireteam, no more than five, for an extremely hazardous, completely volunteer mission."

"So, most likely to accept?"

"Yes."

"Anything else? Specific talents?"

"Yes... now that you mention it," Elisa nodded thoughtfully. "This is a stealth mission, so that's my primary concern. They're going into Kesselstan, so it won't be pretty."

"Airborn training, understood. Naval evac?"

"Er, probably. Actually, I also want you to pull up pre-existing Elite Ops teams too, especially Aug'd teams."

The secretary shimmered briefly, "Speaker or Presidential authorization required for Augmentation Elite Ops missions or member lists." Elisa sighed. She thought her rank and authorization code, not sure if it would work. The secretary shimmered again, "Access Granted, Speaker Day. Lists being compiled. You will be alerted once I'm finished."

Eurusean Office of Foreign Affairs

Sergei looked at the deployment notice as he typed, sighing as he tried to think of what to say. Two Floating Fortresses, Allegretto and Fortissimo... He smiled humourlessly, rested his cigarette on the edge of the glass ashtray on his desk, and began typing.

To the honourable representatives of Syskeyia and Chimaea

The People's Federation is aware of major military exercises off the Syskeyian coast. While we obviously do not think this is of any consequence, a small taskforce led by a minor capital ship* has been sent to monitor these exercises from international waters. We trust they will be allowed to do so without interference.

~Sergei Alexiev, International Affairs, on behalf of Comrade-Premier Kurchatov.

Glorious People's Revolutionary Taskforce Four, open sea

The sun set as the fleet moved slowly around the monolithic forms of the Floating Fortresses, the vast, stone-grey ships the very image of Eurusean invincibility. Above droned a trio of enormous Overlord ironclad airships.

In the growing darkness, the water behind several ships glowed faintly.

Remains of Voskov Town, Kesselstan

Commissar Ilyich sighed, checking the seals on his radiation suit as he walked through what was left of the town square. The only sounds now were odd clinks of cooling masonry and crackles of fire, though the second were fading. There wasn't much left to burn.

Already the air was filling with the sound of the Leveller Megalith unfolding her arms at the edge of the city, covering a thousand feet of ground either side of her. Thick, oily black smoke poured from several of her funnels as she made ready to move.

A soldier in a rad suit saluted to Ilyich as he walked past. He stood over a small, charred corpse, curled up with a larger one. Mother and daughter, I guess.

The man turned on his intercom, 'Comrade, is this her?'

Ilyich scowled, 'You think I can tell from this?'

Another soldier ran up, saluting quickly, 'Commissar Ilyich!'

Ilyich turned, 'What is it?'

'Comrade-General Gorloff has just arrived...He wants to speak to you immediately.'

Ilyich blinked, and followed the man to the edge of the city.

Vostok, Beringholm, Eurusea; 36 years earlier

The burning tank stopped in front of Karl's unit, the crew struggling out of the turret trying to extinguishing their flaming clothes as Leia opened fire with her machine gun, cutting them down and then turning to fire on the Eurusean troops further down the road. More buildings collapsed as missiles and shells screamed into them from the rocket batteries and artillery outside the town. Karl blinked as the nearest tank started to back up, 'We've done it, comrades! They're retreating!'

And then he looked past the town worker's council building, and saw why, a flash of lightning illuminating what was there through the pouring rain. 'What in God's name is that?'

It looked like a cross between a battleship and a factory was moving slowly towards the edge of the town, unfolding a pair of immense arms either side of it. Shells from the naval guns in the casemates on it's back began to crash into the town, heavy machine guns and heavy flaks raining fire on Karl's position, a shell snapping Leia's head back. She flopped to the ground, a pool of blood spreading slowly through the puddles as the rain hammered down.

As the thing contacted the edge of the town every building along the length of it's arms collapsed, torn to pieces by unpleasant-looking equipment on the arms. Karl felt sick to his stomach, 'My God...They're going to tear the whole town down...'

A speaker on the thing crackled into life, 'This is Leveller Megalith to local militia! Surrender, you HAVE no other option!'

A lot of Karl's squad ran, those that remained firing a few half-hearted shots after them.

Milan sighed, reloading her submachine gun, 'What do we do now, comrade?'

Karl shook his head, 'Pray for a miracle.'

Across the square, Borisko shook the radio transmitter as the ground began to shudder, 'Something about a 'new weapon' heading this way. Sound like some kind of tank. Hand me a Panzerfaust, comrade.'

Chestomir blinked, 'But comrade, they said it was big...'

Borisko smiled, 'Come on now. How bad can it be?'

He leaned out to take his shot just as the Leveller tore down every building on the opposite side of the square, a line of serrated conveyors hauling wreckage inside the machine for God knew what reason, cannons blazing on it's front face. Smoke and flame wreathed the giant machine from where it had torn down the refinery near the edge of the town.

Borisko ducked back, his face white. Chestomir nudged him, 'Comrade, what is out there?'

Borisko coughed, realising neither him nor anyone else would survive the night, 'Comrade...It is the devil.'

Edge of Voskov Town, Kesselstan

Ilyich cursed at one of the other Commissars, 'Sokolov, what the hell is the commander of the Spetznatz doing here?'

Sokolov blinked, 'I don't know, comrade! These orders came from above my head.'

'Find out, or your dick will be above your head!'

Sokolov scampered off quickly. Ilyich sighed, walking into Megalith's shadow. Looking up at the huge machine, which he knew to really be the first Leveller despite the propaganda about Falsetto. Now her ageing tracks were crusted with rust, not one part without patchwork repairs, riveted and welded steel and iron covering damaged areas.

Gorloff waited behind her, the man covered in scars and with one eye an odd red colour, though he was in no hurry to explain either. He glanced disdainfully at the town, '30-16 isn't there. Rip it all down.'

Ilyich blinked, 'But sir, how can you be so...'

One of the men with him clapped a hand on Ilyich's shoulder, 'He is sure, comrade. That is all you need to know.'

All the windows remaining on both sides of the road smashed as, with a screech of protesting metal, Megalith started moving. Gorloff sighed, muttering to himself, 'The second generation of us...' he sighed, 'That idiot Antenov...'

Residence of Comrade-Premier Nicole Kurchatov, Chopinburg, Eurusea

Nicole smiled from her chair, sipping a cup of hot cocoa and stroking the kitten in her lap from time to time. 'Please, comrade-doctor Antenov, explain why this situation has occurred.'

Antenov scowled. He hated being away from the Biopreparat at the best of times, and this was hardly the best of times. 'Comrade-Premier, it was felt that 30-16 would allow us an important insight into the psychic menace that plagues our country. By dissecting the prototype's brain, we could gain valuable insight into how the phenomenon occurs and ways to cure or inhibit it...At very least, we could discover identifying signs that would allow us to effect a final solution to the psychic problem.'

Nicole smiled sweetly, 'Did I or the late doctor Krushchev authorise any of this, comrade-doctor?'

Antenov blinked, 'Comrade, Krushchev was a traitor, he...'

'...Was project supervisor, comrade-doctor. Did you not think of running your authorisation by him? Do I have to remind you that the prototype was his daughter?'

'Comrade-Premier, I felt that the needs of the people outweighed the needs of one little girl.'

'And also the stated aims of a program that has taken forty years to produce a truly useful prototype of military grade? You have wasted huge amounts of state funding and now the prototype is missing, possibly dead. I do not think doctor Krushchev was the traitor.' She smiled, and Antenov blinked as he heard Nicole's voice in his head, 'Do you?'

Antenov backed away quickly, 'Wh-what is this?'

Nicole smiled, 'I would call it irony.' She gestured to one of the Commissars present, 'Take him to Fort Stalin and have him dissected, see if you can discover the source of stupidity.'

She turned to General Volkov as Antenov was dragged out, 'I trust you can give me a better reason for the deployment in Kesselstan?'

Volkov nodded, 'Yes, comrade-premier. Voskov had a known resistance cell, we could not afford for 30-16 to get into their hands.'

Nicole nodded, 'Indeed. You exercised sound judgement in dealing with such a threat. Marx be praised.'

[*OOC note: 136 warships including 45 capital ships in this 'small taskforce.' There are, however, no amphibious craft or landing ships present.]

Earth Orbit

The hive watched. Syskeyia had been a primary object for reconnaissance since they had left SATO... the 'Nut Catholics' (Althena) being considered a 'possible threat' just in case they found something intriguing in the bible that could tend to turn them against DA.

Now, the hive was watching some other things, too.

Shiny.

Yes. Strange vessels, though.

Strange? Maybe, but still... I mean, literally shiny.

A psychic chuckle in orbit, a faint echo not reaching further than a few dozen kilometers.

Certainly worth observing. And heck, I like their obsession with nuclear... Things.

True enough. Well, we will see. I don't want to know what would happen to Syskeyian fishermen if they...

Their cruel mutations would BURN! Heathens, punished by god!

Another chuckle. It was certainly an amusing day.

Taggishness, and subscribing is for whiney liberals

OOC: 136 warships on a thriving budget? So what, this means that the Chimaean First Fleet would have to be like 500 ships strong for it to match up? :p

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

We will of course not interfere with any ship in International Waters; however our exercises might extend into international waters. Please be aware of this and allow for your monitoring vessels to keep some distance, as live ordinance will be used in some exercises.

~Chimaean Foreign Office

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

First Fleet, Syskeyian Waters

Admiral Isobel Wilder was not a happy women. The First Fleet had been forming part of the bloackade of the West African States when CAF had redirected it to Syskeyia under a Yellow Alert. The cover story was ludicrous, as always--a joint exercises deal between Baron and Syskeyia. In the current political climate this was a very bold statement from the Governor directly to those who played the international game.

What made the Admiral uneasy was that this entire thing could blow out to be bigger than first suspected. If the Reich stopped playing for the proxy wars and directly joined in, an attack upon the Allies would have disastrous consequences--specially since the military powerhouse of Baron, Clock Hill, was directly involved. A war could get nuclear fast. And she was old enough to remember the one and only nuclear exchange Baron had gone through.

OOC: 136 warships on a thriving budget? So what, this means that the Chimaean First Fleet would have to be like 500 ships strong for it to match up? :p

OOC: Assuming you want to match Eurusea for having a level of militarisation so high it kinda screws the economy over, sure...Economy != Military spending [or budget], it's overall quality of the entire economy. By the two billion mark I could have a frightening economy if I wanted one.

OOC: Sheej. Why don't you look at Eurusea's post history before making stupid comments. Hell, look at the posts in this thread. They've got a huge army, a crap economy, and it shows. Or did you miss the random meltdowns when the Reich invaded Resi?

Neural Net, The Most Glorious Hack
Still A Couple Days Before Current Events In Kesselstan

Elisa was back in GMC, sitting with Sarah at a nice little cafe, sipping a double espresso, watching the people walk by, not saying much to each other, just enjoying the company, and the chance to relax from their hectic schedules. Elisa turned and watched a few hover cars hum by before turning to Sarah, only to find Sarah gone, replaced with the Administration System's Avatar. "Speaker Day?"

Elisa sighed, waking up from her lucid dream, the cafe fading away to show the plain white room that represented the Administration System. "Yes?"

"I have found what I believe to be the perfect team for your mission. It is a fireteam of four Kitsune, all Augmentated Elite Operators."

"Oh?"

The avatar nodded, "Yes. They transfered from GMC with the opening of Tindalos. Considering the perliminary information we received from Capt. Maki's augmentation, they were offered an opportunity for a similar project. They accepted and have been fully augmented."

Elisa ponders this for a moment, "So... they got the wired reflexes, gun links and all?"

"Yes. Also, this is a completely wireless system, so that they can pass as normal. It also allows for communication between team members. Finally, the transmitions are encoded based on the subjects' DNA. It would require enormous resources to crack."

Elisa smiled, "Good... have them contact me via the network in a few hours."

"Of course, Speaker."

Elisa opens another nonexistant door and leaves the Admin System, walking down a short corridor, and stepping into the control system for Section 3. Pausing to scan over a list of names, she finds her way over to Mikhael's subsystem, and effortlessly accesses it. Pulling a menu out of the air in front of her, she keys a few commands, and appears on Mikhael's terminal in, essentially, a pop-up window.

In the real world, Mikhael was more than a little surprized to see Elisa's face appear on his terminal. After a few seconds of fumbling, he figures out that it's really her, and he then stares dumbly for a few moments before finally speaking, "Er... Ms. Day?"

Her image smiles thinly, "Yes, I need closer monitoring of the events in Kesselstan. I need you to track troop movements and that little girl. I'd like one satellite tracking her continuously, and the other keeping an eye on the troops and vehicles."

"Any particular reason?"

"Essentially because I think you were right. There's something about her, and I'm going to find out what it is."

Mikhael's "yes ma'am," was barely heard by Elisa as she backed out of his terminal. Returning to her 'office', she resumed reviewing the information on Eurusea's latest actions. What a mess.

The Brushed Tail, Tindalos Megalopolis, The Most Glorious Hack

The Brushed Tail was a rather low class joint, kinda like what one would find in the lower levels of the Warrens over in Chiba. The place was full of Kitsune. Hell, at times it seemed like Tindalos was full of Kitsune. And Nekos. Tindalos had a high level of immigrants, especially from GMC. Nekos were draw to it because it was new, Kitsune because of the plethora of business opportunities. It was something of a stereotype to say that Kitsunes took to business and were quite shrewd managers, but stereotypes were often based in reality, after all.

At a table, roughly in the middle of the bar, sat four Kitsune in fatigues; a male and three females. Anyone passing by would hear a reasonably banal conversation about military exercises, weapon scematics, and general things you'd expect soldiers to talk about. If one was augmented, and had the proper key, they'd hear a completely different conversation.

The male frowns into his beer, So who the Hell is 'Elisa Day', and why does she want to talk to us?.

The female to his left, talking about her first airborne jump rolls her eyes, Christ, Fusayoshi, don't you keep up on current events? She's the Foreign Affairs Director.

Fusayoshi shrugs, Feh.

The female across from Fusayoshi orders another round, So where are we meeting her?

The first female tilts her head back, draining her beer, The double-N, Uyo.

Uyo tips the barmaid, starting to tell a joke, Ah. I assume we'll be told where, exactly?

The third female laughs at the joke, "That reminds me of another. A Neko, a Naga and a human walk into a bar..." I would assume to, yeah. Actually, we should find a secure terminal.

"Oh, we've heard that one a million times, Ieyoshi," Fusayoshi says, laughing. The army wired one up for us at the hotel.

The female across from Fusayoshi smirks, "Never stopped you from telling your lame-ass jokes." Okay, let's skip the last round and get going.

Uyo waves off the waitress, "Nevermind that last round." She throws a few GMC pounds on the table, still not having gotten fully used to using the Hack's currency. Ya, Futami. Let's jet. The four Kitsune stand up, saying goodbye to a few regulars, and head back to the hotel.

The Most Holy and Omnipotent Emperor Sohi is terribly interested, and slightly intimidated by the current events between the nations. He shall watch on with baited breath.

International waters near Syskeyia

The Eurusean fleet came to a halt, the huge Overlords circling above them. Klaxons sounded, crewmen moving to battlestations quickly, several ships having guns crews climbing into radsuits before moving to their sections.

High above the fleet, Boris closed the belt feed unit on his machine gun, kicked the ammunition bin door closed and lit a cigarette, reaching for his binoculars. He scanned the horizon out of the open hatch of the Overlord, taking a drag and pressing the button on his intercom, 'This is position fifteen, starboard side. Enemy fleet sighted on the horizon.'

'Copy that fifteen, stand by.'

'Acknowledged. Fifteen out.'

Abandoned area #34, formerly Kursk Town, 20 miles southeast of Voskov Town, Kesselstan

Anya rested her head on Natalya's shoulder as the cart bumped along the old road, 'So, um, how come you weren't in town?' she managed, feeling the tears well up at the memory of the immense ball of fire she knew she'd never be able to forget.

Natalya sighed, 'My father sent me to the People's Farming Supply Depot to fetch some food, for us and the farm...This cart and this horse is all I have now, Anya.' She pulled an old Mosin-Nagant rifle out from under her seat, loading it carefully, smiling at Anya's curious expression, 'For the wolves.'

Anya nodded a little, 'Um, where are we going?'

Natalya frowned. She was a few years older than Anya, the daughter of one of the dairy farmers on the outskirts of the village who Anya had first met in the town square. They barely saw each other, but Anya would still call her a friend.

Anya blinked, 'Um, what is it?'

Natalya sighed, 'The sign...I can't read.'

Anya squinted a little, her eyes still rather blurry, 'Um...It's really faded, says, um...Kursk?'

Natalya nodded, 'I thought it was. Come on, we can hide here until they've finished whatever they're doing here. You'll be safe.' She flicked the reigns, the horse whinnying and walking slowly forwards, 'Come on.'

Fort Lenin Army Base, Kesselstan

'And you are absolutely positive about this information, Comrade?'

The young private nodded quickly, 'The witness said he saw a girl fitting 30-16's description heading southeast from the town, Comrade-General!'

Kaminsky stroked his beard, 'Only thing in that direction is old Kursk town, she must be trying to shelter there.' He grinned to himself, muttering, 'The game is afoot' then turning to one of the men with him, 'Comrade, contact the army unit, tell them I need a search and recovery team with APCs and main battle tanks. Kasparov!'

'Yes, Comrade-General?'

'Warm up Kirov, I'll take personal command of this operation.'

Kaminsky started walking over to the corner of the field which housed the giant ironclad's mooring mast, stepping into the boarding lift with the rest of his bridge crew. The Overlord's propellers started one by one, the huge airship slowly moving off.

Abandoned area #34

As Anya's eyes finally started to focus normally again she looked around the town they were moving slowly through. It was strange; it looked to have been abandoned in a hurry, cars still in the streets, overgrown with weeds, empty pushchairs by the sides of the roads slowly rusting and falling apart. She turned to Natalya, 'What is this place?'

Natalya glanced around herself, at the shopfronts slowly being overrun with ivy, the feral cats that glanced up at them through the windows of what looked like a butcher's shop, the corroded tram covered in flaking paint and lichen that stood in the middle of the road. 'My father once told me about this place...They call them ghost towns. This place used to be a mine town...Look, the pit head gear's still standing over there.' Anya looked, noticing the skeletal tower with pulleys at the top above the church spire.

Anya blinked, 'What happened?'

Natalya shrugged, 'Seam got mined out, I guess. Dad said they packed everyone into boxcars and moved them to a new seam, took the town name with them and just left this place. He said it's been like this for eighteen years, at least.'

Nettles and brambles blocked off a lot of the paths and alleyways, birds chirping in the morning warmth. All the propaganda posters had long rotted into nothing, the great speaker towers silent, their mouths clogged with cobwebs and climbing plants covering their posts. Except for the songs of birds and grasshoppers, everything was still and peaceful; it was almost as if Eurusea had never been there at all.

Anya smiled, 'You know, I like it here.'

They passed the town barracks, the roofs of the buildings caved in and the walls crumbling, filing cabinets lying in the street next to the administration building. Natalya paused to a moment, 'I think the old railway depot is probably safest.'

Anya nodded, 'Thank you, Natalya.'

Natalya smiled, 'Oh come on, what are friends for?'

At the railway depot, Natalya moved the cart into one of the old engine sheds, leading her horse to a patch of grass nearby. Anya blinked at the huge locomotives in the sidings rusting apart, collapsed remains of coal and ore trucks behind them. The lines were all but covered in weeds and plants, odd containers and long-toppled cranes rearing up here and there. Natalya led her up to the signal box, smiling, 'Well, the stove's still intact, shouldn't be any problem finding wood around here...' she opened the cupboard next to it, and grinned, 'And still a full box of coal.'

Anya rand her hand along the window ledge absent-mindedly, yelping slightly as the rotten and worm-eaten wood came away in her hand, dozens of woodlice skittering across the floor as she dropped it. Natalya smiled, 'It's not exactly paradise, but it should do to hide out for a few days, right?' Anya smiled, nodding.

It was dark when they were woken again by a droning like a swarm of angry hornets. Natalya blinked, looking out the window at the cloudless, moonlit night, staring at the slowly shifting searchlight beams near the edge of the town, 'An Overlord?'

Overlord Airship Kirov

Kaminsky grinned as the lines began to drop along the length of the Overlord, black-armoured troops in sealed armour sliding down them to the ground, 'Right, search each house in turn, and let's see if we can't get this over with before that Red Commando team shows up. Be careful and don't use flamethrowers, Comrade-Premier Kurchatov wants the prototype alive.'

'Yes, Comrade-General.'

'Get a spotter with a radio up on that water tower and a sniper with him.' Kaminsky crossed his arms, looking out through the windscreen one last time as the steel blast shutters closed, 'Standby on all gun positions and charge the particle cannon. We may need it.'

Abandoned area #34

The tanks stopped at the edge of the town as the Overlord moved ahead of them, searchlights sweeping over the town. Natalya ducked as one swept past the window of the signal box, 'It's you, Anya, isn't it? They're after you.'

Anya nodded, tears forming at the edges of her eyes, 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...'

Natalya hugged her, 'I won't leave you, I promise.'

http://members.optusnet.com.au/a_marrington/ns/pantocratoria.jpg

TO: Comrade-Premier Nicole Kurchatov, Chopinburg, Eurusea
FROM: HIH the Rt Hon the Imperial Chancellor the Most Pious Princess Irene, New Rome, Pantocratoria

Madam Premier,

Be advised that the Imperial Government regards the Syskeyian Republic as a close ally, and that Pantocratoria thoroughly intends to honour her long standing alliance. Pantocratoria intends to assist Syskeyia in her own defence should hostilities break out between her and any other power, including Eurusea. It is our most earnest and sincere hope that you will reconsider your apparent course of action, and seize the chance to keep the peace while you may.

Sincerely,

Princess Irene
Imperial Chancellor of the Holy and Most August Empire of Pantocratoria

OOC: This transmission is encoded, and while its interception and decryption is certainly possible, it would be difficult for anyone without future tech and/or an insider in Pantocratoria's Imperial High Command. Modern tech nations like Pantocratoria would find that it would take so long to decrypt the transmission that by the time they had done so, the information would be of no use.

IC:

MOST SECRET - HIGHEST PRIORITY

TO: Commander, Syskeyian Forces
FROM: Imperial High Command, New Rome

Be advised that due to the deployment of the Imperial Navy in the Excalbian Isles, it will be exceedingly difficult for us to land troops to assist in the defence of Syskeyia. We are willing to commit the Infantry Legion of the Exarchate of New Jerusalem (some 15,000 personnel including support staff), the Imperial Equites Legion (some 8,000 personnel, 2,000 tanks, and 350 other vehicles), and the Fourth Provincial Infantry Legion (some 12,000 personnel including support staff) to assist in the defence of Syskeyia. We request that arrangements be made to run the Eurusean blockade and escort our troop transports to Syskeyia. We are unable to provide an adequate escort of our own at this time. We believe that the Eurusean navy is unlikely to simply allow us to land our troops without an escort.

Presidential Suites, Corporate Spire, Chiba City, The Most Glorious Hack
Before Anya's Arrival In Kursk

Elisa was just about to jack into the Neural Network when her direct line from Section 3 started to ring. Muttering in frustration, she grabbed it, her voice short and terse, "Director Day, talk fast."

"Elisa," it was Mikhael's voice, "Bit of news."

"Gimmie."

"Well, first of all, the girl's on the move. When I last checked she was heading to a ghost town. The problem is, it seems that Eurusea is mobilizing even more. They are definately after this girl. There's an Overlord on the move."

Elisa blinked, "Mikhael, pretend for a moment that I don't keep up on the ships used by every crackpot communist out there."

"Right, right... it's a... well... hm. You familiar with GMC's Skyhammer?"

"Vaguely..."

"It's like that. It's a bloody great ironclad airship. It can make hash out of damn near anything."

"..." Elisa paused, her jaw snapping shut, unable to think of an appropriate responce.

"There's more," Mikhael didn't wait for her responce, he just powered on through, "One of Syskeyia's allies, er..." the ruffling of papers could be heard, "A nation called 'Pantocratoria' made a random give-peace-a-chance speach to Eurusea and then sent an encoded message to Syskeyia. We snapped up part of it and gave it to Anesca to play with. She said it had something to do with troop movement."

"Best guess?"

"They're demonstrating that they mean what they said, and are moving to help their ally. Shouldn't affect us in the slightest, but it might antagonize Eurusea."

"Okay..." Elisa let the new information tumble around in her head a moment before continuing, "Right. Forward all this new info, including what Anesca managed to translate to my double-N queue. I'm jacking in now, so just send any updates to me there, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Elisa hung up the phone, and promptly plugged herself in to the network.

Elisa Day Secure Construct Room, Neural Network, The Most Glorious Hack

The shimmering avatars of Elisa, Fusayoshi, Futami, Ieyoshi, and Uyo were sitting in a den-like room with nice oak walls and soft leather chairs. There was an ornate glass and iron table in the middle of the room, their chairs circled it. Elisa smiled as she looked at the four Kitsune, glancing at each of them in turn before getting down to business.

"I'm glad you agreed to meet with me," Elisa said softly, "I've got a rather... difficult mission that I'd like you to undertake."

Fusayoshi nodded, "All we were told was that it's an extraction."

"It is. There's a small girl being chased by the military of Eurusea. We don't know what's so special about her, but they've mobilized and are burning their way towards her. Time is running short, so if you're going to take this mission, you'll need to leave as soon as possible." She reached up and pulled four portfolios out of thin air and tossed one to each of the Kitsune. "This will give you the basics." The four Kitsune looked over the portfolios quietly, each pondering the implications of accepting a mission, and the ramifications of not accepting.

Futami was the first to respond, her frown plainly evident, "I'm not so sure about this..."

Ieyoshi shook her head, "No, we can't leave this poor girl to fend for herself! There's no way she can get away from those people. We're trained for this sort of thing, she isn't."

Fusayoshi nodded slowly, "Ieyoshi has a point. Not only are we trained, but we're aug'd as well and there's our genetic advantages. I think we've got the best chance."

Futami continued to frown, "I'm sorry, but this is suicide. And furthermore..."

She was cut off as a door forced its way into existance on one of the walls, all five jumping in surprize; this was a secure room. With a slight click the door opened and a small girl, about 8 or 9 years old stepped in, her face serious and her yellow eyes showing her determination; unlike the five others in the room, her avatar didn't shimmer in the slightest, as if she was physically in the network. The door closed, vanishing against the wall, and a smaller chair formed up from the floor. The girl sat down in it and looked the four woman and the man over.

She turned to Elisa, "Sorry for being so rude, Miss Day, but I'm rather interested in this mission."

Elisa nodded, "It's okay, Anesca." She turned to the startled Kitsune, "It's okay. This is Anesca, she's essentially the Hack's firewall. You've probably heard of her sister, Shiala." The Kitsune nodded in recognition as Elisa continued, "Go ahead, Anesca."

The girl nodded, smiling a little, "Thank you. As you can imagine, I can closely relate to the thought of a young girl being chased by a force that she can't see or fully comprehend. I've looked over all the intel, and I'm positive that there's something special about her that the Eurusean government wants, and I doubt that it will be good for her. I feared that you wouldn't want to take this mission, and I've come here to try and convince you to take the mission."

Fusayoshi, Uyo, and Ieyoshi all turned and leveled a gaze at Futami, who sighed and nodded, "All right, all right, let's take the mission. Fusayoshi's got a point: we're far more likely to succeed than she is."

Anesca smiled happily, "Thank you!" She jumped up and hugged Futami, and then the other three Kitsune in turn before hopping into her chair and sitting cross legged. "I've got some updated information for you, and we can just run the briefing from here." She blinked her eyes a couple times and the room turned into a standard war room with a large map of Kesselstan hovering in the middle.

"Okay, the girl appears to be heading towards what was Kursk..."

Syskeyian Waters, the Gulf of Syskeyia
Aboard the battleship R.S.S. Joanna von Sachshausen
"Hey, [Chimaean warship]!" shouted the young sailer Thomas Khunjab as he unloaded a Colt .45 full of blank rounds at a nearby Chimaean warship.

Well, we technically are doing naval exercises, the sailor though to himself as the ten carrier battlegroups sailed with the Chimaean First Fleet.

Portus Navalis, Syskeyia

It was a monstrous fleet.

Eighteen Expeditionary Strike Groups, each with numerous warships, submarines and other craft, made their way from Syskeyia to Pantocratoria.

Commands each ESG was a Wasp-class assault ship. Not that the Pantocratorians needed any more troop carriers, but the Wasps' aircraft could be of some use, and anyone could appreciate a little more space...

Sachinwung AFB, Syskeyia
The crew of the B-52H "Fat Cat" had just finished strapping in.

He's in, check, check, check, check, check, thought "Fat Cat"'s pilot, Flight Officer Bernard Ramathan thought to himself. Even the tail gunner (Air Force Command still refused to give up those things) was strapped in and ready to go.

Bernard and his co-pilot than powered up the flying behemoth's eight turbofan engines, and "Fat Cat" made its way into the air.

They were not alone, however. Ten entire B-52 squadrons, filled to the brim with Western Asian EMP cruise missiles, were to target the Eurusean fleet. The Syskeyian had intercepted the propoganda boardcast from Chopinburg and knew what the Eurusean government's true intentions were. Not long after flying inot the air, "Fat Cat" and her fellow Stratofortesses had picked their targets and were ready to fire.

Now all they had to do was wait for Eurusea to act...

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyia

Floating Fortress Fortissimo

The radio operator blinked at his readout, nudging the operator next to him, 'Comrade, are you seeing this?'

The man nodded, turning to General Zaitsev, 'Comrade General, we have a squadron of aircraft approaching our position, they look like heavy bombers.'

Zaitsev scowled, 'Order the deck crews to load all main guns with MLSOM rounds and target the lead aircraft's projected flightpath, tell Allegretto to do the same. The shrapnel will take care of the rest. Vasilev!'

'Yes, Comrade-General?'

'Send the following to the lead aircraft; "We are in international waters you imperialist bastard, return to your base immediately. If you continue your approach we will have no choice but to assume hostile intent." Repeat until they respond. Lebedev!'

One of the other radio operators turned.

'Send the following to the Premier's office; "Enemy bombers have taken off and are heading towards our location, presume them to be hostile."'

Eurusean Office of Foreign Affairs

Sergei grinned, perching his cigarette on the rim of the ashtray and starting to type. The Premier was already giving a speech to the nation about the dreadful imperialist threats to their peaceful exercises, even as three more Floating Fortresses, Vibrato, Obbrigato and Staccato with full escort groups and the Overlord Largo sailed to reinforce the fleet off the Syskeyian coast.

To the honourable Representative of Syskeyia,

I must admit confusion at your apparent threat towards a peaceful formation of vessels in international waters. I find myself at a loss to explain to myself the reason for this threat; it would seem to an observer such as myself that Syskeyia believes it owns the seas, though clearly such cannot be true. However, since the reason also eludes our glorious Premier I must demand an explanation of this deployment.

~Sergei Alexiev, International Affairs, on behalf of Comrade-Premier Kurchatov.

Sergei pulled the typed sheet out, checked it carefully for errors then put his glasses in his pocket, slid the sheet into a message container and placed that in the despatch tube, then allowed himself a sip of vodka.

Abandoned Area #34

The search team was slowly working it's way towards the railway depot, methodically kicking in rotten doors and searching every building in turn. A tank parked at the intersection had set up a searchlight on top of it's turret, and Natalya had to duck every time it came close to the window of the signal box. She could feel the drone of the Overlord's propellers now, the huge airship hovering over the town, heading right towards them. She flicked the bolt back and forward on her rifle, knowing full well the futility of trying to use it.

Anya stared at her, tears streaming down her cheeks now, 'Please, Natalya, just run. You don't have to stay with me.'

Natalya smiled, 'I already said I'm not leaving you.' She blinked as she heard footsteps on the stairs, pointing her rifle at the door.

[OOC: And this is where you come in, Hack]

Signal Box, Abandoned Area #34
Current time

The handle to the door jiggled, the lock resisting the cautious efforts. A soft murmur could be heard on the other side, and then the hinge-pins slowly shuddered and carefully rised up of their own volition, one at a time until all three hovered efortlessly in the air. The door was pushed open from the wrong side.

30,000 Feet Up, Just Outside Abandoned Area #34
An Hour Ago

The Formless Spawn glided lazily over Kesselstan, the four Kitsune looking out the side door, respirators on their faces to keep them from fainting due to lack of oxygen. The Formless Spawn was a specially created plane, designed to bring soldiers into enemy teritory for HALO jumps without being noticed. While designed with some stealth in mind, it was primarily used for its ability to glide for miles and miles. They had actually come over the area at an outrageous 50,000 feet before cutting engines and slowly gliding in a circle as its altitude dropped to a useful altitude.

Fusayoshi nodded to the other three Kitsune; talking was impossible in this situation, but their neural links worked and were online. Now or never, team. Let's go!

The four Kitsune jumped from the Formless Spawn, flying, or rather falling, gracefully, the wind rushing past their faces as they followed the readouts provided by their augmentations: velocity, altitude, brief vital signs of team members, and a little reminder of the maximum and minimum altitudes for parachute deployment.

As a one, all four Kitsune deployed their parachutes, just above the minimum safe level, guiding themselves to an small area outside their target that seemed to be free of goosestepping commie thugs. Touching down silently, they quickly buried their parachutes and respirators, taking a quick inventory of supplies, before slinking off towards the compound. They didn't seem too thrilled with the weapons they had; the loss of 'smart weapons' greatly reduced their effectiveness, however, being found with such weapons would doubtlessly be a Horribly Awfull Thing.

Signal Box, Abandoned Area #34
Current time

A soft, feminine voice floated through the partially open door, "Don't shoot..." Two furred hands appeared in the doorway, palms up and empty. A short, black Kitsune dressed in all black civilian clothes slowly stepped into the room. She had a pack on her back, and a few odds and ends on her belt. She smiled, "I'm here to get you out of here." She smiles at Anya, "My name's Ieyoshi."

Daniel sat in his chair overlooking the city beneath him. Yes, decpite the faqt that Danneland City was mainly located above the clouds due to all the highscrapers he still looked down on the city. Just as Hitler did all those years ago, by building higher towers than the church's, so did he.
He and he alone was the ruler. Though, that had not been a factor before, had suddenly arised as his greatest concerne.

Veers, his right-hand man looked at him. "Your shot sir"
Daniel nodded and slowly raised his arm, "do what you got to do"
Veers inserted the needel in Daniels arm and extracted the red substance into his vain. "The current situation with Eurusea si--"
-"How did we obatin this information?" Daniel cut in.
-"We did as we always do, the Ghost Troops that always monitor the electric highways intercepted one of the hacks spy-reports."
Daniel turned towards Veers, "Have I not told you to stay away from their networks?! We do not! want them on our tails, less in our necks!"
Veers nodded "it was just a coincidence, one of our troops followed a strange lead wich he thought to be rebellic ideas, before he knew it he was deep in Hack electronic territory"
-"Why wasn't I informed of this?"
-"You just did, I got the information only moments ago"
Daniel nodded.
-"Pray to whatever god you se fit that they didnt discoverd it, and prepare to write a long, long excuse to the Hack. More to it, execute the trooper"
-"but he is one of the be--"
-"One of the best would have discovered that he was somewhere were he shouldnt be"
-"yes sir.. so what do we do with Eurusea?"
-"fuck them, fuck them all"
Veers blinked. "what?"
Daniel looked him deep into his eyes. "For to long have we kneeled towards these democratic and communits whores!. Peace.. what is peace worth when we over and over again have to concider the acts of those bastards! Fuck them I tell you, fuck them all"
Veers didnt quite know how to react, engaging a war with Eurusea could mean that Danneland got stuck in the middle of a conflict with huge forces on each side. Resulting in devestating blows on Danneland.
"But.. what if we get attacked sir? I mean, it wouldnt be the first time Danneland recieved nukes on its cities, are you sure that our people would have the strenght to live another war? Another genocide on its neighbours, family and friends?"
Daniel took a deep breath, "These are my orders, I do not need to excuse myselfe to you or anyone! I alone have lead this country through numerous world wars, genocides on our people. Weapons of massdestruction have litteraly rained over my head. But still I stand strong, STRONG WITH MY PEOPLE! and my PEOPLE WITH ME!"
Veers nodded, "your orders sir?"
-"Mobilize the troops, get them ready to drop from space. Make the fleet launchready, make it happend.. now!"
Veers walked out of the room and gave out the orders.

And so the weels of war turned again in Danneland, death smiled as he saw new souls to be harvested. Troops was informed and sent up into various troops ships in space, from where they would be launced down back on earth.


OOC: Hack, sorry, I know your security system is allmost impossible to break, and snapping up a piece of spy-intell is even harder. But I realy want in on this one. If you want to, feel free to have discovered the "intruder" and harvest any intell from me.
Eurusea hope it allright, just say no if you dont want me in this 'n I'll be gone.

OOC: Cruise missiles have a range of 500-600 miles, so the B-52s are hundreds of miles from your fleet.

IC:

To the honourable Representative of Syskeyia,

I must admit confusion at your apparent threat towards a peaceful formation of vessels in international waters. I find myself at a loss to explain to myself the reason for this threat; it would seem to an observer such as myself that Syskeyia believes it owns the seas, though clearly such cannot be true. However, since the reason also eludes our glorious Premier I must demand an explanation of this deployment.

~Sergei Alexiev, International Affairs, on behalf of Comrade-Premier Kurchatov.

Damn, thought Five-Star General Vincent Ferrer Chalermchai, Strategos Strategon of the Syskeyian Armed Forces, to himself as he head the message. They've figured it out.

"Think we should tell them?" he asked an aide.

"It's your call, sir."

"Then I'll make it."

TO: Sergei Alexiev, International Affairs, on behalf of Comrade-Premier Kurchatov
FROM: 5-Star Gen. Vincent F. Charlemchai, Strategos Strategon, Syskeyian Armed Forces

Whatever so-called "threat" which is headed toward the Gulf of Syskeyia is simply participating in the joint Chimaean/Syskeyian military exercises.

On another note, 136 ships seems a bit ... large for a small observation fleet. Would your deployment, perchance, have anything to do with this broadcast:
'Comrades! Glorious workers of Eurusea! Today is a great day for justice! For too long we have let the evil crimes against our people by the foul heathen dogs of Syskeyia go unpunished! You all remember, comrades, how these vile monsters fired on a peaceful crowd of Reich citizens for daring to challenge their right to run a disgusting house of sin, comrades, a brothel, no less, on holy Reich soil? Do the workers of Eurusea tolerate such despicable brutality by the oppressive fascists?'

'No!'
'Of course we do not! Those who murdered Eurusea's children have been sent to hell where they belong by the justice of Iesus Christi, but their masters, the demons who gave them their orders, where are they, comrades? Every day they sit in their ivory towers laughing at the plight of their oppressed workers, forced to serve their evil masters and worship their foul, blasphemous rat-goddess! Who will free them if not us, comrades? Who will give Syskeyia back to the people, who will restore justice and the worship of the one true God and his prophet, the holy Comrade Marx, if not the workers of our proud nation?

'Nobody, comrades! Nobody has the determination but us now! We will lead, so others may follow the glorious red banner of the revolution! Go now, go into the factories, and produce the arms that will liberate the oppressed! Go into the barracks, become the unstoppable Red Army that will thrust the blade of revolution deep into the heart of the evil bourgeoisie! Go into the schools, teach our children to hate our evil enemy, and teach them that together and with God on our side, nothing can stop us, we the workers of Eurusea!'
I eagerly await your answer.

God bless,

Vincent Ferrer Chalermchai
Strategos Strategon
Syskeyain Armed Forces

[OOC: "If you want to, feel free to have discovered the "intruder" and harvest any intell from me." Heh, heh, heh... you asked for it...]


Anesca's Realm, Neural Network, The Most Glorious Hack
Just Before Danneland's Intrusion

Anesca's Realm was what one might expect from a young girl allowed to design her room in any way she wanted when granted access to unlimited money, and not constrained by the laws of physics. The Neural Net could be a playground, and in it, Anesca was a goddess. Highly detailed maps of global 'hot spots', including both Eurusea and Grafton's Isle were mixed in with pinup posters of current heart-throbs from teen magazines and posters of various pop groups. One corner of the room was dominated by a massive computer that looked something like a Cray Supercomputer. With pink highlights. It was just a representation of interface into the pervasive Hack computer systems, of course, but she liked how it looked. She also had an odd habit of calling it 'Grandma'.

She was flipping through the electronic representations of one of the several magazines she subscribed to when Grandma started beeping, a red light started flashing, bathing the room in scarlet. She tossed the magazine aside, letting it fade from existance as she pulled up the alert Grandma was telling her about. "Grandma, what's the problem?"

"We seem to have a foreign intelligence trying to break into our systems, dear."

Anesca snorted, "Idiots." She placed her hands on the side of Grandma, merging within the Network, her avatar fading from existance.

Fully merged with the Hack's systems, she was the network. She didn't do this very often as the automated systems tended to take care of any wayward hackers, or curious college students and anarchist or communists. However, this intruder had some funding behind him, and she wasn't going to leave this to an automated system. The flood of information would have drowned any human, and possibly overwhealmed some of her sisters. She had been specially programmed to handle the massive amounts of data that flowed through the Hack's public, private, and governmental systems.

