NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is based after the Haven conference.

The BK22 [Bakutonelov, Shipyard 22] was a submarine. It had only one purpose in life. To destroy. To kill. To maim. The crew were jolly folk, but it could not hide the deadly aura of a submarine designed to hit strategic targets from long range. A purpose it was about to fullfill.

Captain Aleksandrov stood rigid to attention on the bridge of the submarine. The crew were all busy, typing vectors, paths, and whatknot. Aleksandrov had been given a mission three days ago, and he was coming close to completion. The final stage was ready. They had insulted his nation, his people, and they would pay.
They would pay.

The ensign's report woke Aleksandrov from his state of near-sleep.

"Captain, we are approaching Scandavian waters." The journey had been uneventful. The submarine was on anti-piracy orders. Or so, the rest of Haven, or any ship that came near it thought.

"Excellent. Ensign Tu-Swong-Ji, warm up the missiles" Aleksandrov glanced towards the gunnery ensign.

"Sir!" The reply from the Ensign came quickly.
Strategic Missile System online in.. T MINUS TWENTY
Aleksandrov nodded. "Ensign, bring us to declination oh six four nine." The submarine swung around, and dived. "Forwards. Get us in range of Galicia" The ensign did not speak, but he obeyed as the Submarine sneaked fowards in range of the Scandavian metropolis.
Strategic Missile System online in.. T MINUS SIX
Aleksandrov barked orders out like a drill sergeant on his first day of teaching. Rawr. "Send us skyward Ensign" With that said, the Submarine dropped it's ballast tanks and soon it had hit the Haven Strait seawaters. They were black and murky, but also at the same time they were beautiful. The sun was setting, shining on the submarine and making an atmosphere of calmness and setting the scene for what could have been a beautiful backdrop. But not today.
Strategic Missile System online in T MINUS TWO. T MINUS ONE. Ready and prepped
"FIRE!" Aleksandrov shouted, hitting the eardrums of everyone in the room. Ensign Tu Swong Ji obliged, and gracefully the missiles arched out of the VLS systems, all twelve of them set for the city that was Galicia. It was four o clock at night in Scandavian States. They wouldn't know what hit them.
"DIVE! NOW!"
The submarine dropped down, the sunlight spreading all over the spot where it had been, and it continued to drop further.
"Ensign, set us a course for home. And do it quick"
The BK22 set off for home, streaming through the Haven Straits, displacing fish and larger seawater animals alike.

The Tomahawk cruise missile was, by its very nature, a missile that prefered to stay close to the ground. While the missile itself wasn't stealthy by an means, the fact that it often managed to stay below radar made it stealthy de facto. It was this, coupled with the fact that the military forces on the island were looking the entirely wrong way that in the end doomed many thousands of people.

To be sure once the missiles started climbing to avoid crashing into the range of dormant volcanoes on the island their existance was revealed, but their were no missile batteries near enough to do anything about it. The course programmers had been clever, just as a missile battery was about to lock onto the missiles to engage them, the Tomahawks dipped below the radar again. It was frustrating to anybody who knew what was going on, and given the time of night there were preciously few. What was most curious was that the missiles weren't on a track for any of the field army or air bases on West Galicia Isle, but instead they were headed for the capital itself, which had very little military value.

However, not long after it became apparent what had happened. Eleven missiles, one had been shot down in a last-ditch desperation engagement by a battery commander near the city, slammed into two buildings. Those two buildings, skyscrapers that were some of the tallest in a city of tall skyscrapers, shook from the effects of having several tons of high explosives detonate on the face and inside the buildings. Not long after they simply collapsed, the points of impact had weakened the top-heavy buildings to the point that they simple dropped and tilted at the same time under their own weight. The same buildings were like dominoes, they two massive buildings cause the third in a quadruple two collapse. Mercifully, this building simply snapped in as neatly in two as a building could and did so leaning towards the two already-collapsed buildings. The fourth building had not gone down in the dominoe effect, but it was heavily damaged from all the debris and the likelyhood that all of the occupents would evacuate was already nil, dozens were already dead and even if one subtracted them from the equation for that particular building most in the upper floors would not make it out in time.

This occasioned the newly-crowned Empress to be awoken from her sleep, it was New Years day and despite the early time in the morning she had only been asleep for about three hours. It was perhaps not surprising that when one Domingo Chavez, Director of the Internal Security Service, walked into her suite of rooms in the Imperial Palace to tell her of the news her sleep-induced grumpyness turned into a towering rage when the slight Hispanic was done giving the news. Admiral Xavier de Soto, another hispanic of taller and more muscular proportions and husband to the Empress had at the end made a simple declaration, "Jesu Christo."

Domingo simply looked at the larger man and responded, "Si, Senoir."

Lien looked sharply at the head of her internal security and said, "What's the worst case estimate?"

Domingo understood she meant neither material nor economic losses but the cost in human lives, "Assuming, Your Majesty, that this is a total cluster fuck, 100,000 casualties. More likely a maximum of 50,000."

The woman's jaw visibly clenched, "I want to know who the hell did this and I want to know yesterday. I don't give a shit who you have to cajole or torture to find out, you have carte blanche. I have to call in an emergency session of parliment so we can decide how to react to this. As if there's more than one answer."

The obvious, and only answer, was that someone's head was going to be mounted on a wall after the Imperial military tore whatever country was responsible for this to pieces.

Elenpalantír 934 saw it all, tagging the footage for MISSION analysis... it was a horrific attack, the sort that, had it been levelled at a Menelmacari city, Elven wrath would be unparallelled...

The New Haven Socialist Republic sends a larger than usual shipment of ammunition along with an aid package of 4 trillion SUMUs (200 billion dollars)

500,000 rounds of 7.62mm rifle ammunition
50,000 rounds of 30mm AA ammunition
30,000 rounds of 135mm tank ammunition
15,000 500kg bombs

Ooc: can I have a submarine somewhere in the midst of this observing?

<<OOC: Tagged... will respond later. BTW, TIS, 1 trillion SUMUs would be 50 billion euro, not $200 billion since we said 20 SUMUs=1 euro.

[Kelanis, notice my request that nobody become involved on any substantial level? As it is, they snuck up on us, your sub isn't likely to go unnoticed and after this we'd sink any sub in our waters that wasn't ours.]

Official Statement

This unfortunate tragedy, perpetrated by an unseen enemy against an innocent population has filled our nation with both collected hatred of the evil attackers and the thoughts of sympathy and horror for the devastated civilian population in this dark hour.

We have immediately pledged our assistance to the Scandavian people and their government, and as this message is sent, aid packages and rescues teams are being readied and shipped out to help the innocent victims of this attack. Any assistance requested of us shall be rendered without hesitation or remuneration, and we feel that, in these troubling times, that the people of the sovereign nation of the Scandavian States will show their true strength in recovery from this outrage and aggression.

We can only pledge to stand shoulder to shoulder with our brothers to the North, to pay them the respect and support they would undoubtedly give us in similar circumstances. We can only wish them good luck and Godspeed in finding the perpetrators of this attack and bringing them to justice in the most complete and absolute way possible.

This day will be remembered. Our thoughts and prayers are with you.

Rt Hon Theodor S. Barham, PM


OOC: Nice words. Ill keep out of anything unless you ask however.

Empress Lien was tired, for the past eighteen hours she had helped coordinate and direct the efforts to bring aid to those in the Isles who needed it and to find those who had committed one of the most horrible crimes the human race had ever known. The former was going slowly, although the offer from The Freethinkers, one she accepted it, would help greatly. The latter, unbeknownst to her, had all but been solved.

When one Fleet Admiral Sir Sven Jorgenssen walked into the Palace's situation room, came to attention, and bowed, the Empress knew something important had happened. Sven, after all, was the commander of the Bureau of Planning and by extension the commander of the Office of Naval Intelligence. After Lien nodded the Admiral came up to the table, deposited a cream evelope onto the map table, and pulled out what appeared to be some very high resolution photos. Sven looked up and said, "Highness, please tell me what you see here."

The former Fleet Admiral and commander of the Bureau of Weapons, leaned over the table and said, "An SSN of some kind. Not one of ours nor any of our allies in the region, the hull is a pure teardrop. In fact, if I didn't know better..."

She had brought to the top of the pile, which showed the surfaced sub firing three of its missile, "That is a Virginia. Who is God's name uses Virginias? Wait, those are Tomahawks. Who the hell does this sub belong to?"

A slight, almost serene smile came upon Sven's face at that moment. Most would have taken the smile to be one of pleasure, and they would have been right. It was the pleasure of an admiral who had found an elusive enemy fleet, one that was badly outgunned and didn't realize it was about to be destroyed. "The only nation that we have had contact with, Your Highness, that uses that particular combo of sub and missile is Hogsweat. The fact that our LIDAR arays around the Northern Galicia Isles didn't catch any subs trying to exit the region seems to support that theory."

A hard look came over Lien's face, "Sven, I haven't appointed a First Sea Lord yet, for the time being you're it. Your deputy will take care of your duties at BuPlan for the time being. Now, where is my husband?"

"Here love." Xavier answered from behind her.

The Empress turned around, "Xavier, I need you to go to Canton and prepare your fleet for war and I need you to do it tonight."

Now both men had their orders; Sven simply bowed once again and left, Xavier gave his wife a sereing kiss before making his own exit. After taking a few moments to ingrain what could have been the last moment she ever touched or saw her husband, Lien turned towards the staffs from her land forces, "Commandant Kerensky! General Jackson! Come over here immediately!"

"Da, Empress." Answered a soft, female voice with a definate Slavik accent.

General Jackson, a burly, black man who spoke in very proper British accent that almost defied his size replied, "As you wish, Your Highness."

After the commanders of her Marine and Army, respectively, came to her side she said, "I want the both of you to start planning for the invasion of Hogsweat. Any resources you need, you will have. I expect the both of you to have something ready in 48 hours and not a minute more. Oh, and General Jackson? I want my field army in on this. I don't care what other resources you decide to devote, but I want the Empress' Guards in on the invasion, they will deliver my personal wrath."

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

Some hours later, in the light of the torches that surrounded the ancient Templed of Odin's Desciples, Lien stood before the holocams of the region's various news services. She wore a simple, sleeveless, cheongsam; the fabric was made up of a silk that shifted between a dazzling gold and shiny cream solor, upon the front embroidered in blue was a phoenix that symbolized the eternal cycle of life and alluded to the incident in the Isle, on the back was a dragon embroider in the same color that symbolized imperial grace and power. Her hair was done in a half-up bun that on a lot of people would have looked like it was an expediant to keep the hair out of one's eyes while they worked, on Lien it looked nothing but beautiful. She was, despite the tired look in her eye, the very personification of grace and dignity.

After briefly closing her eyes and taking a breath to clear her mind of anything but the task at hand, she looked at the cameras. Then, in a clear voice she spoke, "I would like to begin by thanking one of the Imperium's closest allies, The Freethinkers, for the support they offer and have given. Without them, our task would be so much harder. This attack, this cowardly attack, is as a vicious blow delivered to the back of a person's knees; a sure way to cause temporary pain and to force a person to briefly bend their knees. To be sure, we could eventually stand without any help, but with help we will stand quickly and surely. With help at home, the Empire's wrath abroad shall be swift and sure. There will be no more cowardly and vicious blows to the Imperium's knees.

"The Imperium knows its enemies, even this one. Thanks to the incompetance of the submarine captain who surface his ship to fire the missiles that have felled so many, we know who has committed this cowardly attack. For the time being, we will not name the mass murderers, the Imperium will be content to help its wounded and bury its dead. The Imperium will be content to finish the preparations for the war to come.

"Yes, war. There is no other course the Imperium can take. To the leaders of the nation responsible, rest assured we are not filthy swine such as yourself, we will not crawl in the mud and manure such as you have this day. Your citizens are safe so long as they do not oppose the Imperium's military. However, you are responsible for your nation's actions and you will face the consequences.

"Finally, to the Captain and the crew of the submarine who launched these missiles, pray that you die in battle. In abstentia, you shall be tried by the High Court of the Imperium for the mass murder of Imperial citizens and crimes of war. Should the High Court deign to convinct you and your crew, and should any crew member of the aforementioned submarine be captured, they will face death by beheading. They will die by my hand and the blade of the Sword of the Imperium.

"To the rest of the world, I bid you a good evening and hope that you pray to whatever diety you believe in for the souls of the innocent men, women, and children who were needlessly slaughtered on this day of an Unhappy New Year."

Several men had gathered in the dark war room situated somewhere deep below Iuthia Prima, it was a large room designed for multiple uses such as planning attacks, secret meetings and on the odd occasion... poker. In the middle of the room was a large round table with green felt making the top of it feel smooth. In the background a large tactical screen could be seen for all people seated at the table to view during planning.

"Call"

General "Buck" Turgidson lay down his five cards on the table; three aces and a pair of twos. The other four Iuthians in the room cringed as three of them dropped their hands face down. The last person, the only woman in the room, had already folded and wasn't in the game... she had a bad deal from the start.

"Read them and weep guys; a full house." The Minister of Defence then pulled the mediocre pile of casino chips towards him. Buck wasn't winning over all, but he had just pulled back some of the fake money he had lost.

Business was often too dull for the General these days, when he was younger he hadn't had the chance to take his time; taking orders from the higher ups which often came with urgeant deadines. Back then he was a young man, only just getting used to command in the Iuthian Military, "With great power comes great responsibility" and all that crap. However, these days he found other ways of doing business, having a informal game of poker while talking about the security of the nation may have seemed rather irresponsible to some, but it helped his some the staff to relax while they talked about problems both large and small... though the former was farley rare these days as Iuthia was a rock of stability.

