NationStates Jolt Archive

Royal Palace Do Jang, Vancouver
"Cha Ryo. Sah Bom Neemke, kyung neh, parl." The students bowed to Alexei. The students turned to face the oldest among them, who stood in front of Alexei. "Cha Ryo. Pan Jam Neemke, kyung neh, parl." The students, Alexei, and Grandmaster Ahn bowed to the Pan Jam Neem.

Master Ahn smiled. "Good practice everyone. Good night." The students heading to the changin room, to shower and change out of their uniforms. Alexei started to follow them, but was stopped by Master Ahn.

"Sir?" Respect was very important in Tae Kwon Do. In this room, even the Emperor referred to Master Ahn as 'sir.' It was no different for his eldest son.

"I think we need to your dad come and practicing. I miss the free spar," he said with a grin. Alexei smiled as well. His father, Dayan, was a ninth-degree black belt, and the only person in the palace who could spar with Master Ahn on a fairly level playing field. Alexei himself was only a third-degree black belt, and his younger brother Matthew had just recieved his first degree. Isaac, Alexei's fraternal twin, did not practice Tae Kwon Do, preferring the rougher and more brutal matrial arts, such as Krav Maga.

"I will try to get him, sir."

"Good. Thank you," the master said. He was small, at about five foot, six inches, and nearing his sixty-fifth birthday. He was difficult to understand given his thick Korean accent, but he was an excellent teacher.

About twenty minutes later, as Alexei was preparing to leave, he saw Matthew standing in the doorway. "What is it?"

"Father said to come and get you. The delegation from Halberdgarida is here, and the Ottoman ambassador will be arriving shortly. He says that two of his sons are going to be present, and he doesn't care which two."

Alexei laughed. "How'd Isaac get out of this?"

Matthew grinned sardonically. "Shaking hands and kissing babies at the Docks. Well, maybe not babies, but I'll guarantee that he's kissing something."

Alexei laughed again. Isaac was notoriously flirtacious. "Come on, let's get going."

***

Royal Docks, Vancouver
Isaac Saarad leaned over the railing, looking into the grayish water below him. "Why'd my ancestors have to pick the Pacific Northwest to live? It's so bloody depressing here. Always raining or something."

The man next to him laughed. Daisuke Saito was an officer in the Army. Despite his small stature (he was only 5'8", very short compared to most Malkyeri), he was very skilled at the art of intimidation, when he wanted to be. Isaac figured the eyepatch had something to do with it. "How goes the plan?"

"What, you mean the Families?" He waited for Isaac to nod before continuing. "Pretty well. The several we've approached have been very...amenable to your offer."

"Good. And our contact in the Kazaki government?"

"In place, and he has information. One of my lieutenants is meeting with him shortly."

"Excellent work, my friend. When this is done, I will see you rewarded. Your homeland will be brought into the fold, and you will be my governor there."

Saito smiled, a cold and frightening expression. Isaac walked away, and headed back to the coffeehouse where he'd left his escort. Things were going well.

Downtown, Sacramento
There he was, drinking his coffee. Issac’s contact within the Kazaki government. Major Danielle Nailen sat down at the table next to him, ordering a cup of tea.

“It’s a bright cold day in April,” she said. He looked at her over the tp of his newspaper.

“What is it you want?”

“Our mutual friend wants a promise of aid from your nation when things come to a head.”

“That’s quite a bit to ask,” he said. He still had not looked at her directly. Good tradecraft skills, this one.

“Oh come now, your government’s in too deep. If you abandon us, we can expose everything, slanted just enough to put all the blame onto Kazaki, and a few splinter factions of the Royal Army.”

The foreigner did not look happy. “I will relay your requests to my superiors. Good day. He set some money down to pay for his coffee and left. A few moments later, Nailen did the same, strolling away leisurely in a different direction.


OOC1: Halberdgardia and OK, you can post your people's arrivals now, and Kazaki, you can go ahead and post something about your government reacting.
OOC2: This is a closed RP between myself, Kazaki, Ottoman Khaif, and Halberdgardia. If you want in, post here (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=428036) or send me a TG, and I'll consider it.

Vancouver International Airport

The Gulfstream had come to a stop in the middle of the snowy landscape. Emblazoned with the Great Seal of Halberdgardia on both sides, it was obvious at a glance that this was a craft carrying someone of importance. Anyone who cared to conjecture that would have been correct. Dressed in a fine suit underneath a heavy trench coat that was better suited for the wintry Malkyeri landscape, Halberdgardian Secretary of State Kenix Kil stepped down the stairs of the Gulfstream, preceded by a half a dozen Secret Service agents, who appeared unarmed, but were actually armed with God-knows-what. Surprisingly, there was no one ready to meet them.

"Jesus H. Christ," Kil muttered as he stepped into the light snow on the ground, for once safely out of the reach of the ever-invasive press, "is it really goddamned cold here."

The Secret Service agents remained silent, though, lacking the trench coat Kil was wearing, he was sure they agreed. One of them suddenly lifted a hand up to the earpiece he was wearing, nodded, then said, "Acknowledged." He looked up at Kil. "That was Malkyeri Control, Mr. Secretary. They say the welcoming party's on the way."

The Al Muslimeen ambassador for Malkyer ,Dr. Uthman al Saad bin Hussien left the Al Muslimeen Embassy in Vancouver. He was about 60 years old, he had serve as ambassador to many nations, during his lifetime and seen many places and things. Along with him were about six Imperial Black guardsmen, they headed to the Royal Palace by Limo, and they reach the Royal Palace in a short time. The Doctor got out of the limo with his guards, the same infamous guard that had nearly killed the Sultan and would do it again if allow to…. and offer the right price…they were the Imperial Black Guard.
“Well, this may get interesting.” Said Dr. Uthman al Saad bin Hussien to the Guards, has they wait for the meeting to began,

OOC: The agent that just met with Major Danielle Nailen is Agent Tom Daniels. Thats just for later in the RP I'll be using him again but by his name. For the sake of the RP we're going to assume Kazaki and Malkyer are relatively close. Maybe a small body of water between them or something? And Matt set up the meeting between the Major and Agent Tom.

The agent walks through the drizzling rain down the main street running infront of the cafe he just left.

Well this should prove to be intriguing. I'm sure Commander will have no problem in sending a few troops over here.

Turning onto a side street he finally spots the car that was placed for him to make a quick exit. He laughs softly to himself

Only Agent Flores would find a car like this for me. He'll get his when I return back in Kazaki

Striding confidently over to the drivers side he gets in the big SUV. Turning the ignition he roars out onto the main street and starts off to the border of the two countries

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

Lieutenant Colonel J.C. Webster's Office; 21:00

"So Tom, what is the news from Malkyer?" A tall man, obviously aged slightly but who still commanded respect from everyone, questioned in a low tone.

Agent Tom sips the wine he was given upon arriving at the Lt. Colonel's office, "Well sir, they just want certain aid when the time is right. But in my opinion it shouldn't be from the direct military. Perhaps one of the uh, how shall we say, more prestigious units. Fallen Angels possibly? Better yet; Gold Fire! We've been putting so much into them they need some battle testing."

"Ahh good choice. I'll notify the commander in charge of them to ready his men for battle. They have a full division I'm assuming? Ahh well no matter they will be deployed and if extra assistance is needed we'll deploy Fallen Angel." With this Webster opens the door for Agent Smith signaling the conversation was over.

When Agent Daniels left Webster slumps in his chair and looks at the pictures on his desk. One shows a portrait of a small girl with a older boy. Webster tries to supress a smile but even for this war-hardened man it is hard. His children are his life. The boy especially means very much to him, he gets along well with everyone and frequents diplomatic meetings with the President and the Lt. Colonel himself, so he is friends with most of the diplomats and their sons.

I wonder how Matt will take this. Isaac and him are good friends. Hmm well we'll see

Vancouver International Airport
About three minutes after the Secretary of State landed, the official welcoming party arrived at the tarmac. It consisted of several black SUVs and a single black limousine, a Caddillac. The cars came to a stop in front of the Secretary and his Secret Service protection. Several windows rolled down, revealing men in dark suits and sunglasses. The driver of the limo got out, and walked around to the other side of the car. A young man stepped out, and sauntered up to the delegation.

"Hey there, name's Alexei. I'm to take you to the Palace," he said, extending his right hand. His signet ring, a silver band with a design in gold, glinted in the sun. Upon closer examination, the design would be seen as an open book with a sword in the middle. "My father is looking forward to this meeting."

As he led the Secretary to the limo, he continued with simple conversation. "I hope we haven't kept you waiting too long. There was a traffic accident on the bridge, so we had to make a slight detour. It should be cleared up by now. The palace is about twenty minutes away."

Royal Palace, Vancouver
As Dr. Uthman al Saad bin Hussien and his guards drove up to the palace, two guards came up to them, to run the standard I.D. check. It was a pointless procedure, because the guards knew many ambassadors by sight, but the Malkyeri were nothing if not a people bound by procedure. The guards cleared the visitors, and opened the gate. The Ottomans walked the short path to the front door, where another two guards waited. The door was opened, and the Ottomans entered the palace and headed to the conference room. The Palace guards unconciously fingered their rifles as the Black Guardsmen passed. They, like most Malkyeri, remembered the terrible images that the Emperor had broadcast on the evening news of the Sultan al Bashir being gunned down while giving a speech. Understandably, the guards were nervous letting such people into the Palace.

A few moments later, the Halberdgardian delegation arrived, and went through the same procedure. They walked through the halls of the palace, and reached the conference room. A servant opened the door, and the Secretary of State entered, Dayan Saarad, Emperor of Malkyer, stood to greet him. "I trust that Alexei has not bored you too much?" He said this with a grin. "Please, meet Matthew," he said, gesturing to another youth in the corner, leaning against a wall. He straightened, and came to shake the hand of the Secretary. "He is my youngest son. I am afraid that Isaac could not be here today."

He waited for the Secretary to sit, and then began. "Gentlemen, I would like to begin by saying how glad I am that the nation of Halberdgardia has joined us this day. I hope that this can usher in a new era of friendship with those nations smaller than ourselves. Now, to the point. I asked you to come here today so that I might discuss a new initiative with you. I plan to sign into action a new agenda to bring economic reform to Malkyer, and finally get our economy stabilized, rather the see-saw effect we've been having for the past few years. Mr. Kil, Dr. bin Hussien, I would very much like to see Halberdgardian and Al Musilmeen investors take interest in Malkyeri products. Would it be possible for your respective offices to send me information as to what items Malkyer produces that your nations may find useful? Secondly, I'd like to..." Alexei and Matthew had long since stopped paying attention to the boring speech, but Alexei, being the Heir Apparent, was forced to maintain at least a pretense of interest. Matthew was letting his mind wander, though he kept his eyes focused on the glass of water in front of him. God, I'm glad I won't be the Emperor. It's so boring, and there's so much...responsibility, he thought.

***

Old Quarter, Vancouver
Daisuke Saito leaned against a tree in the park as Major Nailen told him the details of her exchange with Agent Daniels of Kazaki.

He grinned an evil grin. "Wonderful...I will have to let Isaac know that we have friends in high places."

OOC: Halberdgardia, I know it's Canada, but it's June, man. It's not that cold ;)

OOC: Halberdgardia, I know it's Canada, but it's June, man. It's not that cold ;)

OOC: Oops. When I came up with the scene, it played out in my mind as being in the middle of winter. Can we assume that there's a freak cold snap or something? ;)

IC:



Vancouver International Airport
About three minutes after the Secretary of State landed, the official welcoming party arrived at the tarmac. It consisted of several black SUVs and a single black limousine, a Caddillac. The cars came to a stop in front of the Secretary and his Secret Service protection. Several windows rolled down, revealing men in dark suits and sunglasses. The driver of the limo got out, and walked around to the other side of the car. A young man stepped out, and sauntered up to the delegation.

"Hey there, name's Alexei. I'm to take you to the Palace," he said, extending his right hand. His signet ring, a silver band with a design in gold, glinted in the sun. Upon closer examination, the design would be seen as an open book with a sword in the middle. "My father is looking forward to this meeting."

As he led the Secretary to the limo, he continued with simple conversation. "I hope we haven't kept you waiting too long. There was a traffic accident on the bridge, so we had to make a slight detour. It should be cleared up by now. The palace is about twenty minutes away."

Kil shook the young man's hand quickly but firmly.

"A pleasure to meet you, Alexei. Kenix Kil. I am also looking forward to meeting with your father; he sounds like a capable and honorable leader."

He glanced ever-so-briefly at the ring on the young royal's finger when the glare from the sun reflected off it into his eye for a brief second, but the glance would have been barely noticeable even if Alexei had been looking for it.

Interesting design, he thought. He nodded at the Secret Service agents, and they followed closely behind Kil and Alexei as they walked to the limousine.

"No, we actually just landed. I can understand why there would be a traffic jam too, what with this bit of odd weather you've been having. It's been quite some time since I saw cold weather like this. The landscape is quite beautiful with a layer of snow like this."

OOC EDIT: Hello, missed this part.



Royal Palace, Vancouver
As Dr. Uthman al Saad bin Hussien and his guards drove up to the palace, two guards came up to them, to run the standard I.D. check. It was a pointless procedure, because the guards knew many ambassadors by sight, but the Malkyeri were nothing if not a people bound by procedure. The guards cleared the visitors, and opened the gate. The Ottomans walked the short path to the front door, where another two guards waited. The door was opened, and the Ottomans entered the palace and headed to the conference room. The Palace guards unconciously fingered their rifles as the Black Guardsmen passed. They, like most Malkyeri, remembered the terrible images that the Emperor had broadcast on the evening news of the Sultan al Bashir being gunned down while giving a speech. Understandably, the guards were nervous letting such people into the Palace.

A few moments later, the Halberdgardian delegation arrived, and went through the same procedure. They walked through the halls of the palace, and reached the conference room. A servant opened the door, and the Secretary of State entered, Dayan Saarad, Emperor of Malkyer, stood to greet him. "I trust that Alexei has not bored you too much?" He said this with a grin. "Please, meet Matthew," he said, gesturing to another youth in the corner, leaning against a wall. He straightened, and came to shake the hand of the Secretary. "He is my youngest son. I am afraid that Isaac could not be here today."

He waited for the Secretary to sit, and then began. "Gentlemen, I would like to begin by saying how glad I am that the nation of Halberdgardia has joined us this day. I hope that this can usher in a new era of friendship with those nations smaller than ourselves. Now, to the point. I asked you to come here today so that I might discuss a new initiative with you. I plan to sign into action a new agenda to bring economic reform to Malkyer, and finally get our economy stabilized, rather the see-saw effect we've been having for the past few years. Mr. Kil, Dr. bin Hussien, I would very much like to see Halberdgardian and Al Musilmeen investors take interest in Malkyeri products. Would it be possible for your respective offices to send me information as to what items Malkyer produces that your nations may find useful? Secondly, I'd like to..." Alexei and Matthew had long since stopped paying attention to the boring speech, but Alexei, being the Heir Apparent, was forced to maintain at least a pretense of interest. Matthew was letting his mind wander, though he kept his eyes focused on the glass of water in front of him. God, I'm glad I won't be the Emperor. It's so boring, and there's so much...responsibility, he thought.

Kil smiled politely at the Emperor's greeting.

"Not at all, Emperor Saraad. In fact, he was quite amiable. It is an honor to finally meet you."

At being introduced to Matthew, Kil turned to face the young man, and gave him the same firm, quick handshake he'd given Alexei.

"A pleasure to meet you."

He then sat at the large conference table at the Emperor's gesturing, and settled in for the man's speech. Well, he thought, I've definitely been on worse diplomatic trips, and met with worse people. These Malkyeri know what they're doing.

He listened to the points the Emperor made on the Malkyeri economy. He found it slightly odd that the Emperor had said the economy needed some help, as all Halberdgardian intel on the subject said it was doing rather well, especially for a nation of over 1.7 billion people. But he knew that such intel also broadly generalized the state of the economy, putting a wide variety of conditions into sometimes-ambiguous categories. Therefore, he assumed that the Emperor was speaking of revitalizing certain sectors or industries. Regardless, though, he was sure that the President would like to quickly establish some sort of increased economic flow between the two countries.

"Coincidentally, Emperor Saraad, our own economy is at the highest point in our history. With all the increased economic activity in our country, I'm sure we have thousands of investors that would love to obtain Malkyeri products. We also have a rather large cadre of venture capitalists in Halberdgardia, so they would likely also be willing to invest in Malkyeri interests."

Dr. Uthman al Saad bin Hussien listen to Emperor Dayan Saarad speech about investment in his nation, yet something else was brothering the Dr. Hussien...he thought to himself..."they still think that the Imperial Black guardsmen are still not loyal to the State...we had pruge their ranks after they try to kill the Sultan...they are loyal to the State not to the Sultan...so if the state wanted them to kill the Sultan, they could do it...only in the name of the state..."

He began to speak after Dayan was finnish his speech

" I'll have to look into that, I belive that my nation would be greatly interested in investing your in nation..."He reply

As the meeting continued in the Palace, Isaac was on his way to San Fransisco. As his helicopter flew toward the city, he pulled out a lap top computer. Accessing a wireless network, he began to relay orders to his various underlings throughout the country. It was an ingenious method, he thought. A brilliant programmer in Saito's pay had come up with the idea.

Isaac logged into the website "Aunt Sally's Southern Cooking" as the Administrator. To the casaul observer, the recipes posted on the site were innocous recipes for various home-cooked meals. Indeed, many of them were nothing more than recipes. But one in five was something more: an elaborate code, that contained secret orders for the various cells throughout the country. He smiled as he punched in the last few codes, and then signed off. All too easy.

Royal Palace, Vancouver
One of the servants opened the door and cleared his throat. Dayan looked up at him. Something was not right. Servants in the Royal Palace never interrupted the Emperor when he was busy, unless it was something of grave importance. The last time had been to tell him that the Dracun Imperium had declared war on Malkyer. He asked the guests to pardon him. "Perhaps it is time we take a break. Feel free to ask the servants for anything you might need. Alexei, Matthew, be good hosts."

Dayan followed the servant to another room in the Palace, this one lined with monitors and various uniformed people doing things that seemed very important. An air of worry hung in the room. "What is it?"

The servant wrung his hands nervously. "M'lord, there are massive rolling blackouts in California," he replied.

Dayan raised an eyebrow, confused. "So? There have been blackouts in California before."

"Not just power outages, m'lord. We've lost contact with several naval and air bases throughout the empire, in North America, Australia, and Africa. Several of the lock gates in the Panama Canal have broken, we are unable to make contact with Viceroy Perides in Pretoria, and the RIA reports that all of it's geosynchronous satellites, as well as three orbitals, have been lost. We don't know if they've crashed, died, or are being jammed."

Dayan didn't speak for a moment. Finally, he asked a question. "What about High Command?"

The servant shook his head. "I've told you everything they told us, m'lord." Dayan sighed. If High Command didn't know what had caused it, chances were no one did.

An hour or two later, Dayan caught up with Dr. bin Hussien and Secretary Kil. "Gentlemen, I'm sorry, that something rather pressing has come up. I'm afraid we'll have to continue tomorrow. Doctor, you may return to the embassy if you'd like. Mr. Kil, I will have a car take you and your escort to the hotel." He saw his guests out, and as they left, he said to a servant, "Call Mr. Nagara. Have him put the military on DefCon 2. Also, make sure he alerts the reserve units that they may be mobilized in the near future." The servant nodded, and departed.

At the AMI Headquarters (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/Buildings/kgb.jpg ), Bursa, Al Muslimeen Turkey

In his office, Head of Al Muslimeen Intelligence- Khan Noonien Singh (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/V000628008C.jpg) was reviewing the latest report from Malkyer. He had call the other AMI heads for a meeting about the matter

Then came in Department head of the Al Muslimeen Intelligence –Sloan (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/sloan2.jpg) and Chairmen Head of the AMI Pavel Chekov aka Bester (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/bester.jpg) enter the room.

“ Good Gentleman, your on time..have you two seen the latest reports out of Malkyer?” Ask Khan

They both nodded and Bester began to speak

“Yes we have seen the reports, something is of amidst in Malkyer….I believe someone inside is trying to pull something in Malkyer..” He said

“Also we have not lost contact to our envoy in Malkyer, and the entire satellites networks of the Government, Arm forces, Space Agency and the AMI are working perfectly..it appears to be only happening to Malkyer satellites…it appear something big is going to happen soon..” remark Sloan

“I argee..that’s why we going to order about two sections of First Chief Directorate (Foreign Operations) to watch events as they happen in Malkyer and begin getting a number of our agents ready to go.” Said Khan
Then he dismiss the other heads and the meeting was over.

[OOC: Made up a hotel for him to stay in, hope you don't mind.]

Presidential Suite, The Hilton Embassy Suites Hotel, Vancouver, Malkyer

Kil was anxious. The Emperor had left the room abruptly at the behest of a servant, and had obviously heard some bad news, as he had come back an hour later somewhat shaken. Kil idly wondered what could have happened. He decided it was time to report back to Washington; they'd want to hear of his progress. He pulled out the secure SATPhone he used for his important communications, and dialed the code for secure drop-box that Washington would use to monitor his progress. The Secret Service men had already swept the room for bugs, and found none; but then again, Kil had hardly expected there to be any.

"Day 1, 1500 local time. Initial talks are proceeding nicely. The Emperor and his sons are quite amiable, and are just leaders. We were making excellent progress on discussing economic agreements when a servant pulled the Emperor from the talks. He came back an hour later, shaken, and dismissed us. I've no idea what the hell the servant told him, but it can't be good. Recommend the HCIA step up surveillance operations and attempt to determine what's going on. Will report more later as the situation develops. Kil out."

Commander Webster is surrounded by a group of men and women in formal business suits and they all stare at a singular screen.

"Well, I believe the start of this revolution is on the horizon. Mobilize Gold Fire and Fallen Angels. From what I percieve the Malkyeri government will have support from various allies in this period of civil unrest."

The group files out and heads off to their seperate offices to contact various elements of the military.

Webster stays in his office looking at the screen a last time before picking up the secure line to the President

It seems that this war has just begun

OOC: I'll have him talk to the President in the morning. I have more pressing matters like Sleep.

Secret Transmission:
HYA Secret Line
Encrypted Level 1
Encyrpted Level 2
Encyrpted Level 3

To: Issac, Malkyer
From: Defense Minister Shivdeep Singh
Subject: Aid and Protection

Space Union would like to "aid" you for your monarchy ambitions. We have found that you have the best qualifications for the monarchy unlike your brother Alexei. It would be rather unfortunate if your brother came to power. So in saying that, Space Union would like to assist you in gaining the thrown. We are ready to help in all ways possible including militarily. Your nation's new "leader" is a great issue in my nation. We hope for the better being you to come to the thrown of Malkyer and bring it back to its true power.