Pushing other concerns from her consciousness, she focused on the would-be intruder. It seemed he had been following lines and had partially stumbled into her network. He was looking for rebel activities or the sort. Anesca routed him through a couple redundant systems while she pondered his fate. Eventually she decided on her plan.

The Kitsune fireteam would have done their drop by now, and likely should have found the girl by now. This foreign government could be used to provide cover. Perhaps draw Eurusea's forces away from Old-Kursk, and make escape easier. Whipping up a few 'TOP SECRET; EYES-ONLY; NO FORINT' type documents, buried them into Section 3's files and slowly downgraded the security levels in a path from those documents to where her would-be hacker was playing.

She watched with no small amount of satisfaction as he followed her path, and 'found' the 'secret' documents. In the real world, her catatonic physical body slowly smiled. Seems he was taking his time. Deciding to take further advantage of the situation, Anesca traced the path he had taken, following him back to his home.

Danneland, hmm?

She spent a little time poking around in Danneland's less secure systems while keeping an eye on her hacker; she tossed out a little bit of code, opening a back door to Danneland's systems. Getting to the door would still be difficult, and it only allowed access to minor computer systems, it would still be a start, if needed. Hacking their intelligence agencies wasn't high on her list of concerns right now, so it would suffice.

Glancing back on her hacker, she decided that he'd been around for long enough. She caused the system to start asking for more identification and verification, figuring he'd get the hint. It seemed to work; he was backing out. Just to make it seem more realistic (and to get him to hurry up) she released a few mid-level ICE programs to chase him the rest of the way out. After he was gone she found the hole he had exploited and patched it up, quickly programming a short string of code to search for other such holes. No sense in being needlessly sloppy, after all.

[Danneland: Um, no spacedystuff, sorry, and there is an element of planned threadness to this. Again, sorry. Not up for major invasion just yet...]

[Syskeyia: OTH radar has a range of a little under 1,900 miles...I don't see your point]

Eurusean Office of Foreign Affairs

Sergei grinned to himself as he read down the response, 'Rather predictable, that...' he took a sip of vodka and rolled a sheet of paper into his typewriter.

To the honourable representative of Syskeyia,

While I must admit to being a fan of fanciful stories I am regrettably not able to sample all of those my nation has to offer. I am, however, aware that one of your own television stations recently screened a movie regarding an alien invasion, and yet my own government has shamefully not taken any action to combat this menace.

I would humbly suggest that you do not believe everything you hear, comrade-General.

~Sergei Alexiev, International Affairs, on behalf of Comrade-Premier Kurchatov.

Signal box, abandoned area #34

Natalya raised her rifle towards the stranger, blinking, 'Y-you're from around here?*' tears welled up in her eyes as she recalled her last sight of her home again, the remains of the farm still hanging from the blades and gouges on Megalith's arms like some kind of obscene trophies, 'Get us out of here to where, anyway?'

Anya looked scared, but rested her hand on the rifle, pushing it down, 'She's not lying, Natalya...Please, trust her.'

Natalya lowered the rifle the rest of the way, Anya hugging her as she did so. Anya looked up at Ieyoshi as the tank's engine started outside, the looser fittings in the guard box rattling, 'Please, if you're here to get us out of here, tell us what we have to do.'

[*Accent, hee]

Signal box, abandoned area #34

Ieyoshi shook her head, dropping her hands to her sides, "No, I haven't lived here in a long time..." She winced as she heard the tank, Uyo's voice in her mind, telling her troop positions and urging to to 'get her ass in gear'. She smiled warmly at Anya, seeming perfectly calm despite the impending doom that seemed to be bearing down on the three of them. "Okay, for now, I need you to trust me. I know it's hard, but I'll explain everything once we're out of immediate danger." She carefully glanced out the window, the HUD giving her information on the approaching troops and tank. She frowned slightly, "Okay, follow me."

She paused, looking at Natalya, "We'll be moving quickly, you or I should carry her."

[Eurusea: No problems, Just ignore the part with space, they'll drop with regular dropships from air.
The Most Glorious Hack: I was a bit scared when you said "You asked for it" . phew :P Hope you dont mind me spinning of on this a little]

IC:


Danneland Network
Anesca had a bit of luck, or just perfect timing, a virus was raging the computer systems in Danneland and a new AI was launched and installed in all new systems, making them an easy target just for a few secconds, but enough for anyone with atleast some skills to slip through. The first thing she would notice was the complete different "atmosphere" in Danneland system, not that they actually was, but they felt more "hostile".
Bits of data was floating around the net at random, the virus had dealt some serious security damage.
The new AI roared as it clashed into another infected system and seemed to occupied with that at the moment.
She could follow her intruder into some sort of log-on system, where the intruders "mind" stoped to move moments before he jacked out. The only conclusion she could think of was execution, Danneland wasnt famous for their fair justice system.

Somewhere in the distance she could sence a light, like some entrance into this.. system, or into a larger system.



The Black Tower in Danneland City

"Has he come out yet? Veers asked, the woman shook her head.
"No, and he refuses to talkt to anyone"
Veers shook his head, "I guess its up to me to continue this.. yea, well, whatever it is.."
He went out and headed straight down the hallway to the conference hall, where all the major General had been assembled.
"Prepare the ops' teams, I want to make sure that our landing zone isnt filled with commie scums, at the same, send a diplomatic team to try to solve the whole thing. If we have any luck at all, this thing will blow over and we dont have to spend half our millitary budget on another war, that is all"
The Generals nodded "Thank you mr. vice leader"
Veers sat down on a chair, this would be a long, looong, weekend.


Black Etheral Compound, 00.00

"Your orders are as followed, you will be inserted outside the shores of Eurusea, after that you will got to location A, gather intell and then head to location B, destroy target D and then go to extraction point C, you will not have any marks or anything that can be traced back to Danneland. if captured, you know that we will deny any knowlege of your existance. understood?"

The 7 men nodded.

"well get some rest, you will be inserted at 14.00 hours"

[OOC: Nah, I don't mind. I love abusing my IT ranking...]

Low Security Areas, Danneland Network, Danneland

Anesca paused in her poking around, looking at the Danneland network in silent amazement. Sheej... a system-wide format would be an improvement... The damage was... amusing, really. A virus was rampaging the system and an hyperactive AI was trying to stop it, probably causing just as much damage as the virus. Her network presence almost laughed as the virus tried to attack her systems. She regarded it as one might a strange bug. The bit that was attacking her systems quickly unravelled as she pulled its code apart, line by line. Deciding that the Danneland systems were a little too unstable for further entertainment and carefully let herself back out, running several diagnostics once in her own systems.

[ooc: bleh, lets leave it at that. and imagine I wrote some genious post that just cancelled all orders]

[Syskeyia: OTH radar has a range of a little under 1,900 miles...I don't see your point]

I thought you believed my bombers to be in close range of your fleet, but oh well.

IC:
To the honourable representative of Syskeyia,

While I must admit to being a fan of fanciful stories I am regrettably not able to sample all of those my nation has to offer. I am, however, aware that one of your own television stations recently screened a movie regarding an alien invasion, and yet my own government has shamefully not taken any action to combat this menace.

I would humbly suggest that you do not believe everything you hear, comrade-General.

~Sergei Alexiev, International Affairs, on behalf of Comrade-Premier Kurchatov.
D@mn frickin' lyin' b@stards, Chalermchai thought to himself.

"Your orders, sir?"

"Stand as is. The bombers will wait an restrain from firing until the Euruseans initiate hostilities. Let them make the first move.

Once they do, unleash hell."

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyia

A second level clone of Alric sat at his desk, reading the letter, letter!, from some diplomat from some nation he was barely familiar with. Being a second level clone, he had the authority to approve such things without getting permission from home, which was a good thing, considering how far away he was: on a small island chain, a couple hundred miles from the submerged complex that housed the vast majority of Abatoirians. He performed a slight double-take as he noticed the line about payment, before shruging and muttering a soft, "Why the Hell not?"


To: The Honorable Sergei Alexiev
Fr: Number 2
Re: Your query

I had reviewed your proposal, and I find the terms acceptable. I have both the facilities, and the forward position to meet your request. I also find your offered payment most generous. I have already ordered surface vessels to the coordinates you requested. Their ETA is <insert time/date here>.

- Number 2, Special Command Operating Under Direct Authority of He Who Is

Although the Messianic Empire of HARU does not back Commies in general, on the principle that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, we applaud your campagin against Syskeyia.

*sorry about the spelling errors. Ya think with this new forum we'd have a spell check?

The Wonderful nation of Vegana Congratulates their brothers in Eurusea for their succesful war against crime, hedonism and terrorism. A great fleet maneuver will be held to show the determination and will to keep crime out of the Reich. Our brothers in Infinite Loving will join us and show us the true way to perfection. Glory to God! GOD is Great!

Open sea heading for International waters near Syskeyia

God was truly great! fleet admiral Desmond Moran thought, he looked out over the two carriergroups, Nephilim Smiter and Holy Avenger, with great pride and joy. These were the pride of Veganas naval fleet, used in many conflicts before, he admired the bulky hulls capability to cut through the waves and took a deep breath of the fresh sea air. He listened to the songs from the ships, the Choirs from Infinite Loving singing hymns of joy for the life at sea, he was amazed of the amount of work those lads could perform, he just wasn't sure why it always had to be done clad only in loin clothes. He went over to the bridge and checked their scanners, still too far away, but he could always send an open hail to the Eurusean fleet.

He went over to the communication unit, lifted the comm and thought for a second. Then he pressed the button and spoke. "God is great! Heil Brothers and sisters from Eurusea! Glory to you and your deeds. We remember our brethren from the Reich and ask permission to perform maneuvers in your vicinity."

Admiral Moran let go of the button and signalled to his aides to raise the readiness to level ultra-violent. He wasn't sure of the reaction from others in the vicinity and he sure as hell would be prepared if someone tried something stupid.

The Groups carried on in a confident speed of 30 knots.

International Waters, off the Southern Syskeyian Coast

There were many things Fleet-Kapitan Allan Shelley didn't like about his job. The long hours, the mind-numbing paperwork and the lengthy deployments in the service of God and Country.
However, as he stared down from the bridge of the Mordred Class Dreadnought, G.O.S Auckland, he decided that crusading against foul and heretical blasphemers wasn't one of them.
The mighty warship, it's four escorting Bismarck Class BBs, and the various lesser elements of the fleet, were truly a sight to put the fear of God, or at least his chosen navy, into the fear of any rat goddess worshipper, even without combining with the other two Battlegroups on their way to link up with the Eurusean forces.
He smiled and rubbed the rail on which he leant. Truly he was blessed in being alive to see this day of wrath against the profaners of the name of God.
Truly he was.

Moran watched the encrypted message with a frown. "Looks like the choirs sings in vain." He said. He walked over and watched the screen, a massed number of red dots circling some distance away from some green dots. He shrugged and then gave the order of moving to a new designated destination.

Train Station, abandoned area #34

Brezhnev glanced around, making sure he was out of sight of the sniper on the water tower before sliding his goggles up and his gas mask down, fumbling for a cigarette. He sighed as he took a drag, and pondered asking the commissar for a factory job after this was over. Ever since his little Sasha had lost her mother to disease a little under a year ago she'd fretted terribly when he was out on mission, sitting on the sofa hugging a cushion until he came back, sometimes crying. He leaned against the wall, cursing the wild goose chase that had made him miss her birthday, hoping the kitten he'd got her would at least give her something to distract her from worrying.

He blinked as he head a sound nearby, raising his gun and dropping his cigarette, quickly grinding it out with the toe of his boot. 'Who's there?'

He stepped forward, holding his gun level as one of Kirov's searchlights swept across the train yard, casting jagged shadows from the catwalks and stairways. 'Hello? Is there someone there?'

He took the sealed instruction regarding 30-16 out of his pocket, slitting the envelope with his bayonet, blinking several times and glancing around lowering his gun a little, 'Anya? Is that you?' he paused, 'We're here to take you somewhere safe – nobody wants to hurt you.' He paused for a moment, listening, 'Come out if you can hear me...Don't be afraid.' He took a step forward, 'Anya?'

He blinked as he found the source of the noise, Natalya's horse in the field behind the old station, whinnying occasionally. He pulled his gas mask over, flicking the radio on, 'Kirov, I have a live horse here.'

International Waters near the Syskeyian Coast

Slowly, the huge Floating Fortress Allegretto turned away from Syskeyia, her Prometheus escorts holding position until she completed her turn. The other Floating Fortresses followed, until the entire fleet started to turn to follow them, steaming away back to their home ports.

Behind them, in the waters they had been anchored in, the sunlight glimmered off the scales of thousands of dead fish floating on the surface.

On Fortissimo, General Zaitzev grinned, 'Prep a couple of Defence Bombs in case those bombers try to fire on us. I'll be in my quarters.'

Waters near St Peter Claver Island

The fleet sailed slowly, staying close to the Floating Fortress Alternate's jamming equipment and maintaining strict radio silence. Nine other Floating Fortresses moved with the immense allied fleet bearing down on the island with the grim inevitability of an avalanche.

Oddly, Syskeyian satellites that would have crossed their path seemed to have gone silent.

Syskeyiapolis, Syskeyia

The driver stepped out of the cab of his tanker, parked near a busy shopping centre. He headed across the road into an alleyway, not looking overly concerned, checking through his change to see if he could afford a cup of tea or coffee. He sighed a little, throwing the truck's keys over a wall and taking his gloves off, slipping them into his pocket.

A few moments later, an explosion rang out and a thick red cloud of gas began to flood the streets, blossoming from the ruined tanker.

Two minutes later, another exploded in front of the capitol.

Garam Airbase, Eurusea

Vasilli grinned as he picked up the telephone and dialed central command, 'All ordered aircraft are now in the Air, Comrade-General.'

He glanced out of the window, smiling. Heavy jet-engined bombers and vast black-painted Leviathan super heavy bombers circled above the airfields like flocks of birds, waiting for the order to come. 'Truly, God is great!'

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

You are here alone again
In your sweet insanity
All too calm, you hide yourself from reality
Do you call it solitude? Do you call it liberty?
When all the world turns away to leave you lonely
'The World,' .hack//SIGN

Verlock, capital of Beringholm, 28 years ago

General Yakovlev cursed as Megalith slowly backed away from the Absolute Barrier, smoke pouring from its machine blades, the white-hot glow of them visible even from where he was standing, 'Damn it!'

Outside it there were barely even ruins left, the whole area blackened by napalm and heavily cratered by the numerous artillery shells that had bounced off the Absolute Barrier. Inside, the city still stood as if nothing had ever happened, the beautifully ornate towers, domes and minarets, carefully landscaped gardens, gleaming, pristine lakes and fountains, canals and various temples and civic halls now almost taunting the Eurusean army.

Lady Maya sighed, gazing out of the palace window as another volley of artillery rounds sent ripples through the barrier. Under the glass dome and vaulted arches of the central hall sat a circle of the most powerful mages* Beringholm had left, from elders to children, two hundred of them holding hands and keeping the barrier alive.

Lady Maya turned quickly as she heard a heavy bomber come in low, a searingly bright flash behind her slowly blossoming into an immense fireball that rolled lazily into the sky. One of the younger girls in the circle cried out in pain, blood running from her nose and eyes, the apothecary quickly tending to her.

Outside the barrier, Yakovlev lowered his binoculars, shaking his head in disbelief, 'Ops, is Alpha Vermilion in position yet?'

The soldier at ops shook his head, 'Another half-hour, comrade-General.'

'Sound the general retreat, all units to pull back or get down immediately. Tell them trenches aren't enough, the heat and overpressure will kill them if they try that!'

'Yes, comrade-General!'

Inside the barrier, Lady Maya watched, permitting herself to smile, 'I guess we must have put up too much of a fight for the mighty Eurusean army.'

One of the guards grinned, 'Now, your highness, your presence is required at the general headquarters.'

Lady Maya nodded, picking up her staff and leaving the circle of mages to relax a little, the barrier fading very slightly.

Lucifer Mortar Final Production Prototype Alpha Vermilion, Beringholm, 28 years ago

Nikolai Sestrogor sighed and ran a hand through his long, dark hair, glancing at his watch impatiently. 'The firing order should have come through by now, Commissar.'

Commissar Dmitriev smiled, He's like a child with a new toy... 'Just wait. This test round is eighty megatons, you don't just throw that kind of weapon around without proper preparation.'

Road away from Verlock, 28 years ago

Lady Maya smiled as the carriage slowly moved away from Verlock, the last few armoured cars from her father's motor rifle division surrounding the horse-drawn, expensively decorated royal vehicle. The imported tanks and armour had been far too little and far too late, unable to even damage the bigger Eurusean tanks and inferior in almost every regard due to the lack of expertise with maintaining machines of war in Beringholm.

She thought again of her father, the King, how he had led his troops out to the border against the huge Eurusean army as tradition demanded, the Queen by his side. Neither had been seen again, the pitiful few survivors of the disastrous battle returning with tales of weapons as big as buildings, of a monstrous thing at the middle of the Eurusean formation that they called a Leveller simply driving through their lines as if they weren't there. Without her father's crown, it was impossible to make her Queen in his absence, so she remained Crown Princess. She sighed, At least until the new crown is made.

Suddenly there was a flash behind her that seemed to light up the whole world, the horses panicking and running. Lady Maya fell forward against the opposite seat as the carriages wheel hit a ditch, the axle snapping and the carriage sliding to a halt. She tried to get up, but felt something hit the carriage hard, the walls caving in around her as the black veil of unconsciousness swept over her.

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

As she climbed out of the ruined carriage into the pouring rain that fell in heavy drops, Lady Maya already knew something was terribly, horribly wrong. The gentle feeling of the Absolute Barrier had been on the edge of her mind so long that the absence of it almost made her feel naked. Claps of thunder boomed as lightning lit the plain, the thick, black storm clouds overhead making it so dark she could barely tell what time of day it was.

She blinked as she realised all of her guards and servants were dead, looking to have been shot; indeed, glancing around she could see a few shell casings and bodies in Eurusean army uniforms.

And then she overcame her fear, and turned. Where the beautiful city of Verlock had once stood was now only a huge column of black smoke, orange at its base from the fires that still burned. She shook her head in utter disbelief, 'No...No...'

Lady Maya fell to her knees, head in hands, and cried, not caring about the mud or the rain. She cried for the friends she had lost, for her country, for her people, for her father and mother she'd had no time to grieve for, for her brother who she had left behind...

But most of all, she cried because she knew that for all her power as a princess and a mage there was nothing in the world she could have done to save any of them.

[*=psychics]

International Waters near the Syskeyian Coast

Slowly, the huge Floating Fortress Allegretto turned away from Syskeyia, her Prometheus escorts holding position until she completed her turn. The other Floating Fortresses followed, until the entire fleet started to turn to follow them, steaming away back to their home ports.

Behind them, in the waters they had been anchored in, the sunlight glimmered off the scales of thousands of dead fish floating on the surface.

On Fortissimo, General Zaitzev grinned, 'Prep a couple of Defence Bombs in case those bombers try to fire on us. I'll be in my quarters.'

Waters near St Peter Claver Island

The fleet sailed slowly, staying close to the Floating Fortress Alternate's jamming equipment and maintaining strict radio silence. Nine other Floating Fortresses moved with the immense allied fleet bearing down on the island with the grim inevitability of an avalanche.

Oddly, Syskeyian satellites that would have crossed their path seemed to have gone silent.

Syskeyiapolis, Syskeyia

"Sir, we've got good news and bad news."

Chalermchai turned his head. "Good news?"

"The Eurusean fleet's headed back toward its home country."

"And the bad news?"

"We think they're about to invade St. Peter Claver Island."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, all our satellites in the area seemed to be jammed. Our SR-71s, however, did some flying around and well, sir, see for yourself."

The aide took a photo out of his pocket and placed it on the table. It was an aerial photo, taken from a Blackbird at high altitude, that clearly depicted a conglomerate fleet spearheaded by nine floating Fortresses.

Skies above Syskeyia
Flight Officer Bernard Ramathan receieved his order quickly. "Fat Cat" and 239 B-52s like her refueled via KC-10 and made their way toward the island from which the Amerigan Slaver War was launched.

St. Peter Claver Island
(Forces are scrambled. Will write über post later)

Syskeyiapolis, Syskeyia
<stupid terrorist attack>

*fires IGNORE cannon at Eurusean terrorists*

OOC: Um, I follow that "Matty rule" regarding terrorism which says that if you want to launch a terrorist attack on a country, you should OOC ask them first. Not to mentioned that I am extremely tired with the notion that you can just waltz into Syskeyia and launch a successful terrorist attack. When was the last time Arab terrorists successfully attacked the Knesset?

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyia

OOC: Ten Floating Fortresses...And, um, you don't allow the movement of large amounts of red dye around? Did you even think of asking what gas it was before you screamed Godmode?

Fleet Admiral Moran watched as the jets sprang into action propelling the fleet towards St Peter Claver Island at an astounding 60 Knots. God how he loved technology! Behind the two carrier groups thousands of objects started to float up in the air covering parts of the sky like huge flocks of seagulls, scattering by the wind, riding the streams, bobbing up and down until finding jetstreams, blocking and irritating, sending out strange messages to radar and scanners and some made smaller EMP pulses at random moments. The crew onboard the ships watched the baloons swerve up into the sky and dance their dance.

New Eden, Endless Crimes

"Bad timing. How many years until we finish rebuilding?" Metatron looked at Michael... The new Michael, after the old one, the honoured leader and hero of the Hogsweatian campaign had been killed by the nephilim.

"About ten years. Of course, with less extensive training..."

"We can't do that. The Cherubim must know how blood tastes! Otherwise they will never be able to face the horrors of the world... The plague of the nephilim."

Michael nodded. "I understand. And I agree. Nonetheless, We need to be careful."

"Yes." Metatron looked slightly annoyed, his forehead glowing a little brighter than normal. "Nonetheless, I want our men to be there. This request is not to be taken lightly."

"As you order." Michael bowed, obediently.

And the hidden machines, the true gods, moved, silently, soulless, the nightmare, created so long ago, continuing to work, recording.

A few days later

"HEIL!"

A million voices, of a million Cherubim, shouted as one, a thunderous cry of joy echoing back and forth through the streets, a song of excessive beauty to those who feared and obeyed god, a torture to those who didn't, to those who were punished, nailed to a thousand crosses alongside the streets, sighs of agony and pain escaping their mouths, their eyes flickering, the gift of life taken from them.

A million cherubim were ready to move, and they would move.

For it was time.

The first ships, a small contingent, yet, a first, and important, sign, left, heading towards the coordinates given to them, following the call to arms, the Cherubim high with joy and their lust for blood.

Saiana watched on board of the Lightbringer. She was one of the cursed ones, her pointy ears looking somewhat missplaced, considering her heavy, black boots, the equally black uniform and the riding crop on her side.

She smiled a little. Fascist Elves wasn't capable of assisting with its own fleet, but it was still capable of helping out with Inquisitors.

And yes, she liked her mission. She could hardly wait. Rat Worshippers. Heathens. Filth. They shall pay. A smile formed in her tender face, looking as innocent as a newborn...

She remembered the blood orgies in Hogsweat. With a bit of luck... And looking at the 50cm main artillery on the Lightbringer, she chuckled a little. Right, there was this other thing...

The two carrier groups sailed placidly through the waters on their way to Syskeyia. Captain Popov stood on the bridge of the Integer, his gray uniform in impeccable condition. She smiled grimly, turning to her first officer, "It's good to finally see action."

The officer smiled, "Indeed it is, Captain. I was beginning to think He Who Is had forgotten about us."

Popov laughed lightly, "No, of course not. Lack of need should never be confused with lack of care."

---
Later

The Integer and the Quadratic raised to higher alert levels, having reached their target destination; squadrons of bombers and their fighter escorts were already prepped for launch. The launch of the planes went off without a hitch, and with practiced perfection, the catapult systems sending plane after plane rocketing down the launch strip and into the air. The bombers fell into formation; the fighters joining in, before they turned as one, flying to their target: St. Peter Claver Island.

St. Peter Claver City, St. Peter Claver Island
The Amerigan Slaver War Museum, long the island’s most famous tourist attraction and a frequent recipient of grade school field trips, had closed its doors and the museum personnel gave no comment on why.
Though trucks could be spooted in the vicinity moving toward the airport.
What everyone did not know, yet did suspect, was that all the historical artifacts of the museum were being shipped to Syskeyiapolis for temporary safe-keeping. [OOC: They did make it]
For all the island might soon be in peril.

TO: Honorable commander of the Eurusean fleet
FROM: General Isaiah Divecha, commander of Syskeyian Armed Forces, St. Peter Claver Island

Some of our forces have taken a look out on the horizon and caught a sight of your fleet. Quite a consdierable navy you have- it's not every day a fleet of six hundred warships makes its way around here. Tell me, what brings you out so far into the South Pacific,

May Christ's grace be with you,

General Isaiah Divecha
Commander of Syskeyian Forces
St. Peter Claver Island

OOC: Just some info on St. Peter Claver Island:
It was uninhabited until February 2003, when naval engineers a built an airbase in preparation for the American slave blockade. It soon grew to include troops and naval facilites and became the springboard for the Syskeyian-Chimaean-Rastonian landings in Amerigo. After the war ended, Syskeyia held onto the island, and a civilian population grew up around the base. Today, St. Peter Claver Island is the 76th province of the Republic.

The vast majority of the (civilian) architecture is a variation of what could be called “Syskeyian Gothic.” Basically, this architectural style (http://www.web.virginia.edu/asianarc/public/chiangmai/watphrasing14.JPG) wedded to the Gothic style. Unlike most Syskeyian Gothic architecture, which tends toward Early Gothic style of architecture, the “St. Peter Claver Island Gothic” has a more Flamboyant-High Gothic look to it. This is (intentionally) to contrast with the neoclassical architecture nearby Amerigo.

Just north of the provincial capital, St. Peter Claver Island, is the island’s primary military base, St. Peter Claver Joint Forces Base. Basically it’s Guatanamo Bay, Fort Hood, and Henderson AFB all rolled into one. The ships have “ship hangars,” and all the aircraft are in hardened aircraft shelters. In fact, virtually the entire island is fortified (and has the latest camouflage technology) against an enemy invasion (but is not a 100% garrison island- think South Korea or Taiwan).

The island is in the South Pacific, just off of Danger Island (but out of Danger Island territorial waters, it must be emphasized).

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyia

PRIORITY ONE - MOST SECRET

To: General Vincent Chalermchai, Strategos Strategôn of the Armed Forces of the Syskeyian Republic
From: Imperial High Command, New Rome

War appears imminent. Critical that St Peter Claver Island be held. Imperial Equites Legion, Infantry Legion of the Exarchate of New Jerusalem, and Fourth Provincials stand ready at your disposal. Currently en-route to St Peter Claver Island with a minimal escort. Our forces are under orders to not attempt to run the Eurusean blockade without heavier escort. Suggest that you commit assets to the escort of our ground forces so that they may be deployed in the defence of St Peter Claver Island.

Aboard the Syskeyian B-52H Fat Cat
Flight Lieutenant NAME looked at his new orders [OOC: That you can’t intercept].

[OOC: Dude, I'm 8th in the world for IT. I can intercept damn near anything I want.]

Abandoned Area #34, Kesselstan

Uyo closed her eyes a moment, accessing the mental controls for her optic nerves, shifting her vision up into the infrared range, scanning the area around her. Fusayoshi stood near her, his Kalashnikova rifle. He said nothing, communicated instead via their wireless mind-to-mind network, What do you see, Uyo?

Uyo frowned, her Barrett M82A1 still resting across her back, We've got some movement, but our biggest threat, by far, is the Kirov, which we've got no chance against. Shit! She dropped down, followed quickly by Fusayoshi just as the Kirov's search lights swept over where they had been standing.

Signal Box, Abandoned Area #34, Kesselstan

Ieyoshi sighed as Natalya hesitated. "We don't have time for this, let's go." Moving forward, she scooped up Anya, and slipped out of the signal box. Just outside the door stood Futami, who had been guarding the entrance. She had her own Kalashnikova, and Ieyoshi's slung over her shoulder. Her voice was a stage-whisper, "We've got movement outside, we've gotta go through the forest."

Ieyoshi nodded, "Right, we'll try and loop around to our contact." The two Kitsune moved quickly, dodging search lights and soldiers, working their way to the forest, hoping their luck held out. As they ran, Futami connected to Uyo and Fusayoshi, Heading to the forest with the target and a friend. Her internal GPS system sending real-time location updates to the other team members. "The others will catch up soon."

The deck of G.O.S Canterbury Crusaders.

Petty Officer Pieter Wilson waved his paddle forward and the pilot seated in the high cockpit of the Swallow interceptor gave him a thumbs up, swept-wing aircraft rolling backward a little.
Wilson counted carefully under his breath, he couldn't hear anything anyway in the howling maelstrom of noise that was the Crusaders flight deck.
Swallows were being flung into the air as swiftly as could be done, flinging themselves towards the massive radar signatures of both missiles and bombers.
Mainly the bombers, God would guard his own, but righteous slaughter was the job of his chosen people.
Wilson finished counting, and snapped his paddle down, and the Swallow hurtled down the catapult and clawed into the air, afterburners blazing.
Wilson looked to direct an other fighter skyward, but all had launched. He watched them climb and join up with the groups from the other carriers, tears in his eyes.
"Good hunting my brothers in God, good hunting."

Radar Control of G.O.S Graham Lowe.

The radar room of the heavy cruiser was quiet, calm, serene even. The Prince Eugen Class had been designed to be AEGIS vessels from the moment of their reconstruction and the Kriegsmarine were supremely confident in the abilities of their vessels, so radars swept back and forth and counter-missiles were prepped, CIWS were spun up, and the crew settled down to wait for what was to come.
God was with them after all, there was no reason to worry, or react in haste, so the God's Own BattleGroups continued boring relentlessly towards their goal, patient as the sea itself.

Sr. Airman Arinov had always enjoyed the bombing runs in the flight simulators when he was going through training. He had enjoyed the practice sorties with real aircraft even more. While he wished that he had been assigned to one of the bombers (there was a visceral glee he felt at the thought of firebombing a city), he was perfectly happy in his fighter.

As they approached the coastline of the island that would be their target, he felt his sense of nerviousness grow, as they hadn't encountered any meaningful resistance. Or any at all for that matter. He was just about to radio his wingman to see if his radar was acting up when he saw, with growing horror, numerous blips appear, and locking warnings blaring in his cockpit. "Fucking Christ..." he muttered as he saw hundreds, maybe even thousands of missiles launch. While he had no problems with overkill, this bordered on insanity.

Without even thinking, he clicked on his radio, "Don't follow me." He fired his afterburners, streaking down and forward, the forces slamming him against the back of his seat as he roared towards the missiles. Keying up one last time he cried, "For Charnel Glory!" and crashed directly into one of the missiles, detonating it.

His wingmen gasped in surprized as the missile detonated in a manner they had never seen before. They were even more surprized when most of the missiles tilted and fell back to the earth. "Bloody Hell... EMP!" The formations broke into evasive measures to dodge the remaining missiles.

OOC: Okay, look. I thought you were "modern tech". EMP missiles aren't modern tech, and this nonsense about "The missiles would reach their targets, no matter what." is utter bullshit and a blatent Godmode, and you know it. If you want to play these kind of games, I'm all for it, but you damn well better be ready to accept it right back. Either retcon the missiles, or I'm going to assume that most of them were disabled due to the early detonation of the missile that my fighter hit. It went off and disabled most of the surrounding ones.

OOC: There there lads, don't start a flame this early =) I would reckon that Eurusea will arrive to St. Peter Claver before any other troops since he did this little maneuver outside SYskeyia to lure away troops. If not Syskeyia will try to paratroop people unto that island. BTW, I love that quote "but is not a 100% garrison island- think South Korea or Taiwan" LOL. My troops will probably arrive last, since I was stupid enough to use the same fleet that went to the original site. Try to keep this decent, on both sides... Sysk, if you try some of that Überstuff you pulled in the embassy thread, there's always a bunkerbuster... We will accept that it is an armoured island.

IC:


THousands of baloons were floating behind the two carriergroups, not being of much use but screwing up radar. The men watched in dissappointment as no planes tried to fly through the now mined skies. The Infinite Loving Choirs took up a holy hymn about glory to god and death unto his enemies. The ships sailed onward as the songs of thousands of men swept over the ocean.

Over two hundred B-52s, arranged according to squadron and in battle spread formation, launched one thousand, nine hundred twenty EMP cruise missiles at the huge Eurusean-Reich fleet.
The missiles would reach their targets, no matter what.

OOC: Um, sure they will...No such thing as interceptor missiles, flak, or point defence, is there? It's not like there's ships in that fleet with twelve inch automatic cannons firing flak, is it? Retconning the launch is probably for the best, otherwise you get the fun of finding out what a 'Defence Bomb' is.

If you are near to the dark
I will tell you 'bout the sun
You are here, no escape
From my visions of the world
You will cry all alone
But it does not mean a thing to me
'Aura,' .hack//SIGN

Airspace near Syskeyian bomber squadron

Most of them probably refused to believe the vast shadow on the radar was anything but Veganian jamming until they visually confirmed the awesome black-painted Leviathan bomber behind them, it's wings covering over two thousand feet of sky as it matched pace with them. The pilot grinned, flicking his radio on, 'Syskeyian aircraft, this is Leviathan bomber LV-34 Hand of Lenin. Turn onto the following vector and return to your bases immediately. This will be your only warning.'

Captain Ivanov sighed as the pilot turned off the radio, 'Sending bombers into a war zone with no escort...They must want to die.'

Abandoned Area #34, Kesselstan, Eurusea

One of the radio men handed a note to Kaminsky, who sighed, 'Yes, I know. That's the last building.' He shook his head, 'Erase any mention of the horse from our logs and give it to the nearest farm that needs it.'

'Yes sir.'

Forest near Kesselstan border train station

Anya yelped as she tripped over a root and fell again, rubbing her head, 'Ow...Can we stop running, please? It's so dark...Can't we rest a moment?' she panted.

Forest Near Kesselstan Border Train Station

Ieyoshi gave Fusayoshi a stern look and he sighed, nodding, "Yes, we can stop. For now." He glanced over at the rather tall Kitsune, "Uyo..." Uyo nodded, quickly scrambling up the nearest tree, seeming to vanish in the branches. The three remaining Kitsune sat down on the soft grass, grateful for the break. Ieyoshi looked over Anya's head, "It looks okay, just a bump." She gives it a motherly kiss before sitting back down. She sighed, peering around, "It's pretty dark."

Futami nodded with a slight shrug, "Well... Uyo's got the tricked out vision, we'll just have to cope. Or wait until daylight, but that's got it's own set of problems."

En Route (But still quite a bit away) to St. Peter Claver Island

The surface vessels, 112 of them, were quite a magnificiant view, even though Saiana was used to slightly more advanced technology than mere wet ships.

Yet, the sheer brutality of their design, their sheer size...

A short, soft moan escaped her mouth as she felt the warmth between her thighs, and she made sure than none of the Cherubim on the Lightbringer had heard her. She and her people were autonomous, nonetheless... It was best to be careful.

She smiled. And if it would happen, I could make sure the element would be burned.

She looked forward, a destroyer crossing her field of vision... Small, but nonetheless impressive, yet, she was barely aware of it, her thoughts in the future, considering various possibilities.

I wonder how they are, this 'Syskeyians'... I will have to test their tools, some time... She giggled, imagining the tests, her short, blonde hair withstanding the wind, her long, black leather coat waving in it, an impressive view, considering the 185cm tall woman covered by it.

Eventually, she perceived some more activity, heard some words, half a sentence from the Cherubim running around, preparing.

Apparently, the game had just begun.

Fun.

Pantocratoria TMed me recently, and had this remark to say:
The thing that really annoys me about some of these Reich nations by the way, is that they seem to take the same belligerant character OOC as they do IC. It is a freeform RPG, and this war won't actually get anywhere if the participants don't want to work together out of character.

Now, I know I said that "You're the Bad guys, you're supposed to lose" thing in the Reich embassy thread. That was stupid. But equally as stupid is the attitude you seem to take, which is OMG 1 AM TEH L33T B8D GUY U W1LL B3 D3F38T3D 1 W1LL W1N LOL. Hey, I've taken defeats before. Remember how Melkor nuked me during the Mars conflict? How I eventually lost the Reich embassy (though I think you may have at least slightly godmodded the OMG ÜBERL33T M0B)? Why don't you take a significant hit for a change? Or is your RP mode this:

Forces of evil launch successful military action on good guys= good RP
Good guys launch successful military action on forces of evil= godmodding

Sorry. Just a little rant. And BTW, Eurusea, what the heck does the whole "lost girl & abandoned area #34" have ANYTHING to do with the whole Eurusean-Syskeyian war? Why cannot the threads be separate?

Also, Pantocratoria's transport ships [should] be being escorted by eighteen Expeditionary Strike groups. Each ESG consists of the following
1 Wasp-class Amphibious Assault Ship
1 Ticonderoga-class cruiser
1 Arleigh Burke-class destroyer
1 frigate, either Oliver Hazard Perry or Eliat-class
1 Seawolf-class submarine
Each Wasp-class ship has, for this mssion, the following contingent of aircraft:
20 F-35B STOVL Joint Strike Fighters
6 MH-60X Paladinhawk ASW compound helicopters (Basically an ASW-equipped Knighthawk with a Vectored Thrust Ducted Propeller system (some info here (http://www.aviationnow.com/content/ncof/ncf_n82.htm) and here (http://www.geocities.com/tacticalstudiesgroup/piaseckivtdp.htm))

[OOC: Dude, I'm 8th in the world for IT. I can intercept damn near anything I want.]

Opps! I was referring the Eurusea and the Reich. You can intercept anything you want. ;)

IC:A voice crackled over the Hand of Lenin's comm.

"Hand of Lenin, this is a Syskeyian aircraft. We've go problem with going home, but, pray, tell why we must do so on that vortex?"

Meanwhile, two F-16E fighter wings launched from St. Peter Claver island to escort the B-52s...

Waters near St. Peter Claver Island
The Nimitz-class carrier R.S.S. Trinity, flagship of the Syskeyian fleet.

Admiral Augustine Hunc Dhan, saw St. Peter Claver Island from the bridge. "Thank God, we've made it."

The ten carrier battlegroups linked up with the five carrier battlegroups already charged with helping defend the island. The Syskeyain warships in the area now totaled one hundred and thirty five.

Dhan made a Sign of The Cross and prayed a while. May God help us in this battle..

OOC: Each carrier battlegroup consists of the following:
1 Carrier
1 Battleship
2 Cruisers
1 Guided Missile Destroyer
1 Destroyer
1 Frigate
2 Submarines

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyia

Various Rants

Hey, in our eyes, WE are the good guys. And no, but we demand some balance in the game. Not the 50 heroic embassy workers armed with toothpicks defeats the armoured tanks and well trained soldiers dressed in black hats just because you perceive yourself as being a better person. Well, 15 carrier groups outside St. Peter Clavers island, that's pretty much, wonder how many you have. 40 carriers in all according to your factbook. Well, I guess We'll see as you are so nice to continue stepping into our traps. BTW, I'm in top 200 of the world in IT.

IC:
The two carriergroups made a sharp Starboard turn after letting out all their balloons. As satellites in the area begun to go *BZZT FUZZ SHIVER* Fighter wings and bombers started to launch into the air from the 6 carriers flying low, just above the sea level. Moving in a direction not entirely parallell to the 2 carrier groups.

OOC: Um, dude... I'm not a member of the Reich. I'm just a random freelance nation who's been bought. Now, I'll admit that I was a tad... harsh, so I apologise. Er... I guess my bombers w/escort are... uh... still en route, and Arinov is alive and well.

Just outside Gulf of Syskeyia

When coming up to a steady pace the bombers launched several small crafts that accelerated away and spread in front of the bombers, still on low altitude. Small Jellylike pods started to fall in a straight line from the flyer crafts as they flew in over the Gulf of Syskeyia. Thousands were spreading over the sea and like the jellyfishes they resembled they spread into the waves in a broad belt, just beneath the surface, floating and spreading for the waves, no larger than 2 decimeters in diameter. The Fly crafts mindlessly continued towards the Syskeyian coastline like arrows at an incredible speed, dropping pods until left empty of their cargo.

Veganian Bulletin!

GOD IS GREAT! The wonderful nation of Vegana has today started a campaign against pollution in the fragile sea. Our brave airforce has released several "Cleaners" in international waters outside an enemy of the beautiful nature. The cleaners will get rid of unwanted junk in the sea as well as oil spill. The wonderful nation of Veganas top scientists also claims that the "cleaners" will dissolve in a environmentally friendly way within a month or two. Heil our glorious leader the Benevolent Jaar!

Hey, in our eyes, WE are the good guys. And no, but we demand some balance in the game. Not the 50 heroic embassy workers armed with toothpicks defeats the armoured tanks and well trained soldiers dressed in black hats just because you perceive yourself as being a better person. Well, 15 carrier groups outside St. Peter Clavers island, that's pretty much, wonder how many you have. 40 carriers in all according to your factbook. Well, I guess We'll see as you are so nice to continue stepping into our traps. BTW, I'm in top 200 of the world in IT.