The men around him represented various experts and members of the Iuthian government and military who would be needed to help him reach a decision regarding this latest problem. Three of them Buck knew well: Trade Minister Fred Galwitz - who had first come to him with the concern and was directly invovled, Foriegn Minister Mick Lakely - the diplomatic strongarm of Iuthia whose words carried far and finally Ambassador Maria Cortez - Iuthia's Ambassador to the Scandavian States. The final player in this game of poker was a tall, blond man with a stern appearance and a scar across his face, it had surprised Buck to find out that this man was no longer serving in active military and was more of a military advisor on the SSGN classification of Sub-marines.

Taking a more serious turn, the General started to deal the playing cards out to each of the four players in this game of poker, as he had passed one card out to everyone and begun making the second pass, he started with business.

"Ok, Fred. We all know the basic facts coming out of Scandavian States at this time... an unidentified assailant fired cruise missles on a highly populated civilian area from a target that never appeared on radar. Speculation at this point is irrelevant without sufficient data to back it up." " Buck passed out the final cards, everyone picked up their hands and gave them a cursory look while keeping their eyes on the Minister of Defence. "Analysis of the attack and the information provided by Scandavian states, confirmed by other Haven sources; strongly points to this being the actions of a nation and not a terrorist organisation."

He continued, the game paused for a moment. "Obvicously without the indentity of the attackers we know very little about why the attack took place and what diplomatic action could have been taken to avoid it. However, we do know that many nations, especially those of the Klatch region, have motives for doing so... however we personally feel that nations of the region of Klatch wouldn't hide their hand in such an attack, they would want Scandavian States to know it's them and contary to world opinion the nations of the Klatch region have more honor then to attack like this.

"In anycase, there is no clear motive for the attack and it could be a whole number of nations with a grudge against Scandavian States. We can already see the startings of a Scandavian mobilisation for war... something we also aren't certain of at this early stage, but it seems likely given their temperance." Buck put a pair of cards into the centre of the table and drew two more... soon after the others followed suit with various numbers of cards each. "So... we are left uncertain about our standing on our trade routes to the Scandavians; they will most likely increase their order of raw materials if they are gearing up towards a war and the danger to our vessels will increase drastically should a war be declared... as a neutral nation we can't be sure that an attacker willing to be so cowardly in it's primary strike wouldn't take it's anger out on Iuthian shipping. The question is... where does this leave us?"

There was a pause as everyone concidered what was said... again, the game had stopped for the business at hand. Before long, Fred Galwitz, the Trade Minister commented.

"Well... assuming that the Scandavians will concider our trade rather vital at such a time, it's not hard to imagine they will want to protect our vessels from aggression to ensure they get their supplies. They are fiercely protective of their waters and we could probably convince them to cover costs of protection for such trade vessels without too much hassle..."

Mick Lakely, Iuthia's Foriegn Minister nodded. "They have been understanding in the past and we have a conciderable amount of trade with them since they took advantage of Wolfish's trade slump sometime ago... given this directly involves them I can't see them being too resistant in providing help... however, I prefer that we don't give the attacker the chance to draw Iuthia into the war once this starts. So I would like to concider alternate routes with Scanavian States..."

Buck folded after checking his two cards... he was hoping for a striaght but the cards he got back were worthless. He concidered the comments put forward. "Well, Scandavian States isn't the only nation we trade with... I'm sure that with some work we can send goods to Edolia's Axackal once a war starts and simply transfer goods over a land network... it wouldn't give the enemy a chance to take our Iuthian supplies which would be legitimate targets in a war."

"We'll have to check it with Scandavian States and Edolia... but it's probably one of the safer possibilities. Even if our ships do have to take a longer route..." concluded Mick. Eventually they completed their hand, Maria coming out as the winner of a reasonable pot of fake money... the rest of their conversation covered some more of the detail, but the basic idea seemed to be set, they would continue trading with increased security and then simply find more secure routes should a war start.

((I could put more effort into communication at this point, but basically I'm tired and I think unless SS and Edolia has a problem with this, something I doubt given our good relations with Edolia and our trade's importance to SS, I will assume everything is relatively smooth...))

The Empress had gone to bed after being awake 24 hours in a high-stress environment. Jorgenssen, Jackson, and Kerensky, being veteren officers with many years of military service under their collective belts subsisted with very strong coffee and pastries of various types and flavors. The adrenaline helped as well, but that was secondary in the caffien and glucos-induced roboticism they and their staffs were operating under.

The newest problem, one that was relatively mild compared to the preparations for war, was what to do about the Iuthian trade. Although it had very little military benefit at the moment, it might turn out to be a major pain in the ass for the Imperial Navy to protect. However, it was generally agreed that the iron and titanium were needed for the civilians on the Isles and that it was best to expedite the trade as much as possible. Sven thought about it for a bit and then told the messenger, "Tell the Iuthians, first and foremost, to stay clear of any vessels flying the Hogsweat flag. Also, tell them that while we can't deploy to directly defend their shipping, so long as they are within 4500 kilometers of our northern coastline they'll be protected by friendly cruise missiles, also be sure to give them our general military distress frequency so their shipping can call in any help should they need it. As for where to dock, Helsinki would be closer for them and almost totally secure now that we're on a wartime footing."


[Sorry Iuthia, it's the best that I can do at the moment. Right now there are only my two home fleets that aren't deployed at bases abroad, so I can't give you a convoy escort for your shipping.]

The Free Republic condemns the actions of the perpetrators of the heinous sneak attack upon the Imperium of the Scandavian States. I have asked the Supreme Republican Commander to activate the Joms Guard to aid in rescue and recovery in this tragedy and to help provide defence for the Imperium. Financial aid, if necessary is also offered.

We know that the Imperial Navy may be stretched thin and we would like to offer that the Naval Guard be deployed to keep shipping lanes open in Northern Haven. We know that the Imperium is resilient and will rise to meet this challenge and defeat this enemy.

Scipio Nemaraan, First Republican , Ilek-Vaad

A video message direct from Zenia Marenia's office to the Scandanavia States

Myself and the rest of the country of Yoboland, and the whole of the Yobbite faith, send our deepest condolences. We wish the clear up of damage done to be swift and as painless as can be deemed possible to the families involved. We also hope that the economical damage can be easily repaired.

I understand the attackers have deemed themselves spineless and cowards not owning up to their crimes. This to me shows fear, fear is weak, the weak can be conquered and i know your country will be able to catch and retribute your new enmies.

I hope that you will except aid in the form of heavy construction vehicles and the like to help repair the damage and as we are members of the Osaka Security treaty will send all military assistance necessary.

I sincerely hope that this will ve over presently as death on sucha horribly large scale is ugly indeed.

The Yobbite relgion's prayers are with you... yours Zenai Marenia Lord high chancellor of Yoboland and protector of the Yobbite faith.

The steam rose into the night sky, condensing in the damp air and travelling off to be naturally recycled.
"Comrade, comrade!" The staff sergeant motioned for the logistics officer to come over, which he did at a running pace.
"Whats the matter comrade sergeant?" He asked.
"My detachment is missing a crate of rifles. You expect us to fight with our knives and sidearms comrade?" The staff sergeant looked immensely irritated, and was obviously tired by the black rings underneath his eyes. The logistics officer breathed deep.
"Look, comrade, it's a mess. There have been company's sent off today missing sidearms and grenades. I was promised surplus from HiKom but it hasn't come yet. I've got no idea what the hell's going on. Just go. You'll be restocked at frontline supply depots"

The conductors whistle echoed throughout the bustling Supply Depot as the train steamed away, the cargo truck rumbling as the weapons inside clattered against the musty grey tarpaulin. Just after, a tatra type truck arrived outside the Supply Depot gates, passing in after a brief security check. the driver hopped out, leaving the door open, his automatic carbine bouncing as he dashed towards the Logistics Officer.
"Comrade, your weapons? We have crates of rifles and other small arms here that were told needed giving to-" the driver was cut off in mid speech.
"The last detachment of soldiers left twelve minutes ago, comrade. You were supposed to have been here yesterday." The Logistics Officer sounded angry, and it showed as he spoke.
"Well, we were only given the go ahead about an hour ago. Our station said there was no rush" The driver replied defensively.
"No rush? What the hell are they on about! We needed those weapons and we needed them yesterday!"
"Look, do you want these guns or not?" It was the drivers turn to be mad.
"No.. you better take them where they are needed. I have a roster here of where the units went, take it with you and get their damn guns to them." Th Logistics Officer ordered; after all, he did have an order rank of major. The driver made a hasty salute before turning, grumbling something under his breath.

It was happening all over the country. The rushed mobilisation of soldiers that had been off duty with their families and awaked at two in the morning, and then the later awakening of logistics groups eight hours later meant that resources were not distributed evenly and effectively.. many brigades were going into frontline defensive positions with only a magazine of ammunition, and only a box [8 rounds] of shells per artillery gun, and only five or six rounds per tank. Logistics lines were stretched to deal with the constantly moving supply lines of aircraft and ground forces. All Komsomol and Home Brigade units were sent to their local town hall – today would be a great day for them. They would be issued weapons {mostly bolt action rifles, some semi auto’s) to fight the fascist invader! Propaganda was streaming round their nation that enemy forces had destroyed an aircraft carrier and it’s escorts in the Haven straits, because it was thought to be a “pirate” vessel. The Hogsweatian people, for the most part, were outraged by this statement and were prepared to take up arms or fund the resistance against what was thought to be a fascist aggressor bent on destruction of theirs, and all, soviet states.

Hogsweatian Soldiers wait for trains to come by (http://www.yavneholami.org/images/kotel06.jpg)
Hogsweatian Soldiers during urban manuevres a month ago (http://www.aefdesigns.com/field_photos/idf%20inf%203.jpg)
Hogsweatian Tanks mobilising (http://www.aefdesigns.com/field_photos/merk%27s%206.jpg)

The Empress had awoken a few hours after the message about continuing trade. At the moment she was leaning against the holographic map table, watching live imagery of the hurried and ill-executed mobilization within Hogsweat. Air Martial MacLeod had come into the War Room late, mostly because it had been her branch's fuckup that had allowed the incident at Galicia. Right now, however, the redheaded woman was just quietly watching the imagery and smiling faintly, like she had some barely contained secret that she wanted nothing more than to let out. Finally, looking over to Empress Lien she said, "About now, Empress?"

Lien appeared to think about it for a second and then nodded, not really wanting to say anything at the moment. The screen switched briefly and it became apparent that not only had the view switched to an entirely different satellite, what they were watching had changed as well. An extremely small red dot within the camera's white circle and dot reticle started to expand as the camera zoomed it, it represented the 50 meter CEP of the projectiles that the satellite carried. Then the satellite started ejecting the huge 10" Osmium rods, each time shifting points of aim with inhuman speed and accuracy, it quickly became apparent that the points had be entered beforehand and all the satellite needed was an execution confirmation.

The target for this particular satellite was an airbase; specifically the control toward, taxi points, ammo and fuel dumps, and runways of the airbase. After all, destroying aircraft was of no use if the logistical points of were left unscathed. In total, Hogsweat's 50 primary airbases were targetted, but they were not the highlight of the attack. 2 satellites were tasked with the destruction of the two Doujin class ships of the Hogsweat Navy that were in harbor, these satellites required no radical change in the points of aim, just a smooth line down the length of the massive ships so that the CEPs for each rod overlapped slightly.

#TAG# Hmm...

Somewhere in Kelanis

Strategic Operations Center #J

The bunker was a beehive of activity. From the moment the first Hogsweatian Tomahawk left the water up to the point the Scandavian osmium projectiles were headed for impact, the entire division that ran this monster had been on high alert.

Looking down on it from above, one would not see very much of the bunker, buried as it was in the core of a mountain. Nor could anyone see the clusters of IRBMs in superhardened silos around the base of the mountain. But that's not important.

Nearly three-hundred meters below sea level and protected by just under three thousand meters of solid mountain, this bunker was safe. At least it had been built to stay that way.

The command post was, for all intents and purposes, a completely independent underground city. The bunker warranted its own fusion reactor, which was buried under the entire complex in a solid vanadium/titanium/steel/iridium multilayer shell.

Mounted high above on the peak of the mountain, massive arrays of every sensor and satellite intercept reciever possible dotted the summit. Most of them were covered by domes of snow, but a few antennae poked through. The longest of these antennae was the primary control unit of the installation's KASS, or Kinetic Anti-Satellite System.

Presently this bunker's KASS was not even online, its supercooled yttrium and neodymium magnets removed from the firing chamber. Under normal circumstances, this large cannon could project a solid cobalt-steel slug or iron-shelled sabots with pure titanium penetrator cores (to combat magnetic orbital systems) into orbit at .3 of the speed of light. It had a limited field of fire and was retracted into its shallow defilade to undergo repairs.

The company commander was worried by the lack of antisatellite capability, but reassured himself that the hundreds of antiaircraft gun and missile stations concealed on and around the mountain were working just fine. Coupled with the massive argon-cyanide antiballistic strategic lasers and the small tactical antimissile stations, this place was about as safe as modern science could make it.

On his way to the master control room, also known bitterly as the 'Big Red Button Room', he passed numerous other hallways and forced his way through the crowded corridors of the strategic command center.

From the BRBR, the company commander could initiate the launch of over a thousand intercontinental and intermediate-range ballistic missiles, and put over two gigatons of yield on any spot in Haven in under half an hour.

As he strolled into the room, he noticed the emergency targeting packages for the nations of Scandavian States and Hogsweat had not been touched at all.

This doesn't include us, he told himself.

