NationStates Jolt Archive

Lieutenant General Kartallozi gave the Duke an uneasy look. "The populations centers aren't that big but there are a fair few of them," he replied to the Duke's question. "And certainly a quick attack to soften their forces is a good idea."

He looked at the formations the Duke was pointing to. "I believe that's North Star. Erm... Well we can certainly deal with them, but our artillery and bombing is taking them to pieces anyway." He gave the man a baffled look. "We can certainly try to ease of the bombardment a little and strike them with ground forces instead. Although it's unlikely they'd surrender, if that's what you're thinking."

He straightened up. Well they had to react, and react fast. "All right, sir, we'll mop up the resistance in that quarter before making a few strikes into the villages and towns here," he indicated a map reference, "Then we'll rejoin the main assault. I have a brigade of Chimaean troops--we'll take three regiments of mobile infantry and the General will give us a further two regiments, I'm sure. Our troop strength will be about 3, 500. We will be counting on your forces to provide tank and heavy armour for the operation."

He reached out and grabbed his jungle-camo helmet, then looked at the Duke's own head regalia. "Sir, I strongly suggest less conspicious head gear," he said in what he hoped was conciliatory tones, "The snipers love wasting an officer as we get near the front lines."

He gestured towards the door. "I have a smaller command unit waiting, we can travel in that. After you, sir..."

"What bloody rot!" Montmanuel scoffed about the notion of wearing a somewhat less absurd helmet. "I'm not scared of those Turk beggars! My boys need to be able to see me, know that I'm right there in the thick of it with them! Besides, whoever heard of a Turk smart enough to shoot straight?"

Montmanuel pulled his helmet's chinstrap tight.

"Add in two thousand tanks crewed by the finest tank crews in the Imperial Defence Legions to your estimates, General." Montmanuel said as he got ready to leave. "And you needn't worry about your mobile command unit thingymabob, I'll be right up in the thick of it myself in my command tank. Look for the one at the front of the column. I'll stay in touch via radio!"

Montmanuel saluted the officers again, and headed out back to his jeep with his driver.

"Get me back to my boys, Perlioz, and step on it." he barked.

"Yes, Your Grace." the driver replied, starting the jeep, slamming it into gear, and racing off at break-neck speed.

Kartallozi frowned after him worriedly. The commander didn't make much sense. Two thousand tanks were two thousand tanks, however... He gave General Kwokwing a report, put on his combat gear and walked through the rutted and muddy earth to the Chimaean command unit, a slightly bigger than usual APC. Before he climbed inside, he looked at the Pantocratorian forces. The tanks looked a bit out of date but seemed powerful enough. He could see the Duke's jeep heading for one of them and guessed it was the command tank.

He pointed it out to one of his aides. "Mark that tank, give it a designation. I don't want that thing blowing up on any account. Not even if its on the front lines, understand?"

The aide nodded and hurried away. With any luck the satellite tracking would do the rest. Kartallozi climbed into the command unit and studied the Chimaean forces available. There was one Chimaean tank group, six tanks, and he decided to leave four of them for the main assault. Two he picked out and assigned to protect the Duke's command tank as inconspicuously as possible. There was no way he was willing to let a force of two thousand tanks suddenly become leaderless.

The comms network finally came online, the Pantocratorian forces having integrated into the main battlenet. As the long columns of armour began to move out of position along the broken road, Kartallozi hoped that they'd all make it out of this battle alive...

The Duke of Montmanuel climbed inside his command tank and flicked on his radio. The red plumes of his helmet brushed up against the roof of the tank, but it didn't seem to bother the Duke.

"Brave men of the Imperial Equites Legion!" he began. "We're finally going to see a bit of action! Ahead of us are the enemy, foul and wretched, they have come here to ravage the countryside, rape good Christian women, murder Christian children. The forces of the Reich are arrayed against us, and sit behind their laughable defences, trembling with fear, because they know you men are here to put an end to their marauding!"

"You men are the best the Empire has to offer, remember that. Against you, such fine specimens of Roman manhood, the Reich has arrayed not men, not human beings, but monstrous Turks! Inhuman beasts from the Sultanate of North Star! They will offer no surrender, and nor are they worthy of your mercy!" Montmanuel continued. "In the memory of Constantinople let us dispatch them! For the good Christian people of Syskeyia let's send them back to hell where they belong! Your victory and your hour of glory are at hand; with such comrades alongside you, who can stand against you? Vivé l'Empereur! Mont joie Manuelville!"

As he heard the cheers of his men echo through his tank through the radio, he smiled and nodded, and switched it off. He then climbed up into the turret, whose hatch he opened, and pulled himself halfway out so that his men could see him. He raised his arm in the air in a clenched fist, before turning and motioning in the direction of the enemy. The tanks of the Imperial Equites Legion rolled forward, and Montmanuel climbed back inside. He patted his gunner on the back as he scampered behind him into the command compartment, which was covered in maps. He pulled his helmet off, at last finding it too cumbersome, and switched the screen of his ruggardised command computer on. The Imperial High Command was combining all the intelligence from the field and reports from individual tanks into one virtual picture of the battlefield, and transmitting it back to the Duke's computer.

"This Mater girl really knows her stuff!" Montmanuel said to himself, referring to the supercomputer which handled the military's command and control dispatches.

Kartallozi listened to the Duke's speech in growing apprehension. The man sounded like he was taking notes from Gladiator or something.

"...With such comrades alongside you, who can stand against you?"

Kartallozi turned to his aide and muttered, "A bullet in the helmet would just about do it."

The aide smiled, busily coordinating the Chimaean forces around the Pantocratorian ones. "We're getting some feedback from the AWACS, sir. The North Star forces are dug in roughly... 12 k's from here. When we get within 5 k's we'll lessen the barrage."

Kartallozi nodded. "Make damn sure that they do lessen the barrage. The last thing I want is a Chimaean shell landing on me. And send out the recon units ahead of us when we do call the barrage off--ahead of Pantocratoria's tanks, too. The Duke may think he's the next best thing since Henry the Fifth, but I'd rather know in advance what's out there. What's the place called?"

"Where North Star is dug in? it's a fairly large village with some industrial sections, mostly for repair of farming equipment. Fields on two sides, stock on the other."

"Civilians?"

"About two thousand people, sir. Most of them left when the war hit, probably in refugee camps on the Nukajam border."

Kartallozi cursed. "I suppose it's expecting too much for them to be alive at this time?"

"They probably are sir, but how many is impossible to tell. North Star's forces may have wiped them out."

"All right. Well not much we can do about it. Inform the others to check their fire in any case, but in this situation I doubt it'd be effective."

"Yes sir."

Kartallozi tapped his finger on the screen, lost in thought.

The Imperial Equites Legion drove hard towards the North Star position. Montmanuel poured over his screen and maps. He had already decided that virtually any approach would result in glorious victory, but was picking the one which he thought the better of a good bunch. He had decided that the best approach was through the fields - ideal tank terrain. He was also aware that even the Turks - of course they weren't Turks, but that's what Montmanuel thought of them as - must have realised that.

Instead, Montmanuel had decided to order two hundred attacks to feint an attack on one of the fields, and to hold back the rest of the legion until the enemy had committed to that front. He would then strike the town from either the other set of empty fields, or through the livestock, whichever saw best - and he planned to be at the front line of that attack.

He had even decided to condescend to letting Kartallozi know about his cunning plan.

"General Kartallozi, this is le Duc de Montmanuel." he said into the radio. "I'm going to feint for one of their open fields with a contigent of my tanks. When they're committed, I'm going to strike from one of the other directions. I think your boys should follow my main strike in, and occupy the industrial sectors of the town. Questions?"

Kartallozi rubbed the back of his neck wearily. "Sir, there are civilians in the village. Blasting indiscriminately would be against conventions... Allow me to send in spotter teams a guide your fire. I advice you to hold back until we have a strong infantry presence around the village to lay down suppressing fire so that your tanks may get closer and take their time targetting."

He considered the Duke's plan more thoroughly. It did have some good tactical elements. "After your tanks are in position we'll occupy as much of the indusstrial sections as possible. It's a good plan, sir, but don't underestimate the enemy--they're desperate enough to try anything."

That glory hog wanted to get to the town first! Montmanuel scowled and looked over his map.

"I'm hardly going to start blasting indiscriminately, General!" he insisted. "My feint will go ahead, but won't enter the town. It will draw the Turk into the fields, or at least, give him the time to pull anti-tank equipment back from other fronts and redeploy them against the feint. If they're in the fields, we'll engage them. If they stay cowering behind their shelters... then we'll wait for your spotters. But I can assure you, General, that I have no intention of killing any of the people I've come here to liberate!"

Montmanuel rubbed his chin. It occured to him that the tanks in the feint were going to take heavy casualties. Maybe it was better to let the foreigners go in first, flush out the anti-tank crews, and take some time picking targets.

"In fact, we'll do it further out, more away from the town... we might succeed in drawing less of them out but we should still confuse the wretches." Montmanuel said. "Alright General, we'll play the game your way. You get your boys in there quick smart though, I'll not be kept waiting around forever. Then we'll pick our targets and hit them hard and fast. Precision, as well as speed."

He'd never thought of that...

Farther behind the main carrier group assault, the advance frigates and minehunters leading the amphibious squadron received reports from the helicopters that there was an odd convoy of vessels in their general route. It seemed to be coming from Tanah Burung. A destroyer, Volsung was sent out to intercept and to communicate with them.

To: Unkown Flotilla
Query: Who are you and what is your purpose? Do you require assistance?
From: Destroyer Volsung Imperial Lavenrunzian Navy.

Off the Eauzian coast, the raft St. Anselm picked up the signal. A small cheer went up. They'd timed it right, then. Father Carlos scrambled to reply: are you bound for syskeyia, volsung? we want to get there god willing to help the peace and defend the faith can you assist with transport?

Aboard the Volsung there was some surprise on the bridge.
No one said anything for a bit.
"Should we contact...the Admiral or something?" suggested the officer of the watch. The Captain shook his head, dismayed.
"What do these people think this is, the crusades?" he asked. Then he waved a hand to suggest they need not answer. "Move to them, and we can always say we are picking up refugees. I don't want to waste time. And let's be alert, go to battle stations but emphasize this is search and rescue so no one will be trigger happy. I have a call to make."

The frigate moved swiftly through the water and came within boat launching distance of the rafts. The Captain, sweating, was waiting for the results of a conference call that was taking place.
From the frigate, a launch was lowered and moved through the waves, bow slapping down now and then, with a young officer with a megaphone in it. The sailors and marines were armed but not obviously hostile, rather curious and fascinated.

As the launch approached their raft, the people started to sing a song of welcome. They held out flowers in the direction of the approaching soldiers.