Um the embassy was guarded with about 300 well-armed and well-trained soldiers. The mob had, at best, AK-47s and RPGs. It was like Black Hawk Down, thoguh you did godmod the mob.

And the war was going along just fine until you all decided to jump on the bandwagon. :mad:

Not to mention the fact that I was going to participate in a nice little conflict RP in Panama until I read this thread and, well...

And if you OOC think you're the "good guys," you should be banned.

IC:

Telegrams Express Of The Order: WE DELIVER! (And Keep it confidential, too!

To Syskeyian Command
From General Vance R. Kaerion, Commander/Owner, Kaerion's Kestrels, Mercs for Hire

RE: The Reich

To the Syskeyian High Command:
For some time now, I have operated against The Reich, both covertly during the Black Suits scandals, and overtly, such as in the Amerigan War. I would lie if I said they were merely an annoyance to me. Because of the information that has entered my hands recently regarding the latest actions of the Reich, I am prepared to give you whatever services of the Order you desire. Even STARMOR, or our irreplacable Tempest. Free of charge, no questions asked. It is time those of us who believe in decency to stand up against the night, the night of bigotry, of prejudice, of facisim. It is time we stood against the Opressors. Even we, a Mercenary state, normally our loyalties bought by the highest bidder can see this, and are prepared to make the sacrifices. The time has come to Draw the Line.
Respectfully,
General Vance Reginald Kaerion, Commander/Owner of Kaerion's Kestrels, former Lord-Commander of The BlackWolf Order.

Top Secret (if you're like Hack, you can intercept it, if you can't, well) Telegram to the BlackWolf Order
From: Benedict Michael Sukothai, President and First Consul of the Republic of Syskeyia
To: General Vance Reginald Kaerion, Commander/Owner of Kaerion's Kestrels, former Lord-Commander of The BlackWolf Order
Re: The Reich

Your offer is accepted.

God bless,

Benedict Michael Sukothai
President and First Consul of the Republic of Syskeyia

Um the embassy was guarded with about 300 well-armed and well-trained soldiers. The mob had, at best, AK-47s and RPGs. It was like Black Hawk Down, though you did godmod the mob.

And the war was going along just fine until you all decided to jump on the bandwagon. :mad:

Not to mention the fact that I was going to participate in a nice little conflict RP in Panama until I read this thread and, well...

And if you OOC think you're the "good guys," you should be banned.



Well, if you really haven't figured it out, that mob was armed and the attack on the Embassy was planned by governements, Thus the tanks and the other firework. You stood about as much a chance as a armed civilians in the Square of holy peace, AkA a snowflake in hell. I am sorry if we failed to make it obvious enough, but we really tried. Ofcourse we believe we are the good guys OOC, we wear the flashy sexy colours and we have a cool fundamentalistic image. To quote the great poet Mel Brooks "Don't be stoopid be a smarty, C'mon join the Nazi party!" And we even add some religious fundamentalism as crust on the cake. ;-) . Ehh.. You know that this only is a game, don't you?

IC:
The Flycrafts, strangely enough unintercepted, continued their deadly path towards the Syskeyian Coastline. On the carriergroups far far away the chorus of strong male voices were heard making homage to God and the holy crusade against heretics and worshipper of rats.

Of course we believe we are the good guys OOC, we wear the flashy sexy colours and we have a cool fundamentalistic image. To quote the great poet Mel Brooks "Don't be st(u)pid be a smarty, C'mon join the Nazi party!" And we even add some religious fundamentalism as crust on the cake. ;-) . Ehh.. You know that this only is a game, don't you?

Um, you actually think that the religion-twisting fascists are the ones who are morally right? Are you the kind of person who would have supported the Nazis had you lived during WWII? If you, you're psycho. crazy, and evil.

Yes, I do know it is a game. So why aren't you, who are by any sane definition the villians, WILLING TO LOSE?!

IC:
The Flycrafts, strangely enough unintercepted, continued their deadly path towards the Syskeyian Coastline. On the carriergroups far far away the chorus of strong male voices were heard making homage to God and the holy crusade against heretics and worshipper of rats.

But then, a patrolling F-22 squadron intercepted the wretched Flycrafts. More fighters scrambled into action, and the game was on...

Meanwhile, the Syskeyian federal government issued a warning to stay away from the oceans. A Veganan bio attack had been detected in the sea, and nobody wanted to be the victim of evil machinations thought of by the blasphemous Reich.

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyia

Just an OOC note:

I'm going on a trip for a few weeks. I might not have the itme to post tomorrow and Friday I begin the trip, so the RP will be frozen from Friday onward, to resume when I get back.

And no, you can't laucnh terrorist attacks on me during the time I'm gone.

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyua

The Islamic peoples of the reich are sick of the horror of the syskeyian government - we shall suffer no longer the dominance that Syskeyian christianity wishes to apply to the world.
the syskeyian crusader is the enemy of god,therefore the syskeyian crusader is the enemy of all islam!
I - Sultan Omar - therefore extend to my honorable long time allies the hand of peace and the blood of Islamic people in this war against the tryant Syskeyia!
all SATO is but dust beneath our feet!honor to the reich, her allies and all of gods beloved!
inshalla allah - we cannot lose

~Sultan Omar

for the first time in years a large naval force left north star waters - the green flags of islam proudly flying above these ships of the carrier assualt force as they steamed towards 'ole pete island'

Optimal range of an Phoenix 2 AAM away from the Syskeyian B-52s/F-16Es

Flugcapitan Yevginy Ritchie watched his HUD tick down, red numbers changing to green as the Swallow fighter slid into optimal range for the long-ranged Phoenix 2 LR-AAM to launch.
His WSO confirmed all systems green and Yevginy began selecting targets from amongst the Syskeyian BUFFs and F-16s, murmuring a prayer for luck as he did, the seeker heads on the P-2 were very advanced, utilising technology disseminated amonst the Reich by Vegana, but a little faith never hurt anyone's efforts.
Target selection completed, he started tapping the launch button for the big AAMs.
The last Phoenix hissed off the rails, and Yevginy rolled away, selecting SR-AAMs in case any Syskeyian's survived the incoming storm of missiles, a storm indeed, for all his fellows from the God's Own Battlegroup carriers were also launching, 72 aircraft hurling just under 300 of the long ranged missiles, well out of reach for anything the F-16s could mount.
Yevginy started a holding pattern, waiting for the missiles to home in and decimate the incoming bombers and fighters. He grinned and patted his fighter. Now he would demonstrate why pure interceptors were still superior to any "multi-role" fighter ever made. Oh yes. God was good.

Deck of the G.O.S Waikato Chiefs.

Meanwhile, back with the fleet, the carriers were launching their strike aircraft, the Locusts climbing skyward, roaring hungrily off toward the Syskeyian carrier groups, escorted by the Swallows from the two battlegroups who hadn't launched theirs already.
Behind the fighters the warships kept boring onward to link up with the rest of the Reich groups, turrets already panning toward the satellite-given location of the rat goddess worshippers.

O.O.C
A God's Own battlegroup consists of
1 DN (Mordred Class, Heavy/Missile Gun loadout)
4 BB (Bismarck Class, most flak cannon swapped out for AAMs and smaller calibre guns for missiles.)
3 CA (Prince Eugen Class, same as above.)
4 FF (ANZAC Class, as RL equivalent.)
3 CVN (Nimitz Class, Swallow:F-14, Locust:F/A-18, in role and general capabilities.)
And there are 3 of these BGs.

Just an OOC note:

I'm going on a trip for a few weeks. I might not have the itme to post tomorrow and Friday I begin the trip, so the RP will be frozen from Friday onward, to resume when I get back.

And no, you can't laucnh terrorist attacks on me during the time I'm gone.

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyua

OOC: Gotcha, and man, you have to learn to understand irony... I thought quoting a jewish comedian from a movie that ridicules nazism would be enough...

IC: The flycrafts sped towards the coastline, even at their high speed they were easy targets for the Syskeyian airforce since they seemed to fly a straight path. One by one they were picked of and dove into the sea quickly dissappearing in the waves, glowing shrapnels of melting and burning metal. The few that still wasn't shot down continued and harmlessly crashed onto the coastline of Syskeyia.

Veganian Bulletin

God is Great! Our evil enemies in the Rat worshipping heretic land of Syskeyia today fired upon our unarmed environmental agents. WE don't know what the blasphemers has against a better environment or why they shot at our Cleaner-deployers but Veganian authorities looks very serious on this crime!

Yes, I do know it is a game. So why aren't you, who are by any sane definition the villians, WILLING TO LOSE?!


[OOC: "Evil will always win, because Good is Dumb."

More importantly, never have the Reich (and others) claimed to be unwilling to lose. However, they currently have your balls nailed to the wall with overwhelming force.

Not that you've bothered to ask about Eurusea's forces. You might want to do that, instead of just relying on your supposed intrinsic "goodness" to save you.]

The Royal islamic North Star Carrier Abdul-Aliyy and the R.I.N.S carrier Abdul-Azim cruised to link with their reich sister fleets.
Steaming with them were dozens of support craft - Ajax,Gjinn and Servant class vessels moved to carry out their roles.
Several Ajax ASW destoyer commanders had already attacked hostile 'signatures' - they had all turned out to be false alarms but no-one was taking any chances.
In the middle of the fleet sat the Salah al Din , a massive battleship that served as command vessel and as a massive rocket battery - already aboard was the buzz of excitement at the coming battle. The fleet admiral aboard - Admiral Arsu - waited for word from his sister reich fleets patiently.
Over head flew the carrier aircover and behind them eventually would come the land based long ranged bombers - striking Peter claver island for the honor of all the reich.
beneath the fleet roamed several sleek black submarines. their crews being the front line in defence against a silent enemy.

Royal Palace - North Star
"my dearest husband. perhaps this war isnt the best thing right now" Hatusu purred into her husbands ear as she read reports over his shoulder.
"nonsense. the rebels will see our strength when they see the destruction of syskeyia! besides it keeps the people happy to see this"
Hatusu paused. There was some sense in the old mans words but so many loyal troops were being prepared for this foriegn campaign - it made her worry.

Captain Pugwash sat in his room reading his latest notes on war. He noticed someone walking outside his door, he immediately recognised the limping walk of Seaman Staines, a second later there was a knock on the door. Enter! he said. Seaman Staines entered his room, manly as ever with a swaggering walk. His quick pace scared the parrot in the room, causing it to flap its wing and almost fall off its pin. "HEIL VICTORY!" It squawked. Staines and Pugwash looked at eachother, was this a sign?

YE OOC BULLSHIT

And BTW, Eurusea, what the heck does the whole "lost girl & abandoned area #34" have ANYTHING to do with the whole Eurusean-Syskeyian war? Why cannot the threads be separate?

Because I want to get more than one thing done in the course of this thread? Because it allows me to add to Eurusea's background at the same time as doing a war thread? Because it took over a month for you to answer [and then all I got was an emoticon] and frankly I got tired of waiting? Ultimately, because it's my thread?

Yes, I do know it is a game. So why aren't you, who are by any sane definition the villians, WILLING TO LOSE?!

As the 'good guy,' why haven't you bothered trying to negotiate, or even asked what's going on? And, um, last I checked, even when the whole 'good vs. evil and good must win' actually meant something the bad guys tend to be on top for a while before they lose, otherwise the good guys' victory is utterly meaningless. How much less effective would the final scene of Star Wars have been if the Death Star hadn't already destroyed Alderaan? Who would have given a damn about Die Hard if John McLane had re-taken the Nakatomi building before Gruber had done anything evil?

Also, I am willing to lose, but being as you've been outmanoeuvred and are currently surrounded and horribly outgunned, it's not an enormously likely scenario; there's a difference between willing to lose and willing to not bother putting up a fight. I think the real question here is why aren't you willing to lose, since this isn't a morality play, so 'good' does not necessarily have to win [since 'good' and 'evil' are subjective at the best of times and useless here], and you're not necessarily 'good' just because we're 'bad' anyway? Perhaps you should have tried diplomacy rather than sabre rattling, hm?

'To subdue the enemy without fighting is the acme of skill'
-Sun Tzu, 'The Art of War,' chapter 3, point 3

<spacewank>

Um, since Vegana's been kind enough to leave the Reich Space Fleet out of this, we'd appreciate if you'd follow suit. Powered armour is fine, powered armour with the offensive / defensive capabilities of a battleship is not. No spacedystuff, no pocket Gundams.

The Eurusean Levithan, which is a godmoddery all of its own (2,000 feet of sky? going at what speed to come around behind your B52s?). Also, with even the most advanced radars, it would still appear larger than a C5 on any radar system...and while he's right about the lack of air escourt, SAMs should rip it a few new assholes before he got that close...seriously, a 2000ft wingspan?

Western Asia seems to think 'behind' means 'within four feet of.' It's at stand-off range [and still not too hard to see, being bloody enormous], using unpleasantly powerful nuclear engines to get the kind of speed talked about. I never made any claim it wouldn't appear on radar, in fact I explicitly said it's image was unbelievably big so I don't know where the hell that came from. Western Asia also seems to think that there are SAM belts lurking around in the middle of the ocean. Him deluded.

Can we TRY to keep the useless OOC bitching and 'that's impossible because Western Asia, great sage of NS technology, says so!' to a minimum? Let's try roleplaying...

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

Airspace near Syskeyian bomber squadron

'Comrade-Captain, I have fighter squadrons approaching our position from the island on the OTH radar.'

Captain Ivanov shook his head, 'Give me the bomber squadron again.' He flicked the microphone of his headset down, smiling humourlessly. 'This is Hand of Lenin to Syskeyian squadron. Comrade, there was a reason for that vector, but I'm afraid I don't appreciate stalling for time, since I have a radar too. Goodbye.'

The Hand of Lenin's bomb bay doors dropped open, hundreds of SOAAM* missiles dropping out in packs of twenty and streaking towards the Syskeyian bomber formation.

[That'd be Stand-Off Air-to-Air Missile]

Eurusean Office of Foreign Affairs

Sergei grinned as he read the report, rolling a clean sheet into the typewriter to type up a speech for the Floating Fortresses' broadcast systems. He smiled as he got to one part, about evacuating museum pieces instead of civilians, 'Wow, couldn't have done that better myself...' and started typing, resting his cigarette on the edge of his Syskeyian dictionary.

'Comrades of Saint Peter Claver Island,

The Reich is not your enemy. We desire the same thing as yourselves, peace and understanding, friendship and brotherhood among all men. Our quarrel is not with the Syskeyian people, it is with your evil and corrupt leaders who have left you here to die. Did you not watch, comrades, as they emptied the museum, taking away their precious trinkets and papers while leaving you, your families, your children, here to their fate? Comrades of Syskeyia, is such a government worthy of your loyalty?

Surrender, comrades, lay down your arms, there is no need for bloodshed. If you wish to surrender, simply lay down your weapons and wait in your home. When the heroic troops of The Reich liberate you from your oppressive government, you will be treated with dignity and respect.

Lay down your arms, comrades, you will lose nothing but your chains.'

Sergei slotted the message cylinder into the tube and pressed the button for the correct office, smiling and pouring himself a shot of vodka.

Floating Fortress Alternate, Waters near St Peter Claver Island

Alternate had been broadcasting the message with slight variations along with a couple of speeches of similar content from Comrade Nicole for over an hour now. The commanding officer, General Kyznetsov, stubbed out her cigarette and looked out of the 'windscreen.' In fact, it was no such thing; the image was relayed from the bridge down here to the combat bridge, buried deep in the heart of the enormous vessel.

She glanced across at the huge cloud of black smoke spreading from the sinking battleship Will of Stalin, her props already out of the water, turning slowly. As she watched, one of the old seaplanes broke loose from it's catapult and slid down the deck, sweeping dozens of men still trying to get off the deck into the sea. Damn meltdowns, they should have scrapped that fucking bucket of rust years ago.. She turned to the crew, 'God is great! The heroes on the Will of Stalin will be avenged! This cowardly attack will be the last act of imperialism against our glorious fleet by the evil rat-worshippers!' the crew cheered, 'Fire off VLS cells Able to How, target major road interchanges, water purification, power stations, transformers and substations, communications antennas, runways, radar and large civilian buildings. Also target the military bases' civilian housing. Wait ten minutes, then discharge cells Item to Mike at schools, hospitals, churches, large assembly halls and police and fire stations.'

She grinned, 'Tell Ritardando to open fire on the Syskeyian fleet's carriers at the same time as we fire our five thousands, shrapnel rounds should do for disabling their carrier decks.' She smiled, 'Use the Morse lamp, not the radio.'

As the sun set, eight flashes lit up Alternate's foredeck, then eight more on Ritardando's, thick trails of smoke following the flares of the heavy mortar rounds as they rose slowly into the sky. Flashes all along the length of the two Floating Fortresses sent hundreds of thinner trails into the sky, those curving over and streaking towards the island.

The mortar rounds curled over at the top of their arc, falling quickly towards their targets. With a crack, each exploded, the trails spreading and multiplying, looking like willow tree branches. From the shore of the island, it might almost have seemed beautiful; from the decks of the carriers, the car-sized lumps of red-hot shrapnel would have seemed anything but.

Woods near Abandoned Area #34

Anya smiled, 'I think I can get us some light, hold on...' she puts her hands together one on top of the other, then parts them slightly, concentrating. 'Don't look for a moment, holding the first flash in is a little difficult...''

There was bright flash, then, as the extraction team looked around, light. Turning to Anya, they blinked. Between her hands was a seething ball of fire that looked for all the world like a tiny star. She smiled, 'Um, will this do?'

Woods near Abandoned Area #34

Uyo yelps softly from up in the tree, not blinded, but clearly startled. Down on the ground Ieyoshi looked at the ball of fire, "Yeah... that works. I've never seen anything like that before... that's amazing..."

>>WiFi Encrypted: Ieyoshi to Futami: What the Hell? Is this level of power even possible?
>>WiFi Encrypted: Futami to Ieyoshi: I've heard rumor that Field Marshal Embersby can... but that's never been proven... or witnessed.
>>WiFi Encrypted: Futami to Team: Okay gang... this girl would break records at ISTP, we have to be sure that Eurusea doesn't get her.
>>WiFi Encrypted: Fusayoshi to Team: Hai. Looks like Day was right.

Fusayoshi smiled a little at Anya, "Whenever you're ready, we need to get moving. We're hoping to hook up with the resistance, and get you out of here, and to someplace safe."

Somewhat closer to St. Peter Claver Island than in the last post

The preparations had been done, and Admiral Juriel looked fairly satisfied, watching the fleet preparing... Barely being able to see the other vessels, the distance between the ships being 1- 4 kilometers on average.

"Looks like the first skirmishes have started... Now, it's time to join, I guess." He whistled, then, the orders came in. Gods will had to be fulfilled. And in his dreams, Gods will had been revealed...

A moment later, his orders were out.

Saiana watched in awe as the planes started, one by one, more, more... Heading for the field of honour, where they would finally fulfill their destiny.

The crews on the ships were singing, singing of this beautiful, this glorious day, the day they fulfilled the destiny, the day their swords would be used against the Syskeyian heathens, this heretics who denied, twisted, corrupted the truth of the book.

A whole cloud, it was, the fighters and bombers heading towards their targets, the Syskeyian fleet, the island... A few staying behind, as protection.

Beneath the surface, wolves were moving, submarines, slowly... Searching for their prey. Saiana knew about them... She could hardly wait, seeing them, destroying the enemy. Purifying the misguided souls with their fire.

What a glorious day.

She watched a few helicopters patrolling the sea, searching for possible threats for the fleet, then, again, the sky, the planes leaving white trails as they ascended, heading towards their targets... It would still be a while until they would arrive, nonetheless...

Like the wings of an angel...

And the flaming swords of the Cherubim would strike, again.

In the planes, the pilots were praying, singing, concentrating on their mission, ready to purify the sea from the Syskeyian sinners, from this disease whose only purpose was to be eradicated... As another step to prove to god that they, that EC was ready.

That they had recreated eden.

Meanwhile, in EC, reinforcements were readied.

[size=0]YE OOC BULLSHIT

Um, since Vegana's been kind enough to leave the Reich Space Fleet out of this, we'd appreciate if you'd follow suit. Powered armour is fine, powered armour with the offensive / defensive capabilities of a battleship is not. No spacedystuff, no pocket Gundams.


Okay, now that I cooled down, since I get testy when I get related to any kind of 'wank', I'll re-write this posting

First off, they can be destroyed. Example, things like railguns, plasma, really well guided HARPOON Anti-ship missiles, ect. Second, I've only got six of 'em.
Third, they're more as a story filler than anything else, they're there as necessary. We're not talkin gundams, indeed.

But, since you are objecting, and since I've not made a noticable effect upon this thread yet, and since this IS your thread, I'll withdraw my postings.

OOC: Throwing my two cents in with the OOC bullshit, it strikes me that maybe an OOC thread to organise this war would've made for a much enjoyable roleplaying experience from the beginning, however, we can't very well go back and change what has been done now, so let's all try to move forward and have some fun.

IC: Sitting in the stately ball room of a converted luxury liner, the IMS Impératrice Isabelle, now a troop transport, Field Marshal Andronicus Kantenozous stood at the head of a table of senior Pantocratorian Imperial Defence Legion officers, holding a glass of champagne.

"Your Grace, gentlemen, I would like to propose a toast." he said, as the table fell silent. "To His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty the Emperor, and to our Syskeyian brothers and sisters now under siege by the forces of the Reich."

"Hear, hear!" came the reply from the table, and everyone drank their champagne. Kantenozous sat back down.

"We'll show those Eurusean bastards, what what!" boasted the dashing Duc de Montmanuel, the commander of the Imperial Equites Legion, as he poured another glass of champagne for himself. "They'll never know what hit them!"

Kantenozous looked away from the table to the band playing next to the grand staircase, a dark look on his face. Despite the optimism of his aristocratic subordinate, he didn't much like their chances in the upcoming conflict.

"How long until we reach St Peter Claver Island anyway, sir?" General Bulgaronctus, commander of the Fourth Provincials, asked his fellow commanders.

"Not long, not long at all." replied the Duke. "But not soon enough!"

"The problem is," said the Field Marshal, turning his attention back to the table. "The Euruseans are almost certain to land on the island before we are... at least, they could if they wanted to. We may find that when we get there that the Syskeyians have been overrun, and Eurusean troops are sitting in their fortresses. We'd have to launch a fresh assault."

"Well, that would be a nightmare scenario, sir." replied General Bulgaronctus.

"Nonsense, I for one would welcome a challenge, what what. My boys are ready for it!" boasted de Montmanuel.

"Your boys may be, Your Grace, but with all due respect, your boys are sitting inside heavily armoured tanks." snapped Bulgaronctus. "My troops have nothing between them and the muzzle of an enemy rifle except air and the hand of God."

"You mean they're cowards, more likely!" proclaimed the Duke defensively.

"They'll account for themselves well enough, Your Grace, you can state your estate on that!" replied Bulgaronctus, offended.

"All of our boys will do well enough, I'm sure!" interrupted the Field Marshal. "Let us pray that that is enough."

OOC: I figure that pretty much anyone already in or around Syskeyia is going to be able to beat me to St Peter Claver island, so let me know if anybody wants to block my troops, or if they think their own troops should arrive before mine.

A cubicle in the ministry of Foreign Affairs

Two Foreign Affairs employees were discussing the attack, and what had to be done.
"Hmm... yes. That attack on Syskeyia. Quite un-nice. What did the minister say?"
"He is devastated", replied the other followed by a wry smile. "Actually, I was assigned to write the condemnation. 'Not too harsh', as they said, 'but helpful'. The Chimaeans and such want it."
"Really? Is writing condemnation part of your set of tasks? I thought that was left to the third floor."
"It usually is. But now it isn't. Anyway, I've got a condemnation to write."


Statement by the Knootian ministry of Foreign Affairs
“The Dutch Democratic Republic strongly condemns the military action taken against the Republic Syskeyia.

This attack is unprovoked, unwarranted and illegal. The Knootian government calls for an immediate cessation of hostilities and we hope that the invading parties will elect to use peaceful means to accomplish their objectives in the future.."

Official Responce to the DDR:

Sod off and mind your own damn business.

The two carriergroups made a sharp Starboard turn after letting out all their balloons. As satellites in the area begun to go *BZZT FUZZ SHIVER* Fighter wings and bombers started to launch into the air from the 6 carriers flying low, just above the sea level. Moving in a direction not entirely parallell to the 2 carrier groups.

The fighter wings that had followed the flycrafts came in from high altitude attacking the Syskeyian Squadron preoccupied with shooting at the minedropping Flycrafts. Even this close to Syskeyian coastline the Syskeyian fighters were fierce, Flight Lieutenant Lance Higgins, were happy that the Syskeyian crafts had focused their first attack on the drones, thus making it easier for the Veganian fighterwings to swoop down on them. He was happy that the Syskeyians had taken the bait.

OOC: Throwing my two cents in with the OOC bullshit, it strikes me that maybe an OOC thread to organise this war would've made for a much enjoyable roleplaying experience from the beginning, [...]
Your wish is granted. (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=6810434)

IC:

The evacuating had commenced, and was proceeded at a lighting's pace.

Women and children fled first, followed by the civilian men. Some of the men, equipped with rifles and such, chose to stay behind and help the soldiers defend the island.

But the majority of civilians were fleeing.

Airliners, cargo planes, anyhting that could house people and fly had been jammed full of noncombatants and flown straight for New Nicaea. Even the C-17s assigned to fly the 38th Airborne were not spared the task.

All the while the soldiers and sat and waited.

Most of them prayed, many prepped for battle, and the thought of one soldier expressed what everyone felt:

It's Embassy time.

[RP frozen again. :) ]

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyia

<insanity>

OOC: Um, no. Eurusean ships have just opened fire on civilian targets on the island, so unless you're trying to have planes take off while the runways are being attacked, your post is nonsense.

Woods near Abandoned Area #34

Anya smiled gently, holding the glowing ball of fire just above the palm of her hand, 'My daddy always used to say it was my special star...' she sniffled a little, and hugged Ieyoshi.

Train station near the Kesselstan border

The station was in a surprisingly good state of repair, a stark contrast to the collapsing and corroded structures the team will have seen elsewhere. The red stars on the building walls were carefully polished and the engines themselves pristine and carefully-maintained, huge black armoured things with the Eurusean flag and a large 'CCCP' painted on the side of them. Behind the two locomotives several flatbeds of antiaircraft guns and an armoured carriage with a tank turret were coupled before the passenger cars, with another pair of flatbeds after.

There seemed to be a lot of Commissars and soldiers around the train, checking passes carefully. As the team glanced around, they also noticed posters of Anya, offering a significant reward for information regarding her whereabouts.

At the edge of the platform a nervous-looking young man lingered, holding a heavy case. One of the Commissars eventually tapped him on the shoulder, 'Comrade, you've been here for two hours...Who are you waiting for?'

The man looked worried, 'Um, my sister, comrade...She is late.'

The Commissar nodded, 'I need to check your permit, do you have it?'

The man fished around in his pockets, producing some paperwork in a leather wallet. The Commissar looked it over, sighing, 'You stupid bastard, where's your renewal?'

The man blinked, 'Um, I only just received it comrade, I forgot to bring it along.'

The Commissar shook his head, 'See that it doesn't happen again.'

As the man turned, a woman knocked him over, his case breaking open as it hit the ground, spilling out papers and documents. The Commissar blinked, 'Resistance...This man is a spy!' he drew his gun, two soldiers running over and grabbing the protesting man's arms, dragging him outside. A shot rang out a moment later.

On the platform, soldiers quickly piled the documents back into the case.

Since Syskeyia had the time to do a small IC post here and monstrous posts in the ooc thread, I'm assuming that my approaching planes are sorta... Unopposed.

Somewhat close to St. Peter Claver Island

The units attacking the island itself were rather small, about 1/4 of the available planes. 32 bombers, together with 32 fighters, heading in...

"Dear god, what is that?"

Turiel's rhetorical question was quite... Well, understandable. A lot of defenseless airfcraft flying around... Carrying... well, whatever.

On the ground, he would have seen a few wreckages, apparently, the runways had been shelled... Resulting in rather annoying accidents. However, he was, at this point, somewhat occupied with other things as to pay attention to them.

"Why? They could have fighters up here to oppose us, and they send this?!"

He didn't know the answer. Or rather, he did know the answer.

"Our Lord gave them into our hands! Lets honour his grace by killing the heathens! For his glory!"

And the air was filled with the reply, the voices of the pilots, screaming out with pleasure, knowing that they would fulfill his will... "FOR HIS GLORY!"

With that, laser guided bombs and missiles were let loose, though the Syskeyian defenses, SAMs from the island, began to disturb them... One who was hit didn't waste any time, and made sure his plane would hit one of the larger buildings he could see, heading towards it... Falling, and eventually vanishing with a scream, fulfilling his fate. "GOD IS GREAT!" he shouted, the last thing he did before he vanished in a flash of fire, in a cloud of smoke... taking them with him.

And meanwhile, noticing the distinct lack of Syskeyian fighters, half of their own changed their course, heading towards the transporters they saw, not knowing that they were evacuating civilians... Children...

"Fire."

And the missiles crossed the skies, hunting, searching for their prey...

And the Lord was pleased, for their harvest was great.

Somewhat close to one Syskeyian Battlegroup nearby

"Target lock... FIRE!"

It was a song... A beautiful song, and they were singing, humming its tune... They had been unopposed, but now, with 96 bombers in loose formation, spread across several kilometers, letting loose their missiles... It was unlikely the Syskeyians would wait for much longer to send their fighters after them.

Well, at least that was what common sense dictates.

"Beautiful..." One of the younger Cherubim said, watching the missiles heading towards the Syskeyian fleet... He knew just as well as the others that he had just furthered the ways of his Lord... His god.

"HEIL GOD!" They shouted, watching, following them... The fighter escort spreading out, expecting the counterattack as they turned around.

The EC fleet

"First waves got through without opposition. Damage reports expected to come in soon, my lord."

"Good. Very good. The Lord has confused their senses, to make them such an easy prey..." Juriel smiled, satisfied. Indeed, this was like shooting clay pigeons... Heck, the Cherubim's training was harder than this real mission.´"How long until we're close enough for direct support?"

"About three quarters an hour, my lord."

"Very good. All men prepare. Soon, we will be the shining light over the skies of St. Peter Clavers!"

And the bells sounded, telling the Cherubim that the time had come... They were about to fulfill their destiny.

To destroy the darkness of Syskeyia. To fight the demons that possessed them, the demons twisting the truth of the book, turning Syskeyia into the outpost of hell it was.

They would be cleansed.

Saiana however, went inside. There wasn't much to do for her, now. She was the inquisition, her job would come soon enough... Cleaning St. Peter Clavers from the sinners, the heretics, the fools, the demons possessing the Syskeyians...

But she would liberate them from the foul disease.

Yes, she would...

She smiled as she took out her equipment, testing it... It had to be ready, in that hour... Idly wondering if she would be able to get her hands on Sukothai... Or whatever his name was.

Good point, EC.

Saint Peter Claver Island drew nearer, the coastline was now clearly visible. Civilian and military structures were coming into view, the defence forces strangely lacking. Not that the pilots cared, of course; who were they to complain about an easy run? The six wings of bombers and escort split from each other. The three with high explosives and cluster bombs heading towards the military targets, the three with the FAE's heading towards civilian areas.

After all, Abatoir had always believed that crushing the will of the populace was just as important as crushing their forces.

OOC:
C'mon lads, lets not make a Resi out of this. He asked for some time, let him have it. There's quite a lot of attacks to respond to so I believe he will have to spend a greater effort on this one. Don't post too quickly let him read through it and try to respond to a manageable number of posts.

IC:

"GOD IS GREAT!! DEATH TO THE RAT WORSHIPPING HEATHENS!! The screams came from thousands of throats and sounded like thunder around the fleet. Michael O'Grady Screamed out his hatred against the evil Syskeyians and his joy of being in Gods army. High Inquisitor Peter Karlsson stepped up and rose his hands into the air. The time has come! The time for vengeance for the innocent lives. To defend the one true faith! To make glory for God! To purify the heathens and let their souls purify! Hallalujah! Hossianah! Glory to God! God is Glory!"

The Imperial Cabinet, New Rome

"This is madness, the Syskeyians have barely lifted a finger at the negotiating table to prevent this!" Princess Irene raged at her cabinet ministers, pacing up and down the long dark stone table. "And now, the Emperor's policy of support and assistance for Syskeyia despite the seeming unwillingness of their own government to assist itself runs the risk of making Pantocratoria a target for these lunatics!"

"May I remind Your Highness that it was once your policy that Pantocratoria should regard the nations of the Reich in somewhat more friendly terms?" asked Sir Jacques Antoniou, the Minister for Foreign Affairs.

"Ancient history!" snapped Irene. "Besides, the principle is sound! Who wants heavily armed fundamentalists gunning for you?"

"The Emperor insisted that we honour our alliance and defend Syskeyia against this aggression!" says Sir Jacques.

"By all means we should assist them in their defence, but it is irresponsible of Sukothai's government to drag us into this when they seem unwilling to seek a diplomatic solution! Well, if he won't, we will, do you understand me?" Irene concluded.

"Yes, Chancellor." replied Sir Jacques. He was soon echoed all over the cabinet table.

***

http://members.optusnet.com.au/a_marrington/ns/pantocratoria.jpg

TO: Premier Kurchatov, the Glorious People's Republic of Eurusea
FROM: HIH the Rt Hon the Imperial Chancellor the Most Pious Princess Irene Capet, the Empire of Pantocratoria

Madam Premier,

I write to you personally, one head of government to another, to ask you whether the matter of the Syskeyian War may be brought to a close as quickly as possible, with as little bloodshed as possible. I am advised that shots have already been fired, and I sincerely apologise that as of yet you have received no serious diplomatic overtures. I understand that you may feel that the time has passed to negotiate, but I humbly ask that you hear me out in any case.

Pantocratoria has been dragged into this conflict as a result of her alliance with the Syskeyian Republic, an alliance we thoroughly intend to uphold. But despite the strength of our bonds with Syskeyia, we must confess to be unimpressed that more has not been done in an attempt to resolve this at the negotiating table before Pantocratorians are to be placed in peril in the defence of foreign soil.

You have demonstrated your strength, and your resolve. I ask that you present terms to Syskeyia, and that the two of you enter into negotiations over those terms, in the hope that some diplomatic solution may be reached which is acceptable to you whilst sparing us all the horror of war. You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

In the sincerest hopes of your reply,

Irene
Imperial Chancellor of Pantocratoria

The fighter wings that had followed the flycrafts came in from high altitude attacking the Syskeyian Squadron preoccupied with shooting at the minedropping Flycrafts. Even this close to Syskeyian coastline the Syskeyian fighters were fierce, Flight Lieutenant Lance Higgins, were happy that the Syskeyian crafts had focused their first attack on the drones, thus making it easier for the Veganian fighterwings to swoop down on them. He was happy that the Syskeyians had taken the bait.

Onboard The Nephilim Smiter
Admiral Moran himself oversaw the loading of the cannisters into the artillery cannons. They were set on exploding over ground, spreading their deadly agent with the wind. Marine Norm McCallagh pushed the button that loaded one of the long cannisters into the tube. Normally he would have felt sorry for the poor victims of this barrage but this time was different. This time he was fighting devils in human shape, he remembered the pictures he had seen on tv on innocent Veganians being dragged after cars and butchered. He remembered the warnings that had been issued against the unholy Syskeyians. His kids had come home from school one day crying and telling him about the evil Syskeyians and he had promised them that he would protect them from the creatures that abducted children. At first he thought the kids had overreacted, telling eachother stories about all things horrid, but after seeing the newsflashes, he was convinced. He was sure that if there were any decent Syskeyians in this poor city, the lord would surely protect them. The rest would burn in hell.

"Peter Claver Island will burn for the horrors inflicted upon our allies and islam!"
The ja-al bomber flight leader nodded to confirm the propoganda coming in over the airwaves. they were closing in to their targets - 4 wings of strike bombers with escorts.
there targets were whatever reich intell had based onto them - surely the Veganians knew what needed to be smashed!

Meanwhile the fleet arm continued forward, marines aboard knowing that they would soon be tested against the last dogs of SATO - the dead beast of satan.

Woods Near Abandoned Area #34

Ieyoshi smiled happily at Anya, "It's beautiful." She was a little surprized as the girl threw her arms around her, but returned the hug, stroking the girl's hair gently, "Don't worry honey, it'll be okay."

>>WiFi Encrypted: Fusayoshi to Uyo: Uyo, scout on ahead. See if you can hook up with our Resistance contact. We're going to be a little late.
>>WiFi Encrypted: Uyo to Fusayoshi: Hai.

Uyo slung her sniper rifle over her shoulder, climbing down the tree and silently padding through the forest, her eyes shifting back to their low-light setting once she was safely out of the radius of Anya's 'star'. It was an amazing trick, but she was really glad she'd gotten some warning. Having her eyes burned out wasn't exactly something she wanted to do anytime soon.


Outside Train Station, Near Kesselstan Border

Uyo sat on the roof of the water tower not far from the station itself. Climbing it had been a pain, but it gave her a good view of the area, as well as Eurusean movements farther away. She watched the station, frowning and growing more worried, zooming in on the scene before her.

Uyo was easily the most heavily modified member of the Fireteam. When the four Kitsune had been in GMC, she always filled the role of sniper and scout. She was, by far, the sneakiest of the group, and had the best aim; top of her class. When they moved to the Hack and were offered the cybernetic augmentation, she had instantly agreed to the idea. Futami had agreed rather quickly as well. Ieyoshi, actually, had been the hardest to convince, and she ended up with the least number of augmentations.

Uyo had the full suite, and had actually suggested a couple options to the R&D department, such as most of her eye-augs, including the digitally enhanced zooming function she was using right now. Much like a digital camera, zooming in tended to pixilate her view. She couldn't read the name-plate of the guard, for instance, but she could see that he'd been sloppy with something recently. There seemed to be some sort of smeared splotch on his boot. Her best guess was that he'd recently killed someone, as that seemed to be about all the more these Eurusean bastards did. She wished she could check for sure with the scope from her rifle, but she didn't want to take the chance that it might reflect one of the lights and give away her location, which is why she was stuck pressing her ocular zoom to its limits.

The pixilation was starting to give her a headache, so she scaled back to normal, and lay on the water tower, thinking. She was too far away from the others to communicate directly with them: the WiFi had a range of about 10 feet. She feared for the worst. She didn't see their contact, and it appeared that the guard had just been involved in an execution. Of course, it could be coincidence. The contact could be in the bathroom, or could have left when he realised that the people he was meeting were going to be late. She decided to stay there for a few minutes to test the bathroom theory.

When he didn't return, she scanned the rest of the area, sniffing the air. Her naturally sensitive sense of smell also severally augmented by the Hack cybernetics experts. Her scanning led her to leaving the water tower and slinking through the surrounding forest. The coppery smell of blood took her to exactly where the execution had taken place. The body was gone, but there was clearly some evidence of someone being killed here. She couldn't verify who, but her hunch was that it was their contact.

Turning on her heels, she quickly made her way back to the others. They needed a Plan B, and they needed one quickly.

#tag#
Great job Vegana...Make The Reich proud *wipes tears from eyes*

In the deep sea a bumphacked whale singing its eternal song entered a strange school of something looking like jellyfishes. But the signal he got back from his sonar song was somehow strange, he decided to avoid this strange phenomena. At the surface an pelican landed hard trying to catch what he thought was a delicious jellyfish. The explosion echoed over the sea.

OOC: I never retconned the so-called "missilewank" attack. I merely changed the "they would reach the targets thing" to a thought of the commanders. The missiles were fired, and I won't respond to your "attacks" until you acknowledge my EMP attack.

The attack is now written as this:
What followed was a sight to behold, if anyone could behold it. Over two hundred B-52s, arranged according to squadron and in battle spread formation, launched one thousand, nine hundred twenty EMP cruise missiles at the huge Eurusean-Reich fleet.
The missiles would reach their targets, no matter what, the commander thought.

Oh, and the first post of mine in this thread was made on the day I knew of the thread.

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyia

OOC: So this means you're back? Could people start posting their losses? I think Eurusea has answered this in the OOC thread. I'll ask him to post here instead

"islam is life"
the operator BUMPED up the target digits on the missile attack computer.

The Imperial Cabinet, New Rome

"This is madness, the Syskeyians have barely lifted a finger at the negotiating table to prevent this!" Princess Irene raged at her cabinet ministers, pacing up and down the long dark stone table. "And now, the Emperor's policy of support and assistance for Syskeyia despite the seeming unwillingness of their own government to assist itself runs the risk of making Pantocratoria a target for these lunatics!"

"May I remind Your Highness that it was once your policy that Pantocratoria should regard the nations of the Reich in somewhat more friendly terms?" asked Sir Jacques Antoniou, the Minister for Foreign Affairs.

"Ancient history!" snapped Irene. "Besides, the principle is sound! Who wants heavily armed fundamentalists gunning for you?"

"The Emperor insisted that we honour our alliance and defend Syskeyia against this aggression!" says Sir Jacques.