That said, he accosted the sergeant major responsible for the primary coffee machine, and promptly spilled his cup all over the floor.

The rest of the on-duty command post staff watched the unfolding battle in real time from the orbital recon sats.

There would be fireworks for the new year, after all.

The Republican Council broke for the night, the First Republican headed out of the House of the Republic flanked by the Ministers of Defence anf Foreign Affairs, he turned to the Minister of Foreign Affairs.

"Theleb, any word from the Imperium?"

The Minister shook his head " No sir."

The First Republican turned to the Minister of Defence "Have General Deadmarsh keep the Joms Guard on alert and have the Naval Guard ready, don't do anything unless the Imperium acts. I'm sure they would see any unrequested mobilization to their aid as an act of war so we don't do anything unless they explicitly ask."

They then parted to take care of their various duties.

[Well, part of the reason I haven't replied to your request is that your forces would kind of be on their way out, what with the timestamp on this RP. Given what I intend to pull in addition to that, I don't think you'd be in an especially helping mood.]

OOC: That's what you think, we're staying put, we own tha land, you'll have to evict us!

OOC: Mind if one of my superhaulers gets totally destroyed in the harbor attack?

[No, Ilek-Vaad, you lease the land and if we nullify the agreement then your lease expires. Furthermore, you'll be losing a lot of your manpower once the treaty is voided, because any Imperial citizens serving with the Joms Guard will be recalled to active service. And finally, if we have to force you to leave, not only will you be evicted by the 24 combat divisions just a stone's throw away, you will be in no place to do anything about it, Edolia has given his word on that point.

TIS: The rods have a CEP of 50m, even in the extremely unlikely event that any miss, they won't be veering wildly off course. This was a precision tactical strike and Hogsweat has agreed to treat it like such.]

OOC: Ahh, ok. I'll just stick to my regular shipments then.

Battle Stations! the huge guns of the Doujin class SuperBattleship swivelled and roared in anger as the enemy approached.. at the head of them, Admiral Asban Muhammed!

Asban stirred in his bed, awaking slowly. Bah.. just a dream. Asban was a 22 year old Sailor, who just ten seconds ago was snoring loudly in his bunk. However- there had been a reason for his early waking. The red klaxon in his room was blaring and screaming at him. Although it did not have a voice, it seemed to scream; Get up, get up! Go! He knew what had happened. Glancing around quickly, he picked up the picture of his young wife and his two toddlers, smiling affectionately before tossing it in a duffbag and dashing outside.

The rod had smashed straight through the upper decks of the ship, right down, and out the bottom. HNV Apple Pie was sinking! Asban rushed to the top of the ship, past other sailors doing likewise and the Deck Captain ushering everyone above. As he sniffed the fresh sea air, Asban heard the rotor blades of helicopters. Chinooks, giant things, incoming from the Hogs Island. The Admiral shouted over the microphone from the still intact bridge;
"Sailors of the Union! We have been attacked today by an evil enemy force bent on destruction of our Soviet State! The cowards attacked with space based weaponry, disabling our ability to fight. But remember, we shall always resist! Never shall we let the evil fascist destroy our Motherland. Sailors of the Union, we shall have victory!"

The chinooks began to lower, dropping rope ladders as desperate sailors clung on and climbed up. However, it wasn't going so well for those stuck underneath the water as they urgently tried to escape, the murky waters rose, and rose, and rose.

OOC: Gtg to school soon. Just imagine that 'same happened to the other one.

Air Martial MacLeod smiled in vindication. Half a trillion dollars worth a shipping, just two ships, was sinking after being struck by under a million dollars worth of metal. To know what was happening was one thing, but to actually see it was almost like biting into a sweet and juicy pear. Empress Lien caught her eye and then said, "An excellent job, Air Martial. Your people are as good at gunnery as I have ever seen, now let's see what your pilots can do. Put the 5th Air Force on alert and make preparations for a strike against the enemy fleet.

"Admiral Sorenssen, let Xavier know that he has release to move his fleet to the first waypoint. If Ainsley's bombers draw the commie fleet out, I want him prepared to finish the job.

"General Jackson and Commandant Kerensky, I would like an update if you please," was Lien's final order.

The General that looked like he was carved out of a massive slap of onyx replied, "We have a preliminary plan, Your Highness. The Imperial Army will contribute the Empress' Guards to this offensive while the Marines will be using the I and II Corps. This means there will be 16 combat divisions and the Guards will also be bringing four support divisions. Our plan calls for a mass amphibious assault against thier capital, the Marines will land first to force an opening with their hover armour and infantry and then the Guards will constitute the second wave that will open up that hole for good.

"Neither one of us believe that they will surrender just because we try to checkmate them in one move. Speaking in chess terms, Highness, what they will likely do is Castle in order to prevent any true advancement to the home row. In real terms what this means is that they will trade whatever units are at the city and the city itself so the people behind the government are spared. So long as the government refuses to surrender and so long as they are alive, the Hogsweatian military will not stop fighting. In other words, we cannot count on mass surrenders to hamper their military effort."

Lien nodded as if to accept this at face value and then turned to a rather... lrage man. He was extremely tall and his build made him look like he might be able to tear apart a tank with his bare hands. He shaved his head, but if he had allowed his hair to grow out his hair color would have resembled coppery-red flames. There were tattoos of Scandinavian origin that covered one entire arm and although Lien couldn't see them she knew that they extended over his shoulder to cover half of his chest and an entire shoulder blade. He was a thoroughly intimidating man, yet those who he counted as friends knew that he was an extremely smart person who had a sharp wit and a ready smile, in the right company. Now, he was all business and the completely neutral expression showed it.

"Empress, I believe we can take out their governmen well before there is even a single marine or soldier on Pig soil. As you know, the Gehenna class' main gun have a maximum range of roughly 750 kilometers. You also know the Imperial Armed Forces played around with the idea of plasma warheads for various things before abandoning the idea as overly expensive. However we have kept a small stock of the experiemental warheads for some rainy day, I believe that rainy day has come. Under my authorization your husband's flagship was loaded with a full salvo of 30" scramjet shells with plasma warheads. Given the size of the shells and the properties of the warheads, I am confident that if such a salvo was fired against the Pig capital building would either penetrate or burn through any level of protection." Anders Sorensen, the Director of the Special Collection Service, not only sounded confident, his tone of voice indicated he was downright hopeful.

In response Lien waved her hand to indicate she was fine with the idea, but then again she was so angry with those abomidable monsters she would have been fine with the suggestion that a full salvo of Garm be fired at the capital building to be followed up with a savlo of Fenris. "I assume you have something else as well?"

Now the overly large commando/spy grinned and nodded like he was being asked if he would like to open his Christmas presents early, "Yes, we've deduced that the Pig ambassador Vilitov was at the very least partially responsible for the war and the strike against Galicia. I want permission to send a team in to take care of the problem."

What wasn't said was what everyone who knew about the SCS, and its Covert Action Teams, knew that its standard metod of problem solving was best left unspoken. A six-man team would penetrate Pig space by way of stealth helicopter, zipline down ropes, and break into the house of the target as quietly as possible. Once inside they would move immediately to the target's bedroom, kill him and anyone else inside the room. Because of the ammunition that was used, there would be rather large entry wounds that the SCS team would take advantage of by placing time-delayed grenades filled with Fenris gas. Then, they would comb through the house and repeat as necessary and then leave just as stealthily. An hour later the gas would be released the the person(s) converted into a messy, bloody, gelatinous goo that along with extremely small bullet fragments would be the only evidence left that fould play had been involved. Of course, SCS teams were noted for leaving notes behind to mock the leaders of the country that had drawn the SCS' collective wrath.

"I don't like this one bit."
Admiral Istnovic whispered. The Hogsweatian Homeland defense navy, both Flotillas, was slinking slowly southward from the ports of Hogsingrad and Bakutonolev.
"I know, I know, but it must be done. Now, radio silence" The calming voice of Admiral Howitz came back over the intercom.
"Why are we using radio silence anyway? It's not like the Scandavians are monitoring our exact words" the Rear Admiral sardonically remarked.
"Shssh..."

The two fleets sailed south, their rudder's cutting through the beautifully glistening water of the Haven straits. Harriers from the Aircraft Carriers majestically soared through the clouds. It looked magnificent. In a military way of course...But in other ways. The ships were clean and shining, and as very few crew were present on deck, indeed it was seemly ghostly. However, in all it's radiance, this fleet could not possibly stop the Scandavian Naval Forces. It would be almost suicidal. Instead, retreat to the southern outpost, and combining their efforts with the Southern and Western Defense Fleets, maybe, just maybe, they stood a chance.

"That's what you think, buddy." Muttered the Imperial Navy warrant officer.

"What's that, Stefan?" His commander, a Lieutenant fresh out of the Academy, asked.

The ONI watchman turned around and said, "This Hogsweatian Admiral thinks we can't hear him. The idiots don't even use burst transmission, they just talk out in the open. They might as well be screaming."

The corners of the Lieutenant's mouth twitched just a little and he ordered, "Send the new triangulation to the trackers. If they keep sending radio signals out into the open. Personally I think they're heading towards Chukraine."

The warrant officer, as all decent warrant officers would, saw an opertunity to make some money on the side, "If you would care to make a wager, sir, 10 Imperials says they go to their South Haven outpost."

The Lieutenant, to young and inexperience to know otherwise, took the bait and set himself up for a minor fleecing, "You have yourself a bet, Stefan."

The Island States will be shipping the following to Hogsweat over the next few weeks to help sustain their war efforts:

1,500 SULT-01 (Tank Destroyer Variants)
---------------------------------------
Weaponry: 135mm Tank Gun, 1 coaxial 7.62mm machine gun
Maximum Speed: 100 - 120 km/h
Range: 800 km
Max. Combat Weight: 24,500 kg.
Amphibious (max. water speed of 8 kph/must weight less than 18,000 kg)
---------------------------------------

1,500 ISMA-01 Icestorm 155mm Self-Propelled Artillery (based on RL "Paladin")

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

300 IST-02E1 Snowstorm Electronic Warfare Variant Tanks

Subject: Hogsweatian Aggression

In an apparent move that has shocked the world, Hogsweat has been revealed to be responsible for the murder of tens of thousands of innocent Scandavian lives. This action cannot be excused, and no excuse may render the forgiveness of the Erasat. The Imperium has been extremely supportive of our nation in the past, and we shall honor their friendliness. Though we cannot provide military aid, we are prepared to issue the following decree to Hogsweat:

The Luin Anarórë**-Hogsweat border is hereby closed to all civilian and military traffic. The Etaran Marine Force shall immediately begin a systematic blockage of all roads and countryside along the border between Hogsweat and Luin Anarórë. Any citizen of Hogsweat caught crossing the border will be immediately arrested. A series of profile data will be collected from the citizen, and they will then be detained. If the same citizen is caught twice, they will find themselves locked in the most infamous of Etaran prisons.

The matter of using Etaran territory as a staging ground for Scandavian forces is currently out of the question, because the Erasat does not wish to see itself caught in a conflict of such high magnitude. All trade with Hogsweat has been suspended for the time being, and we hope that a peaceful end will come to this terrible tragedy.

Etaran Ministry of Foreign Affairs

OOC:

** -- Luin Anarórë is the new name that has been given to the territory of Lietuveska in this timeframe, which is immediately after the Ilek-Vaad Crisis (for me, at least).

To: Hogsweat
From: New Haven

New Haven is interested in sending observers to your country in order to observe the conflict that is now underway. They will only be there to watch, and will not fight on either side but reserve the right to defend themselves if it all goes south. We will be sending six sergeants, two lieutenants, a colonel and a general to observe the conflict. Please contact us soon, as we will send them with our arms shipments.

To: New Haven
From: Hogsweat
This is affirmative. Send your guys down ASAP.

OOC- Sorry for crappy post, I REALLY don't feel like writing at the mo.

The labour camps outside Hogsweat were full. There were no conventional prisons in the sense of the word- rather, convicts were used for economical purposes. In death they served the union, for in Hogsweat a convict was a very bad thing to be. They toiled away, day after day, for some purpose such as breaking rocks or making screws. If there was a faulty screw - the whole section would be beaten. This is how it was, and how it had always been. Crime was at an all time low. "progressive social policies" the UN called it; Often UN inspectors went back with nice new cars or a huge plasma screen TV. But what happened that day, fourth of january, in Dorsalgrad Camps #One, Two, Three, and Four, should, and will, never be forgotten. It was a misty day that early morning; perfect for a crime that Hogsweat had always been opposed to.

4 AM, Camp One
The automated gun turrets recognised IFF. This was state of the art technology. It was pretty clever actually; the turrets recognised the prisoners by a tag they wore around their necks, a steel emplacement. If it was removed it was recorded and the prisoner was executed. All a guard would have to do is turn the turret to; Kill. And it would slaughter every convict in the camp. The little camera could see the guard walking round, rapping on the doors of the encampment. The prisoners coming outside after a quick stretch, their eyes blanketed by sleep. The sergeant was standing on a podium in front of the neatly arranged, (or at least on the outside) row of cramped bunkhouses.
"Convicts of the Union" He spat the word convict out, like the insult it was.
"Today is your day." The convicts were being lined up while the man spoke, the soldiers patrolling back and forth, their carbines ready and clicked on automatic.
"You will serve the Homecountry. You will serve it well." as the word Homecountry was said, the soldiers scattered for cover as the Captain jumped behind the podium when the sentence was finished. A man in every tower; their hands moved almost slowly- it took an eternity for all there, as they new what was happening - to the button.
Kill.
The 7.62mm guns roared, cutting the convicts down in swathes. None of the soldiers looked, but someone would have to clean up the mess. The convicts lay dead on the floor. And in the other camps. The crimson blood of their corpses soaked into the sand like water into a towel. Two hundred thousand in all, counting all camps.