Father Carlos strode to the edge of the raft closest to the launch, and called out as loudly as he could. "God be praised, you're here! We heard of your passage and your bravery and your fight against oppression."

Father Carlos was not a subtle man, so he forged on. "We suffer and are useless here. You go somewhere better. Will you take us with you, friends?"

Meanwhile the I and XVI Corps went down the Northern Front, the division commanders making sure to place their engineer battalions on the front line in order to thwart the boobytraps of the Reich.

Meanwhile the artillery of the force, when not supporting the troops, fired upon their Veganan counterparts in a duel in which "shoot and scoot" was the key to survival.

Of course, the Syskeyian air strikes aimed at the Veganan artillery didn't hurt, either.

The fighting went on, and the war continued.

Vegena and the holy Jaar have has decided in his wisdom not to contest ownership of that island....
This does not mean we shall not fight....no....even now vast numbers of our men and women head to a new warzone...and Iesus submarines and aircraft assualt the enemy right this minute...we are turning the entire waters of syskeyia into a warzone!
We are prepared for this war, we are prepared to fight! this pathetic sideshow on this island means nothing....the true war is yet to come....

Matthew Iesus


Dear Friends,
I am writing to you in the name of the Iesus people, on the authority of the National government in exile.
We have declared total opposition to any form of government which relies on force alone to maintain a system of supremacy....we have declared opposition to this fascist warmongering in Syskeyia.....
We declare our support for your cause of freedom....
This battle you now start is the beginning...
Your future, no less than ours, is being decided by these actions on which are now being embarked. The fate of billions is now at stake...
In the name of the People of Iesus Christi, I greet the people of liberty. The day of our liberation is dawning. Let us stand together like brothers, for liberty, for freedom and for independence.
Patrick Iesus

OOC: Did you mean St Peter Claver island? I'm confused

On the open seas a naval battleline of old Knootian ships moved away from the friendly shores of the Empire of Baron. With Chimaean flags flying atop their masts they sped to their destiny - to war.

Aboard the military transport ‘Heemskerk’ two Chimaean officers saluted Kolonel Brunner as he made its way down to the deck were his men were waiting. Brunner returned the salute, as he had returned the salutes of all the Chimaean officer corps who were now commanding the formerly Knootian vessels. This day, the day before the battle, he was touring every single ship in the small armada. The Kolonel was an impressive sight - a strong man in his late forties with grey hair, and by any Knootian standard what you would expect of a war hero. His officer’s hat did not match the standard Chimaean colonel’s uniform, displaying the slightly raffled blue markings of a SATO army captain next to the small pin with a golden-lined Knootian flag that denoted a decorated Shadow War veteran.

Cheers went up as he crawled down the small steel stairs to enter the mess hall of the small transport craft. All the Knootians on the ship were packed together for this visit, waiting in a crowd that was six rows thick. With young elegance Brunner jumped the last bit and waved while shooting a charismatic smile. “Speech! Speech!” some began to call out and it became a chant that resounded throughout the deck. Brunner jumped on one of the tables, and hushed down the crowd. All were promptly quiet, looking up to see this man and hear what he had to say.

“Friends! Knootians!”, he began. “We are sailing with the Chimaeans today to do brave deeds. Tomorrow will be a proud day to be a Knootian!” The men in the mess hall cheered, but this was just the start.

“You know me! I believe in the dignity and duty of our people and that is why I am here. I believe that Knootoss has a duty, nay, a destiny to spread its values across the globe. A destiny that starts afresh here, with you! The people fighting alongside us tomorrow will remember us and I have no doubt that they will one day do the same for us.”

He continued more grimly, as the crowd was in absolute silence: “Over there, in Syskeyia, the murderous ‘Christian’ dogs of the Reich rampage and plunder. These brainwashed fundamentalist are cruel beyond measure, and we can expect little mercy at their hands. The Chimaeans and their troops are welcome allies in this upcoming battle, and in the days to come we will stand together with them once more, as we have always done. Our other allies in battle are the good soldiers of Syskeyia, Lavenrunz and Pantocratoria. May their Catholic God bless them as well as us for their faith in this joint cause. Our friends stand now, facing a mighty foe determined to crush them utterly. Are we men enough to aid their defence?”

Cheers went up in a roaring cacaphony of “Ja! Ja!” and other appreciative shouts. “Houzee!”, shouted one. “Afmaken die honden!”, another. Brunner looked at it all and approved.

“This is where we draw the line against the fascist conquerors! This is where we stand or die! It has been well over a century since we last faced the forces of the Reich. The bastards were not strong enough to kill us then and they are not strong enough to kill us now! Let us shock them so much in this battle that they never wish to fight us again!"

((OOC: I implied the sending of volunteers in an earlier post but did not go about describing the trip elaborately and such. If people bitch, I’m willing to write token posts of ships doing the sailing thingy. If not I’ll just arrive next post which will be $TIME away. (And given my busy schedule it won’t be godmodingly early ;) I am also looking forward to Syskeyia ICly accepting the volunteers as he said he would.))

Bendecitia

Chief Tactician Papphammar watched the waves of soldiers strike against the brave North Star soldiers. What had gone wrong?! He knew that the artillery had boxed and hit the Syskeyians in the north with all they had but somehow they had taken no casualties? Was this possible? Thousands of Penal soldiers had died on that hill all apparently in vain.

He watched his possibilities, there were North Star soldiers entrenched there, they would probably not survive the fletchette grenades his artillery was preparing to launch into the area but they were Reich Soldiers, It was their duty to die for The Reich and he knew that the Brave North Star Soldiers had it in them, he had seen them do brave things before and at least they were entrenched, the other soldiers were up and vulnerable. It thought about it a few seconds and then gave the order.

-"Launch, and then counter attack straight after!" May god have mercy on their souls he thought...


OOC: Been bad and not posted as much as I should, will try to make amense. Travel has slowed me down.

---

Brave people of the Reich! Today another of the harlots puppets has extended its long elven snout and dipped it where it not belongs. The nation of Knootoss has declared war with us and we have today proof of Knootian citizens attending the war on the side of the devil spawns armies. All Knootian property has therefore been declared void and been seized by the Government. That includes several large facilities to make Pink Bunny Cola and several other joint ventures. People of Knootoss! You must know that you cant both be friends and stab us in the back.

Any Knootian citizens caught within the Reich will be Seized as spies and properly dealt with.

We also have prrof of Chimaean forces helping the terrorists affilitated with Reich enemy number one, Patrick Iesus. This only further proves that we were right in our search for Terrorists in Bendecitia since we now know that connections between these nations are apparent. Any other nations helping the Syskeyian insurgents will obviously have to be ready pay the ultimate price!

We will cut of the Head of the Dragon and feed the bits to the fishes! God is great! He Will protect us!

Death to the Chimaean Devils!

Death to the knootian Dogs!

Glory to the Reich!

The Volsung

A radio message was sent to the boat, and the Lieutenant said, grinning, "Sure, we'll take you with us. Come, friends."
And with that the frigate moved to take the Tanah Burungis aboard. They were looked at curiously by the Lavenrunzian personnel, and one officer, seeing their rafts, muttered, "Welcome aboard, Captain Bligh."

Coast near Benedectcitia

Admiral Tachteberg was incredulous: they had been able to move in virtually unopposed, though he could not figure out why. Nevertheless, some oversight had permitted this, and he must exploit it immediately!

The minehunters over a period of two days had done their work, and swept clear a path to a landing area. Now, under the cover of the fighter squadrons in the air and the cruisers and destroyers of the fleet, the amphibious ships swept in to the shore and began to land the Imperial Marine divisions.

As the great bellied ships swam right up as close as they could to the shore, Admiral Tachteberg felt a swelling of pride. He, he was commanding the greatest amphibious and surface force since Admiral de Goethe had landed the troops in Ienotheisa.

Overhead, a flight of Wachtmeisters went screaming in past the surf, following any signals from the AWACs of enemy planes. The sky was full of the cloudy streaks of the squadrons of Feuerkatzen, Wachtmeisters and Vikins that he had put in the air. As he watched, a flight began to descend to be cooled down. Below the control tower on the command carrier, the crews looked like little toys scrambling around in preparation for the arrival of the planes.

Aboard the amphibious ships, the marines were tense and relieved, sick of being cooped up on the vessels. Rifles, machineguns, mortars and engineering equipment were clutched. Sergeants kept their squads and platoons in orders, while their officers reviewed the satellite maps of the area. The armored units were warmed up, growling and belching fumes. On the helicopter landing pads on the amphibious ships, dozens of rotors were awhirl as the landing force surged to the beach.

Western Front

Daylight.

Private Shvedyk opened his eyes and the bright sky hurt them. Tears formed and slid down his face as he squinted. He could feel grit on his face but it felt odd, as if he was someone feeling someone else's pain.

He tried to remember where he was. Had he slept in? Was he in his bedroom in Wildergate? If he didn't push off mum was gonna come looking for him. She never respected his privacy. Like, he was 19 years old! He'd been trained to kill people! She could go stuff it, he was willing to let his breakfast go cold for the sake of a few minutes more sleep...

Wait. Something hard on his back. Edgy. It felt like rocks. Why was he lying on rocks? Was there... something he had to do? Something...

He had stepped on a landmine.

The thought trickled its icy way into the depths of his mind, bringing him sharply awake. He and his squad had been scouting one of the smaller passes through the Synora mountains. He had been taking point. He hadn't seen it coming though. Shit.

He tried to lift his hand to his face and found to his surprise that he could. He was expecting the worst. There was dirt on his face. He moved his other arm; it felt heavier, but he could move it. Taking a deep breath, he pushed his torso up a little. His back was on fire, his stomach hurt. He opened his eyes and looked down.

He was roughly pushed down again by strong hands and one of them clamped down on his mouth. He heard a hoarse whisper, "Dude shut the fuck up! We're this fucking close to enemy lines!"

No, he tried to say, You don't understand. My legs. They were longer than that when I saw them last.

The sheer stupidity of the thought made him want to giggle. They must have given him morphine. They...

Darkness.

***

Sergeant Everton swore as Shvedyk lost consciousness again. He signalled to Private Beald and together with the Medic, they lifted Shvedyk onto a fold-out stretcher. Everton looked around and gestured to a rocky outcrop protected by two giant boulders on the base of one of the mountains that rose on either side of them. The group of five soldiers silently moved to the outcrop and settled Shvedyk's stretcher down, away from sight. The Medic went to work once more, banadaging up the man's legs, which were blown off at the knees.

Luckily for him, the mine wasn't a very powerful one. Unluckily for him, they'd been told that there was an enemy group in the area by baseHQ. Everton didn't think much for their chances if it was anything bigger than a squad.

He slapped Beald's arm and said, "Get me baseHQ now!"

