NationStates Jolt Archive

200 miles off the coast of South Africa

Home.

The Fleet ArchStrategos sat in the flagship of the fleet, a New Empire class supercarrier. From the bridge he mentally pictured the land his parents had come from. The night and distance obscured it, but Shrakenberg had been there many times as a child to meet relatives. The beautiful coasts, the majestic animals... And the slums. The divided population. The hate.

It was a shame he would have to return like this. He had illegally given his relatives warning of the invasion, but he doubted they would put someone like him on court martial for giving civilians some time to stock up on emergency supplies.

Off the deck he saw the first volleys of railgun fire arch into the night. The hypersonic cracks filled the air, and soon more fire joined in as destroyers and cruisers let themselves be heard.

Durban

The families were outside, and had been for most of the day. They were one of the more well off of the blacks in the area, and from their small backyard the adults talked and the children played, although soon they'd have to be tucked in for bed.

One boy dropped his soccer ball and pointed up in the air.

"Ma, ma! Look! Shooting stars!"

They followed the gaze of the 7 year old until they saw it. Dozens, perhaps hundreds of streaks in the night sky.

"Tengo," said his father, "I think this might be a meteor shower. Odd, though, usually they make more of a fuss about it beforehand."

"Meteors? Like in that movie on TV where they crash into everything?"

"Oh, don't be worried. Those are all made up."

The 155mm Tungsten slugs were just that, slugs. However, they did have quite a lot of high tech targeting equipment. Tiny fins helped them adjust course as the ceramic reentry material glowed. Soon it broke off, and they hurtled towards their targets miles down below.

In Durban, it was the ships that were hit. The shells had been targeted so well they did not damage the ports, but ripped through the vessels as dozens impacted each. In a few minutes, major C4I and military installations were hit.

It was only the first wave in the massive invasion. It seemed as if South Africa didn't have a chance, but they had always found ways to fight.

OOC: Fleet composition upon request. This is an Earth III RP, so the nation is not occupied by an NS nation. But join in if you wish.

The two pilots had launched their JAS-39B from the highways, as the primary airbases had been destroyed in the first few rounds of bombardment. The air battle was simmering down, but the South Africans still had a handful of pilots who had made the cut and were keeping alive.

Their unit had been hopping from highway to highway, as the lauch area was usually hit after they took off. The Swedish aircraft were very good in comparison to the old Mirages that had been the staple of the airforce. Only 11 of the 28 Gripens were still in service, but spare parts were already running out.

They flew low, armed with AAMs. They were to escort a group of Mirage F1AZs to the Cape Town area and engage the landing forces there. They couldn't stay up long, especially at this altitude. The terrain was not that far below them.

The pilot grimaced as he scanned the skies. An active radar meant instant death, so the locations of the enemy aircraft had to be relayed from spotters in the area. One was calling in now, reporting that he saw a pair of strike aircraft come in and bomb a SAA military position. The pilot knew from experience that the fighters always traveled with air superiority nearby, a lesson he had to learn the hard way after jumping an F/A-131 over the Cape.

He could see the lead Mirage, designed to lure out the RSA forces. The first missile came in at around Mach 5, likely a medium range weapon. That meant the UCS fighter was at the most 80 miles away. He accelerated forward and began using his radar in blips, trying to pick up the fighter while it's bay doors were still open.

Too slow... Gotcha!

He slammed on the afterburner and popped off an Israeli made AAM, short range but very good. The other aircraft immediately started using thermal decoys, or so the imager told him. So the Gripen pilot pushed into gun range, priming his cannon. Then, the entire aircraft felt warm.

He felt the strange urge to urinate, like his entire body was in warm water. Oddly he chuckled, but before the air could escape his mouth everything went white, burning white.

"BLERY HELL!" swore the other pilot as he raced towards the RSA fighters. There was no missile launch, and nobody was on his tail. There was no weapon in their arsenal that could do that to an aircraft. It must have been that mobile laser they developed for air defense. He switched to thermal imaging, hoping to find the weapons platform. If the Mirages were going to make it to the enemy lines...