10 AM; Government Statement to the World
Citizens of the Union; of the USR; of the freeworld.
Today, the nation of Hogsweat has been brutally attacked by Scandavian States in a strike that killed 200,000 Hogsweatian Citizens. Scandavian States assaulted the Soviet Union after a claim of which they have no hard evidence. This strike has meant only one thing - The new Scandavian Government is a government of warmongering, a Government that disregards human life in their vile attempt to rid Scialism from the world. We shall not stand for this. At this moment, of 10:04, I, Head of State of the Soviet Union of Hogsweat, hereby declare that a state of war exists between the countries of Hogsweat and Scandavian States. We shall fight to the very end. We shall fight them in the sea, in the sky, in the cities, in the villages, in the hills, and in the snow. We shall fight them whereever they appear next to show their Imperialism. We shall always fight, until the death. As of this moment, I hereby order that the Defend The Motherland! Act is to be initiated. Comrades, not one step back. We shall defend each grain of soil, each handful of snow, each piece of bark of every tree of this glorious nation. Even if it means destroying this sacred ground, we shall not let the fascist enemy rape and pillage our homecountry. Fight always, to the end, to the death, comrades.
Victory to the Union.

Superhauler "Redemption"; New Haven Logistical Naval Forces
----------------------------------------------------------

General Thompson, the same man from the Haven Conference, and his entourage of officers and non-commissioned officers, were on their way to Hogsweat to evaluate the war from the perspective of their comrades. New Haven considered this war to be a testing ground for its older hardware for now, with newer hardware being modified for use in the Hogsweatian Air Force. Of course, the General wasn't coming to offer technology or assistance, they were just there to watch (their green observer armbands standing out from the black uniforms they wore).

The transmission from the dictator of Hogsweat was noted with some amusement, recorded, and forwarded to the Great Scarlet Fleet, commanded by one Fleet Admiral Xavier de Soto. "Attention all crews, attention all crews, this is Admiral de Soto speaking. The dictator of Hogsweat has some words of encouragement for his country, I will play them for you now." After the message had played, then admiral continued, "In case some of you are harboring any doubts, I say this; The word of the Empress, the word of my wife, is iron bound. While I do not doubt for a moment that some people have died, indeed the number might very well be in the thousands, I can say with great confidence that very few Hogsweatian civilians died in our strikes and if any did it was because they were on the property of the Hogsweatian military.

"Furthermore, there will be no fight between the ships of the Imperial Navy and the Hogsweatian Navy. They flee like frightened pigs from the slaughterer, they flee to the south where their numbers are greater. While I would love nothing more than to pursue them, we will not because our goal is the preparation for the invasion of the Hogsweat mainland. Very shortly, that mission will begin."

Having said his bit too all of the crews of his fleet, he turned to his Flag Communications Officer, "Lieutenant, signal all appropriate ships to begin round the clock CAPs immediately, get our patrol off the deck first so we can begin the bombardment."

As de Soto had commanded, the aircraft took off first. If the aircraft had waited for the main guns of the dreadnaught and superdreadnaught to take off, the risk would have been too great that they would have been hit wit a shell or otherwise destroyed by fire from friendly gun crews. So fighters took off from every Morrigan class CVN and the Gehenna class SDV, some 52 aircraft, and began their patrols. Once the aircraft were high enough, the guns of the dreadnaughts and superdreadnaughts slowly slewed and angled so they could begin their fire missions.

As one, at a range of 525 kilometers, the large Imperial Navy fleet dealt a hammer blow to the nation of Hogsweat. Each ship turret was assigned a specific grid in which targets already outlined in the computers of the turrets were to be destroyed. For the most part, the turrets on the twelve ships of the fleet's Battle Squadrons would fire a gun, adjust their azimuth and elevation slightly, and then fire the next gun; it was all a perfectly orchestrated balance of absolute power and refined timing. The Tartarus, however, had a different mission. Its initial target was one building, the capital building of Hogsweat, and to that building it dedicated its small load of plasma shells. After the guns had their azimuth and elevation, the bombardment of that hated building began; a gun would fire its loaded plasma shell, then the next gun down the line would fire fifteen seconds later, and so on until all 20 of its 30" ETCs had fire upon that building in a blatant assassination attempt.

In the next three days, every militarily viable target would be hit and hit again until the assault fleet now departing from Helsinki arrived, its cargo of troops covered by half of the destroyer screen of the Great White Fleet.

"This is flight three to control tower, we are fueled and ready."

"Copy that flight three, you are clear for launch. Vectors locked in. Your patrol path is being given to you now."

"Copy that control tower."

Flight Leader Woan In-Jan flicked the switch as the Mirage was moving steadily forward, another behind him. Across on the airfield where two more slowly accelerating. The beautiful airfield was situated behind Dorsalgrad, one of the very few that survived the initial attacks. Soon, the four aircraft where up in the air. They were armed lightly, with only their cannon and four of the MICA missiles each. The four planes flew up into the air, gaining altitude quickly. The four 88mm Flak operators chewed cigarettes and engaged in friendly banter. Little did they know that the friendly, easy going, men of Three Flight, Harikiri Squadron, Volunteer Air Guard, would never be returning to the mess hall.

They gained altitude and flew over at 18,000 feet over the city. Even at that height the thunderous roar of the Scandavian guns could be heard, the crash they made against the bunker defences, and the vain attempt that the Hogsweatian guns were making to retaliate.

"Wouldn't like to be down there." One of the pilots remarked idly over the intercom.

"Rather them than the Scandavian's when we're finished with them" Woan In-Jan replied. There were several laughs. Not so longer later, they hit 38,000 feet. Lazily, for half an hour they flew laterally, listening to Radio Dorsalgrad. It was the national anthem that was playing when the planes flew to the final 39,000.

Get up, the giant country,
Get up for mortal fight
With Fascist horde uncounted,
With forces of the night

It was coming up to Woan's favourite part when he finally accelerated and then hit 40,000 feet.

"Hail comrade," General Thompson said as he and his men approached a Hogsweatian officer sixty kilometers inland. "We were only able to deliver nine-hundred tank destroyers before the Scandavians took control of the waters out there. Our superhaulers are heading back, and they are not returning. We're going to try aerospace transport down to the surface, but thats going to be tricker. The best we can do is six tank destroyers per orbital drop by Maurader Mk. II, but it should be enough. We're working on modifying our "Twin-Tail" Type 22 Gunship for use in your airforce, but we have to retrofit older equipment to them. Once they're ready, we'll send them as well. By the looks of things, comrade, you're going to need it."

To: Hogsweat
From: New Haven

We can complete our lend-lease shipment in 14 days, 5 to load both of our aerospace armed traders with all of the tanks, then 9 days to get them all down by dropship. Thats not including any problems we'll potentially face.

Overall, once the war is complete, your lend-lease payment at this point will be between 15 and 20 billion dollars.

Captain Aralov saluted as the general arrived. Behind him, his Logistics Group was putting the finishing touches to a new airfield.
"Right." he said as General Thompson told him, a simple Logistics Captain, what the situation was.
"I see. Tell you what.. my boys are pretty much done here. If you want, we can take a chopper to the capital and you can talk to the Government. There's a Kamov running on the tarmac. Shall we go, Comrade?"
At that moment, a man with the rank of Corporal jogged up.
"Captain, what shall I do with all these tanks?" The corporal gestured to the growing line of Tank Destroyers that was accumulating at their position. The Captain made a gesture to the Islander General as if to say [i]hang on a second. He turned to face the Corporal.
"Comrade, redirect them to the back lines. They can be part of the 44th Corp."
"Yessir, Comrade Captain"
The Corporal ran over to whoever was directing the Tank Destroyers and made a gesture for them to drive them over behind the lines to be part of the new Army Corp. Aralov turned back to Thompson.
"Right Comrade, shall we get going?"

"Yes, Comrade, let's get going," Thompson replied, smoking an Islander-made cigar. "We need to get permission to be in the combat zones, and we need to let your government know that we're here as observers and possibly, if your government asks me and my government approves, an advisor. At that point, however, my entourage would serve as the observers and I would have to remove my observer band. Hopefully however, that is not necessary, eh Comrade?"

Encrypted Communique to Hogsweat

Ave.

Comrades, we are here for you in your time of need. We hope to aid you in your plight against the Fascists. We currently have, as discussed before, five regiments of Su-36 Imperators ready for transport into Hogsweat. We will send them armed. Our embassy in Hogsweat, as you should undoubtedly find out soon, has several weapon designs which we are giving to you. They include the AA-13 Apostle Air-to-Air missile, and the MiG-28 Flounder. If there are any weapons you might need, we have AK-74s ready for transport (Approx. 135,800), along with OTs-33 "Pernach" automatic pistols (Approx. 75,000), and RPG-7s (Approx. 20,000). Other weapons can be shipped if needed. Please, comrades, just ask. If you need vehicles we have stock of tanks and other vehicles ready to be dropped into Hogsweat. Mainly, 200 T-90s and 600 BMD-3s.

Peace and Solidarity,

Jabir Yusuf
People's Commissar of War

* * *


Premier Muhammad Declares Nuetrality!

Today Premier Hasan Muhammad has declared Halladi nuetrality in the Hogsweatian-Scandinavian conflict. Muhammad refused to comment on who he favored, merely saying, "the stronger nation will prevail." People's Commissar of War Jabir Yusuf did, however, state his support for Hogsweat. "It is my hope," Jabir said, "and my belief that the People of Hogsweat will prevail over the fascist invader. Fight on, my comrades!"

The Halladi government has not called for a show of Solidarity with the Hogsweatian people, but several important officials from the Commissariat of War have called out for a show of Solidarity by wearing a small patch of the Hogsweatian flag on their shirt sleve. Since this call an estimated 1,800,000 people have came out to show support. And, more are espected to rally.

OFIZIALÖSSA DECRATIN DES D'OMNAEUS ERASAT DES ETAROS ET DEO DOZCRENATTI DES ËCHANOR

Lato meri celebaros lates vulons dor miseranomos Etaro dolosimanator....

That any party that wishes to derail Etaran prosperity shall receive the full wrath of the Etaran government, its people, and corporations. Derailing Etaran prosperity is defined as:

· Blocking Etaran merchant vessels from free travel over international waters.

· Boarding Etaran merchant/military vessels over international waters.

· Attacking Etaran merchant/military vessels over international waters.

· Seeking to impede the progress of Etaran merchant/military vessels over international waters, such as detours when there is no immediate threat. The only exceptions that shall be made to this are in such cases where the offending government has blocked all shipment and/or where the offending government has valid reason, be it conflict of allies, piracy, or other such reasons.

· Intentionally harming Etaran merchant/military vessels in the goal to impede progress. Such harm can be defined as physical or mental/psychological.

This definition includes, but is not strictly limited to, the above interpretations.

Though war is currently raging in Haven despite our efforts to pursue peace, the Erasat fully expects and demands that no changes will be seen in our trading habits, save the obvious upsets with interacting parties. The Omnaeus Erasat absolutely will not tolerate foreign aggression upon our ships that legally traverse across international waters. Let this doctrine be a statement to Haven nations currently embroiled in war, whether it be our friends or no. Also let it be an everlasting statement to nations worldwide, for this doctrine shall not be limited to the Scandavian-Hogsweat War alone.

It is our sincere hope that peace and stability will return to Haven as quickly as it escaped our grasp. The Erasat is unforgiving of those who intend to wreak havoc upon regions in which we are located, and issues the following decree:

· The border closing along the Hogsweat-Luin Anarórë border shall remained closed until the government of Hogsweat sees either of the following:

1. New leadership dedicated to peace, stability, and the general ideals of capitalism.
2. A promise from the government of Hogsweat that it shall never attack another nation’s people or civilian assets without sufficient reason.

This decree shall be binding until the Erasat sees fit to remove it.

May innocent lives be saved, may the war machine be stopped in it’s tracks. And as the great Erasito Ëtaros Eledhwen has declared in the past, may all governments "Do what is right, what is good for your people."

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v86/Matt2003/NS%20Stuff/echanor.png
Ëchanor Eledhwen
Magistrate of Luin Anarórë
Heir to the Throne of the Omnaeus Erasat
Son of Ëtaros Eledhwen

OFFICALLY RECOGNISED STATEMENT OF THE SOVEREIGN GOVERNMENT OF HOGSWEAT
http://nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/hogsweat.jpg
The government of Hogsweat deplores the actions taken by the oppressive nation that is Etaros. You have proved that your depravity knows no bounds. It seems that at every quarter we are hounded by these nations that make exploitation their primary aim in a futile attempt to rid the glory of Socialism from this world; The Etaran government evidently prides themselves on their annihalation of an equal environment. At every corner we are accused of attacking Scandavian civilians. It must come to the attention of the world now that we would never use such dastardly acts to wage war on a nation. It is unfortunate we cannot say the same about the Scandavians, as civilian dead from their latest bombardments of our capital city raises into the hundreds. We shall reply to your statements with a simple nay, for you cannot suppress Socialism.

[Hmm, how have the bombardments been doing?]

Lt. Commander Bjorn Baldarssen grinned as his RIO, Radar Intercept Officer, relayed information on a flight of four enemy fighters. He flipped his comms to burst transmission and then said, "Alright Ares Squadron, listen up. We have four bogeys bearing 045 relative, let's bring them to 010 relative and then form up."