Beald talked rapidly and low into his comms unit, and passed the unit to Everton. Glancing around nervously, Everton said, "This is Epsilon 4-7 to baseHQ."

"This is baseHQ. Go ahead Epsilon."

"We have a critically injured casualty needing immediate evac," he said urgently, then gave a list of coordinates.

"Roger that, Epsilon. The sector you're in is not secure for evac, you'll have to move five hundred meters the way you came."

"What the hell? This man's in shock and going under, baseHQ! We need that evac now and we need it here!"

"Negative on the evac at your current position, Epsilon. I'm sorry, but you'll have to move back."

Everton cursed silently, then said as calmly as possible, "Roger that, baseHQ. Moving back."

He geave the unit back to Beald and looked at the Medic. "How is he?"

"Well he's stopped losing blood, Sarge, but other than that we need to get him stabilised. It's not so much the legs I'm worried about but the stomach wound. We need to get him the fuck out of here pronto."

Everton nodded grimly. "They can't land a chopper here," he told the squad. "We have to move back five hundred meters."

Beald swore softly and the Medic frowned but said nothing. Everton shrugged. "It's the way it is, guys. We can't waste much time with cover either. Beald, you're point; Smith, you take the rear. We move hard and fast." he nodded to the Medic. "You and I will carry the stretcher. Let's move, guys."

Everton and the Medic picked up the stretcher. It was heavy but Everton couldn't risk putting more people on it. He had to shrug his weapon onto his back as it was. When they were ready, they moved out from the cover, Beald leading the way and Smith backing them up with his CR50. The crunching of the rocky dirt and the gruff panting of the men as they moved at a trot down the narrow valley was all the noise there was... they could have been on the surface of the moon for all else.

About three hundred meters was covered before the shots rang out, splitting the silence. Beald swore, dropped to his knees and returned fire up the slope to their right. Smith and the rest of the team let off fire, then they were up and running again, bullets whistling around them. Rocks slid down the slope as their pursuers followed paralell to them.

Everton felt helpless as the squad protected Shvedyk's stretcher with their bodies, shooting up the slope as they ran. One hundred meters down and then Beale jerked sideways and fell. Cursing the ground blue, he struggled up, picked up his gun and returned to the front of the line. Everton noticed that he was gritting his teeth in pain even as he squeezed off more rounds.

Everton sighed, then shouted, "Get under cover over there! Go!"

The squad changed course to a more defensible position near more larger stones and boulders. Everton got on the comms units and shouted above the noise, "Epsilon 4-7 to baseHQ! We cannot move further from our current position, under heavy fire. Requesting air support and immediate evac!"

There was a pause, then, "Roger that, Epsilon. Support on its way. Keep under cover."

Everton looked up as the Medic applied a field dressing to Beald's side, even as Beald fired a prolonged burst at the other slope. "Ok guys, help is on its way. Form a better perimeter and lay down covering fire when the evac arrives."

The team split around the boulders whilst the Medic stayed with Shvedyk. Everton took up position close to them and activated the grenade launcher module on his CR60. Taking carefuly aim opposite them he set the grenade to airburst and fired. The high explosive round streaked across the valley and exploded directly above one of the enemy positions; bodies were blasted into the air. In response, the enemy forces fired an RPG at them. Luckily the round curved and struck a boulder nearby, turning the stone into a thousand pieces of rocky shrapnel. One of slammed into Everton's helmet. Another caught the Medic in the leg, and evicted a stream of swearing Everton had never heard before, most of it in Spanish. He made a mental note to ask the Medic for some of it at a better moment and returned fire.

It took ten minutes for the air support to arrive. The first they heard of it was the thud of distant rotors. Everton ordered his men to provide suppression fire against the enemy troops to prevent them from extracting the scene. The squad intensified their fire as the first two attack helicopters came into view.

They were SC-431s; low flying, squat metal monsters with short stubby wings under each of which three sets of missile tubes were placed. There was a heavy caliber machine gun under the nose and two heavier missile under the main body of the aircraft. Everton ordered one of the squad to lase the target area which he did with the laser modile of his rifle. The gunships picked it up and turned with surprising fluidity on the target area. Everton watched as there were muktiple spurts of smoke from the missile tubes and six missiles were launched in succession along the line of the slope. The squad ducked as they exploded in fireballs, blasting the enemy and a fair bit of the mountain into the air.

The third helicopter used the opportunity to slide in behind the gunships and touch down on a flat part of the valley, about twenty meters from the squad's position. Everton and the Medic picked up the sretcher once more and the squad ran to the helicopter. The crew chiefs helped them on board whilst the gunships gave covering fire with their machine guns. Everton watched worriedly as an RPG flew close to the helicopter's rotors, missing narrowly.

when the squad was on board the helicopter lifted up and headed on down the valley. The gunships stayed back for about five minutes, blasting the mountainside, before picking up the pace and following the helicopter out.

Inside, the Medic watched Shvedyk for a while, then leaned back tiredly against the back of the helicopter. Everton stared at him, feeling numb, and he slowly shook his head. The rest of the journey was made in grim silence.

Everywhere was carnage, shells and gun fire never ceased. The private saw the officer running diagonally across the field - a most inviting target. Raising his rifle, he squeezed of several rounds, sending the man falling into the dirt - he never stirred from his position, but lay there face downward, blood pooling around him. A moment after, the private was cursing - his legs torn away by a shell.
The joy of conflict was washing over the Starians, howls of battle frenzy greeted the attackers, along with intense gun and Antitank fire. Vegena artillery opened up, the general crouched in his makeshift bunker, giving orders "hosue to house. trench by trench. the hero recieves paradise" Outside shells burst overhead but still the soldiers cheered as though at a football game.

The Imperial Equites Legion's Third Company was engaged in the feint attack Montmanuel had planned for them as the Chimaean-Pantocratorian force had advanced into position when the Veganan artillery hit. While the flechette grenades were devastating against infantry, they had little effect against the Pantocratorian tanks, although were disabled nevertheless as shrapnel was sent flying about inside the tanks, perforating the crews. The Pantocratorians were shocked at how the Veganans would shell their own allies like that, and were doubly shocked at how ferociously the soldiers from North Star continued to fight on despite obviously being betrayed and abandoned by their own allies. The feint seemed to be succeeding at its true purpose, however; dragging the enemy out and distracting them in their eagerness to fight.

Back in his command tank with the main column just a little away from the fighting, the Duke of Montmanuel watched the fight unfold on his screen, uplinked to Mater. He flicked a switch to turn on his radio.

"General Kartallozi, are your boys in position yet? Everything seems to be going according to my plan with the feint, and I'm itching to hit those Turks hard from the other side. Let's wipe them off the battlefield!" he said.

OOC: Sorry bout that , having too much to do to be able to follow all posts. T-gram me if you want immediate response. I'll take this slap on the wrist as a reminder to wake up and face the music!" ;) Thanks NS for keeping things alive

Coast of Bendecitia

Admiral Moran Couldn't believe his eyes! Somehow the Lavenrunz contignent had sneaked by the alpha Squadron and now lay outside Bendecitia in perfect position for an assault. He swore under his breath. This could cost them the entire battle. The only opportunity he had was to launch his missiles against the fleet lying there, there were in too short distance to be efficiently fought with the bomber drones. He checked his forces, but the subs were all engaged with the Chimaean fleet so this would have to be between jets and battleships. He saw the towers of the other battleships slowly turn around and beginning to fire away on the enemy.

Outside Bendecitia

The last shells had not even stopped falling when the charge begun. Panzer dug down emerged from their entrenched position and struck with a flank maneuver. They were followed by shocktroops from the 7:th brigade. A horrible sound was blaring out from the loudspeakers on the tanks as they descended on the enemy. It was the old marching music of the Inquisitors, morphed into something mindnumbing from the low quality loudspeakers but still recognisable.

This was his third mission in one of the Veganian Gunships and he was getting the hang of it. When he got the signal he emerged over a hill and started to lock on to Pantocratorian units with his Hellfire missiles. He knew he had to fire away as many as possible before the effect of the barrage would reside. He got a lock and pushed his fire-and-forget hellfire, its jet tracing a line towards the tank down on the ground. He knew that this was the first time they really made a stand against their enemy. It was time for the enemy to know the true wrath of the Reich!


Bendecitia

The artillery officer that received the order was mighty confused. Firing flechettes at the sea? Even if they set them to explode at 60 meters as the orders were it didn't make much sense. The flechettes would turn the air into an inferno of scrapnels but would only kill the men that stood on the outside of the ships. He gave the order and when he saw the airplanes starting to lift of from the Lavenrunz ship he understood the genius of using flechettes there. He prayed for the souls of the poor fighter pilots that would face the explosions as they tried to take off. The ships would be invulnerable to the flechettes but the fighter jets... That was an entirely different matter.

The Duke of Montmanuel scowled as he watched more tanks disappear on his tactical display. It looked like North Star's units had been reinforced and the feint was now taking heavy casualties.

"Kartallozi, the Turks have been reinforced, the Third Company is losing tanks fast! With all this artillery raining down, I don't suppose the town will be any the worse off with my tanks up there, whether your spotters are ready or not. Talk to me!" he shouted into the radio. "I'm going to move out now! We'll be engaging the enemy in ten minutes!"

He pressed the appropriate buttons on the central dispatch control computer, and Mater relayed his orders to the rest of the Imperial Equites Legion. The main column now started up and raced quickly around the back way through the mountain passes down into the opposite set of fields from those in which the fighting had thus far been happening. The Reich's defenders wouldn't realise until it was too late that the Third Company was just a feint, and that the main body of Pantocratorian tanks was about to hit them from the otherside. As his command tank came to life and started speeding through the rough terrain, Montmanuel grinned and pulled on his magnificent helmet.

"This is more bloody like it, 'eh boys?" he shouted to the rest of his tank crew.

Bendecitia

The third and fifth Panzer brigade was making a gigantic sweeping maneuver from left to right to capture the point force and the supporting forces within a sack. This Blitzkrieg maneuver was supposed to be as surprising as devastating and now the enemy would experience why they only had encountered "Soft" resistance in the outskirts of the town. Chief Tactician Papphammar watched on his planning board as the Inquisitors, the elite units, came out from the right flank with their own panzer to catch the enemy forces in a nutcracker maneuver. More than 40,000 top trained soldiers were involved in this attack.

Hauptmann Stirling were running from house to house. He felt the drugs that they always were injecting before battle making him stronger and better. He was invincible! He was invulnerable! He laughed in the face of death! He advanced and heard orders being barked out through the com unit in his helmet. His orders were clear, they had an enemy contignent 400 meters in front of them. They had to advance over a field and a school yard to get there, the resistance was expected to be light. Resistance!? Pwha! He pitied the resistance! He was a god! He was immortal! Looking to his right he could see his comrades advancing together with him in a scattered line. The sound of their Panzer were roaring through his sound amplifiers. There! The enemy could be seen, it was merely a small communication unit, moving away from the battle field. He could hear the roar from him and his comrades as they descended on the enemy, firing away with their heavy assault rifles. He felt some returning fire scatter against his body armour, maybe some went through, he didn't care, he still felt no pain.