"Shit."

They were gone. They had all been picked off as he searched for the laser, and as they tried to engage the enemy fighters... The SAMs and AAA had made mincemeat of them.

"You bastards! Give us a fucking chance!"

He armed all of his missiles and pushed his aircraft towards the smoke trail of a damaged New Empire aircraft. He screamed with animal rage as he neared launch range, but never saw the MIM-122 Artemis SAM crash into the aircraft.

West Cape

"Go! Go!"

The Monitor waved the other 3 men of his stick onward as he righted himself into a prone firing position, the large rock of the farm his cover. He gave a quick glance to the ammo readout on his helmet. 39 of the 45 rounds in his magazine left. The red dot sight centered itself on the center of a soldiers chest as he ran across the road, and he fired. The Blended Metal round zipped out of the barrel, the penentrating core going straight through him as the rest of the round ripped through his chest. The man was dead before he hit the ground, a lucky shot. Usually it took 2-3 shots, even with the new blended metal manufacturing, to put one of the South African troopers down.

The machinegunner in his squad lifted his M280 SAW and opened up on a South African position before the 5.56 NATO round of an R-5 hit him in the left arm. He swore as he looked at the hole in his forearm, blood creeping across the digital dot pattern of his camouflage.

"You okay?" called the Monitor, not glancing from the sights of his rifle as he felled the enemy gunman.

"Yeah, if he's dead. Not my shooting arm. I'm good. Just get someone to help me tie it up."

The gunfire wasn't going down from the farmhouse. The other stick of the lochos was here, along with his commanding Decurion.

"Sir! We've got about 30 men in there, one of their platoons! All along those irrigation ditches, in the vineyard, the farmhouse, the whole damn place!"

"Well, I know how to solve that problem. Lemme call the boys from fire support. You lase the place, okay?"

"Sierra Foxtrot Six, this is Brownbag Four Four Six. I've got a bunch of hostiles holed up pretty tight, can you lend us some sugar? We've got GPS coordinates coming in... Now."

"Alright... Tell your men to fall back, this is gonna be a big one."

Back at the fire support base a modified APC chassis rotated it's automortar towards the target area. The crew finished loading the ammunition packs into the weapon, and the order to fire came. The 120mm rounds flew out as fast as a machine gun, and soon other weapons joined in as they reloaded.

Back at the farm, the men watched the positions as the mass of crackling whistles came in, and then it seemed a wall of smoke, fire and dust made a wall through the farm. Men and home alike vaporized in clouds of flechette, HE, and shrapnel.

"Thanks guys, that was some sierra hotel work."

It was in the Cape region that the most resistance was being put up, surprisingly. As those automortar rounds slammed down, the first UCSNE tanks were rolling into Pretoria.

OOC: If nobody cares to RP resistance or counterattack me... I'm considering this battle over.

OOC: I'll RP the SA forces.

IC:

"Commander, our naval forces are pretty much decimated - we only have a few submarines operational, and they'll barely make a scratch on this invasion force we're facing. However our army and airforce are in pretty good condition."

"Prepare the beaches for an invasion then, and get all aircraft up in the air - I want air superiority."

Minutes later the RSA army began setting up defences along the beaches, wary for incoming fighters and naval bombardment. RSA aircraft began to launch in ever incresaing numbers, hoping to keep the UCSNE aircraft away.

[OOC: Lol....I was going to rp the SA forces, but nevermind. May I be the referee?]

OOC: lol, beat ya to it. You could be the Nambians. NE stated that their army is wholy intact.

Ohhh .... the Namibians! Ok, let me do some research on 3rd world armies first.

Pilot Tetrach James Powell checked his visor HUD once more as the aircraft neared the range of the South African radars. Though they were using Athena and flying at low altitude, Durban was one of the most important ports in the nation and likely the South Africans had air patrols up.

The strike groups consisted of three squadrons (Carrier squadron in UCSNE=12 aircraft for fighter size) of F/A-131s. Although these couldn't carry as many weapons as aircraft such as the F/A-128s, they had a better chance of making it through the enemy air defense, early warning, and fighters. Naturally, there was an escort. 36 F-133 Valkyries, the latest fighter the nation had to offer. There was a similar group heading towards Cape Town.