A few seconds later the F-107s had made the turn and the pilots from the twelve aircraft were sounding off to let the Commander know that they were ready. Next, Bjorn ordered, "As soon as they cross to 000 relative, each of you are to put one missile each into that formation, they should be at 60 kilometers, which for the rookies in this squadron that are shitting themselves right now at the prospect of combat means that they should be 20 kilometers within the meximum range of our missiles.

"Ares 1, 2, 3, and 4 are the designated knife fighters on this one. Listen up newbies, I don't want you to wait to see if there is a kill, count off five seconds and then follow the missiles straight in, we don't want to give them time to get away."

As soon as the Hogsweatian pilots had brought them to a relative bearing of 0 degrees all twelve fighters fired a single missile, as ordered. The 4 rookies were the designated hitters for this CAP and even if they didn't bring the timing off with the finesse of the more experienced pilots, they made up for it in eagerness when they followed in the missiles to "clean up the trash."

Press Release; Executive Office of the Impërator
January 12, 2015 Edolian Reckoning
“Edolians, Havenites, people of the world. Communists and capitalists. A war rages in Haven today. Like any war, it has caused much pain, and already tens of thousands of civilians lie dead in the Scandavian States and in Hogsweat. Many more will soon die, and I fear that the ravages of this war will be with us for generations. Regardless of who is the victor, and who the vanquished, the destruction of this unnecessary conflict will be so great that all shall feel its consequences.

The causes for this conflict are numerous and difficult to pinpoint. Grave accusations have been leveled against both parties. However, regardless of the gravity of the accusations, no war should be fought unless peace is impossible.

I come before you now to ask, nay, beg, for an end to this war. I speak not as the ruler of the Scarlet Empire, but as an old man who has seen too much war already and cannot bear to see more. Edölia has fought four wars with Allanea, suffered a civil war, battles with Melkor and countless other, lesser enemies. We know the cost of war and it is great.

I therefore offer the city of Tetelburg, which lies near the Hogsweat border, as a neutral site for peace negotiations, when they take place. We have shown ourselves to be gracious hosts, willing and ready to please our guests, and we hope that this can be proven again, as soon as possible.

I also wish to ask that fellow members of the Union of Socialist Republics remain neutral in this conflict. It does not benefit us to get involved in this war between foreign states, and it can only cause more problems for our future relations with the Imperium and other Haven states. Although we cannot enforce this request, I have asked for delegates to the USR Parliament from Edölia to make a motion restricting arms shipments and other support for either side.

I must also announce that we closed the Hogsweat border, as well as the Scandavian-Axackali, border to the Hogsweatian and Scandavian militaries. Refugees and merchants will, as always be welcome in the Scarlet Empire, but any military personnel will be apprehended at the border and their equipment confiscated.”
Impërator Erik von Blätterschplitt
Lord of the Impërium Socialistum Edoliä

Off in Na-Na Land

Approximately 5 miles outside Hogsweatian territorial waters, central Haven Straits

01:22:31 Zulu; IGS Egress

The Egress was one of the most potent covert intelligence gathering ships ever constructed. Although hugely expensive and nearly useless in the midst of a shooting war, the Egress had the ability to collect data on every aspect of the battlefield for miles around, allowing the battlespace commander to spot nearly all orbital, air, surface, and subsurface contacts within its effective sensory radius.

The Egress had only one sister ship which had yet to be completed, christened, and launched. The Egress didn't have a class designation, either.

The biggest problem with this type of ship was its size. The sheer volume of intelligence-gathering equipment aboard dictated that it displace nearly as much as a standard light Amherst-class patrol frigate- 3,500 tons fully laden. She also carried a length of 290 feet, a beam of about 30 feet, and a draft of 20 feet.

To the untrained eye, she looked a lot like a small oil tanker- her conning tower at the stern of the ship. However, the tower was sleek and modern-looking. A larger-than-normal navigation radar and weather sensors operated atop the tower.

The foredeck was empty and smooth, except for a large wooden crate that sat over the aftmost width of it. At the bow, two tall crates sat adjacent in the middle of the deck, at the last wide point until it tapers into the prow.

The wooden foredeck was crisscrossed by large hatches which were plainly visible- perfectly normal for an oil tanker. These WOULD be the access panels to the oil tanks, but this ship carried no oil tanks.

False plating and graceful steel coverings gave the ship the perfect look and feel of a civilian oiler. Long antennae were folded down along the length of the ship's decksides. Four huge 'searchlights' were mounted on turrets at the four corners of the flat deck.

She could only make about 21 knots and was burdened by a bow spherical sonar mount and two different towed arrays, but at low speeds she was quite silent. And she was fully nuclear powered.

Hidden under the large boxes on the foredecks rested the primary Aryss II ULPI surface and air search radar dome, which could detect and track nearly anything out to 500 kilometers. It was extremely powerful and frequency-agile, able to defeat most stealth technologies. Thankfully, it was rarely used-despite the ULPI nature of the radar, its being on was terrifying to the crew. If it was detected, its power and signature would instantly give it away as high-power search radar.

The smaller hidden dome in front of it was the ship's Tiamat E tactical OTH backscatter radar. Despite having a very narrow lane of detection ability and restricted to ranges greater than 500 kilometers, it could detect incoming missiles, aircraft, and ships unlucky enough to be highlighted by it at over 700 kilometers- if the conditions permitted.

Hidden under those hatches on the deck, mounted on hydraulic lift platforms, were massive extendable arrays of monster antennae and sensors. Those sensors could locate search radars from well beyond their maximum ranges, intercept communications at any radio frequency with ease, detect and localize radar jamming sources, and generate many jamming patterns. The ship could even analyze weather patterns. Doppler imaging and point-defense radar domes were mounted around the ship, but they weren't suspicious looking and thus weren't hidden.

LADAR had been fully integrated on this ship as well, and the ship was equipped to laser-flash enemy satellites to disrupt their systems. High-gain antennae could detect communications transmitted by backscatter and even out into space.

Under the waves, the Egress could hear enemy subsurface forces easily. A short 150 towed hydrophone array and a huge 650 meter UWAA (Ultra Wide Aperture Array) thin-line that could rapidly triangulate a single sonar contact. The Egress had powerful low, medium, and high-frequency active sonars as well as minehunting VHF sonars.

All of these sensors poured their data into the ship's dedicated supercomputer system and sifted and collated it so the ship's elite crew could make sense of it all in the huge CIC.

Of course, no ship like this would be completely unarmed. The Egress had a towed torpedo decoy and two hull-tubes for decoys, chaff rockets, powerful jammers, four well-concealed 30mm 6-barrel CIWS, plenty of SA-14E hand-held missiles, a large array of small-arms, SA-N-11 command-guided anti-missile missiles, and even a few SA-N-6E horizontal launch long-range SAMs. Those four 'searchlights' were actually multi-megawatt argon-cyanide point-defense lasers that could stop an incoming missile dead in its tracks.

What was the Egress doing this close to the battle? Nothing active as of yet- although the powerful sensors of the Scandavian Fleet had been picked up, weakly.

And she would continue doing nothing.

Let noble anger of the soul
Get boiled as a wave.
The people’s war, the holy war.
We’ll fight until the grave.

The second verse came through the radio, In-Jan not really focusing all that much on what was happening. The rhombus that the planes formed was suddenly broken, as four missiles streamed into the plane next to In-Jan, blowing it to shards, a few pieces of broken metal flinging themselves from the explosion. In-Jan's reflexes took over from anger, as he realised they had been ambushed. Another trio of missiles came down behind him, onto the plane tailing his own... with the same effect as the previous Mirage. He jerked his joystick sharply to the left, as the plane banked hard, evading the two missiles that had been designated for it by bare inches. In-Jan knew there was nothing he could do; the other remaining Hogsweatian was skilled, but not skilled enough. He adeptly dodged two of the missiles, before the last smacked straight into his tail, the Mirage spiraling to the ground, thick smoke belching from it's burning rear. In-Jan had no time to check if the pilot was alive and ejected safely. The anger tensing up inside him, was finally released, as he spun around his plane knowing there where four Scandavian planes flying in after him, the blips keeping on track according to his radar. The music kept playing.

We will not let the darkened wings
Fly over Motherland.
The native country spacious fields
Are not for fiend's extend.

As his plane turned; it appeared the Scandavians were caught by surprise. They did not expect this pilot to have survived the initial salvo. With unparrelled rage he dialed in controls and no sooner than a split second had passed before he saw that Target Locked had flashed on the screen and he pulled on the trigger before four of the MICA missiles whooshed out from the Mirage, dead ahead for the lead F107. In-Jan turned his plane around and rushed for home.

The four newbie pilots had been just a tad too enthusiastic, a tad to sure of their skills, and one of them had been a tad too unlucky. The Radar Intercept Officers in three of the fighters were veterans, they knew what the surviving enemy Mirage was doing well before he did it and warned their pilots while turning the fiber-optic radar cancellation system to full efficiency. That would reduce the life of some of the radio-light converters, but better the equipment have a shorter life than the men inside the equipment having their lives abruptly cut short. One fighter, the one whose pilot was designated Ares 1, had a newbie RIO in the aircraft who was fresh out of the Naval Air Corp Academy just like the pilot, and even if his technical skills and book learning were better than the veteran RIOs, his lack of experience proved fatal.

So it was that on one fine day, one Lieutenant Joaquim Michaels died in combat. When his funeral came, his casket would be empty and the only posthumous decarations his parents would recieve would two ribbons; one the white, tyrian scarlet, and red-orange that designated his participation in combat during the Hogsweatian campaign and the other a solid black ribbon with a small Imperial Eagle that designated that Joaquim had died in his service to the crown. To be sure his death had more meaning than would ever be acknowledged, his death was the signal to begin the total destruction of the Hogsweatian Air Force.

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

Operation: Icarus was best described with an oxymoron, a precision carpet bombing campaign. Bombers from the 5th Air Force, those based on West Galicia Isle, would have the mission of bombing the Hogsweatian capital of Dorsalgrad into a manufacturing Iron Age. It was a fitting revenge for Lt. Michaels.

The five wings of B-106 Warcrows were the first to take off, at about 4 PM Galician time. Their mission was simple, use long-range cruise missiles to take out any radars powerful enough to pose a serious threat to the larger Imperial Air Force bombers. The trip to the launch point was a little under 2 hours for the medium bombers, even using only their supercruise capability. At roughly 600 kilometers each bomber let loose twenty-four Fasthawk cruise missiles; each missile was armed with a 907 kilogram warhead and was guided by GPS and TERCOM for most of the trip, but the missiles would use radiation homing to detect and guide the missiles to the Hogsweatian radars. The TERCOM was important for this mission, because the missiles would be coming in at roughly 15 meters above ground level and any mistakes made by the altimeter would be fatal for the missile if it did not have the TERCOM to keep watch and adjust altitude as needed. So it was with little fanfare and much surprise that the missiles quickly gained altitude once they reached a programmed coordinate, searching for radar sources either within Dorsalgrad itself or on the island that served as the shore defenses for Dorsalgrad.

--

Not long after that came the B-101s, appropriately called the Bombardier. Unlike the Warcrows, who had come in with all their bombers and mass launched cruise missiles to make sure they killed their targets in one go, the Bombardiers would be going for a far more subtle approach now that it was safe to do so. Each wing was assigned a sector; north-west, south-west, south-east, north-east, and island. Because of the fact that the Bombardier had long legs, even with a full load, they could loiter for long periods of time when their targets were well short of the point of no return. That is exactly what 60 bombers from each wing did while the other twelve went forward to draw the first real blood of the war for the Imperial Air Force. The first wave came in at Angels 40, found their targets according to their list and GPS coordinates, then verified the targets by cross-checking them with satellite telemetry, after which the missiles were programmed with appropriate coordinates, and then released.

The SSM-2B ALCM weighed approximately 2,000 kilograms and the B-101 could carry twenty at full load. The warhead for all versions was a tad over 900 kilos, although the type varied with the mission. In the case of the 2B, the warhead was classified as a Shallow Penetration Warhead, which meant it could penetrate up to 15 feet of reinforced concrete before its large warhead exploded, rendering all but the largest or most armoured targets into so much debris. The targets in this case represented every militarily important part of Dorsalgrad; every major factory, shipyard, and base. Manned defenses such as bunkers weren't actively targetted, although the JSC wouldn't complain if some were unintentionally destroyed by the blasts and debris created by the targets blowing up or collapsing.

The 12 bomber runs would be continued until the target list was depleted or the bombers had to return home due to a lack of fuel and munitions.

--

The final wings of bombers came in early in the morning, at a time jokingly referred to a 0'Dark Thirty by some in the military. The huge bombers were stealthy enough, when they did not mount pylons and had their radar cancellations systems off, that they appeared to be much smaller aircraft than they really were. This run was even simpler than the those the two previous types of bombers had done, in fact it harkened back to the days of WWII and the massive strategic bombing campaigns.

Two wings were charged with the purpose of making the island that protected Dorsalgrad from assault into nothing more than a geological feature. The manner in which the Imperial Air Force would go about this was perhaps massive overkill and just a tad cruel, but after Galicia nobody even pretended to care. The final sortie of Operation: Icarus began when two wings of bombers dropped over 13,000 tons of napalm and thermite incendiary weapons on Dorsalgrad Island.

The shore defenses protecting Dorsalgrad proper were spared the hellfire of the military installation that was Dorsalgrad Island, but they were not spared the ferocity of the bombing. For them, over 20,000 tons of high explosive bombs dropped from the sky and pounded the defenses below. There was no question about it, Icarus was now about massive and serious overkill, but the IAF wanted the Pigs to know what they had loosed from Pandora's Box with their folley.