Coast of Bendecitia

She and her mate was swimming towards the irresistible sound that came from the ships far away. She sang with her mate as he swam fin to fin with her also excited and hurrying towards the sound. Like moth to a flame. They heard other members of their pack moving in the same direction but with different goals widely spread in the surrounding sea, they all chittered in their high pitched song, a song of love and of joy. No one seemed to care about the heavy load they were carrying, they were just eager to get to their objectives and receive their reward. The hulls of the Lavenrunz fleet were like a sweet flower for a swarm of bees and these bees were carrying 1kT warheads...

Admiral Tachteberg's exhultation was interrupted by a tense faced Signals officer saying, "Enemy fleet--Veganan signature--bearing North to South, right on us!"
"They're opening fire!" another said.
From each of the cruisers countermeasures were immediately deployed, but the shells were not missiles and therefore the flechettes exploded anyway, tearing apart the planes trying to take off. The flight control officer near Tachteberg winced, trying not to think of faces he knew, associated with call signs that had come in for refuelling.
As fire erupted on the carriers that had been hit, Tachteberg grimly gave orders for the fleet to hit back.
The missile racks of the twenty cruisers swung as if by one mind, and Jormungandr missiles began to explode off their decks, wreathing the ships in smoke and fire as they roared towards the battleships.
As they fired, the submarine squadron fanned out, ready for orders but commanded to hold tightly for the moment.

Meanwhile, the first wave of Imperial Marines landed ashore, riding amphibious vehicles through the waves. A helicopter squadron bore two battalions of recon forces ahead of them near a road, swirling dust and vegetation as they began to land by flights. General Letz, in her command vehicle, stood tall in the hatch, making sure to be seen by the first units of her division. Most of the other vehicles, apart from an AFV platoon, were engineering vehicles that were linking up to make pontoons out to the amphibious ships.

Aboard SSN Werther Commander Oldenburg received a sonar report.
"Captain, there's a group of incoming signals...no, wait, they're just dolphins." there was a relieved laugh from the sonar section. However, the captain blanched.
"Crap! Send a signal to the fleet...this could be an attack."
His XO quietly said, motioning for the signalman to wait, "Paul, hang on a moment...do you want to break radio silence for a dolphin pod? We're supposed to stay hidden."
"But...what if they're trained to move torpedos?"
"We don't know for certain." said the XO. "We do know for certain that we have orders."
There was a tense moment. Oldenburg saw beads of sweat on the XO's temple. He nodded, grimly. "Alright. Maintain radio silence and silent running." The other submarines had done likewise, remaining as invisible as possible.

Those planes not covering the approach of the marines were galvanized by the attack on the carriers.
The AWACs planes continued to monitor the overall battle as it began, but two of the electronic warfare planes immediately began to send a flood of signals towards the opposing fleet, to cover the advance of the Wachtmeisters and Feuerkatzen.

Commander Hohenloe felt a cold fury as she guided her squadron towards the enemy fleet from above. The powerful planes dove out of the clouds and began to launch their anti-ship missiles towards the fleet. As she took the lead, the pilots and navigators flanking her could see the legend on the side of her plane: "Mama Spank".

Outside Benedictia, North Star lines

The Army spotter teams had a hell of a time getting around the village. Even though they were in groups of two and four for the purpose in hand, the North Star troops were everywhere. Not only that, their Veganan allies had started shelling on top of them! The shelling had delayed things a lot. The teams hadn't expected shelling this close to North Star lines.

Kartallozi watched anxiously for the ready screens to light up. This was probably a horrendously stupid idea. But he was committed so he stuck to his guns, ordering his APCs to fire their heavy machine guns and rockets at enemy positions as suppressing fire.

He saw the enemy armour and helicopters rise up suddenly and winced. There was an explosion of commotion as both Pantocratorian and Chimaean forces mentally backpedalled to deal with the new threat. These Reich bastards are bloody insane! he thought angrily. He tried to ignore the Duke's calls for action--it was fair enough but he wasn't going to take any chances with civilian lives--and Chimaean lives, for that matter.

One of the APCs ahead and to his right exploded in a burst of pyrotechnics as a missile blasted into it. Kartallozi swore and said into his comms unit, "Brigadier Waterson! Where the hell are your troop!"

The answer crackled back a few long moments later: "I can't talk right now, sir."

"I need to know when to give the Duke's tanks the greenlight, for heaven's sake!" he knew he was being unfair, but this was a desperate situation.

"We have most of the town surrounded sir, but not at strength around the back. It's bloody hard to get my forces moving through this barrage, sir. The spotter teams should be coming online momentarily."

It was frustrating, waiting here while the soldiers did the work. But there wasn't much for it. "All right, Waterson. Widen your perimeter if you must."

"Roger that, sir."

***

The first spotter team got into position, ducking and weaving through the deserted streets of the town from the side. They crawled a fair distance and entered a disused warehouse building which had partly been turned into a makeshift morgie. The team radioed this in, then settled down in one of the upper stories of the warehouse. The window was cracked and grimy but afforded a fair view of the North Star lines. One of the spotters activated the laser designater and zeroed in on a tank, while the others did likewise on other targets. Hopefully the North Star troops weren't going to spot them.

***

One of the screens came alive with coordinate information. Kartallozi breathed a sigh of relief as the information was simultaeneously forwarded to the Pantocratorian tanks' battle computers.

The comms unit came alive again. "Kartallozi, the Turks have been reinforced, the Third Company is losing tanks fast! With all this artillery raining down, I don't suppose the town will be any the worse off with my tanks up there, whether your spotters are ready or not. Talk to me! I'm going to move out now! We'll be engaging the enemy in ten minutes!"

Kartallozi considered for a second, then shrugged. Most of the Chimaean troops were in position, though there was still a weak point in the rear of the town. More and more spotter teams were lighting up, though there were still fewer than there should be. It was worrying, but there wasn't much he could do.

"All right, sir," he said cooly, "We've got eyes on a fair lot of their positions. Direct your fire to the coordinates transmitted to you. I'll order my men to move into the industrial zone of the town. Good luck, sir. Kartallozi out."

He nodded at his aid. "Move 'em in."

***

Coast of Benedictia, First Fleet

The First Fleet started an intensified bombardment as the Lavenrunz ships broke through the Vegana fleet and started landing troops. The missile ships, cruisers and destroyers headed determinedly for the Veganan fleet while the carriers remained where they were with their escorts, launching airstrikes as the airbattle raged above them.

The troops transports were in the next detachment, following as close as possible to the Lavenrunz path. The commanders hoped that with the intensified attack on their fleet the Veganan forces would have their work cut out targetting the troop transports and their escorts.

The fletchett shells caused immediate havoc with air operations, bursting through the planes and downing them, especially the slower anti-ship aircraft that was in the air. Nearer the Veganan fleet lines it was even worse as they pounded the Chimaean ships with artillery and airstrikes which they fended off as best as possible the barrage. It was difficult to keep up though and holes started appearing in the defence as the first Chimaean landing craft reached a suitable place to beach and were met with machine gun fire for emplaced Veganan positions. The Chimaean Marine teams called in fresh artillery and air strikes as they took what cover they could on the mostly open beach.

The main body of the Imperial Equites Legion hit into the outer flank of the Veganan panzers as they moved to encircle the village. The presence of the Veganan tanks was a surprise, and in his command tank the Duke of Montmanuel hurriedly issued new orders. Since Montmanuel's main attack was as much of a surprise to the Veganans as the presence of the Veganan reinforcements was to the Pantocratorians and Chimaeans, both sides were momentarily confused as they made contact.

But the confusion passed quickly. Soon the tanks on each side were exchanging fire, and Montmanuel's plans had been readjusted. The full formation of the Imperial Equites Legion smashed through the Veganan flank, breaking up the enemy advance in the middle. A bloody pitched battle between the two groups of warmachines began at extremely close quarters.

"General, I request any and all anti-tank support you can muster!" the Duke of Montmanuel shouted into his radio over the sounds of his command tank's screaming engine, and its main gun firing. "We've encountered Veganan panzers! Repeat, Veganan panzers, requesting anti-tank support!"

Bendecitia

Chief Tactician Papphammar smiled a smug smile as he got the continous reports from the battlefield. It seemed as if his outflanking maneuver had hit the enemies outflanking maneuver and they know were heavily engaged. He had no doubts that his heavily armed and armoured elite forces would wipe out the resistance. After all, that was the good part of leading the Inquisitors from a nation such as his. Vegana had been breeding soldiers and training them for war from young ages for a long time now, that and the various battle drugs that he knew the soldiers injected before the battle made them vitually unbeatable in close encounters. What worried him was the attack on the naval flank and the incoming waves of air forces from the bordering nations. He needed some way to deal with that. He ordered in one of his aides, Colonel Reyes, to deal with that.

-"I need instant support for our fleet, how many planes can you muster?"

-"Sir, most of our planes are engaged with enemy aircraft north west of Bendecitia. WE have fought them to a stand still but we're taking heavy losses..."

-"Drop that flank and try to muster an attack on the Lavenrunz ships while they are engaging our fleet. With gods help we may recover air superiority after we have driven back the threat of the fleet."

Colonel Reyes nodded and scurried away with his new orders. Papphammar watched the map again, small dots moving and appearing and disappearing. The GPS signals allowed him to see where the enemy seemed weakest. He needed to break this attack, he needed to buy himself time. He ordered in the reserve against the spots that seemed weak. The inquisitors still hadn't come into play and he knew they were his strongest card.


Coast of Bendecitia

In the war room the reservist watched the stock of flares and counter-measures drop at an alarming speed. He was sweating and wondered why he ended up as a supply chain manager onboard one of the Veganian navies flag ships. He knew they couldn't withstand this punishment for long, he already had heard that one of the cruisers had been badly hit and was sinking and that several of the other ships were hurt. He tried to work magic here not to let down any of the crews. The worst thing a crew could experience was that awful "Click" when a flare or a chaff was supposed to be launched against the incoming fire.