"By all means we should assist them in their defence, but it is irresponsible of Sukothai's government to drag us into this when they seem unwilling to seek a diplomatic solution! Well, if he won't, we will, do you understand me?" Irene concluded.

"Yes, Chancellor." replied Sir Jacques. He was soon echoed all over the cabinet table.

***

http://members.optusnet.com.au/a_marrington/ns/pantocratoria.jpg

TO: Premier Kurchatov, the Glorious People's Republic of Eurusea
FROM: HIH the Rt Hon the Imperial Chancellor the Most Pious Princess Irene Capet, the Empire of Pantocratoria

Madam Premier,

I write to you personally, one head of government to another, to ask you whether the matter of the Syskeyian War may be brought to a close as quickly as possible, with as little bloodshed as possible. I am advised that shots have already been fired, and I sincerely apologise that as of yet you have received no serious diplomatic overtures. I understand that you may feel that the time has passed to negotiate, but I humbly ask that you hear me out in any case.

Pantocratoria has been dragged into this conflict as a result of her alliance with the Syskeyian Republic, an alliance we thoroughly intend to uphold. But despite the strength of our bonds with Syskeyia, we must confess to be unimpressed that more has not been done in an attempt to resolve this at the negotiating table before Pantocratorians are to be placed in peril in the defence of foreign soil.

You have demonstrated your strength, and your resolve. I ask that you present terms to Syskeyia, and that the two of you enter into negotiations over those terms, in the hope that some diplomatic solution may be reached which is acceptable to you whilst sparing us all the horror of war. You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

In the sincerest hopes of your reply,

Irene
Imperial Chancellor of Pantocratoria


Maybe someone will pay attention the second time around...

OOC: Due to an OOC request, the EMP missile attack has been retconned (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=6744500&postcount=53). Eurusea said that tlaks should then begin or something, so this thread may be in need of some revising.

God bless,

The Repulbic of Syskeyia

OOC: Are we going to continue this war or not? :confused:

Well, here's just some things you might see on the island once you invade:
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v123/Syskeyia/sys_m1a3_camo.jpg
Syskeyian M1A3 Abrams tank w/tank roof (minus sandbags, etc.)
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v123/Syskeyia/sys_mtvl.gif
Syskeyian M113+ MTVL APC (Called a "Gavin" by troops)
AH-64X Mangudai Apache VTDP compound attack helicopter
http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/attachment.php?attachmentid=55812
Syskeyian F-16s (minus conformal fuel tanks) in various color schemes
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v123/Syskeyia/m16_m4.jpg
An M16 and an M4 carbine, upgunned for the Remington 6.8 SPC round (A Syskeyian rifle would have three bayonet lugs (one of the bottom, one for each side- only one bayonet per soldier, though.)
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v123/Syskeyia/Sys-3-shot-w_M16.gif
The S2 3-shot underbarrel grenade launcher (with FN2000 aiming system)
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v123/Syskeyia/sys_bdu.gif
A Syskeyian Army BDU and MICH helmet (though the soldier would, in combat, be wearing a ceramic armor vest and his helmet would have "Manchu hair" (http://www.geocities.com/Pentagon/Base/1374/kevlarcamonetragtop.jpg)- scroll down to the part where the guy talks about nets, nylon straps, and the soldier's helmet. Not to mention the camouflage paint covering all possibly exposed skin. :) )

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyia

http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=6897309#post6897309 is for all continuations of aspects of this thread not related to Anya.

Train Station, Kesselstan border

With a loud hiss of stream the train began to move off, the sheer weight of the thing meaning getting up speed was a long task.

Futami raised her rifle as her sensitive ears picked up the sound of footfalls, bringing it to bear before blinking and lowering it again just as Uyo ran into their camp circle; the WiFi communications were proving themselves useful on many levels, in this case: fool-proof identification of a friendly. She made a mental note to add that to her post-mission debriefing report; the folks back at R&D would certainly be interested to hear about it. Teams like hers might just become a bit more common.

Despite the long run, fully loaded with gear, Uyo's breathing remained steady. She moved to Fusayoshi, frowning, "We've... we've got a 'situation'..." She was quick and to the point with her report, essentially detailing the obvious security forces and the fact that she was reasonably certain that their contact was quite dead. As they were trying to figure out what to do, Uyo's ears flicked up, rotating in an almost cat-like manner (something that always disturbed her comrades). She frowned, "We need to move. The train's starting."

Futami blinked at Uyo, "They modded your ears too?"

Uyo grinned, "That's classified, cutie."

Fusayoshi cut off the conversation, "Okay, enough banter, we need to get moving. Ieyoshi, carry the girl." He looked at Natalya, sizing her up; his eyes seeming to focus strangely as he looked her over; a side effect of one of the key modifications he had received. As the team leader, he had been given an eye-suit that Uyo didn't even know about. His eyes were currently scanning Natalya, an extensive sensor suite buried down near his brainstem quickly pulled up rudimentary information on Natalya's current condition. She seemed to be in good health. "Okay, we're looking at a flat run of about 3 klicks." As he talked, Uyo was feeding him information over the WiFi on the train and the speed it seemed to be moving, as well as direction. "We'll try to catch one of their rear freight cars, which hopefully won't be searched. Uyo, you have point. Futami's next followed by Ieyoshi, followed by you," he pointed to Natalya, "I'll take rear." He smiled at Natalya, "If you can't keep up, I'll carry you."

Uyo nodded and started running in the direction of the train, moving quite quickly despite having just made the run. Futami followed. Ieyoshi gently picked up Anya and kissed her cheek, "It'll be okay, honey," and she took off after the other two. Fusayoshi extended his hand in an 'after you' manner and then followed as Natalya ran off.

---

It was a difficult run through the forest, the Kitsune ducking and jumping obstacles as if they weren't there, their movement impossibly fluid even for such a graceful race. Natalya had a much more difficult time keeping up, and there were several moments where Fusayoshi thought he'd have to carry the human, but her determination surprised him. She didn't have the advantage of race, nor of cybernetic augmentation, but she had an endless reserve of will and determination. Fusayoshi was quite impressed with the human; she still viewed herself as Anya's protector, and she wasn't about to let the little girl down.

---

The train was beginning to get up to full speed as they neared it. Uyo's leg muscles tensed as she leaped through the air, grabbing a ladder on the side of the car. She swung across the front of the car and grasped the lock on the door with her free hand. Mindful of her team running alongside the train, she twisted and yanked, pulling off the lock and tossing it aside. She swung back towards the ladder and then out again, pushing the door open with her feet; the door sliding easily on its track.

Uyo continued to hang from the ladder, reaching out with her hand to catch a jumping Futami, using their momentum to gently toss her into the car. Ieyoshi shifted Anya slightly, holding her with one hand, whispering in her ear, "Hang on, honey." She jumped, catching Uyo's hand and was likewise tossed into the car, landing on her feet unsteadily, but managed to avoid falling onto Anya.

Natalya was beginning to show signs of being tired, Fusayoshi running along side her. "Almost there, just jump. Uyo will catch you." Natalya glanced at Fusayoshi, gasping softly and looking a little worried. Fusayoshi frowned, "Sorry in advance, but..." He reached out and grabbed Natalya who squawked in surprise as she was tossed to Uyo who tossed her into the car. Immediately after, Fusayoshi simply jumped into the car, having opted for enhanced leg muscles and figuring that Uyo had worked hard enough already. Uyo quickly followed and closed the door to the car. She walked over to a corner, rubbing her arms and sat down, finally showing signs of being winded. Fusayoshi smiled, glancing at his tired companions, "Yeah... break time. I'll take first watch. You girls get some sleep."

Since the other thread has retconned. I will continue the attack on Syskeyia in this thread. Don't want to loose Euruseas and Hacks wonderful little story.

First class cabin, cruise liner heading for The Most Glorious Hack

Anya and Natalya were both grateful for the chance to finally lie down on clean sheets in clean clothes, Natalya holding Anya tightly the frequent times she woke sobbing. She'd save her grieving for some time Anya didn't need her.

Anya sighed, trying to remember something of her father other than the feeling of his blood soaking her dress...

Kosmar, Eurusea, two years ago

The siren wailed again, 'A nuclear attack drill is currently in progress. All civilians should now be in their assigned shelters; anyone found outside will be shot as a coward and looter, as justice demands! Remain in your shelter until the all-clear has sounded, comrades! Together, we will protect Eurusea from evil!'

General Gorloff grinned and tossed his cigarette aside as a Spetznatz soldier stepped up and saluted sharply, the bayonet on his gun wet with blood, 'Sweep is complete, Commissar-General, all cowardly looters have been dealt with.'

Gorloff nodded, 'Good. Guard this area.' He stepped over to doctor Khrushchev.

Anya sat to one side at a little table that had been pulled up, listening to the waves gently lapping against the harbour walls as she filled in a colouring book she'd been given. Her father scowled at Gorloff out of earshot of her, 'It's still to early for an LIM test.'

Gorloff shook his head, 'The Large Inert Mass test is vital, Comrade-Premier Kurchatov has insisted you prove that your techniques don't damage the subject's abilities in other areas. Otherwise we'll have to stick with the techniques Moroshkin developed.'

Khrushchev frowned, 'Look at yourself! Moroshkin was a fucking butcher, not a surgeon!'

'While your procedure may be less invasive, that's immaterial if the product is inferior. You know that as well as I do.' He glanced out at the battered decommissioned cruiser moored in the bay, 'I could manage two depth marks out of the water at her age.'

Khrushchev sighed, 'And you slipped into a coma and almost died afterwards from overexerting yourself. She's not ready, comrade...'

'The Premier only wants one depth mark, just proof that she can move it is enough.'

Anya tugged on her father's sleeve, 'What's going on, daddy?'

Khrushchev sighed, pointing out at the rusting cruiser, 'Anya, can you see that boat out there in the bay?'

Anya nodded.

'Good. Comrade Gorloff here wants to see if you can lift it,' he smiled, 'Like you do with your ball at home. Don't worry if it's too hard, you won't be punished if you can't do it.'

Anya smiled, 'As high as I can lift it, daddy?'

Khrushchev nodded, scowling at Gorloff.

Anya paused for a moment, then waved her hand towards the ship almost as if slapping it playfully. As her hand reached the middle of the motion the cruiser was hurled into the air like a toy, trailing debris as it rose over a thousand feet into the air. At the apex its keel gave way, the two halves crashing into the water as Anya turned to the stunned pair, looking a little nervous, 'Was that ok, daddy?'

Her father nodded, awe-struck, whispering, 'That was fine, Anya.'

The train ride had been rather uneventful, and even Uyo had managed to relax enough to sleep when she wasn't taking guard duty. Slinking off the train and onto another had been much easier, and didn't involve anybody being tossed through the air. Things continued to move smoothly as they were able to reach the pre-dropped cache and retrieve things like civilian clothing, passports and cash, which made the rest of their trip much, much easier. Surprizingly, the luxury liner had been Uyo's idea, and a healthy bribe had solved the minor problem of Natalya not having a passport, and they found themselves on their way to the Hack.

Ieyoshi had largely been relieved of all duties because of the growing attachment between her and Anya; Fusayoshi felt that she'd be more useful keeping the girl calm, and to keep her from being too worried or afraid, which lead to Ieyoshi and Natalya sharing "Anya-snuggle" duty.

"Enjoying the boat ride, honey?"

Anya sniffled a little, "As much as I can..."

Ieyoshi noded, gently brushing Anya's hair from her face, "I know honey. I wish I could make it better."

"Am I safe now?"

"Yes, you are. This ship is going straight to Chiba City. Nobody's going to hurt you." She smiles, showing her teeth a little, "And I wouldn't let them if they tried."

Anya smiled, hugging her, "Thank you...Thank you for everything."

Natalya looks up, "So nobody's chasing us anymore?"

Ieyoshi smiled at Natalya, "I highly doubt it. Between nabbing you two from under their noses and our... unconventional boarding of the train, we should have lost their agents." She grins, "And Uyo hasn't taken a break: she's still prowling about, making sure the ship's clean." Natalya looked relieved, going back to nursing her bruised leg. "Your leg okay?"

Natalya nods, "I hurt it when we jumped into the train...I think it's ok now."

Ieyoshi winced, "I didn't expect him to throw you... sorry."

Natalya smiles "It's ok," she makes a little 'ow' sound.

Ieyoshi disentangles herself from Anya and digs in her backpack, putting a little topical anesceptic on the leg, "That should help." Natalya winces a little as Ieyoshi touches her leg, gritting her teeth. Ieyoshi frowns a little, "Sorry..." She tends the leg, and hands Natalya some asprin.

Natalya sighs, 'What's going to happen to us now?'

Ieyoshi shrugs slightly, "Not entirely sure. I'm assuming that once we reach the Hack the lot of us with be escorted to speak with Director Day, as this was her idea originally."

Anya blinks, 'But they'll let me stay with you and Natalya, right?'

Ieyoshi grins, "They had better."

Director Day's Office, Corporate Spire, Chiba City, The Hack

"You want to do what with her?" Elisa's eyes were flashing angrily as she looked across her desk at President Solis.

"You heard me, Director. The girl needs to go to Unity Island."

"Dammit, Victor, she's just a girl. We pulled her out of Hell..."

"...without proper authorization, I might add."

Elisa glared, "We pulled her out of Hell, I'm not going to turn around and ship her out of here!" Victor smiled thinly, extracting a platinum cigarette case from his suit pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up. "No smoking in my office."

"Indeed..." He frowned slightly, but extinguished the cigarette before continuing, "Ms Day, I understand your concern, but try to look at it without emotional attachment. Remember the debriefing the team filed. That girl has a level of power that is unheard of. I believe that her "little star" is just that, a little star; otherwise refered to as a fusion reaction. She may be a little girl, but she is also a weapon, regardless of her desires one way or the other. I am not trying to use her as such, I just realise that she is." He paused, letting his words sink in, "We would have to send her to Marshall Island anyway; we are not equipped to deal with such psychic power. Who would train her? Help her keep her power under control? Why not send her to Unity Island, where we can have people more experienced in this sort of thing than we are help her?"

Elisa sighed, realising that not only was Victor right, but that there wasn't much she could do anway, "Okay, fine."

Victor smiled happily, "Do not worry, Elisa. All six will be going with her. The fireteam earned the vacation, and she is far too attached to the Eurusean girl to separate." He grinned slightly, "Just because I am a Hyperborean does not mean I am a heartless bastard."

The fighter wings that had followed the flycrafts came in from high altitude attacking the Syskeyian Squadron preoccupied with shooting at the minedropping Flycrafts. Even this close to Syskeyian coastline the Syskeyian fighters were fierce, Flight Lieutenant Lance Higgins, were happy that the Syskeyian crafts had focused their first attack on the drones, thus making it easier for the Veganian fighterwings to swoop down on them. He was happy that the Syskeyians had taken the bait.


Onboard The Nephilim Smiter
Admiral Moran himself oversaw the loading of the cannisters into the artillery cannons. They were set on exploding over ground, spreading their deadly agent with the wind. Marine Norm McCallagh pushed the button that loaded one of the long cannisters into the tube. Normally he would have felt sorry for the poor victims of this barrage but this time was different. This time he was fighting devils in human shape, he remembered the pictures he had seen on tv on innocent Veganians being dragged after cars and butchered. He remembered the warnings that had been issued against the unholy Syskeyians. His kids had come home from school one day crying and telling him about the evil Syskeyians and he had promised them that he would protect them from the creatures that abducted children. At first he thought the kids had overreacted, telling eachother stories about all things horrid, but after seeing the newsflashes, he was convinced. He was sure that if there were any decent Syskeyians in this poor city, the lord would surely protect them. The rest would burn in hell.

The choirs begun to chant their chants against the pagan worshippers of Syskeyia outside Bendecitia accompanied by the mighty cannons roaring as they released their load over the city, lighting up the skyline, exploding like fireworks over the city releasing a thin misty spray that slowly floated in the air over Bendecitia and the surrounding area.

In the hovercrafts tens of thousands braves were waiting, working up to a frenzy as they saw gods punishement being unleashed on the city. First to leave for the shores under heavy covering artillery fire was the 5:th penal battalion. In the crowded space there was no praying, all the dogcollared men that sat tight together looked grim, they knew that their chances of survival was at best slim, even if they still believed in God he no longer beleived in them. They were the dog soldiers, lowest of the low, with the option to fight and die or just die.

OOC: I'll write the first response to the invasion tomorrow or something. Got writer's block right now & a lot of stuff to do. SO stop posting about the attack until I write something.

Here's a hint to the status of the Syskeyian forces in Bendecitia before the invasion:

"If nothing's wrong, there's nothing wrong- except that nothing's wrong."- Lt. Gen. Hal Moore (ret)

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyia

Bump, Bendecitia <-- SEE I KNOW IT NOW! Yay!

Bendecitia, Austerissima Province

Before the Invasion
XXIX Corps was not exactly the greatest corps in the Army.
Its units, the 85th Infantry, 86th Infantry, 87th Infantry, 57th Armored, and 58th Armored Divisions, had originated as artillery divisions, converted to their current form when the Army brass decided that whole divisions of artillery was just too much of a waste. Still, the divisions of the corps did not exactly reach as low a caliber as the Volksstrum or anything like that.

Moreover, everyone knew that if Syskeyia were to be invaded, the area around New Nicaea would be the primary target. After all, it commanded the entry into the Nikea River, which led into the heart of Syskeyia. A city such as Bendecitia was, strategically speaking, on the periphery of the Republic, and consequently of no political value.

The soldiers thought they had nothing to worry about, trained and worked no more than "necessary" and generally thought everything was all right.

"If nothing's wrong, there's nothing wrong- except that nothing's wrong."- Lt. Gen. Hal Moore (ret)

Right now
"Button down!" some random tanker screamed as the artillery rounds fell like hail all around the 86th's armored brigade. Whether by his shout or their instincts, the tankers all closed their hatches and kept inside their tanks. Since none of the corps' armored units had thought to fit the tank roofs on their vehicles (be that Abrams or Sabras), many AFVs were lost in the artillery barrage.

---

Lt. Gen. Josiah Gargeya, commander of XXIX Corps, spilt coffee on himself when he heard the news. "Invasion!?!" he shouted to his advisor. "Get every unit into action! Send them all to the beaches! Get me in command with CIII Corps- I'll need his armor! God have mercy on us all..."

And so it was that the XXIX hastily scrambled and ran to the beaches. There were no mines, no obstacles on the beaches, so they would have to put up hasty defenses. But defenses they would put up.

There fate would probably be like that of the GIs at the start of the Battle of the Bulge...

It had been a long, complicated trip for Jason. Leaving from a neutral country before bouncing through various Reich nations, he eventually found himself in Beringholm, riding a train into Eurusea. He'd been through several passports, using forgeries and destroying old copies to keep from having the numerous nations he'd travelled through being known. Covert missions were difficult enough as is, doing so out in the open like this was even worse, especially since his true country of oragin couldn't be made public knowledge. He carried two hefty suitcases with him, stuffed with blackmarket cigarettes. It was an odd bribe, he thought, but Eurusean cigarettes were shit. Nobody smoked them if it could be avoided. He also had quite a few Eurusean franks in his pocket. It was dangerous work, but it was his job.

He had to get off the lumbering train as it entered Eurusea proper, and he was quickly hustled over to customs, the uniformed guard looking like he'd just assume shoot Jason as talk to him.

"Welcome to Eurusea, comrade. Passport and visa, please."

"Yes, of course." Jason fished out the documents and handed them to the guard who looked them over briefly before returning them.

"Very good. You bags, Comrade." Jason smiled as he placed the two suitcases on the table, spinning them so that they opened towards the officer, opening them just slightly enough for him to see the numerous cartons of cigarettes inside. The guard raised an eyebrow, looking at Jason carefully, "This isn't good, Comrade... there are regulations you must follow."

Jason smiled charmingly, "I believe those are People's Cigarettes, Comrade. If you prefer, feel free to keep one of the suitcases, just to make sure."

The officer peered at Jason for a few tense moments, before slowly pulling one of the suitcases off the table and placing it to the side, "Move along, Comrade and enjoy your stay in Glorious Eurusea."

Jason nodded happily, grabbing the remaining suitcase, "Thank you, Comrade."

The Waters near Bendecitia

Colonel William Bora, commander of the 2nd Fiskars Battalion, caressed his Steyr AUG rifle as he stood on the bridge of the Ivan Rogov-class landing ship Shrugging Atlas.

He looked out onto the horzion My, my, won't Joe be pround, he though to himself.

Bora's battalion was not of the regular army. Rather, it was from a quasi-mercenary forces personally created and maintained by the elite in Objectivist Insurgents. Bora's force, in particular, was personally owned by none other than Joe Fiskars, the acknowledged ruler of the Hideway.

Task Force Revenge, the OI force in the invasion, consisted of two "mercenary" battalions, the 2nd Fiskars and the 1st Chronosa, and three battalions of the regular army.

He watches as the three Rotterdam-class LPDs launched their landing craft, sending the three Army battalions to the city right on the heels of the Veganans.

Stupid Army majors, he thought. They were light infantry, bound to be slaughtered on the beach.

He and Colonel Benjamin O'Reilly, commander of the 1st Chronosa battalion (from John Chronosa, another of the Objectivist Insurgent elite) had made other plans. The Veganans had the firepower, and would help clear the Syskeyians off the beach.

Once the beachead was clear, the real fun would begin.

Dozens of muzzles began to play their sinister symphony as the artillery shells with their deadly load were fired at public areas in Bendecitia, exploding high above ground, causing a foggy drizzle that spread by the wind over the areas targeted. Admiral Moran watched the explosions light up the city, at this distance it looked like ordinary fireworks but whatever joy these fireworks spread would soon dissolve into sorrow. His orders were clear, the high inquisitor had ordered this city to be cleansed, this city of the defilers of the holy faith. Moran looked at the gaunt figure of the High Inquisitor, watching the shells explode over the city with a triumphant smile across his face. The artificial prions would let God sort out his true believers in this pack of pagans. Gods will be done.

The shores near Bendecitia
The third penal battalion emerged from their hovercraft with a scream of joy, fear and blood thirst. The drugs the collars had injected into them filled them with confidence and a sense of immortality. One dog soldier jumped out too early and was forced under the hull as the hovercraft continued over him at a speed of nearly 40 knots. Luckily for the men they didn’t carry much equipment as dozens jumped out and found that the waves swallowed them before the hovercrafts came onto dry land. Hundreds of others fell as the Syskeyian beach defense started to open up on them as they swarmed out from the hovercrafts. Artillery shells fell over them but the dog soldiers were blind and deaf by their terror and blood thirst, swarming towards the defenses armed only with their faith, their madness and light weapons.

Outside the Coast
At the bridge of the Nephilim Smiter Chief tactician Papphammar took careful note of where the defensive structures were situated. He studied the effect of an artillery barrage wreaking havoc on a group of dog soldiers. His aide stood to his right and was just putting in the location of an artillery gun that pounded one of their platoons to bloody pulp.

”They’re dropping like flies sir“

”indeed they are, if the Syskeyians would have prepared a minefield this close to their city you could have observed an even more interesting effect”

”I think we have a mortality rate as low as 50 % so far.”

”Yes, it is amazing what difference the way of deployment does. Our space deployment usually ends up in no lower than 60 to 80 % before they reach their target. If all of our attacks were performed this way there would actually be pardons in the penal battalions”

”You mean there isn’t? I heard about a platoon being pardoned only last month.”

Papphammar smiled and shook his head while picking up his binoculars again. So young and so inexperienced.

Onboard the Nephilim Smiter
The guns from the fleet hammered the shoreline and the still existing defense lines. Wave after wave of attack jets went towards the city to cut of the escape of civilians and strike at defensive posts still standing in the city. The pacification of the city would take days. Chief Tactician Papphammar studied his notes of where the city was fortified and where there were possible nodes of resistance. He ordered strikes against water reserves and power centers, all but a few that he knew would fall into Reich hands within the hour. His plan was simple, by gaining control of those centers he would not only be able to easier supply the army if needed but also force resistance to seek these points, and thus flushing them out. The high inquisitor had demanded control over the city within the week, but Papphammar knew from experience that this would take time, and he also knew that they needed to get the dog soldiers and their allies under control if the city would be theirs. He also wondered how on earth the High inquisitor planned to keep this strategically very weak site once the Syskeyians mustered their defense and got reinforcements.

Within Bendecitia
Captain Jörgensen watched the people running around in panic from the alley where he and his crew were hidden. With most of the inexperienced Syskeyian troops drawn out to meet the threat on the beach it had been quite easy to sneak his small team in. Their team was not one of subterfuge, none under 2 meters and bulging of muscles beneath their gray shimmering body armour. Their mission was none the less something to be performed with haste, they were to obtain and if possible secure key persons within the city council and defense. If the task of apprehending these key persons were impossible they were to kill or destroy both the key persons and the building these persons were hidden in. So far they had located a few, but still not acted, the timing was essential, the risk of Syskeyian soldiers being more experienced and more apt closer to key persons were great.

Chopinburg, Eurusea

Sergei grinned as he saw, through the pouring rain, a man walking down the street holding a case with a white handkerchief hanging out of his pocket; it was hardly a flawless method of identification, but it worked. 'I guess you're a replacement, yes?' he sighed, 'Briggs always was a careless asshole...'

He pointed at the door, 'Well, come on inside, unless you enjoy being wet, in which case I'll talk to you through the window and you can stand under my leaky gutter out back.'

Jason blinked at Sergei's bluntness, but nodded quickly, 'Yes, thank you very much.'

Sergei smiled as he walked inside, kicking off his damp slippers and shooing a spaniel off his chair, the dog sitting by the fire and giving him a hurt look as only spaniels can. Sergei sat down, 'Now, I assume you'll want something in exchange for what's in the case?'

Jason blinked again before shrugging slightly. All the security and precautions, only to have his mark seem to be looking forward to the bribe. When in Rome... he thought. 'Yes, my associates are interested in some information we hope you have, or can get.'

Sergei smirked, 'Forgive me for not being particularly trusting, but can you open the case first?'

Jason nodded, spinning it to face Sergei and carefully opening it, revealing carton after carton of premium brand cigarettes.

Sergei examined them briefly, 'Ok. Ask what you came to ask.' The spaniel yawned, looking up at Jason and wagging it's tail hopefully.

'My associates are highly interested in some recent events. Some rather odd events...'

Sergei nods, 'There's some of that I don't know, some I do know and won't tell you and some I will. I assume what interests you is the purges yesterday and this morning?'

Jason nodded, 'Yes, those were the events that were most interesting to us.'

Sergei reaches for his lighter and pulls an ashtray over, 'I don't think asking one pack in advance is particularly unreasonable, do you?'

Jason smiled, pulling a pack from his coat pocket, and offering one to Sergei, 'A show of good faith, as it were..."

Sergei grinned, 'Most appreciated,' he lit it, taking a deep drag and smiling, 'Ah, I've missed that.'

He leaned back in his chair, 'Well, I assume you know of one doctor Antenov, recently executed for some rather murky but very severe 'crimes against the state,' so we'll start there. Turns out that his execution was a rather, ah, protracted affair, and he volunteered, as it were, some additional information during it.'

'Now, I don't know exactly what it was he told them, but in the last day Vermilion hit two Biopreparat labs, the ones at Severnaya and Kamchatka. Around the same time the Leveller Arpeggio which was being serviced at the Army Development Lab outside Chopinburg dropped her arms and tore the whole complex down, and a Spetznatz team hit the Biopreparat lab in Kosmar.'

'In all cases Spetznatz teams have flown in afterwards almost immediately and executed any survivors, in Severnaya they went after the archives with flamethrowers and tore the mainframes apart with cutting gear and chainsaws, too. Whatever this is, it's bad.'

'There's been a wave of 'disappearances' in the Army Research and Bipreparat, some even dragged out of their houses and executed in broad daylight.'

'The strangest part is Premier Nicole has never authorised a purge before this, and now we have massive purges of two major research divisions at the same time. It'd have to be a threat to the government or the country itself to warrant something like this, of that I'm sure.'

Jason nodded, taking all the information in, 'Curious... is the assumption that these divisions weren't being entirely 'above board' with their projects?'

Sergei grinned, 'I'd guess some kind of conspiracy going on, and I'm not usually one to believe in things like that. There's been some strange things going on with the Biopreparat recently; all started with a doctor Khrushchev being mistakenly shot as a traitor and then given a funeral with full honours instead of being incinerated. I'd know best about that, I wrote the public statements regarding it.'

Jason smiled, 'Interesting. While I'd like to review the public statement, I'm more interested in the real story, especially about doctor Khrushchev and the Biopreparat.' He grinning, 'Don't supposed you'd be willing to tell me about their projects...'

Sergei grinned, 'Now, as I said, some things I don't know and some I won't tell. It's asking a little much of a man to sell out his country for some cigarettes.' He tossed a videotape into Jason's lap, 'Here, your employers tend to prefer hard evidence, that's the executions at the Biopreparat labs unedited. They'll pull out the less pleasant parts and put it on cinema screens in a couple of days.'

Jason grinned slightly, 'Can't blame me for asking, but thank you for the tape.' He picks it up and it quickly vanishes into his coat.

'One more thing...It might be important, might not...' he pulls out a sheet of paper, 'This is the list of personnel officially executed as opposed to 'disappeared...' Notice anything odd about the ones listed as Army?' Running down the list, every one with 'Army' is followed in the next column by 'R&D Pz Kt.'

Jason's eyes narrowed, 'Research and Development... interesting. What's 'Pz Kt.'?'

'Panzer Knight, it's a type of bipedal tank...There's rumours of a new type in the works, but nothing concrete. Seems that 'new type' had something to do with the Biopreparat...'

Jason frowns, "Er... and the Biopreparat would be...?"

Sergei sighed, 'Biological research...Biological weapons, nerve gas and genetics. And I won't get more specific than that.'

Jason rubs his chin a little, thinking out loud, 'Bioweapons and a bipedal tank... doesn't seem likely that they'd be purged for a biowep platform...' He sighed, 'Just love it when answers raise more questions...'

Sergei smiled, 'Well, that's about all I know.'

A little girl appeared at the door in a nightdress, 'Daddy?' Sergei smiled, holding out his arms, and she ran over, hugging him.

'I'm sorry, sweetheart...Did we wake you up?' she nodded.

Jason smiled at the girl before nodding his head to Sergei, 'I believe I've taken enough of your time, thank you.' He got up and made his way to the door.

Sergei grinned, 'That's the kitchen door, comrade.' he points, 'Safe journey.'

Jason headed toward the other door, a faint colour rising on his cheeks, 'Sorry, thank you again, comrade.' He waved and walked back out into the rain.

Bendecitia
The whole city erupted into chaos.

Men, women and children ran from their houses, screaming in the streets. Church bells rang, clanging in frenzy as policemen tried to make some semblance of order out of the situation.

Still, the artillery rained down on the city, blowing holes in house, church, and barracks alike. No discrimination did the shells know as they smashed the provincial capital, dotting the white plaza of the city's Forum with hundreds, if not thousands of black-brown artillery holes.

Inside the governor's mansion, firece debate arose as the governor and his staff debated whether or not to leave the city. Should they flee for safety, or stand with their people.

All of Bendecitia was a whirlpool of fear, panic, and pandemonium.

All were afraid.

But none could foresaw the horrors that were to come.

The beaches of Bendecitia

They're dropping like flies, Corporal John B. Myintaung thought as he slaughtered yet another platoon with his MTVL's 30mm cannon. Of course, we'd be doing better if it weren't for all this damn artillery blowing up around us.

Indeed, the inexperienced Syskeyian troops were doing relatively well against the penal battalions, as may be expected.

The Army had long known of the Reich's tradition of convict troops. It was something that many fascist tyrants, even Hitler, had been known to use. Behind their makeshift defenses of ceramic gunshield's the sharpshooters of each squad had taken care to deal with the officers in the units [OOC: I'm assuming that you have "regular" (i.e. non-convict) officers in you're battalions, pointing pistols at the convicts' head to ensure they fight- I think that's what the Nazis did.]. Once the Veganan officers had tasted 8.6mm Laupa rounds through their skulls, the troops would become demoralized, and sometimes even surrender.

The Objecitivists were failing as well. Their SA80 rifles were clearly inferior to the M468s the Syskeyians used both in relaiblility and killing power. On top of that, the beach where they landed was defended by the 86th Infantry's Armored Brigade, whose M1A3 tanks had been making good use of the new XM1028 "beehive" round. Masses of OI troops had been decimated, and it seemed as though the invasion might just be stopped.

But the artillery was taking its toll on the Corps, and God knows what would happen when the Vegana's regular troops arrived...

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyia

The beaches of Bendecitia
Halvorsen pressed his body against the sand, stretching his neck as a tortoise to see where the enemy had dug in he felt the collar cut into his neck nearly strangling him. He no longer had any grenades but he could see one of his "colleagues" lying only a meter away, cut in half by a syskeyian cannon. Halvorsen was one of the few in the penal batallions that had a military background, he could have been one of those people sitting safely on the ships waiting for the penal batallions to be soaking up the attacks.

If only he hadn't raped that bitch, if only that bitch had been one of the ordinairy prostitutes and not a civilian. Halvorsen swore as he eased himself towards the corpse, focusing on the grenade like a trophy as he kept close to the sand, just a few more feet. He recognised the corpse now, it was Ibrahim, an accountant from some hellhole in Vegana. Halvorsen couldn't remember what Ibrahim had been convicted to the penal batallions for, some kind of fraud maybe? Ibrahim hadn't used any of the two grenades all dog soldiers were equipped with, they were still strapped to his bloody torso. Halvorsen tore of the grenades and took a quick glance to see how far away that cannon was, would he be able to reach it? He thought he might. He pulled the pins and threw the grenades first one and then the other a little bit to the left of the first he had thrown.

He waited for the explosion and then sprang up over the little ridge blasting away with his rifle hoping that the blast would have eliminated and shocked the defenders. He noted with satisfaction smoke coming from where the cannon stood, he was still smiling when the snipers bullet tore into his cheek exploding his face.


fifteen kilometers north of Bendecitia

Coloned Adamovic watched the tanks rolling out from the hovercraft, he almost had deployed a quarter of a PanzerGruppe. Their objective was to sweep down and grab the city and at the same time flush the defenders into the sea. The 12,000 inquisitors of KampfGruppe Jaeger were also ready to begin the mop up. So far they had encountered very few refugees coming from Bendecitia, either they had gone by another route or there were still plenty of people in the town.

ten Kilometres north west of Bendecitia

Hauptmann Klinger looked as the last of them men deployed from the Hovercrafts. The vessels had taken them at high speed as far as this but now the terrain was too hard for them to travel through. There were at least 50,000 Shocktroops and 150 Panzer coming down from North West now to join with the other troops and capture the city as quick as possible. Klinger wished that they would arrive before the penal batallions, he had seen their handyworks before. rapists and murderers... He took a quick glance in his binoculars to make sure the ridge was secured and then gave the order to mount up. As the convoy started to roll towards Bendecitia. a song was heard from the Shocktroopers, a song of freedom and justice and quick deaths for loathsome enemies.

Within Bendecitia

Captain Jörgensen was running with his team towards the governors mansion another team had been sent to take control over Bendecitias demographic data in the federal building. His objective was to capture the governor at the same time as the main assault would begin. They were counting on the governers location to be at least somewhat proof against the bombardment, so the next move should prove more of a diversion for their mission. The mansion should be hit with incoming barrages in five, four, three... Jörgensen took cover behind a big vehicle outside the mansion and braced for impact, even if Veganas artillery was famous for its accurancy he took no chances.

Onboard the Nephilim smiter

Admiral Moran watched as wave after wave of small bombers left to bombard the enemies defenses. Chief Tacticians plan was simple, pin the defense down at the beach, bomb the city and use the mobility of the hovercraft transports to get in behind enemy lines and then blitz them from behind. Another 50,000 Shocktroops and 10,000 Inquisitors would be deployed onto the beach when the bombings had diminished to use the beach head that the penal batallions hopefully had established. Admiral Moran was not very happy with the use of penal batallions, waste of human lives he thought, but they proved useful in situations like this, and they had proved useful before. He took up a cigarette and lit it, timing was essential, the panzer must come first and his deployment directly after, the defending Syskeyian troops would be crushed between the hammer and the anvil.

The big battleships began to batter the beach with kinetic strikes early in the morning as the assault was on. There were still fights within the city itself and there were still pockets of dog soldiers on the beach but this couldn't be helped. The dogsoldiers were there to serve the Reich and die for its honour. Admiral Moran raised his armed and gave the order for another strike against the Syskeyian defenses. The defenses had been raised in quite a hurry so it was unknown how good they were, but the kinetic strikes had been used against formidable defenses before and proved effective.

The sound of the the kinetic strike was deafening even on the helm that was pretty soundproof. He could literally see the shockwave as the rods hit the beach and spread the momentum energy around it, shattering people and buildings alike with a shattering thunderlike sound. Moran liked the kinetic strikes, they were much cleaner than the nukes and gave similar effects but to a more limited area. He watched the beach trhough his binoculars as the Hovercrafts sped towards the beach again, this time with Reich Shock troops, trying to reach the beach just after next kinetic strike that would be the last. The time of reckoning had come.

Jason muttered as he walked around in the shoddy little hotel room he was staying in. He hung his clothes in the bathroom to drying, rubbing himself down with a towel, trying to take the chill off. "Miserable bloody weather..." After drying off and slipping into a pair of jeans, he sat on the bed, relaxing a little. The hard part was done, he just needed to get out.

Looking at the tape, he shook his head, "This'll never do..." Of course, he had methods that would do. Walking back to the bathroom, he pulled a small plastic bag from one of the inside pockets. A strange plastic device was inside. It looked like a heavily modified memory card reader, which was pretty much what it was. He had hoped to get actual footage of something (his 'superiors' had been purposefully vague), which is why he brought this little gem along: his trainer, way back when, had called it The Spy's Best Friend.

Using a pocket knife as a makeshift screwdriver, he took the cassette tape apart, leaving him with a long spool of videotape. Feeding it into one end, the device took over, scanning the media and recording the sound and video to a solid-state memory card. There was little for Jason to do but wait, and a half-hour later, it was done. Unlike most commercial solid-state memory chips (like a digital camera would have), this one didn't have a plastic case or housing. It was just a tiny little circuit board. He slid the heel to his left shoe back and deposited the chip; carrying the tape was too risky.

There had once been ten of them. Jasper, Carl, Peter, Jovan, Matthew, Merou, Vincent, Kasper, Mechmed and Jacob. They had been magnificent! They had staged a serie of bank robbings that the nation of Vegana never seen the like of. Jasper had been the mastermind of all the heists, planning and scheming escape routes and flawless attack plans. Rumours were that Jasper had been in the special units of the Veganian special forces, but all who had grown up with him knew that this was not the case. They were just a bunch of old friends that were better at robbing banks than to work in any of the large industries, and the money they made! All the clubs in the big cities were their living room, and the money and the sparkling flowed. They never noticed that they were under surveillance and they were young and stupid. He still remembered the night they came for them. Jovan had been taken together with his wife and children. Not a single one of them had gotten away or even been able to do any resistance when the strike force came for them.

The trial was like all Reich trials, quick, efficient and merciless. They couldn't pin all the robberies on them, they had been too careful for that. Carl had a friend that worked as a barber and they stole hair from the saloon, thus the DNA samples from the burnt escape cars were from hundreds of different persons. But it was hard to explain were they got all the money they kept spending from, and the judge ruled that it was likely enough that they were the perputrators. When they were sentenced to Death or a life in the penal batallions it had seemed like such an easy choice, he wasn't too sure any longer. They had vowed to stay alive and to survive the number of assaults that they had to survive before getting freed together. In the first assault Jovan died, they promised him to deliver his dying words to his family that had been sentenced to 10 years for being involved with a criminal. After that they kept dropping off..

This was his sixth mission and there were only four of them left now. He looked at the other men that huddled together with him in the hole where they had sought refuge. Jasper, the brain, sat and stared empty in front of him, still deaf from the blast, caked blood in his hair and on his neck, still weary from the shell shock. Merou was lying in the corner, his leg blown off by a cannon round. They had tried to tie some cloth over his leg but it looked like there only would be three of them if the rest survived this mission. He looked out through the hole together with Carl, the first kinetic assault seemed to be over, but they both knew there was likely to be another assault just as soon as the first deployment of the shock troops was in place.

Carl looked out and almost like checking if it still rained he stuck out his hand and used the mirror in it to check for enemy soldiers. They had reached their objective, an old factory in suburban Bendecitia, they were stuck in something that might have been sewers or might have been something else but now was more of a hole in the ground. Didn't matter much, now it was their safe haven, Reich artillery shells didn't make difference between Syskeyian and Veganian bodies as some of his former mates was proof of. Carl looked back into the hole and called for him to come over, troop movement...

He walked over and stood by Carl and tried to look out of the hole and see for himself. The smell of sewer had begun to be unbearing and Jasper had started to moan, a rather unnervingly sound. Could this be their chance of getting out? He slowly moved up besides Carl trying to see what kind of soldiers this was, the air was filled with smoke and a fog had rised from the sea. He wondered if there was any other dog soldiers taking cover in the vicinity. He didn't know how many there had been from the beginning, but certainly several hundred for taking this factory. He eased up a little to get a better view.