"Doppler shift, multiple changes in source aspect from Romeos Two and Three. New signal has masked the target. Probable ARM strike against radar positions Romeo Two and Three."

The Egress's captain eyed the bulkhead speaker with annoyance, as the Cyclops automated battlespace controller system spoke to him in its deadpan voice.

"Captain, new EAM recieved on THF channel Sierra-1. This ship is being ordered into Hogsweatian territorial waters for further intelligence gathering."

Just great.

All was quiet in the UWHASDE; Underground West Hogsweat Advanced Strategic Defense Executive. Five hundred metres underground, the UWHASDE was the centre of all Hogsweatian Strategic Operations, the place where Generals met and battles where monitored. At this moment, on the Radar Defense Monitor there were sixty eight radar stations dotted about for the west of Hogsweat - the map showed contours and cities and other geographical positions. The radar where marked with a luminous red dot that flashed. If it stayed flashing, then nothing was being detected from that station. If it wasn't.. then the station was detecting bogeys. There were no gaps in the system.

Next to the Radar Defense Monitor there was the Ballistic Defense Monitor; which with it's hundreds of small scale monitoring stations could pick up anything from a minor cruise missile to a full scale ballistic missile attack. Pullistov, the BDM operator, looked uncertain. There was a huge thermal flare group, off Dorsalgrad.. He leaned over and poked the Radar Defense Monitor, while pressing the PRINT button.

"Oi, Briansky, just take a look at this..."

Briansky leaned over and glared at the BDM screen.

"Can't say I see anyth- oh... shit... better warn em."

Briansky tapped in some controls, and received the watching path of the radar. There were quite alot of very fast moving dots.. he smiled. IR was a very good idea indeed.. but no. The missiles were erratic. He sent out the warning and hoped for the best, then gave a situation report to control.

Generally, each radar had two LAMSs - Laser Anti Missile Systems - but they were extremely old, and many were disfunctional because of Defense Budget lacking in the Missile Defense area. As the missiles swept towards the stations, the LAMS where supposed to pick up the missiles and hopefully the forward LAMS of the system would scan and destroy the missile - however, it didn't exactly work. When the warning went out the LAMS, usually hidden underground, where supposed to pop up from a trapdoor and begin the defense sequence. However, the rust had stopped the sequence for a lot of the LAMS and as the ones that did pop up where running low on battery power and would probably not work. The system did a grand job when the missiles arrived – saving four stations, but the disrepair of the anti-missile systems was evident as sixteen out of the twenty Dorsalgrad Radar System Stations and GPS Relay stations were knocked out of action in a single Scandavian raid.

OOC- a little bit of fluff never did anyone any harm, eh?

HOGSWEATIAN MILITARY TELEGRAM
http://nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/hogsweat.jpg

Dear Comrades Mr/Mrs Sashenkov
We deeply regret to inform you at this time, that your son, Fjodor Sashankov, was killed in action on the sixth of January, 2005, age 22. He died fighting against the Fascist hordes that overwhelmed his position with tremendous firepower. He gave the ultimate sacrifice he could give; his life ;in defense of the sacred soil that he died upon that unfortunate day.

Enclosed is your £55,000 compensation slip. It is little compared to anguish of Comrade Fjodor's death but in these times of war it must be understood that all soldiers of the Coalition must be prepared to lay down their lives in defense of the Motherland, and your son has done this; and for it we are proud of him and we salute him. The Hogsweatian Soviet Coalition is eternally grateful.
There is a Regimental funeral on the 18th of February. Enclosed also are the neccessary passes for this occasion.
-Signed, Boris Pskovsky, Minister for Defense

The city burned. The hundreds of arms factories ablaze throughout the city lit up the night sky with many shades of yellow, orange, red, and thick black smoke. In it's own way it was almost beautiful.. had it not crippled the ability to create essential war materiel. By the morning, and the afternoon that day, the smoke had clogged the sky and the tank and arms factories lay in ruins. But that was not all -
The massive, vital military base in Dorsalgrad, containing living quarters for troops and supply depots for tanks and vehicles was hit, rendering it useless as the factories. The strike was devastatingly effective, but it had missed out one single point; that the Hogsweatian Army would not think twice about using the streets and the civilian buildings for defensive purposes or living quarters.

The fight would not end until victory belonged to the Soviet Coalition Republics of Hogsweat.

Captain Jonas Powell viewed the burning city through his binoculars, watching as ammunition and supplies cooked off in the cool night air. He passed off his binoculars to Staff Sergeant Charles "Bingo" Sutton. "Its a damn shame we can't do anything but watch, eh Comrade Captain?" Sutton asked as Powell handed him a cigarette. "Thank you, Comrade Captain."

"Any time, Comrade Sergeant," Powell replied. "Yeah, it is a damn shame. It is a primary duty of ours to keep the revolution alive, and here we are watching the fascists begin to take it apart." He puffed on the cigarette lightly, making sure to keep the burning tip behind his hand. "We'd better get ready to move out tomorrow, maybe we'll actually get to report something back to the General."

OOC: Fluff requested from Hogsweat. :)

IC:

Halladi International Postal Service

Hail Comrade!

I’m not sure if you know who I am, but in Hallad I am a well-respected soldier. A General in the Halladi Red Army, and I’ve taken a particular interest in the bravery of you Hogsweatians fighting in Dorsalgrad. You are one of many brave souls who are fighting for your motherland, no doubt. The courage you’ve shown has been beyond that anything I have done, or anything most soldiers I know have done.

Believe me, I would send an army to Hogsweat if I could. Fight along side even the lowly of soldiers, but I cannot. I simply offer you support. If I were there I’d give you a speech, a lecture. Boosting morale is all I can really hope to do. So, allow me to do so.

Comrade, I can imagine the hardships you are going through. War is like that, and once you’ve been through a war you seem to expect things to go for the worse. I was in a war once, but it was nothing like what you’re doing. You’re defending from invasion. The Fascist enemy is yards away from you. You can see his face, and killing him will be hard. But you must look beyond the man, toward the good that comes from his death. When you kill a man, whether it is today, or tomorrow, or the day after, don’t despair. He died so that you might live. And when you charge the enemy lines, when your comrades are dying all around you, don’t despair. They died so that Hogsweat might live. And if you should find yourself in a field hospital, don’t despair. Your wounds are superficial; you can fight again on another day.

Are you afraid of death? I hope not. You must face the fact that you will die. It’s merely a matter of when Allah takes you to paradise. And, rest assured that you would go to Paradise. If you die in combat you will be a hero. You won’t die in vain. But, I hope you live. I hope you live for many years, I hope you have many children. And I hope your children will have half as much courage as you.

Peace and Solidarity,

Fellah Rima
Commander of the Republican Guard
Umbar, Hallad

International Flight 38, Halladrim to Dorsalgrad

Comrade General Fellah Rima has getting her wish. Recent talks with the Hogsweatian government brought up the issue of Tactical Advisors. Rima and her staff now boarded a A130 plane bound for Dorsalgrad. The flight would take six hours. Luckily they had the entire plane to themselves. Not many Halladi found themselves bound for Dorsalgrad these days.

Her staff consisted of 10 men. Her, one other general, two majors, two captains, a lieutenant, a radioman of Sergeant rank, and two body guards. They were all veterans of the Republican Guard and graduates of the Halladrim Military Academy.

The flight was easy, they had two meals before they prepared for their entrance into Hogsweatian airspace. First they had to pass through the Scandavian blockade.

"Comrades, please return to your seat and buckle your seatbelts as we are about to enter Hogsweatian airspace."

The twelve plane squadron moved up into the air swiftly as the blip was detected on one of the surviving radar. The Airforce was taking no chances numberwise. The fully armed Mirage's were slightly relieved as they found that the aircraft was only a civilian craft, Halladi in fact. The captain opened a comuncations channel.

"Halladi aircraft, this is Captain Tulemonskyov of the Hogsweatian airforce speaking to you. There are no available spaces in Dorsalgrad to land. Please redirect your flight to Hurskev where the interim government is operating. Do you have fuel for this flight, over?"

"Roger that, comrades. We do have the fuel to make it." There was a pause. "We've redirected our course."

The plane did was was instructed. They were still three hours from their destination, and they hoped the rest of the ride would go smoothly. The last thing they needed was an incident in Hogsweat.

"Alright Comrade, unfortunately we cannot spare any escorts at this time. You may be joined by Home Guard airforce units on the way to Hurskev. Peace and Solidarity comrade. Over."

The Halladi's would not talk to the captain again. His crew neither. They too would fall, sometime in this war, to the Scandavian air superiority.

"Alright comrades, best of luck." The pilot said.

Three hours and twenty one minutes later they were over Hurskev.

"Ground control, this is Halladi flight 38, Halladrim to Dorsalgrad. We were redirected here and request permission to land, over." The pilot said.

In the comparment there was a sigh of relief, they were close to landing. General Rima was eager to meet the soldiers who had recieved her letter. As a tactical advisor she wouldn't be fighting unless she was attacked. Officially she was only a observer and was going to be joined by a Halladi film crew to personify this more.

"Alright Flight 38.. we have a space for you in the runway."

The Halladi pilots could easily see the runway was chocablock with aircraft, and helicopters, and soldiers. As they landed in the small space, General Spesteklev was ready to meet them in the foye of the extremely busy airport.

Massive manufacturing dyes were being moved around a large aerospace plant outside of Asherton City, engineers running back and forth with blueprints for a new export version of the Type 22 "Twin-Tail" Gunship, made for Hogsweat, and 30 of them would be shipped by Maurader Mk.II in the coming weeks:


Twin Tail(PM)-class Export Gunship (75 meters long):
Based on Zepplin-Manufacturer's Type 22

Weapons:

1 Foward-Facing Chaingun (30mm DU round/GAU-8 equvalent)
6 Anti-Tank Missiles (Maverick-equivalent)
2 Anti-Ship Missiles (Harpoon-equivalent)
2 Anti-Fighter missiles (AIM-120-equivalent)

Post-Modern Gunship Armor
Low Profile
2 officer crew
Atmospheric Flight Only
Capable of Hover Flight

Ooc: Tag

The Halladi plan banked for it's landing. With an almost abrupt stop the plane landed. General Rima and her staff exited the craft, and were surprised to find Hogsweatian officials waiting to greet her. She had assumed that there were flocks of Tactical Advisors going to Hogsweat and that she was one with-in a crowd.

Dorsalgrad Island was a heavily fortified island, with a chain of bunkers and anti air defenses, two airbases, and one military base. The military base housed a brigade of the Dorsalgrad Defense Division, the 88th Dorsalgrad Artillery Brigade. The Dorsalgrad Division was a seperate Division, not belonging to the Army, but it was better trained and it's main duty was to defend Dorsalgrad from land invasions.

Most of the guns where positioned in the bunkers, and around the two small forests of the island, which was also a bad mistake. As West Hogsweat didn't receive the dense snow that the East did, the forests where at this time rather dry. One of the Artillery Regiments, and one of the MRLS regiments where stationed around the forests, as where their logistics departments and the supply depots where based.
Bad move.
As the napalm and incendaries dropped on the concentrated ammo and artillery, literal hell was let loose on Dorsalgrad Island. The fire crackled the forests, the smoke being even worse than on the city itself. Citizens in the city could see the smoke - soldiers tried to keep a curfew in place for morale purposes but people could even sniff the smoke from their houses on the bank.
But that was nothing.
The fires soon spread - the dry forest bedding had caught alight too fast for the regiments to do anything, and while they where packing up the fire was moving towards them. Finally, the raging inferno consumed the supply depots and gigantic chain reaction followed. the missiles and shells detonated, as did everything, down to the last handgun shell. The inferno greatened, as did the smoke, and it absorbed the artillery regiments, cutting through them like so much rice paper.
Death had struck that day, in Dorsalgrad Island. The two regiments, and their 2,000 strong logistics unit, including 180 trucks, had been annihalated. but that was not all. The bombs had also spread across the dry ground, setting alight train stations, the fuel on the airbases, and supply depots all over the island. The military base was a burning ruin, although army firefighters toiled over the night incessently in attempt to save the base. In total, almost 250 billion worth of essential war materiel was destroyed. Because of this any dreams to formulate a relatively strong resistance on the island where quashed.

Talia Dortmund checked her makeup and her hair before the executive plane carrying the INS crew and the observers from the Ministry of War. It was a party of about ten Lavenrunzians.
The plane set down with permission at Hurskev airport. Prominent on the side was the crowned leopard emblem of the Empire.
A bright eyed, pixyish woman with fair hair and rather full lips, Talia almost bumped into General von Baden, who had been sent as the senior observer. The tall broad shouldered officer smiled and said, "Ladies first, of course."
"Why thank you, General." she said, slightly shyly but with a discreet admiration. Talia wondered, secretly, why he was there...after all, he was a high ranking officer, and it was obvious that as a former Mirbach supporter he was persona non grata. The Empress had been sending a lot of them abroad lately...

He was in the cabin of the transport ship. As the ship nosed around the bow of other convoy ships, he rammed his hat low on his head and pulled his jacket tighter around him. The captain and the rest of the crew did not appear to notice him. They had been ordered not to hear or see. The plan he made with the goverment was the safest under the circumstances. He had agreed to ship the tanks to Lethislavania; it would be smuggled through the northern passage and rush past the blockade downstream to the end of an island, where the Lethislavanians would ship it to the government and they'd put the tanks into service immediately on the frontlines. It was of paramount importance that no one see him or the convoy dealing with the government in the meantime. He was waiting for the convoy to to spot land, and take the long route and sneak into Lethislavania from the devious waterways. He kept worrying, submarine patrols, or possibly a nearby carrier; the convoy would be easy pickings. Stake on a contingency; a gamble for money and for relations with the government. Either win both, or lose both and the convoy.