Bendecitia

He shoved the muzzle of his assault rifle cleanly through his enemies vizier. Hauptmann Stirling Screamed with joy as he fired a few times and saw a spray of blood and substance splurt from the backside of the enemy helmet. He looked down and saw a bayonet that somehow had penterated his armour and got stuck in his thigh. With a firm grip he pulled it out and shoved it into the next soldier that looked on him with eyes full of fear. He had no idea how these men had come across him, HQ reports had not said anything about heavy enemy concentration yet here they were. The good news were that they seemed as confused and startled by his presence as he and his men had been of theirs. Never a man to think to much, especially not when he was under the influence of battle drugs he had done what he and his men did best. Carnage. The more enemies, the more targets. He threw one of his grenades towards an armoured enemy vehicle and simultaneously threw himself to the ground bracing for impact. As soon as the expected explosion would come he would storm up blasting whatever of the enemy that was left standing.

Fiery spears rained down on the Veganan fleet from the missile launchers of the Lavenrunzian ships. Guided by their sophisticated systems, they went unerringly to their targets, halted only by any anti-missile guns that were effective.
However, simultaneous with the second wave of attack, the submarine squadron received its orders and suddenly began to move forward, water jet propulsion making them almost silent. Torpedo bays ready. When the launch came, the swift torpedos hurtled through the water, each aimed at a carrier.
From the air, the Lavenrunzian planes sent a deadly array of missiles against the capital ships.

Unopposed on land, the First Imperial Marine Division began its advance on the city of Bendecitia. Guided by liasons connected to an AWACs and to satellite, they were intending to outflank the Veganan forces. Spirits were high. The marines often had pictures of the Empress and blessed weapons, and felt confident that they fought on the side of God. Rumbling along in apcs, tanks and trucks, helicopters overhead, they went surging towards their opponents. The second and third divisions were finishing their landing but already moving into position to be able to advance.

Coast of Bendecitia

She heard her mate chirp in joy as he reached his target. She could almost see him waiting for the others to reach theirs and as they did they activated their carriers as one. The great whiteness flooded their minds as the school activated their warheads as one under the Lavenrunz fleet.

The wing saw the soldiers mounting a beach head on the east side of Bendecitia. They had been averted from the northern front to counter the fleet and this was a too tempting target to resist. They would have loved to drop a layer of small splitter flechettes to discourage the men landing on the beach below them. They would have a hard time breaking into Festung Bendecitia, turned into a fortress towards all side, even if this side was weaker than the north. But their real target was the fleet in front of them as the Lavenrunz planes were occupied with the Veganian fleet they would make sure that they had no base to return too. Flying in at a low angle they dropped their dam buster bombs designed to break the hull of big ships and explode in there. It was then the sea rose to meet them....

Veganian Fleet

Admiral Moran was sweating as he counted his losses so far. His flagship could withstand the punishment but the air attack had sinked four of the more vulnerable ships along with several of the swift but not as armoured hovercrafts and for every air craft he took down from the sky there seemed to be two new ones. But the swarms might make them vulnerable he thought. He ordered out the Katyush rafts they would have one shot each but the power of their weapon would probably sink them even if the enemy didn't


Bendecitia, easter Front
Dug down in trenches the ninth brigade watched the forces emerge from the sea with glee. They intended to let them come a bit closer and then open up with everything they had. If this worked as planned the enemy would be driven back and they could activate the mines on that beach section to box them in. One of the men caressed the gun that stood beside him, it would definitely have its share of blood today.

Chaos reigned on the seas.

Under one of the carrier groups, destruction bloomed and burst, alarms going off, klaxons howling insanely as suddenly carrier Mirenburg sagged dangerously, as two destroyers and a cruiser folded almost in half. The explosions reverberated in the water, shuddering past the submarines. Tachteberg gasped in horror, seeing the carrier sliding leeward, equipment spilling off the broad decks.
"Rescue, Excellency?" asked the operations officer.
He shook his head, pale. "Not right now." he said. "Let the surviving ships of that group deal with their problems."

As the enemy planes began to bomb the fleet, they found that the Lavenrunzian destroyers responded automatically, autocannons suddenly swiveling skyward, pumping out uranium depleted rounds in the direction of their attackers. From up above the clouds, the AWACs squadron, protected by one Wachtmeiser fighter squadron, sent a signal, and the Feuerkatz fighter-bombers suddenly dropped like falcons to engage their enemy, sending a stream of missiles at them.

OOC: Mea Culpa. Will twrite something long tonight when I get home

Coast of Bendecitia

The destroyers fanned out from the perimeter releasing depth charges as they were approaching the blips on their instruments. They started of with great speed deccelerating as to not get caught to far from the main fleet. Round objects were catapulted into the water wherever they got the indications of approaching submarines.

He watched the diver-bombers diving towards the fleet and began to engage. His swift fighter jet dancing in the sky. Watching to his left he could see his wing mates forming up in the familiar attack pattern. He swerved his jet and saw the enemy plane. It had some kind of scribble on its side, something about mama or something, he tried to lock and followed it. A smile spreading in his face as he read the scribble, this making him miss the enemy on his tail. As the explosion spread through his plane he cried out in joy of meeting the lord.

A monstrous explosion of sand and rocks blew over the area when the rocket
fired , sending a wave of dust over the Marines who fired the weapon.
Cheers erupted as the lead tank burst into flame from the missilehit. But still the enemy were advancing. inch by inch they were driving back the defenders.
trench by trench, tunnel by tunnel, house by house they faught. As they were driven back, varied items were discovered.
The usual boobytraps and other devices to slow the advance, but also pamplets and books -issues by the islamic government - they explained 'why' the starians didnt even consider surrendering.

The syskeyian infidal - the soldier of the devil
Surrender to them and their lavenrunz masters is impossible, for they will strip your honor and your flesh will be their pleasure.
The Hanabalites show us the way!
resist and enter paradise pure!
shahada during jihad is the only option!

Northern Front
Sgt. Matthew Sivaraksa looked outside of his 2nd Armored Divison Abrams tank as the monstrous fighting machine sped its way across the Syskeyian countryside.

Since the counteroffensive started, Matthew and his crew had faced nothing but insurgents and their RPGs. They had faced combat, yes, but it was mainly in support of the infantry.

When are the Vegs gonna bring in their armor? he thought.

where are oceania and eastasia when they are needed :mad:

Coast of Bendecitia

The sea rose like a gigantic wall to meet the planes coming in on low altitude. Stirling could just sea his altitude drop from 30 meters to zero and then he entered the waves as they exploded up from the nuclear charges and started to swallow the planes on its way towards shore and outwards from the charges. The last thing he and his wingmen thought of was the sight of the almost living sea, one second almost calm and the next second propelled up to meet their charge together with a white flash as if a picture was taken with an underwater camera.


Commander Amend watched the signals on his sonar and started to drop his depth charges. The air cushioned Jaeger class destroyers that still hadn’t been destroyed by the aerial attacks swept over open sea to drop its load over the incoming submarines. Like giants eagles they swooped over the locations in great speed and spread charges over the area where they got a hit with their instruments dragging after the vehicles like bait on a fishing line. Their mission was to get to the subs before the subs got through their defensive perimeter.

Dozens of small rafts floated out around the battle ships, on each raft a katyush and a crew of three. This was a manual operation and they would only get one shot, but their pure mass of rockets that each Katyush fired would be devastating and if some of their own planes got killed so be it. Lavenrunz had massed their attack and had the greater number of planes right now. This was their only way to equal those numbers. The battleships anti-aircraft and counter measure stations were working on borrowed time. The muzzles of some of the battleships cannons were almost glowing red from the heat the massive bombardment on its attackers generated. So far three cruisers and disappeared under the waves and several destroyers and troop transports were gone together with them. One of the Battleships had taken a heavy punishment and even if the gigantic size of the Carriers made them endurable it also made them even bigger targets.


Northern Front, Bendecitia

The red mist had risen and was almost overwhelming his vision now. With a scream he flung his drug enhanced body into the enemy soldiers, firing away with his assault rifle with only one hand, his other ripped to pieces by a burst of enemy fire. He aimed his useless hand and let a spray of blood shower them as he cackled with insane laughter. The blood loss made his sense of euphoria even stronger. He was god. He was invincible. Everything went black...

Ashore, the First Divisions Reconaissance Battalion, in light armored vehicles and fighting machines that were meant for swift movement went growling ahead of the rest of the division. A swarm of machines, men and women, tanks, apcs, artillery, mortars, helicopters, they surged through the war damaged countryside. The Marines' force was like a great arrowhead advancing on the flank of the city.

Among the submarines, klaxons were going off, and orders to "Dive, dive!" being commanded. Countermeasures were flung up to confuse those who might be seeking them. However, Commander Krafft, on the Niebelung, chose to continue following orders and instead exclaimed, "Left, full rudder! Deploy Countermeasures!" in an effort to avoid being hit. Another commander, following his example, by horrible mischance went right into a depth charge. The sound of implosion made those on the Niebelung wince in dread, but they were all almost hypnotized by the captain's display of nerve as he sat in the command chair like a statue while his orders were carried out.

In one of the observation helicopters, Lieutenant Neumann gaped in amazement at the sight of the rising sea...which incidentally swamped a group of Lavenrunzian landing craft as well. He was glad he was a safe distance away...and he was wondering what on Earth it meant. Regardless, he sent in a report, trying not to stammer like an idiot.

Commander Hohenloe and her comrades flung their planes in an ecstasy of defiance down at the enemy fleet. The Wachtmeisters were nearly empty of missiles, and she said, "Alright, Sword Squadron. Let's make this one count. For the Empress!"
They chose as their target the already damaged battleship, its bow wreathed in puffs of smoke. Hohenloe and her wingmate targeted what they believed from intelligence reports to be a good spot to hit ammunition, and launched their last two anti-ship missiles, then pulled up, weaving in the air to avoid being targets for anti-aircraft fire.

As the Niebelung began to make its run, two of the Imperial Navy cruisers launched another fusilade of Jormungandr missiles--this time at the destroyers, to cover the submarines' advance on the enemy fleet.

OOC: And I thought I was bloodthirsty. You guys not only take the cake, but eat the biscuits and drink the tea, too. :p Anyway stuffit, I'm gonna start the big combat in the Western Front.

-------------------
Western Front

The mountain passes along this sector of the Synora range was quiet. The freezing winds swept through the valleys, sweeping the sparse vegetation that managed to grow in the rocky terrain. Occassionally a lose pebble would fall, dislodging other stones in a miniature landslide.

All was quiet.

And then, all was not quiet. The Chimaean jet screamed through a valley, flying dangerously low, followed by six other jets. Occassionally one of the jets would pick up altitude and head off briefly to the East and West before returning. Paralell to the flight were other squadrons of fighters rending the air as they flew through the mountains.

Moving at a more sedate pace behind them were the rapid reaction forces; fleets of helicopters flying high as possible. Most were carrying troops; some were gunships, bristling with missiles and canons. Others were larger transport aircraft, carrying equipment and supplies. The cold mountain air seemed clogged with metal as the Chimaean forces progressed through them.