In the northern suburbs of Bendecitia
Stürmband Führer Petersen led his inquisitor unit over a football field in the small almost peaceful mansion area. This seemed to be a nice neighbourhood Petersen registered as he strolled by a big house with a nice garden. He loved what the houseowner had done with the Rhodedendron, even if he thought the colour of that fence was awful, a dog was yapping at him from inside the house. He signalled to one of his groups to advance towards the industrial area that had been badly damaged by artillery. Luckily this nice area had remained unscathed, he stopped and watch some childrens toys that had been left in a garden, a small bike stood abandoned on the sidewalk. He could se a curtain move and a small face look at him with big scared eyes. Petersen smiled back and took the bike and lifted it into the garden, he could se a relieved smile in that face and then it was gone.

Northern suburbs of Bendecitia

Petersen watched out over the empty street as the wind picked up the ends of his long leather coat and gently made it move. A few of the cars were still parked at the side of the road and one of them, a rather luxurious brand had been bumped into a blue volvo, now completely and utterly disected into small mechanical pieces of iron and rubber and foraged by some looters but its former owner probably couldn't cared less, maybe the family that owned that Syskeyian car wasn't even alive anymore.

on-shore
The unit had come ashore as part of the Veganian operation –assigned to the operation, as part of the new total commitment the Islamist state would offer her allies. As yet the unit hadn’t been ordered in land and the Colonel wondered if trust or reliability was an issue.
Colonel Zacowe called over his comm-officer “Tell command we are willing to serve as they see fit. Our honor is only for God. Allahu akbar”
The news was running through the men of the unit – each was keen to prove their loyalty to Islam and the Reich.


o.o.c: use us mighty jaar.

OOC: This is starting to feel like a one way battle... C'mon SySk..

Coming ashore outside Bendecitia

Stürmbann Führer Jerry Jacobsen looked at his troops, he had been assigned as an aide for the North Star troops that were coming along on this campaign. In some ways he felt insecure on how to handle the troops from North Star, he knew they were supposed to be brothers in Reich but some of their ways were so... different in many ways. IT had been hard to keep the troops from starting trouble when the North Star troops had started praying at dawn. Some scoundrels even had used magnets to screw up the North Starians Compasses so they didn't know in what direction to pray. One of his men had been sent to the penal battalions for that. Jacobsen kept a tight ship, even if he had had trouble keeping a straight face when the North Star people started to sit on their rugs in different directions, looking at eachother with strange faces. But he could not allow any of his men making fun of their brothers in arms. He wondered if they were prepared to the scenes that would meet them, he knew that thousands of dog soldiers from the penal battalions would be dead, lying in the way between here and Bendecitia. In some way it made his men more alert and more vengeful, a good trait in a shocktrooper.

Despite the savagery of the bombardment, the Corps had defended the beaches well.

Or so they thought

"General, recon choppers indicate a large force landed north of here and have taken some of the northern suburbs."

"Well, let's not waste any time. Let's go."

And so, the Corps' two armored divisions moved toward the Veganans in the north...

Shores of Bendecitia

Jacobsen couldn't believe their luck! In his built in headset he heard that the Syskeyians panzer had started to withdraw towards the city under heavy fire. The battleships outside was hammering them as they left the defensive positions they had been at. He looked at Colonel Zacowe and turned on his mic to his men.

Men of The Reich! Today is a glorious day! God is truly great! WE will show our unity and determination to the world and cast down the rat worshipping heretics into the deepest pits of hell! Today begins a new era for the pure humanity, today the cleasning starts. Don't forget all our brothers that been slaughtered on this beach in their war against the nephilim terror, don't forget all the sacrificies we have had to make to drive Satan back! Don't forget the innocent killed by the guards at St. Dominic! Onwards soldiers of God! One God! One Reich! One People! Glory to God!

With that he gave the signal of begining the assault, he saluted Zacowe and closed the vizir of his helmet. The final assault was on, his Shocktroops would prove their value.

"Get up. forward! Al-hamdu lillahi rabbil 'alamin ! no questioning soldiers of islam, you who die will be rewarded with eternal life - inshalla allah! support those infantry"・yes comrade Komissar". they advanced in a mad assualt,supporting the Veganians with their bodies.
Colonel Zacowe felt pride surge through his body - his men were fighting in the proudest honorable tradition of north star - gone was the cowardice of the days of the sultan - now was the time of faith, God was clearly with them,the compasses were working again!

Ankalina, Syskeyia

The wife sighed as the family entered the hotel room.
She was tall, pale skinned, with black hair and blue eyes. Her husband had brown hair and green eyes. Their two children inherited these traits.

As well as the parents' pointy ears.

As the two children began to engage in a pillow fight, the adult male elf took out his [computer thingy- what would an elf use for a computer] and began to type:
From: Dominic Elladan Helyanwë
To:<Family in Menelmacar>

Greetings to all of you from Ankalina. As I am writing this, you should all be relieved that we are safe and alive.

The governors of the coastal provinces ordered the evacuation of all elves from the coastal provinces when the Reich began to invade the Republic. I know you were hoping that we could get to Syskeyiapolis, as its had the most elves of any city in Syskeyia besides New Nicaea[OOC:Where Dom and his family live], but all the flights there were booked. While we settle here for the duration, I have left the operation of the business to a good friend in the city.

As for Ankalina, we have enjoyed what we can. We elves recieved an huge reception at the airport from the Quenya and Sindarin clubs and societies from the area's colleges, schools etc. Their Quenya is excellent for those who have not grown up with it. The food the provided was pretty good, and they even reserved this hotel room for us.

Gotta go. We're unpacking, and Kinnia [OOC:Dominic's wife] wants me to help.

With love,

Dom

North of Bendecitia

Captain Ciaran looked at the fugitives from Bendecitia he had rounded up, he was sure that just a few had sneaked by the Reich forces after their established beach head north of the city. He looked with disgust at a small family of four huddled together, sniveling and looking at him with open fear. He smiled at the family: "Don't be afraid, how old are your children?"
Ciaran swore to himself when the woman told him the age of the kids, only one was under 6. He gestured to the guards, "Bring me that kid, execute the others" he turned back to the shocked family "You are judged for escaping salvation! Only the guilty has to fear the righteous army of God! He WILL judge you!"

A hooded man distancing himself from the others caught his eyes. He ordered the hood to be taken off, not really necessary but his heart leaped with joy when he saw the pointy ears. God was truly great delivering the tools of Satan to him!

"Bring the torches boys! We have some work to do!"

Shores of Bendecitia

Jacobsen watched his men pour towards the city. They were organized in groups of 8 and all had different objectives, he saw an artillery shell hit another defense post. The ships were doing precision shooting now, the shocktroops were far to valuable to be risked by friendly fire and the former barrages that had ben lain like a blanket over the beach was now exchanged for planned strikes at certain areas. He turned to his left and saw the North Star soldiers capturing a badly dug trench, slaughtering anything alive in there, what they lacked in training they clearly made up with battle experience and dedication. This beach should be cleared in a matter of hours now when the enemy panzer had left, and he had no doubts of what would happen when the Syskeyian panzer met their advanced Taurus and Exeon panzer. The pride of the Reich Iron Fist. The military intelligence they had gathered had been correct so far, only second class Syskeyian military and equipment had been placed around this city.

The IMS Impératrice Isabelle and the rest of the squadron of Pantocratorian troop transports, under the protection of its Syskeyian naval escort, steamed towards St Peter Claver island. The squadron was now just a few hours away.

Field Marshal Andronicus Kantenozous paced the converted dining room which now served as his war room. He didn't like the picture emerging on the map. The Duc de Montmanuel, commanding the Imperial Equites Legion, looked positively crest fallen.

"The fight's in Benedictia, not on this stupid little island." he moped.

"Their deployment is on a scale which dwarfs the forward estimates provided to us by Mater." compained General Bulgaronctus.

"The High Command hasn't reissued our orders. Mater's present instructions are to remain on course to St Peter Claver island, although what good we'll do sitting there I don't know." said the Field Marshal as he stared at the sheer number of pins marking enemy deployments on his map of Benedictia.

"Well, until she says different, we should follow the Imperial High Command's orders, surely, sir!" said General Bulgaronctus.

"Nonsense! The fight's in Benedictia! To hell with orders, blast it!" protested the Duc de Montmanuel.

"Why are you so bloody keen to throw our troops to the wolves, Your Grace? Do you enjoy drafting telegrams for their wives and mothers? Does it give you some strange pleasure to press your no doubt impressive seal onto a condolence letter?" bellowed Bulgaronctus.

"Damn you, sir! There is simply no reason for us to be deployed to St Peter Claver island!" replied Montmanuel.

"You don't know that! The Imperial High Command has access to intelligence we don't! It might see more strategic value in a strong garrison against future attacks against the island than deploying our troops to Benedictia!" argued Bulgaronctus. "We should follow Mater's instructions!"

"Enough!" shouted Kantenozous. "I will request Mater confirm our present orders one last time. If she still says to go to St Peter Claver island, that's where we're going. For crying out loud, if she tells us we're going to Constantinople, we're going! Since when did it become our job to question the orders of the Imperial High Command? Now will you gentlemen focus on the task at hand! In the event that Mater does direct us to assist in Benedictia, I want a battle plan worked out NOW."

"Yes sir." said Bulgaronctus. "I apologise."

"As do I, sir." added Montmanuel. "If I may, I believe the Imperial Equites Legion should be deployed first. We can roll right off the hovercraft and right through enemy beach heads. We can drive as far as we can towards the city as possible, creating confusion as the enemy redeploys to contain us. Then the infantry could go in, to exploit that confusion, and to clean up."

"Perhaps that's a little ambitious, Your Grace." said the Field Marshal. "Although good in principle, the sheer number of enemy troops deployed around the city means that the Reich forces will be able to respond to an armoured assault and retain defences adequate to the task of repelling our infantry."

"Perhaps then if we modify Your Grace's plan a tad?" ventured Bulgaronctus. "The Imperial Equites Legion could land, punch through the initial defences, we could land the infantry, and exploit the gap with the support of the armour, rather than continuing inland as far as possible..."

[OOC: Pantocratoria, just so you'd know, there is fighting going on near St. Peter Claver Island (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=6897309). Well, you did post in that thread, but still...]

North of Bendecitia

Hundförare Feltzig admired his german Shephards sleek but still robust lines. The Reich's breeding program had breeded away the shrimp back that was favoured among some estethic people and created a strong and healthy specimen, made for working hard in hostile environments. He scratched Fritzi on the big broad head while watching the newest group of fugitives escaping the horrors of Bendecitia. The dog looked up on his master with those big brown all-seeing eyes, and gazed at him as if declaring his undying love for his master. Feltzig patted Fritzi's big head once more and then started to walk towards the group that now had been halted by security forces.

"C'mon boy, time to go to work!, Heal!" Feltzig strode towards the group with Fritzi happily trotting close by his side, Fritzi had done this so many times before and never grew tired of this game his beloved master played with him. About fifteen meters from the crowd Feltzig let go of Fritzi's leach with a "Seek!" and Fritzi took off, increasing his speed a little, putting his sensitive nose up in the air, encircling the group, feeling all the smells from the two-legs, the smell of fear, of dirt of excrements and vomit, even some smell of bad alcohol, but suddenly Fritzi felt that familiar smell. He made his circles even smaller around the crowd to determine where the smell came from, the smell that always resulted in him getting that sausage he loved som much from his beloved master. There! The female two-leg trying to hide in the middle of the group. The female two-leg with a large coat hugging two small two-legs! Fritzi ran with his tail wagging and making happy barks for his master to hear, he jumped on the female two-legs and her hat fell off, showing the mutilated stumps of pointy ears in between her tangled unruly hair. Fritzi bit her playfully in her arms to show his master that he had found the toy as he had been trained. He still happily munched his prized sausage when the woman was shot together with her children.

ooc: I would love to post this in the thread Syskeyia linked, but anyway... I prefer to be noticed. And yes, reading the springoff thread, you can see that my fleet is where it is. Some logical assumptions have been made.

ic:

The Sea

The ships moved through the rough sea, slowly.. Nothing seemed to stop them. News had just come in, about the successful first bombing of St. Peter Claver... Michael could rejoice, for a great victory was about to happen...

However, there was another thing he noticed.

"According to the latet info from the satellites..."

"Yes, yes, I see. We have contact with subs and/ or patrol flights?"

"Not yet, but I think this will change, soon.."

And it changed. Saiana, still standing on the deck of her ship, looked up as she noticed more activity... And it didn't take long to find out what this activity meant... A grin appeared in her face. Soon, very soon, she would see magnificient bloodshed.

Hrm... Perhaps I should get some gun to shoot possibly survivors in the water...

She could hardly wait.

Neither could the Cherubim, preparing for the battle. The deployments were known... And their firepower was excessively superior to that of their enemies. Soon... Very soon... Less then a hundred escorts, and a lot of transporters. Easy prey.

Yet, not all that easy, and Michael knew it. Fifty- six combat ships were at his disposal, the other fifty- six... Transporters, like with the approaching fleet. Yet, while being outnumbered, it was pretty clear that his carriers and battleships wielded some more firepower than what his enemy could do.

Pantocratoria's reinforcements had to fall, and Michael smiled as he thought about it.

Another problem were the returning planes from the bombardement of St. Peter Claver.. Waiting for them would give the Syskeyian/ Pantocratorian fleet a chance to either evade or to stage a pre emptive strike. Neither was appreciated.

On the other hand, attacking now would mean that a significant part of his planes could be lost during combat, by way of running out of fuel and sinking in the ocean.

The decision was simple enough, though.

"They are meant to die for their mission."

Of course, Michael had no doubt that the enemy knew about his presence. After all, satellite reconnaissance is not all that uncommon. Or radar, or reconnaissance flights.

And soon enough, confirmation came. A few fighters patrolling the area had contact, the first missiles were fired, fighter to fighter.

Down under the surface of the ocean, submarines of both fleets (The Syskeyian escorts close to their main fleet, EC's spread out in small groups, supposed to attack any hostile (and possibly neutral) shippings in the area made contact, too. Torpedoes, explosions. A death in the eternal night at the bottom of the ocean.

"Turn, go into surface to surface combat formation. Start whatever planes are still here! An hour of honour lies in front of us!"

All the Cherubim heard Michael's words, and they rejoiced, the word of god, eternal wisdom flooding their minds, and Saiana could appreciate their efficiency, their muscles, their sweat and their strength.

For Cleruel, it was the first major engagement. Soon he would taste the sound of firing guns, of bursting metal, the sound of screams, of blood dripping into the ocean... He could feel the anticipation as she tossed some important things around, adjusted others... He, like everyone on the Glorious Heaven was trained to be perfect... And cleaning up a few feathers falling from the wings of other Cherubim (They could, after all, endanger the mechanics, one wouldn't believe what a feather can do to a belt- feeded machine gun), he rejoiced with the others, thanking god for this glorious day.

A moment later, the missiles, reasonably sophisticated with mirrored surfaces and velocities exceeding Mach 3, were let loose. Sure, they didn't have the ability to hit St. Peter from here (Hence the Airstrike), but they could very much hit the other possible target... Even though they were certain that said target was already preparing to fight back...

But than, every Cherubim knew that whatever would survive the initialstrike was more than likely to be torn apart by their artillery.

Leaving only a few escorts against subs, aircraft and possibly light surface units behind with the transporters, continuing on their way to St.. Peter Claver, the main group, 48 vessels, prepared to hit their enemy... Soon...

And the blood of the Cherubim on each vessel was boiling with lust for blood.

[OOC: Pantocratoria, just so you'd know, there is fighting going on near St. Peter Claver Island (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=6897309). Well, you did post in that thread, but still...]

OOC: Arrrrgh, so many threads! :)

North of Bendecitia

Hundförare Feltzig admired his german Shephards sleek but still robust lines. The Reich's breeding program had breeded away the shrimp back that was favoured among some estethic people and created a strong and healthy specimen, made for working hard in hostile environments. He scratched Fritzi on the big broad head while watching the newest group of fugitives escaping the horrors of Bendecitia. The dog looked up on his master with those big brown all-seeing eyes, and gazed at him as if declaring his undying love for his master. Feltzig patted Fritzi's big head once more and then started to walk towards the group that now had been halted by security forces.

"C'mon boy, time to go to work!, Heal!" Feltzig strode towards the group with Fritzi happily trotting close by his side, Fritzi had done this so many times before and never grew tired of this game his beloved master played with him. About fifteen meters from the crowd Feltzig let go of Fritzi's leach with a "Seek!" and Fritzi took off, increasing his speed a little, putting his sensitive nose up in the air, encircling the group, feeling all the smells from the two-legs, the smell of fear, of dirt of excrements and vomit, even some smell of bad alcohol, but suddenly Fritzi felt that familiar smell. He made his circles even smaller around the crowd to determine where the smell came from, the smell that always resulted in him getting that sausage he loved som much from his beloved master. There! The female two-leg trying to hide in the middle of the group. The female two-leg with a large coat hugging two small two-legs! Fritzi ran with his tail wagging and making happy barks for his master to hear, he jumped on the female two-legs and her hat fell off, showing the mutilated stumps of pointy ears in between her tangled unruly hair. Fritzi bit her playfully in her arms to show his master that he had found the toy as he had been trained. He still happily munched his prized sausage when the woman was shot together with her children.

a watching staggler from a north star unit howled with joy at seeing a gjinn being picked out and sent back to hell. "heil vegana ! heil the blood and honor laws!"


o.o.c: i just had to say something - i think thats a great & funny post!

ooc: I would love to post this in the thread Syskeyia linked, but anyway... I prefer to be noticed. And yes, reading the springoff thread, you can see that my fleet is where it is. Some logical assumptions have been made.

(snip)

OOC: Sorry I missed this post - as soon as I read Syskeyia's post about how St Peter Clavier was happening in another thread, I replied to that post and moved to the new thread. I'll respond to this post in the other thread - let's try to keep the St Peter Clavier island stuff in that thread if we have to have two IC threads.

Bump For Syskeyia....

Bendecitia

The Third Panzer division started of their maneuver to cut around the weak resistance that the Syskeyians had put up so far. A few armoured vehicles had been easily crushed by the Veterans in the divisions and it was clearly so that the defenders were poorly trained and poorly equipped. With only one of their vehicles damaged they would be in control of the city centre within a few hours. The turret of an Exeon tank moved a little to get in position and delivered a blast to a tower from which someone had fired, Maybe one of their own dog soldiers, but why take a chance and why miss out of some target practice.

[OOC: The Syskeyian defenders aren't exactly "poorly trained and poorly equipped." The units you're facing aren't exactly the Syskeyian Army's finest, to be sure, but the Army ensures that all the soldiers recieve basic training, every man a rifleman, etc. I dunno, think of the US Army units at the beginning of the Battle of the Bulge.

As inspiration escapes me at the moment, let's just say that the Corps' Armored divisions (mostly abrams tanks, but some Sabra medium ones as well), is making its way to encounter the Veganan panzers.]

North of Bendecitia
A round struck the sturdy frontal pansar of the Exeon with a loud bang! The ceramic combined with the active armour took most of the energy but ensign Peterson still felt mighty unsure if his vehicle could take punishment like that from the more vulnerable sides. They had encountered heavier resistance now with medium and heavy tanks. Some of the veterans in the vicinity seemed to relish the feeling of finally meeting some worthy opponents but little was heard over the radio as the veterans fought as they always did, silent and efficient, only the few cowboys could be heard over the radios. Peterson could hear one of them scream a loud YIHAA! over the frequencies when he apparently left another enemy a burning hull. This was Petersons first battle and it was nothing like the simulations he had done in training, the smell and the sounds of battle, but since this was a veteran battalion the other three in the crew was all battle hardened veterans. He took great comfort in their ice cold cunning precision when they handled the heavy vehicle almost like a small car, using maneuverablility to sneak out behind building and hit enemies and then dodge away in the heavy urban fighting.

Bendecitia, day 1

It had taken them a while to get hold of the city's demographic registers, but it had been one of the objectives and the clerks from the ministry of information had been working with them since, isolating the population between age one and seven. High inquisitor Ruddy paced among them like an animal in a cage, shouting at them, he wanted adresses and names. Luckily Syskeyia was a nation with a greatly advanced internet and computer system so the information was there, all it took was some time to understand how the authorities had storaged the information and then use the search engines.

The car was driving through the streets and you could clearly hear the sound and very soothing voice that came out from the speakers on the roof.

The wonderful nation of Vegana is your friend. We bring you medical supplies and help, we are gracious victors and will take care of your sick and weak. Report to the nearest hospital station that has been set up in the neighbourhood and you will receive help and vaccinations against further disease. Lay down your arms and no harm will be done to you, any information of whereabouts of criminals will be rewarded. If you feel mistreated by our security forces please report in any misbehaviour. No injustice will be tolerated.


Somewhere in Bendecitia

Spezial Kommisar Nelson of the Cultural enhancement bureau walked down the street with his long leather coat flapping around him. He knew there would be elves living in his neighbourhood and his special unit would make sure their evil influence would be removed from the city. He pointed at a pair of his Inquisitors carrying flamethrowers and gestured towards a large house that contained the disease called elf according to the local archives. Another gesture and a unit to his left started to surround the house taking precautions to stay in cover, you never knew what those sneaky devils could do to ambush the righteous. Still making sure his men were in place Nelson tooks a step towards the house.

"You in there! Surrender the house and come out peacefully! No harm will come to you and you will be sent to the nearest elf nation where you can continue your lives.!"

He took a step so he could keep the whole building in sight. Even if he carried protection underneath his long cloak a lucky shot or something heavier than the usual firearms could prove fatal. He lowered his vizir and stood back, listening to the sounds of the magpies and the wind in the high trees around the building, waiting, looking for movement.


Outside Bendecitia

Dozens of large buses were assembled and their cargo was being loaded. It was livestock, but not ordinairy livestock ten doctors did a medical check on the short figures that lined up towards the trucks. The lines was long and armed guards were keeping them in line, not with brutal force but more with stern looking faces and sharp voices. After all no one in the line was older than seven years of age.

Late day 1 , Bendecitia

The sky was lit by distant explosions and the sound of heavy fire cut through the night. The battle had raged hard in the northern suburbs where the resistance was strong and still wasn't entirely defeated. HIgh Inquisitor Ruddy was standing on the balcony of the house he had acquired and watched the distant fireworks. So beautiful and still he knew people were dying over there, proud Veganian soldiers fighting the lapdogs of evil in dark alleys and lush parks.

He clenched his fists to tight balls as he thought of all the men that had been sacrificed on the bloody elf goddess altar tonight. He walked back from the balcony and watched the latest reports, the first strike with artificial Prions would have affected a very large part of the population. Since the Prions weren't really a disease but more of a chem weapon he looked forward to see how it would affect the elf population his reports had told him had fled the city before the final assault. Very few had been rounded up in the city, most had been found leaving the city by the northern roads. A grim smile crosssed his face as he pictured an elf with Kreutzfeldt Jacobs syndrome that was caused by the Prions, the proud face with those sharp features being erased when the chemicals ate the brain, leaving nothing but some mushy substance.

He really hated those devil spawn, he remembered the elven attack on his city as it had happened yesterday, he remembered seeing his mother fall as one of the masked attackers in their sleek armour teared up her back. He shivered as he remembered the last look in her eyes as the last light in them was cut off. They seemed to tell him, "Help me son! Don't let them do this to me" Tears swelled up in his eyes at the memory. Sometimes he caught himself wondering why he couldn't remember exactly where and when it had happened. He even had tried to search for it in the systems, but never found an attack that exactly resembled what he remembered. He even told one of the chaplains about it, but got the explanation that sometimes the mind cuts away certain memories just because they are too hard to relive. The chaplain was the closest to a father he ever had, since his own father had been killed a few weeks before he was born. So he listened to him, chastising himself to rid himself of that block that kept the memories out of him.

Bendecitia, day 2

It was the beginning of a wonderful day in Bendecitia. The High inquisitor had risen with the sun as always. He had spent the first hour of dawn thouroughly whipping himself to rid himself of the dreams in the night. He knew they were visions sent to him from the Nephilim to torture him, not until he could feel the blood trickling down his back he felt himself relieved of the deamons within him. In Prayer he was one with god and his own pain, in remembrance of how the son of god had suffered and as humanity suffered under the Yoke of Nephilim. Today would be a good day, several of the leading men and women of Bendecitia had requested a meeting with him, he looked forward to see what kind of people it was who were the first to embrace the good cause. The first always was the wolves, the ones that ate their mates, not much better than elves. His men had spent all night to try to secure the pockets of resistance that still existed and search and apprehend the elves that still were to find in Bendecitia. He had reports of all the different ways that the nephilim had tried to hide themselves. Mutilations of their ears, disguises, plastic surgery even plain hiding, but his special forces had rooted them out with their special trained hounds. The hounds were able to sense the scent of an elf in a crowd of hundreds and his men were patrolling through areas of high population as well searching the premises located through the city files. It was hard work and he had doubled the crews on the streets to round up the parasites of mankind as early as possible.

He stepped into his office and sat down behind the great desk, he looked at the monitor showing the room outside his office. Five men and two women were assembled there, looking nervous, they always did. He examined the men, they tried to look determined and hard, the women were talking to eachother with quiet voices. he would enjoy this, who knew?, maybe they could help him in his task.

Bendecitia, Late day 2

Underneath the clear, star spangled sky fires were burning. Smoke rose in gentle pillars towards the dark sky, mixing and in some places veiling the stars behind a gray-black mist like shy ladies not wanting the covetous eyes to see their ageless beauty. Hundreds of fires were lit on the great plain as if trying to mirror a small part of heaven with fires, twinkling in their own way like their twins in the sky. Among the fires Haupt Kommissar John O'Grady walked, like a star traveler in his own miniature milky way, going from one fire to the next, inspecting the full days job as the glowing fires revealed a bed like glowing emeralds , almost alive as the glow moved over the coal. He had this song in his mind and he couldn’t really get rid of it however hard he tried. He saluted one of the men standing by one of the fires; the man looked up with a coal black face that split into a grin, showing white teeth, as he saw his commander coming. O’Grady was well-liked as an officer; he threw the man a bottle of water as he closed in.

”How’s it goin, John?”

”Not too bad, how’s you and the kids?”

”You know, they don’t like it when I’m gone, but as long as I put bread on the table..”

”I know, But I think our part of this operation is only a few more weeks and then you can see your family, you know this restaurant at Quay street? Ming House? Serves delicious food, bring your old lady there, and the kids too”

”Yeah? Well, I just might”

They saluted each other and he walked away, whistling the song that was stuck in his head. He swept away the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and looked up in the sky, admiring the stars. What a stroke of luck with this weather, no rain so far that could interrupt with his work, his superiors would be delighted when they received the reports of his efficiency under these uncivilized circumstances. A dog came running, yapping and running around his legs, he laughed and threw a stick for it, watching it run chasing it towards a fire.

He had been disappointed in the logistics set up with the command as they could not handle the constant stream of goods that were sent his way. But as they had no use of a set location, he had been forced to set up a provisional camp here. He stopped and gestured to one of the workers where they should use the assigned bulldozers and put the still glowing ashes into one of the prepared ditches.

He walked into his shed and put on the tape recorder. Listening to the song that was stuck in his head, soon he would leave this god forgotten country and get back to his family, he longed for holding his little son in his arms again. Maybe he could find some kind of Fluffy toy here in Syskeyia to bring home? He looked out through the window watching more glowing bones getting pushed into one of the prepared ditches by a bulldozer. Soon the cleansing would be done. The recorder screamed out the pained voice singing the song.

You can trust me to be there
You know I will stay true
Your eyes and hair fair
Will keep me from the blue

Together we are alone, only together we are alone…

OOC note to Vegana et al: You can probably assume that there are very few Elves left in the city, as I arranged with Sysk well over two months ago for them to be evacuated to other cities and then to Menelmacar (I have IRC logs regarding this). When your forces entered Bendecita there were probably less than one or two thousand left, and probably less - those who were either too proud or too attached to their homes to leave or naïvely expecting mercy (or at least decent treatment) at Reich hands.

When your forces entered Bendecita there were probably less than one or two thousand left, and probably less - those who were either too proud or too attached to their homes to leave or naïvely expecting mercy (or at least decent treatment) at Reich hands.

Thats several thousand more who'll be gone after Vegana has done his duty.
Purge brother! Blood and honor!

~mostly i.c sultan Hatusu

OOC note to Vegana et al: You can probably assume that there are very few Elves left in the city, as I arranged with Sysk well over two months ago for them to be evacuated to other cities and then to Menelmacar (I have IRC logs regarding this). When your forces entered Bendecita there were probably less than one or two thousand left, and probably less - those who were either too proud or too attached to their homes to leave or naïvely expecting mercy (or at least decent treatment) at Reich hands.

OOC note, well as I am sure you are aware of since you surely read the thread. This was a surprise attack that started more than three months ago, 10-08 to be exact. (I have this forum logs regarding this, this thread actually. So all your logs proves is that you had discussion with him a month after the attack started. ;P) AKA before you had the discussion with Sysk. So basically the attack would have taken place before you would have moved them.

BUT i have no problem with just taking on a few thousands instead, I always assumed the vast majority of elves would be smart and sneaky enough to get out of the city when the first assault started. Feel free to RP any elves still in the city if Sysk allows it, need some interaction anyway. And if we please could move the OOC posts to the OOC thread?

OOC: It was a surprise attack, yes, but it was less than two months ago that you approached Bendecita. For the first month you were engaged in fleet maneuverings and taking St. Peter Claver Island. By the time you approached Bendecita your intentions were obvious. ;)

But yeah, any further OOC posts will be elsewhere.

OOC: and it has now been taken to the OOC thread...

Offshore Bendecitia, Night 2

The freighter steered its way towards the Reich with its precious, yet strange load. It was the first time ever that Captain Pugwash carried such a load. He had carried passengers before but not like this! He had arrived to Bendecitia with a load full of caretakers, terapeuts and nannys, some of those people really scared him like noone else did. They had dividen the children into groups according to age and sex and were having sessions with them right now. Captain Pugwash felt the the similarity between those terapeuts and the inquisitor were vague at the best. He was watching one session right now. Five children aged four was sitting in a ring with crayons and were supposed to paint what they had experienced. The terapeut told them that they didn't have to worry, that they were safe now. One of the children began to cry, shouting out for his mommy, a nanny quickly arrived to the scene and comforted the kid, whispering soothingly into his ears. The session of today was about rats, and one of the kids that had painted a big rat on his board was rewarded by the terapeut who told the other kids that little Jimmy was a good boy, he ruffled little Jimmy's hair playfully and asked him:

"So Jimmy, I know this is hard, but we want to help people to come to heaven. Don't you want your mother to come to heaven Jimmy? What did they make you do with the rat jimmy?"

The other kids wanted to please as much as the others and after only fifteen minutes they were all telling dreadful stories about rats in all colours and sizes. The Terapeut nodded and continued taking notes. Captain Pugwash watched the frenzy with disgust and walked back to the bridge.

Somewhere in Bendecitia
{Argh. Loss of inspiration. OK, here's what happens - some militia, sneaking through the urban framework of the city - manage to get into an abandone building several stories high. From this, a squad of militia managed to find a line of logistics trucks (or at least one truck) [it's a fuel truck], fired a rifle grenade, causing the truck to go kablooey). Just a scene that would illustrate the resistance still going on the city.}

Streets of Bendecitia

The sirens of a several fire wagons were heard in the Bendecitian night. Hard looking men were running with fire hoses trying to quench the aggressive fire from spreading to buildings nearby. Two ambulances arrived as two left carrying away people that had achieved second and third degrees burns, among them one fireman that got hit by falling debris from a burning building.

Captain LeGrosse from the Veganian volonteer fire brigade stepped into the burning building. He was completely covered in a suit that would protect him from the worst of the heat, but that didn't keep it from being warm as a sauna inside it. He breathed air that tasted like sour wine from a pony tail bottle on his back as he straddled acrossed the room like a big marshmallow man. Looking over his shoulder to see that the hose was coming and not getting caught in the various fires he swore under his breath. His wife would tell him: Why do you always have to get involved in things like that? Why couldn't you chosen a normal job? Sometimes the dangers of this job was worth it to get away from home and the nagging for awhile.

He walked towards a door, spraying water around him and on the door frame before securing it for fire. This room was obviously something from a restaurant, behind this door should be the kitchen, he could see it through an open part of the wall, the flames licking the walls. He opened the door and stepped into the room, spraying water in front of him. He had to stop and watch the flames for a short while, it was like a big wild dance, flames dancing, swirling on the wall over the kitchen equipment. Fires was one of the most beautiful things that existed, and yet he had to destroy it. He started to spray water gently from top down, in the corner of his eye he could see something, too late he tried to turn around and spray water on the gas tube under the burning stove. He felt the pressure like a wind gust hitting his chest, ripping the hose from his hands. Lying on the floor he could see the hose dance like a serpent a wild dance spraying everywhere in the room. He tried to rise but he couldn't, when he looked down he saw a big chunk of metal embedded in his stomach. Something like a mist started to spread in his vision, his thoughts reached out for his wife and then everything went black.

Bendecitia News, transmitted from Vegana Communication center

Terrorists have today attacked unarmed vehicles belonging to volonteer help organisations. The terrorists attacked the contignent when it was on its way to a depot with supplies. Fires are burning wildly and we ask civilians to stay at home and not risk being out in the smoke that might be toxic until fire brigades announce it as safe. These Terrorists that claim innocent lives will be hunted down and dealt with. Bendecitia will be safe again! God Is Great!

Off the Territorial Waters of Syskeyia (but nowhere near Bendecitia)

Admiral Wilder wasn't a very happy woman. She had been woken up from a much-needed sleep by the news that, somehow, the world has skipped forward by an unidentifiable amount of time. Not only was the position the First Fleet had been keeping now fairly out of the way but they had displaced a lot of water and nearly capsized a surprised Syskeyian coastguard cruiser.

As she listened attentively to the briefing given by one of her aides, she scanned the Syskeyian coast. It looked relatively peaceful from this side, but apparently there was already an incursion in progress in the coastal city of Bendecitia. St Peter Clavier island had apparently already fallen and had been blockaded by multiple Reich fleets. CAF had adviced against any attack or attempt to recapture the island and had instructed the First Fleet to defend Syskeyia and insert ground forces.

The Admiral briefly coordinated with the commanders of the various Carrier Groups and Taskforces in the First Fleet. The troop ships were immediately dispatched under guard to nearby Syskeyian ports whilst the bulk of the First Fleet moved towards Bendecitia, the carriers already sending fighters, bombers, spy planes, communication aircraft and the like into the air over Syskeyia. Communications were established with the Syskeyian military and government, linking them directly to the Fleet and to the Chimaean Armed Forces High Command. Rapidly, the First Fleet went into action.

The Autumn Palace, Hofburg, Lavenrunz

"...this concludes the general briefing on what satellite information and intelligence has gleaned regarding this conflict, Majesty." said Admiral de Goethe. The lean, sun browned woman in the resplendant naval uniform, who now held the seat of Minister of War sat down.
Baron Shein, in his wrinkled suit, puffing on a cigarette, nodded to himself. Chancellor Schlabel adjusted his eyepatch and cleared his throat. The young Empress sighed.
"Is there any possibility of encouraging negotiations?" she asked.
"As to that, Majesty, that is an immediate action we can take." advised Aurora von Konigsmark. "We have an international reputation for diplomacy, we are taken seriously in that arena.'
"However, Majesty, Syskeyia is a friendly nation, and we might want to consider offering military support." the Chancellor said. "Remembering that Syskeyia was our ally in SATO and against the Reich in previous wars."
Aurora rose. She felt sick, she hated the very idea of war. Thirty Camelias, sensing her mood, paced restlessly, growling. They all stood up as well and she said, "Make sure some kind of statement is prepared to make to the nations in question...and present it to me. And also make a proposal, a theoretical one, for the International Mediation Council." she walked out of the room without another word, wanting to just hide somewhere.

The Chancery, Hofburg, Lavenrunz

"Damned reds. Damned Reich." muttered Admiral de Goethe.
"How about this." said Aurora von Konigsmark, her tall elegant frame draped in a chair as she held up a draft written on a notepad.


To the Honorable Premier Kurchatov

It is our hope that this letter finds you and your nation burgeoning with hopes for the future.
There are times when the effusion of blood is a necessary thing, and times when its avoidance is possible. Although your people feel provoked by the Republic of Syskeyia, it may be that the issue could be resolved peaceably. Not of ourselves, but within the mandate of the International Mediation Council, we would be prepared to offer all assistance in negotiating a settlement between Eurusea and Syskeyia. Lives may be saved, territory unscathed, and future conflicts averted by this. The future of nations is in your hands.



"Respectfully Aurora Imperatrix etc." said the Foreign Minister. "What d'you think?"

The War Minister smiled at her. "And the same to the Syskeyians?"

"No. For the Syskeyians, this:"



To his Excellency Benedict Michael Sukhothai

We are greatly troubled by your current ordeal, and wish to offer all necessary assistance, first and foremost by suggesting a ceasefire and offering mediation. If you can agree to this, please send us what your position precisely would be regarding the present conflict. As long standing friendly nations, let us help you avoid a furtherance of the shedding of blood.

most affectionately
Empress Aurora von Sachshausen

Presenting the letters to the Chancellor, who nodded, they then made their way to the Empress at the Autumn Palace, and showed them to her. She read them carefully. She looked up, her blue eyes intent. "What about mobilization if it comes to that? Should we be ready?"

Admiral de Goethe said respectfully, "Majesty, what I have arranged is for several carrier groups to be prepared for action, but they are all on the high seas at present and are not together. No one will suspect coordination but satellites and the defense AI will be updating plans for convergence. Furthermore, I have instructed refuelling and transport wings of the Imperial Air Force to be ready."

Aurora nodded. She looked at Chancellor Schlabel and said, "Very well. This plan is acceptable, and I will put my seal on the letters."

The Citadel, Syskeyiapolis
Sukothai watched two birds flying across the sunrise, squawked a deathlike sound as they flapped their wings.

The Praesidens et Primus Consul had been preoccupied with the horrid events of the past few days. St. Peter Claver Island, which had been heavily fortified and prepared for an Amerigan invasion, had been overrun in just one night, its fortifications shattered and its twenty-six army divisons annihilated. And now one and a half million Syskeyian refugees lie in ships somewhere in the Pacific Ocean.

And to top it off, Bendecitia had fallen to the Reich.

Sukothai lowered his head, the burden of defeat having weighed him down.

"First Consul?" cried an aide from inside the castle.

"Yeah?"

"Somethin' for you. From the Lavenrunzian Empress, I think."

Sukothai ran into the castle and into his room, recieved the letter, and read it.

To his Excellency Benedict Michael Sukhothai

We are greatly troubled by your current ordeal, and wish to offer all necessary assistance, first and foremost by suggesting a ceasefire and offering mediation. If you can agree to this, please send us what your position precisely would be regarding the present conflict. As long standing friendly nations, let us help you avoid a furtherance of the shedding of blood.

most affectionately
Empress Aurora von Sachshausen

Taking up his pen, Sukothai started writing.

To Her Teutonic Majesty,

I am greatly heartened by your desire to end this bloody conflict. Mediation would be most desirable. As for our position, the conflict apparently "came out of the blue," as it were, with Eurusea broadcasting a propoganda message message encouraging our destruction (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=6446008&postcount=1), and then sending fleets to the Gulf of Syskeyia and St. Peter Claver Island. Apparently they still desire to avenge the deaths of Euruseans at the St. Dominic embassy crisis so long ago, and while we were not guiltless in that affair, the said cataclysm does not appear as a good casus belli in the Republic's eyes. We would like nothing less than an end to hostility and restoration of Bendecitia and St. Peter Claver island and an evacuation of all Reich and Eurusea forces from Syskeyian territory, airspace and waters.

I do hope to resolve this conflict without bloodshed and humbly, yet eagerly await your reply.

From the Citadel, Federal Region of Syskeyiapolis, on the memoral of St. Francis Alexander, being the third day of December, in the year of our Lord 2004, the second of my Consulate,
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v123/Syskeyia/sukosig.gif

Perhaps we'll make it after all, he thought. But don't stop praying for us, St. Jude. Please don't.

Brigadier Aldys Halstead gazed gloomily out of the window of her staff car as the warm drizzle drummed on the metal roof. Even though the weather was horrible, she had to admit that the sight she was seeing was a memorable one. Thousands of Marines landing and gathering on the Phenuisat beach, all in strict formation. The barges with armoured vehicles were unloading as well, and there were already several tanks rolling across the beach like oiled mechanical death.

The gloomy skies and rain made the scene seem larger than life. The troops were being trucked to the nearby military airfield where Chimaean and syskeyian aircraft were already flying them to strategic locations across Syskeyia. Armoured columns were already heading out of the beach en route to closer locations. Helicopters and jets flew overhead and the Brigadier knew that above the clouds were the stealth bombers, atmospheric craft and unmanned aircraft.

She lifted her eyes to the horizon, where she could make out the murky, looming shapes of the troop carriers and destroyers which had brought them there. Underneath the waves would be the submarines on constant patrol.