"You think the Lethislavanians can ship it?"

He laughed gently. "Well, the blockade neatly stops any advance, but they can afford to use whatever means possible. It's a war, survival depends on anything and everything you can do. Historically, blockades are meant to be broken." His mind jumped ahead rapidly elsewhere. The more the Council was involved in this, the more it hampered the basic plan--to supply the government with ammunition, supplies, weaponry. The stronger the government was, assisted, the better the Council becomes in their eyes. However, he nor the Council can afford interference when we're on the threshold of success. In the stillness of the room he sighed deeply. His eyes saw the bejeweled crucifix that hung at his chest. He prayed silently. Then he ordered his companion to fetch him his laptop. Then, alone once more, he split himself int the three persons that a councilor must simultaneously be. First, a ruler, a statesman with all his power implied and seen. Second, the militant guardian of the Council. And last, a simple man with a simple desire to live.

He settled back in his chair and let those facets of himself argue one with another on the Council's actions here. And he listened to them.

[You know, for a closed RP this thread is awfully active with people who aren't supposed to be here. Especially considering that the only such person I've given permission outside of Hogsweat to be here is TIS.]


It was finally time to start the war for real, time to take Dorsalgrad and start the advance north. Half of the great fleet slipped from the main body and started closing in to Dorsalgrad, with many LHDs and other assault ships bringing up the rear. The first to enter Dorsalgrad Bay, however, were the three flotillas of destroyers, mutually supporting and protecting each other from any kind of attack.

If one were to look at the formation from the sky, one could potentially be reminded of a crude representation of lips. The shallow curve upwards were the Hunter-Killer Destroyers looking for subs, the straight line the Guided Missile Destroyers waiting for any kind of surface attack, and the curve downwards were the Escort Destroyers scanning the skies for any enemy craft.

Aboard the HIMS Centaur, the flagship of the task group, a report startled Flag Captain Antonia Perez was startled out of her thoughts, "DHKN-027 reports subsurface contact 355 relative her position, range 20 miles."

Antonia thought for a second then ordered, "Range to Dorsalgrad Island?"

A Senoir Grade Lieutenant manning the flag plot referened the hologram and then replied, "15 miles, ma'am."

She nodded and then said, "Order the task group to split evenly into two elements, we're going to try to envelope this damn thing. Also, order all destroyers to have at least one of their helos doing ASW watch at all times with another ready to go at a moment's notice. I want a kill to show for our efforts, damnit."

The Submarine was staying underwater, until it had clearance for the crew to leave. Aleksandrov was getting edgy. Surely they could leave quicker! He didn't want to stick around until the Scandavian fleet came. He had been educated in Naval Academy in Foreign Fleets - the Scandavian had been one of them. He knew that if the Scandavian's sent in Destroyers to sweep the area then he would be doomed. However, he stuck close to the shore defenses.. for now.

OOC: Pardon if I interfere, but I assumed that since this is Hogsweat's affair I had thought that he had the right to allow someone into the roleplay. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm sorry for intruding and as such assume that the post is the first and last post I'll have for the thread. No more. That will be all, thank you.

[Hogsweat invited TIS, the difference is TIS actually contacted me and asked me for an okay before he began to RP.]

*****Secret Encrypted Communique*****

To: Ministry of Defence, Scandavian States
From : Ministry of Defence, Ilek-Vaad

The Republican Council and Retaliatory Guard Command have authorized the Imperium to use and deploy the Joms Guard as they see fit for the duration of hosilities with the Nation of Hogsweat.

Please co-ordinate your actions through Foreign Guard General Deadmarsh, and he will see to it that the Joms Guard deploy as is decided necessary by your military planners.

We hope that they can be of some assistance to your forces, though we seriously doubt that Hogsweat can stand up to even a tenth of your might.

William Issem, Minister of Defence, Ilek-Vaad

**********

"Ma'am, both task groups are sending in LIDAR telemetry, subsurface contact is confirmed. Do we tag it as a hostile?" asked the Lieutenant in charge of her Flag Plot.

Antonia didn't even have to think about it, "Yes. My compliments to the Captain of the Morningstar and instruct him to open fire. Also, please tell Captain Banderas that taking the contact alive would be preferrable, but let's not dally."

The Lieutenant nodded, "Aye, Ma'am."

Not more than a couple minutes later DHKN-37 Morningstar became the first Sabre class Hunter-Killer Destroyer to fire shots in anger. Compared to what some Imperial destroyers had fired in the past, the four anti-submarine rockets were a measley show of force. The warheads were small depth charges that were set to detonate only close enough to rattle the sub and perhaps pop a few pipes, just enough to make a sub commander seriously contemplate calling it a day and surfacing his ship for boarding. Not that Captain Perez expect the enemy commander to give up so easily; whatever the Hogsweatians were, they weren't cowards.

The explosions rocked the submarine slightly, only so much as to warn the captain like the Scandavian's had intended. Minor hull damage reported. The submarine was on it's own.. two other of the class where in docking, uncrewed, except for two Type 28 DDG's that were floating around preparing for the Scandavian Advance. The crew were skeleton, the vessels NGV Bizon and NGV Extrema were prepared to fight - to sell their lives dearly for what may be only a several hours time for the motherland to bring forth it's mighty power to retaliate. The submarine detached itself, and in fact it seemed it would rather fight alongside NGV Bizon and NGV Extrema than die at the hands of a Scandavian executor. The motherland had called, and Aleksandrov would answer. Victory in death. Absolution in destruction.

"Ensign, prepare torpedo tubes A through D. Get ten of the tomohawks ready for firing."

"Roger skipper, patching through to gunnery."

"Good work. Communications, bring me up the Bizon and the Extrema."

"Consider it done skipper" the man typed in some commands, and voices came through the machine.

Captain Astra, NGV Bizon reporting.
Captain Pukon, NGV Extrema reporting.

"Gentlemen. I can see we are outnumbered, even outgunned. But I have a plan. In co-ordination with land batteries, maybe we can buy some time. Now this is what I am going to do...."

The Twenty quad barreled tube weapons of the Patriot class anti surface missiles loaded themselves automatically, with the guidance of a few engineers, and aimed the missiles at the first Scandavian ship, acheiving a lock and preparing the missiles for fire at any moment.

The eight Harrier AV8B's of Sexton squadron were able to get up in the air at any moment, operating from the town square which was now clear of civilians, home guard soldiers with shoulder mounted anti air weapons having taken the area over.

"Ma'am, several destroyers are reporting that their over-the-horizon radars are picking up surface contacts around the peer." Tactical reported.

A slim eyebrow rose slightly, "One has to wonder how the IAF bombers missed a pair of warships. No bother, are our contacts strong enough for targetting?"

"No ma'am, OTH radar cannot lock onto ships at this time, tracking only. We can, however, link the gunnery system through the OTH radar and target the ships that way." The Lieutenant replied.

"Very well, make it so. Comms, relay to all ships: Manuever by divisions to unmask all guns and prepare to open fire on my command." Ordered Antonia.

"Captain, message sent. All ships acknowledge order and are manuevering to unmask guns." Comms replied.

Captain Perez nodded. "Tac, are we in position yet?"

The Lieutenant paused for a second and then said, "Yes."

"Comms, relay all ships: Open fire." The order was like a whipcrack, swift and sharp. In that moment ninety 6" guns fired SCRAMjet shells upon the destroyers, it was enough firepower to completely obliterate a mile stretch of beach and it was trained on two small destroyers.

The submarine was not forgotten of course, the Hunter-Killer Destroyers still tracked it and waited for it to uncover itself to be pounded into submission. However, at the moment the greatest threat were the destroyers and thus they were on the recieving end of all the attention for the time being.

The shells slammed into the first of the destroyers, the NGB Extrema, ten of the shells slammed into the Extrema ripping apart the hull, water flooding in. Another ten hit the hull in the same place alongside, causing major hull damage and damage to the helicopter pad. While the ship went down, the last twenty four Patriot missiles whooshed out of their tubes towards the Scandavian ships. This was the premature signal for the Virginia Submarine to fire ten of it's tomohawks against the first Scandavian Destroyer, approximately three seconds after they were fired the Virginia Class fired tubes A through D of the 21" torpedo tubes, with a direct lock against the first Destroyer, the torpedo tubes reloading automatically and preparing for another volley.

On the shore, the Missiles also fired, a total of eighty patriot missiles screaming at their full speed, nearly 1 mach, against the first Sabre. In fifty two seconds precisely another volley would be ready to fire against the invaders.

The Extrema was in a bad shape after the twenty shells but nothing changed, in fact it got worse, after another twenty shells crashed into the superstructure the whole ship was burning and nothing could be done to save it. it was crippled and moving at a pathetic speed of around 3 knots, it moved in front of the Bizon, in a split second it had taken a further fifteen hits and the back of the ship simply exploding in a huge fireball, the back of the ship ripping apart completely and sinking. The water had pumped to the top, and the Extrema was basically underwater as another ten of the shells hit home, smacking into what was left and destroying it completely. There was nothing left, barely, of the Extrema as it hit the dock floor. The Bizon moved at full speed to the right, towards the docks, as five of the shells missed, the other five wrecking the helicopter pad and the back of the ship, barely hitting the engines. The Bizon moved quickly, as more of the shells fell on it hitting the hull and the lower superstructure. Some, only a few, where hit by CIWS but it was not enough to stop the fire from the ships, and although the Bizon too launched 24 Patriot SSM's towards the first Sabre destroyer, before another set of the shells sunk it completely towards the ground. In the time that had taken, several teams with 14.5mm guns had set up on the ruined beach defences and were aiming towards where the destroyers might come.. in a few seconds the Shore patriot's were reloaded and another eighty missiles hurtled towards the Scandavian fleet. The Submarine was retreating to the dock.. Aleksandrov attempting to get away before he could be captured or killed.

Concentrated on one ship the fire would have been impressive, but there were 54 destroyers in Task Force 1.1 and they all reacted as if the fire threatened the group as a whole. Computers took over automated defenses as the ships sped up and began manuevering to not only unmask as many CAMDS as possible but to increase the possibility of a miss should any missiles get through.

It was not to be, though. There were more CAMDS mounts than missiles launched and the coputer-coordinated point defense spit out missile and bullet alike to slap down the incoming missiles. To be sure there were some close calls, points in time where it looked like a gap in the point defenses might have presented itself, but the computers quickly compensated.

The torpedoes were the greatest threat to the ships, but the Task Force had its own underwater point defenses in the form of supercav railguns. The limited range meant that the DHKN flotilla leader nearly had to defend itself and if it weren't for the disciplined formation-keeping the Sabre class ship would have been in trouble. However, the torps were efficiently, if not quickly, dispatched.

Retaliation came in the form of 18 Seahawk SSMs launched from tactical VLS tubes. An internal booster motor kicked the missiles upward until they were clear of the ship, and then the SCRAMjets roared to life and the missiles dove until they nearly tough the surface of the sea. At Mach 4 they came at the half-sunked destroyer, with only several dozen miles seperating the Task Force from the enemy ship it would only take a few seconds for the missiles to reach the beached ship.

The last CIWS on the vessel roared furiously, knocking out a single missile, an amazing feat, but it did nothing to save the vessel. The Captain watched from the shore, his sailors sniffing as they saw their vessel, their ship, smashed up by a salvo of Scandavian missiles. There would be vengeance.
Blood vengeance.

West Dorsalgrad Island

"Yes Comrade. A doujin. Sunk"

The General grunted. There wasn't much resistance left here. The Soviet Army had been bombed into the ground, smashed from the air. The Scandavian cowards had dropped incendiaries on the island. They had not come from the sea. The cowards would pay. But first it was time for sacrificies, sacrificies for the Motherland. The General watched as his orders were put into action, the twenty five fishing trawlers from gathered small fishing towns moving into position, explosives in their hulls in critical points. As the huge ships moved into the gap between the Military-dominated island, and the mainland, helo's began taking off as the ships stopped moving completely, over the dead Doujin and in a huge movement of fire, smoke, and twisted metal they exploded. The first wave had sunk, as planned. General Kysetov would do all in his power to make sure the scum would not touch his sacred motherland, even for only a day, even if it meant sacrificing his own life and everyone on this island's.
Victory to the Motherland. He grinned as in the distance, some Oceanagraphic ships also moved with some more smaller fishing boats, an assortment of cargo ships and such. The General turned away and ran down the once beautiful stone steps, away from the hillock, towards his staff car and as he drove away, Kysetov tried to sleep. The explosions of the ships stopped this and the general grew irritated, yet as the staff car drove further away the explosions grew less in sound, but they were also refreshed..

At first Antonia was confused when her Flag Plot reported a large grouping of civilian ships behind the Task Force, then considerable worry when passive sonar on the DHKNs relayed that there were multiple explosions, and near panic when she realized what the pattern meant. "Comms, patch through to Task Group 1.2 and tell them to give me a SitRep."

When the reply came, it was in the form of an overlay on her personal miniature holomap. After letting out a sigh that she hadn't realized she was holding, she thanked God that the Hogsweatian's penchant for half measures continued. They had failed to block the eastern passage and trap her destroyers in the bay. However, at the moment she wasn't in a very lenient mood, especially when her enemies couldn't even manage to honor her with some competence and skill. "Comms, contact the Tatarus and appraise them of the situation. Also, request gun and rocket support from all available units, and inform them that air support might become necessary as well."

After relaying her request and waiting for a reply he said, "Ma'am, they're requesting a target."

