NationStates Jolt Archive

[Closed: The following role play is closed to all, save those directly related to the 'A Modern World' group. You may tag just for the read, however, please do not post out of character. The out of character thread is located here (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=423177).]


To his attendant Jonatan I turned and said,"Once again, the world shall see the spectacle of the newborne Spanish military might."


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[30 degrees latitude, 125 degrees longitude]
The red and yellow flag, embossed in the center by the grandiose, black double-headed Imperial Eagle, waved left and right in the cool Pacific Ocean breeze, just off the coast of China. Below the gaze of the sun, Spain's first great armada, since the the 1800s, sailed due southeast, moving through the expanses of the Pacific, and towards the volatile waves of the Atlantic. It was ironic that the Armada had been built in China, a nation with which Spain had no relations more than half a year before.

However, much had changed in the past year. Spain had gone from the forgotten peninsular power, to one of the leaders of Europe. The country, once controlled by the Bourbons, had been taken by a Catalan, who had then married another Bourbon, who managed to be the daughter of the all powerful Louis XIV - the king of France. Furthermore, Spain had brought up cordial relations with the Chinese, and had allied herself to France, Italy and Belarus. It all seem to piece together. However, the buds of Emperor Jonatan I had not been satiated - he refused to be just another partner in an alliance, and instead he had ordered the fatal orders to become, not a partner, but the leader, of not Europe, but the world. It would take time, but his ambitions would attempt to get him there, and this Armada would be just one of his tools.

The new Spanish Armada was nothing, however, compared with the fleets of the other naval powers of the new world order. Nevertheless, it would be able to hold its own, and under the command of the talented, and recently promoted, Grand Admiral Antonio Ibarez, it would be able to punch a hole through any fleet Jonatan desired to strike.

It was composed of eight Clauswitz class Frigates, eight Seydlitz class Cruisers, eighteen Manstein class Destroyers, thirty Azores class Fast Attack Craft, twenty Pepperbox class Logistical Supply Vessel, two Indestructable class Aircraft Carriers - perhaps, the most expensive ship in the arsenal -, and about another fifty ships worth of logistical and miscellaneous shipping. Again, it wasn't large in the eyes of those who had seen a real battle fleet, such as that of the United States or China, however, in the eyes of a Spaniard, it was its pride and joy. Moreover, who was to say as more nations fell to the power of Spain, this fleet would not expand? It indeed would, Jonatan was sure of that.

Inside the armored bridge of the HES Aranjuez, an Indestructable class Aircraft Carrier, Grand Admiral Dacio del Berniz took another drag from his Cuban cigar, the thick black smoke building inside his mouth and then released gradually as he pulled the cigar away from his mouth. In front of him, five or six maps were arrayed, showing the topography of a strange set of islands. Although the titles were barely legible, they seemed to describe the locations of both the Azores and the islands around Madeira - both of which were Portuguese posessions. He scoffed and took another drag from the cigar. Then he muttered,"Puta guerra. They want to waste the armada for such a rudimentary operation? Let it be. The Portuguese shall receive the suprise of their life." He laughed before he put the maps away.

He rubbed his eyes, wary of researching all the maps he could get his hands of. He had already outlined and described his general strategy, and although no other ears had heard a hint of it, he knew exactly what he would do. Perhaps one could say that the Portuguese would not have a navy after the Spanish attack. Indeed, one could say that the Portuguese armed forces in general would be shattered within the first two hours of war.

The Armada, dubbed Battle Fleet Romeo, would continue moving through the Pacific Ocean and then skirt south around Tierra del Fuego, south of Argentina, slowing down to make sure that the fleet was not damaged in the harsh oceanic landscape of the area. Then, from there, Romeo would make its way through the Atlantic and finally, it would reach the Azores and Madeira - and the re-conquista could begin.

[OOC: Much more coming later in a second post. I have other things to do now.]

[Mid-Atlantic Ocea]
The large ripples of water splashed against the composite hulls of the Spanish warships, perhaps some of the best designed in the world, although largely undergunned in terms of then number of ships. It was rather depressing to know that the once greatest fleet in the world had been reduced to a single battle fleet, somewhat bigger than a standard U.S. battle group. Regardless, the fleet would make it's impressions around the Atlantic, no matter its size. Spanish flags, the emblem of the old monarchy replaced with the double headed eagle of the Hapsburg dynasty - the symbol of Spain's ancient glory - waved fervently in the strong headwinds of the currents sailing the mid-Atlantic. Only three hundred years before sailors had feared treading these waters, but today, the Spanish Armada feared nothing.

Inside the command center of the HES Aranjuez, the second carrier of its class, sorrounded by gigantic armored belts, Grand Admiral Dacio del Berniz continued to plot operations around the mid-Atlantic. He had received a telegram detailing future operations and the such, and the goal of the new Spanish Empire concerning future wars. They were to go to war with Portugal, and that was final. However, that hadn't suprised del Berniz, since it was the policy of the new Catalan dynasty, and their Bourbon brethren to the north, to occupy anything within reach - indeed, the growth of the state at the expense of the weak was priority in such a state. What had suprised the admiral was that he was expected to take the Azores, perhaps some of the most defended Portuguese real estate outside the mainland itself, with just his fleet - and at the same time sink any Portuguese shipping that tried to make it back to the mainland ports. His fleet was not a land attack fleet - it was a strike battle fleet, intended to prowl the oceans looking for fleets of similar size, and sinking them. No matter, he would have to complete orders.

The elderly man turned to his chief warrant officer,"Plot us."

The other man nodded and responded,"Aye sir. We are two hundred nautical miles southwest of the Azores. Estimated time of arrival to position one hundred nautical miles outside of the Azores is three hours and two minutes."

del Berniz frowned, Portugal would start to wonder what the only Spanish fleet was doing outside of the Azores, and he wondered if Madrid had any response ready. He knew for a fact, since he had many friends in the army, that the ground divisions were no way near ready for an offensive into Portugal. Indeed, there were about two armored divisions in the south, and a single on in the north, and then just around four infantry divisions spread across the entire length of the Portuguese border. This was not nearly enough to punch a hole through the Portuguese defenses, who were more prepared for an invasion than their Moroccon counterparts had been.

However, it was also a fact that two foreign legions from Morocco, roughly fourteen thousand men, were making their way through the Straits of Gibraltar and were to be posted along with the souther armored group. The admiral shuddered. After the Foreign Legion had landed in Southern Spain they had begun their lightning campaign towards Badajoz, and whatever they took they slaughtered. He feared that the same fate would befall the Portuguese. He wondered what would happen if Spain lost a war some day, and it meant the end of Spain - who would the blame fall on? He shook his head. Spain would never fall.

Another officer rushed through the door. His face broken with sweat, and the man was panting like a wild animal. It looked as if he had ran from the deck to the command center. After del Berniz looked at him he spilled,"Sir, RADAR contacts bearing zero-eight-three, coming from the Azores. They seem like Portuguese fighter jets."

Dacio del Berniz stood up and waved the man away. It was already beginning - although the two countries would not be at war, if Spain's timetable succeeded, for another year or so [OOC: whatever one to two months is in this role play], Portugal was already responded to blatan and non-subtle moves of agression by Spain.

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[OOC: Ouch, did I say do not post in-character? Typo, I meant out of character. I'd be happy if you all posted - no wonder it's just a bunch of tags! My bad.

Nonetheless, I'll get one or two posts in, and then I'll put this on hold, since I'll be in Spain. I'll try to visit Portugal and get some nifty pics of the front :-P. ]