Signed,
Defense Minister Shivdeep Singh

OOC: Ironic, I'll be fighting my ally Halberdgardia. Oh well this RP is just for fun nothing against each other. I hope this turns out pretty good for all sides. :)

OOC: Ironic, I'll be fighting my ally Halberdgardia. Oh well this RP is just for fun nothing against each other. I hope this turns out pretty good for all sides. :)

OOC: Yeah, it'll be interesting to figure out how this'll work ICly...

OOC: Yeah, it'll be interesting to figure out how this'll work ICly...

From what Malkyers telling me, I think the endings going to judged by winner. Its not planned anymore so either side will determine the fait of Malkyer. Interesting :)

Malkyer:

Should we post the military forces that we are sending in this thread or the OOC thread?

OOC:
In the OOC thread. Ottoman Khaif has already done so, I'm not sure if anyone else has.

And for future reference, the Imperial Family's last name is "Saarad," just in case anyone didn't know that.


[...and here it is]

Isaac's base of operations, San Fransisco
Isaac smiled wickedly as he read the letter Saito had given him from Space Union. "This is wonderful, my friend. More and more people come into our camp."

Saito did not share Isaac's elation. "I still think we struck too early. All of our forces are not in place yet. If we move too soon, we could be in a dangerous position. If we wait too long, there's a good chance they could fix the damage before we're ready, and then they'd be prepared for us."

Isaac thought for a moment. Saito was correct. "So tell me, friend, what would you do?"

"Having weighed the risks of both problems, I say strike now. We can do the most damage while they're blind."

"What of the Ottomans?" The Khailfah Musilmeen was the only nation Isaac worried about. He had seen footage from their Civil War, and the Romulus wars.

"A large power, certainly, but it will take them time to mobilize. Besides, you're just going to take over and then crush the rebellion, right? No one will ever know you are affiliated with it." Saito grinned.

"That's true, my friend. The only problem is my dear brother. I'm afraid he'll have to be made 'unfit' to rule, somehow. Make it happen."

"Yes, m'lord."

***

Heisenberg Naval Base, San Fransisco
It was getting late, but the patrols were still alert. They were jumpy because of the way their commanding officers were acting, and the reports on the news. Something was seriously wrong in Malkyer, and no one knew quite what.

Across the base, at the water, sat seven warships, the pride of the Royal Navy. They were heavy battlecruisers, capable of taking on any ship in the world, and beating most. On of the patrols meandered by one of the ships, the HMS [I]Repulse, and one of the men paused to look at the massive vessel. "Shit, that thing's big," he said. His partner turned to look at him.

"Hitch, you say that every night. I mean, come on- Hey!" Out of the shadows, another soldier had approached. "You're early, Carl. Your's and Vance's shift doesn't start for another three hours."

Carl frowned. "I know." Before he was done speaking, he pulled a submachine gun from under his coat and opened fire, killing both the patrolling guards. He reached into his coat and pulled out a radio. "It's done. The docks are clear."

At the Base Command Post, Major Nailen acknowledged Carl's success. "Good job. I'm sending the divers in now." She clicked off the radio, and walked outside, the crunch of broken glass beneath her feet. The team of pseudo-special forces followed her outside, leaving the bodies of of the command crew behind. She looked over toward the docks. Even in the dim light, she could see the outlines of the large warships. Suddenly, several orange flashes erupted, followed by explosions. The ships began listing, and sinking into the water. They wouldn't sink very far. They wouldn't even submerge, but the ROyal Navy would not be able to recover them before the fighting ended, and this way Isaac would not have to build new warships when he took over.

Everywhere
Across the North American holdings of the Commonwealth, naval and air bases were sabotaged, and the soldiers stationed there killed. Several bridges were destroyed to create chokepoints along highways that could be easily targeted for ambush. ASAT missiles fired into the sky, knocking out numerous satellites. Unidentified special forces took over many small towns, and cities came under attack by armies flying a flag different from that of Malkyer. The banner they fought for was a white St. Andrew's Cross on a field of black.

Fighting became fierce every as rebels surged across the countryside, and loyal troops desparately trying to stem the tide. The Imperial Family were taken to San Fransisco, far from the hottest fighting. There, it was figured, they would be safe.

Two separate calls went out that night. One was a broadcast by Emperor Dayan Saarad, calling for help. The other was a secret communique to the friends of Isaac from Colonel Saito, with a simple and clear message: It has begun.

Presidential Suite, The Hilton Embassy Suites Hotel, Vancouver, Malkyer

"Shit!" was Kil's reaction upon seeing a string of explosions erupt in and around Vancouver as Isaac's agents sabotaged military installations across the city.

The six Secret Service agents were instantly in the room. All of them had silenced MP5s drawn.

"Mr. Secretary, it's time to go. We're getting out of here; it's obviously not safe for you anymore."

Shaken, Kil got, grabbed his overcoat, threw it on, and moved to the door. "I won't argue with you on that."

Two of the Secret Service agents pushed their way past Kil as he was about to exit. "We'll go first, Mr. Secretary."

Kil wasn't about to argue. The men were simply doing their job. The two who went first quickly stepped out into the hall to either side of the door, bringing their MP5s up as they did so. They called out, "Clear!" to their comrades in the suite, and Kil exited the suite, boxed in by the other four agents.

"We've gotten in contact with some of the Emperor's aides, sir," one of the agents said to Kil, "and we've made arrangements for you to meet with him again before you leave the country. He's currently in a safehouse in San Francisco right now. It's away from most of the fighting, so we'll be relatively safe there."

Minutes later, the Gulfstream had left Vancouver International Airport, thankfully unscathed by the sabotage attacks sweeping Malkyer, and was in the air en route to San Francisco. One thought was dominating Kil's mind:

What the hell is going on here?

OOC: Malkyer, do you have a map of your country?

OOC: Sorry guys I wasn't here yesterday to make the post. So anyway I'll do it when I get back from work. I'm only working for about 5 hours today so it shouldn't be too long.

I'll post my military forces too

OOC: Italics=Thoughts

It was dawn that morning. Supreme Admiral Sidhu was strolling across the deck of the SUS Yarsh. The SUS Yarsh was the command ships for the 1st Technocratic Armada. But because he was the Supreme Admiral, the SUS Yarsh also served as the command ship for the 2nd Federal Armada. The SUS Yarsh was a brilliant ship. It was one of the six Couragous-Class Super Dreadnaughts in Space Union's Navy. He was proud of the ship. It was one of the world's biggest ships and it was her first assignment. He hoped that it would make it back to port after the war.

But Sidhu soon turned his attention to a much more important matter: The Malkyer Civil War. Space Union was entering another nation's civil war to support rebel troops against a authoritarian monarchy.

Sidhu: The guy, Issac, really looks like a magnificent man. He better goddamn take over the country. From what I know we're spending over $800 billion alone on this war!

As Supreme Admiral Sidhu pondered to himself, Captain Cren came in.

Cren: Sir, were nearing the southern tip of Malkyer. According to intelligence, there is a port near the area and it is controlled by Rebel troops. Should we procede with asking premission to dock?

Sidhu staired at Captain Cren. Cren was a large man in a stature and was in his mid-20s. He knew that Cren could possibly not make it home. Not only that but his other sailors might not either. He treated them like his brothers. By docking he might as well be writing their death sentence. But he knew his duty was with his nation.

Sidhu: Very well, procede with gaining premission to dock. I doubt we even need it. Issac seems like a reasonable man that wants as much help as he can get.

Cren: very well, Sir!

Cren started walking out the door before pausing. He turned around to face the Admiral.

Cren: Sir, I hope you know that we will be facing our ally Halberdgardia as enemies.

Sidhu's face turned sadden and pale. He had known this information but the information was still tormenting him self. He would be killing his ally's men, women, ships, and spirits.

Sidhu: Yes I know, but this has to do with politics not the navy. Politicans always have a way to screw things up.

Cren hesitated before finally leaving the deck. As Cren walked to the Transmission Room he knew that this was a war that he personally didn't want to fight especially against his brothers in Halberdgardia. He entered the room as he wiped tears from his eyes before talking:

Cren: Radio in to Issac. Tell him that we are ready to dock and request premission. We have the 1st and 2nd Armies with us too.

The Radio Officer began sending the message. If all went well, Cren would be on shore in a few hours.

OOC: I hope you don't mind me not posting leaving the docks. I think that is just unnessessary. :)

bump

OOC: OK, since Malkyer hasn't responded yet, I'll RP Kil arriving in San Francisco; from there, I'm assuming the Emperor will have someone pick Kil up and take him to the safehouse, or wherever's he's staying, in San Francisco.

San Francisco International Airport, San Francisco, Malkyer

The Gulfstream touched down at SFO as gracefully as it had at Vancouver, although the moods of its occupants were not quite as optimistic as they had been at that time. En route to SFO, he had gotten some intelligence from the HCIA regarding the situation in Malkyer. Reports were sketchy, but they suggested that someone in the Malkyeri government was leading a rebellion against the monarchy, and that the explosions across Malkyer were the rebels' doing: acts of sabotage. The only other thing that was known was a list of the regions that were more-or-less rebel-controlled: Oregon, Idaho, Montana, Arizona, Baja California, and Sonora.

The six Secret Service agents stepped out of the plane first, MP5Fs drawn, then signaled for Kil to come out. He stepped out, wary of his surroundings. Even though California was still under Loyalist control, there was no telling the degree to which rebel agents could have penetrated into California. The Secret Service agents certainly weren't taking any chances.

One of the agents tapped his earpiece, and then starting speaking.

"Emperor Saraad, this is the Halberdgardian delegation. This is an encrypted transmission, so you may speak freely, sir. The Secretary has landed at SFO, and he would like to meet with you again. We have received intelligence suggesting that there is an open rebellion against your government. Requesting information regarding your location so that you and the Secretary can confer about the situation as it develops. Over."

When word of Emperor Dayan Saarad calling for help to crush this rebellion reach Sultan Suleiman Al Bashir II, after calling a meeting of his Ministers and advisers after heavy debating, they agree to send aid to their friends of Malkyer. As the Head of the Al Muslimeen Arm forces, he had the right to appoint commanding officers and etc to lead the KLM forces for this war. He appointed Field Marshal of the Al Muslimeen Army Fyodor Ivanrovich Petrovic to lead the army forces, Fleet Admiral Osman Pazvantoglu to lead the Navy forces and Air Marshal Alexander Nikolayevich Lodygin for the Air Force, these were the commanders of the KLM Task Force to save Loyalist Malkyer. Then the Sultan sends a highly encoded message to Emperor Dayan Saarad…


To: Emperor Dayan Saarad
From: Sultan Suleiman Al Bashir II
Topic: Aid

My dear friend, I have answer your call for aid in this rebellion in your nation. I am sending my best of the best Black Legion army cores, along with other army units to support you in this rebellion. Also my Fleet and Air Force will do their best to aid your forces in this war, rest assured those who have done this to you, will pay dearly for, I promise you that. One term I am also sending a number of advisers and my Black Hawks Special Forces , the following the units from the Black Hawks are being send to you. They are Alpha Group, Beta Group, and Night Group and Red Group (100 men per group) under the personal command of AMI Black Hawks Head- General Fyodor Karamazov (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/PrestonLG.jpg) , they will help your force root out these rebels. These forces will come to support your forces as soon as they can get to your nation.

Signed
Sultan Suleiman Al Bashir II ( http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/73.jpg )

Two Weeks later

Throughout major navy bases in the Al Muslimeen Southeast Asia, a massive Fleet made up of the 2nd Fleet Carrier battle group, 30th Fleet, 8th Flag fleet, “The Grand Fleet “20th Battlegroup Fleet, 1st Amphibious Assault Force and 2nd Amphibious Assault Force and along with countless numbers of troop transports steam out of the harbors of the Al Muslimeen ports and set a course to Malkyer California .It will take about another two week or three to get to California to support the their allies in arms. The Massive fleet itself made up around 200 to 400 ships heading to support Loyalist Malkyer, including many subs that order to began hunt and kill missions against Rebel ships.. Help was on the way for Malkyer loyalist faction.

OOC: Sorry about the late reply, but I have family visiting and wasn't able to use the computer yesterday. This post is mostly replies to you guys, I'll try to have a better one tongiht.

IC:
Colonel Aleksander Kuslov was looking over a map of the surrounding area when the call came in from the Space Union ships. His adjutant, a captain by the name of Lewis, stepped in to inform him.

"Colonel, shall I have them dock and begin unloading their troops?"

"By God, yes, Captain. It won't be long before the allies of the Emperor send troops, and we need to be as entrenched as possible by then," he replied. Lewis nodded, and headed back to the command room at the base.

"SUS Yarsh, begin unloading your forces at Dock 263-A. We'll have officers there to help get your men organized. We are in your debt," Lewis broadcast over the radio. Finally, he thought, we can get this show on the road. The rebels and Loyalists were about equal in the air, and on land the rebels had the advantages of surprise and extensive sabotage, but at sea the Loyalists were superior, simply because the rebels had no ships of their own. Now that friendly troops were arriving, the fight would likely be over soon.

San Fransisco International Airport, San Fransisco
Some twenty minutes after the Halberdgardian plane had landed, four Stryker APCs and a couple of Imperial Mk. I MBTs arrived at the airport. A young officer, a major, hopped out of one of the Strykers and beckoned for the Halberdgardians to come and get in.

"Sorry we're a bit late," he said. "But just because the city belongs to us doesn't stop some jackasses from trying to shoot us. When that happens, naturally, we blow them to Hell and gone. But enough of that, I'm to take you to the base where we've got the Emperor and his family. You'll be safe there." He helped the Halberdgardians into the APC, and climbed in after them. Once everyone was onboard, the driver sped off down the road toward the Royal Army Base.

To: Sultan Suleiman Al Bashir II
From: Emperor Dayan Saarad

I fear that night is falling on Malkyer, and the presence of light in the form of our loyal friends is very much appreciated. I regret that I cannot write more at this moment, but I must supervise the war effort. Please know that I cannot express my gratitude at your timely assistance.

Signed,
Dayan Saarad.

Captain Cren received the message from Saito. As he went over he was much more happy this time than the time he had sent the message. As he left the room he rethought the splendid news that Halberdgardia and Space Union would remain allies and would have a cease-fire between the troops.

Cren walked on to the deck. It was sundown and night was fast approaching. Admiral Sidhu was standing next to the edge of the SUS Yarsh. As Cren neared the captain he began speaking:

Cren: Sir, we have gained premission to dock in the port. The port they specified was Dock 263-A. They have a staff ready to help unload the 1st and 2nd Armies.

Sidhu: Good. I like this Mr. Saito! Proceed with orders Captain, and once you are done unloading the 1st and 2nd Armies then radio in too me. I will then allow the Federal Armada to unload the 3rd and 4th Armies.

Cren: Yes, Sir! Will it be nessessary to take escort warships?

Sidhu: Why damn, no! Captain I think you should no better. These are allies of us! I find your conclusion very disturbing.

Cren: Sorry, Sir! I won't make the same mistake again.

Cren began walking away from the Admiral when Sidhu stopped him.

Sidhu: May god be with you.

Cren looked back at him. Even when Sidhu was mad, he never stayed that way for long.

Cren: Thank You, and may it be with you too, Sir!

Cren departed for the Radio Room. As he boarded the SUS Gurjeevan Transport ship he wondered if he would see the great SUS Yarsh again. She was a beauty and it would be sad to lose her. But he brushed that out of his mind quickly. As he paced into the control compartment of the ship he gave out a signal saying: Attention all Transport Ships: Follow the SUS Gurjeevan. We will be docking in Dock-263-A.

Cren walked away from the transmittor and sat down. He pondered the events of the day as the ship along with the other 300+ transport ships cruised from main fleet to the docks.

OOC: Fast Forwarding to Three weeks later

IC: Nearly three weeks have pass since the massive Al Muslimeen fleet left their homeports for Malkyer California, to support the Loyalist in the civil war. As for the 86 submarines that were assign to the Grand Fleet, began to break off from the massive fleet, and head off for their own missions such as firing cruise missles at rebel held base or hunting down supply bound to support the rebel cause. As the massive fleet headed closer to the Port of Los Angeles, Fleet Admiral Osman Pazvantoglu order all his carriers under his command to send out about 200 MiG-29s to patrol the skies above and around the Fleet, to make sure that no one tries to attack the fleet while docking. As the Fleet got into range to hail the Port of Los Angeles Authority to open up as many dock for his troop transports to began unloading of Al Muslimeen Forces. ..

On Board the Flagship of the Fleet, A.M.S.S Sultan (King Robert VI-class battleship)

Fleet Admiral Osman Pazcantoglu began send out a radio transmission to the Port Authority

“To Loyalist Port Authority of Los Angeles, please we need your permission to began docking our transports and unloading the troops to help you in your civil war. Please open up as many docks as you can..I have well over 400,000 troops in well over 500 transports. This is Fleet Admiral Osman Pazcantoglu out”

Commander Webster picks up the secure line to the President.

After a short pause a voice comes on "This is the President."

"Well sir, Do I have your authorization for Operation Blood and Iron? I trust my aids have given you a full over view."

"Ahh yes you have the go ahead of the Parliament and myself. Use any means neccessary I do NOT want Kazaki to be disgraced by this."

"Alright sir operations will commence immediately. Naval units will be deployed at nineteen hundred hours. The army will be deployed at twenty-one hundred hours. ETA is approximately 2 weeks if we do not meet resistance along the way. But our new navy could take care of anyone." Webster paused after saying this.

Atleast, I hope it can. We have by far one of the most superior navies in the world. It all depends on who will be aiding the government and if anyone besides us is aiding the rebellion

"Alright, Commander your ass in on the line for this one. If Kazaki is embarassed it will be you who will answer to Parliament and the press" With that the president hangs up.

OOC: I will post my fleet getting within Malkyer waters tomorrow morning. I have a few parties I have to make appearances at. Just updating to let ya'll know I'm still alive

The day was a hot day. There was no breeze and no moisture except for the one in the water bottles. Even those had a tendency to start boiling when the sailors took off the caps. Captain Cren stood waiting for a breeze. Yet none came. He turned around from the sea and looked at the dock.

It had been a couple of hours since docking took place. Captain Cren watched sailors and logistics take tanks, ammo, APCs, IFVs, artillary, and other sorts of vehicles out of the ship. On the other side, soldiers poured out in straight lines. Cren suspected they were heading off to base that was located a couple of kilometers from the harbor and port.

As he watched the men toil away he felt a pat on his shoulder. Cren turned around to face a tall man. The man was in his mid-30s and was built strong. He was over 6ft "5. Cren immediatly recognized the man. It was Supreme General Nitz. Cren embrased Nitz. Both had been great friends from the beginning of their careers.

Nitz: How have you been old buddy?

Cren: Good. I hear that your leading the ground forces here. You gonna knock those monarchists out of this country.

Nitz: Sure will. I'm going to put that Issac guy as King by the end of the year.

Cren: Is that say? Lets have a litter wager? If you put the guy into the spot in less than 1 year, I'll give you 10,000 Spaco Dollars. If you don't, you pay me 10,000 Spaco Dollars. How does that sound?

Nitz looked at Cren with surprise. But it soon faded and turned into joy.

Nitz: You got a deal. Cren your still a hoot.

As both of them talked they didn't notice the arrival of an Rebel Officer. The officer was small compared to either of them. But yet looking at his eyes made you scared of him. It was the kind of man that any red-neck, laz bag, no-good man would follow without question.

Officer: Greetings, Sirs! I would like to introduce myself. I'm one of Issac's aids. I've been instructed to take you to Colonel Saito to meet him in person. He will then discuss with you ground, air, and naval strategies. He will highlight areas to attack. All you need to know will be explained there.

Nitz and Cren looked at the man. Both of them had received news about it but they didn't want to leave there men. But finally both agreed.

Nitz and Cren: Very Well, take us to your vehicle.

Officer: We will be riding in an APC. Nessessary protection against the darn loyalist army. So follow me this ways, sir!

Cren, Nitz, and the officer went down the dusty road to an APC stationed on the curb. The men filed in and the APC took off to an unknown destination to meet the elusive Colonel Saito, second in command behind the mysterious rebels.

OOC: Hope you don't mind I made up an officer. I had to RP something. I hope also that you don't mind Saito meeting Captain Cren and Supreme General Nitz.

San Fransisco International Airport, San Fransisco
Some twenty minutes after the Halberdgardian plane had landed, four Stryker APCs and a couple of Imperial Mk. I MBTs arrived at the airport. A young officer, a major, hopped out of one of the Strykers and beckoned for the Halberdgardians to come and get in.

"Sorry we're a bit late," he said. "But just because the city belongs to us doesn't stop some jackasses from trying to shoot us. When that happens, naturally, we blow them to Hell and gone. But enough of that, I'm to take you to the base where we've got the Emperor and his family. You'll be safe there." He helped the Halberdgardians into the APC, and climbed in after them. Once everyone was onboard, the driver sped off down the road toward the Royal Army Base.

OOC: Sorry for the short post, but I've also got family over at a party, and don't have much time on the computer.

Kil gratefully accepted the major's offer, and quickly hopped into one of the Strykers after his Secret Service agents.

While en route to the Emperor's current lodgings, Kil tapped the young major on the shoulder. "Excuse me, Major, but do you have any new information on the rebellion? The HCIA managed to forward me some intel a few hours after the sabotage attacks, but it was relatively sparse."

Major Hereford shook his head. "Sorry sir, but everything's pretty chaotic. All we no is that civilans are streaming north, trying to get away from the fiercest fighting. The rebels control pretty much all of the eastern border provinces, and Loyalist troops don't cross the California border in anything less than a division-sized force." He tensed for a moment as the driver hit a pothole on the road, but realizing that it wasn't an attack, he continued filling in the Secretary of State.

"We haven't been able to hit back very effectively yet. You see, the rebels sabotaged most of our military aircraft on the ground, and scuttled the vast majority of our ships in harbor. The ones at sea are being rerouted to the Viceroyalties, to guard them while the Army and Marines fight it out here. Well, the Ottomans are coming, so we won't be blind and immobile for too long. Hmm, looks like we're about ten minutes from the Governor's Mansion, where the Royal Family is staying..."

***

As the Ottoman fleet approached Los Angeles, the pilots in the skies could see the hulks of warships lying dead in the water, where rebels had set explosives to deny them to the loyalists. Pillars of black, greasy smoke filled the air from the fires burning across the city.

General William Jones grinned at the Ottoman radio message. "Fools," he muttered. "This ain't no loyalist town. When the ships get in closer, open fire with all guns."

One of his staff officers, a colonel, look startled. "Sir? We've only got thirty thousand troops here, and no aircraft. They'll slaughter us," he said, before silencing himself. He had noticed Jones' hand move toward his sidearm.

"I know that, Colonel. But their superiority in numbers means nothing fighting in a tight urban environment like this. We learned that ourselves in Kratlocostan, remember?" He was referring to a battle in that civil-war racked nation in which two battalions of Malkyeri soldiers had annihilated a numerically superior force in the fight for the nation's capital.