On the ground came the rest of the Chimaean forces; APCs, armoured trucks, tanks and humvees as well as the bulkier Command and Control vehicles. Behind these were the aupply vehicles, lightly armoured and heavily guarded.

Flying above them all were the odd SC-40s lumbering through the air and the more common and smaller C-5 Galaxy and derivates thereof, all carrying supplies and equipment to the front lines.

Above them were the other planes; high altitutde the small drones that spied on the land and air below and fascilitated communications, the larger unmanned craft that provided jamming and electronic warfare technologies. Above these, of course, were the parts of the Baron Defence Grid that had formed a satellite network over Syskeyia in conjunction with Syskeyian, Lavenrunz and other allied satellites. They were actively shifting information and scanning , supporting everything from individual missile strikes to the manouevers of whole divisions of troops.

The scene was being repeated in other sectors of the Synora range as the CAF forces launched their major offensive. The previous weeks had been spent patiently clearing ways, assembling supplies and troops, creating a multitide of platforms and airfields to launch the offensive from. Major progress through the mountains were jealously guarded and constantly attacked by Veganan air forces; Veganan guerillas and special forces had been harrying the gathering forces without rest, installing booby traps and landmines and making rapid surgical strikes. One such strike had disrupted supplies to two Brigade of 44th Infantry for five days and disaster was averted from the brave actions of helicopter pilots who braved a storm of anti-aircraft fire and enemy air forces to deliver much-needed supplies and provide covering fire.

Even in the final offensive that was happening now, they had to be careful. While the enemy air attacks in the North West seemed to be lessening, the retreating Veganan geurillas had left nasty surprises along the sparse roads and valleys for the CAF forces. Landmines were a particular worry in the narrower mountain passes as sometimes the vehicles had to travel almost in single file. Ambushes were common and had to be fought hard against. The Syskeyian guides and special forces units supporting the offensive provided much-needed intel and tactics, having trained and studied or even worked and lived in the area before the invasion.

It would heat up even more, though, as the CAF troops neared the final downward haul towards the plains below and Benedictia City.

Bendecitia Beach

The men of the ninth brigade saw the sea rise in an enormous wave that swallowed some of the Lavenrunz landing crafts.

-"What the hell was that?" One of the men stuttered. His grip around his weapon made his knuckles white. They had their orders, they had to let the enemy come a little bit closer.

Coast of Bendecitia

From being a relatively calm sea Commander Amend felt his ship start moving like a roller coaster on the big waves that suddenly appeared. Several of the ships in his units were overturned or helped on their way by the missiles from the enemy cruisers. He watched a missile miss his ship by a few meters as he was thrown into the air by the wave. Determined to ride the bullet he clasped at the joystick that steered the ship and continued his search for enemy submarines as Veganian jet fighters swooped in and returned fire on the enemy criusers. Choppers had joined in the search for subs now. They were determined not to let a single one through.

In the air the dogfight was joined by more jet fighters from inland. On a nice night with some mulled wine and sparkloing stars it probably would been a wonderful sight. But the lives that payed the ultimate price up there in the sky would probably not agreed.

"Awwww crap." muttered Hohenloe. Her navigator exclaimed as well; they were under attack by enemy planes, some of which were hurtling down past them towards the fleet. And no missiles left in the racks...it was dogfight time. She felt the g's pulling on her as she spun the Wachtmeister out of the flight of an enemy missile and went spinning around to counterattack, to go close in with the rattling guns. Around her, her squadron mates were doing the same, grimly not willing to let these bastards get through to the fleet.

Aboard the Niebelung, Krafft clenched his teeth behind what appeared to be a mask of calm. Reports were coming in. It was like the entire Veganan fleet was hunting him and the remaining subs that were in action. The others were probably taking the longer route, hoping that with deep diving they could then do an approach from elsewhere. But he was here, now, and had to take his shot and then risk the worst. Sometimes you have to kill the thing you love. He did not look at his crew as he ordered them to target one of the carriers. Two of the torpedo tubes immediately launched. These torpedos were similar enough to the Reich's; they were fast and deadly but they would also give a signature of where they were firing from. "Now, dive, dive!" he commanded. This electrified the command center. They all felt the angle change and heard the submarine's hull groaning.

Admiral Tachteberg waved away reports about the big wave...he couldn't figure out what it meant, and therefore did not want to waste time on it. Instead, he growled, "Where the hell is the submarine squadron?"
"Most of them I think dove down when they came under attack. But there are a couple of them...no..." the operations officer, glancing at a screen, sighed and said, "One, heading for the Veganan Fleet. But it's going to be like shooting ducks in a barrel in a moment unless that captain is damned lucky."

The Imperial Marine recon battalion had run into some mines. Captain Stuckhart, commanding the Combat Engineer unit attached, jumped down from his K-40 CBE vehicle, and paused just a moment. There was small arms fire, and mortar and artillery vehicles were pounding the hell out of some defensive works a few klicks away. The fight was starting. And at the same time, several marines were using entrenching tools to shovel bits of some comrades in arms into body bags. They looked pale and rather green. And damn, it was hot. Nothing looked vaguely Lavenrunzian. He saw his sergeant motioning the unit ahead with their detection equipment and nodded. "Let's get this done." he said. A pair of Valkyr attack helicopters droned overhead.

Coast of Bendecitia

Amend watched the signature of two torpedoes getting past their defensive ring and making their way towards one of the carriers. He knew it was too late, they didn't have a chance to stop those he thought as he watched the two traces moving with an incredible speed towards their intended target. At least they will pay for that in blood, he thought. They had a lock on the origin of those torpedoes and quickly sped towards that point catapulting several depth charges towards the area to force the enemy up to the surface. He heard the screams of frustration over the radio as orders were given to intesify the hunt for the submarines, to make them pay for damages done. But he couldn't care less, he was focused on his prey.

Bendecitia Beach.

They had waited long enough, it was time to spring into action. It looked like the enemy units had stopped and they didn't want them to wait for too long and discover the trap. The order was given for a kinetic strike in three, two , one... Engage!

They all opened up in a massive storm of fire and explosions. The mines on the beach that they had planned to use when the enemy was turned back had been swept off by the wave and when they pressed the keys to make them explode they went off everywhere. SOme out in the sea, one even close to one of the trenches, injuring several of the men.

Five kinetic strikes were delivered, causing enormous explosions as mass and speed turned into energy in the midst of human bodies and material.

-"God is great! The streets will flow with the blood of the unbeliever!" Inquisitors were moving further back in the lines enhancing the morale of the strike. They all knew that it was needed because the intial strike would be followed by a charge from some of the units to exploit the initial confusion. They were unsure of the location of some of the mines so plenty of good men would go to meet their maker in their charge against the Lavenrunz dogs.

Western Front

The plan was simple, knowing fully well that the enemy would have at least as good intelligence as the Veganian forces their hope was on deception. Several strips had been cleared and paper rolled out to make it look like landing strips. Hundreds of vehicles had been melded to look like panzer and to create enough heat to make it believable. The real panzer had been hidden and dug down to be able to emerge from the left flank if the enemy went for the fake tanks. It was a gamble but examining their own satellite reports they had to admit that it looked pretty real. The question was, would the Chimaeans buy into it?

In the trenches the soldiers were trying to amuse themselves best they could with card games and books. No fires were allowed and a complete blackout had been ordered during night. The enemy would not be allowed to see these positions. In one the trenches there had been some betting on how many passing dog soldiers they could dispose off. It had been an ongoing fun to shoot penal battallion remnants that had streamed down towards the city the last day until the Commissars had found out. The whole unit had now joined the ranks of the Penal Battallions, boredom was a bitch!

The Valley looked peaceful at first. Noone really expected anyone from the enemy side to go through here. They had dug in and kept a few panzer but this spot was generally considered a sweet spot for Shocktroops and Inquisitors with connections or in need for a reward. Not that the Inquisitors had any connections but the emperor, but all the same it was a nice place to spend the time in. In far distance cannons and the sound of explosions could be heard. This valley was covered by around 1,800 shocktroops and 400 inquisitors. There had been some dog soldiers in the valley when they arrived but they had somehow disappeared, only some shattered bones had been found.

Most of the time in camp was spent on weapon duty and maintenace of the 12 Exeon Panzer that had been assigned to this place. They had reports that the enemy might come this way even if it had been deemed very unlikely, but they had to keep a certain level of awareness anyway. If it had not been for the pious Inquisitors the place had looked more like summer camp than a highly efficient defesnive post.

There were not many land masses near Bendecitia that could be qualified as a "valley," but this one could be, abliet qualifiedly so. A low green valley, it was somewhat close to the beach, and possesed some trees and farmland in its verdant belly.

Into this vale came the 2nd Infantry Brigade of the 1st Infantry Division. A combined arms team of tanks, infantry, APCs and whatnot, the unit had seen action in Amerigo, Knootoss and the peacekeeping operation in Bloodreign. Whether the move to advance here was uncertain; even the brigade's commander, Colonel Andrew Supachai, had doubts about advancing here.

Sgt. Matthew Hoan also had apprehensions, but did not share the doubts of his colonel. As he looked out of the commanders hatch of his Sabra tank, his reservations were not the intellectual reservations of his commander, but had a more emotional nature.

I have a bad feeling about this, the tank sargeant thought.

The Imperial legislate palace
The council chamber was in an up roar, the council of faiths debate over syskeyia was getting heated.
“Syskeyia must be destroyed! Death to lavenrunz! Death to syskeyia! Since we have not been allowed to send reinforcements to General Zacowe we must widen the war” Mullah Vikram shouted angrily as he pounded his fist down onto the table “we have masses of forces not engaged while the enemy brings her forces down! This cannot go on! We demand action!”
Several of the sterner old clanlord types rallied against this, screaming that a war would be a tragedy for all involved. General khani tried to be calmer but even his famous patience was wearing thin “Do you really suggest we go to war with these nations? Total war?”
Not blinking an eye Vikram answered, “Yes, we want total war!”

Retching marines were using entrenching tools to dump the sand gritted remains of their comrades into body bags on the beach. One of the landing areas had had remote operated mines in it, maddeningly in what appeared to be totally random locations, as if some passing lunatic had dropped them. What was particularly horrible to the young men and women of the landing force for the 2nd Division was that they sometimes recognized the parts in question--a hand, an ear. A lot of it was a sticky butcher's yard mess. From the waters where the mines had gone off, dead and dying fish were sweeping in with the tide, adding to the stink of excrement, blood and explosives.
General Heinz von Berg, the commander of the Division, had his helicopter land nearby. Cursing under his breath, realizing that this had slowed down the landing of an entire brigade, he ordered combat engineers to sweep the way first.