Powell's Valkyrie, like the rest, had their wings backswept for speed and just a bit more stealth. The F/A-131s used the switchblade concept of wings, and theirs too were folded up.

It would only be seconds now until the South Africans had their best chance to intercept them... And hopefully the guys on the ships would pull through with their distraction.

From the VLS cells of the Arsenal ships came 500 cruise missiles, Wolverines. The coldfire launch shot them up into the air, and then their turbofans activated, the RAM on the deck spared from the exhaust. The weapons arched into the air, leaving trails of wisping exhaust.

The missiles were a bit heavier than the American Tomahawk, but they were stealthier, and thanks to a bit of work adapting turbofans, could just barely supercruise towards their targets. These were Durban and Cape Town, and the defenses around them, primarily antiair to soften up the route for the strike groups. The missiles were split evenly between the two targets.

Now there was nothing to do for the sailors but wait and watch.

[OOC: So, do I wait til you turn your attentions to Namibia or is it too late? I'm a little confused, but I still want to help out here. Everything looks pretty good so far :)]

[OOC: So, do I wait til you turn your attentions to Namibia or is it too late? I'm a little confused, but I still want to help out here. Everything looks pretty good so far :)]


just hop on in when you want I imagine :P

OOC: I was going to launch both invasions in one post, but I didn't have the time then. But you can start now if you want.

OOC: Sorry this is a bit belayed - when using the search funtction, this didin't come up. And sorry about the short post - got to go to work soon.

IC:

The few fighters in the air surrounding Durban detected a small distortion in their radar sets, coming in fast from the sea. The radar didn't show anything to be of airplane size, but it didn't pay to be ignorant, especcially with an invading army over the horizon.

The fighters flew straight towards the incoming fighters, arming thier missiles ready in case things turned bad.


Meanwhile, radar stations all along the coast detected hundreds of small inconsistancies, coming straight from the sea. Warnings were sent to the military command just in case it happened to be the enemies, doing something sneaky.

"Alright guys, the Navy missiles are coming up, everyone pull up so you don't get clipped."

"Mudspike, mudspike. Land based radars painting us. No spikes yet, but I bet they're vectoring in bandits..."

"I'm picking up at least a squadron, no joy!"

The aircraft pulled up as the first wave of cruise missiles howled towards their targets. And then they began using their LPI radars to start choosing targets. They would use NGMRAAMs, fast, quick turning missiles that could hit at around 60-70 miles out on average. As the networks made sure they had the aircraft covered, they let loose missiles and then waited for any threat to the strike fighters.

Meanwhile, a different force was moving towards Namibia, Walvis Bay specifically. Theirs was a high altitude force of stealth aircraft, 12 massive Arkbird EB-15s. Four of them were 'aircarriers', in that they held UCAVs in their bays instead of bombs. Soon the second front would open up.

Tag so I don't forget this thread. :)

"Shit! General, there are hundreds and hundreds of cruise missiles raining down upon our coast line - whatever defences we had left on the ground are gone, vapourised, wiped out! All we have left are the reserves in the inland cities, and the various aircraft we can scrounge from airfields inland."

"What?! How the hell did that happen? Get every single aircraft we have in the air. I don't care if its a state of the art warplane, or a crop duster - I want them in the air, and I wanted it half an hour ago."

"Sir, you already ordered the majority of our aircraft into the air half an hour ago."

"Your fired! Get me those damn planes!"

As the order went out, every plane in South Afrika heeded the call. A motley collection of planes turned up, and all were assigned to the same group - Group X. All the serious warplanes were directed towards the incoming fighters that were making inroads towards various targets. Group X was sent as a distraction towards the UCSNE fleet, heading to the south, then west, then northwards.

"Sir, we're getting the sat pass for damage review... It looks like their coastal defenses are hit hard, but they still have something, and their inland force is relatively unscathed. Also getting rumors of massive aircraft launch."