"But still, sir, shouldn't we at least-"

"No. If you question my orders again, I will have you shot," he said, the look on his face allowing no argument.

"Yes, sir," replied the colonel, subdued.

In a few moments, Jones left the CP to oversee the attack on the Ottomans. The colonel, a man named O'Brien, muttered angrily to one of his colleagues, "The glory-hungry bastard's going to get us all killed, and for nothing," Though he didn't respond, his friend did not disagree either.

***

"Fleet Admiral Pazcantoglu, this is Los Angeles Port Authority, proceed to the docks. Only a few are open now, but we're working on clearing debris from the others. Everything should be fine by tomorrow morning."

When the Ottoman ships got close to the docks, hidden rocket batteries opened fire on the transports sending a massive barrage of missiles at them. Artillery followed suit, sending a rain of shells. Anti-air guns and SAM sites opened fire on the patrolling MiGs, and hell broke loose in LA.

The Al Muslimeen Fleet Admiral Osman Pazvantoglu did not send out any of the transports that carried the troops and amour to the port, he wanted to first test if this port was a loyalist one, so he order about six transport that were empty of any cargo to go the docks and test to see if the it was truly a rebel holdout or loyalist outpost and his test show him that it was a rebel city. All six empty cargo transports were lost with all hands…and about 10 MiG-29s were shoot down by AA fire from the Malkyer rebel forces.

Yet the Fleet Admiral shows no emotion to this event, he simply order for about 20 Harriers and 100 SU-37s to take off from the carriers and including 100 Ka-52 HOKUM B / Alligator Attack Helicopters to began attacking reported rebel positions in the area, and to aid the MiG-29s that were began to attack runs on the rebel SAM sites and other rebel areas, The Fleet Admiral didn’t even want to see troop shore to take the city for the loyalist faction, he could give less of a damn for the loyalist. all he wanted to do was to bomb the hell out of L.A. He had with him the combine might of the 2nd Fleet Carrier battle group, 30th Fleet, 8th Flagfleet, “The Grand Fleet “20th Battlegroup Fleet, 1st Amphibious Assault Force, 2nd Amphibious Assault Force and including a numbers of subs. He give the order all the battleships, missile cruisers and other ship that could fire cruise missiles and fire their battles at the city to get into range of the port and also the many SSBN subs got into range of the city and pick targets to attack.

Right before the shelling and firing of Cruise Missiles at Los Angeles, it was reported that Fleet Admiral Osman Pazvantoglu to have said the following to his staff , “ I am not wasting my bloody time trying to take this city, we are better off finding a loyalist port where we can land our forces and let them take the f**king city, but for now we have to find a bloody loyalist port, right before we leave this area to go north ,to loyalist San Fransisco. We are going to give the rebels a bloody nose for trying to trick us. We are going to glass these mother f**king and this city will be left in ruins after we done with these Malkyer Yankees!”

All fourteen battleships of the massive fleet began to fire their 18in to 20in guns depending on what class of ship it was at the rebel city, they were shelling the docks and anything within range…joining in that battle were the many cruisers and destroyers of the fleet join in the shelling, then the many ships and sub with cruise missiles began firing away, well over 280 missiles were fire at the city, petty much anywhere in the city was fair game to be attack and burn, as the Fighters planes return from their mission above the city, they were quickly fitted with napalm bombs and order to bombs entire blocks of the city where their reported rebels AA fire. They began to bomb the city with napalm and watched entire areas burn in the flames. From the decks of the many ships, Los Angeles was completely cover in flames and thick black smoke..after six hours of shelling and bombing the city, the one of the Fleet Admiral officers ask how much longer would they attack the city itself, he reply” In till I said so.”

OOC: Fleet Admiral Osman Pazvantoglu is base off of the this rl guy http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Osman_Pazvantoglu, so it will explain why he is a bit insane.

OOC: Malkyer don't forget to reply to my RP. Thanks :)

Major Hereford shook his head. "Sorry sir, but everything's pretty chaotic. All we know is that civilans are streaming north, trying to get away from the fiercest fighting. The rebels control pretty much all of the eastern border provinces, and Loyalist troops don't cross the California border in anything less than a division-sized force." He tensed for a moment as the driver hit a pothole on the road, but realizing that it wasn't an attack, he continued filling in the Secretary of State.

"We haven't been able to hit back very effectively yet. You see, the rebels sabotaged most of our military aircraft on the ground, and scuttled the vast majority of our ships in harbor. The ones at sea are being rerouted to the Viceroyalties, to guard them while the Army and Marines fight it out here. Well, the Ottomans are coming, so we won't be blind and immobile for too long. Hmm, looks like we're about ten minutes from the Governor's Mansion, where the Royal Family is staying..."

Kil nodded. "I see. Thank you, Major. That's still more than I got from Washington."

Just then, one of the Secret Service agents spoke up.

"Shit," the man hissed venomously. The Secretary turned to give the man a withering glare, but the agent started talking first.

"Sorry, Mr. Secretary, Major, but I've just received bad news from Washington. The HCIA's redirected a spysat to hold above Malkyer 24/7, so we'll be getting better feeds now. But guess what that spysat saw as soon as it got into position? They say they've got photos of a rebel attack on the Ottoman fleet down in L.A. No word on Ottoman casualties yet, but they're certain the rebels hit some vessels and aircraft. The Ottomans apparently hit back pretty hard; the analysts in Washington say you can see almost all of L.A. up in flames from the sat photos."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Kil spat, finally breaking his own self-imposed moratorium on the use of profanity now that things appeared to be falling apart all around him. He turned back to face the front of the APC and Major Hereford. "Major, if you'll excuse the language, you can rest assured that we'll be sending aid. I'll have to consult with the Emperor first, get a better idea of what the hell's going on here, and then talk to Washington. But the President's not going to be happy about this, that's for goddamned sure."

OOC: Sorry about that, SU, I must've missed it.

Saito frowned at the knocking on his office door. Don't these bastards know I'm busy? Everything had been very hectic in the days since the rebellion began, what with the rebels having to covertly abandon their base of operations in San Fransisco. They had not expected the Loyalist government to flee there, and had been caught unprepared. Damn them, why didn't they go north like we always thought they would? "What is it?" he asked angrily as the knocking continued.

"Captain Harman, sir. I've got two officers from Space Union to see you, sir."

"God damn it, man, why didn't you say so?" He nearly jumped out of his chair and opened the door. He welcomed the two men in, and dismissed the captain. "Please, have a seat. And do forgive my language, but it has been a difficult time, as I'm sure you're aware. I regret that you can't speak with the Boss himself," he said, using the informal term for Isaac, "but he's in San Fransisco with the rest of his family, playing the part of concerned son."

After exchanging pleasantries, he continued. "Anyway, I suppose the best thing to do is just to tell you where you can turn your forces loose. The loyalist strongholds are primarily in the north, around Washington and Oregon, up as far as Alaska. They hold most of the coastline, except for Baja California and Sonora, and a few isolated ports in California. In fact, I believe that some of my forces have ambushed a group of Ottoman soldiers in Los Angeles. Fools didn't bother to check whether the port was held by the Emperor's men or not. Back to the topic at hand, though. The place where we need allied forces the most is the Columbia River Valley. If we can take that, we'll cut the Loyalists in half and California will wither and fall into our hands. That will leave us with most of the industry and resources of the North American viceroyalty, and leave the Loyalists vast areas of undeveloped forest and tundra. Send your forces there, if you please, gentlemen," he concluded. "Any questions?"

***

As Los Angeles burned, the rebel soldiers prepared themselves for an attack by the furious Ottomans. As machine guns and light cannons were set up in the streets along the waterfront, many of the rebels felt ill at the prospect of fighting. Not because of fear, because the Malkyeri were generally brave to a fault, but because over they years it had been drilled into their heads, both in civilian and military life, that the Ottoman Khaif, and now the Khailfah al Musilmeen, was the one nation that Malkyer could always count on, and one that Malkyer would always fight, and if need be, die for. The rebellious fighters felt sick at the idea of fighting their former friends. But loyalty was stressed also in Malkyer, and they would remain loyal to their own officers before any foreign nation.

***

A lone RAF fighter sped down the coast, toward the Ottoman fleet. Advance scouts had spotted the smoke and explosions from the battle, and radioed back to the Command Post at San Fransisco. The RAF had launched one of the few F/A-22s remaining in service, and sent it to the embattled fleet.

Once arriving, the pilot broadcast a pre-recorded message:
"Attention, Ottoman Fleet. Many of the ports in Southern California are held or besieged by rebels. Please reroute your forces to San Fransisco, where they can disembark safely."

The pilot realized that the message was too late to save many an Ottoman sailor, but perhaps it would do some good by preventing them from stopping at another treacherous harbor.

OOC: Halberdgardia, I'll post your guy arriving at the mansion soon, but I've just been called to visit with family, so I can't right now. Don't worry, by tomorrow I'll be able to devote more time to this, and I want to thank you guys for being patient with my lack of participation in my own RP.

OOC: Halberdgardia, I'll post your guy arriving at the mansion soon, but I've just been called to visit with family, so I can't right now. Don't worry, by tomorrow I'll be able to devote more time to this, and I want to thank you guys for being patient with my lack of participation in my own RP.

OOC: Roger that. Have fun with your family; NS shouldn't consume all our time, IMO. ;)

After shelling the City for 10 hours non stop, Fleet Admiral Osman Pazcantoglu order his ships to stop shelling the city, after hearing the loyalist message. The Fleet Admiral spoke to the Fleet Captain Curzon of the A.M.S.S. Sultan (the Flagship).

“Well, Captain …I guess these rebels truly think that they sank some of our cargo ships full of troop and other key items…how naïve. Good thing I send out those empty transports with minimal number of crew on board to see if the port is loyal or not…it only cost me some six out date transports…let them think that they have hurt badly…now order our entire fleet to set a course to San Francisco and there we will unload our troops and etc.” stated Fleet Admiral Osman Pazcantoglu

“At once, Fleet Admiral…you are truly a genius in art of navy warfare!” comment Fleet Captain Curzon

Then orders were send out for the fleet to leave L.A. and head to San Francisco, within 10 hours the entire fleet had left the area around L.A. and well on their way to San Francisco at full speed. Five days later, the fleet reaches San Francisco, to make sure that the docks were secure for the transports to dock and began unloading of their cargo and troops. Teams of Blacks Hawks and Marines were sending ahead to scout the head …after securing the docks. The Fleet Admiral gives the go ahead for the transports to dock, also he order about 100-MiG-29s and 100 SU-37s to take off from the carriers and the patrol the skies around the area. Then the massive transports began docking and the process of unloading had began.

Field Marshal of the Al Muslimeen Army Fyodor Ivanrovich Petrovic sends out a simple message to Emperor Dayan Saarad

His message just said
“ We are here to fulfill our promise and pay debt that we owe you for helping us in our time of need.” That’s all the message stated

For the Al Muslimeen forces, it was going to take sometime for them to get ready , they had to unload all the transports and get the army cores ready for combat.

The huge Kazaki fleet is about 20 miles off the coast of Malkyer by San Francisco.

The radio man turns to the admiral standing behind him "Should we radio in to see where they would like us to dock?"

Admiral Franker laughs at the radio man. "Well of course. Do you think everyone wants to sit out at sea this whole war? Of COURSE NOT! So radio them now!"

"SF this is Kazaki. Where should we dock our ships? We have around four hundred fifty thousand troops. Our transports are numbering in the six hundreds and counting."

OOC:Sorry for the short post I didn't want to just dock anywhere and have it be where people were bombing or anything. Plus there are people over I have to go talk to >.<

Dozens of dockworkers scrambled about, helping the Ottomans to unload their ships. Malkyeri officers met up with their Ottoman counterparts, filling them in on the situation, and letting them know where to go. Now that the Ottomans had arrived and the Halberdgardians had all but promised help, the Loyalists were ready to hit back, and they would hit hard.

***

As the armored convoy carrying the Halberdgardian Secretary of State arrived at the Provincial Governor's mansion, Dayan walked out of the front door to greet him, flanked by numerous guards. The guards looked nervous at having the Emperor so exposed and in an open area, but Dayan was to tired to care. He'd been awake for close to thirty hours now, kept going by caffeine and will power.

When the Secretary of State disembarked the Stryker, followed by Major Hereford, Dayan extended his hand. With a weak grin, he greeted the man. "I wish we could have continued our talks, but under the circumstances, I'm afraid that will have to wait," he said as he walked inside with the Secretary, the major, and the twon security details.

***

When word arrived that the Ottomans had arrived to the south, Saito knew that the fight would have to begin in earnest now. Hopefully the forces from Space Union would be able to hit the Columbia Valley soon, and the Loyalists would suffer a crippling defeat before ever having a chance to strike back.

When word arrived that the fleet from Kazaki was approaching San Fransisco, he sent an urgent message out to them:

"Kazaki Fleet, this is Colonel Daisuke Saito. Do not approach San Fransisco, repeat do not approach San Fransisco. The city has fallen into Loyalist hands after we were forced into a hasty retreat. Approach Los Angeles, which is held by our forces. We have just repelled an Ottoman naval assault on the city, and your troops would be much-needed reinforcements. I'm glad to see you've arrived."

With the message sent, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. I hope Isaac gets here soon. We need a figure-head as well as a leader, he thought.

***

Seattle, Washington Province
Here on the outskirts of Seattle, the Loyalist forces had just beaten back the third rebel assault since dawn. The city had only held because the troops of the Capitol Military District, having no sizable opponents to the north, had been sent south to keep the Columbia Valley open. Right now, some two-hundred thousand Loyalists held Seattle, the surrounding area, and about twenty miles of the Valley, with close to twice their number of Loyalists spread around throughout the land to the east.

Here, five miles from the city center, the 5th Brigade Mechanized Infantry held onto a stretch of ground protecting one of the key highways into the city, keeping it open for supplies. The north flank was positioned in an apple orchard. Private John Dufrane stood up gingerly, shook his leg that had fallen asleep, and picked an apple. It wasn't quite ripe, but he was starving. He quickly devoured the whole thing, and began looking for another that looked edible. The crack of a rifle rang out, and Dufrane fell, a hole gaping in the side of his head.

His squad leader, Sergeant Ardwain, shook his head. "Bloody idiot." Another trooper lying in the foxhole nodded. Ardwain sighed. "I guess the only way they'll ever learn to keep their heads down is to see a few of their buddies get cut down. Hand me your hat, lad."

The trooper took off his slouch hat, and replaced it with his helmet, which he'd taken off due to the heat. Ardwain put the hat on the end of a stick, and slowly poked it above the edge of the foxhole, like a soldier observing the distant enemy. Another shot rang out, tearing the hat from the stick. In quick succession, another shot was fired, this time from the Loyalist line, as a sniper targeted the muzzle flash. The rebel sharpshooter went down. The sniper jumped down from the tree, and zig-zagged over to Dufrane's body, keeping low. He stripped the body of supplies and ammunition, and zigged over to Ardwain's hole. "Here," he said, throwing the spare rifle clips into the hole. He kept the water for himsel, and departed, going to another tree to relocate himself.

"Bastard," Ardwain muttered when the man had gone. The younger trooper looked confused.

"Sarge?"

"Snipers. Bloody hunters, that's was they are. They aren't soldiers, they're murders. They hunt men," he spat. He didn't personally dislike the sniper, but spoke more to keep his mind off of the fact that a few hundred meteres away there was very likely someone doing the exact same thing, only that their rifle would point at Ardwain or one his men.

This war was a bloody mess, he thought. In more ways than one.

"Kazaki Fleet, this is Colonel Daisuke Saito. Do not approach San Fransisco, repeat do not approach San Fransisco. The city has fallen into Loyalist hands after we were forced into a hasty retreat. Approach Los Angeles, which is held by our forces. We have just repelled an Ottoman naval assault on the city, and your troops would be much-needed reinforcements. I'm glad to see you've arrived."

When the radio operator recieves this message he panics. The Admiral had just ordered a small patrol boat to go out. He gets up and wakes up his relieving officer.

"Watch the lines. I have to go tell the Admiral!"

The relief looks all bleary-eyed at the first and goes back to sleep once he runs out of the room.

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

Outside the Admirals office the radio officer almost runs into two armed men.

"I need to tell the Admiral something! It's urgent!"

"Ahh look little guy we have to go in and ask the admiral if he wants to see you. And what is your name?" The man on the left said in a thick southern accent.

"I'm the radio man, Klinkhammer! Tell him its of the utmost urgency it could jeopardize the whole war!" he was gettin frantic now.

"So what do you say George? We let him in?" the first man spoke.

"Sure Carl he seems to be some what important." The second man said quietly.

They let him in and Klinkhammer tells Admiral Franker about the situation
----------------------------------------
3 minutes later.

Just as the patrol boat is about to pull away it is recalled. The crew is told if they had gone any earlier they would have run straight into sure death. The whole fleet follows the flag ship the KUS Maeliki towards San Francisco.

The Admiral standing on deck looking around and rubbing his temples.

That was a close call. I wonder if the Loyalists have seen us? I sure hope not I would rather get to land before we have to engage. Although this state of the art navy could take on just about anyone.

OOC:Sorry about the rubbish quality. I'm rushed on time once again. I need a good time when I can just sit down and do it haha

Captain Cren and General Nitz looked at the map. They stared for a couple of minutes before Nitz spoke:

Nitz: Very well. I'm going to dispatch the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Corps to the region. That should be enough to handle the job. If reinforcements are needed we will have the 4th Corp in the neighborhood.

Cren looked at Nitz. He knew that there was probably not that many loyalist troops in the area left after a couple of waves from the rebel forces the previous days.

Cren: I'm pretty sure the moral is down in the region for the loyalist from all those waves you sent of rebels. Even tho those were tactical defeats for the rebels they have helped us strategically. The loyalist have given us needed information such as the amount of troops stationed in the area and key sniper and trap areas.

Nitz: Yes that is correct. We can use this information to our advantage, Mr. Saito. I believe we will start out this war with the capture of Columbian River Valley. Once we capture that and Seattle, we will have the strategic advantage in this area. Like you pointed out, we will effectively cut-off California Loyalists from the Northern Loyalist. But the key victory will be that San Fransico will be under our control along with the monarch family. I believe if we concentrate on capturing California we will effectively win this war in a decisive victory for Issac.

As Cren and Saito nodded, Nitz got a call from the docks. It was his assistant, Buen

Buen: Sir, we are ready. We have unloaded the all the equipment and troops. Everyone is ready to begin when you command, sir.

Nitz: Good. Start moving troops out to the Columbian River Valley. That will be our first target. Send the 1st-3rd Corps but have the 4th Corp near the area if reinforcements are needed. Understand.

Buen: Yes, Sir. All will be done.

Nitz hung up the phone before talking

Nitz: I've told them to start moving out. We will engage effectively in 1 week if no bad weather occurs. I dought that will be a problem, though.

Cren and Saito nodded again. Cren began talking:

Cren: Very well, we will have to leave for base. I have to get in-touch with Admiral Sidhu. It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Saito.

OOC: You don't mind if I rushed the unloading. I thought people might want to get in the fighting faster ;)

As the armored convoy carrying the Halberdgardian Secretary of State arrived at the Provincial Governor's mansion, Dayan walked out of the front door to greet him, flanked by numerous guards. The guards looked nervous at having the Emperor so exposed and in an open area, but Dayan was to tired to care. He'd been awake for close to thirty hours now, kept going by caffeine and will power.

When the Secretary of State disembarked the Stryker, followed by Major Hereford, Dayan extended his hand. With a weak grin, he greeted the man. "I wish we could have continued our talks, but under the circumstances, I'm afraid that will have to wait," he said as he walked inside with the Secretary, the major, and the two security details.

"I don't blame you, Emperor Saraad."

Kil walked side-by-side with the Emperor back into the mansion, with the Secret Service agents and Malkyeri guards conversing with one another in low voices.

"I've heard some news about the rebellion from our own HCIA, Emperor Saraad, as well as your own Major Hereford," Kil said, gesturing at Hereford as he mentioned him. "Do you have any additional information on the situation? I'm trying to get as accurate a picture of the situation here before I make my report to the President, as that will likely be what he bases his decision on."

Dayan nodded. The men stepped into a large conference room, and one of the aides pressed a button on the table, which projected a large map onto the wall. It depicted the Viceroyalty of North America, with some provinces in red, others in blue. The red were primarily along the eastern border, and the blue along the coast. There were also some gold and purple splotches on the map.

"This is the Viceroyalty of North America, as you're well aware. As far as we can tell, there isn't any fighting in the other three Viceroyalties, or the various colonies. However, the military forces we have in those territories are need to make sure that other nations do not try to take our lands away during a perceived time of weakness, so I don't imagine they'll be of much help. The Australians may send troops, but I'm afraid that the Carribean and Cape Viceroys also have to contend with the possibility of internal rebellion." It was well known that the Guatemalans, and several African tribes, were not huge fans of the Imperial Commonwealth.

"This map here shows the force allocations of both sides, as accurately as we can tell. The blue areas are held by Loyalist troops, and red areas by rebels. Now, as you can see here, and here," he said, pointing to several red spots within the blue territory, "the rebels hold some towns and swathes of land within our territory, and we hold some areas in theirs," he said, pointing to some blue spots in the red. "These gold triangles are the locations of landed Ottoman troops, and the ovals represent their fleet. They fought a bit of an engagement at Los Angeles a few hours ago, but now they've come up to SanFran and have begun to get their troops on the ground. I'm going to send them south, to Sonora and Baja California," the two provinces he marked were predominantly red, "because, hell, who better to fight in a desert than the Turks and Arabs, eh?" The weak effort at a joke was followed by an equally weak grin, and then his face became serious again. "The purple circles show the approximate locations of foreign units helping the rebels. As you can see, they're primarily located here and here. One of the fleets passed fairly close to SanFran, and our spotters identified ships as coming from Kazaki. We aren't sure about the others."

He paused as an aide handed him a cup of tea. He took a long drink of the hot liquid, and realized that it had been "fortfied," in fact, it was nearly half brandy. It burned his throat, and relieved the worst of the fatigue. He resumed speaking.

"Now, the main question is why? That's probably what your president wants to know the most, and it's the one thing that could very well take us till the end of the war to find out. The one thing I can say for certain is that their intent is to overthrow my family, or the government in general, and replace it with something else. They certainly aren't separatists. They've effectively pushed us out of the eastern provinces, except for the aforementioned pockets of resistance. If their aim was to create a new nation, they would now form a defensive line to keep us out. Instead, they keep throwing men and materiel at us. Sometimes they beat us, sometimes we beat them. We've got definite ground superiority along most of the front, except for here and here," he said, pointing to the Columbia River Valley in Washington and a stretch along the California-Arizona border. "The problem is, they've all but crippled our air and naval assets, plus they have the most valuable weapon: surprise."