Meanwhile, up ahead, a sudden seemingly kamikaze attack by Veganan troops was met by the Imperial Marines' autocannon and helicopter support fire. The recon battalion, trained to counterattack and advance in the face of enemy aggression, screamed "For the Empress!" as the units advanced under the covering fire of the KM-25 IFVs and Valkyr attack helicopters. The whoosh of rocket pods and the rattling howls of autocannons filled the air, the sound of SAWs and assault rifles seeming small and insignificant by comparison. Signals were sent: the tank and infantry battalions of the first brigade to advance and support immediately.
Veganan and Lavenrunzian blood was being shed eagerly.
Staff Sergeant Katzenburg, of the Imperial Marine Engineers, was caught in the act of de-mining when one of them blew up about ten meters away, ripping her vehicle asunder, fire and smoke belching out, a screaming thing that looked like a person in flames rushing out of it. She jumped up without thinking, trying to knock the person down, but at that moment the zipping of automatic rifle fire was all around her and her platoon, and she felt something slap her leg and make her trip. Damn, it hurt like a son of a bitch! She saw, dismayed, that the burning figure had vanished in the smoke, and that someone was dragging her...oh, God, it hurt! behind the wreckage of a vehicle. One of her corporals was shouting something, kneeling, firing at a group of people in odd uniforms who were rushing out of the ground, seemingly, and she was having an injection.

Captain Potsdorf, flying a Valkyr, gave a Viking yell as the attack helicopter planed down at an angle towards small running figures moving out of trenches. It was like a damned video game almost, as he flew and as Lieutenant Ehrlich send a volley of gatling gun fire down, shell cases like a rain of brass around them as they ripped up the attack. He hoped that the Marines below would exploit the little hole he had just made. Elsewhere, his squadron mates were doing the same thing, like great metal wasps attacking an ants' nest.

The Coast

Tacheteberg felt exhultation, and clenched his fist. "Now we have them. I can feel it. Pound them!"
The general order throughout the Lavenrunzian fleet was: concentrate with all efforts upon the Veganan fleet.
The sea was full of blood, oil and bodies. Smoke and fire continued to fill the air as more missiles were jacked up from the depths of ships and send racing towards the enemy. Below them, another submarine, striving towards the enemy forces, was torn open by a depth charge from Amend's ship...the screams of the dying could be heard over sonar as the compartments flooded too fast to be shut.

Commander Hohenloe, her foes dead or fleeing from her own ships' covering anti-aircraft fire, hovered as she watched the planes of her squadron moving in one by one to the carrier. "Fuel gage is low." reported her navigator.
"Understood." she said tensely. Smoke and erratic seas, autocannon rounds and heavy caliber rounds pounding through the air in all directions, missiles and rockets flying hither and thither...it was crazy up in the air, and she clenched her teeth as one of her newer flyers went teetering in to the deck, barely landing upright.

The beach

He felt his body twist as bullets hit his body armor, most glanced away but some went straight through. He knew that those holes were a sign from god and meant liberation for his soul and spirit. He felt no pain, the drugs removed all feelings but hatred and the lust for the enemy’s blood. He was getting closer no, seeing one of his comrades being cut down by heavy fire from one of the choppers auto cannons, the legs of the body still moving another four or five steps towards the enemy before I collapsed with its torso ripped to pieces. He howled his righteous rage as he came close to the enemy, his 50 caliber assault gun feeling feather light in his hands as it spread hot depleted uranium death unto his enemy in front of him as well as above him.

The men watched as the shocktroops stormed towards the enemy. In chess terms it was called a pawn sacrifice. The goal was to pin the enemy down long enough for the artillery to deliver a devastating blow. The men out there knew they would become martyrs in the battle against the enemy, they were even used as target markers. But they didn’t know that eight artillery units were zooming in at the area as they charged. Major Hittills would be amazed if there would be anything alive on that beach after this. He activated the radio and gave the order to start taking out the enemy choppers with their SAM missiles and watched dozens of smoke rays streak the short distance towards the beach. Even as the SAMs roared towards the helicopters he could hear the whistling sound of artillery barrages closing in. He dove to cover in his trench, pressing his body to the ground.

The Coast


The burning carcass of the carrier HMS Godsend started to sink. Not only hit by torpedoes but also by several bombs, it finally had enough. Men came up to the deck and moved towards the edge of the craft, jumping into the water like lemmings over a cliff.

THe now hundred of rafts that were bobbing in the sea, still firing away Katuch and being pressed down beneath the surface watched their job as some of them came up over the surface again. A lot of the crews would never be seen again, being pushed under the waves by the power of the Katyuch. But the whole sky had been darkened by the thousands of rods that had been sent towards the enemy.

The battleships swung their turrets in every where firing wildly at the still numerous targets. There were no people on deck since there were now missiles aiming at the enemy fleet for a second strike. The boats that weren't as heavily armoured as the battleships were mostly burning infernos. But some of the smaller torpedo boats had been considered too small to be bothered or just escaped being hit due to their small size. They were now cruising towards the enemy fleet, firing away missile after missile, it was a charge into the jaws of death since theuy soon would run out of ammunition and get sunk but each missile had power enough to sink a large ship so it might be a good trade off.

They got the reports early, a large enemy contignent on their way towards their valley. A full brigade, with armoured vehicles. They had requested artillery but got the answer that the Artillery was engaged in another sector. They hastily tried to camoflage themselves and braced for impact. It would be a dirty affair, head to head, hand to hand. Only the Inquisitors seemed to relish the thought. Lieutenant Jackson watched the hulking shapes of the Inquisitors moving into position, laughing at the thought of meeting their maker with arms in their hands, fighting heathens. Jackson watched the injector he held in his hand and then saw a single cloud in the sky, moving inland. What a strange shape? He thought. He watched the cloud travel its way over the sky as the tank crew hastily hid their tanks in the trenches. He could hear birds singing and somehow the sound of cannons seemed so far away, so distant. Maybe this was a good day to die he thought as he pressed the injector to his leg and pulled the trigger.

To Syskeyia (encrypted message):

Years ago, our peoples declared their friendship for one another. Today, after intensive and perhaps too lengthy preparation, we wish to honour that friendship. We deeply regret not being able to intervene sooner - it is necessary to gain the direct approval of our people before we can send military assistance to a non-CACE ally. However, now that approval has been given, we will commit a significant portion of our armed forces to your cause.

We pledge three Swarm Carrier groups of the Red Navy to this war [the carriers in question are the PWS Red Dawn, the PWS Revolution and the PWS Rosa Luxemburg], in addition to three land armies [the 6th, 8th and 14th armies of the Red Army]. Also, two of our ion cannons are fully charged and ready to fire. We await your instructions regarding troop deployment, as well as target data for possible ion cannon strikes.

Since we wish to keep the element of surprise, we ask that you treat this message as a strict state secret until our forces enter active combat.

Ever onwards to victory!

- The Council of People's Commissars of the Holy Socialist Republic of Constantinopolis

OOC: When you reply to the above message, tell me where you want me to send my forces, and whether you want me to use my ion cannons (note: they leave big, ugly craters in the countryside).

OOC: No.. ION... Cannons....

Reich space
The massive StreiteKräfte was assembled above the Reich unaware of the strife on the ground. It was beneath them, not only from a technical point of view but also from a philosophical perspective. Sometimes they wondered why they were left out of battles and conflicts but it probable had something to do with the will of God, and who were they to question that. God was after all... Great.

Deep within the Kuiper belt Goliath stirred in his sleep.


Somewhere in the vicinity of Bendecitia

He knew he was dying. The bubbles coming out of the wound in his chest was a sure sign of that. He coughed and watched spittle of blood on his uniform, the stale taste of a blend of iron and salt in his mouth. Shrapnel was buried in his thigh and he could see it sticking out about a decimeter, but it had stopped bleeding now. He knew he was waiting, waiting for God to embrace him and bring him to heaven where he would sit with all the other soldiers of god, killed in battle doing his will. His vision had already started to blur and he was not afraid, more curious about how the life after death would be. He had sent enough men to their deaths to know what a corpse looked like and he was sure that his wouldn’t be a pretty sight. The morphine he had injected was working now and he could feel himself drift into that soft, fluffy being that must be god. He closed his eyes with a smile.

"But Field Marshal! We're on the verge of victory!" the Duke of Montmanuel protested into his communications console in his command tank.

"These orders come direct from the Imperial High Command, Your Grace! You are to fall back from your attack, and to rejoin the expeditionary force, to accompany us to reinforce Portus Navallis." said Kantenouzous' voice through the radio.

"But... but... victory is about to be mine!" Montmanuel protested. His tank shook from a nearby Veganan shell exploding.

"Confirm your orders with Mater then, Your Grace." snarled the Field Marshal. He was sick and tired of this gung-ho aristocrat.

"Oh... very well." Montmanuel conceded. "We'll fall back into formation and join you en-route to Portus Navallis, sir."

"Very good. Kantenouzous out." the Field Marshal said. The radio cut out.

"This is the Duke of Montmanuel to all units!" the Duke started, switching his radio to address all Pantocratorian tanks. "Withdraw and fall back towards the Syskeyian lines. We will rejoin the expeditionary force from there. You've done well, boys, you've done well! So well that... that the High Command thinks we've done enough here. Some come on boys, fallback, the girls in Portus Navallis are waiting for us!"

The Pantocratorian forces immediately started withdrawing from their joint attack with Chimaean forces against the North Star position, falling back first towards the main concentration of Syskeyian forces, and then back to the rest of Pantocratorian expeditionary force, now en-route to Portus Navallis.

OOC: sorry for the long absense, I'm back more now.
--------

"Holy mother of god, they're leaving!"

Kartallozi's head jerked up in astonishment, before barking into his radio, "Tell our tanks to stay!"

He then turned back to the communications console and yelled, "We need urgent anti-tank air-support, repeat, need urgent anti-tank air support! Get those assholes off their filthy bu--"

An explosion rocked the APC and Kartallozi grabbed the console to keep his balance. "Oh, sod this," he muttered. He reached out and flicked on the mass comms to all his soldiers. "Hold tight and secure positions. Air support on the way."

***

Outside, the CAF forces fell into defensive position around the town. Anti-armour explosive rounds were fire en masse whenever it was clear to do so but largely they waited for the familiar roar of fighter aircraft.

Tank shells burst around the town as the Veganan forces regrouped and attacked. The situation was turning desperate.

Montmanuel glanced at his tactical map as his formation withdrew, and observed the desperate situation of the Chimaeans. He reasoned that without him, they were certainly doomed. He cursed his orders from the Imperial High Command, and felt obligated to at least let them know why they were retreating.

"Montmanuel to Kartallozi..." he started into his secure channel radio. "I've received urgent orders to fall back and regroup with other Pantocratorian forces to reinforce Portus Navalis. I'm sorry, monsieur."