The Archstrategos looked over the huge strategic map on the screen. The pair of fighters groups were still on schedule.

Powell cocked an eyebrow at the NPI radar MFD. No, this couldn't be true. They didn't have that many aircraft. It must be some form of jamming.

"I'm detecting a big lumpa bogies, going to move in for a tally. Cover my ass if they're armed."

He pulled his F-133 higher, to the altitude of the contacts, and activated the enhanced nose cameras. It was amazing. Possibly hundreds of aircraft moving towards the fleet. But most were unarmed or looked civilians.

"Oh damn... Ah, control, this is Sword Two Two Six, we've got a deer dance going down about 100 miles north your pos."

"Ah, repeat, Two Two Six?"

"Deer dance. I count several dozen unarmed or civvie planes, all moving towards the fleet."

"What... Hold on while we adjust fleet radar Two Two Six... God. Are any of them armed?"

"I don't think so..."

"Well, continue on preplanned route. Thanks for the heads up Two Two Six. Good hunting."

"Yeah... Make sure we have something to come home to control. Two Two Six out."

He dropped the plane back into formation, and then saw their fighters, definetly not in escort formation. They were heading for his aircraft.

"Heads up guys, I'm looking at some angry natives here, no joy. Weapons free. My squadron, follow me in. Let's do this."

The F-133s broke formation and armed their missiles. Internal bays popped open as AIM-123 Divinebolts let loose, and the aircraft accelerated towards the South Africans, preparing their next line of weapons. The fight was sure to be bloody, but it was up to them to pave the way for the ground troops.

Powell was sweating as his weapons screeched beyond vision, towards the South Africans. It always came up with the adrenaline, just like it did during that massive air battle against Allanea. But this was different... This time they had no backup. It was their task force against an entire nation.

And failure wasn't an option for him.
OOC: Hrstrovokia, if you're on, my last post deals with Namibia...

The missiles streaked towards the S. Afrikan fighters, taking some down. They then opened up with their missiles, letting loose the majority of their Sidewinders at the enemy fighters.


Meanwhile Group X were heading towards the UCSNE fleet, keeping at a steady speed so that they would all arive together.

Now remember guys, nothing is too dangerous to win our freedom. Let loose with your 'bombs' when I give the signal - not before, not after. I want blanket coverage of their fleet. If at any time you feel that your not going to make it, aim at the nearest ship, dive bomb it, and release your weapons at the last possible moment. Good luck men!

Group X's weapons consisted of homemade bombs, similar to Molotov cocktails, but larger, and more dangerous. They were going to stop the invaders if it was the last thing they would do. Ironically, it probably would be the last thing they did.

"The hell? They're closing to IR range."

"Dammit, do not withdraw. We can maintain agility and still protect the strikers. Let's do this. Fox Two!"

The AIM-121 Banshee II High Manuverability missiles popped out of racks or internal bays, and using their Thermal Electro-Optic cameras (Taken from the Israeli Python 5), howled towards the South African forces. The Sidewinders could be fooled a bit by the fighters Advanced Thermal/Visual Signature Reduction a bit, but a good portion of them hit their targets. Fortunately it was the fighters that took the bulk of the fire, as they were the one who exposed themselves by opening their bays for missile launch.

The switchblade wings of the F/A-131s peeled open from the fuselage as they screeched down low, towards the South African defenses. The F-133s themselves unfolded their wings from swept back to an odd 'W' position, their ruddervators rotating and thrust vectoring twitching. They still had a few more Banshees and plenty of cannon ammo, and hopefully they could hold off the South Africans for the strike fighters.

The Ospreys were now running low, in full jamming mode now that their location was known. In their bays were short range land attack missiles, similar to JSOWs or the Storm Shadow. They themselves carried a few AAMs in their sleek dark hulls, but it would be up to the fighters if this was to be successful.

The civilian aircraft approached, and the fleet's CAP came to meet them. F-121 fighters, massive interceptors with speed, long range sensors, and the weapons to match.