He closed his eyes, and rubbed his temple. Looking up at Secretary Kil, he sighed. "That's all I can tell you for sure. Anything else is just speculation." A knock on the door stopped him. "Yes?" The door opened, and a man wearing the uniform of a four-star general stepped in. He saw Kil, and nodded.

"Bernard Thomas, sir. I'm in command of this theater. M'lord Emperor," he turned to Dayan, "I've come to let you know that we've taken back several of the smaller towns along the Nevada border. Most of the rebel presence in the province is now contained in the far south, along the Baja and Arizona borders."

Dayan smiled. Not one of the weak grins from a few moments ago, but a smile that showed renewed strength. This victory was not much, but it was a start.

The speakerphone beeped. "Your Highness, urgent message from the young master Isaac's convoy," said the secretary outside.

Dayan raised an eyebrow, and got out of his seat to walk to the phone on the other end of the table. He explained to Kil, "I sent my sons out to some of the front-line units, Matthew to visit the troops and raise morale, and Alexei and Isaac to command companies of men. The twins both have military background, and I need all the capable officers I can get," he said. Malkyer had compulsory service at age eighteen for a year for all males, and at nineteen both Alexei and Isaac held lieutenant's commissions.

"Father, we've come under attack by a rebel force," Isaac's voice, garbled by static, reported. "I don't know where they came from!" Everyone in the room could here fear in his voice. "We've holed up in a warehouse at the edge of town, but I don't know how long we can hold. We need immediate evacuation, repeat, we need immediate evac--" The transmission cut off as the sound of an explosion blurred into static.

Dayan nearly screamed into the speaker. "Isaac! Isaac, can you hear me? Isaac?" He looked at Thomas. "Where is he?"

"Bridgeport, sir."

Dayan spoke very quietly. "Send a rescue force. Kill anyone who stands in your way."

Thomas saluted sharply. "Sir!" He turned and walked out of the room, to organize a rescue.

Dayan turned to face Secretary Kil. He seemed to stare through him, into space.

***

Isaac grinned as the officer helped him out from under the desk. Isaac had crawled under it to shield himself from the blast which had destroyed the radio transmitter. As he dusted himself off, he looked around him in the warehouse. There were several men standing, some in rebel uniforms, some in Loyalist regular uniforms, though with a red armband tied around the left shoulder. They were all rebels. The true loyalists, about twenty men out of the original sixty, lay dead on the floor where they had been shot in the back by their supposed comrades. Their leader, Isaac, had knowingly lead them into an ambush.

"How'd it go, sir?" The officer looked at him, unsure of how to conduct himself around royalty.

Isaac's grin turned serious. "The old fool bought it. He's sending a rescue force, no doubt. You know what to do. If he or Alexei is with the column, kill them. Nothing fancy, though. They don't deserve it. But if my dear brother Mattie is with them, give him food and water and turn him west. I have no wish to see him dead."

"Sir, yes, sir!" The officer saluted as Isaac jumped onto the waiting helicopter. The chopper would take him to San Diego, and from there to Guaymas, in Sonora, the southern command center for the rebel operations.

Dayan nodded. The men stepped into a large conference room, and one of the aides pressed a button on the table, which projected a large map onto the wall. It depicted the Viceroyalty of North America, with some provinces in red, others in blue. The red were primarily along the eastern border, and the blue along the coast. There were also some gold and purple splotches on the map.

"This is the Viceroyalty of North America, as you're well aware. As far as we can tell, there isn't any fighting in the other three Viceroyalties, or the various colonies. However, the military forces we have in those territories are need to make sure that other nations do not try to take our lands away during a perceived time of weakness, so I don't imagine they'll be of much help. The Australians may send troops, but I'm afraid that the Carribean and Cape Viceroys also have to contend with the possibility of internal rebellion." It was well known that the Guatemalans, and several African tribes, were not huge fans of the Imperial Commonwealth.

"This map here shows the force allocations of both sides, as accurately as we can tell. The blue areas are held by Loyalist troops, and red areas by rebels. Now, as you can see here, and here," he said, pointing to several red spots within the blue territory, "the rebels hold some towns and swaths of land within our territory, and we hold some areas in theirs," he said, pointing to some blue spots in the red. "These gold triangles are the locations of landed Ottoman troops, and the ovals represent their fleet. They fought a bit of an engagement at Los Angeles a few hours ago, but now they've come up to SanFran and have begun to get their troops on the ground. I'm going to send them south, to Sonora and Baja California," the two provinces he marked were predominantly red, "because, hell, who better to fight in a desert than the Turks and Arabs, eh?" The weak effort at a joke was followed by an equally weak grin, and then his face became serious again. "The purple circles show the approximate locations of foreign units helping the rebels. As you can see, they're primarily located here and here. One of the fleets passed fairly close to SanFran, and our spotters identified ships as coming from Kazaki. We aren't sure about the others."

He paused as an aide handed him a cup of tea. He took a long drink of the hot liquid, and realized that it had been "fortfied," in fact, it was nearly half brandy. It burned his throat, and relieved the worst of the fatigue. He resumed speaking.

"Now, the main question is why? That's probably what your president wants to know the most, and it's the one thing that could very well take us till the end of the war to find out. The one thing I can say for certain is that their intent is to overthrow my family, or the government in general, and replace it with something else. They certainly aren't separatists. They've effectively pushed us out of the eastern provinces, except for the aforementioned pockets of resistance. If their aim was to create a new nation, they would now form a defensive line to keep us out. Instead, they keep throwing men and materiel at us. Sometimes they beat us, sometimes we beat them. We've got definite ground superiority along most of the front, except for here and here," he said, pointing to the Columbia River Valley in Washington and a stretch along the California-Arizona border. "The problem is, they've all but crippled our air and naval assets, plus they have the most valuable weapon: surprise."

He closed his eyes, and rubbed his temple. Looking up at Secretary Kil, he sighed. "That's all I can tell you for sure. Anything else is just speculation." A knock on the door stopped him. "Yes?" The door opened, and a man wearing the uniform of a four-star general stepped in. He saw Kil, and nodded.

"Bernard Thomas, sir. I'm in command of this theater. M'lord Emperor," he turned to Dayan, "I've come to let you know that we've taken back several of the smaller towns along the Nevada border. Most of the rebel presence in the province is now contained in the far south, along the Baja and Arizona borders."

Dayan smiled. Not one of the weak grins from a few moments ago, but a smile that showed renewed strength. This victory was not much, but it was a start.

The speakerphone beeped. "Your Highness, urgent message from the young master Isaac's convoy," said the secretary outside.

Dayan raised an eyebrow, and got out of his seat to walk to the phone on the other end of the table. He explained to Kil, "I sent my sons out to some of the front-line units, Matthew to visit the troops and raise morale, and Alexei and Isaac to command companies of men. The twins both have military background, and I need all the capable officers I can get," he said. Malkyer had compulsory service at age eighteen for a year for all males, and at nineteen both Alexei and Isaac held lieutenant's commissions.

"Father, we've come under attack by a rebel force," Isaac's voice, garbled by static, reported. "I don't know where they came from!" Everyone in the room could here fear in his voice. "We've holed up in a warehouse at the edge of town, but I don't know how long we can hold. We need immediate evacuation, repeat, we need immediate evac--" The transmission cut off as the sound of an explosion blurred into static.

Dayan nearly screamed into the speaker. "Isaac! Isaac, can you hear me? Isaac?" He looked at Thomas. "Where is he?"

"Bridgeport, sir."

Dayan spoke very quietly. "Send a rescue force. Kill anyone who stands in your way."

Thomas saluted sharply. "Sir!" He turned and walked out of the room, to organize a rescue.

Dayan turned to face Secretary Kil. He seemed to stare through him, into space.

Kil stood there, stunned at the sudden loss of one of the Emperor's sons. He returned the man's intense stare, fighting the urge to turn his eyes earthward. Instead, he reached forward to grasp one of the Emperor's hands.

"My deepest sympathies, sir," Kil said softly. There was a prolonged silence before he spoke again.

"I must make my report to Washington regarding the situation here, Emperor Saraad, but I am sure that President Kanos will ensure that these rebels are brought to justice for what they have done to you and your country. If you will excuse me, do you have a secure communications room I might use to contact the President?"

"Yes, yes it's just around the corner, to your left," Dayan replied. He didn't take his gaze from the wall when Secretary Kil left the room.

***

The 95th Armored Cavalry Division, being the largest Loyalist force within fifty miles of Bridgeport, was assigned to conduct the rescue operation. The division's 950 MBTs, Rosian-made Imperial Mk. I's, would encircle the town and hit the rebels hard and fast, while the infantry moved into the town, with Strykers and other IFVs for support. Luckily, the warehouse was on the edge of town, so unless Isaac had been captured, it would not take long to find him. Any vehicles or men moving away from the town would be stopped and searched. The Loyalists would not tolerate this. Unfortunately, they did not know that they were headed straight for a trap, set by the very man they were trying to rescue.

OOC: I'll have a better post tomorrow when I'm not so tired (it's 12:31 in the morning here). Remember, if you've landed your troops, you can go ahead and engage the rebels or loyalists, and I'll post responses tomorrow.

"Yes, yes it's just around the corner, to your left," Dayan replied. He didn't take his gaze from the wall when Secretary Kil left the room.

Kil bowed his head slightly. "Thank you. Again, my deepest sympathies for your loss."

Kil slowly walked out of the room, maintaining his appearance of respect. When he was safely out of the range of the room, however, he sped up to his usual swift walking pace, and was immediately flanked by his Secret Service agents. He turned into the designated room, and found it unoccupied. He nodded to the Secret Service agents, and they spun on their heels and took up positions outside the door. Kil pulled out his SATPhone, and dialed in for his secure drop box. It was late in Washington, but someone would get his message soon enough.

"2231 local time, San Francisco, Malkyer. The civil situation here is getting progressively worse. Rebel forces have completely blindsided the Malkyeri military, and the domestic response has been slow. Fortunately, Ottoman forces have been deployed to the region in great numbers, which should hold back the floodgates, so to speak, until the Malkyeri military can rally and reorganize. The rebels do not appear to have a solid reason for overthrowing the government; this appears to be someone in the government's move for power, a move driven entirely by ambition and greed. The rebels also appear to have killed one of the Emperor's sons, Isaac, who was leading monarchy forces out in the field. Recommend immediate deployment of military assets to the Malkyeri theater to assist the monarchy in beating the rebels back. Will return to Halberdgardia via Gulfstream following orders to return or confirmation of mobilization of military forces to the theater. Kil out."

Kil sighed, sat down in a nearby chair, and rubbed his face. Now, it was just a waiting game.

Kil was awoken by a vibration on his belt. He started awake, suddenly realizing he'd fallen asleep in the chair in the commo room. He had no time to be chagrined; the vibration on his belt was his SATPhone. He grasped it, pressed a button, said, "Kil here."

"Kenix," a deep voice said. Kil bolted upright in his seat. He'd recognize that voice anywhere.

"Randy," Kil replied. "I take it you're not calling to tell me to get the hell out of here."

"No," Halberdgardian Secretary of Defense Randy Schrader replied, "no, I'm not. I'm calling to tell you that we've authorized the deployment of the 1st Naval Expeditionary Force to Malkyer, to aid the monarchy in the fight against the rebels. It's a substantial force, since it looks like we'll be fighting some big nations that are supporting the rebels. Tell the Emperor that it's about five days out."

"Thanks, Randy. This is a cause worth fighting for."

"Do you think we would have authorized it if it wasn't? Now: get the hell out of there, Kenix. You don't want to be around when our fleet gets there."

Kil grinned. "You don't have to tell me that. I'll let the Emperor know, then I'll let whoever's leading the 1st deal with things from there."

"Roger that. Over and out."

"Kil out."

Kil shut the SATPhone off, then walked out to talk to the Emperor.

He knocked on the door to the conference room where the Emperor was.

"Emperor Saraad? It's Secretary Kil. I have some good news for you. May I enter?"

"Hmm? Oh yes, come on in." Dayan had several papers spread out in front of him, and an aide was standing close by with a handful of others. "What is it?"

***

Colonel von Klaus' regiment, the 29th Prussians, was the lead regiment of the 95th Division heading into Bridgeport. One of five "ethnic" units in the Royal Army (there was an Irish brigade, two German regiments, and two Russian regiments), von Klaus' troops were some of the finest tankers in the service.

Sending the major part of his tank force, close to sixty tanks, to swing south of the town and encircle it from the east to cut off retreat, he brought the main body of his infantry north, to form a screen along most likely escape route, Highway 395. Going south, the road had been chewed up by tanks and artillery, meaning that any escape to the east would have to leave Bridgeport from the north.

As the rest of the Division caught up to the 29th Regiment, von Klaus ordered his infantry to advance southward into the town, toward the warehouse district. Fighting was relatively light, and some of the officers and NCOs worried that the enemy had either escaped, or lay waiting in ambush. Von Klaus was well aware of these concerns, but he was also aware that any Loyalist soldier would gladly scarifice himself to protect the Imperial Family. Besides, the 95th had arrived very quickly. The rebels likely had no idea they'd come until they'd made visual contact...

The Armored Car sped down the road. It was heading due south back to the port. Inside were Captain Cren and General Nitz. Both were coming back from a conference with Colonel Saito.

Cren: Do you think what he said was right?

Nitz: I will believe that he is telling no harm. We are both on the same side. Being suspicious of allies work's to the enemy's advantage, I hope you know.

Cren: Yes, I understand. Oh, Driver pull-up here.

The car skid to a stop next to the loading docks. As Cren got out he waved to the driver before speaking to Nitz:

Cren: I hope to see you again, old buddy. Don't let anything happen to you.

Nitz: Don't worry about me. You should be worried about yourself.

Cren: Very well, good bye until next time.

Cren got out of the car and walked a few paces away. The car began pulling out as it sped down the road to the interim established base of the Space Union forces in Malkyer. As Cren watched, a junior officer came up to him:

Junior Officer: Sir, Admiral Sidhu would like a status report on the unloading of the equipment and men. Should I radio in saying that we are complete?

Cren: I think that would be correct. You have premission to radio in.

Junior Officer: Yes, Sir!

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

The car passed by the trees at increasingly fast rate. As Nitz watched the road go by, he thought to himself on the strategy needed to win the first victory. He didn't know if the Colonel would send rebel forces to aid. But that didn't matter for he knew he could get his boys to do it themselves.

The car pulled up next to the base and the driver opened the door.

Driver: Here you are sir!

Nitz: Thank You. You may now head back to the docks.

Driver: Yes, Sir!

As the car pulled out to go back to the docks, Nitz stepped into the base's office. All around he saw men were getting equipment ready to go as they established the headquarters for the operations in Malkyer. As General Nitz entered the room went silent.

Nitz: I have an announcement. I want the 1st-3rd Corps of the 1st Army to get ready to move to the Columbia River Valley. Officers be ready. We will be pulling out in the next 3 days.

Expressions were mixed. The senior officers were happy yet the new junior ones were more displeased. Nitz knew that was the expression he would get from them. He knew juniors would want to settle in before starting the fighting but in the Army there was no lazyness accepted.

Nitz: You may now carry on.

Nitz walked into his room as he retired for the rest of the day in solitude, thinking about the coming days.

"Hmm? Oh yes, come on in." Dayan had several papers spread out in front of him, and an aide was standing close by with a handful of others. "What is it?"

Kil bowed his head slightly upon entering, then looked back up at the Emperor.

"Excellent news, Emperor Saraad. The Secretary of Defense has just informed me that the President has authorized the use of force against the rebels, and is deploying a naval expeditionary force to Malkyer. It is en route here, to San Francisco, and should arrive within five days. I have been assured it is a substantial armada of naval vessels. They ought to help take some of the burden off Ottoman forces, and your own military while it regroups."

Admiral Franker grabs the radio. The whole fleet had just worked its way along the coast to get to Los Angeles and hadn't witnessed any movement of troops, which worried the admiral. He had just ordered thirty-six AH-64D Apache Attack Helicopters and twenty OH-58D Kiowa Recon/Light Attack Helicopter to patrol the coastal area.

"This is Admiral Franker of the Royal Kazaki fleet requesting permission to dock. We have dispatched a small grouping of helicopters to do a recon over the area to search for potential threats. Do not shoot these down as the flag of Kazaki is very visible from all angles. We also have eight F/A-18 Hornets ready to be deployed if our helicopters recieve any fire from any Loyalists troops"

He walks off leaving the radio men to man the radio. He sends out an internal message to the fleet telling the heads to get their troops and equipment ready for docking.

I want us out of this as fast as possible. Nothing better slow us down

OOC:Once I dock my posts should get better being as I'm not stuck out at sea

The Port Authority commander in Los Angeles. felt relieved when he received the message from the Kazaki fleet. Sure, some help had landed north, but north was not here. After the shelling by the Ottoman fleet, he was desparate for additional troops to shore up his defenses. The ships would be welcome, as well.

"Admiral Franker, this is Colonel Weisman, Los Angeles garrison. Your ships have permission to dock at any pier they can berth at. I'll send some officers and engineers to help with the unloading and organization."

***

Dayan nodded slowly, thoughfully. "Excellent. A large naval force is what we need desparately, at least until the RN gets back online. Mr. Kil, thank you."

***

It happened very quickly. One second the troops of the 29th Regiment were moving through the empty streets of Bridgeport (civilian refugees having already fled prior to the first battle). One of the lead elements, a squad led by Sergeant Schroeder, stumbled across a wounded man propped against a storefront. The Sergeant beckoned his squad to come forward, and they approached the man.

"Water," he murmured. His face and body were covered with grey dust, from shellholes in the building above him. Schroeder knelt down and handed him a canteen. Weakly, the man drank.

"You with them, boy?" Schroeder asked. The man nearly spat.

"Never...loyal to the Emperor..." His head started to loll, as if he was about to pass out.

"What happend here? Do you know where they took Isaac?"

"Town square...ambushed us...like they knew we were coming. They...they cut us down...even shot the ones who surrendered." With that, he slipped into unconciousness.

Schroeder swore. "Bastards. Orderly! Get this man to the medical tent!" A pair of orderlies rushed up with a stretcher, and took the man away.

Half an hour later, the infantry screen had reached the town square. It was desolate, and filled with the debris. Using large pieces of rubble and burnt out civilian vehicles for cover, several dozen soldiers progressed through the square. When the sixth group made their dash from the street to the fountain in the center, machine gun fire erupted from the southern end, in windows above the ground level. Several men fell, but the rest dove behind whatever cover they could find, and returned fire.

At the same time, a large force of rebel armor swept out of Nevada and drove straight for Bridgeport. The tanks of the 29th moved east to meet them, and others from the 95th took their place. The two tank forces engaged each other, and soon burnt hulks of armor littered the field as tanks prowled through the forests and outskirts, hunting one another. The Second Battle of Bridgeport had commenced.

When Admiral Franker recieves word that the have permission to dock he breathes a sigh of relief. All these men in boats that are used to being on land does not prove to be the best of times.

He relays the message to all of the other ships and they begin to dock.

As the troops lower the unloading gate they see some of the rebel troops standing there waiting for them.

As Admiral Franker is still in one of the ships not docked his V.A. clamors out dodging troops pushing large carts around and the occasional tank rolling out. Finally he gets through to the Rebel officers.

"Well I can't say that was the most diplomatic way I've ever disembarked from a ship but hell I'm here. We have around four hundred thousand soldiers docking here. If you want some of them to be re-routed to other areas quickly I would suggest saying something now because then we can simply keep them on the ships and transport them wherever rather than trying to make it on land. They will be docking in shifts with each shift carrying one hundred thousand soldiers and each shift comes in on the hour. This first batch of troops are our special forces and the msot elite units of the army. But watch out the Special Forces are a little pissed off right now. They wanted to be deployed far more in advance but they couldn't get the go ahead because of some red tape, but I'll assure you they will still do the outstanding job they always do. Admiral Franker will be out here in about 15 minutes but I can answer any questions until he gets here. But first I have a question of my own if I may. What do you want us to do? I'll tell the men their orders as they get off so the effect can be maximized."

At the Mobile Command Center for the Al Muslimeen Forces

The entire general staff for the KLM forces for Malkyer, were in meeting. They had two officers from the loyalist faction of Malkyer were also at the meeting.

Field Marshal of the Al Muslimeen Army Fyodor Ivanrovich Petrovic was debriefing his staff about the plan of attack against the rebellion, there on the table was map of Malkyer and the latest Arm forces satellites pictures of the Malkyer.

“Well gentlemen, our forces are going to move south…head towards Sonora and Baja California, meaning our forces will march thought Los Angeles and San Diego…meaning we have take these cities in the name of the loyalist..also our forces march thought Southern California and Arizona…to get to two southern most regions of Malkyer. Also our grand fleet will soon leave after unloading of our forces is completely they will sail down to Los Angeles and San Diego, to aid us in taking these two key cities of the rebellion, then we’ll march on to Sonora and Baja California…also our latest reports have show that outsiders are aiding the Malkyeri rebels…( He pick up the latest satellites pictures showing massive fleets entering Los Angeles and in northern Malkyer.) It appears we may be fighting more then just the rebels..that’s is all, now Fleet Admiral Osman Pazvantoglu will debrief you more.” Said the Field Marshal of the Al Muslimeen Army Fyodor Ivanrovich Petrovic

Then Fleet Admiral Osman Pazvantoglu got up and began his debriefing

“Gentlemen, our forces will compete unloading of all our ground forces within the next 24 hours..thanks to comrades of Malkyer for helping us in unloading the troops and cargo. Now my standing orders are to aid the ground forces in taking Los Angeles and San Diego, yet this unknown fleet next Los Angeles could be a threat to our forces efforts in taking the city. If this fleet is a threat to Loyalist forces and our own forces my fleet will take care of them to make mission for our forces more easy to compete.” Stated Fleet Admiral Osman Pazvantoglu and then he nod Air Marshal Alexander Nikolayevich Lodygin to take the floor

“Officers of the general staff, my forces within the next 20 hours will began the bombing runs on many rebel held areas, the B-52, B-2, B-1B Lancer squads will began bombing raids from their bases in the Dominion of the Union of Eurasia Federated Socialists Unionist States. Also a number of E-3C Sentry that have been assign to our air fleet will be our eyes and hears in these. Including a numbers of KC-10A Extender (tanker) to keep our forces refuel. F/A-18E/F “Super Hornet” squad will protect all these groups of plances, then come our F-117A Nighthawk that will do the job of pin point attacks on rebel lines, and our AC-130U Spookys will blow the hell out of them.” Reported Air Marshal Alexander Nikolayevich Lodygin (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/gurney1.jpg)

“Any questions on this?” ask Field Marshal of the Al Muslimeen Army Fyodor Ivanrovich Petrovic

“Permission to speak frankly sir!” said General Abdallah ibn Muhammad of the 37th Army

“Granted.” repy Field Marshal of the Al Muslimeen Army Fyodor Ivanrovich Petrovic

“Sir, the only bloody reasoned we are here is to fulfill a debt we owe the Malkyeri for aiding us in our civil war, they only send advisers, do the fact we ask only for advisers.. when they were in their time of need…we could have send was just advisers..no the Sultan had to go overboard and send two massive groups of arm forces to this god forsaken land…we have over 70 percent of the bloody Pacific fleet over here…for all we know Communist Red China is planning to attacks and most of the bloody f**king fleet is over here…and it will take us at max two weeks to get back to homeport, if its not to late for us to aid our nation…I am telling this is full hardly. I am only here, because I was order here…nothing more, nothing less….” Remark General Abdallah ibn Muhammad in Ottoman Turkish

“Silence General Muhammad!” reply AMI Black Hawks Head- General Fyodor Karamazov in Arabic

Be silence! Most of the officers here share my view that the Sultan has overstep his powers by sending so far from home…!” yell back General Abdallah ibn Muhammad in Persian

“You do not speak for all the officers here, be silence or should I dual you outside and kill you to make you silence!”Field Marshal of the Al Muslimeen Army Abdul Mejid I (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/duncan.jpg) , head of the 5th Black Legion Army, he yell at him in Ottoman Turkish

General Abdallah ibn Muhammad was finally silence after getting yell at from a Black Legion offier.