A row of helicopters thundered past, flying low, their sleek bodies painted matt black. The Brigadier frowned slightly. While she was kept informed on a general basis about special forces activity, she had no involvement in the coordination of their operations. She had met some of the special forces troops on board the carrier they were stationed on; they had been polite and formal and nothing else. They made the Brigadier feel slightly unsettled.

She looked down at the map spread across her legs, and traced an invisible line from Phenuisat to Bendecitia. The Brigadier tapped the place on the map with a finger, lost in thought.

***

The slim, long shapes of the search and destroy submarines led the way for the bulk of the First Fleet as it headed towards Bendecitia. In the leading submarine, the CSS Black Knight, Captain Joshua St. John stood in the main control deck, sipping warm, sweet tea from a small hip flask. Around him, the crew were at their stations, monitoring and coordinating with the rest of the fleet. The op had gone fairly smoothly so far, much to the Captain's relief. While he knew that the Black Knight was a state-of-the-art submarine, he also knew that any amount of unforseeable events could happen to render it a floating metal coffin.

They were actively scanning the sea around them. When the First Fleet was in progress there was little use in being too covert--an enemy would have to be blind not to notice the multitude of ships heading their way.

Seaman Cooke, on duty at one of the scanning stations, suddenly said, "Multiple readings off to port."

Captain St. John looked on as the analysis came in. "What is it?"

Petty Officer Bradley looked over the crew's shoulders. "They're not metal. Some kind of sea creatures, I suppose... do you get many jellyfish this deep?"

The Captain frowned. "Jellyfish? No, I don't--"

"Captain, a wide scan reveals their presense at various depths nearby, there could be more in the Gulf."

Captain St. John shrugged. "Note them and inform C&C of their presense. Continue on course."

"Aye, sir."

His flask empty, the Captain turned to leave the control deck when suddenly the submarine juddered, then jerked more violently. The Captain grabbed hold of the guard rails and asked, "What the hell was that?"

One of the crew swore as the noise level rose immediately.

"We have a minor hull breach in forward compartment four--"

"--Closing off bulkheads--"

"--An electrical fire reported--"

"--Getting to it, sir, some sort of mine perhaps--"

The Captain muttered a curse and shook his head. "We'd have picked up mines..."

"Sir, two other subs have reported some minor damage."

Realisation dawned. "The jellyfish! Bio weapons! They've put down bio weapons. Blast is all!"

Bradley nodded slowly. "I wouldn't put it past the Reich. What shall we do, sir?"

The Captain considered. "First, inform C&C. Then fire a torpedo straight along our cause and try to clear the way a little... We should be able to navigate this field, though it'll slow us down a fair bit. Damn... Find out where the Syskeyians are and inform them of this."

"Yes, sir."

The Captain rubbed his bearded chin. "Ahh... I suppose it was too good to last, really..."

Bendecitia, Day six

The high inquisitor was an extremely unhappy man. He looked at the maps over the city centre and compared them to the demographics. So far his men had only collected less than half of their quota of children under the age of six. If they continued this way it would take forever... He pointed at one area:
"I want this housing estate area burned to teach them to turn over the children for retraining when we so demand! Start doing house to house search! And start operation Squealer to see if we can get people to tell us where there's still kids."´

He walked over to the computer screen and looked at it. How hard could it possibly be? There were adresses and names in the system, it should be an easy pick up. They had started to tell people that their kids could go back to school and that the peoples lives could go on as normal now after the liberation, but the round-up they had done in the schools the next day had proved less than efficient. It was definitely time to remove the silk gloves if they ever were to deliver these lost sheep back to arms of our lord.

Offshore Bendecitia

Captain Moran looked at the latest reports, they didn't bode well. According to his papers there were a Chimaean fleet on its way through the Syskeyian gulf, temporarily stopped by the mine field put there, and there were another fleet on its way from St. Peter Claver in their direction. The fleet that had detached from St. Peter Claver didn't worry him that much since it was mainly troop transports. As long as they weren't allowed to land they proved little of a threat. The Chimaean Fleet was a bigger challenge though, and it seemed as if the mines had only caused minor damage, no ships were reported sunk. He swore under his breath about Cheap military companies making money by keeping the amount of explosives in the mines down. This could turn really nasty. He looked at the plotted course from the ships leaving ST. Peter Claver, "If those ships continue at that course, send the attack jets to sink as many as possible, it seems as if they left most of their escort back at the island"

Portus Navalis, Syskeyian Naval Headquarters

"Sit down, people. I hope you got some rest on the way over, because we have one of the first Recon missions planned for you."

Major Sorelly watched as the six-member special forces team settled into their seats. They were part of Navy Spec Ops, flying inland around the Gulf to get to Portus Navalis, which was the second last state of Syskeyia until Bendecitia.

He booted up the mission briefing from his laptop computer, which projected it into the screen at the front of the room. A map of Benedictia zoomed in until one of the outer suburbs took up the entire screen.

"This is St. Augustine, an outer suburb of Benedictia. There's a school, a church and a small shopping complex. The terrain is mostly suburbia, with two small parks near the school. Our sattelite imaging has shown a peak of activity in this suburb yesterday, concentrated around the school in particular, which gradually slowed down to an almost complete stop late afternoon. We aren't exactly sure what happened but this pattern was prevalent in many of the regions of Benedictia. Your mission is to go in there and find out what the Vegana forces are doing. You'll be inserted by land and driven via truck to within 8 k's of St. Augustine--we can't risk an airdrop because we believe they've got air defences up over the city, at least. When you're in, head for the school, find out what you can, then make a base of operations, if feasible, in either the school or the church. Your primary mission is to gather as much intel as possible; your secondary mission is to disrupt any enemy activity within and near St. Augustine. Pick-up is set to two days, when the truck returns from Benedictia."

"Who's in the truck, sir?"

"Syskeyian civilian friendlies. Don't put them at risk, they're taking a huge chance here. Now, you do have permission to shoot first but be careful, this is a residential suburb and civilians will be around." he activated another screen, which showed intel of Vegana forces.

"We think there may be as many as two platoons around St. Augustine and it's neighbouring suburbs, maybe more. They'll be well armed and they probably have light armour too. Only engage them if you must; otherwise just observe and gather intel. Your escape and evasion plan is to slog it back to the Nukajam border which is guarded by the Syskeyians. Take to the countryside and avoid the main highways. We can't guarantee you any air strikes but we can probably establish some long-range artillery by the time you get there. Any questions?"

There was a brief silence from the team.

"All right. You're Recon 1. The codes have been distributed to your personal computers. Good luck, and come back in one piece hear?"

***

Benedictia, near St. Augustine

The truck smelled of stale urine and animal dung. It was an ancient Syskeyian model, probably made in the fifties and pressed into operation by the local undeground when all other vehicles had been destroyed or taken by the Vegana forces.

The front of the truck had been sectioned off by a false metal wall. If the truck was stopped on the way, this was where the team were supposed to hide. Master Chief Helen Underwood had inspected it and decided that they were probably better off shooting their way out.

It was around eleven at night; they'd been travelling for an hour and a half. The driver and his passenger in the cab had been nervous. They hadn't volunteered their names and she hadn't asked.

The truck changed gears noisily. Helen winced. If the entire occupation force didn't hear that, then it would be a miracle.

She looked around at the other members of her team. They were sitting down on the warm metal floor, having an impromtu meal of the long-lasting protein bars. Their weapons were on their laps, ready to reach at a moment's notice.

And then the truck began to slow.

Helen was up and peering out at the gloom through a crack in the metal wall. There was lights outside. A patrol? A checkpoint? Cursing silently, she pulled open the false wall and the six of them entered the cramped space, along with their equipment and backpacks.

The truck juddered to a stop and Helen heard muted voices out in front of it. She gripped her CR60 tightly and pulled down her visor from her helmet. The world became green as the night-vision enabled. Trying not to make any noises, Helen hoped to whatever deity was nearby that they wouldn't be discovered...

North of Bendecitia

They watched the approaching truck suspiciously, it was a wreck of a vehicle with two drivers. Hundförare Feltzig walked up to it with Fritzi as the rest of his patrol kept their weapons trained on the truck. Light enhancers making their almost silent buzz like mosquitoes in the night, small dots dancing over the truck only seen through the goggles of the soldiers.

C’mon boy, Seek!! Feltzig patted Fritzi's big head once more and then started to walk around the truck that now had been halted by security forces. Fritzi nosed happily on the car, smelling urine and a few more two-legs inside the truck. But there were no scent of the pointy eared two-legs he was trained to look for and no smell of explosives. Fritizi happily trotted around the truck.

One man checked the door of the truck for booby traps and then opened it up, looking in wearily. The smell of urine was disgusting so he quickly backed out again.

”Clear!” He wrinkled his nose in disgust, these Syskeyians were really nothing but smelly animals. Just before he closed the door his eye caught the paper of a powerbar. Typically! They can afford candy like that but still cant keep clean.. They use the same car for garbage as for transports! He thought. We will have to teach them about hygiene when we educate them. He waved to the truck to carry on.

Helen softly let her breath out and removed the rifle barrel from the flimsy partition. The rouse had worked! Against all odds, too, and with sniffer dogs present. She wiped her forehead with her sleeve and the turned to glare at Sergeant Hallowell [Chimaean Spec Ops have Army ranks, regardless].

The Sergeant was swearing under his breath, and turned to look at her. "Shit, I'm sorry Chief. I'm better than that. I'm really better than that."

Helen nodded briefly. "All right, never mind. Look guys, standard rules apply. No evidence. We were lucky that time. Buck up and keep alert, we're elite remember?"

They slid the partition aside and went back into the main area of the truck, which had resumed its jolting journey. They spent the next fourty minutes in a tense and expectant silence.


The truck eventually halted again on a narrow road in an industrial suburb of Benedictia, eight kilometers from St. Augustine. The team got out and formed a lose perimeter while Helen talked to the two Syskeyians.

The driver, an older man with a heavily lined face and accented English, was business-like and brisk, whilst the younger one, who Helen guessed was around 17, simply took the opportunity to ogle Helen's body in combat fatigues. Helen ignored him.

"This is where we must leave you," the driver was saying, "The patrols and checkpoints get more thorough closer to the City."

"This is fine. You'll be back here in two days time?"

"Yes that's right. But if you are not here, you must understand that we cannot wait for long."

Helen nodded. "Understood. Thank you for your help, sir."

The driver gave her a sad, weary look. "It is no problem. Benedictia has seen much suffering... but it is a sad time when young men and women such as yourselves must put their lives in danger."

Helen frowned slightly, but only nodded. Soon the truck moved its noisy way up the street.

Recon 1 drew closer together while Helen examined a map. Sergeant Mark Greaves, the second highest ranking officer on the team, crouched beside her. "Most of the buildings here are contruction yards, plants and warehouses, Chief. If we stick to the buildings and avoid the street we should be fine."

"Ok. We need to head due South East of here... These streets are a maze, but I think I figured it out."

"So we cool?"

"Yep." Helen looked up at the team. "Steve, take point. We have 8 K's to hike, we gotta do it fast and silent. Let's move out."

The journey through the industrial suburb was tricky at best. Several times they had to take quick evasive action to avoid getting spotted by the more eager patrols. Once or twice they hid from the spotlights of APCs which drove slowly along the roads.

The massive buildings were silent and still, all the workers having been confined to their homes, killed or arrested. The machinery stood where it was stopped, some tasks half done. There were dried bloodstains on some walls and floors. The team took it in but were hardened enough to continue without pause.

It was early morning when they reached the outskirts of St. Augustine. The grey-blue light of dawn was filtering through the horizon as the team stopped for a moment in the back yard of a deserted house. A pair of swings stood to the side, eerily empty but moving in the breeze.

Helen studied the map of the suburb which was on the HUD of her visor thoughtfully. they were a few streets from the school, and most of the terrain was what could be called middle-class suburbia. The homes were well-kept, the cars were old but not too old and the yards were neatly mowed, but going slightly wild. The streets were wide, which was a tactical disadvantage, but Helen decided to keep cutting across yards and behind houses, paralell to the street. She communicated this to the rest of her team and they moved up the winding streets towards the school.

[OOC: I'm gonna start major military operations soon, whether allies are ready or not. Sysk, you really have to post more.]

Benedict Michael Sukothai poured through his files, both those made of paper and those on his Mac, in confusion as he contemplated his military options.

Bendecitia and St. Peter Claver Island had fallen, but Chimaea and Pantocratoria had been true to their word, delivering forces to help the Republic in repulsing the enemy force.

Looking at a map of Syskeyia, Sukothai considered his options. St. Peter Claver Island was far away in the Pacific; Bendecitia was part of the Syskeyian mainland. Therefore, Syskeyian forces could reach Bendecitia faster than they could the isle; and if Pantocratorian and Chimaean forces participated in a military over the Reich, it would boost the alliance's popularity, something which had been lacking in some places. Finally, while St. Peter Claver had been an important naval base, the Reich chould head north from Bendecitia to absorp the rest of the "green bean" and perhaps unleash their military might and end nearly eight centuries of Syskeyian independance.

Clearly, retaking Bendecitia was the first thing that should be done.

But how? Sukothai thought. An entire corps, the one tasked with defending the city, had been virtually wiped out, and while the neighboring divisions were too busy fighting on the defensive, and taking a bit of a toll, to take the city alone.

Clearly, reinforcements were needed, but where to get them? Checking the army stats, the President and First Consul noticed that most of the divisions of I, II and XVI Corps, the units defending New Nicaea and its flanks, had finished their refits. Clearly, they would be of immense help in the following campaign, if it were not for the distance they had to travel. Sea-landing had to be ruled out, airdelivery might take too much time, and overland would be too... obvious

Sukothai was pondering how to move the divisions he wanted to Bendecitia when he spotted a folder on his Mac's desktop: Project Gimli.

"Of course," Sukothai smiled. Earlier in his administration, when many in Syskeyia feared an invasion by Melkor, a plan was put into effect to build an underground railroad system with which to move troops across the republic. At its most complete the plan was bold: a huge networks of rail and tunnel, all beneath the surface of the earth, would transport tanks, troops, and what not from bases to cities to camouflaged openings in the wilderness that reminded some of the tunnels built by the Vietcong.

However the project did not achieve complete fruition: by the time the threat of Morgoth had passed, only a few lines had been built, and none of the proposed "wilderness" openings had been constructed.

One line, however, was perfect for Sukothai.

He traced the tunnel line. It began at a military base on the outskirt's of New Nicaea's metropolis, went down the western coast...

... ending just behind the current Syskeyian defensive lines.

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a plan, he thought.

To the Premier of Eurusea

If you do not respond to our offer of negotiating a peace we must assume that you have no good or lawful reason for aggression against Syskeyia and that therefore you are acting beyond the pale of moral conduct according to the laws of nations. In accordance with which we will support Syskeyia with all due military force.

cordially
Aurora von Sachshausen,
Empress of Lavenrunz

Eurusean Office of Foreign Affairs

Sergei sighed as his daughter climbed into his lap again, 'What're you typing, daddy?'

He ruffled her hair a little, 'It's a letter to an important lady in another country.'

To the honourable Empress Aurora von Sachausen,

I must admit to being slightly baffled as to your talk of negotiating peace, given that the just and peaceful Eurusean Federation is not currently engaged in hostilities against any nation. If you refer to our liberation of St Peter Island, the matter was of reparation for those killed illegally in the events in St Dominic, and has been resolved.

Should you wish to send a representative to discuss the matter further, we would be pleased to welcome him or her to our nation.

~Sergei Alexiev, International Affairs, on behalf of Comrade-Premier Kurchatov.

Segei smiled as he finished, lifting his daughter down onto the floor and handing the message to the waiting courier. He smiled, 'And now we can watch some cartoons before dinner.'

'Yay!'

[Been busy with coursework. Honestly, don't be so impatient]

OOC: that's cool. it's just that on mirc you didn't say anything about busy, you just said you were feeling a lack of interest. So my impatience is in character not out. It's a busy time for a lot of us hun. *hugs*

IC:

"Not engaged in hostilities?" exclaimed Aurora with huge blue eyes marking her astonishment. "What does that mean?"
Schlabel thought of explaining how deception and politics worked...but then decided Aurora was a very intelligent girl, older than her years, and said simply, "He's lying."
Admiral de Goethe nodded slowly, and she and the rest of the cabinet and the Empress' senior courtiers watched the girl's eyes narrow.
"How long before a fleet could be ready?"
"To match Eurusea's?" gaped Von Konigsmark. "Majesty."
"Yes. Not just a few ships, a real fleet, one to go out and do battle on Syskeyia's behalf."
"I need another couple of weeks." Admiral de Goethe replied. "Right now we are busy getting the resources together, Majesty. Most of our fleet stays close to ours or friendly ports, you see, but to be wise in possible war means to require much more...and also, is Your Majesty thinking of anything apart from fleet action?"
Aurora said, "What about if we actually have to fight on the ground?"
The old Admiral nodded and said, "Majesty, in that case we can airlift up to twenty thousand troops, but it is not so much a matter of that as sustaining them for more than a few days. What we have done is used the GUDA satellite system to cover the action as much as possible."
"Furthermore," Baron Shein through smoker's coughing and hacking said, "I am going to be in contact with allied and friendly intelligence to find out the rest."
"Very well then." said Aurora. "Do these things, and report to me when we are ready to act." she rose and left the room, thanking them for their time, Thirty Camelias stalking behind her, growling.

OOC-> across to http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=7694129#post7694129

Northern Front

"Gear up! Move out! Hustle, hustle, hustle!"

Specialist Danso, 21st Marine Corp of the Chimaean Armed Forces, awoke with a mutter and idly scratched himself. Then reality reasserted itself and he was up and strapping his backpack and webbing onto his body. He grabbed his CR50 HFW, his squad's machine gun, and was moving towards the assembly point with the rest of his squad before he could even think.

He got into formation with his platoon and stood at ease in the flurry and controlled chaos that was a rapid scramble. The cool air of morning eased the dull heat a little, though his dark skin glistened with perspiration. The rest of his squad were going through their pre-operational rituals, checking each other's gear and weapons, some of them glancing at him now and again. He tried to appear to be the immovable rock that gunners needed to be, though inside he was as tensely nervous as the next Marine. He hefted his large gun and put on what he hoped was a 'fuck 'em all' look.

Private Lewis moved over to him and offered him one of her endless supply of cigarettes. He didn't smoke much but took it anyway, hoping it added to the image he was trying to project. Lewis nodded and they shared a companionable silence as they watched a line of APCs being checked over. Danso and Lewis had gone through the rigorous MArine training together and had remained good friends throughout. Their two tours of duty (peackeeping in Street Island and as part of the rebuilding force in Colombia) had cemented their friendship, as with the rest of their squad. It was odd, though, because they had come from such different backgrounds--Danso an immigrant with his family from Ghana who had joined up because of the good pay and family support, Lewis from a upper-middle-class neighbourhood in New Sydney who'd joined up as an act of rebellion. They looked almost comical together, with Danso tall and muscled and Lewis small and wiry.

"Reckon this is it?" she asked, taking a deep drag of her cigarette.

Danso shrugged, blowing out smoke from his nose. "Dunno. They're really going at it though, so I guess it is yeah."

"Crap. didn't even get to polish my shoes."

They shared a brief and humourless laugh at the expense of one of their old drill sergeants. There was a brief silence, then Lewis sighed and asked quietly, "This isn't gonna be like Colombia, is it?"

Danso took the cigarette out of his mouth and made a face. "You should stop smoking this shit. Look... it'll be cool. We're trained and ready for this. So long as we watch each other's backs and not panic, we'll be ok."

"Yeah... Thing is--"

"Look, you heard the Sarge. Don't think, just do what you were trained to do and we'll get out of this on top."

"Yeah. Yeah. Thanks Dan."

The APCs had been finished with and had rolled up next to the platoon. Danso and Lewis filed into one with the rest of their squad, Danso taking the .50 calibre mounted machine gun on the top. Despite the heavy shielding around the machine gun nest, he still felt exposed as the APC growled to a start with its powerful 6 cylinder engine. Soon they were under way, heading out of the base and towards the border.

***

Command and Control, Syskeyiapolis

Brigadier Halstead walked into the Command and Control bunker, giving her signature on a clipboard whilst an aide walked beside her patiently. He took the clipboard and melted away while she walked up to the main map room, where General Williamson and the Admiral Wilder, commander of the First Fleet, was discussing the lit map on the map table with a Syskeyian officer.

"...the 33rd Infantry has made the initial incursions from the Western Front, along with 201st and 202nd Airborne." General Williamson was saying, "There's been major arms and supply lines established with the local militia. We got artillery strikes going from yesterday morning, though its difficult to pin-point enemy locations that far from the City and the risk of collateral damage is high."

The Brigadier saluted them, taking off her peaked cap. "I've just come back from the Northern Front. The mobilisation is going well and quickly, though we're expecting a fair bit of resistance from enemy units quite soon. We have helicopter support but I'd like a definite confirmation of a Syskeyian air presence if needed."

Before the Syskeyian officer could speak, Admiral Wilder interjected thoughtfully, "If worse comes to worse, then the First Fleet could give air support, though we'd like to concentrate on the Western and Eastern Fronts. Our surveilance craft are even now identifying targets and bases, specially in regards to mobile anti-air defences. We'll have to give these militia medals or something, we've gotten a fairly large amount of info, sometimes at great sacrifice. While we've put down scramblers and jammers the enemy have a fairly good ear on normal radio traffic. Brigadier, will you be joining us in the First Fleet?"

The Brigadier shook her head. "No, I'll be heading to the Western Front next."

The Admiral nodded sympathetically. "All right. Now, General, if the Airborne land here..."

The Brigadier listened to the discussion with half an ear, her mind on the battle ahead.

Bendecitia, day 9

The machines hummed as they slowly moved towards the outskirts of the city. They stopped suddenly and the prolonged gun unfolded and slowly moved back until it was set firm to the ground behind the vehicle. Mobile artillery unit four was deployed safely and without any disturbances, the almost eight meter long muzzle pointing towards the sky in an awkward angle. Chief tactician Papphammar watched the mobile artillery units signal on the GPS map as they reached their set locations in the different parts of the city. One of the reasons Bendecitia had been chosen was that there were limited ways to get to the city from other parts of Syskeyia since the seaside had been blocked by their mines. He already had ordered an attack on the Chimaean fleet that was on its way to aid Syskeyia. The enemy would have to choose between ignoring the mines or being sitting ducks. Papphammar knew that his fleet was nearly cut off from the main Veganian fleet since they couldn't get to Bendecitia in time to rescue them, his hope stood to delaying the reinforcements as long as possible. He rose and looked on the map again. He had almost 40 mobile artillery units deployed over the city, and a few anti-air units, but he knew that his position was weak, maybe too weak. He already had sent a penal battalion up north to prepare a guerilla war against the oncoming enemy; he sent a prayer to the souls of the local civilians that would encounter those brutes.

To the Most Benevolent Jaar

It is our understanding that you are currently involved in a conflict in Syskeyia. This places our nation in the difficult position of empathizing with your feelings regarding that nation and feeling obliged to defend a friendly country. What we would greatly prefer would be to discuss the possibility of negotiating a treaty rather than seeing further bloodshed. The Empress has stated that we would be perfectly willing to host or aid in mediation to mutual satisfaction of both parties. As we aim towards good relations with both Vegana and Syskeyia, this would be greatly to all our mutual benefits.

respectfully
Hans Schlabel, Chancellor of Lavenrunz

In space a GUDA satellite moved serenely over Syskeyia, recording transmissions and taking photographs. These were sent to The Imperial Space Agency in the city of Astra, which in turn sent them to the Ministry of War.

To The Honourable Hans Schlabel, Chancellor of Lavenrunz

I understand your concerns and though it really pains us this was our last resort. I am deeply moved by your offer to negotiate but I fear it is too late for that. The Reich is proud, just as Lavenrunz, and we see no reason to take abuse or the death of innocent Veganians lightly. We can’t have terrorists and murderers hiding in hostile nations without trying to get rid of the nest of Vipers that currently are getting a hold in Syskeyia. We see a new era of even more hostilities against the Wonderful nation of Vegana and The Reich and this is where we draw the line. We will leave Bendecitia when our operations are done and we can feel safe that they will not be commencing their vile deeds again. I understand your dilemma, the wonderful nation of Vegana was in the same tight spot when Lavenrunz found it necessary to intervene in North Star as I am sure you remember.

But just like you, Vegana doesn’t make treaties with terrorists, neither do we let those who seek our deaths to live.

~The most Benevolent Jaar

North Of Bendecitia

The farm burned with a sparkling sound spreading a fat sweet smell of flesh and burning wood. In front of the door lay the body of a man, beheaded after his death, but still holding a rifle in his hand. From the burning barn the screams of captured cattle was heard as cows tried to break the doors to freedom and safety. The ten men looked at their deed and their loot. One of them raised his hand and pointed towards a field, a small girl could be seen running towards the safety of the woods. One of the men raised his rifle to his shoulder, moved the necklace he wore a little to get a comfortable shooting stance and gently squeezed the trigger. He grunted with satisfaction as the small girl disappeared in the high grass as if jerked by a chain.

In the murky waters of the Pacific, a Seewulf class SSC submarine was moving steadily, staying low.



To the Most Benevolent Jaar

I understand your grief, and your trouble, and you are included in our prayers. However, you must see that we would be required to act on the part of an ally should you refuse to consider the alternative we present. It would be our deep regret if no other solution presented itself. I request that you instruct Duchess Lenore in instructing us as to what other possibilities exist for a more peaceful solution.

respectfully

Chancellor Hans Schlabel

The Pantocratorian transports which had so recently be turned back from St Peter Island would soon arrive at the Syskeyian mainland under the remnants of their escort. Their course would keep them safe this time, or so it was hoped. Once they were on land, Field Marshal Kantenozous would feel much less helpless.

(OOC: just let it be known that Tanah Burung and I agreed to this, and that this is the full extent of his involvement just to add realism to my arrival in the area)

Honoured Chancellor Schlabel,

On behalf of the Government-in-Exile of the United Provinces, many thanks for your letter. As always, the intention of Lavenrunz to keep the peace in this difficult conflict does credit to your nation.

We are pleased to agree to your request, on the understanding that Lavenrunz will do all within its power to seek the agreement of both sides to this peacekeeping deployment. If we had troops to spare, we would offer them to you as assistance in this effort, but sadly our forces are all committed at the moment.

We suggest that the air and port facilities on our offshore island of Tiga Burung would be suitable to the sort of deployment you have in mind. As you have been good enough to suggest safeguards, i suggest that they take the form of a recognition by your government that my government retains full sovereignty and that Lavenrunzian forces will withdraw on request from my government, with 30 days of notice required for any such request. Lavenrunz would also undertake not to transfer base facilities to a third country without permission from the Tanah Burung Government-in-Exile. I offer my personal assurances that i will not ask your forces to withdraw during the duration of the peacekeeping operation, but as you have recnognized, an agreement of this sort will be helpful.

There is one physical obstacle, however. Due to an unprovoked and illegal invasion, all suitable base facilities are currently under military occupation by the armed forces of Knootoss. As your government enjoys good relations with Knootoss, may i suggest that you ask the Knootians to withdraw from the airport and seaport of Tiga Burung and transfer them to your control? Your recognition of my government's sovereignty would of course preclude your returning these facilities to Knootian control at a later date. However, i trust this will not prevent well-entrenched Knootian forces from continuing to murder my people, massacre innocent priests and nuns, and the like.

Please accept the assurance of my highest regards to yourself and to the Empress.

Mari Alkatiri
People's representative for foreign affairs & human rights
(in Galdago)

To his Excellency Hans Schlabel

I find your tries to reach a peaceful solution very comforting. Noone wants the total war that is sure to follow any external aggressive interventions made in the Case of Syskeyia. Her Grace Lenore is well informed and if I am not misinformed you also have received permission to reopen the embassy in the forbidden city in Vegana itself. Many are the paths possible to walk, I rest assured that you will make the right decision.

In Grace
The Benevolent Jaar



Vegana City

Row after row they marched towards the hangars, all dressed in black and red, their armour not reflecting the sun. They were not carrying their viziers so their face could be seen, row after row with the same face, They were the Inquisitors of Q. All named with names starting with Q, all brothers, all prepared to die for their Faith and their nation. Tonight they were shipping them out to a military port, to meet up with the Panzer and the inquisitors of T. Within a week they should be prepared to be shipped out, and their target was yet unknown.

1st Infantry Division HQ
Fort Srisai, outskirts of New Nicaea metropolis

Major General Joachim Kwokwing, commander of the 1st Inf. Div., looked down on the divisional battle plan for the upcoming Battle of Bendecitia. "Well, the plan's all figured out, isn't it?"

"You know it'll go to hell once the bullets start flying, right, sir?" asked the divisonal XO in reply.

The general cracked a smile. "Sure will, but it's nice to know where we want to go and what we want to do once we get there." He turned to the XO. "Are the brigades ready?"

"Well, the artillery and support brigades have been ready for a while - as always - the aviation's up to snuff, the 1st and 2nd Infantry Brigades are ready, and the 1st Armored just got finished. And sir-"

"Yeah?"

"-the Abrams tankers say they love the new 'thirty-fives' and can't wait to use them."

"Can't blame them." Kwokwing took a swig of ice water. "Well, from what I hear from the other divisions, the Corps is all ready and waiting to move out. Same thing from the XVI Corps, but I don't know them personally. Now all we need to do is coordinate with the Chimaeans and we'll be ready to roll.

"And get a fan in here." He laughed, wiping sweat from his brow.

Vegana City

Row after row they marched towards the hangars, all dressed in black and red, their armour not reflecting the sun. They were not carrying their viziers so their face could be seen, row after row with the same face, They were the Inquisitors of Q. All named with names starting with Q, all brothers, all prepared to die for their Faith and their nation. Tonight they were shipping them out to a military port, to meet up with the Panzer and the inquisitors of T. Within a week they should be prepared to be shipped out, and their target was yet unknown.


The Islamic realms units under Veagan control prepared to go wherever ordered - their determiantion to prove themselves worthy allies had yet to be satisfied.
The council of faith was offering more men to fuel the Vegana assualt.
The islamic forces prepared with excitement for continued operations and roused each other with the motto "The true muezzins call shall be heard in every Syskeyian city"

They were seen like a flight of arrows from satellites in space, the far flung carrier groups of the Empire of Lavenrunz beginning to converge upon Tanah Burung. Still some days away, the groups, each a squadron on its own, made good time in spite of rough weather that was beginning to move towards the islands and coastal regions of the south pacific. On the high seas this was dangerous but not fatal; experienced commanders moved their ships a bit farther apart, made sure pilot lights and pre-arranged signals were working well.

In spite of this, a collision between two destroyers resulted in a number of casualties and both destroyers along with two rescuing frigates to be withdrawn from the area. Another accident resulted in a frigate turning the wrong way into a large wave and nearly foundering the ship. Swift action on the part of the captain enabled them to start up flooded engines and keep the ship from sinking, but it fell behind as it was doing emergency repairs.

Admiral von Tachteberg, the commander-in-chief of the naval mission, regarded the movements thus far as generally successful. He remarked to his staff, "To place us in seas we rarely operate in in such strength, combining hundreds of warships and auxiliary vessels in group movements, it would be surprising if there were not accidents. However, I am pleased by the responsiveness of my subordinates to the situations: this is in the best Lavenrunzian naval tradition, and moreover for the rest of the fleet to press on regardless."

One aide commented quietly and discreetly to another that the Admiral always sounded like he was practicing for a press conference.
"Or his memoirs." rejoined the other.

Letter:

To: Foreign Minister Aurora von Konigsmark, Lavenrunz
From: Prime Minister Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan, Knootoss
Priority: Urgent.

Word has reached me that the Teutonic Empire has deployed military forces with the intention to use the air and port facilities on the island of Tiga Burung along the way to the conflict in the Republic of Syskeyia. I must hereby urgently inform you that permission to access those facilities has never been granted by the the Knootian Defence Force and the international coalition against the terrorist organisation known as the Rumbiak Brigade, which currently holds control over these facilities. The Knootian Defence Force will defend with all means these facilities from unauthorised access by any third party.

I am frankly appalled that the Teutonic Empire, which we have always regarded as friends, would think that they could make such a deal without even so much as informing my government.

I am further dismayed that this act is being interpreted as a recognition (by your government) that the so-called ‘government in exile’ led by the Rumbiak Brigade member Altakiri is in control of this base, and that Lavenrunzian forces will act under their requests. The further provision precluding your returning these facilities to us after you have used them is flagrantly in violation of any expectations I built upon relation between our two nation as I have known it in the years that I have involved myself in its foreign policies. It is also completely unacceptable.

All suitable base facilities are currently in use for critical antiterrorist operations by the Knootian Defence Force and the international coalitions – whose efforts the Teutonic Empire claimed to support in the past. The Tiga Burung airfield is the only airfield in the country and as such has a high strategic value. No request whatsoever has been made to Knootoss for its use and we refuse to withdraw from the airport and seaport of Tiga Burung or transfer control to any third party.

We would, however, be willing to enter negotiations on sharing the base with Lavenrunzian forces deploying to the Republic of Syskeyia, even if my faith in your nations foreign policy has been severely damaged by this incident. The Knootian cabinet would have been happy to negotiate to share facilities with you in support of your Syskeyian deployment, provided that any acknowledgement of the government in exile is immediately withdrawn until the IMC negotiations designated for that purpose have reached a mutually agreed positions, and if full and unflinching Lavenrunzian support for Operation Tempo Dulu and its legality is immediately declared. Should such conditions be met we are most willing to enter negotiations about a possible Lavenrunzian deployment.

Yours,

Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan

Empress Aurora frowned, after reading the letter, and immediately sent for Chancellor Schlabel and Foreign Minister von Konigsmark. After conferring for some time, Aurora sent this reply



Dear Prime Minister nos Cirdan

It is so good to hear from you, even under distressing circumstances. How could we ever forget how much your nation has been a friend to ours? Our ties go back a long way, and our recognition of your nation's freedom and right to pursue its own ends even farther.

I'm not quite sure how you got the impression that we have recognized the political movements related to the Marcus Rumbiak brigades--the publication--rather irresponsibly--by the press in relation to a letter by a spokesperson for this movement doesn't mean that Lavenrunz recognizes it.

The thing is, Aurora von Konigsmark told Chancellor Schlabel that everything was fine with using--not taking over but using your base in Tiga Burung. However, I gather that our ambassador to Knootoss in some spirit of optimism misunderstood something your foreign minister said, and thus for want of a nail...

I truly hope we can avoid any mutual embarassment. My understanding was that since we already had observers in Tanah Burung and since we had earlier supported your position through the IMC that it would be alright. So what I would like is for us to have a mutual statement of agreement and friendship along with your agreement to let our planes and ships land. If that is satisfactory please let me know.

most affectionately
Aurora von Sachshausen
Empress of Lavenrunz

A small smile played on Galadriëls lips as she read the letter, and she began to type a prompt reply:


To: Foreign Minister Aurora von Konigsmark, Lavenrunz
From: Prime Minister Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan, Knootoss

A mutual statement of agreement and friendship would be welcome. Such a statement, in our view, would have to reaffirm that Lavenrunz and Knootoss do not yet acknowledge the "government-in-exile" until the IMC negotiations designated for that purpose have reached a mutually agreed positions, along with full and unflinching Lavenrunzian support for Operation Tempo Dulu and its legality

If such a statement is made it may be accompanied by an agreement to let planes and ships already deployed land provisionally - with further discussions on the exact scope of Lavenrunzian deployments and the financial aspects of the use of Tiga Burung facilities it pending. I can assure you that the DDR will be most accomodating insofar as these aspects are concerned, should this common position be reaffirmed. It should, however, be clear in any such agreement that Lavenrunzian forces are there upon the invitation of the Knootian Defence Force, as guests, and that the sharing of these base facilities relates in no way whatsoever to the actions of the usurpers in Galdago.

Yours,

Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan

Empress Aurora stared at the message.
"That looks hopeful." suggested the Foreign Minister.
"Except..." the Empress muttered. She rose and then turned with her blue eyes huge with fury. "Except she didn't respond to me, even though I wrote the letter! She responded as if you had written it!" She furiously ripped the copy to pieces and threw them in the fire grate.
"Maybe it was a mistake." offered Schlabel calmly. "Maybe we should...well, you know, let he who is without sin cast the first stone...moreover, this could be a blessing in disguise."


Dear Prime Minister nos Cirdan

The Empress is most upset at your failure to respond to her directly in your last letter--this is a discourtesy of enormous gravity in our culture. So serious is it, in fact, that Her Majesty is wondering what it could possibly mean. Perhaps you could explain this, and find some way to convince Her Majesty that no offense was meant.

With all gravity
Aurora von Konigsmark
Minister of Foreign Affairs
Lavenrunz

Sultan Hatusu was to address the council in her own throne room, she was dressed in her finest royal garb, consisting of large flowing red silk robes wrapped tightly around her body.
Low rhythmic songs and flute music filled the councils ears as they entered.
Women of all sorts of races and sizes flaunted themselves around the chamber , many danced in slow, lurid steps to the music. The court was almost exactly as the sultan had left it, it was expected for the sultan to have such 'goings-on', Hatusu simply was culturally bound to keep the status quo - the only real change[besides more men in service] Hatusu had brought about was guests were to carry themselves to a stricter level of conduct.
Hatusu addressed her council in her most flamboyant voice ,"Come in gentlemen and women! Welcome to court of the one whom heaven loves!! Walk in, enjoy the music, enjoy the dancing! The Sultan honors you as her guests!"
Oiled men, and beautiful women lounged around as the coucil gathered. Hatusu planed to make this meeting quick and brutal. "my council of faith. I brought you here so we could celebrate what I have decided upon. Colonel Zacowe - our commander of the islamic expeditionary force serving under Vegana command is to be promoted to general, and given three more MechInfantry companies to prove that we support our Vegana allies. Along with the needed logistics and support equipment, we shall also inscrease our air and sea commitment to Jaars command. Honor to Vegana , whatever they need we shall give. Any objections?"

From the murky depths of the sea, the Lavenrunzian submarine Lammergeier rose almost silently, using not propellers but water propulsion, confusing detection systems and seeming to be of natural origins to any but the most discerning observers using the most up to date equipment.
When it had nearly reached periscope depth, Captain-Lieutenant Ulrich Kress, the commander, ordered it to slow to a near halt so that they could detach a mini sub carrying the Seelow Comando Team.
The team consisted of fourteen commandos, led by Lieutenant-Commander Adolph Meyer, a tough young man who had been an Ensign during the Ienotheisan War. They were armed to the teeth with FLIR helmets linked to their weapons, which included MP-5s with built in silencers, G-11s, two HK21 GPMGs, rocket launchers, grenade launchers and knives and pistols. However, their most important equipment was the listening devices they would have to assemble when ashore.

Galadriël facepalmed, sending out an excuse.


To: Empress Aurora von Sachshausen, Lavenrunz
CC: Foreign Minister Aurora von Konigsmark, Lavenrunz
From: Prime Minister Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan, Knootoss

Your Majesty,*

I most sincerely apologise for failing to respond to your letter directly and must assure you that no offence was meant by this. I can further assure you that the Dutch Democratic Republic holds you in the highest regard and would not dare think of insulting you intentionally

It appears there has been a most embarrassing mix-up at the foreign ministry which led to your letter (which I did most appreciate) to be processed with an invalid computer code; the involved persons have been reprimanded appropriately and I can assure you that this will not happen again.

Highest regards,

Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan


OOC: -_-
* The asterisk denotes that whichever title would have been ICly appropriate would have been used here. If it wasn’t YM. Read it as such. :P

a cellar in Bendecitia, day thirteen

The man woke up in the dark big room not knowing where he was. he couldn't for his life understand why he had been apprehended, he didn't have any close family so it couldn't be because of any relative of his was involved in anything. He had always kept for himself and always kept out of trouble. He was pretty sure he never commited any crime or anything that would seem to be rebellious. This must be a mistake! He could barely move his head but he could see that he shared the room with five more people strapped to their beds just like him. He heard a voice, that horrible voice he had heard in the feverish dreams that had plagued him the last 24 hours.

-"They are perfect! just perfect! Nothing in the records, excellent examples of Syskeyian citizens. No relatives in Bendecitia and no close relatives still alive. Kept for themselves and always did a good job in the work place."

-"And noone that would know them too good?"

-"Noone, that was the reason we only got six, that and the time limit we were given"

-"And you are satisfied with the results of our project?"

-"Very, lets bring them in so you ca nsee for yourself"

The man strapped to the bed stretched his neck as he could hear footsteps. He saw a line of men and women walk by he froze and started to scream when he saw the face of the last man in the line. It was like looking in the mirror, it was him! He screamed in terror as his copy turned to one of the voices and told them.

-"It seems as if my twin has awaken..."

He still screamed as he felt the needle in his arm and he fell into oblivion.

North of Bendecitia

The trench was humid and warm with a smell of excrements and sweat. Captain Vogel had spent the last days digging in here in the mountains north of Bendecitia and the only thing he had seen as far as enemies could be accounted for was their own dog soldiers. Vogel had shot two himself, they were worse than vermin, he felt sick thinking of what he had seen of their work in the farmland on his way to this defensive postition. He watched over his shoulder, looking at the tank concealed with the thermo blanket and the thick trees, invisible to the all seeing eyes that he knew were watching them from the skies and even furhter away...