They saved their Divinebolts in case of missile attacks, and instead launched Banshee II and Artemis Medium Range weapons before diving in with cannon. The major issue was not being killed, it was stopping this many planes before they got to the fleet. They certainly coudln't kill all of them, but hopefully enough to let Surface to Air weapons intervene.

The fighters were blown out of the sky by the invaders superior weaponary. They barely had a chance to respond. There were still a few fighters left in the sky, but not enough to create a viable defense network.

Meanwhile Group X headed straight for the incoming enemy fighters. The boldest fighters were on the outside, effectively keeping the rest of the aircraft all in one place. Though thei created a perfect target for the enemy, it also allowed them to create some fear with the sheer number of planes. A fair few aircraft got hit, and took out aircraft below them as they went down, but the majority of the aircraft were still on target - it wouldn't be too before they could begin their attack run.

The F-121 broke off, their weapons spent. The sleek interceptors pulled back and began providing extra targeting data to the fleet. The first weapons to rise up were the DSAMS, Defensive Surface to Air Missile Systems. The Artemis medium range missiles howled upward on rocket fuel as they tracked in on the South African aircraft. The sleek hulls of the UCSNE ships seemed to light up with smoke and flame as the DSAMS rippled off their weapons. And then they continued to close. The Zeus-M CIWS rotated upward, the barrels of their Metal Storm cannon tracking the planes. Their targets selected, there was a bit of a whirr and click, and what sounded like a continuous gunshot filled the air from each weapon.

Tracers like lasers filled the sky, sweeping through the formation. They were loaded with a mix of flak rounds as well. It was kind of ironic, ships that advanced resorting to WWII bomber defense tactics. They thinned their fire for a bit as they waited for the critical moment when the aircraft would have to line up for bombing.

Meanwhile the Ospreys continued on, rushing over the coastline. The WSOs quickly confirmed the targets for their payloads and opened their internal bays, letting the missiles race off towards their targets. They banked and raced for home, the fighters using a looping flight pattern around them to make sure no fighters would get too close.

That raid alone showed the war against South Africa would not be easy. Casualties were surprisingly high, and judging by the civilian air fleet, the enemy would be determined. But after this, it would really be the ground soldier's problem.

As the UCSNE ships opened fire on the aircraft, more and more aircraft began falling out of the sky, like flies. Their opening run was coming up, and even with the reduced force they had now, they could hopefully deleiver some death to them. Of the larger planes that had been hit, one managed to gain some control over his aircraft. He then began his final moments as a kamikaze pilot, heading straight for the nearest ship. Flying into the flak as the ships tried to stop him, he managed to reach the ship, pretty much at sea level, with his aircraft falling to bits - but he reached the ship!

Meanwhile the rest of the aircraft opened out whatever had served as bomb racks, and begun to loose their weapons, be it opening the hatch, throwing them over board, or simply rolling the plane over so that they just fell out. Some of these homemade bombs collided with the unfortunate aircraft that hadn't been able to level off onto the same altitude, and they went up in spectacular fireballs.

The crews of the ships gaped at the sight. The roaring of the propellers, the tracers, and now the suicide planes: It was like a scene out of a movie on the 2nd Reunification War. The Kamikazes caused the worst damage, but thankfully the defenses of the ships ensured that it was the outer ships that took the hits. The homemade bombs had the worst effect on ships with flight decks, though. The fire they created would not hinder the operations of a destroyer as long as the VLS firefighting systems were working, but they would take time to clean up on carrier decks and were a danger to ordnance being loaded.

Men were dragged off of the carrier decks screaming from burn wounds. Firefighting gear blasted thick white clouds over the deck, and combined with the howling of the turbines and glow of the fire made for a strange sight. A few men fell of the deck, and the carrier had to stop as sailors scrambled to help them up.

If anything, the battle of the Cape was going to be a precedent to the tough spirit of the South Africans. It would be up to Fleet Archstrategos Shrakenberg to convince the ground commanders not to take this too harshly. They had the bitter taste of the Markovian wars from their forefathers, and none wanted to repeat the Suborb-Surface kinetic bombings or tactical nuclear AAMs and torpedo warfare that had occured then. He would not stand for it.