Most of the Officers did side with Abdallah… so did most of the government back home, they believe this war was the Sultan personal war not a war for the Khailfah…..yet they still follow the orders of the Sultan to the teeth

“Well, do our comrades from Loyalist Malkyer have anything to said to our plan of attack?” ask Field Marshal of the Al Muslimeen Army Fyodor Ivanrovich Petrovic

Dayan nodded slowly, thoughfully. "Excellent. A large naval force is what we need desparately, at least until the RN gets back online. Mr. Kil, thank you."

"It is the least we can do, Emperor Saraad. I will put you in contact with the commander of the expeditionary force as soon as possible. Now, if you will excuse me, I plan to leave the country before it becomes any more of a warzone. It was truly a pleasure, Emperor Saraad, and I am sorry our meeting had to be cut short because of this rebellion. Rest assured, though, that when peace is restored, I will return to resume talks and pursue further diplomatic relations with you. You can count on that. I will be in Washington, should you wish to contact me."

Kil and Emperor Saraad said their final good-byes to one another, and Kil left the room. Immediately flanked by his Secret Service agents as always, he sped back up to his usual swift walking pace. One of the Secret Service agents spoke up.

"Mr. Secretary, we've called ahead to SFO, and your plane is ready for takeoff. We've been offered the services of a Malkyeri APC to take us there."

"Good. Thank you."

The seven men walked back out front to the already-waiting APC, which promptly sped them off to the airport. A mere fifteen minutes after leaving the mansion, Kil's Gulfstream was in the air and en route back to Washington, D.C., Halberdgardia.

International Waters Just Outside of Malkyeri Waters

Fleet Admiral Jack Forrester, overall commander of the Halberdgardian First Naval Expeditionary Force (HFNEF), stood at the bridge of his flagship, D.R.H. Majestic. Through the forward viewport, the outline of Malkyeri California was barely visible on the horizon. Also barely visible were multitudes of unrecognizable dark shapes, probably one of the fleets of the powers supporting the rebels.

The HFNEF, Forrester figured, was a sizable and rather advanced fleet, carrying with it some huge naval guns and powerful air support. The only area it was lacking in was land forces; it carried only a small contingent of a few thousand Marines, and a few dozen Special Forces men. Reinforcements could be brought in from Halberdgardia en masse, but it would take time for them to arrive. The HFNEF would be there mainly to assist in gaining air and naval superiority, and from there to provide air and naval support to Ottoman and Malkyeri ground units. However, Forrester thought the HFNEF to be superbly-equipped for these roles, and took comfort in that fact.

Now, he was simply waiting for the Secretary of State to confirm that he was out of the country before making his move. As if on cue, the commo officer spoke up.

"Incom--"

"Put it through, crewman," Forrester said, grinning, so as to soften his interruption. "I know who it is."

"Aye, sir."

The radio crackled to life.

"Admiral?"

"Mr. Secretary, good to hear from you. I assume you're in the air, sir?"

"You read my mind, Admiral. Yes, I am in the air, and safely on my way back to Washington. You now have authorization to coordinate and conduct operations in Malkyer. For coordination purposes, I am transmitting to you the secure communication code where the Emperor can be reached. He will likely direct you to one of his officers, although he does have an excellent grasp of military tactics and such."

"Thank you, Mr. Secretary."

"You're welcome, Admiral. Give the rebels hell. Kil out."

Forrester smiled. Now was the time. Operation Scimitar had officially begun.

"Commo!"

"Aye, sir?"

"Patch me through to Emperor Saraad."

"Aye, sir."

Colonel Weisman frowned. "It's not like we've had a lot of time to prepare for you. The Ottomans shelled this city yesterday for close to ten hours. I'm surprised the port's still open. Anyway, on to the troop assignments. We need about half your men sent to Sonora and Baja, to shore the defenses for our southern command post against Loyalist and Ottoman attacks. The rest, and the special forces, we need sent to Oregon, to take Seattle and Vancouver from the south, while our forces and the troops from Space Union move in from the east. If you don't mind, I'll post officers with your troops to help with the organization."

***

"Admiral Forrester, is it?" Dayan spoke into the receiver. "I have to say, it's nice to know that things are starting to look up. Listen, I need you to bring your fleet around to Baja California and Sonora. We're going to hit the rebels there, our first organized counter-attack since the first shots of the rebellion, and I don't want them escaping. Yes. Thank you, Admiral."

He set down the phone. He needed some sleep. But as the de facto supreme commander of the loyalist and allied forces, he would have to wait to sleep.

***

Colonel Konstanin Badanov and Major Anthony Greene exchanged a look during the argument among the Ottoman officers. The generals were yelling at one another in langauges the Malkyeri didn't understand. To Greene, it all sounded like Arabic, but Badanov thought he could distinguish something else, most likely Turkish or Farsi, or both. Between them, the two Malkyeri could speak Russian, English, German, Spanish, Italian, and French. Oh well, thought Greene, trying to keep his mind from wandering, it doesn't really matter. If it's important, they'll let us know.

"Well, do our comrades from Loyalist Malkyer have anything to said to our plan of attack?" asked Field Marshal of the Al Muslimeen Army Fyodor Ivanrovich Petrovic.

Colonel Badanov spoke up immediately. "Los Angeles. It has to fall, as quickly as possible. It's the only major port in rebel territory. If you can provide us with some advanced bombardment from the fleet and some air cover, loyalist troops in the area can take it. That will free up your own ground troops, and we won't have to wait for them to move down from San Fransisco."

Major Greene chimed in. "Your planes. I assume you're going to use Malkyeri airbases? I'd recommend Elemendorf in Alaska or Hughes outside of Vancouver. Also, I think that Santiago in Hispanola is still running, though that may be a bit far."

Badanov spoke again. "On the issue of the air war, I have a request from my superiors, specifically the Emperor himself. He wants to ask that you please refrain from completely destroying everything the rebels hold. After all, we're going to need it after this thing's over."

"Admiral Forrester, is it?" Dayan spoke into the receiver. "I have to say, it's nice to know that things are starting to look up. Listen, I need you to bring your fleet around to Baja California and Sonora. We're going to hit the rebels there, our first organized counter-attack since the first shots of the rebellion, and I don't want them escaping. Yes. Thank you, Admiral."

He set down the phone. He needed some sleep. But as the de facto supreme commander of the loyalist and allied forces, he would have to wait to sleep.

"Acknowledged, Emperor Saraad. Any particular targets in those regions you want taken care of (OOC: e.g., military bases, capital cities, etc.) And we have a large contingent of heavy bombers at airfields back home (OOC: if you check the OOC thread, I'm mainly talking about the B-2s and B-300s) that would help greatly in driving the rebels back. I'm talking about a possible combined payload of over a million pounds of munitions between them, Emperor Saraad. I'm therefore requesting your permission to use them wherever needed -- carte blanche, so to speak. This may include some limited forms of carpet-bombing with the use of napalm and heavy conventional explosives. Over."

OOC: This is 2 weeks after the last RP.

Italics = Thoughts

It was a calm summer morning. The birds were chirping while the forst was alive. Indeed the Columbia River Valley was a beautiful place that reminded a man of his good memories. General Nitz took a deep breathe of the air as he looked down at the crystal clear water.

Nitz: What a sad event today will be. This battle will destroy this forest and the river will be red by the end of the day. But I know what must be done.

As Nitz thought about his problem, a officer came up to him:

Officer: Sir, the last Sector has reported in saying they are ready. We have formed a perimeter around the valley to the south. This will allow for clear cut attacks and for no retreat down south for the Loyalist troops.

Nitz: Good job officer. Wait my word before starting the attack.

The past weeks had been hardly memerable. The 1st-3rd Corps had come to the valley a week before and Nitz had ordered for all the artillery to dig-in to the surrounding land for an attack on the Loyalist troops. At 12:00 sharp, the artillery would start shelling the enemy with an onslaught of raining black blobs (shells). The artillery's main goal was to cause psychological damage to the enemy with sheer firepower and to destroy SAMs and missile batteries. Once this was done, Nitz could order the available B-300s and B-301s in the area to start bombarding the suckers of the enemy into the ground. This would go on for two days.

It was a full proof plan. And if that all worked correctly, Nitz would order for the SPM-192 and M1A5 to spearhead the invasion of the valley by the end of the 2 days. The Loyalist would truly feel the force of the ironfist of Space Union come crashing down on their forces. This was all nicknamed Operation Ironfist.

As the clock ticked near to 12:00, General Nitz became more anxious. He began pacing around, waiting and waiting. Finally it came. The bell of his watch rang and he saw 12:00 on his watch. He picked up his radio and signaled: GO!

At that moment the once silent valley erupted into a deafening roar of artillery firing simaltanously. Each sector fired right after the other so that it would be a chain of continous firings, never stopping. General Nitz saw as artillery shells flew all across the forests and banks of the Columbia River Valley. He could see from here soldiers scrambling from the hitting they were receiving. He knew that they had caught the outersoldiers off-guard. Yet he couldn't see any casualties yet.

As he walked back to his camp, he put on his earplugs to deafen the sound of artillery firing. He knew this was going to keep on happening for the next 2 days. But the best part was that since the soldiers were high up in the hills along with the artillery, the chance of a counterattack by Loyalist to attack the artillery would prove futile. Soldiers and tanks were lined up ready to fire and mow down any incoming soldiers. It would resemble the American Revolutionary battle, the Battle of Bunker Hill except Space Union would be the winner.

OOC: Malkyer you don't mind if I stated that your soldiers were scrambling, I didn't want to say casualties but wanted to add some effect to the RP. Sorry if it is sort of godmodding to you. :(

OOC: Don't worry about it, I'm not one of those people who freaks out if you even suggest that my people did something :p .

Sergeant Ardwain hoisted the wounded soldier onto his back. "I'm going. Cover for me," he said to the remaining squad members. There wasn't a lot guys with rifles could do against artillery, not this far away, but he said it out of habit anyway. With the next lull in the firing, he scrambled down the small hill, heading toward the rear of the line, to the hospital tent. One his way, he spotted two orderlies.

"You men, I've got wounded!" The orderlies rushed up, and gently rested the sharpnel-injured man onto the stretcher. Ardwain turned and rushed back to his post. When he arrived, the other squad members grinned.

"See, Sarge, I knew you'd be okay. You're my hero," one of them joked. The grin on his face faded as Ardwain's fist came up, and descend on him in a fierce noogie.

"I'd kill you myself, Herschel, if it wasn't my job to get you out of this alive." He looked at his watch. The crystal was scratched, but it still worked. "Any time now, lads," he muttered.

After several more tense moments of lying in wait, hoping that the artillery wouldn't land in his foxhole, he heard a loud peal of thunder, deafening even against he backdrop of the enemy barrage. Louder, because it was closer. The Loyalist counterbattery radar had locked onto the enemy artillery, and unleashed a furious counter-attack. This barrage would cease in a few minutes, as the batteries relocated to avoid a similar fate, but at least it was a start.

***

Troops and tanks lined up, so pretty in a row, though Specialist Mark Fuller. He was one of a dozen volunteers, snipers, who had crept up toward the enemy line over the past day and night.

He had a prime spot, hidden in a shallow hole covered by several bodies of fallen rebels. He had rubbed a bit of grease on his scope, not enough to block the vision, but enough to keep it from glinting in the sun. Peering through the scope.

He found his target. An officer, an important one too, if anything was too be implied from the flurry of activity around him. Fuller lined up his shot, held his breath to steady his hand, and squeezed the trigger. He relaxed his body, and sank a few inches into the hole. Hopefully, they wouldn't now be able to tell where he was, even if they'd seen the muzzle flash. Come nightfall, he'd relocate.

***

Dayan thought for a moment. Except for Tijuana and Hermosillo, there weren't any major cities, nor were there any significant...except for one. "Guaymas," he said. "It's their only major port, aside from Los Angeles. Burn it to the ground."

Dayan thought for a moment. Except for Tijuana and Hermosillo, there weren't any major cities, nor were there any significant...except for one. "Guaymas," he said. "It's their only major port, aside from Los Angeles. Burn it to the ground."

A smile slowly spread across Fleet Admiral Jack Forrester's face: a predatory smile, one that made the crewmen around him decidedly uneasy.

"With pleasure, Emperor Saraad. Forrester out."

He turned to his commo man.

"Here's what we'll line up for the attack, Commo."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Back in Halberdgardia, a massive armada of planes were lined up for take-off and deployment to Malkyer. Together, there were some sixty bombers lined up for this attack, the biggest such force assembled in Halberdgardian military history. Forty-eight B-300 "Ravager" heavy strategic supersonic bombers, as well as twelve B-2 Spirit bombers, would unleash their fury on the rebel-held port of Guaymas. Between them, the sixty bombers had a combined payload of 10,080,000 pounds of munitions. They would wipe the city of Guaymas off the map.

[OOC: Malkyer, I'll TG you my idea for the attack, so you can OK it; if you give it your OK, I'll RP it relatively soon.]

Captain Reten watched as his sector finished its bombardment and began moving before bombarding again. First the self-propelled would began moving followed by the towed artillery. As the last self-propelled artillery moved and some of the towed artillery moved away, a light flashed near the trees. The enemy counterattacked! Missiles flew into the area mostly hitting spots where former artillery pieces were but a couple hit their mark. In 10 seconds, the missiles had damaged 4 and left 6 destroyed. 4 were minorly damaged from shrapnel. 12 soldiers had met their fiery death, too.

Captain Reten ran up to the soldiers. All the injured were dead. He picked up his radio and spoke into it: all artillery in Captain Reten's sectors, counterattack on the position where the missiles came from. All of a sudden, the artillery pieces fired 80 rockets into the area and sent 100s of shells into the area in a matter of minutes. Captain Reten licked his lips with satisfaction.

***

As reports came in about the attacks, Colonel Ytah was ordering men to start filling for death counts. As he shouted he wasn't aware of the marksmen behind him. As he yelled:

"Get to your positions! Do I have to do_____"

That second the muzzle of the sniper flared as a bullet hit the head of the Colonel. He felt the bullet tear through the side and embedd into his brain. He fell head first into a rock, cracking his skull in the area. Colonel Ytah was dead.

Guards instantly saw him die. The four guards began firing into the spot that they saw a flash in. One guard mowed down the entire field with bullets in the area he thought was holding the snipers. Two guards fired grenades into the possible hideouts and area of the sniper.

One guard rushed to the radio:

"All soldiers beware of snipers began shooting at any muzzle sound!"

All across the frontlines soldiers and tanks began plummeting the positions they thought housed snipers in with deadly ammo and grenades. Tanks used their machine guns and main guns to fire into the area sending debris high into the air. But it soon calmed down after no firings were reported later that day.

OOC: Was the last comment directed toward me or someone else?

The bomber force had been ready to lift-off, but now they would be delayed by some thirty minutes. Apparently a careless mechanic had left a toolbox on the runway near one of the bombers, and one of that bomber's turbine engines, when fired up, had proceeded to suck the toolbox into itself. Fortunately, the engine did not explode, but it was a total loss, and had to be replaced, hence the delay. The crews of the other bombers seethed in their cockpits, ready to take-off, and anxious to hit the rebels hard.

Guaymas, Rebel Southern Command
Isaac glared at the monitor. Damn them, he thought. The Halberdgardian fleet had moved south, and was by all appearances ready to attack Baja. Isaac did not doubt that his forces could hold them, but he was worried about leaving himself exposed to an attack by loyalist or Ottoman forces. Pissant little nation, thinking they can fight with the big kids, he raged silently.

Decked out in the finery of a Field Marshal, Isaac looked every inch the great leader. The problem was, he had not yet declared himself to be the leader of the rebellion. In point of fact, as far as the Loyalists, his family, and their allies knew, he was dead. In some ways, that had it's advantages.

A window popped up on the monitor. Colonel Saito's scarred face grinned at Isaac. "M'lord. I have an idea, and I think you will find it...intriguing."

Isaac raised an eyebrow. "Continue," he said.

"Imagine the chaos it would create if you were to go to the capital, to the Palace, and claim the Throne for yourself? Your father and older brother are not doing their duty, not leading the nation. They fled at the first shots in Washington province."

Isaac narrowed his glare. Venom seethed in his voice. "Alexei is not my older brother. We are twins."

"Of course, m'lord. Forgive me, I mispoke."

The glare softened. "Do not worry. Hmm...I like this idea of yours, Daisuke. Perhaps we can end this before the allies of my father can fully mobilize. Very well. I will leave for Arizona in ten minutes, and tomorrow head to Idaho. From there, I can get to Vancouver easily enough."

Half an hour later, Isaac's helicopter cross the Arizona border. Ten minutes ago, Halberdgardian mechanics had begun replacing the damaged engine. Neither knew how close they'd come to one another.

“Very well, we’ll send aid to your forces in taking Los Angeles. We’ll look into the idea of using your bases for our heavy bombers. And do not worry we are not at total war, we will carpet bomb your nation, do not worry. This meeting is dismiss…everyone get your forces ready we leave within 24 hours.” said Field Marshal of the Al Muslimeen Army Fyodor Ivanrovich Petrovic

Then all officers left the command center, to get their forces ready for the march to Los Angeles…

24 hours later, the massive Al Muslimeen Army began to march to Los Angeles; they were made of Turks, Arabs, Kurds, Persians, Africans, Russians Armenians, Georgians, Berber, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Austrian Germans, Italians, Indians, Ukrainians, Turkmen, Indians, Poles, Malays, Indonesians, and people from the Balkan regions of the Empire and many more groups. These were the groups fighting in the war for the Al Muslimeen. The massive forces of 5th Black Legion Army, 37th Army, 1-4 Marine Corps, And including 1-4 Paratroop Crop. Were all heading to Los Angeles, unstop…they were heading to aid their comrades in the retaking the city.

Then the Massive Al Muslimeen Fleet set a course to Los Angeles, they left dock and headed to aid in the taking of the port of Los Angeles.

ETA for both forces to reach Los Angeles, two days at maximum speed...

OOC: Is my fleet docked at Los Angelos because I don't really know what area its docked in? Also Malkyer I think you skipped my post again ;)

OOC: Somewhere to the north, I think...Kazaki's fleet is at LA right now. Or you could say that your fleet docked at LA and then your troops moved north by rail, and now your ships are at sea.

IC:

As the sun began to set in the afternoon, Mark Fuller chuckled to himself. Sheer, dumb luck he thought. The body of the rebel soldier above him had stopped three bullets, a machine gun had sprayed the area not a meter in front of him, and some explosive (a rocket or a tank round, he couldn't tell) had gone of behind him and to the right, about two meters. Not normally a religious man, Fuller had thanked God for about an hour after surviving the barrage. Well, I mad them pretty mad. Must've hit someone important.

General Anders Joura was also chuckling. The retaliatory fire from the enemy forces had been vicious, no denying, but without taking the time to backtrack with their counter-battery radar, they'd been firing blind, shooting randomly in the direction of the Loyalist lines. To be sure, they'd slaughtered a good many men, and destroyed about six batteries of artillery, and five rocket battallions were out of action, but the majority of his artillery was intact. Naturally, they'd stopped firing hours ago, and relocated to as to avoid guns trained on their positions. Today had been a good day, from the artillery commander's point of view.

***

In the hills outside of Los Angeles, the rough equivalent of two divisions of Loyalist troops waited. Having received confirmation that the Ottoman fleet was due to arrive in a couple of days. The men were glad, because with air and naval support they'd be able to clear the city of the festering garrison of traitors. They'd tried before, during the first battles of the war, and lost an entire division because they had been unable to knock the rebels loose from their positions. This time, it would different.

Airspace Above Guaymas, Mexico, Malkyer, 2351 Local Time

Two Halberdgardian EC-130J Compass Call II electronic-warfare aircraft, unbeknownst to the rebels on the ground, owned the skies above Guaymas. The rest of the Halberdgardian strike force was approximately one minute out, so it was time to kick things off. On one of the EC-130Js, the sophisticated jamming equipment activated, shutting down nearly all civilian TV, radio, cell phone, landline, and Internet transmissions. Military communications were likely to remain intact, but that was what the second EC-130J was for. Utilizing the powerful communications equipment that was also part of the jamming suite, they broadcast -- quite loudly -- Velvet Revolver's "Slither" over any and all unjammed channels. The soldiers on the ground were undoubtedly shaking their heads in confusion as the lyrics came over tactical channels:

"Hey hey hey

When you look you see right through me
Cut the rope, fell to my knees
Born and broken every single time

Always keep me under finger
That's the spot where you run to me
Might see some type of pleasure in my mind

Yeah, here comes the water
It comes to wash away the sins of you and I
This time you see"

About the time those lyrics had finished, the sixty bombers were over the outskirts of Guaymas. They were preceded by their thirty-six F-117 escorts, who screamed down from the skies above, almost totally invisible, and dropped their deadly payloads on the rebels: smart bombs, aimed at major AA installations throughout the city, dropping a total of 504. The bombs leveled mobile radar sites, AA guns, and communications bunkers, wreaking enough chaos to allow the bombers time to do their job. With Guaymas in chaos, the F-117s pulled back to their escort positions, standing by with AAMs in case any fighters showed up.