Off shore Bendecitia

The Destroyers from the two carrier groups were on highest alert. They knew that the mines would keep their enemies occupied for a while but sooner or later they would try their luck and try to breach their defenses. Feeling the warmth of the sun in his face on one of them, Captain Dmitri looked on the unmanned fighters starting for the Chimaean fleet in the dozens. When his father had been young he knew that those vessels would have been manned and many of them would have lost their lives in their attacks on the enemy ships. Now he knew that none of the unmanned would come back, but still, no Veganians would have to pay the ultimate prize in the fight against the nephilim deamons. He smiled and shadowed his eyes with his hand, following the rows of small fighters, all equipped with two missiles, each powerful enough to sink a ship. God bless progress! He thought as he lowered the sonar buoys into the water.

As Christ was the true lamb and Sacrifice for humanity...we too must be a Sacrifice for the greater good..
Iesus Christi has given support to this war...with aid and transportation we have done our part but so far only small numbers of volunteers have taken part in this true and wonderful cruade.
Comrades! Citizens! Brothers and sisters! Troopers of our armed forces!! I tell you we must now do more to help in this glorius task...we must stand united to smash the forces of western hatred !
Therefore I order the deployment of Taskforce: Regina Caeli...a force containing groundtroops, sea and air units... to aid our reich brothers.

HEIL VICTORY!

Matthew Iesus

North of Bendecitia
The newly promoted General Zacowe lead his men from the front and he had requestedthat the islamic forces be placed in the front line to show their loyalty to the cause and to give several Vegena brigades rest
Lacking targets, the Starians scrunch deeper in their trenches waiting for the inevitable assault.

North Star
Mobilisation of reinforcements to the expeditionary division was making ports alive with activity.
More escorts and aircover was being assigned to the logistics supply line to ensure safe arrival of the troops already underway.

(ooc: this is my brief acknowledgement of Lavenrunzian forces using base facilities in Tanah Burung. If Knootian military has suspended the publication of this church-sponsored paper, then consider the report to have been published from exile. As L. said, this is the full extent of my participation in this conflict. Happiest of new years to all!)

Tiga Burung Messenger
A MORE WELCOME DEPLOYMENT

Today the armed forces of the Teutonic Empire of Lavenrunz arrived in force in Tiga Burung port and airfield en route to a peacekeeping deployment to wartorn Syskeyia, whose devout people are under attack.

The Bishop of Tiga Burung has asked the citizenry to give all possible cooperation to Lavenrunzian forces. "These forces are on a mission of righteousness, unlike the Knootian invaders," said a source close to Bishop Bendoro. "Lavenrunz is known widely as an honourable nation. Personally, i plan to welcome Empress Aurora's fleet with open arms. And all our prayers are with the people of Syskeyia." The Bishop has, however, repeated his call for non-coooperation with Knootian forces who remain in control of the port and airfield.

The deployment by forces of the Teutonic Empire has been reached by mutual agreement between Chancellor Schlabel of Lavenrunz and Mari Alkatiri, the people's representative for foreign affairs & human rights, currently heading up the government-in-exile of the United Provinces, and has also been approved by people's representative for territorial defence & sports Bi Kikere, in command of resistance forces inside Tanah Burung. "This agreement constitutes continued recognition of Tanah Burung's independence by Lavenrunz," Alkatiri said. "It also expresses our hope for peace."

This newspaper has been unable to confirm reports that the Rumbiak Brigade has denounced Lavenrunz for "taking part in an imperialist and colonialist war of aggression."

Naval Base, east coast of Vegana

The sun was shimmering in the water like false gold in a stream, shattered by the hundreds of ships silently moving through it out into open sea. Even if the ships individually was silent the number of men aboard and the sheer number of ships created a mighty roar on the sonars and over the sea. The size of the fleet was huge and colours from several different Reich countries could be seen, There was the ensignias of Iesus Christi, of Infinite Loving and of course of North Star among others sailing together with The Veganian vessels. The enormous contingent was surrounded by aircrafts circling the massive force like sea Gulls. This was an invading force not a small punative expedition like the one in Bendecitia. This was like a sailing city, with millions of inhabitants.

Reich Space

The StreiteKräfte followed their sea force with great interest. Theirs was the objective to defend the force that looked like a big fat target for a nuke while sailing. The communicationcentres were examining both the surroundings and further away to be able to disable any missiles fired at the fleet from a distance. Counter Admiral Peugeot envied the men down there, Oh, to sail a ship on the (at least) seven sea and engage horrible heretic enemies down there. In so many ways it was so much more personal than sitting in a ship and never lay eyes on your enemies. He looked on the blob that was the Reich fleet, watching the scanner search the plotted route to their target and nodded with satisfaction. So far the route was quite clear as far as station 407 could see. Playtime was over...

"Come forth Mary Albert, who is to be champion of Christ"
In dress unifrom, Admiral Mary Albert marched forward from the ranks of officers, and prostrated herself before the seated Lord Protector Matthew Iesus, next to him stood Cardinal Thomas.
Cardinal Thomas recited the ancient prayer,while as the choir chanted its traditonal hymn*.
"In the name of Christ the eternal King , I call you forth Admiral Mary Albert and give you the great Commission..In the name of the eternal cross you shall defend the cause of Christ and his people! Fight the forces of Satan and bring the light of Christ to the world!
Mary ...are you prepared to undertake this role?"
"By God and his holy Church I am"
"Then kiss the Cross of Christ"
Rising to her knees, Admiral Mary Albert kissed the cardinals Crucifix.
"Almighty Father, grant to this servant of yours the dignity of the Cross.
May she be faithful in your cause forever, so that the words of the Gospel may reach the ends of the earth.
The Father anointed our Lord Jesus Christ
through the power of the Holy Spirit.
May Jesus preserve you to sanctity the Christian Cause
Amen!"
Matthew stood and boomed.
"Admiral Mary Albert! Servant of Christ. Stand! Are you prepared for this holy task?"
"My Lord protector....defender of our faith....I am, Requesting permission to carry out my orders! "
"Then in the name of the hero martyrs, Carry out your patriotic mission!"
"HEIL IESUS!"


Admiral Mary Albert commanded the Iesus carrier 'golgotha' in the massive Reich fleet. She commanded the Iesus forces of Taskforce: Regina Caeli within the larger Vegena controlled battlegroup.




* http://grkat.nfo.sk/hudba/zbors22.mp3

As the mini-sub was piloting its way towards the shores of Syskeyia, it and the Lammergeier picked up signals indicating the movements of destroyers on the surface.
"Gottverdammt." muttered Captain-Lieutenant Kress. He felt cold sweat as he contemplated the blip that represented the mini-sub.
"Shall we recall them, Captain?" inquired his first lieutenant.
Kress paused a moment in thought.

At that same moment, the pilot-officer of the mini-sub froze. Would the propulsion tech evade the sonarbuoys? Intelligence indicating their capability suggested it would be very dicey. She glanced at the lieutenant-commander, who was leaning nearby, and saw him nod, tense faced but grimly intent.

Kress saw the boat proceeding, and shook his head. "No. They know the risks, it's their call. But we stay out of range for now, that's our orders." He was all too aware of death rumbling in the destroyers above.

Offshore Bendecitia, The Destroyer "Dophilus"

He looked at the sonar pattern with disbelief, there was something down there, something that gave away a strange pattern. The computers compared it to fish schools, seals and big fish but there was no match. He switched from Sonar to radar and got a small shadow that differed from the sea topography, there could be no doubt, this had to be an intrusion. He gave the order and gave away the coordinates. Small packages began to be catapulted into the sea around the area where the disturbance had been seen, small deadly electro magnetic explosive packages, exploding under the surface. On the deck people watched the small fountains of water that could be seen after each ecxplosion with grim satisfaction.

Aboard the Lammergeier the Weapons Command officer exclaimed, "My Captain, we are under attack from above!"
Captain-Lieutenant Kress said in a calm voice, "We will go silent now. Pass the order, Lieutenant, and then give the order to release debris and oil."
There was a look of relief on many faces, seeing the commander respond so coolly to the crisis.

In all areas of the ship, the word was passed: the explosions began to rock the boat, and instrument screens flickered. Beads of nervous sweat trickled down many a neck and were on many a brow. No one so much as clicked a button hard or dropped a spoon in the galley.

Simultaneously, the mini-sub slowed to a halt, the commandos tense and silent, aware of how frail their machine was...

And at that moment one of the bombs struck close, and in one of the torpedo rooms water suddenly rushed in with horrifying strength, bowling men and women over, their screams muffled by the roaring torrent. As water poured around their legs, two petty officers began to seal the forward compartment, barely able to close the hatch in time. They look at one another with horror and sorrow.

Onboard the destroyer "Dophilus"

Dmitri watched as debris and oilslicks started to appear on the surface as the sea begun to calm after the explosions. Apparently the deamon spawn had tried to aid the terrorists on the mainland, god knew what was aboard that vessel down there. He looked at one of the aides that still watched the screens.

-"Report!" he barked, watching the man jump in his seat at this interruption of the silence that had been before.

-"We still have a strange radar echo, but the sonar has gone dead quiet sir!"

Dmitri contemplated the situation for a while and then made his decision.

-"pick up the debris for identification and then drop another load of bombs before we move out! We have a lot of coast to cover, so hurry up! I'll be in my quarters, report to me when we reach the next point" He listened to the rumbling of the bombdroppers starting up again. He was really keen on finding out who that debris belonged to and he knew his superiors was too.

OOC: Finally, I'm going to post x_X I hope the damage I take will be realistic, but keep in mind I still have no idea about naval warfare =O) So if you reckon I should have copped harder losses, I'm willing to discuss and edit.

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

"Sir, AWACS and the Syskeyian Sats show a launch of interceptors from Grid 12--"

The Bridge of the CSS Jindalee suddenly errupted into the calm chaos of an operation. The Jindalee was one of the Command and Control vessels of the First Fleet, at the moment commanded by Vice Admiral Zoryn, a thickset man with a neatly trimmed goatee and a thousand-watt glare. He sat at one of the stations, running through reports as the First Fleet engaged pre-prepared defensive actions.

The seas were made even more treacherous by the presense of the bio-mines, though. This worried the Vice Admiral. Whilst most of the mines behind them had been laboriously cleared with the help of the Syskeyian mine-clearing ships and numerous underwater bombing and deflector runs, ahead were still a large amount of the jellyfish-like weapons. Though the First Fleet was naturally spread out over a large amount of area, the Gulf offered limitted evasive manouevering area. If worst came to the worst, they'd have to take mine damage while launching the defence.

He cursed out loud, wishing Admiral Wilder was back in the Fleet instead of Syskeyiapolis.

***

The automated defence systems in the ships caught the radar and satellite signatures of the enemy aircraft and readied themselves. The onboard computers ran through millions of combinations of manouevers and set up various sub-systems for the battle ahead.

Ammunition was checked and triple checked, manual gun emplacements were armed and readied. Defence stations were speedily manned. Missile batteries whirred into life, turning slightly as the guidance systems fed data corrections and calculations into their firing systems.

On the carriers, attack jets sped up into the sky to join the other aircraft already there. Various Carrier groups took up different positions along the Fleet, ready for different attack and defend roles.

The mines were dealt with as much as possible. The submarines increased their volley of small, self powered bots to detect and collide with as many of the bio weapons as possible. The surface of the sea started to burst rapidly in hundreds of places, sending pieces of metal and splashes of water into the air from the underground explosions.

***

The formation of five SC-42 AirHawks (AC4 Unit) settled briefly into a slant as they headed out to meet the enemy aircraft. Above, below and around them were other groups of Chimaean jets which seemed to fill the sky. Already, more planes were leaving the Carriers.

AC4 Unit were outfitted strictly for air-air combat operations. The missiles launched from the wings of the AirHawks were varieties of the Sabre Missile System, designed for fast, disabling hits. These were mostly close qaurters radar guided and were heat seaking. The missiles launched from the underbelly of the aircraft were the deadlier varieties of the Clocker Missile System, designed to cause as much destruction as possible. They were satellite guided; a lot more accurate and with a greater distance capability than the Sabres.

The pilots engaged their defence and attack systems once they were in the air and by the time they got into formation, they were fully armed. The chatter at this stage was the tense ritual the pilots conducted before an engagement.

"...probably be sending a bunch of flying swastikas at us."

"Or maybe they strap their leaders onto their planes? I can just see Jaar or Mathew flying towards us at Mach 2, screaming incoherently..."

The chatter turned professional as they neared the intercept point.

"AC4 have radar on tangoes, proceeding to engage."

"Roger that, AC4. Good luck out there!"

"AC4 Beta, locked on target."

"AC4 Gamma, locked on target."

One by one the five planes locked an enemy aircraft on their radar. The missiles automatically readied for immediate launch. All across the sky the other Chimaean planes locked the targets.

"Firing sidewinder 1--"

There was a chorus of missile reports as the first salvo was launched, some pilots chosing the lighter armaments and some the heavier Clocker missiles. Then--

"Have eyes on tangoes repeat eyes on tangoes--

***

The sky in front of the Fleet became a battlefield of explosions and missiles as the Chimaean planes engaged the unmanned aircraft. The ship-air defences instantly activated as the surviving enemy units got closer or broke through the missile salvo. To the men operating the missile batteries, it seemed as though they'd caught fire as all the missile tubes emptied at once at the incoming aircrafts. They watched as enemy missiles were launched; each aircraft seemed to have only two heavy anti-ship missiles. The Fleet immiedtaely launched the chaff missiles in response; the bulbous heads of the chaff missiles exploded in a timed burst around the ships in clouds of white and silver.

The battle was short and hard. Seven times various ships had to engage the Wall of Steel, where all weapons systems fired in contained arcs around the ship when enemy units got close.

***

Vice Admiral Zoryn paced the length of the map room, moodily listening to the damage report that an aide was giving from a computer terminal at one end.

"...Managed to destroy most of the aircraft, sir, but they were unmanned ones. We lost five SC-42s in the air; eight on board CSS Perth when one of the planes crashed into the port side. The Perth are effecting repairs bu I don't think we can we can get her combat-effective again for two, maybe three days. Thirty-three ships are reporting minor-medium damage which can be repaired quickly; five are critical and out. Sir... the CSS Sherlock Holmes, a destroyer, is partially under water and cannot be salvaged, the surviving crew have been evacced. It was hit with three missiles on the rear engine area and sustained heavy damage which was compounded by one of the engines' failsafes malfunctioning, causing it to explode. The CSS Essen is also low in the water, sir, but stable and can be towed. The carriers have sustained various levels of damage but none are in any dangerous state at the moment."

The Vice Admiral nodded. "Mine damage?"

"Mine damage has effected most ships, sir, with two ships critical for at least twenty four hours. They encountered a cluster that wasn't wiped by the subs."

The Vice Admiral scowled. "All right. Inform CAFHC that we are now taking the battle to them. Launch the long-range and cruise missiles then send out our first air to ground runs. Maintain course and leave behind guard for those ships that cannot move."

***

The long range missiles were a step away from the conventional cruise missiles used by most ships. They delivered a 200-350 kg explosive over a much longer distance and most of the bulk of the missile was taken up with the heavier propulsion and guidance systems. They were controlled by radar and satellite guidance, and could contour the ground until it met with the intended target at high speed. The long range missiles were used as a sophisticated form of 'bulk destruction' of soft and medium targets and to cause general choas instead of the pin-point and heavier attacks the cruise missiles were used for. They had an optimal operating distance of 2, 300 km as opposed to the 1, 600 of conventional cruise missile.

The first salvo of missiles from the First Fleet were aimed at the Veganan ships around the coast of Benedictia, the second at selected ground-air batteries that could be traced, as well as suspected military installations near the coast.

The three wings that launched afterwards were composed of one hundred and sixty-two aircraft, fifty-four in each wing. Two were multirole wings and had fast attack aircraft for air-toair defence and medium multi-role aircraft, outfitted with mostly air-ground armament. The third wing was composed of mainly bombers with escorts and refuellers and took a less direct route towards inland and coastal Benedictia.

The Pantocratorian landing force which had been turned back from St Peter Claver Island now at last arrived at the Syskeyian mainland. Field Marshal Kantenouzous watched over the harbour as his troops disembarked at Bandalore. This was where he wanted to be - on land, not at sea. Here he was in his element.

The Duc de Montmanuel finished talking with his officers and approached the Field Marshal, snapping a salute.

"Sir, the Imperial Equites Legion has disembarked." he reported.

"Thankyou, Your Grace." replied the Field Marshal. He put his eyes back to his binoculars as the final elements of his own legion disembarked. "Tomorrow morning we'll get moving to the front."

"Finally, sir." said the Duc de Montmanuel, eagerly flapping his gloves about as he gestured to an officer in the turret of a tank far below.

"Well, I'm glad to be back on dry land too, Your Grace, but we needn't be too excited at the prospect. The enemy is brutal and utterly unprincipled. I understand from Mater that they've employed biological weapons. Make sure to run your men through some bio-response and gas mask drills. They might need them." said the Field Marshal grimly.

"Bloody Reich cowards. Can't win a straight up fight so they go trying to change the rules eh, what what?" said Montmanuel disparagingly.

"Oh, they can win a straight up fight too. Don't worry about that, Your Grace." said the Field Marshal, rolling his eyes. "Don't you worry about that."

***

To: Syskeyian Military Command
From: Field Marshal Andronicus Kantenouzous, Commanding the Tenth Imperial Expeditionary Force, Bandalore

Gentlemen,

The Tenth Imperial Expeditionary Force disembarked today at Bandalore, and stand ready to be deployed to assist your forces on the front. I stand-by to receive your requests and to aid you in the defence of your motherland.

With my complements,

Field Marshal Andronicus Kantenouzous,
Commander of the Infantry Legion of the Exarchate of New Jerusalem,
Commanding the Tenth Imperial Expeditionary Force,
Bandalore

Bendecitia

Deep inside a newly created bunker Private Higgins coughed. He felt like his body was burning up and his cough was getting worse for every minute. He looked down on his napkin and saw some stains of blood. It definitely was time to take the antibiotics, he looked at the thick needle for a second and then slammed it down into his thigh, it was a short searing pain that quickly became a floating sensation as the drugs begun to do their works.

Veganian Governors Office, Bendecitia

They still had a lot of insurgent roaming the streets and now they had reports of foreign forces sneaking in and making this even more difficult and if that not was enough they had some kind of disease spreading among the men! He shook his head in disbelief, in front of him he had a report of a block where there were both reports of insurgents and the disease. He had to do something drastic, he looked at the PM from Chief Tactician Papphammar that lay there on the desk. Drastic times take drastic measures had been his exact words, not to mention that rubble was easier to defend than full buildings. His men already had created an iron ring around the block but it was huge. He reached his decision and signed the order to blow the whole apartmentblock up, without letting anyone leave. That might contain the disease he thought... and maybe teach the insurgents a lesson. His demolitionsexperts would create a rubble of the buildings in just a few minutes, he decided to make the demolition at dawn, before anyone woke up.

Offshore Bendecitia

Commander Moran swore under his breath. The airassault had made much less damage than he had hoped for and now they were being counterattacked. It was expected but they still had too many planes in the air for his liking. He ordered countermeasures to be set and more planes to get into the air. These planes were not unmanned since they had found that dogfights was not suitable for AI's. He watched them start one by one from the fleet, the enemies were not in sight yet, but they didn't need to be to fire their deadly loads. He also ordered his submarines to attack the Chimaean fleet while it still was shook and while their focus was on his fleet instead of being attacked. Maybe some of those plaens would return and find that there was nowhere to land? He smiled at the thought as the sirene for an incoming attack begun to sound accompanied by the Dum-Dum sound of countermeasures being fired from all the boats. Here comes the pain! He thought

Commander Moran
The islamic forces in your command are appear of the situation, and as a united body are prepared to fight to their last breath.
Victory forcer - Inshalla allah
General Zacowie

In their defences, the islamic units prepared themselves with tales and battle song.Many beating their breasts and chanting: "Hussain, Hussain, Hussain,
Hussain!" Tales of Hussain's Martyrdom inspired them, many wanted to recieve the Martyrdom and warn eternal glory.

Bendecitia, at dawn

The block was completely silent and the patrols that had been there just hours earlier had been withdrawn. The only sign of Veganian presence was the unmarked car placed in different corners of the apartment block. The night before a martial law had been declared in the block and anyone out on the streets outside daylight had been threatened to be shot. Those threats seemed far away now when the skies had begun to be painted red by the slowly rising sun.

Chief Engineer Yum Seup checked his instruments one last time, it was improtant that the explosions came at the right moment to get the maximum effect. Each car was carrying almost half a ton of explosives and there would only be rubble left of it when it exploded, but at least the insurgents would be no more in this block at least. He sent a thought to the 4,000 people living there before pressing the button and feeling more than hearing the explosion.

Offshore Bendecitia

Wingcommander Haraldson was the first to make contact with the enemy. He counted to two wings with 54 vessels in each, seemed like fighters, he checked for multilock and then let go of his first fire-and-forget missiles. He swore under his breath, maybe he was too eager, maybe the distance was too long but they were outnumbered out here and he needed every edge he could get. He was born to do this, he had been raised in one of The Reich flight schools, doing simulators from age five, been deemed unfit for space fighters and now was stuck down here. But maybe this day was the day to show them who was unfit or not. He signalled his wing and started to make a complicated maneuver to bring them up to flank the oncoming waves of planes.

Offshore Bendecitia, Cruiser "Jeremiah"

An enormous blast shook the hull as they recieved another direct hit from one of the missiles that had snuck through the missile defense. Fire, FIRE! Smoke everywhere, blood, pain, water coming in, The Water is coming, THE WATER! MAYDAY! MAYDAY!

On the Nephilim Smiter they watched as Jeremiah quickly sunk, they could see some heads bobbing for the waves but most people had probably been killed by the initial explosions. Life boats were ordered out to bring in the surviving seamen.

The debris floating to the surface was to all appearances Chimaean in origin.

Below the surface, all was silent aboard the Lammergeier.

The small blue house was set in the middle of the suburb, in a neighborhood swarming with similar houses painted in all the colors of the rainbow. It had a small yard dominated by a big chestnut tree with leaves in different nuances of red and yellow, making it look like a huge bonfire with flames falling now and then, gently being rocked by the wind all the way to the ground where the red fiery color quickly turned brown and then slowly black. The sun smiled warmly at the small town this fine autumn day, the last few days had brought frost during the night and it was obvious to anyone that winter was coming.

She was tidying up in the livingroom, the kids always left a mess and she had had visitors, her in-laws, and the kids always got excited when their grand-parents came along and spoiled them. She smiled at the memory of her youngest kid trying to keep up with her older siblings and toting along until her oldest son started to carry his baby sister so she wouldn't miss out on all the wonders of the toys their grand parents had brought. She was truly blessed with wonderful kids and even if her husband always tried to keep discipline the little trollops had him wrapped around their little fingers. She moved the sofa and removed the toys that had been stuck their, putting them in the big box where they belonged. She smiled at the thought of telling her husband of the development of their little family, he had been gone for six months now, leaving when Emily, the youngest, only was one. He was due back in a month, the last time he had been forced to stay but this time he had promised he would be back in time for Jack, his second sons, ninth birthday. She felt her stomach grow warm with excitement, it had been too long since he had hold her in his arms, since he took her by her shoulders and led her into a room the way that made her feel so safe. She longed for his embrace and the little talks they had before they went to sleep. Those talks about everything and nothing, just to share each others opinions about the ordinairy things of life, about what they had encountered during the day and how they felt about it. Only a month left! She thought, Thirty more days until he saw his face again, the smile, those wonderful warm brown eyes that looked at her as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world! She looked down upon her ring, playing with it on her finger, it shone in pure silver blended with gold in an oak leaf shape. She still remembered the day they met and the day they wed as it was yesterday. She sighed and continued to move the coffee table to make enough room for her vacuum cleaner, she almost didn't hear the doorbell over the noice.

-"Mother! its for you!" Her oldest son Timmy yelled for her, wonder who it could be? She wasn't expecting anyone she thought as she turned off the vacuum cleaner and walked towards the door. There were two strange men and a woman in the hallway, after a second she recognised father O'Sullivan as one of the men.

-"Father! How nice of you to drop by...." She started until she saw the grim faces of the men and the woman in the room a cold feeling begun to spread throughout her body .

-"I'm sorry to bring you the news" It was the woman that talked "Your husband was killed heroically defending the emperors peace against insurgents early yesterday morning"

She felt dizzy, her legs felt weak and the womans voice distant. What did she know!? Surely she must be wrong, she had talked with him just the other day. They had discussed Jacks birthday and he had been afraid that Emily wouldnt recognise him when he came back. It must be a case of mistaken identity! Hundreds of thoughts flew through her head until she was interrupted by a wailing pitched noice, it was her own voice. Twisting the ring on her finger she felt the tears well up, she felt as if her chest was completely numb, total emptiness combined with a pain she couldn't locate, everywhere in her body but at the same time nowhere. She felt the hands of the Father on her shoulder, giving in to her grief she put her face into her hands and felt her tears burning down the cheeks. She was left hugging her children close to her body, convulsing in tears. Outside the window another leaf slowly started its descent to the ground...

The command room of the Golgotha was alive with action as the Admiral prepared to address the fleet.
Admiral Mary Albert tugged her uniform down,and tried to make sure everything was straight. She hated her dress uniform....not only was it not comfortable, but it wasnt made for a women of her dimensions. She cursed fascist uniform designers and turned on the view screen.
"Comrade Iesus soldiers of the fleet!
Soon, we shall see action against the hated enemy....the days of silence are over....as we have defeated them in the past , we shall defeat them again but this time we shall create a forever peace upon the bones of our enemies!
Fear not on the eve of battle....With the tenderness and gentleness of a thousand mothers,Our Mother Mary guards us....Yes the Queen of heaven leds her children....
As Christ was triumphant at Calvary, we shall be triumphant here!
Prepare for battle!
HEIL JAAR!
HEIL IESUS!
HEIL VICTORY!"


"Blood cries out for blood. Iesus mourns the fallen of Vegena, and vows to honour their blood sacrifice "
Matthew Iesus

The team of Seelow commandos moved stealthily in the hour before dawn up a rocky beach. The waves made a constant roar, pebbles and rocks hissing as the foam retreated. Heading up to some sandy bluffs before a treeline, they paused, alert for any sign of danger, as their leader checked first the map and GPS, then signalled for them to head inland towards their destination.

The Lammergeier moved deep into the ocean, heading towards the general line of approach of the Veganan carrier group, and at the captain's command launched a series of nautical microphones.

INS NEWS SPECIAL REPORT

(Opening Theme of Berlioz' "March to the Scaffold" is played in a jazzed up way)
(handsome man with fair hair touched with grey appears at a newsdesk with a map of Lavenrunz behind him, crowned leopard imposed on it)
"Good morning loyal fellow subjects: I'm Hans Kleber and this is an Imperial News Service special report. Today our Pacific Fleet arrived at Tiga Burung, where it may become involved in an intervention in Syskeyia. We are going live now over to carrier Bretwalda with Antonia Berg. Hello Antonia!"
(an attractive brunette with blue eyes wearing a combat vest is shown on the deck of an aircraft carrier; a group of fighters are being fuelled behind her. A couple of flight deck attendants in orange jumpsuits move by)
"Hello Hans. Everything is at a fever pitch aboard the ships in this carrier group. Reich forces are gathering and increasing, while the UN talks are bogged down in arguments about supposed use of weapons of mass destruction."
"Are the boys and girls out there eager for action?"
(Smiles and raises her thumb)
"You bet, Hans, but Admiral Lembke has stated that of course it is preferable that the Empress' will be done by whatever means necessary." (solemn expression at the mention of this)
(Pause as a Wachtmeister air superiority fighter is sent scorching off into the sky)
"Morale is high; prayers have been said, and all are ready to do their duty!"
"Good to hear, and all the prayers of those here at home go with them." (double screen switches to single, Hans smiling turns to the audience)
"We will be back after a commercial break."

North Star had never had a large fleet , but they made up for this via airsupport and larger infantry contributions to this grand fleet.
Joy of battle hummed through the Starian contingent.A sense of pride marked the men "cursed the tongue that says 'North Star' does not honor and love the reich"

ooc: so when do we attack O.O

OOC: Is Syskeyia still around?

OOC: I hope he is somewhere around. We need him!

Bendecitia

The boy hadn't felt this sick since the time he sneaked out a bottle of hard liquor from his fathers cellar and emptied it all himself to impress his friends.

His skin felt dry and unbearingly hot, and the sunlight that filtered down through the yellowish clouds made his head hurt. The harsh sound of jack-booted marching coming down the street didn't make it any better.

Ever since the invasion he and his friends had been running the streets, painting slogans on walls and sometimes throwing stones at the invaders if they had a fast escape route. The soldiers didn't take lightly to any signs of resistance.

But this time he wasn't out on that kind of business.

Across the street a thin girl with a blue shawl wrapped across her face waved at him. He hurried over to her.

-"Sister, what do you want! You should not be out on the streets. The soldiers ..."

-"I know, but ever since father threw you out, me and mother has been worried about you. Here, I've brought you a loaf of bread and some cheese."

The sight of the dark bread and the pale cheese should have made his mouth water but all he felt was a dull nausea. He coughed wetly.

-"Thank you. But you must get out of here now! This is no place for you” He hugged her and then gently pushed her away. He watched her hurry away along the streets when another cough made him double over, he saw her blue shawl disappear among the crowds through eyes watering by the effort.

And so it came. Ten of Syskeyia's best divisions, the I and XVI Corps, accompanied by [OOC: whatever units Chimaea wants to contribute to this :) ] left their positions around New Nicaea and sped through a substantial though incomplete underground railroad system towards the current Syskeyian military bases just behind the front lines.

None of this was known to Lance-corporal Ambrose Saihan, MP sentry of the 82nd Infantry Division (Mechanized), as he patrolled his shifts at Fort Vonvachit a small time after this happened. For him it was just TSVs going around as usual, though their number seemed to be a tiny bit larger.

The arrival of M110 howitzers (http://tanxheaven.com/m110a2/m110a2-068.jpg) he did take note of, however. While each division had its share of M155 assault guns, the 8-inch caliber artillery was available only on the level of Corps. Of course, the generals above him could have merely ordered the "eight-inchers" from another Corps, and in any case whatever it meant was far above anything of the MP's concern.

Little did Siahan know that, for the Reich occupation, it was the beginning of the end...

OOC: Any reply to my communication with the Syskeyian military command?

Off shore Bendecitia, Special transport "Noah"

The Big ship that was staying close to the Nephilim smiter was a mammoth of a ship. Vincent Poulin had been shipping cargo for nearly forty years but he never had been working with this type of goods before. There were nearly a hundred "Special" crew men around, trainers, geneticists etcetera and the Cacophony of sound that met him everytime he went below was deafening. He new that the special warfare unit had decided that this vessel and its cargo would prove perfect for its cause. Now they only waited for the right moment. Vincent couldn't imagine what the right moment would be, but surely they had a good idea for it.

To: Syskeyian Military Command
From: Field Marshal Andronicus Kantenouzous, Commanding the Tenth Imperial Expeditionary Force, Bandalore

Gentlemen,

The Tenth Imperial Expeditionary Force disembarked today at Bandalore, and stand ready to be deployed to assist your forces on the front. I stand-by to receive your requests and to aid you in the defence of your motherland.

With my complements,

Field Marshal Andronicus Kantenouzous,
Commander of the Infantry Legion of the Exarchate of New Jerusalem,
Commanding the Tenth Imperial Expeditionary Force,
Bandalore

To: Field Marshal Andronicus Kantenouzous, Commanding the Tenth Imperial Expeditionary Force, Bandalore
From: General of the Army Vincent Ferrer Chalermchai, Strategos Strategôn of the Syskeyian Armed Forces

The Republic is heartened by the news of your arrival in Syskeyia. We would request that your forces join the Syskeyian Army forces currently engaged in defensive maneuvers on the front line.

We shall hope to further communicate with your then.

God bless,

General of the Army Vincent Ferrer Chalermchai
Strategos Strategôn
Armed Forces of the Republic of Syskeyia

The Tenth Imperial Expeditionary Force moved out of Bandalore the next morning, the men and material piled into trucks and transports, which moved down Syskeyia's highways towards the front as quickly as possible. At the head of the column were the ex-Syskeyian M551A1 Sheridan tanks of the Imperial Equites Legion (with a small number of heavier Pantocratorian tanks scattered amongst their number). The vehicles had been given to Pantocratoria when its alliance with Syskeyia had first been signed, and it was fitting that they returned now to their country of origin to assist in her defence.

OOC: I'm assuming a few things. One of them is that Benedictia is farmland for a bit before hitting suburbs, then the City... this is from the North.

Northern Front

An entire Division of soldiers on the move was always an impressive sight to behold, whatever their nationality. The Chimaean Divisions in Syskeyia, barring one, was composed of around four Brigades which contained around 5, 000 soldiers each.

The entire Division was split losely around tactical entry points; whilst most of the points were by land, there were multiple points by air. The Airborne Regiments were already inserting into Benedictia through a hail of anti-aircraft fire which both the Syskeyian and Chimaean air forces were trying to pound out via missile strikes. Occassionally the evening was lit up with an odd pink-salmon coloured explosion that drifted out lazily in the horizon. The redder explosions of the closer bombing and artillery runs mingled with the hazy of distant flames.

Specialist Danso was worried. Crossing the border through Nukajarn [OOC: I can hardly read the names on your map, Sysk] had brought with it the familiar pall of dead smoke of war in the sky. He had seen this smoke before in Street Island, when Townsville was burning. He hoped Lewis was all right.

They were well into the Benedictia territory now, followed a rather battered and torn-up road towards the City. On either side of the convoy was a patchwork of farmland and the occassional house or farm building. Some of them were gutted by fire. A particularly grim moment came when they passed a house close to the roadside and saw the corpse of a little girl, body burnt with a can of petrol that lay nearby, limbs contorted in stiff agony or just through the action of the dead flames, clawing at the sky. The Chimaean soldiers watched soberly as two squads did a quick search of the house and buried the body, marking it with a plastic identifier.

The attack came sooner the Danso fully expected, testifying to the Veganan forces' tactics. They were passing by a house on the outskirts of a small village when the lead tank scored a direct hit from an rocket propelled grenade. Fortunately the grenade ricoheted of the sloping armour of the tank and exploded harmlessly on the road, throwing up dirt and tarmac in a cloud of smoke.

Danso and other gunners had been nervously eyeing the house and saw the tell-tale smoke trail from a basement window. The gunners all fired at the same time with their mounted machine guns, disintegrating the window and most of the wall around it in a hail of metal. Two of the tanks swivelled their main cannons in a steady arc and fired. The shells tore through into the wooden house and exploded. Danso had never been that close to tank fire and stared open-mouth as the house seemed to lift up into the air for a split-second, the walls and roof expanding before exploding in a shower of splinters and timber. Danso ducked automatically, even though his gun emplacement was armoured.

The RPG attack was the beginning of the war for Danso and the convoy he was in. Streams of machine gun fire errupted from the village as bazookas and LAWs fired at the convoy, which split to form a lose cordon around one side of the village, seeking as much cover as possible. Danso kept his finger on the trigger of the powerful .50 cal, providing suppression fire as well as he could as the squad jumped out of the APC and into the wet field, taking cover through the natural slopes of the tilled land.

Danso felt the slap on his thighs and slid down from the gunner's nest, letting one of the APC's crew of 2 take over. He grabbed his CR50 HFW and ducked out of the opened back of the APC, just in time to see a mobile APC score a hit with an RPG round. The APC exploded, the force lifting it up into the air and barelling it on its side. He didn't see any survivors.

Danso could already hear the noise of helicopters close by and he hoped they were friendly ones. He knew that Veganan helicopters would probably be en-route too, as well as air-strikes called in by either side. Artillery would already be unleashed. All of this he thought in the back of his mind while his body responded to the training and provided arc-fire to cover for his squad as they advanced towards the village.

It's on, he thought distantly, it's well on.

***

First Fleet, Gulf of Syskeyia

Admiral Wilder had arrived back from Syskeyiapolis and had been briefed on the attack by a harried-looking Vice Admiral Zoryn on board the Jindalee. She had done a quick inspection of the damage and attended the brief in-action services of the crew that was KIA. Her face was grim when she arrived back on the Jindalee. Zoryn, on the other hand, was already planning further attacks on the Veganan fleet and being briefed on the Wings already launched.

The First Fleet had picked up speed and was nearing the initial locations of the enemy fleet. The missile strikes were intensifying as the various Chimaean forces engaged heavily for the first time.

Admiral Wilder was worried about the bio-mines, though the subs were doing a good job at paving a path through them. She was also worried about the intelligence she was getting from the ground in Benedictia. Chimaean forces seemed to be encountering survivors from the City who were reporting missing children, some claiming that children had been specifically targetted for kidnapping by Veganan soldiers. While it wasn't a great priority amidst the action, it niggled at the Admiral's sense of right and wrong. She wondered if Vegana was going to use, and would get the time to use, a scorched earth policy if they had to pull out of Syskeyia.

She could all too easily imagine a small-scale genocide in Benedictia and this wasn't a prospect she relished.

It was while she was ruminating on this when the first alarm was raised. Zoryn was immediately everywhere as the reports of submarine activity came through. It was a stealthy and dangerous threat and the Fleet once more manouevered into defensive and offensive positions for the attack.

***

Under the grey-blue waters of the Gulf, the CSS Black Knight arrowed through the set course, coordinating with the other submarines in the fleet as they conducted the search and destroy on the bio-mines. It was a bit of a shock to suddenly detect the tell-tale signatures of the presense of enemy submarines operating nearby.

Captain St. John sat himself at one of the stations in the Bridge and gave out orders in a calm, almost casual voice which served to temper any panic amongst the crew. Torpedoes were armed and readied for launch and the submarine entered stealth mode as it warily searched for the enemy activity.

So when the first four enemy torpedoes were detected, it was both expected and unexpected. the torpedoes were targetting one of the heavy destroyers which immediately took what evasive action it could. The Black Knight, meanwhile, traced the course of the torpedoes and broke stealth, firing two back before speeding to the right and down, hoping to confuse the enemy about their position. Captain St. John guessed that whoever was in command of the enemy subs were doing exactly the same thing.

Already other subs in the fleet were engaging the enemy. Behind them, the surface vessels were in constant motion as the crew worked with the computers to stay combat-effective and afloat in waters that was suddenly lethal as torpedoes dug through them. Several took on damage as the enemy torpedoes struck home.

The anti-submarine aircraft and ships sprung into action, deploying countermeasures such as depth charges, noise decoys and mines against detected and estimated enemy craft. Helicopters flew overhead, providing a close sensor array for ships to base manouevers on.

***

Western Front

Brigadier Halstead looked up at the sky, which seemed clogged with aircraft as they flew on strike missions and delivered troops and equipment to the frontlines. Crossing the border to Benedictia through the West was never going to be an easy task and attacking from the West with a 50, 000 strong force was a major headache. It was going as well as could be hoped.

The chief problem was the Synora mountains which provided an effective natural blockade to get past. Fortunately, the bulk of Veganan forces seemed concentrated to the North instead of the West, though, which was a positive thing in the sea of negative that war was. The mountain passes and valleys were being used but slowly, as the Chimaean commanders were afraid of being squeezed into a narrow ambush. The way had to be recced by air and special forces and it was tough going. The Airborne troops were much more effective and had secured several small sites to land planes in, which has sped up the mobilisation process.

Resistance was light but seemed fairly experienced at using the mountainous terrain to their advantage and had to be rooted out by special forces and air-strikes. The chopper squadrons were having their moment of fame, providing much needed firepower and mobility to the firefights which would erupt. Halstead had decided to send nearly a Brigade of infantry to secure key mountain sites from which overwatch and better missile strikes could be performed. They had met a stiff resistance from guerilla elements of the Veganan forces, but local Syskeyian guides were proving to be useful in providing detailed knowledge of the terrain to aid mission planning.

The Brigadier once more looked at the sky as a line of attack helicopters took to the air, headed for the mountains. It was, she reflected, going to be a hell of a fight.

Northern Front

Then there was silence... an hour went by.. a small rock moved a little, almost unnoticable... There was movement again, more rocks fell from the rubble and a groan was heard. A hand slowly pushed out from the rubble and a man crawled out. Grazinger, of the third Penal Batallion, counted himself lucky sutviving that attack. What on earth was the thought of the people firing that first grenade!? If only they had waited a few more minutes the whole group of hostiles would have been in perfect range! Grazinger cursed the crew with the grenades, not knowing their names it was kind of a general curse, the curse fell flat and turned into a groan as he saw the bone pipe of his leg sticking out through his pants. He needed to get that splinted, he looked around for some loose timber and could find it everywhere. He dragged himself over to what had once been a wooden house, now it was just splinters and rocks.