While brute force would be a helping hand here, it would be careful tactics that would guarantee a hospitable environment for the people of New Empire and South Africa in the long run.

In the mean time, the fleet streamed on towards bombardment range to prepare for the land invasion. But there were still many South African operated, German made SSKs, some of the quietest on earth.

But they didn't have the resources to search everywhere. The South African subs could appear when they wanted to, where they wanted to.

The pilots of Group X were brave, but though their efforts did damage a few ships - they didn't have quite the required explosive power to seriously damage the ships. Anyway, every single aircraft was downed, large passenger jets to small biplanes. Combined with the losses of the SA fighters, there was pretty much no air defences left, what with the main AA weapons being destroyed by the cruise missile attack at the beginning.

The Generals ordered the ground troops to begin their final preparations for attack - with no navy or airforce to speak of, it wuold be up to the soldiers to take back their soil.



Meanwhile, as a last desperate measure, the few remaining SA subs were ordered to attack the UCSNE fleet to try and do as much damage as possible before they were taken over.

The UCS Razormouth slipped quietly through the water, her high-pressure hull coated with a thick, almost organic, it seemed, anechoic coating. Her shrouded, MHD assisted pumpjet quietly propelled her through the deep as the Captain Jason Arbell stood in the 'bridge' of the Orca class SSN. Long gone were the periscopes of older days, in their place a photonic mast display screen along with computer monitors. The room was lit red to preserve night vision.

"Conn, Sonar. Deploying ADI as requested."

"Sonar, conn. Continue."

A bulbous pod at the tail of the submarine detached and unfolded, trailing behind the vessel. Rather than the TBX-20 conventional towed sonar, it was a Mk5 Sharkeye Acoustic Daylight Imager. They had to slow down to use it, but lo and behold, it had found something.

"Conn, sonar. You seein' what I'm seein'?"

"Yessir... It's a diesel boat alright. Optimize detection for Type 209 patterns."

"Strange... Not making 209 noises. Figure those rumors about the Africans getting AIP equipped boats are true?"

"Think so. Second Captain just identified them as 98% probable Type 212. Looks like they purchased some new stuff in the offtime."

"Seems so. Arm the Mk58s in tubes One through Four. Let's do this."

"Kaptein, look here. Something just opened it's tube doors."

The sonar officer of the 212 U-Boat pointed at the irregularity in the sound patterns as the captain whipped his head around the room.

"Weapons officer, generate bearing on that track, open tubes one and two, and for God's sake shoot."

"Sir?... We still need a good-"

"Do it. Einzvo, prepare for evasive manuvers."

"Sir, torpedoes are ready in all respects."

The captain looked at the weapons officer's face and the fear in it. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. They were not trained to be fighting god knows what ultranationalistic country, and goddamnit, they weren't supposed to send sucker diesel boats against ceramic nuclear submarines.

"Shoot."

Two DM2A4 torpedoes, a fibercable behind them, swam through the water at a good 50 knots towards the Razormouth.

"Torpedoes in the water, bearing..."

Arbell swore, he hadn't though their SONAR was that good. Damn his arrogance. This would have to be handled quickly and efficiently. He looked over the computer screen detailing his weaponry.

"Close tubes one through four and ready tubes five and six in all respects. Full speed ahead."

"Sir?"

"You heard me," Arbell repeated, a bit more slowly this time, "Full speed ahead. And activate the ASHUM guns."

The 10,000+ ton submarine's nuclear reactors came to their full life and shoved the behemoth forward at 50 knots, the Sharkeye pod retracted. The incoming 'eels' as the South Africans were terming them, darted towards the Orca class, readying for their terminal phase when-

"Two banging noises... Two more. Our eels are gone."

The captain of the U212 was ready for incoming torpedoes, but what was that supposed to be. His mind raced for such a weapon. He remembered an article about some of the more wealthy militaries producing a supercavitating cannon for torpedo defense. Apparently they had such a weapon. He was about to order a turn when the next set of torpedoes came in.