It was the bombers' game now, and play well they did. The forty-eight massive B-300 "Ravager" HSSBs, the cornerstone of the operation, were lined up in a long line that spread from one end of Guaymas to another, to ensure the total, absolute destruction of the city of Guaymas. Each bomber dropped its payload of 200,000 pounds of conventional explosives at the same time that each of the twelve B-2 Spirit bombers were dropping their own 40,000-pound payloads of napalm. This was carefully timed to coincide with the Velvet Revolver song continuing to play. As the inferno of napalm burned whole blocks of Guaymas' port facilities to the ground, and as conventional explosives tore whole buildings apart, Weiland continued to snarl over the rebels' tactical channels:

"Yeah, here comes the water
It comes to wash away the sins of you and I
This time you see
Like holy water
It only burns you faster than you'll ever dry
This time with me

Yeah, here comes the water
It comes to wash away the sins of you and I
This time you see
Like holy water
It only burns you faster than you'll ever dry
This time with me"

The result of all these weapons was a massive series of equally massive explosions across that combined in such an enormous fireball that it would appear to an observer that the city had been nuked. The Halberdgardians' ten-million-plus-pound carpet-bombing had done the job: the city of Guaymas had been effectively wiped off the map.

The next day, as Isaac arrived in Boise on his way to Vancouver, a lieutanent rushed up to him on the tarmac. "Sir! Urgent news from Southern Command." His voice sort of trailed off into silence, and made Isaac wondered just how urgent the news was.

Inside the base command center, Isaac was greeted by the colonel in command. The soldier saluted, and then flicked a switch on his desk when Isaac returned the salute. "It's not exactly news from Southern Command, sir, more news from the...well, I'll let you see for yourself."

The screen was static for a moment, and gradually the image became less fuzzy. It was obviously pre-recorded. It began as an aerial perspective, showing what looked to be a little more than a black, greasy stain on the coastline of Sonora. As the camera zoomed in, he could make out bits of rubble, and charred buildings. Shakily, the feed shifted from a helicopter to a ground crew. The city, if that's what it could be called, resembled something out of the worst battles in history. Stalingrad, perhaps, or Nanking. As he looked closer, he realized that no, it didn't really resemble any of those. It was something else...Dresden, he thought.

"Guaymas?"

"Yes, sir. This footage was taken earlier this morning. Someone raided the city from the air."

"The air? Then it was the Ottomans or the Halberdgardians, I imagine?" Isaac's face was expressionless. A blessing in disguise, perhaps. It tied up some air power in the south, when the death blow is coming from the north.

The colonel nodded. "Well," Isaac continued, "I guess I'd better get on, then. Inform our forces in Washington that I'll be arriving in a few hours.

***

"Your Highness, was this wise? I mean, not only you, but bringing your son along, too?" General Thomas looked genuinely worried.

Dayan grinned. "Don't worry, Bernie. Alexei is a smart lad. Beside's the Prince Royal's Own has seen some tough fighting. He's not a green lieutenant anymore." The Prince Royal's Own, the 1st Light Infantry Regiment, had indeed seen heavy fighting along the Oregon-Idaho border in the first days of the war. Now they had been moved up north, to Vancouver, in order to defend the capital should the rebel and Space Union forces in the Columbia Valley break through loyalist lines there. Alexei was now a battle-hardened major, commanding his own battalion (in Malkyer, the PRO is simply the unit that the Crown Prince serves in, he does not necessarily command it). Young Matthew had just received his commission as a lieutenant, because he had not seen as much fighting.

Very early in the morning, Dayan and Alexei had arrived in the city, having come in onboard the submarine HMS Melbourne, which had been at sea during the sabotage. Dayan clasped Thomas' hand. "Listen. Your job is to hold the Columbia Valley. I'll be fine here. Besides, it's important PR, though I hate to be concerned with politics right now. The people need to see their Emperor in his palace. They need to know that I haven't abandoned them."

Thomas nodded, understanding but not liking. "Majesty, please keep it quiet for a few days, though. At least until I'm able to reorganize my troops after that beating we took from the Reb artillery. As soon as they realize you're here, those bastards will make a push for the city, you can be sure."

The Al Muslimeeen forces were still about a day away from L.A., yet the fleet was within range to begin its own attack on the city and the ships that lay in dock.

At Midnight

The massive Fleet made up of the 2nd Fleet Carrier battle group, 30th Fleet, 8th Flag fleet, “The Grand Fleet “20th Battle group Fleet, 1st Amphibious Assault Force and 2nd Amphibious Assault Force was within range to began firing Cruise missiles and send fighters groups to began the attack runs on L.A. Fleet Admiral Osman Pazcantoglu review the reports from the latest Arm forces satellites pictures of L.A…he noted the massive fleet of ships that lay in dock, most of them were supporting the rebellion. He had standing orders to destroy anyone supporting the rebellion and he will do what he is order to do. He orders the fleet commanders to began to firing of Cruise missiles at the Rebel defense network, targeting the radar stations, and AA defense system in the area. To allow the bombers to bomb the city without beginning attack by the AA defense system. Well over 400 cruse missiles were fired at the city and dockyards. Each one causing massive damage to the areas where they hit.(OOC: Malkyer, just report what got hit from the cruse missile attack.). After firing the cruise missiles at the city and dock, The Fleet Admiral order about 200-MiG-29s, 200 SU-37s, 60 Harriers to take off and headed to attack the ships that lay in dock at the port. They were supported by 10 E-3C Sentries to give radar and communication support. As they fleet of planes reach their targets, they began to fire off harpoon missiles at the ships that lay in dock; they were firing well over 400 harpoon missiles at the ships that lay in dock. Hitting many ships, just causing massive chaos to local forces in the area, then to add to the air attack on the ships in dock. Then the massive fleet began to move in the habor itself, and began shelling as many ships as they can. The sea battle for L.A. had just began

As the sea battle rage on, the massive air fleet of 20 B-1B Lancers, 40 -B-52, 20 B-2, and support by 200 F/A-18E/F "Super Hornet" and 100 F-117A Nighthawks that came from Al Muslimeen bases in the dominion of Eurasia As they reach the skies of L.A. they began a full scale bombing of rebel held area and other key defense points, they were at the point of carpet bombing entire sections of the city, the Nighthawks began pin point raids, attacking artillery and power stations. Doing as much damage to the city as they could, they keep on bombing section of the city that was reported to be rebel strong points. The bombing lasted for 2 hours and ended with the entire air fleet leaving the area in ruins and returning to base. They taken light loss from AA fire and etc

It was a cold morning as Nitz got into his radio tent. The first day had been a minor day as no mass casualties were inflicted on the enemy but today he hoped that would change. As he entered the room, his senior officers stopped the discussion to listen to him:

Nitz: Today we will begin serious bombardment. Yesterday all Towed Artillery was taken out of the battlefield and self-propelled artillery have taken their spots. Today we will use RADAR and LIDAR/LADAR information to conduct guided bombardment on enemy batteries. Every artillery will fire in unison and then have 3 minutes to relocate before conducting bombardment again. During this time all artillery will turn on their jamming equipment to stop the enemy from tracking us. We will also have the main jammer online during the period. Do we all understand?

Officers: Yes, Sir!

As the officers began talking about the plan an officer rose up:

Officer: Sir, what we need is more firepower. The enemy's batteries must be destroyed before they attack us.

Nitz: For that reason, the SUAF is sending a group of 30 F/A-314s to bomb battery sites. They will fly low so that the sonic boom will interupt communications and disperce enemies from the sites.

Officer: Yes, Sir!

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

It was a scene of business at Harman Air Force Base. 30 F/A-314s were accelerating off the runway at tremendous speeds. As they formed squadron formation they headed off for Columbia River Valley.

2 Hours Later:

The jets wizzed by homebase as they neared the ground. They were flying only 200 ft off the ground as they sped toward the targets. Each fighter had a 3D map of the battlefield with red dots indicating artillery and batteries. As each fighter neared a group they released their deadly payload on the unsuspecting batteries. As the Radars, LIDAR/LADAR, and Satellites guided the smart bombs to their targets, the aircrafts pulled up. They sped quickly into the air as they quickly tried to escape AA fire. It seemed like it was going to be a good run.

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

On the ground, artillery blasted away with RADAR, LIDAR/LADAR, and satellite help. The artillery fired rockets, shells, and cluster shells at the enemy hoping to dig them out. As Captain Reten looked on it was marvelous:

Reten: This is wonderful. With satellite imagery coming in every minute on the whereabouts of enemy artillery batteries, we can hit them on the move. Thank god for satellites and radar.

As the section came to the end, Captain Reten ordered the artillery to go to jamming mode. In less than 20 seconds, all the artillery were jamming the entire area within their sector. As the artillery quickly sped off to their next location, Reten knew that there was no chance of the enemy hitting them today like yesterday.

OOC: Sorry for bad post. Try to do better when I get time to actually do some RPing. :)

"General Joura, sir, the enemy is jamming our radar," reported the technician manning the artillery CP's counterbattery radar.

"Looks like our little trick won't work a second time. Oh well," Joura sighed. The batteries were hidden now, covered in camoflouge netting and partially buried in their firing pits. The lighter guns were hiding under the cover of the trees in the apple orchard not far away. The enemy could destroy several batteries, especially with aircraft, but they couldn't get them all unless they burned the entire valley. "The snipers we sent up yesterday. How many are still effective?"

This time a captain, Joura's adjutant, answered. "Baker's dozen, sir. At least, that's how many whose communicators still work. The enemy killed most of them with random fire into the valley after one of them shot a colonel. Good news is, we lost twenty snipers, but they used up a hell of a lot of ammunition. If this continues as a battle of attrition, we may have an edge there."

Joura nodded. "Have Major Fast type up a flyer, saying that in grander terms. It will be a good boost to morale, and we --" he was interrupted by a soldier manning one of the radios.

"Sir, one of the snipers has radioed in! A Specialist Fuller, sir. He's volunteered to spot for the artillery."

Joura blinked. The sniper would be very close to the enemy, and as a spotter he could very well negate the jamming of the CB radar. However... "He understands that we don't have the means to extract him?" The soldier repeated the question into the microphone. Then he nodded to the general. "And he realizes that once the enemy figures out there's a spotter around them, they'll likely be able to deduce where he is and kill him?" Again, the tech repeated the question for Fuller. Again, he received an affirmative. "Very well. Tell Mr. Fuller that we appreciate his services."

***

Bloody hell, thought Fuller as he switched off his communicator. Why did I go and do that? I don't want to play the bloody hero. Shifting his weight in order to bring his rifle to bear on the enemy, he peered through the scope, and pulled about a small notepad and pencil, marking the coordinates of the artillery he could see.

***

Colonel Weisman ordered the anti-air guns and missile sites to begin scanning for targets as soon as he heard the first explosions in the city. Damn, he thought as he ran half-dressed to his command post. Tracer rounds from the twenty-milimeter cannons created a scene in the night sky reminiscent of a bad Eighties video game. Every few seconds, there would be a flare of light as a missile fired at an unseen attacker. He looked out to the harbor, and saw fighting amongst the ships. The Kazaki fleet had come under attack as well, then.

Though a full damage assessment couldn't be made until the fighting stopped, he already knew that four docks were out of commission, as well as numerous AA batteries and fortified strongpoints. The city was broken and vunerable.

OOC: Meh...I'll have a better post next time, when Kazaki posts her response to the attack on her fleet.

Encrypted Transmission to Emperor Saraad

From: Fleet Admiral Jack Forrester, Halberdgardian First Naval Expeditionary Force
Re: Destruction of Guaymas, Future Plans

The carpet-bombing of Guaymas was completely successful, Emperor Saraad. The city, as you can no doubt see from your satellite images, has been utterly devastated. There is nothing standing: the entire city has burned to the ground. Some of my own men have compared it to Dresden from World War II.

Now, for future plans. I'm preparing to commence a naval bombardment of the capitals of Baja California Norte and Baja California Sur (Tijuana and La Paz, respectively), then we'll head back up north to commence bombardment of strategic targets in Oregon. If you have any suggestions/objections to this plan, please feel free to let me know.

Respectfully,
Fleet Admiral Jack Forrester
Commander
Halberdgardian First Naval Expeditionary Force

End Encrypted Transmission

Nitz stared at the fighters leaving the area back for base. But this wasn't what he was thinking about. A half-hour before, the Air Marshall had radioed in that a fleet of 50 B-300s escorted by 150 F/A-314s. They would pound the enemy into the ground. As a grin came on Nitz's face he knew that the enemy would be utterly destroyed.

Nitz entered the radio room.

Nitz: Tell the Air Marshall to proceed.

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

The Harman Air Base was active once again. B-300s loaded with MOABs screamed off the runway as they took off. On the other side F/A-314s took off to escort the bombers. As the last aircrafts took off, the Air Marshall radioed in to Nitz:

Air Marshall: Done.

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

2 Hours Later:

The B-300s were high in the air as they passed Nitz's camp. As they neared the battlefield, the pilots looked out. Smoke was rising from everywhere. The land was scarred with explosions from artillery from both sides. As the lead pilot entered the correct area to drop-off, he told his radio officer:

"Jam!"

The Radio officer signaled into the camp to start jamming the entire area. As the jamming signal was multiplied by the activation of the Defense Systems of the B-300s. The B-300s opened there bays. All 50 of the B-300s launched 6,000,000 kgs of weapons on the valley. All the bombs were either MOABs or smart weapons guided by RADAR, LIDAR/LADAR, and Satellite. In a couple of seconds, the valley was reduced to smoking. As the pilots looked down they knew they got some stuff or all of it. The pilots had a laugh before pulling out.

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

Nitz watched the chaos. He laughed at the destruction of lines. As a huge smokecloud drifted over the valley, Nitz told one of his officers:

"Begin bombardment again. Now is the time to strike!"

In a couple of more hours another wave would come to destroy the enemy once more. What a wonderful cycle it was. Nitz laughed once again.

Encrypted Message to Admiral Forrester:
Thank you for you assistance in Sonora. Your plan is a sound one, though I warn you that a hostile fleet is currently engaging the Ottoman Navy at Los Angeles. If you approach that area, it would be wise to alert the Ottomans to your presence so as to avoid unfortunate accidents.

If you wish to land ground troops in Baja, I will have my commanders inform Loyalist partisans in the area, so that they may rendezvous with your men.

[signed] Dayan Saarad
End Encryption

Amidst the smoke and fire of the aerial bombardment, men scrambled to their stations, opening up on anything they could make visual contact with. Vulcan cannons filled the sky with lead, while the crews manning missile and rocket batteries frantically activated counter-measures to defeat the enemy's radar jamming.

Cannonfire erupted from the enemy lines, and ground troops dug in further into their foxholes and trenchs. Reinforced bunkers protected most of the men, but those unfortunate enough to be caught in the open were torn to shreds by blazing sharpnel.

Artillery crews dove into their own fortifications, safely away from their guns. With the barrels pointed directly ahead, and with camoflouge netting covering them, the guns offered very little in the way a target, but such was the bombardment that several batteries were destroyed even so, by well-aimed smart bombs and lucky dumb ones.

In the reinforced bunker that was the Forward Command Post, General Joura shouted orders as dust was shaken from the ceiling, and the lights shook. The men were to take cover, and not expose themselves to enemy fire. He frowned as he realized that with the Loyalists' refusal to retreat, and their inability to neutralize enemy aircraft due to their own lack of planes, this was quickly degenerating into a battle reminiscent of World War One.

***

Specialist Fuller scribbled furiously on his note-pad. When he was done with the coordinates, he crawled back to the relative safety of the large hole he'd found under a tree root. Carefully, he took his knife and cut the electrical tape holding his communicator to the antenna. Sticking the antenna out of the hole in order to get a clear signal, he spoke into the mouthpiece.

"Snowman, this is Gladiator Two. Enemy jamming station at square Delta-Foxtrot-Kilo-Oh-Seven-Niner. Need immediate bombardment, repeat, immediate bombardment. Over."

The response was swift. Roger that, Gladiator Two. Crews have been informed, over."

"Gladiator Two, this is Steel Rain Eight-Six. I have a eight rounds at square Delta-Foxtrot-Kilo-Oh-Seven-Niner. Fire inbound, over."

"Affirmative, Steel Rain, Gladiator Two out." Fuller ducked into the hole and covered his ears. In about ten seconds, a flurry of shells rained down on the enemy position. He hoped they'd hit; without counter-battery radar, the guns would relocate after each salvo to avoid being destroyed. Steel Rain would be out of touch for a bit...

"Shit! Why did no one give us advance warning of this fleet? How did any of our planes not see them? Oh well not a thing we can do about it. About half the ships in the harbor are unavailible for use until they are majorly renovated which will take time we don't have now. Launch as many fighters as we can to defend the fleet from further casualites. All ships that are capable of returning fire should and will!" Admiral Franker yells at the group of men in the hastily erected Command Center.

The men scatter to their respective areas relaying the message to their gunners and pilots. Suddenly the sound of AA fire can be heard. Outside he can hear planes taking off towards the sea. Then a few moments after the planes. AH-64 Apache attack helicopters begin to take off after the last of the fighter planes has gone.

We better beat this back or it's my ass thats taking the heat for this

OOC:Sorry for the crappy post it's my dad's b-day so I'm kinda pressed for time

Captain Krena saw a burst of shells come crashing toward the jamming station. As he saw smoke coming up he thought the worse had happened. As he picked up his radio, he contacted main tent:

Krena: What happned?!

An officer picked up the transmission:

Officer: Were alright. The enemies were obviously firing blindly without RADAR assistance. The shots fell short of the jamming system. But unfortunently 13 men, mostly body guards, died from the explosions.

Krena: Sorry to hear that. May god bless those soldiers souls.

As Krena put down his radio he once again got back to bombardment.

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

Nitz walked into the jamming office. Luckly it hadn't been hit but it was too close. He knew that something was watching them:

Nitz: First, I want all soldiers to begin patrolling the area within 2 kms of them. I want them to search everything including rocks, rivers, trees, bushes, everything! Understand. We have a snitch in our territory.

Radio Officer: Yes, Sir! I'll radio in. Also sir, the enemy has done what we suspected they would do, they turned on their countermeasures. Because of that we have used satellite gathering to detect areas that are being counter-jammed by the enemy and we've pinpointed them. They have given away their positions.

Nitz: Good job! Transmit this to all artillery commands.

Radio Officer: Yes, Sir!

Nitz: Also tell them to pound the enemy sites as we are sending another wave of bombers to bomb the hell out of them again but this time with bunker busters.

Radio Officer: They won't escape this time.

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

5 hours later:

High in the air there was an armada. This was no regular water armada, but an air armada. Part of the 1st Wing, 100 B-300s soared high over the battlefield. As they approached the area, they once more turned on their jammer signals. Down below, bombardment was ceasing as jammer went online again.

Commanders looked at their map screen. Command had fowarded them a map of locations to hit with bunker busters that had been deemed as enemy batteries. As each commander went over it, the bombers began getting near.

As the 20 B-300s associated with the bunker-busters opened their bay, an array of weapons flew out, all of them smart weapons, bunker-busters. As the first 20 B-300s unleased their payload of 2,400,000 kgs of weapons, the other 80 unleased their array of smart weapons along with MOABs again. Fantastic it was as 9,600,000 kgs of weapons fell on the beaten enemy.

On the ground, Nitz watched as a cloud of smoke once more came out of the area. What a wonderful sight he thought to himself.

The KLM fighters began to attack the Kazaki fighters and attack helicopters, they lock their missiles on the helicopters first and then began to fire at will, trying to take the easy targets as fast they could...they also got into dog fights with the Kazaki fighters.

The KLM Fleet keep up on shelling the Kazaki Fleet and began to fire well over 100 cruise missiles at the fleet, in the hopes of the destroying it. The ships of the fleet got into range and began shelling the living hell out of the Kazaki Fleet, 100s upon 100s of ship guns began to open up and shelling their targets..the battle had just began..

The destruction of Guaymas had undoubtedly been a stunning blow to the rebels, but Jack Forrester was inclined to leave in his wake a devastated Baja California, one of little worth to the rebels. Thus it was decided to conduct a naval bombardment of the capital cities of Baja California Norte and Sur: Mexicali and La Paz, respectively. The Halberdgardian First Naval Expeditionary Force was about to open up with its own guns for the first time in the Malkyeri Civil War.

The cornerstone craft of the operation were, without a doubt, the four Omega-class battleships of the HFNEF. With each battleship’s primary armament consisting of twelve 20-inch ETC cannons, twenty-four 6-inch ETC cannons, and seven 64-cell Ballista VLS systems (for a total of approximately 896 SAM and SSM missiles), one vessel alone was a force to be reckoned with; so much so, in fact, that their own designers and manufacturers, the Praetonian Navy, considered them pocket-dreadnaughts. The presence of these four vessels alone in the Halberdgardian armada would have given them tremendous firepower, but they were not alone. Their massive guns would be joined by those of the Allegiance-class hunter-killer dreadnaughts of the fleet. Each Allegiance boasted as primary armaments eight double-mounts of 25-inch ETC cannons (giving the ship a total of sixteen 25-inch guns), quadruple-mounts of 18-inch ETC cannons (both mounted at the front of the ship) stacked, and four double-mounts of 12-inch ETC cannons. These vessels, which were designed with a superdreadnaught-killing role in mind, could, with some slight modifications to protocol, be equally adept at naval bombardment. Forrester planned, then, to turn the massive dreadnaught-killing guns of the Allegiances onto land targets. Their accuracy against pinpoint targets would be questionable, but then, it was highly doubted that pinpoint accuracy would be needed in the general bombardment of an entire city.

With all this firepower between these seven vessels alone, the destruction of Mexicali and La Paz was nearly guaranteed to be as complete as that of Guaymas.

The vessels that would be participating in the destruction of Mexicali and La Paz were split into two groups, with two Omegas and two Allegiances operating in the group that was to attack Mexicali, deemed the more important capital of the two, and two Omegas and one Allegiance assigned to bombard La Paz. The operation would be primarily carried out by these two groups, but they would also have the support of the remainder of the fleet, as it was deemed unwise to leave the remainder of the fleet without its battleship component, and vice versa, vulnerable to attack. Therefore, the remainder of the fleet would be stationed an equal distance from both battleship groups, such that they could be quickly deployed to defend against any attack.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Malkyeri Waters off the Coast of Baja California, 1345 Local Time

The fleet had basically already been in position for this operation since the destruction of Guaymas, since the plan for the destruction of that city had called for them to be on hand to launch a naval bombardment and air attack on the city if, for some reason, the bomber armada from the mainland had been unable to proceed with the attack.

The bombardment had been scheduled to commence at 1345 local time. When the clock struck that time, Paul Oakenfold’s “Ready Steady Go” came on the fleetwide MP3 channel. That was the signal to open fire.

Malkyeri Waters off the Coast of Baja California Norte, 1345 Local Time

The Omega-class battleships D.R.H. Conqueror and D.R.H. Invincible, along with the Allegiance-class hunter-killer dreadnaughts D.R.H. Aggressor and D.R.H. Vengeance, sprang into action upon hearing Oakenfold’s pulsing electronic beats and growling guitar chords come onto the fleet’s MP3 channel. Crewmen, tensed with anticipation, had been waiting anxiously at their posts for this moment, and their reaction was swift. Dozens of ETC cannons on all four vessels vomited massive gouts of flame at deafening decibel levels as they hurled hundreds of high-explosive shells of various sizes and calibers at various areas of Mexicali, proud capital of Baja California Norte.