"Tell them that I need the beach wiped absolutely clean. We've been taking from from hidden impacements and I want it to stop." Her anger came through audibly in that statement.

Her Communications Officer relayed the targetting request, minus the emotion, and then turned back to his CO, "Ma'am, they say your request is granted and to expect incoming in 30 seconds. Also, they say they have airstrike packages already on standby in case they become necessary."

Indeed, the fire from the battlecruisers, dreadnaughts, and superdreadnaughts was crushing. In the first minute of bombardment ninety-five 22" thermobaric shells and nearly 7,000 HE rockets came crashing down upon the beach. The first salvo was the only one, for the moment, simply because Admiral de Soto wanted to see how the Hogsweatian defenders would react.

The naval bombardment rained death and destruction down onto the beach. Shells and rockets alike tore up the frosty sand, ripping apart approximately a score of hidden rocket emplacements that had been set up after the initial bombardments. The five redoubts on the shore were reduced to rubble- their 12" guns and anti air missiles twisted, broken, unusable. Their crew dead or trapped under the rubble. The sea wall itself was littered with holes, the once five metre high and thirty centimetre thick concrete was now a shadow of it's former self as rockets tore it apart. The many bunkers on the shore that still existed after the air strikes were littered with huge holes. Craters pounded the round behind the sea wall, stopping movement from light vehicles.

The Command bunker, in, a redoubt of six bunkers, had been struck by seven rockets and five shells and had collapsed in on itself. For several minutes there was no sign of movement on the shore. Then, a nudge of rock. More nudging of the rock and a piece of rubble fell to the side and dust followed it like moths to a lampbulb. A piece of crimson material arose from the small hole, so dusty it seemed unrecognisable. And it rose again. In about a minute, the Hogsweatian flag was flying from the ruins of Command Bunker 1A.

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

The Navy Lynx, mark eight, moved at speed, crewman Jenklov breathing deep as he chucked the third magnetic mine. The words 30D+ scrawled on top of the mine denoted that this mine was for capital ships. This was his second run today - he had dropped around fourty mines in the East Dorsalgrad Island passage and that was only his helicopter. The others, Merlins and Navy Lynx's, had dropped about two hundred mines, both magnetic, acoustic, and pressure. The displacement level for the mines was assorted, both that so the smaller destroyers and the huge aircraft carriers could be hit and also anything within that displacement range.


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

New Haven Socialist Republic Island Chain
The huge naval task force was assembling. All the naval vessels from the Southern outpost had gathered there, creating a force that could possibly, just possibly, oust the Scandavians from Hogsweatian seas. It was worth a shot - the Admiralty knew the high profile of the Freethinker-designed vessel and they knew what they had was no match. But it had to be attempted, for the sake of the country and it's citizens. All they where waiting for now was the two carrier groups from Chukraine - about a week and then they would be ready to move against the Scandavians. Three huge superdreadnaughts, HMS* Unity, HMS Indefatiguable, and HMS Inpregnable, all spanning about 700 metres of steel, titanium, and various alloys had moved into the range of the fleet, with their respective escorts**. Each would be labelled a [i]Dreadnaught Battle Group. As well as the SD's, the HMS Soviet Union, HMS Respublika Hogsweatia, HMS Josef Dorsal, HMS Homecountry, HMS Chukraine, HMS Distuingished, HMS Respite, HMS Bolshevik, HMS Victory, HMS Mothercountry, and finally HMS Unstoppable, all Victory class Supercarriers, where the mainstay of the fleet's capital power.

[I have a beef with what you wrote about the helicopters, but I will address it on IRC and not here.]



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

Back home, the gathering Hogsweatian armada had not gone unnoticed by Imperial sattelites. In fact, the naval section in the War Room of the Royal Palace was quite busy analyzing the situation. In the meantime, First Lord Jorgenssen was briefing the Empress on the situation, "So, basically put, they have three superdreadnaughts and eleven carriers plus escorts for what we can only assume is an effort to engage the Home Fleet in Hogsweatian waters."

Lien thought for a second and then asked, "Have all of our fleets made it to port?"

Sven's answer was immediate, "No, Your Highness. 6th Expeditionary won't arrive until this evening."

"Very well. Cut orders to the 1st through 4th Expeditionary Fleets to depart as soon as they recieve word that the 6th has made port. They are to be called Task Force 2 and their objective is to meet and destroy the bastards." Empress Lien ordered.

Admiral Jorgenssen briefly thought of objecting to the overkill, but knew that even a reasoned argument against such a huge deployment was likely to make her very angry. Instead he came to attention and then ambled over to his section of the War Room. Indeed, compared to the Hogsweatian Task Force, what Lien suggested was absolute and total overkill; 4 Gehenna class fixed-wing superdreadnaughts, 24 Morrigan class class carriers, 4 Leviathan class superdreadnaughts, 20 Fenrir class dreadnaughts, 24 Ryuho class guided-missile battlecruisers, 96 Alexandria class attack cruisers, 72 Gaea class guided-missile destroyers, 72 Revenge class escort destroyers, 72 Sabre class hunter-killer destroyers, 72 Clan Grant class fleet replenishers, and 24 Upholder class fleet attack submarines. It was enough concetrated power to overwhelm any medium-sized navy in the world and it was probably enough to completely obliterate the forming Hogsweatian formation.

At 11PM New Copenhagen time Task Force 2 set sail, moving at a leisurely 20 knot pace. It would be some time yet before TF2 could engage the Hogsweatian TF, but that didn't matter because if Admiral Harrington had anything to say about it not one Hogsweatian ship would reach its goal.

The light is shining,
Upon vengeful motherland,
Enemy have already struck,
Their stench litters our country.

The tune blasted out of the radio tower into the streets below as a mob of people cheered in front of a podium in Union Street. Flags where being waved, even as explosions could be heard from the shore. The people where chanting.
Swlrg [Swerlg] Ri [Rye] Rgw [Regwa] dlaxuar [Dalaxar] Ubclswea [Ubselsea!
Or in English, "death to the fascist invaders!" on a podium, a comissar was throwing rifles, old mosin nagants, to the crowd below. They where scrambled for, like sweets to children, and grasped by peasants angry for blood, angry for revenge against the Scandavians that had ravaged their great country. When the last rifle was in the hands of the untrained peasant, the Comissar shouted.

"Comrades, here are your instructions."

A comissar raised his rifle, a customised version of the nagant. From the window above a picture of a scandavian looking soldier, his eyes red and his rifle raised ready to shoot a mother covering her child was being held out a window.

"SHOOT!"

As one, the rifles, clumsily but still in formation, were raised and the bolts pulled back, a great clattering filling the echoed street. Each man not over 55, each boy above 16 had been ordered out of his home and onto the street. The rifles were up, cocked, and together they fired, like a clapping sound. Out of about one hundred and fifty rifles fired about one hundred fourty hit, the others flying close. Evidently the men had not forgot their mandatory national service [renewed each 10 years and started at 14] and the comissar was pleased.

"Excellent shot comrades. Shoot well when the fascist hits our shores and you will be rewarded with the blood of the evil invaders. First Company, First Battalion, First Civilian Regiment, Advance!"

The makeshift troops took up position in a line of houses facing the shoreline, about one hundred metres back from the now destroyed sea wall. The dull brown of their rifles absorbed the light as they readied themselves for the attack.

"Marines of the First Regimental Combat Team, hear me. Today we seek glory for the Empire and justice for the crimes perpetrated against us. Today, we seek to bring our enemy to its knees. Today, we remove our enemy's arrogance and force them to seek our mercy. However, and mark this well, we do not seek to shed blood for the sake of shedding blood, we are better than our enemies. If you should come upon a Hogsweat soldier who seeks to surrender, disarm him or her and move on, we do not have time to play silly games.

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
dona eis requiem.

"You have all read your units' operations plan and you all can call it up on your SIBA's computer should you require it. Do not deviate from that plan unless explicitly directed to do so or unless an emergency dictates it. We have given you all the leeway you could possibly need, but in the unlikely event that you need more simply send it up your chain of command and somebody will give a go/no go immediately.

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
dona eis requiem.

"That is all I have to say. Chaplains, please see to your troops before we begin final prep." To Lieutenant Stefansen, the Colonel's speech was succinct, yet in a way still moving. Despite his few words, and although he did not say so, his manner told the Lieutenant that the Colonel cared for his men deeply. No doubt he is grieved by the necessity of sending some of his men to die thought Stefansen, I know I would be in his position. As he bowed before his Chaplain and recieved a warrior's blessing, Lt. Stefansen said a short prayer for those in his platoon. Everyone in the RCT, and indeed the 1st Division, knew that this would be a trying day for them.

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
dona eis requiem sempiternam.

Shortly the men began to move their stations. Some went to their tanks, others to IFVs, others to various artillery, but he went to his precious SIBA. The Empress had been generous, for every division in the invasion had recieved and been checked out on brand new Assault class SIBA. Stefansen shuddred as he thought of the cost of doing so, but he knew the cost in human lives would have been higher if they had been provided only with their normal Light or Medium class SIBA.

Lux aeterna luceat eis, Domine,
cum sanctis tuis in aeternum,
quia pius es.

The battlearmour was currently off and was held in a squatting position by a simple brace, which also stood up his rifle. As he climbed upon the knee of the piece of armour and then slid into what many soldiers called the "cockpit" of the heavier armours, a sense of calm came over him. First, he pressed his thumb into a biometrics pad to bypass the security on the suit and turn it on, which also made the brace slowly stand the suit up with his assistance. Second, he went through a series of dexterity checks to make sure the basics were in order. Third, he checked the electronic systems, which weren't all that many when compared to normal armoured vehicles. Finally, he checked his life support systems, especially the biochem filters.

Requiem aeternum dona eis, Domine,
et Lux perpetua luceat eis,
cum Sanctus tuis in aeternum,
quia pius es.

Once the checks were completed Stefansen led his platoon towards the vehicle hold. It was a truly massive place, with many hundreds of vehicles quietly humming with barely contained energy, as if waiting to be unleashed upon the world. Just as he found his platoon's IFVs he noticed a choir song being played over the speakers and identified the lyrics as Latin and after listening for a couple of seconds a grim smile came upon his face. Requiem, he thought, but it isn't for us.

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

While that, and many similar things, were going on in all the assault ships, the destroyers began to finish what they had come into the bay to start. More ASROCs were fired off, this time closer to the submarine that could not, and apparently would not try to, escape either capture or death. This time the DHKNs weren't playing around, they meant to cause enough harm to the submarine to force it to surface or take its crew with it to Davey Jones.

Cum historia mutat valde
Razgriz revelat ipsum:
Primum daemon scelestus est.

In the mean time, cruisers and battlecruisers began to slip into the harbor, but still keeping well back of the fight that they weren't equipped to take on. Instead they began training their guns and targetting their missiles on preplanned target areas. Of vital importance was any structure that could provide significant cover for Hogsweatian troops.

Cum potentia sua
Daemon fundet mortem in terram:
Deinde moritur.

And well behind Dorsalgrad Island sat the behemoths, towering structures of composite and alloy that housed either guns, aircraft, or even both. When they came into action it would be the beginning of the end.

Cum somnus finit,
Razgriz surget iterum:
Magnus heros est.

More Conscript Companies poured into the front lines, a row of abandoned houses that faced the beach, about 100 metres back from the sea wall. Sandbags lined the houses and at every crevice mosin nagants and RPD's pointed out, behind them helmeted eyes staring, waiting, for the enemy to come onto their shores.

The clack of boots against cobble could be heard all over the city.
Teeeeennn-HUT.
A huge noise made as two companies of rifle conscripts stamped their boots on the ground and put themselves to attention. They moved into one of three hotels in the city of Dorsalgrad, this one the Revolution Hotel, and took up positions there. On top of the hotel, a team of soldiers carrying anti tank weapons ranging from RPG7's to Milans, and some AMR guns set up behind sandbags and concrete blocks. Inside squads of soldiers moved into hotel rooms, facing down onto the beach that once used to be beautiful - five hundred years ago there was no sea wall, no bunkers, no council houses and definetly no enemy fleet bombarding the coast. Another company of conscripts and then, sparingly, a regiment of mechanised soldiers, using their M113's and M3 Bradley's to block entrances into the cities such as the main two roads, which were already mined and watched by machine guns and a group of 76mm guns. The seaside was literally littered with guns and mines and there was more of that to come..

Outside of the city, four armoured brigades and four mechanised brigades took positions in a line outside the city of dorsalgrad, camouflaging themselves in the some 30cm deep snow. Conscripts moved outside the city, huddling together for warmth with rifles tossed over shoulders and greatcoats absorbing snow and winter cold. They dug pits with the butts of their rifles, great but yet small trenches with bunkers, dugouts, gun emplacements, and barbed wire. All this would hopefully be concealed by the extremely bad weather, constant snowing and the rumble of movement in the city.

In the east, the south, the north of the great country, great rumblings could be heard. Citizens awoke from their untouched, almost perfect sleep and looking out of the windows they could see the smoke, the long line of grey and white that was the Reserve Armour Divisions and the Komsomol Armour Divisions. They stretched out of the city, trucks in long lines with Reservists in ,trying to catch some sleep before they were no doubt moved to another temporary location. The long line of tanks and trucks looked not unlike ants carrying food back to the hive - yet these vehicles were not going back to the hive, they were leaving it, leaving it to fight.

The convoy however was not completely unguarded - there were anti air vehicles and eight squadrons of Reserve Air Units and Reserve Komsomol Air Units, which ranged from the fairly competent MiG29's to the 1950's era MiG 15's that the Komsomol trained with.