The tubes five and six of Razormouth held 660mm "Hammerblow" Mk88 torpedo. The huge weapons used powerful pumpjets to bring them up to 70 knots, using LIDAR and sonar from the Orca class as they located the enemy. But they closed quickly, and inside the U212 the sonar pings could be heard, eerie noise growing as the weapons homed in.

"Everyone get ready... Emergency blow, main ballast tanks!"

Water gushed forth from the U212 as the little submarine shot towards the surface, and the torpedo turned after the submarine. The captain waited, gripping a railing and hoping those would not follow. But the torpedoes continued. He opened his mouth to say his last words, but 4200 pounds of Electro-Thermal primed explosive prevented him.

"Full stop... Deploy the Sharkeye."

The nuclear submarine slowed and runreeled the ADI pod once more. What it showed was grim: The vast majority of the U212 had been blasted to fragments, the remainder sinking down into the Cape. It hadn't really been fair, thought Arbell, considering his Navy had surpassed such boats years ago. But that was war. Soon it would be the ground trooper's problem as he sat doing little more.

Due to lack of RP intrest... I'm declaring this over unless someone wants to RP resistance. Will periodically post resistance updates.

(A short history of the fall of the nation)
[Pretoria]

The veldt seemed to leap into the air, soundless to the infantryman whose ears continued to ring with previous occurences.

It happened again. And again. All while his squad lay in their hastily prepared foxholes. The monitor wondered how many rounds had been flung into the South African positions, and hoped this was a sign the logistics were going well. Their APC had been november foxed a few minutes ago, and the smell filled the air as radio chatter did the same to their ears.

They really had to hand it to the South Africans. The casualties were the heaviest inflicted since the Markovian wars, though due to the liberal application of tactical atomics it was unlikely the African War would top the Markovian conflict in sheer cost. But this mattered not to Monitor Vandees. Somehow his tired mind caught the order to advance among the noise, and soon they were making their way across the veldt, on their bellies in the M180 battledress. The sound of a machinegun filled the air, preceded by Soldier Hundelsen's helmet cratering in a gory display of crimson.

"KEEP GOING!" was all the Monitor could manage as he flung himself among a koppie and set up his ATAR II. The compact rifle spat rounds in bursts, felling South Africans with blended metal rounds. But the fire was returned with a ferocity as another machine gun probed the terrain around them. He was in charge of the lochos now, the decurion's body rolling down the hill with what seemed like a dozen holes in his armor. There was no point in charging through the veldt again, that would be the armor's job. He quickly searched out antiarmor crews and instructed his marksman to pick them off. Even the snipers could not be allowed unfelled, a 20mm Mechem rifle was bad news for many vehicles.

As the short bursts and single shots of rifles sought out threats, he could feel the rumble in his prone gut as the wheeled AFVs and tanks roared through the terrain, onward towards the capital.

--

The cities were not the sites of the bloodiest fighting. It was the mountains, particularly the Drakensburgs that created the most trouble. How odd, it was the homeland of the current ruling family in New Empire now. The whites did not put up as much of a fight, many even welcoming the Dutch and ex-Boer soldiers in the Citizen Forces and Janissaries. For some in the Janissary units, they had been born here and were in the service to earn citizenship. But despite the minor presence of blacks in both arms, it was not enough to pacify the Africans, who had tasted black government and would not settle down for years to come when they felt the proper amount of black leadership fell in with the elections.

Namibia had fallen much more quickly. With little to counter the armored, airborne, and mechanized cavalry marauding across the Kalahiri, the government capitulated quickly, lacking the aid they had in the 20th century. Resistance would continue, but not quite as fiercely as in South Africa.

Over 8,000 lives were lost in the three years of 'major conflict and resistance' on the side of the United City States. The indigenous forces lost at least a dozen thousand military or guerilla forces, though the actual body count was expected to be higher. Civilian casualties remain unknown to this day, though the UCSNE has put a large emphasis on bringing up conditions to that of the mainland.

But amid the rebuilding, conflict sparked on many borders. To some this would herald of a new war, believing the gullet of the dragon had not yet quenched it's bloodthirst.