Damn it! Bozer, the leading thug of their group had known that there were Chimaean forces coming this way. They had setup a great ambush, but when things had begun to go awry several of the guys had begun taking off into the woods, only to be shot in the backs by Chimaean forces and a vengeful Bozer. They had been an easy target for the skilled counter attack performed by the Chimaean soldiers. He swore as he saw the burned corpse of Hanukk, an accountant sentenced to the penal batallions for distributing forbidden collaterals, now only recognisable for his size and his huge beard, stuck to the burnt skull of the body.

He turned around to drag himself when he heard some noice behind him. He looked up and saw a group of six villagers, all looking at him calculating. He felt for his gun, but it was missing. He tried to speak to them, but remembered what he and his group had done to their families and friends the nights before. He started to scream as they closed in on him.

Bendecitia

Chief Tactician Papphammar swore over the charts. Where had they gotten all those heavy weapons from so quick?! They had no reports of movement of heavies from any other cities to the front. Suddenly they had only appeared there as if by magic! He swore over Nephilim tricks under his breath and marked some of the supply lines where they had seen infantry movement for artillery strikes. This would at least slow some of them down. He also had reports of skirmishes in the north between penal batallions and Chimaean contignents. He hoped for his northern army to be digged in firm enough when the enemy reached them.

He also had reports of enemy closing in from the west. Papphammar didn't have enough troops to secure both the north and the west so he had had his special units out to create a booby trap mine heaven. He would have to fight the western front from the air until the enemy got close enough for his troops to encounter them. He knew this was a weak point in his strategy and the enemy was obviously good enough to take advantage of it.

He looked down on his reports again. One thing that really worried him was this fever that seemed to spread among his troops as well as the civilians. He had reports of several cases close to town and it seemed really bad, even some of the shocktroops seemed to have gotten it. He decided to commission a few extra medical units to investigate this disease.l

Gulf of Syskeyia, Submarine group "Heretic Slayer"

They moved through the depth with stealth and cunning. He never liked the name heretic Slayer for a submarine group. He wanted something more like wolf-pack or something else referring to groups of people. But never the less the name had stuck and here they were HS1 through HS8 moving below the depth were blue existed and everything was green, moving in total darkness towards their objectives. They knew they had to move in this depth since their little jellyfish friends didn't reach this deep. Made for destroying ships the bio-mines never went below 15 meters, and they knew there were lots of them hovering closer to the surface above them like clusters of deadly grapes.

They were going totally silent, steering with the helps of their little friends on the sides of them. Giving them friendly bumps that scared the hell out of the crew. Once they armed the thing from the crazed geneticists at project "Noah" a bump like that would turn their vessel into a sinking skeleton and their crew into jelly like remains from the pressure at this depth.

Captain Gessam decided to take them up a little as they closed in on their target. He turned on the sonar for the first time in a while to make sure the other packs were close by. As soon as he got the first picture from the sonar all hell broke loose. Someone in another group had encountered the first enemy target and fired. The enemy seemed to have submarines in the area as well because in the same instant someone fired back two torpedoes missing the other group and hitting HS7. He felt the quiver in their vessel as he watched the shattered blip that a second ago had been HS7 go into the deep, crew and all.

-"We have to move, fire away the homing devices and arm the critters!" He screamed it into the radio, no longer caring about stealth. The small laser guided homing devices could be shot at almost 6 times the velocity of a torpedo and as soon as they hit their targets they would send out the signal that their trained critters would find irresistable, no matter what other anti-torpedo stuff that was dropped around them. Every group had four of the critters and the scientists had told them they carried enough power to sink a battle ship.

---

In the grey darkness she swam just beside her loved one. She enjoyed staying close and loved the treats her loved one gave her everytime she swam to the sound and pressed herself to the bulk where the sound was. She lovingly bumped into her loved one once more, feeling the hard cold surface of her loved one against her blubber. She didn't much mind the harness she wore, she had been wearing it for years now and the weight of it didn't effect her at all as she danced around in the depth with her brothers and sisters and her loved one.

---

Captain Gessam searched his screens for targets and finally found one, he also saw a cluster of jelly-fish mines too close to his sub for his liking, pressing the button and locking the target he saw a red button flash in the corner of his eye.

-"Who the Fuck has armed the critters!!!? You're supposed to wait until I shot the device!" He quickly fired the device seeing it go fo a target, the second before it struck target he heard what he feared the most, a friendly bump...

---

HS1 saw HS4, HS5 and HS6 disappear as if struck by lightning, the explosion was strenghtened by at least a dozen of the jelly fish mines exploding of the impact. What kind of deamon weapon do they use!? He continued to make evasive maneuvers as he fired again at the enemy ships, seeing some critters speed away from the groups towards the enemy lines. He went into the cold depth of a safe haven.


Offshore Bendecitia, Carrier Group "Nephilim Smiter"

Admiral Moran was sweating, they had just managed to fight back an attack and now they got reports of several vessels coming from the wrong direction, and all his subs were out hunting down the Chimaean fleet.

-"Can you give me a definite number?"

-"No sir, a number of echoes are enclosing from the shore side"

He gave it a seconds thought and then ordered an increased number of Depth Charges to be fired in that direction. He also commisioned two Hovercraft destroyers to investigate and eliminate the enemy. I want no more surprises now he thought as he heard the charges being launched towards the enemy craft.

Bendecitia

Watching the rubble as he walked over it sent cold shivers along his spine. Hauptsturmfuhrer Wan was supposed to be inspecting the site for signs of insurgents but all he had seen so far was rubble and dead bodies after the explosion. He knew he was supposed to find signs and he also knew that several evidences had to be placed for this to look solid. So far the only thing he could see evidence of was a high number of deaths from the explosion that had taken place early in the morning. He stepped on something soft and looked down, he hardly could take his eyes away from what once had been a childs arm, stuck to a living body, playing enjoying life in full. So here was one child that the special forces had missed He took a leap over it and continued his inspection. Maybe they could find a stash of weapons? They would blame the explosion on the rebels anyway He took a few more steps and then froze, staring in disbelief and raising the napkin to his mouth quickly walking towards his waiting car. This inspection was over.

Any boredom caused by the continuous repetition of tasks had been shattered when the had entered combat footing. Most Iesus ships were active with the combined fleet, but the ISSMirbach(SSN 199)was one of several submarines tasked with harashing the Chimaea fleet.
At 1pm the captain confirmed the sighting, it was "Action Stations!" The crew all went about the duties.....this was what the training was all about. Torpedoes were made ready and the submarine moved towards her target...with great care and stealth they prepared for action.
Her sister vessels , the Corpus Christi and the Saint Bartholomew carried out similar preparations.


To the men and women of the Iesus navy....Your task isnt a easy one...but I know you will, with bravery and honour, defend the cause of Christ
President Matthew Iesus

Hofburg, Lavenrunz

In the Chancery, Hans Schlabel watched the blowing snow in the darkening sky outside his window while the phone rang. He was directly phoning The Benevolent Jaar--insofar as it was possible. To whoever answered the phone, he quietly said, "Hello, this is Chancellor Schlabel of Lavenrunz..."

And so it began.

Ten fresh divisions, six mechanized and four armored, began the great Syskeyian offensive into Veganan-occupied territory. Their entry, at least to the Veganans, was not sudden, but subtle: the Corps' first action, a great artillery barrage, was not done separately but integrated from the regular artillery already barraging the fascist horde. The fire was savage, but accurate, as the artillery units' own Ultraports had given them much needed information on the enemy positions. Then, the great horde of tanks, troops, APCs and firepower known as the 1st Infantry, 2nd Infantry, 3rd Infantry, 1st Armored, 2nd Armored, 46th Infantry, 47th Infantry, 47th Infantry, 48th Infantry, 31st Armored, and 32nd Armored Divisions spearheaded its way into the Vegana-occipied province.

But that was not foremost on the mind of Flight Lieutenant Joseph Keacham.

As he flew his F-22AJ Wild Weasel jet over the Synora Mountains to the south of Bendecitia, he checked his weapons. All six Aressi were armed, and the AIM-9X Sidewinders were at the ready...

Vegana City

Hofburg, Lavenrunz

In the Chancery, Hans Schlabel watched the blowing snow in the darkening sky outside his window while the phone rang. He was directly phoning The Benevolent Jaar--insofar as it was possible. To whoever answered the phone, he quietly said, "Hello, this is Chancellor Schlabel of Lavenrunz..."

At first there was only silence on the other side. A few click and humming noices could be heard on the line as if it was scanned and searched. Then a cool low voice answered:

-"Herr Schlabel, this is Veganian Chief of Staff Hans Flygt. How may I help your excellency?"

South of Bendecitia

The Airstrip had been prepared for handling the less agile but faster and more powerful Imperator fighters. They were covered by the airplanes from the carriers but now they could make their own appearance in the theatre. Coming down from 20,000 feet they started to enter the program of locking their missiles on the enemy jets long before they even could see them with their own eyes. The fights of today was more like a computer game where they tried to get the little red blip into the triangle and then press the button that turned the red blip into a blue blip. Wing Commander Hanson sighed, the days of brave dogfights were over...

Schlabel cleared his throat, saying, "I would like once again to suggest that mediation might be possible here. The UN process doesn't seem to be going anywhere, with rash accusations going on against your country. We are both brave and proud nations, and we are both hoping for better relations. Surely there could be some kind of amicable solution found between Vegana and Syskeyia to mutual benefit. Otherwise we will be forced to support Syskeyia which actually IS our ally at the moment."

A sercretive transmission, sent in the dead of night;

To whom it may concern, Veganan Provincial Government of Syskeyia,

Greetings, I am writing to you to propose something of a business opportunity. In accordance with certain domestic policies by our great and powerful lord, Atum, I am writing to suggest a mutual exchange using a resource I am given to understand is plentiful in your province. We understand, from discussion in the United Nations, that your nation currently holds a large portion of the nation called Syskeyia.

Essentially, we are interested in starting what I believe is called a 'relocation and evacuation' programme, for Syskeyian troublemakers under your control. One of our outlying colonies, called Ega, to which I was assigned lordship, is suffering from a lack of genetic diversity. The productivity of the mines there, previously run by no less than ten thousand, has fallen due to critical labour shortage.

Now, obviously, we don't expect you to go to the trouble of helping us with this little quandary for nothing, and as such, I believe I can offer you a fair price per head needed to restore the numbers to ten thousand, from the current number of just under three thousand. In any case, it should be easy to contact me should you be interested in this little business opportunity, if not, then I apologise for wasting your time.

~ Lord Jehvah, Representative of the Great and Glorious Lord Atum to the United Nations.

Schlabel cleared his throat, saying, "I would like once again to suggest that mediation might be possible here. The UN process doesn't seem to be going anywhere, with rash accusations going on against your country. We are both brave and proud nations, and we are both hoping for better relations. Surely there could be some kind of amicable solution found between Vegana and Syskeyia to mutual benefit. Otherwise we will be forced to support Syskeyia which actually IS our ally at the moment."

-"Herr Schlabel, I am sure there might be a solution of mutual benefit. But as I am sure you are aware of we are under attack. Right at this moment. We are merely defending ourselves against Syskeyian, Chimaean and Pantocratorian aggression, and they fired first at St. Peter Clavers island.

Unfortunately , you are barking up the wrong tree here. It is Syskeyia you have to convince to come to the negotiation table, if they give up the terrorists we will withdraw at once."

-----


Telegram to Lord Atum

I am afraid you have mistaken us for cheap bloodthirsty slaver scum. It would not be wise to make that mistake. We are in Bendecitia to save the souls of the Syskeyians that still can be saved and fight the terrorism against our great nations. If any slavers would come close to either The Reich or Bendecitia they will ofcourse be hunted down, destroyed and their bodies cleansed in the holy fire. Good afternoon.

Admiral Moran, Veganian 5:th navy

"My dear Sir," said Chancellor Schlabel firmly, "I think you will find that more than a week ago Syskeyia's government expressed willingness to negotiate and for Lavenrunz to mediate. If this did take place, would it be possible to consider a cease fire?"

My friends in Christ Jesus....
The final victory is within our reach...at last the true cross of Christ will rule over Syskeyia and Chimaea. Oh Jesus you are the master of this victory...
Now here we stand...at the dawn of total victory, and now we hear that Syskeyia is talking of peace....asking to negotiate....
My friends...A great man once said to me "does a dog negotiate with his fleas?"...of course not! Did Christ negotiate with satan? who can honestly expect us to talk with the enemies of Christ!
The Reich is ready...war is upon us. We now are at total war...as commanded by christ, turning back now would be the worst form of treason.
As we are loyal to the Church's magisterium , we are loyal to this war for Christ.
HEIL 'Jaars crusade'!
HEIL Victory!

Matthew Iesus. 'No peace without Christ' Speech #1

OOC: Syskeyian battle stuff will be coming soon. Next week, at the latest. I've got some ideas but... I dunno, just haven't gotten around to writing yet. :)

Supreme Comrade Ivan Michaelovitch of Richtenbourg read the exhaustive report. War against Capitalism......this was just too big to keep to its rival, Sanditenbourg. The Communist movement in Richtosanditenlandt had been completely successful, splitting the nation into two: the Communist Richtenbourg in the north and the socialist democracy Sanditenbourg in the south.

Richtenbourg's economy was not in tatters; it had no longer any need for an economy. The fresh air of freedom from Capitalism that it had dreamed of for so long, and now it was over. He knew that there would be no end to the conflict, no peace to be given. He also knew that the only hope for the world lay in the prospect of war; that the Voice of the People could never be silenced. Reading the world review, he realised that his country was not to fail. Sanditenbourg was a petty war that must be resolved instantly. His best hope lay in the People's Navy. Richtenbourg picked up the telephone, with a single ruthless campaign in his heart. The People's Navy was not needed on a national border, it would sail the high seas and attack all Capitalism at its core.

A clear, charismatic voice chimed over the nation; on radios, televisions, and speakers all over the country. Comrade Supreme Commissar Ivan Michaelovitch, Voice of the People, had spoken. The Navy was mobilised.
Glory and empire for the People's person were now in sight. Eurusea had another ally.

The people in the streets roared their approval as the 42nd naval ship left the country. A deafening roar from the crowds "Michaelovitch! Michaelovitch!" The Supreme Commissar, sitting in his office, smiled his approval. All that he had been hoping to acheive with the masses had been done, and laughed at the bitter irony that in order to bring his nation to peace, he had just sent them to war.

"My dear Sir," said Chancellor Schlabel firmly, "I think you will find that more than a week ago Syskeyia's government expressed willingness to negotiate and for Lavenrunz to mediate. If this did take place, would it be possible to consider a cease fire?"

The voice on the other side sighed. -"The only mediation we can accept is to Syskeyia to give up all terrorists to Veganian Justice and a non-aggression agreement from them. You say that they offered a willingness to negotiate but so far we have only seen a willingness to kill Veganians and their Reich Brothers. I suggest you talk to Syskeyia and then get back to me with their answer. If they are interested in Peace so be it, we will consider a cease fire if they fulfill our demands."

Bendecitia

Commissar Harold Wang coughed again, he could see spots of blood on his napkin. Why did his head hurt so much? He tried to concentrate as he stepped up to the line of suspected insurgents. He coughed again as he turned to his men.

-"Kill every third of these men, with some luck we will at least sort some of the insurgents out!"

Bendecitia

Hauptmann Kagermann was sitting at the balcony, slowly sipping his brandy and puffing a fat corona cigar. He had been on duty for almost 36 hours and he was now enjoying the badly needed Rest and Recreation that he and his men had been granted over the weekend. He leaned back in his chair watching out over the city, this could be a sweet place to settle down if they managed to clean this place up. His brow wrinkled as he saw another pillar of smoke rising a few blocks away. It seemed the internal security forces were hounding the terrorists with fire now. He remembered when he had been a kid and him and his cousins scared out vermin from the sugar canes field by lighting fires and then watching it burn the soft crisp vegetation around the hard canes, spreading with the wind over the fields.

---

He was sitting on the floor, cramping in a cough, spreading red spittle around him. He felt as if he was burning up as sweat was pouring from him and he lay down on the floor settling in and slowly feeling himself getting cooler. After a few minutes he was starting to shiver and then he felt nothing...

The Lavenrunzian fleet made a great elliptical sweep in the general direction of Syskeyia, the carriers protected by flanking destroyers and frigates, the cruisers pointed like spearheads towards any possible enemy ships. Below, the submarine wolfpack prowled like their namesake, their sonar seeking the deadly array of sonarbuoys and mines.

Northern Front
When studying the tactics and doctrine of maneuver, Syskeyian soldiers are taught a certain lesson:

Don’t use roads unless absolutely necessary. Roads are known, they are obvious; take the roads and the enemy will know where you are going. Go cross-country whenever possible; you’ll have a greater chance of surprising them if you do.

This the commander of Lieutenant Paul Nochakim’s company had in mind as his APCs and other vehicles sped forward across an empty rice field, kicking up mud as they headed toward a tree line in front of a road.

From the inside of his MTVLS, the 1st Infantry Division platoon commander pondered the situation. He had just talked with the company commander about the situation. The enemy was here; the recon had found their positions and the mortar crews had been bombarding the lines for a while, ceasing only now. The young officer steeled himself for combat as he began to make out the enemy troop line.

A large blast shook the APC as an RPG hit jolted the lieutenant’s mind into combat. The Gavins responded to the intial barrage with 30mm autocannon fire, with the squads’ rocketmen firing their bazookas at the enemy from their vehicles and the Gavins’ own machine gunners helping suppress the Veganan foe.

“PLATOON- DISMOUNT!” Nochakim shouted over his unit’s comm. Almost at once the squads burst out of their vehicles, Nochakim and his HQ unit soon following. The infantry fight began. The grenadiers fired smoke grenades at the enemy lines and the Syskeyian soldiers activated their thermal sights. In the same moment, the squads’ sharpshooters took aim at those they perceived to be the enemy unit leaders, and dealt those leaders a cold shot of .233 Lapua Magnum,

Nochakim himself led from the front, but tried to find a position from where he could see the situation of the whole platoon. He and his platoon charged into the fray. From all over the company, he could hear gunfire, screams, charging and the sound of death. The chaos of war snared the lieutenant as well, as he gave orders to his squads while his unit was in engaged in a firefight with a Veganan infantry squad.

The lieutenant fired a rifle grenade at the Veganan squad fore fixing his bayonet and charging his unit at the enemy. Within two moments, cries of “We surrender! We surrender!” could be heard all over in the noticeable Veganan tongue.

Nochakim turned to see a bloodied Veganan soldier with his hands up, surrounded by three Syskeyian soldiers with their bayoneted rifles pointed toward him. The lieuntant noted the collar. Penal battalion, he thought.

His mind recalled the briefings he had been to regarding this. The Reich’s use of prisoners as soldiers was well known, he could still remember studying the Iesus Christi “para-prisoners” from the Channel Island conflict. That explained the (relative) ease of the fight, he mused, as well as the fact that they’re actually surrendering.

Still, the Reich was known for its military unscrupulosity, and his mind flashed back to the Japanese soldiers in World War II, who feigned surrender only to kill their captors in the back.

Nochakim took out his M1911. He unloaded the clip, put in a new one (identifiable by the while stripe across its vertical center) and shot the Veganan right between the eyes.

He’ll be awake in a few hours, the officer thought.

Sola Gratia: The True Story of Recon 1 (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=393859)

Trying to tie off a lose thread.

Will post more war stuff soon.

Bendecitia, Veganian HQ

Chief Tactician Papphammar smiled at the news. They had finally made contact with the enemy! It seemed as they could pinpoint a location where actual battle between penal Batallions and enemies were taking place. He gave the orders of the barrage without hesitation, the losses would be... well acceptable, and it was only dog soldiers. They were here to do the dying.

-"I want a box built with the barrages, He barked into the microphone and then I want sector three and six making a curtain of artillery fire and moving it in cross formation within the box until we get no trace of vehicles or men anymore!"

He looked at the map. They had traces of movement in several other places but it was hard to pinpoint any other infantry units. He still hoped the heat from the engines of any vehicles would reveal where any other groups were coming. This battle was going to be won in the air, as long as the enemy sent their troops to their deaths by land or sea he had no problems, no problems at all, but he was aware of their shortage of fighters. He silently cursed the political leaders for not granting him more carrier groups, but obviously they had more important things on their mind, whatever that could be...

---------------------------------------------
Meanwhile in the Knootian Staten-Generaal
---------------------------------------------

Fifteen Knootian MPs were leading the cause for Knootoss to be engaged in the Defence of Syskeyia, and after much delay the scheduled debate took place in the Knootian parliament. It started with an impassioned plea by an RCPK backbencher:

“Lady nos Círdan once spoke brave words of how the new Knootian army stands before the gate of the Free World. These were brave words, when facing the Rumbiak Brigade. But is this House equally brave when facing the military might of the Reich?" He paused for effect. "Syskeyian failure should not become an example of the tragic impotency of the free world. If the sacrifices and resolute warfare of our Chimaean and Lavenrunzan allies proves to be in vain and if the heroic Syskeyian people are martyred on the flaming altar of Justice and only the soul of heroism remains. Then we should take up the burden of the free world and fight on and on, making the world's cause our cause. Liberty has called on us to act - will Knootoss answer?”

Lousewies van der Laan, leading the Social Liberal Party, stood up and spoke forcefully with the confidence of the vast majority of parliament being behind her: “the fifteen would do nothing but sacrifice our of neutrality without due reason. There has been no request for aid from the Syskeyians nor have there been such requests from our allies. Our allies understand that our position is not one to fight any war that can be fought when we are already embroiled in a few other noble causes. We should not bring death to our own people to fight on behalf of those who did not even ask for our aid.

I am not suggesting that we do nothing. I am suggesting that we go about this in a smart way. We can call again upon the fighting parties to agree to a cease-fire and attend International Mediation Council negotiations. We can lend materials to our Chimaean allies and relief pressure on their forces in Colombia. Lastly, our current neutrality does not disallow volunteers from aiding the Syskeyian cause. I have asked the ministry of Foreign Affairs and Defence if they would be prepared to support all of these endeavours with all due haste.”

Everyone naturally turned to a replacement of Hans van Mierlo standing in the government bench: “I can answer these requests by the Staten positively. With the Battlegroup Reform process underway we have large numbers of ships that still need to be sold. We have fifty obsolete destroyers, fourteen cruisers and six battleships that lie idly in Den Helder harbour waiting for a buyer. We have about a hundred Eurofighters of a previous type that have been replaced by purple wing models. I have offered to lend them to Chimaea free of charge, in the interest of our alliance. If they should wish for more we will most certainly provide.

I agree with ms. Van der Laans interpretation that volunteers may leave Knootoss on their own accord, but it should be understood that the Knootian Defence Force in no way supports operations against the Reich. Our neutrality is sacrosanct.” This historical irony provoked some hilarity amongst senior Defence Committee members, but the replacement of the minister continued without taking notice: “It is also still the Knootian position that the fighting parties should agree to a cease-fire to negotiate about any differences they may have. I will reiterate the ministries call for this tonight.”

OOC: Consider the offer to Chimaea to be made by letter, as well as another public statement reiterating the call for a cease-fire. The volunteers depend on Sysks willingness to accept them.

To Prime Minister Philip Achefield

As you doubtless know, it Her Majesty's desire that the Empire support Syskeyia in its hour of need. However, we are hoping that you might be willing to do the following:
1. Have your government consider supporting us in asking for an armistice.
2. Connect with the Imperial General staff so that our forces will be on the same page with regard to a mutual grand strategy.
3. Give us a means to contact your forces in the field via a secure code link.

During the Ienotheisan War, one of the difficulties we all faced was not having a mutual grand strategy at first, and then being forced to create one in an impromptu manner. We would rather, if we must enter in a purely military sense, fit in with what is already going on.

with respect
Chancellor Hans Schlabel

.

The Pantocratorian expeditionary force had finally reached the front... or at least, some of it had. On hearing that the Syskeyians had made contact with the enemy, the Duke of Montmanuel had broken away from the main column with his Imperial Equites Legion and made for the action, which enraged Field Marshal Kantenouzous. Unfortunately for the enthusiastic aristocrat, the Imperial Equites Legion arrived after the Syskeyians had already finished the job.

The Duke's car weaved through the men of the Syskeyian First Infantry Division. Despite the threat of snipers the Duke kept his flamboyantly red-plumed golden helmet on, although he was otherwise dressed in fatigues. His driver pulled the car over and started to ask for directions from a Syskeyian trooper.

"Pantocratorian Imperial Equites Legion. Where's your commander?" he asked in broken English. The Duke glanced at his driver briefly, although he didn't condescend to look at the trooper.

"J'espère que son commandant parle français! Je ne veux pas pour parler cette langue laide. Anglais!" he scoffed with some disdain.

TO: Government of Knootoss
FROM: General de Santuro, Commander in Chief

Most cordial greetings to our allies,

I must thank you for your contribution of resources to the war raging in Syskeyia. Every little helps and our military factories are currently saturated with orders in response to the growing Reich threat.

The Eurofighters in particular are greatly needed on the Benedictian front--it is air superiority which will allow our ground forces to gain access to Benedictia. The Veganan forces are dug in pretty deep.

Again, thank you for your contribution. In these dark times it is good to know our Allies are behind us.

Warmest regards,
General de Santuro

***

To Chancellor Hans Schlabel

Chimaea will gladly support Lavenrunz in asking for an armistice--particularly as we have grave concerns about the humanitarian situation on the ground in Benedictia. We would be willing to enter into negotiations, too, but Chimaean policy does not allow for a Reich presense within Syskeyia--something Vegana will probably insist on.

We will liase with the Imperial General Staff; I shall give instructions to that effect as soon as possible. We invite Lavenrunz to also partake in Allied planning in Syskeyiapolis.

At the moment, all field communications on the ground in Benedictia is handled via three routes--the first being from the Syskeyian communications networks already in place (CAF-31 to access the Chimaean communications, codes will be attached); through the First Fleet (CAF-32) and through an emergency backup link via the Baron Defence Grid (CAF-33), parts of which is currently over Syskeyia for this purpose.

The strategy at the moment is an assault in strength from the West--this is fairly unprotected due to the natural protection of the Synora mountain range. We've had a hell of a time getting our forces through the mountain passes, it's like asking to be ambushed, but we've captured several key sites from which to attack. We've established an airbase close to the mountain range and we're attempting to wear out their defences through air superiority.

The Syskeyians, along with a large Chimaean force, will be attacking from the North--this is where the fiercest resistance is and we'll be trying to 'net' the Veganan forces from moving forward. The First Fleet will strike through the East and possibly make landings with a small force. The objective is to push Vegana out instead of a pincer strategy--though we shall attempt to cripple their fleet as much as possible.

Our Intelligence teams are also working on finding a moderate field commander in the Veganan ground forces to negotiate with once progress has been made on all three fronts. If we can talk to someone who isn't with the extremists then there's a possibility we can find a less damaging outcome... for I fear greatly for the Syskeyian people trapped in Benedictia.

More details will be provided in a full briefing... we look forward to having our historical Allies join us in this endeavour.

Warmest regards,
Prime Minister Phillip Achefield.

As the Lavenrunzian fleet began its approach on the southwestern Syskeyian sea, a squadron was formed of the stubby little minesweeping ships, protected under the missile racks of cruisers and almost entirely silent Seewulf SSNs, which began to move forward. On each ship, just in case something needed close up dealings, underwater demolition teams were doing final checks on their diving equipment.

In the sky, Norn electronic warfare aircraft were soaring; their task was to send coordination signals to the air fleet and also to lash out a confusing barrage of signals to all radar reception that they were facing.

From each of the ten carriers, Wachtmeister, Viking, and Feuerkatz fighters were streaking off the decks, howling into the air, till nearly five hundred of the war planes were flying low or high in small formations, ready to lock missiles on targets.

Admiral Tachteberg's orders had been explicit: avoid the mines, and engage at a distance till they are dealt with. Use long range missiles from both the cruisers and destroyers and the fighter planes to deal with the enemy forces, and engage the moment contact is established.
He had planned a rather heroic speech but was irritated to find that he was advised not to by Admiral Hereward, who pointed out that it would just increase the number of signals and possibly get picked up as it would be over an open channel.

Meanwhile, a quiet announcement was made from Lavenrunz.


Beloved subjects.
In the course of Our attempts at diplomacy with regard to Syskeyia, We have found that force must be used to prevent further Reich forces landing in the area, which would make negotiation more difficult. The old enemy seems not to change, and seems to always want war and to avoid responsibility to the international community.
Syskeyia is Our ally of old and we will not forsake her nor her people while they are in peril. While breath is in Our body We will not be remiss in standing by Our friends.

As the Empress signed off, the national anthem playing over radio and television in Lavenrunz, the fleet was moving into action.

"Mother of a--"

The SC-42 dived sharply; so sharply that Suqadron Leader McGuiness only saw the flash of silver-grey from the tail of the aircraft. He cursed and looked down as best he could; the pilot of the SC-42 was doing something that was technically against the rules of keeping in one piece. Mind you the heat seeker up his ass would have help decide matters.

"AC7 Delta, are you ok?"

"No! This fucker's locked on to me, I can't shake it lose. Deploying chaff--"

McGuiness' AirHawk was buffetted suddenly and the comms went dead. He swore and shouted, "AC7 Delta! Delta, do you read?"

Static. McGuiness swore again as another plane reported eyes on the loss. Delta was flown by Mark Sampson, father of three... didn't he come from around Hope? Jesus fucking--

The radar beeped a warning as it picked up the first enemy fighters and the surviving AC7 regrouped. There were only four left in the group; one had been caught by a ship-launched missile and had to dtich into the ocean. At least the pilot had time to eject.

McGuiness glanced around as the other groups took positions, the air-ground planes a bit behind. He shook his head and concentrated on getting a good lock.

"AC7, fire at will."

The missiles shot off from the belly of the aircraft, streaking into the distance in a blaze of fire and smoke. McGuiness pulled up and out of the firing arc and armed all four sidewinders just in case. Then he radioed to his wingman, as well as Delta's surviving wingman, then engaged his afterburners. Even through the pressure-suit he felt the thrust of the plane as he banked steeply towards the incoming fighters.

For a second his vision went grey, and he eased off the utnr until his vision returned to normal. At such high speeds it was dangerous to make a turn too fast, but he was attempting to outflank--

Holy crap! The bastards were doing a flanking manouever themselves! McGuiness felt cheated for a moment, before quickly firing two sidewinders at one of the enemy planes. One missed but the other slammed into the wing of the plane, bursting in a fireball of fuel before the plane hurtled to the sea below.

"Warning: missile lock."

McGuiness uttered something that his dear mother would not have approved of, and dived at an angle. It was a dangerous trick but the SC-42's shape made it possible for a limitted time. He released chaff behind him as he dived, then levelled off.

The missile light blinked off. The chaff had done its work. McGuiness was about to pick up speed when he felt his plane judder violently. He fought the joystick and managed to level off; the stick now wasn't replying as well as it should. He asked for a fly-over from his wingman as another plane exploded above him; he wasn't sure whether it was Chimaean or Veganan.

"Looks like you copped some canon fire, Al. What's the damage?"

Mcguiness was already reading the damage report on one of the screens. "I've lost about ten percent of control in the main rudder... I think I'm good to go, though."

"Roger that. Try to get a lock on those bastards to our 3 o'clock."

McGuiness banked right and watched as the triangle of effective fire slowly let the red dots into its area. He fired one of his Clocker missiles and watched it streak away, already making minute ajustments in its flight path as the satellite gave it coordinate corrections. His wingman had already fired and both planes banked to the left and down.

The plane juddered again, this time even more violently.

"Alpha, you got smoke out of the--"

The joystick went dead in McGuiness' hands. He stared in disbelief, then suddenly the SC-42 was dropping--a heavy metal coffin barrelling out of the sky.

McGuiness didn't wait. He flicked the ready switch and with a sort of deathly calm, activated the ejection leaver. The canaopy of the aircraft blew out and into the air and suddenly he was free-falling. He reached around to the cord on his side and pulled.

Nothing happened.

He pulled again, then tried the backup chute. To his relief, the chute caught and he was jerked up as his free-fall lessened.

For the first time he looked around. He had an eagle's view of the battle and suddenly felt very small. He saw the two Chimaean planes harrying a Veganan fighter until the fighter exploded. He saw a Chimaean plane getting blasted out of the sky by canon fire. He breathed through the oxygen pack on his helmet, as the sky filled with the scream of jets and the thunderous sound of dogfights.

And then he hit the water and struggled away from the chute. He released the safety catch on his heavy flight gear and watched the tubes and metal devices that had kept him safe in the cockpit sink into the depths of the Gulf. As he tread water in his pressure suit, he hopes to heaven he wouldn't get picked up by a Veganan ship. That would be the crowning glory in a bloody awful day.

The Pantocratorian expeditionary force had finally reached the front... or at least, some of it had. On hearing that the Syskeyians had made contact with the enemy, the Duke of Montmanuel had broken away from the main column with his Imperial Equites Legion and made for the action, which enraged Field Marshal Kantenouzous. Unfortunately for the enthusiastic aristocrat, the Imperial Equites Legion arrived after the Syskeyians had already finished the job.

The Duke's car weaved through the men of the Syskeyian First Infantry Division. Despite the threat of snipers the Duke kept his flamboyantly red-plumed golden helmet on, although he was otherwise dressed in fatigues. His driver pulled the car over and started to ask for directions from a Syskeyian trooper.

"Pantocratorian Imperial Equites Legion. Where's your commander?" he asked in broken English. The Duke glanced at his driver briefly, although he didn't condescend to look at the trooper.

"Well, [Major] General Kwokwing likes to travel around a lot," replied the Syskeyian soldier, trying to make eye contact with the general, "You'll find his forward command post near one of the forward battalion or brigade positions."
He pointed in the direction. "I think he's with the 1st Armored Brigade right now."

"J'espère que son commandant parle français! Je ne veux pas pour parler cette langue laide. Anglais!" he scoffed with some disdain.

"Et quam est magnum ad hanc linguam notham?" the Syskeyian scoffed back as the general's car sped away.

"Yes, I confirm that the Duc de Montmanuel was not given orders to break away from the column!" Field Marshal Kantenouzous snapped into his phone in his mobile command centre.

"Field Marshal, you will move to catch up with the Imperial Equites Legion." Mater replied in her usual cool tone.

"Catch up with them?" the Field Marshal exclaimed, surprised. "I want that bloody idiot told to return to formation and disciplined!"

"These are the orders of the Imperial High Command. God Save the Emperor."

"...God Save the Emperor." replied the Field Marshal, sighing.

***

The Duke of Montmanuel's jeep caught up with the First Armoured Brigade and made its way to the command post. The Duke dismounted and made his way inside, accompanied by his driver/aide. He saluted the various officers.

"General Kwokwing?" he asked, finding the person in the most senior looking uniform. "I am the Duke of Montmanuel, commanding the Pantocratorian Imperial Equites Legion. Parlez-vous français?"

Lieutenant General Kartallozi looked up casually at the officer in the strange hat, then stared at the man with a puzzled frown. As the Chimaean liason to General Kwokwing, he'd been on the phone with Brigadier Halstead, who was in a helicopter flying to the Northern Front, trying to coordinate between the two forces.

He wondered where the man had gotten his hat from, then was astonished to hear him introduce himself as the commander of the Pantocratorian Legion. The man didn't look like most of the officers he'd encountered--imposing, hard-bitten men with rough voices and a look to wilt steel.

He spoke up when the Duke asked if anyone knew French, replying, "Yes, I know a bit of French. Where are your forces located at the moment, sir?"

The Duke looked Kartallozi over for a moment. He looked Chimaean, a Lieutenant General judging by the uniform. More importantly he was speaking French.

"A pleasure, Monsieur." Montmanuel said in French. "My forces have reached the front. Most of them are now with elements of the Syskeyian First Infantry Division, I believe. Is that right, Perlioz?"

"Yes, Your Grace." replied the Duke's driver.

"And your name, Monsieur?" the Duke asked the Chimaean.

Kartallozi smiled. "I'm Lieutenant General Marcus Kartallozi, Chimaean liason to General Kwokwing."

He made a note on his computer terminal rapidly about the Legion's position, then stood up and walked over to the Duke.

"I was informed that Field Marshal Kantenouzous is also heading this way with other Pantocratorian forces. We are preparing for a renewed assault on enemy positions as soon as our recon operations have given us the details. They're well dug in." he turned to a glass wall screen which glowed with a digital map. nemy positions were marked in red and friendly forces were marked in green. "In this part of the Front, the Veganan forces have dug in firmly. We're pounding their positions with as much ordinance as we can get to soften them up... but they're desperate, and well-protected with the terrain. It's the troops on the ground that're going to have to uproot them."

He looked at the Duke. "What condition are your troops in?"

"Oh yes, they're good, thankyou for asking." the Duke replied about the condition of his troops. "I wouldn't expect the rest of the Pantocratorian Expeditionary Force to be here before dusk. We heard that there was fighting going on and thought we'd get a move on, see if we couldn't lend a hand. Unfortunately you already dispatched those bastard Turk Veganans."

Montmanuel looked a little disappointed. He looked at the map.

"Hmmm..." he said thoughtfully. "You don't want to wait for the infantry do you? Are you sure we couldn't dispatch their boys with tanks?"

The Duke bit his lip nervously. He hadn't driven all the way to the front just to have to wait for Kantenouzous and the infantry. He was looking forward to leading the tanks of the Imperial Equites Legion into the Veganan lines. In his head the Te Deums for his impending victory were already being sung in New Rome.

OOC: I hate all that red, which I take it is indicating you are speaking French.

OOC: Yeah it's getting annoying. I'll just signify a language change by words instead of colours. By the way, where do you want to take the Duke's story?

-----------

Kartallozi looked curiously at the Duke, wondering what his story was. He sounded eager to go into battle... Well of course soldiers were keen and alert for battle, but this was something else. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and considered the proposition. Launching a major attack right at that moment was possible, though there was still a lot to be organised. However... there were several small villages, outlying suburbs and towns (well, centres of population anyway) that had to be taken care of before the Veganan forces managed to dig themselves in deeper.

He had mentioned that to General Kwokwing, who had displayed a slight interest but seemed to prefer a large-scale attack later on. However, the General would hardly refuse a request for a few regiments to back up the Chimaean brigade... with the Duke's forces they could keep the enemy on their toes and off-balance when the attack came.

"Well," he said slowly, rubbing his chin, "It might be advisable to attack with a relatively small force first to capture several key population centres. It's open the way for the large scale attack..." thoughtfully he explained the plan to the Duke, pointing out the various places in the map.

Visions of glory flashed before his eyes as Montmanuel listened to and watched the General's briefing.

"How big are these population centres?" he asked. "How many people?"

They had to be big enough to be worthwhile, after all. Nobody would remember the liberation of a hamlet, but the name of the man who liberated a city might live forever.

"I think there is a lot to be said for attacking as soon as possible." said Montmanuel. "Before they've had a chance to react properly to their defeat here, before they've dug-in, before they've even begun to think of striking back. We'll roll on in, knock them out before they're even ready. Think of how many lives we might save, liberating these places, and saving our infantry a tough fight in the process."

Tosteauveaux, Empire of Eauz

The Burungi refugee camp was beginning to wake up. This had been a temporary encampment at first, meant to last only a short time, as refugees fled the invasion of Tanah Burung into the country's western neighbour. But days stretched into months of war at home, and the numbers grew.

In the cold mountain dawn, hosts of men were marching, trying to stay in their crude formation. Other men in the vestments of priests walked among them, swinging censers full of incense and urging them on. A few sprinkled the marchers with holy water.

They were the laskar romo, the Catholic militia, and they were useless in their own country's struggle. They would never be able to get safely across the mountains into Tanah Burung, not with the rail tunnels closed. But there were other wars, where the cause was righteous.

Column by column, they filed into the electric trains taking them to the sea, boarded makeshits rafts, and sailed away from the coast of the Emerald Heights, looking for sturdier vessels.

General Zacowe and his men felt the full force of the assualt. Zacowe had beg for his troops to be given front line honors, against the 'infidal armies'. The Starian forces would hold their sector to the death, they would honor the glorius jaar by taking blood for blood.
They had prepared themelsves, dug in and offered prayers, and now the storm was upon them. Shells burst all around them, many were cut into pieces by the lethal bombardmen but still the pilgrim soldiers erupted in chants praising Islam and denouncing Syskeyia. "Allah is Merciful!" and "hussein honor!" were screamed even as men died.
Their own light artillery returned fire, and their limited heavy options prepared for any armor thrust.
The General moved among his forces, clapping men on the back as they fired , chanting with them and reminding them of the glory they were winning.
The situation , the General knew was hopeless. for whatever reason 'command' had decided not to wage a war here. Still he planned on doing his duty to the end, maybe allowing veganians to leave and live.

"This... formation here..." Montmanuel said as he glanced over the map again. "North Star? The Reich Mahommedans?"

Now, a man's name might be remembered for a lot of things, but what better than for fighting Turks and their co-religionists? The formation looked embattled too, weakened, as if it was making a desperate last stand. The Te Deums would be sung for weeks after such a victory!

"I think a decisive blow here is the place to start. This is where the enemy is at his weakest!" the Duke urged, irrespective of whether there were better targets or not. He looked forward to a return to Pantocratoria as a conquering hero, and started thinking of creative titles for himself.

"My men can be ready as soon as necessary!"