Malkyeri Waters off the Coast of Baja California Sur, 1345 Local Time

The men of the La Paz bombardment group were no more sluggish than their northern counterparts, and moved just as swiftly to bring a world of pain and devastation down upon the rebels of La Paz. The Omega-class battleships D.R.H. Glory and D.R.H. Iron Fist and the Allegiance-class hunter-killer dreadnaught D.R.H. Night Hammer proceeded to pump out shells faster and more prodigiously than was previously thought possible from such large ships with such large cannons. As with the bombardment of Mexicali, hundreds of high-explosive shells were destined to land somewhere in the city of La Paz. It would be hell for any rebel in the city.

As the bunker shook from the explosion of a bomb above, General Joura felt sick. The tide of this battle was slowly turning against the loyalists. Every conceivable countermeasure had been tried to combat the enemy's air superiority, and most had failed. His command had survived so far on luck as much as planning and skill.

The bunker-busters had proven especially viscious. While digging in days before, the Royal Corp of Engineers had demonstrated well the lessons learned from other wars. The bunkers had been dug deep, reinforced with steel and concrete. The bunkers themselves were connected to the entrances by long tunnels, weaving in and out of the dirt and rock in a massive warren. Several heavy blast doors would protect most of the tunnels from flames surging down from the surface. In theory, at least.

In reality, Joura knew that his position was crumbling. This stalemate was slowing wearing down the outnumbered loyalists. If the enemy could be engaged in a set battle, rather than this damned duel of artillery, he had a chance. The only problem lay in that the enemy commander knew that as well, and was not moving.

He picked up the phone. I'm not beaten yet, damn it, he thought. Field Marshal Thomas had ordered him to hold this valley, and he wold hold it until he killed the enemy, or was killed himself. "Marcus? Yes. Get me Colonel Finnigan and the Colonels Richards. Thank you." A moment later, the phone rang. He set it to conference. "Micheal, Joseph, Sean."

Sean Finnigan was the commander of the 7th Ulster Guards, a unit on the flank, away from the fiercest fighting. Micheal Richards led the 86th Light Infantry regiment next to the 7th Guards. Joseph, Micheal's cousin, held the dead center of the line with his 43rd Grenadiers.

"I'll be brief, gentlemen. Sean, Micheal, I need you to move your regiments north. Act as if you're going to flank the enemy. Your attack is a feint, but press on if it seems to be working. Understood?"

"Sir," both men said.

"Joe, I want you to organize a battalion of experts and marksman. Have them advance along the west ridge, and harass the enemy there. Standing orders in effect; kill the officers and the like. Pull them back if it starts to get bad. We've got to provoke these bastards into fighting."

"Cowards," Joseph sneered. His disdain mirrored that of the other three officers.

"Questions?" asked Joura. There were none. "Very well. Get to it."

***

Offshore, in Puget sound, the AEGIS cruiser Relentless stood at a dead stop in the middle of the water. "Targets confirmed. ASAT launch in five...four...three..." The captain smiled grimly as the XO continued the countdown. He doubt the ASAT missiles would hit all of the Space Union satellites, but even knocking out half would be a great help to the beleaugered troops in the Columbia Valley. 1st and 5th Armies were taking a beating, and now it was time to alleviate that. "...Two...one...fire! Birds away!" The captain continued to smile as the missiles streaked upward in the sky. It wasn't exactly hard to predict the location of a spy-eye, once you knew the pattern...

***

Mexicali, Baja California
As the Halberdgardian ships pounded the city, the few rebels who remained in the city scurried like so many rats, desparately searching for cover. Colonel Arrison, who was in command of the rebel forces in Baja, secretly envied the ones who'd escaped.

It had started a few hours after news reached them of Guaymas. He'd sent some units east, to Hermosillo, and others north, to San Diego. The rough equivalent of a brigade was left to guard Mexicali and Tijuana, with a regiment in the south around La Paz.

Damn it, I should've gone with them. But no, I had to play the hero. Couldn't be seen as a coward, could? Damn Isaac, he's going to get us all killed. And for what? A stupid, bloody, chair that he can -- Arrison's inner exchange was interrupted quite suddenly as a sixteen-inch shell hit the command center dead on.

To the south, in La Paz, much the same was going on, though the rebels were taking fewer casaulties. Those who survived were searching for whatever scraps of white cloth they could find.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada
Colonel Daisuke Saito looked west to the setting sun as he waited for the crew to finish loading the baggage onto the V-22 Osprey. It was a picturesque sunset, with Sol a fiery yellow-orange set against a deep red sky. Red the color of blood.

The Blackhawk helicopter moved around from behind the building. Keeping the sun to the west, it was impossible to see, an infintesimal black dot against a sea of fire. From the Osprey landing pad on top of the corporate skyscraper, it looked hardly larger than a gnat.

Major Jeremy Forsythe looked down and to his right, at the sniper laying prone on the floor of the chopper. The wind from the rotors buffed his heavy greatcoat. "How you holdin' up, Moscovitz?"

"Wind's annoying, but it's alright," replied the SAS sergeant.

"First priority is the Japanese colonel. After that, his female assistant."

"Roger." Moscovitz furrowed his brow in concentration, and slowly squeezed the trigger. The shot rang out from the rifle, though it was not quite so loud relative to the rotor blades.

As Saito stood half a meter from the door of the plane, Major Nailen thought she heard something. She looked west, and back to Saito. Just in time to see his head explode and his body flip over the railing, landing on the concrete below with a sickening noise, somewhere between a squish and a crunch. Her eyes went wide. She screamed. "Daisuke!"

Several gunshots rang out, and the attendants and guards around the plane fell. Black-clad special forces stormed the plane from behind the maintainence hut and the air-conditioning unit. More burst their way through the door where Saito and Nailen had left the building. One of them grabbed her, and forced her hands into plasticuffs. Several composite nightsticks beat her to the ground as she struggled to break free.

When she stopped struggling, the leader of the special forces lifted a radio to his mouth. "Major, operation successful. Subject A has been eliminated, and Subject B is in custody." He looked around to the bodies of the attendants and guards. "Some collateral damage was sustained."

Onboard the helicopter, Forsythe nodded. "Roger that."

Mexicali, Baja California
As the Halberdgardian ships pounded the city, the few rebels who remained in the city scurried like so many rats, desperately searching for cover. Colonel Arrison, who was in command of the rebel forces in Baja, secretly envied the ones who'd escaped.

It had started a few hours after news reached them of Guaymas. He'd sent some units east, to Hermosillo, and others north, to San Diego. The rough equivalent of a brigade was left to guard Mexicali and Tijuana, with a regiment in the south around La Paz.

Damn it, I should've gone with them. But no, I had to play the hero. Couldn't be seen as a coward, could I? Damn Isaac, he's going to get us all killed. And for what? A stupid, bloody, chair that he can -- Arrison's inner exchange was interrupted quite suddenly as a sixteen-inch shell hit the command center dead on.

To the south, in La Paz, much the same was going on, though the rebels were taking fewer casualties. Those who survived were searching for whatever scraps of white cloth they could find.

The two bombardment groups kept up their shelling for exactly sixty more minutes, for a total of two full hours of bombardment. Hundreds upon hundreds of more shells fell in both cities as the bombardment groups made a serious effort to deny the rebels in Baja California their largest cities and major command and control centers for the duration of the war.

At the end of the two hours, the pulsing beats of the Oakenfold song that had signaled the start of the bombardment suddenly ceased, to be replaced by Fleet Admiral Jack Forrester barking out a stern "CEASE FIRE!" The guns on all vessels of both strike forces stopped their last salvos, their final shells acting as one last "parting gift" to the beleaguered rebels of Mexicali and La Paz.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Back onboard the D.R.H. Majestic, Forrester was viewing the HCIA's latest satellite imagery of Baja California; more specifically, Mexicali and La Paz. The latter two subjects were images of city-wide devastation, though nowhere near the total-annihilation scale witnessed in the bombing of Guaymas. Fires raged throughout both cities in hundreds of craters left by the shelling, and though neither city was completely leveled quite like Guaymas had been, it would still take a hell of a lot of men, money, and work to restore the two capitals to a pre-war state of habitation.

Chalk up another one for the Loyalists, Forrester thought to himself with a hint of amusement. It was high time the Loyalists took advantage of the developments in Baja California and Sonora, Forrester decided, and so he decided to consult the Emperor.

Encrypted Transmission to the Office of Emperor Saraad

From: Fleet Admiral Jack Forrester, Halberdgardian First Naval Expeditionary Force
Re: Bombardment of Mexicali & La Paz

The bombardment of Mexicali and La Paz was successful. We believe we have achieved our objective of denying the rebels in Baja California two of their most important cities and command and control centers for the duration of the war; the destruction in both cities, while not approaching the scale of devastation witnessed in Guaymas, is such that we do not believe the rebels will be able to rebuild them before the war's end, given
their resources. I imagine that the rebels must be reeling from our latest strike, and this, combined with the leveling of Guaymas, has left the rebels in Mexico off-balance and severely weakened. I therefore suggest the deployment of a detachment of troops down to Mexico to re-take the territory. I would launch my own ground attack, but we have only limited infantry assets at our disposal, and they are ill-suited for the task of retaking such vast tracts of territory, as our current infantry complement is few in number. However, I can provide your men with substantial air and naval support, which would likely give them an overwhelming advantage. For now, the HFNEF will hold position off the coast of Baja California, in anticipation of your assault. Should you launch an attack on rebel-held territory in Mexico, we will be standing by. If not, we can provide assistance wherever needed.

Respectfully,
Fleet Admiral Jack Forrester
Commander
Halberdgardian First Naval Expeditionary Force

End Encrypted Transmission

Encrypted Transmission to Admiral Forrester:

Admiral Forrester,

I think I will take you up on your offer of air support. As I mentioned earlier, there are several hundred partisans in the area who should be more than sufficient to capture the burnt husks of the rebel strongholds. Hopefully we may end the war in the south soon, and thus bring the rebels in the north back under the control of the Commonwealth much sooner.

[Signed]Dayan Saarad I

Dayan sent the message to the Halberdgardian admiral, and got up to get a drink. He'd just poured a glass of brandy when there was a knock on his office door. "Come in," he said. The Minister of Foreign Affairs, Davis Hanson, stepped in. "Davis, how are you? Brandy?"

Davis nodded. He had bags under his eyes. So did Dayan, in fact. Everyone in the Palace was exhausted. "Fine. Majesty, I bring news."

Dayan raised an eyebrow. "I guess it'd be too optimistic to hope that the rebels have surrendered?"

Davis nearly laughed. Nearly. "Not so much news as rumors, I guess. But anyway, they say that Sulemain al Bashir is dead, shot by extremists in Russia."

The Emperor's face remained expressionless. "Who exactly is they?"

"Mostly conspiracy nuts on the internet, sir."

"And you believe them because..."

"Your wife's family contacted her. Seems her father was involved as well, though they aren't sure if he's hurt or not."

Dayan didn't say anything for several moments. "And you think something has happened?"

"You know how the Ottomans are, sir. Unless they're conquering some new territory, they do rash things." Even though the Khailfah al Musilmeen was Malkyer's closest ally, there was no reason to deny the truth.

Dayan nodded slowly. "Well, have the mayor domo see to it that Tatiana gets to Jamaica as soon as possible. She ought to be safe enough leaving from there for Europe and then onto Asia." Hanson nodded, and left.

Dayan sat down in his chair, slowly. He knocked back the rest of the brandy, and thought to himself, Hell, why can't I have a good day?

***

In Los Angeles, Colonel Weisman stormed out of the command post. He had insisted on seeing the Kazaki commanders personally. As he walked brazenly down the streets, ignoring the explosions around him, the squad he'd brought with him followed him in lockstep formation, trying their best to imitate their colonel's calm.

When they reached the docks, where the worst fighting was occuring, he looked for the Kazaki flagship. There, he thought. He walked towards it, and squinted as an explosion lit up the sky overhead. He saw a Kazakian officer running around, and grabbed him roughly by the shirt cuff. "I need to to speak with Admiral Franker right now," he said in a quiet voice that nevertheless carried through the shouts, screams, and explosions around him.

It was a cold morning. General Nitz was heading off to the Officer Tent to debrief the officers on the plans for today. As he entered the room went silent. Senior Officers sat in the front with Junior ones sitting in the back. As Nitz reached the podium, he began:

"Today is a new day. Today we will begin phase 2 of Operation Ironfist. Unlike the past two days, we will finally bring the ironfist of the Space Union's military on to the unfortunate enemy. Many will die, but this is a cause to die for. I give my officers whatever they need."

Nitz paused as a screen came down behind him. He turned around and showed a map of the valley. Red lines showed the Space Union positions, while yellow lines showed what is thought to be enemy positions. As Nitz stepped foward to address the audience:

"This shows what we are going to do. We are going to send the Armored Divisions to attack first followed by Mechanized and Light Infantry Divisions. We will keep most of the troops here to guard the artillery and such, but a large commitement of troops will invade enemy lines. To accomplish this we will cross the Columbia River and attack straight foward with our SPM-192 and M1A5 MBTs. This will send the enemy in chaos. While that is done, we will have the infantry come and slaughter the enemy. It will be like taking candy from a baby. Our current objective is to reach this point by the end of the day."

Nitz pointed to the screen and a green line showed what he was saying. As the offices looked at the screen they knew it was a well-thought out plan.

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

It was dawn at the riverbanks of the Columbia River Valley. On one side, Space Union troops layed dug-in while on the other side Loyalist were dug-in. It had been a stalemate for the last 2 days, while the artillery was firing. Most of the soldiers wanted to see some action. Today they would get it. At 9:46 AM, news came into to begin Phase 2 of Operation Ironfist.

Immediately, Space Union snipers set themselves up inside foxholes in friendly territory. They were excellent marksman and they would pick-off the soldiers that made it through the line, would be picked off by the snipers. Other snipers would go along and pick off targets inside enemy territories. Either way the enemy was done.

At 9:50, all across the front, guns fell silent, and nothing was heard except mother nature doing her daily work. But this was shattered in the next second, a blast of rocket shells hurled all across at the enemy positions on the other side of the river. Following the attacks, tanks, APCs, IFVs, and soldiers rushed into the river. Enemy fire took out scores of the soldiers, but most hid behind armored vehicles. As some of the soldiers came across the river, they opened up their M8 Automatic Rifles and began clashing with the enemy. The SPM-192 and M1A5 began shooting right into the crowd of enemy soldiers, sending shells hurling at the enemy. HEAT and KE rounds were shot into enemy lines to penetrate them. As more IFVs, and APCs crossed the rivers, soldiers poured out of them, and clashed with the enemy. No matter how good the defenses, the enemy was done for.

The same events were occuring everywhere on the banks of the river. No spot was left clean from passing soldiers. It was a mammoth invasion. A total of 26,000 soldiers crossed the river, with 25,000 tanks, and 1,800 IFVs and APCs. But up in the sky the torment was even worse. RAH-64 Commanche attack helicopters attacked enemy positions with Hellfire missiles. At total of 1,500 attack helicopters through the missiles straight into enemy positions. Along with that, transport helicopters scooped down with soldiers parachuting down into enemy territory, attacking from above. It was death from above.

Nitz watched from reconnisance aircraft pictures the chaos. He laughed at the torment.

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

It was the midnight. The officer at the Spy Satellite Center was half-asleep. But suddenly a huge warning sound came on. He quickly jolted alive and looked at the screen. Enemy missiles had been fired at the satellites and were going to hit them in 60 seconds. Immediately, he turned on the NDS Missile Shield online. All across space, Space Union's Attack Satellites, turned on their defense mechanisms. Mostly an array of missiles designed to shoot down incoming missiles. They would be still effective against conventional weapons. The satellites took aim and unleashed an array of missiles on the incoming missiles.

Back in base, the operator turned on the laser. The laser shot up into the sky. It bounced off satellite mirrors and was refocused at the incoming missiles. A total of 10 of these lasers were in affect. Hopefully they would hit, the operator thought.

Idiots, thought Sergeant Dan Parkins from his tree branch. Peering through the scope of his rifle, as he watched the enemy forces rush the Columbia river (http://www.photo.net/photo/pcd1661/columbia-river-gorge-49.4.jpg). He fired twice in rapid succession, picking off two junior officers. He then dropped from the tree and ran crouched to a new spot behind some rocks. From there, he watched the rear of the enemy line, searching for muzzle flash. There, he said to himself. He brought up the rifle quickly and squeezed a shot off at the enemy sharpshooter. He ducked as another rocket hit the ridge behind him, and then Parkins disappeared into the brush to find a new spot to shoot from.

After the initial shock from the devastating rocket attack began to wear off, the Loyalist troops began opening fire on the enemy with a murderous zeal. "Hose 'em," screamed Corporal Howard Fleming, and the machine gun nest to his right began spitting a stream of fire and lead at the stuck forces. Behind him, Lieutenant Davenport chuckled as he chambered a round into his BR-7 rifle.

***

To the north, Colonels Sean Finnigan and Micheal Richards had their regiments in place, ready to storm the positions held along the Space Union flank by rebel forces that were just as exhausted and battle-weary as the Loyalists opposing them. Lieutenant Colonel Wainwright, of the 86th LIR, was placed in overall command of the attack, with Major Seamus of the 7th UG as his second.

To the best of their knowledge, meaningly hopefully, the rebels did not know that they were approaching, and so far the Engineering Battalion had been able to assemble a pontoon bridge halfway across the river. Explosive charges had been set on each pontoon, in order to destroy it quickly should it fall to the enemy. Sheets of scrap metal, along with sandbags and even a couple of derelict civilian vehicles, served as cover for the riflement guarding the engineers. Barring their discovery by rebel forces, the bridge would be complete in a few more hours and three battalions of infantry would march across and harass the enemy's rear, and then retreat into the wildnerness of Washington province.

Across the river and half a mile south, Lieutenant Harold Baker frowned as he looked through the binoculars. "Cap'n, you'd better come see this..."

***

“Check it out, sir,” said the technician excitedly. Captain Harman raised an eyebrow.

“What exactly is it, and why is it on my ship?”

“Well sir, we ‘eard you’d had a spot of trouble with the ASAT counter-measures on those satellites last night. Anywho, we brought this down for you.” Harman frowned. The Space Union satellite-defense network was more thoroughly integrated than they’d expected. If he’d launched a dozen missiles, one or two may have gotten through to the targets. As it was, they’d all been destroyed.

“Lovely. I still don’t know what it is.”

“Oh. Right. It’s a Gers-Fulson Laser,” the tech said as if Harman knew what the hell that was. “Some chemistry professor at the Royal University was workin’ some experiment with light or somethin’ and he stumbles across this. He told one of his mates, a physics chap who’s done work for us before, and bam! A lovely tool, ain’t it?”

Harman nodded. “I think I remember reading about it in Military Technology a couple months ago. What was a chemistry teacher doing with a weapons-grade laser?”

“Well, old boy, any laser with enough juice and the right refraction is considered weapons grade. You just point it at the satellite and boom! Blinder’n Ray Charles,” said the technician, laughing at his own joke. Harman looked at the man, wondering just how he’d gotten the job.

“Well. Thank you. I’ll have the men install it, and we’ll use it later today.”

OOC: By weapons-grade laser, I don't mean something out of Star Wars, just something that will blind it's target, be it a satellite lense or man's eyes.

bump, with emphasis on Kazaki

As shots rang out from snipers, soldiers ducked into the water and into the sand on the beaches of the river. Others ran behind tanks and AFVs, to cover themselves while gunning down enemy soldiers. As soldiers fell from machine gun fire, others dug-in and began leveling the enemy under fire. Soldiers began shooting rocket launchers right at the enemy and throwing grenades in hopes of penetrating the line of the infantry.

Tanks pushed on even under fire. They shelled machine gunners with KE shells and then used their .50 cals to mow down the enemy. As they got farther, they even ranover enemy soldiers. Nothing would stop the assault of the SPM-192. A couple though were damaged from a few rocket launches from the enemy, but the tanks immediatly fired at their positions, effectively neutrilizing that area.

Snipers dug into near by trees as they took aim and shot what seemed to be officers. To the snipers, they were easy kill. When they were done, they moved and waited for enemy snipers to shoot. Upon seeing muzzle fire, they shot the sniper hoping to hit him right in the forehead. After that they once more moved again.

As more vehicles came out of the waters and into fire, soldiers poured out of IFVs and APCs, gunning the enemy down. They were going to use sheer firepower to bring the enemy down.

Up in the sky, 30 Attack Helicopters, swooped down and launched their array of Hellfire missiles right into the enemy targets. They then flew up to refuel and rearm before doing that over again.

This was the same scene all over the river banks.

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

Back at camp, artillery used satellite picturing and Radar to home in on retreating positions, and continuely poured shells on top of the enemy.

This was the report for Nitz. As he read it, he was pleased. He wanted to end this fight in 1-2 weeks. He then wanted to move south, while keeping a large garrison here.

OOC: Space Union...can your tanks float?

OOC: Space Union...can your tanks float?

They can forge. They were designed to do this like most modern tanks today. Also for the Columbia River Valley, I'm doing my RPs based on this image: http://pirlwww.lpl.arizona.edu/~turtle/photos/ptys594a011.jpg

I think that is the problem :)

Captain Hiram Franklin found himself in command of C Company, 5th Battalion very suddenly, as Major Clarke was killed by a sniper. He looked quickly around, to assess the situation along the riverbank. Machine gun nests above him were raining lead on the enemy crossing the river, though they could not penetrate the armor of the tanks forging their way across. He lifted a radio, and issued orders. "Machine guns, cease fire. Only open up on soft targets," he commanded, hoping to prevent more guns from falling to enemy rocket fire.

Snipers in the trees and brush continuously shot enemy officers, and anyone who carried anti-tank weapons. He could see muzzle flashes on the other side of the river, enemy snipers doing much the same. He spoke again into the radio, and several machine guns along the top of the ridge began peppering the snipers with fire.

As the first Space Union AFVs reached the bank, small groups of Loyalists surged forward, firing anti-tank rockets at point-blank range. Sappers ran along the bank, tossing mines down. Several were shot, but even the wounded continued to place explosives as long as they could.

When the first IFVs and APCs landed, infantry poured out of them. Captain Franklin gulped, and thumbed the command switch again. "Company will fix bayonets," he shouted. Shooting paused for a fraction of a second as the troopers reached for their bayonets and affixed them to their rifles. Seconds later, he gave the order to charge the enemy. Guided by the prinicipal of Chaotic Harmony, the soldiers rushed forward, ducking, rolling, and sprinting to the enemy. They got in close, so that the artillery could not fire on them without killing a like number of friendly forces, and proceeded to stab with their bayonets and club the enemy with their rifles.