The SC-13 Tank-Killer was a slow-moving aircraft designed to provide support for ground forces. It was a propellor-driven aircraft, one of the few propellor models still in service with the Chimaea Air Force, and had the ability to circle tightly over a small target. It wasn't a large aircraft but had powerful motors and was packed with munitions and sensor equipment for needle-strikes.

There were four SC-13s in the air that responded to Kartallozi's call for help, accompanied by six helicopter gunships. As they reached the battle four of the helicopters formed a square around the town and began to draw inwards, picking off targets with their machine guns and rockets. The other two stayed on the edges of the battle, ready to discourage any anti-air fire from the ground.

Kartallozi picked up the Duke's message and sent off a terse but understanding reply, determined to finish off the assault by himself. As the air support came into view he gave the orders for the major attacks on Veganan positions and the town itself. Soon the entire area was a chaos of flames and ordinance, thundering with the sound of powerful weaponry.

Running through the streets in the suburb he hardly had any time to look around. This was not a stroll in the park, anything moving that wasn't Veganian was an enemy. His assault rifle was blasting as he ran straight through a hedge, brushing away the shrubbery with a strong leap, feeling the mixture of adrenaline and Meth speed through his body. Orders being shouted through the internal com unit in his helmet.

His advance suddenly came to a halt as he saw the man, the man with sad big brown eyes, eyes piercing his soul. He swung his rifle towards the man but couldn't bear himself to fire. The man stood there, in the midst of fire and destruction and just looked at him. The man raised his hands as if to greet him, blood dripping from his palms. He wanted to scream at him: -"Get down you fool! They are firing at us!" But no words passed his lips. He watched the man spread his arms as the artillery shells began to fall. A sad smile touched the mans face and suddenly everything felt meaningless. Phosphorous shells exploded and lit up the day in white colours. As he fell to his knees he could no longer see the man.

There was a sound like a train rushing down; General Letz found herself ducking down into her command apc and felt the whole machine rock violently; they were getting hit hard by the artillery; she knew the recon battalion and the first wave must be catching hell.

For the Imperial Marines, their training stated that when attacked they were to counterattack. In any case, it was do or die: conquer or have to flee the beach, likely with many of them becoming bloody corpses in this ground near the enemy fortifications. From what little cover could be gained, fire control officers were crouching, shouting instructions into radio handsets as the infantry fired back and as mortar crews began lobbing shells towards the enemy positions. With bong-thump sounds the mortars began laying down counterfire, while their bigger brothers, the self propelled artillery, who were still in the surf itself, began to roar defiance towards the Veganan lines.

The SAM missiles looked very impressive, and indeed the Fledermauss Helicopters that were moving in with more support forces took hell. One spectacularly was struck in the tail rotor and went whirling down, a menace to enemy and friend alike, smoke pouring from it. The pilot inside was trying to remain calm but the instruments were screaming...
Another exploded right in the air, followed by another, men and women inside for a moment in a searing rush of death. However, the Valkyrs were made of tougher stuff; their dispensed chaff and whirled neatly away like vast metal wasps, evading the attack and sending howling missiles down towards their attackers.

Accompanying the infantry counterattack came rumbling growling Grendel III main battle tanks, spewing diesel and with concentrated booms firing as directed by the AWACs high above.

OOC:

Post in writing for this spot

"Is this still going on?" Gregory sighed heavy as he tossed one of the newspapers he typically read on his desk. The front page article was a report from the ongoing Syskeyian war. Looking around toward his advisors none of them spoke until Gregory asked his next question. "Do you know how this is doing with the opinion polls? A lot of people are wondering why we have yet to help our old ally..with this thing dragging on and those Lavenrunzians getting involved in it the general public here at home feels we need to do something. I want a plan of action. And not just any plan of action, we need to make up for being inactive in this war. I want as much as we can call up on short notice. Understood?"

The lead advisor spoke up, "We'll President-General, we can divert several marine battle groups to the area..but if we want all six to get to the region well then thats going to be a problem. We have three which can arrive within the week, the other three are practically on the otherside of the planet and will take at least four to five week." Santos didnt look pleased at that but it gave him an idea or two on just how to get things done. "Fine, that'll take care of the ground forces...what about our air forces? What can we send to the region?" The advisors went silent..no one had any real clue what could be scrambled up on short notice and Gregory grumbled getting out behind several hushed curses, "The next time we meet I want a plan on deploying fighters to Syskeyia."

Shaking his head he looked over toward his press advisor. "I dont want the press finding out about this until we land in Syskeyia. Hence we're using pre-deployed units. Once the first units land in Syskeyia then we'll begin to move massive amounts of supplies into the nation. Until then just prepare to deploy the equipment and supplies. But no massive deployments. Hell censor the press if you have to. Claim national emergency. Lets see if we cant surprise folks outside of the Syskeyian government. Speaking of which...send a private message to their embassy by foot. Then have the messanger shot after he confirms its been delivered." The meeting moved on into other areas but for the time being3 amphibious battle groups were making their way toward Syskeyia at full speed. With any luck they'd arrive with plenty of time to join the fray before ceasefire talks took place.

"How long Lord! Oh Lord how long must we wait.....the enemies of your majesty grow in number and assail your chosen ones…the horde of darkness assault the light …the barbarians are at the door….Out of the depths we cry to you O lord! O Lord how much longer must we wait before we join this glorious battle! How long before we launch our glorious crusade! We are ready Lord….we are ready….
But Lord, it is your will we obey here, and your servant Jaar....he who leads us wisely in this enterprise....”

Bridgette Iesus. Prayer in Reich Command.

The 175 mm howitzer made a thumping sound and it could be felt in the ground as it began to fire on the Vehicles emerging from the beach. Nicholas was kneeling just beside it as he spoke to HQ in the radio. Several rockets from the David-class anti tank station was swooshing down until they exploded above the enemy tanks trying to destroy the tanks turret by exploding downward instead of by frontal hits. There were only very few Exeon tanks on this flank. This was thought to be a fortified stand, not a moving line. They were well dug in and Nicholas could hear the screams of the poor bastards that had charged out of the trenches. He knew that they probably didn’t feel or thought much but as communication officer he was not using any battle drugs, even if it felt as if he could do with some right now. He had taken a Beta-blocker and he could feel the first nervousness he had felt when they saw the boats from the Lavenrunz fleet close in on the beach slowly fade away.

-“We need more artillery, move curtain towards the sea and move barrage box two hundred meters south centered on coordinates 207,41 and 1163,86.” He got an affirmative over the radio and watched the other people in the trench with him.

There were no Inquisitors in their trench which Nicholas felt was a relief. He never felt at home with those huge gene altered fanatics high on their drugs and their faith. Most men were in their late twenties except one pale looking lad that looked like he was going to vomit any second.

He had seen a lot of air planes pass over them heading for the enemy fleet but none had come back so far. Some confused messages had come over the radio about a tidal wave rising from the sea but he was too old to worry. This was now and he had to focus on his mission. He quickly glanced over the edge of the trench as the soldiers to his left started firing with the heavy machine gun. He didn’t have to look to know what kind of weapon it was. The sound of it was clearly different from the ordinary assault rifles that the shock troops used. It was soon time to use the mines and he was supposed to give the order that would catapult hundreds of steel shrapnel fanning out in a 140 degree arc from hundreds of mines spread all over the beach.

He pressed himself against the wall of the trench again as he heard the unmistakable sound of another artillery barrage closing in.

General Letz was right in the thick of things; beyond the actual beach itself, about a thousand meters up or so, the recon battalion was surely catching hell as were the brigades of Imperial Marines following. The extent of the lines seemed fairly long, and she had given orders to probe for a way around.

The Valkyrs had rained death down on a lot of the crazy bastards rushing out of the trenches, but the main problem was the rocket and artillery batteries that were protected by them. Explosions were pluming up around the advancing armor, where their fire seemed to be concentrated. Blood oil and flesh were littering the sands, and the advance was like walking head first without a hat into a hailstorm, though this storm was deadly.

General Letz could see from the relay from one of the AWACs that the probes were moving far far too slowly. The first barrage aimed at the armor had been shocking and deadly enough to strew the main advance area with burning smouldering hulks and dangerous flashes of the aftermath of fires hitting ammunition; the Imperial Marines around the wreckage were scurrying for what little cover there was. Although now, ironically, there was at least cover of a sort.
She ordered her signals liason to patch her through to the fleet.
"Admiral, the advance units are catching hell. I need air cover. Over." she said.
"You'll have to wait, General. We're achieving air superiority but we still have the fleet to beat." came the cold reply.
"Yes, Admiral."
General Letz sighed inwardly but acted completely calm, as if this was to be expected.

Out to sea, the Imperial Fleet having blown most of the Veganan planes out of the sky began putting everything it had into sinking the Veganans. There was some kind of report about a signal for some kind of armistice, but it wasn't clear and no one really knew who it was from. The navy planes were now moving in relays; as one squadron refuelled another was streaking towards the battleships, launching missile after missile, supported by the barrages of Jormungand anti-ship missiles.

I'd just like to say that this is the absolute best thread I have come across ever. Though ever isn't that long, I've been searching for good examples to learn how to do this for the past, oh, 9 hours. (Yes, I have no life.) I commend you all for your excellent work.

Praise Artemis,
Alexandria
Representative of The Queendom of Amaxonia

As all the Pantocratorian ground forces in Syskeyia fell back to Portus Navalis (a process which took several days), the Imperial High Command directed the expeditionary force's transport fleet to the harbour there. After all the forces were assembled, the Imperial High Command issued a rather unexpected order. In the middle of the night, the Pantocratorian forces embarked their transports, and withdrew from the Syskeyian war. No doubt the Veganans knew the reason.

We promise to follow whatever choice the Veganan government makes- Escalation or peace the islamic people’s army stands ready.
honor to God, honor to jaar.

~Sultan hatusu

Post moved to a new thread (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=443115)

The Syskeyians acted quickly. No sooner had the Pantocratorians begun to withdraw than the XVI Corps started to redeploy, moving to the south/western salient created by the Chimaeans and Pantocratorians, a salient on its way to encircle the city.

It was a hurried yet complete maneuver, with some comparing it to Patton's sending the 3rd Army to Bastogne (albeit with less obstacles and on a smaller scale.) The Corps commander, however, was no "Blood and Guts;" once his troops arrived at the positions that their Pantocratorian allies had left, they dug in; prepared to defend, but also to attack - no way would they let the Veganans take advantage of the cease-fire.

(OOC: A cease-fire was agreed to, or at least talks about a cease-fire. Vegana started the thread somewhere, I might have to find it again. (Hopefully Vegana will want to revive it.) Anyway, just say that the Knootian volunteer stuff happened before the cease-fire.

Ack. Wars are unwieldy. :) )