In Malkyer, soldiers were taught bayonet combat before they learned to throw grenades. Countless brushfire wars, and fighting ill-equipped native militias in Africa had shown how devastating a small but determined force of melee fighters could push back a superior force, once they got close. Slowly, the Loyalists forced their way to the enemy transports. Dozens fell under gunfire, but they pressed on, fighting with knives, entrenching tools, and broken rifles. Even if this counter-attack failed, there were another one hundred and forty thousand men on the ridge, armed with bayonets, knives, and shovels to accompany their rifles and rockets. Today was shaping up to be a bloody one...

***

Sergeant Dan Parkins had long since stopped shooting enemy officers. He concentrated his search on the other ridge, looking for muzzle flashes. "There," whispered his spotter, a young corporal. The man pointed.

"Uh-huh," was Parkins' only response. He squeezed off a shot, and ducked quickly behind the log. The two men began crawling away slowly, so as to avoid attracting attention.

***

In Puget Sound, the Gers-Fulson Laser was finally ready. The technician punched in the firing codes, and the newly mounted laser slowly traversed its base, point upward toward the sky. "Right, Cap'n, if you'd be so kind as to order everyone to close their eyes..."

Harman nodded. He picked up the receiver for the PA System. "This is Captain Harman. We are firing the Laser now, everyone please don eye protection, or move away from portholes." Everyone on the bridge either shut their eyes tight or donned some sort of protective goggles.

The technician squeezed his eyes closed, and hit a button on the control panel. A brilliant red flash blazed upward from the laser, streaking into the night sky. The laser lowered a little, traversing on the base, and fired again. It did so four more times, and then shut itself down. The tech opened his eyes, and grinned widely. "She's a beaut, eh? With a little luck, those flamin' satellites 'll be blind any second now."

Harman nodded. "How long will they be blinded?"

"Until the bastards put another camera on 'em," the tech said knowingly.

[OOC: Before I get slapped with GM accusations for this post, I'd just like to let you all know I TGed Malkyer about this, and he gave me the green light for it.]

Rebel-Held Mexico, Malkyer, 1200 Local Time

Across Baja California and Sonora, rebels bearing white flags, most of them improvised, came forward from the depths of the desert to Loyalist partisan command posts. They laid down their arms, and were promised that they would be imprisoned as POWs, but otherwise not harmed, for the duration of the war. Partisans moved out across the country to secure the last rebel holdouts, and within hours, Baja California and Sonora were more or less recaptured.

Waters off the Coast of Baja California, 1200 Local Time

"That's great," Forrester was saying. "You sure? OK, well, we'll be heading out soon, so if you need help, tell me now. You're sure. OK, then, Major. Good luck."

Forrester cut the connection, and then addressed his bridge crew.

"Well, apparently our operations here in Mexico have convinced the rebels here to surrender. Some Loyalist partisans are securing Baja California and Sonora as we speak. They'll probably be reinforced by Loyalist troops relatively soon, but at any rate, the southern threat has been eliminated. We'll be proceeding up north to continue ops against the rebels on the West Coast. However, it is at this point unknown whether or not we will be assisting the Ottoman forces against Kazaki. Both those countries are fielding fleets much larger than this expeditionary force, so I'm not sure what a difference, if any, we'll make to that battle. Therefore, we're going swing around the battling fleets, proceed up north on to Oregon, and work our magic there, unless the Emperor tells us otherwise."

The fleet, now having re-assimilated the battleships that participated in the bombardment of Mexicali and La Paz into the main formation, steamed north at flank speed, on a course that would take them well west of the naval battle raging outside of L.A., then up to Portland. If the operation in Oregon went well, from there they could perhaps come south again to L.A., and hit the flanks of the Kazaki fleet, which might help turn the tide in favor of the Ottomans.

OOC: Okay I realise that we have a problem. I'm going to leave to India on Sunday (July 17th) so my RPs are going to be held-up. So I was thinking that I would find a replacement for me in this RP. Maybe Credonia, or someone else that has some free-time. :) Is that alright by you guys?

Oh yeah, I'll post my RP in a little while.

OOC: read -->http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=9247138&postcount=59

"Are the broadcast speakers set?"

"They are, m'lord." The broadcast would sent throughout the Vancouver/Seattle area, and Isaac hoped that it would cause enough confusion and discord amongst the Loyalist ranks that he would be able to enter the capital and take the Palace with his core force of ten thousand men. Most of the Loyalist troops in the area were engaging Space Union and rebel forces to the east, or fighting rebel troops along the Idaho-Oregon border. However, they still outnumbered Isaac's troops three-to-one in the city.

Isaac took a deep breath, clearing his mind. He sipped on a glass of water, wetting his throat. The technician counted down from five on his fingers. When he got to one, he pointed at Isaac and a small red light came on in the recording booth. Everything was ready.

"My people, my brothers," he began, "These trying times threaten to swallow us all in a black abyss of death and mayhem." People would be in shock, now, hearing his voice. The country, at least the Loyalist portion, and assumed him dead since the first days of the war. "I know many feared me lost, but I speak to you now, telling you that I will not abandon this fight while I have breath in my body. Not as my father and brother have abandoned you to the darkness."

"When the first shots of this civil war were fired, did my father stand his ground, did he lead the people through the tunnel to the light? No, he ran like a coward to San Fransisco the first chance he got. My older brother Alexei ran as well, leaving the people of Malkyer to suffer."

"My father and my older brother have forfeited their obligations to Malkyer, and thus Malkyer must forfeit its obligations to them. My father, and my brother, are non-persons, animals to be shot on sight. No one will ever know how much it hurts to say these things, about my own blood, but they must be said."

"This leaves one person who can lead Malkyer out of the darkness, and into the light. Myself. Since the betrayal of our nation and our people by my family, I must redeem us all by doing this. I do this not because I want to, but because I must."

He paused to drink more water. "My first act as emperor is this: I absolve my mother and younger brother of all crimes. It is true, they fled to San Fransisco as well, but they can hardly be blamed for it. My mother is Ottoman, without a drop of Malkyeri blood. She cannot fairly be expected to rule us. My brother was perhaps naive, trusting our father and Alexei not to run like the cowards they are, but he is young."

"Even now, in our darkest hour, the fight is not yet lost. The great and noble nations of Space Union and [x] have answered the call to stand by our side, and as I speak they are fighting the enemies of Malkyer. Unfortunately, our old allies the Ottomans have decided to take up arms against the rightful ruler of Malkyer. They, along with the Halberdgardians, have been duped by my father. Maybe the future will bring them redemption, but it is not my place to say. What I can say is this: they are helping my father to end the era of peace and freedom in this nation, and bring about a twisted new government, one that will oppress the people, and bring to and end everything we have worked so hard for."

"I call on all of you now to stand up and throw off the blindfolds my father has so cleverly tied around your eyes. Free you vision, and fight with me."

The light went off. The technician removed his headphones. He clasped Isaac's hand in a firm handshake. "Excellent, m'lord."

***

Major Forsythe frowned as the broadcast ended. "Little bastard conventiently forgets to mention that he fled the capital, as well. Bloody farce, this whole war." With that, he headed back to the chopper. Sergeant Moscovitz followed him, carrying his new rifle, a 20mm recoiless.

***

Dayan slumped against a wall in his office. Several aides looked at him, worried, but unsure of what to do. Finally, one of them worked up the nerve to speak. "Majesty...Is there anything we can-"

"Kill him." Dayan's eyes were hard, devoid of the laughter that usually inhabited them. "He betrayed us, he betrayed his family and his country, because of his own greed. Kill him." The aide nodded slowly, and ran out of the room.

Well I don't think we can wrap things up by Sunday. I suggest we do what Malkyer said and put it on hold. I won't be back until August 16th, so this is going to hurt the RP. So I'm voluntarily stepping down. By the time I come back we probably could've finished the RP. I'll find a replacement for you by Friday. Sorry for this problem but I have to say that this has been the best RP I've been in for a long, long time :)

OOC: Malkyer invited me into this RP to replace the other guy supporting the rebels because he is inactive. I am basically taking the numbers and position of the forces my predacessor deployed.

IC:
Task Force 3 Nearing the Ottoman Fleet

The first shells of the Ottoman Fleet whirled in, smashing into the sea for the most part, due to the nature of shelling. A few tore into the ships of the fleet, one struck a Jamshid class destroyer while two frigates were torn asunder. Hardly an auspiscious beginning of a battle. Alert radars went up in the command room of the Shahanshah Khosru, "Vampire, Vampire" Incoming contacts moving rapidly at 400 knots, assumed to be cruise missiles. Other contacts showed planes, and in a second, more contacts lit up the screen, obviously, they were missiles. Admiral Sardarizadeh was tensed with that, the Ottomans had taken the initiative and attacked first, which would undoubtedly harm his plans. Not a problem though, superior technology helped in these cases, "Prepare countermeasures, also attack."

The improved AEGIS systems went to work plotting the trajectories of the oncoming missiles and calculating an intercept point, all in less than a second. The crowning acheivement of the computer process came as the automated launch of SM-2 SAMs flew up from their ships in a cloud of smoke towards the cruise missiles and ASMs, followed by another volley of them. The missiles did well, exploding in front of their targets to hit them with shrapnel and destroy their guidance systems or completley destroy the missile, but they were hardly perfect, and 25 continued forward. CIWS activated, those with the new "Metal Wall" system, which used a centrifuge to drive a system of rotating gun barrels firing at enough speed to shoot metal slugs literally 1/36th of an inch apart towards the horizon at the oncoming missiles literally tore the oncoming vampires apart before they reached the ship, yet twelve unfortunate vessels, eight destroyers and four frigates, were hit and going down.

The Shahanshah Khosru was fully prepared for battle, as were the ships of the Parthian task forces. Hundreds of combat vessels were strung out over the seas, packed with missiles prepared to fire on the Ottoman fleets. The carriers of the fleet were turning into the wind and unleashing swarms of F-78s, flying into the air packed with missiles. F/A-91s followed them, loaded with ASMs. The planes were to simply move around the fleet while the first phase of the attack was put into effect.

Admiral Sardarizadeh looked tense, he was about to make the opening move for a battle that would end with the deaths of thousands. The Ottomans were tough fighters and respectable adversaries, but he hoped he would prevail. Looking at the situation map, and the latest satellite scans, plus radar data fed to the Parthians by Rebel intelligence, the first move was to be made.

"And the die is cast" Said the admiral as he pressed the confirm order button.

From the initial advance vessels, a flight of 450 Doomingsland-designed trireme ASMs flew off the launchers and flew down to skim along the sea. Flying at subsonic speed and using active radar cancellation devices built into the missile, combined with the low altitude above the waves made the trireme a difficult missile to detect. As the missile came within 40 miles of the target, it would engage a solid fuel rocket to propel it to almost mach 3, and as it made the final approach, it would pop up from its low cruising altitude to smash its 800 pound warhead into the ship.

However, the admiral knew the Ottoman vessels were on alert, and would notice these missiles or at least some of them, thus, it would be wise he had decided to utilize missiles the Ottoman vessels would not miss, and would surely use every means to engage. After a short delay, to ensure the triremes would arrive a few minutes after the next phase made their effect, phase II went into action. Clouds of smoke covered the decks of five arsenal ships as 75 SLBM sized rockets flew into the air. At 80,000 feet, part of the missile fell apart, to reveal another missile, the Doomingsland-designed quinquereme missile. Once released, the missile flew up to 120,000 feet, activating scramjets to propel it at mach 7 above the reach of most missiles. Once they neared their target, a directional thruster would send it shooting downwards in a terminal dive, at a speed of almost mach 20. A penetrator of DU and an 1800 pound block of ONC explosive ensured it broke through the thickest of armor and could kill the largest superdreadnoughts. These were targetted upon Ottoman Battleships and other capital ships. Hopefully, the high-IR signature would alert the attention of the Ottomans to concentrate on the missiles while the triremes snuck up unnoticed.

300 SM-2 missiles obscured the ships of the fleet, shooting off hundreds of tiny rocketing lights at the planes, hopefully trying to smash the enemy aircraft as they fled from the scene. The main expectation, however, went to the F-78s, who cut effortlessly through the skies at a speed the Mig-29s could not escape from, firing AIM-156 HAMRAAM LIDAR guided missiles at the Ottoman planes before attempting to move in closer to engage with sidewinder II AAMs.

Flight Annihilation: Over LA

The F-78s missile warning radars lit up, causing them to pull agressive moves and high G turns, occasionally deploying electrical disturbance pods to destroy missile guidance systems or chaff to confuse them. In the end, the nimble fighters avoided the missiles slated for them, then pulled forward towards the Ottoman Airplanes, each firing a Sidewinder II AAM before pulling up as they shot their explosive cannon at the Ottoman Planes.

The Formation of the massive Al Muslimeen Fleet was design as defense gird against missiles attacks. As the 450 trireme ASMs came closer to the ships, the auto defense systems came online and start to fire SM-2 SAMs at the triremes and then the CIWS system came online and starting taking down large numbers of the triremes. Yet a numbers of the triremes manger to get thought the defense net and took down four Sovermenny Class Destroyers and two Neustrashimy Class Frigates. When the quinquereme missile were coming into range for the defense system to attack, the SM-2 SAMs began firing at the missles, taking many out in the air,before they could reach their targets…the Al Muslimeen defense systems were design to handle multiple targets…yet about 10 transports and six Neustrashimy Class Frigates were not so lucky they took major hits and sunk.


About 28 MiG-29s were shot down do to the AA fire and the missle attacks, the other manger to get by firing their countermeasues and thanks the ECM pods they manger to mess up most of the missles that were being fired at them. They began returning fire on the Parthian fighters. Do the fact that Parthians were only targeting the MiG-29s, the Su-37s and Harriers were able to get out of the AA fire range, and they began to join the fight against Pathians…they began firing about 200 heat seekers missiles at the Parthians…the battle for the skies had just began

Fleet Admiral Osman Pazcantoglu order his battleships to keep on firing their cannons at the Parthian fleet, also he order around of cruise missiles to be fired at the Parthian fleet. About 280 were fired at the Parthian Fleet.Also the fleet, began to fire another round of harpoons at their foes,about 400 harpoons were fired in total. To add to the attack, the fleet manger to fire a wave of SS-N-22 Sunburns at the Parthian fleet, nearly 200 were fired at the fleet, they were heading to targets at March 3, then the numbers of 100 SS-N-19 SHIPWRECK at the Parthian ships…sheer massive amount of missiles being fire was madness. Then the Fleet Admiral order the fleet to fire about 400 torpedo from all the ships and subs at the Parthian fleet…his main goal was to give the Parthians too many targets for them to handle.

Parthian Fleet-

Looking at the radar screen, the Parthian admiral could only stare in shock at over 500 missiles headed directly for the Parthian fleet. It was perhaps one of the largest missile spreads he had ever encountered, radar contacts blipped across the screen. Now, they had no choice, they would have to use the new weapons.

Several arsenal ships each fired off several large, SLBM sized missiles, which flew in a massive glaring blast towards a designated point in the missile spread. Each missile was filled with a fuel-air explosive, which detonated in missile concentrated areas. Missiles were vaporized in the searing heat and detonated, setting off a chain reaction detonating other missiles nearby. What was left scattered of the spread now was engaged with hundreds of SM-2s, spashing many missiles, but not saving seven vessels, one cruiser, and six frigates, from being hit.

Soon enough, the sonar signals reported hundreds of torpedoes headed in, the Ships took evasive action, dropping noisemakers and sending some torpedoes heading off, but many came in too close. Ships with the metal wall system fired away thousands of slugs into the water, shredding the torpedoes as they approached the ship, but the unfortunate ones that didnt were utterly smashed. 7 frigates and 3 destroyers were going down after multiple hits by torpedoes. Ottoman guns further destroyed 2 cruisers and a single destroyer.

Now, the Parthian vessels struck back. 250 trireme missiles shot off from the launchers of the Parthian fleet while 75 more quigriemes boosted up into the athmosphere and then prepared to engage a preplanned target, either a battleship or carrier. To add to the chorus, 350 large dumbfire rockets flew off from the arsenal ships and flew in the direction of the Ottoman fleet. 6-10 miles away, the rockets broke up over the sea, dropping a torpedo which targetted a sound signature and sped after it. The massive superdreadnoughts, five of them in total, turned their turrets towards the Ottoman fleet, and using their radar guided fire control systems which aimed the turrets automatically depending upon radar signals. In a chorus of flame, the 28 inch corraguns fired off their massive shells.

In the skies above, the nimble F-78s pulled high G turns and evasive maneuvers, releasing flares as they rolled through the skies at meteor-like speeds and firing Sidewinder II missiles on the heat signatures of the enemy planes. Others simply would fly directly up, then dive down in a diving corkscrew firing their cannon and ripping apart planes in bursts of tracer. The F-78s had taken few losses, and were nimbly avoiding most missiles with ease, only the bursts of guns did them in, sending the pilots bailing out.

Malkyeri Waters off the Coast of Oregon, 1342 Local Time

The HFNEF had managed to circumvent the massive fleet battle occurring at Los Angeles, swinging wide around the dueling Ottomans and Parthians to be able to head north to Oregon unhindered. They would soon be in position to strike critical coastline targets, and could hit targets further inland with air strikes. After finishing up ops in Oregon, they might be able to swing back down south and hit the flanks of the Parthian fleet. Though the HFNEF was relatively small compared to either the Ottoman or Parthian fleets, it was still advanced and packed a substantial amount of firepower. That, combined with the element of surprise, might turn the tide of the battle at L.A. in favor of the Ottomans. It was only a matter of which side held out longer. The Halberdgardians were praying it would be the Ottomans.

OOC: Okay guys, I found a replacement. Credonia will replace me.

Credonia-Just read through the entire thread to understand what has happened. You'll pick up in the Columbia River Valley front. From there you can do what you think is right ;)

The Al Muslimeen Fleet took some heavy damage (about 20 ships of many class were lost) from the Parthian counter attack…yet instead firing back, the entire fleet left the battle…they ahead to the nearest loyalist port, where they meet entire Al Muslimeen Army core that was assign to the civil war. The transport loaded all the troops in the ships, which took one week to compete. Why were the Al Muslimeen withdrawing… the reasoned was that during the battle with the Parthian Fleet…Field Marshal of the Al Muslimeen Army Fyodor Ivanrovich Petrovic had got a highly encoded message from High Command saying the following..” Come home, Come home” which was code for something bad was about to happen in the inside the empire and they needed every ship and man back home to protect the empire from this threat.. The Field Marshal wrote a letter to Emperor Dayan, why he had to leave and his nation guilt for leaving a ally their time of need..he never could forgive himself for leaving the loyalist to fend for themselves… with that being said…The Al Muslimeen Fleet headed home, they set sail in the sunset..never to come back to Malkyer…

OOC: I am withdrawing from this rp, do to family issue has came up, and it will limited my time on this rp. I am sorry about this. truly I am sorry for leaving..

As the Ottoman ships departed, a ragged cheer arose from the rebels holding Los Angeles. Without ships or aircraft of their own, they'd had little choice but to endure the shelling of the city, and had been unable to strike back. Now, with the apparent victory of the Parthian fleet, the rebels would be able to move out of Los Angeles and destroy the Loyalist partisans hiding in the hills outside the city, and with Parthian reinforcements perhaps even retake Baja California and Sonora, which had fallen to a joint Halberdgardian-Loyalist offensive just days ago.

When the Parthian ships approached the harbor, dozens of dockworkers rushed to the piers to prepare them for the unloading troops. Several footsoldiers stopped to watch, until they were conscripted into heavy lifting by various non-coms.

Colonel Weisman grinned slightly as the first Parthian vessels docked. This war is turning everything upside down, he thought. Fighting for their lives against the Ottomans, welcoming the Parthians as allies...it was a lot to take in. Behind him, several soldiers began shouting "Glory to Parthia! Glory to the Shah!"

I'll let them celebrate tonight, he thought, but tomorrow the discipline is back. We can't look too sloppy for our guests. And God help any man too drunk for duty...

OOC: No worries, man. Family always comes before NS.

OOC: Weird. 3 of the 4 origional members have left the RP. Only Halberdgardia is in the RP, from the origional members. ;)

OOC: Weird. 3 of the 4 origional members have left the RP. Only Halberdgardia is in the RP, from the origional members. ;)

OOC: And I'm scared shitless that The Parthians and Credonia are going to kick my ass! I really hope we find a big-ass replacement for O.K. BTW, O.K., I hope all goes well with whatever your family issue is. I understand your reason for withdrawing; Malkyer's right: RL should always come before NS. I'll wait for some new people to fill in before I start leveling Portland...

The Parthian forces were pleased with the withdrawl of the Ottoman Forces, now, the only significant foreign force in Malkyer were the Halibergardians, who the Parthians greatly outnumbered. It would be easy to swing the war in the favor of the rebellion now, especially with the significant numbers of Parthian troops now deployed in LA.

The Parthian generals and commanders were pleased with the reception by the rebels, and showed their appreciation for their support by delivering shipments of arms and supplies. Crates of MREs, M1-A2 tanks and other weapons that were not in active use by Parthia, but still considered excellent, were being given out to support the Rebel soldiers. In discussion with the rebel commanders, the Parthians had expressed the need to clear Loyalist forces from the hills around the city, and preparations had been made for the offensive. Hundreds of artillery batteries had been set up, while a new airfield for the Parthian aircraft was set up. B-9 bombers and B-1Bs sat on the runway, being loaded with weapons for their war on the loyalists. The general Parthian plan for the offensive was simple, 3 divisions of Infantry and 1 regiment of armor would storm the city hills from the front while 5 divisions of Infantry and 1 division of armor looped around to hit the loyalists in the flank. Offensives were to follow a massive bombardment from artillery and air forces.

From that point, the Parthian units would divide, with one armored division and five infantry divisions moving south to secure Baja California while the remainder advanced north. The Parthian fleet would move up the coast with a single division of marines, securing the coast while the remainder of Parthia's forces hit the center or acted as the anvil for the amphibious hammer.

Colonel Weisman, being the senior Rebel officer in the California province, was in the conference room reviewing the battle plan with the Parthian commanders. The officers were surrounding a map table, which showed Los Angeles and the nearby areas on LCD. Orderlies provided coffee, tea, and other beverages to the officers.

Weisman pointed to an area outside the city. "We believe the main concentration of Loyalist forces is in this area," and with a few keystrokes the area turned blue. The shaded portion of the map was quite large, indicating the uncertainty of the enemy positions. "However, I must express concern with your attack plan. We aren't facing regular forces here; it won't be a set battle. The Loyalists have perhaps the equivalent of three light infantry battalions. We tried to clear them out a few weeks ago, before the Ottoman fleet attacked, but they're following Mao's Tatics to the letter. Enemy advance, we retreat. Enemy halt, we harass. Enemy retreat, we attack. As a suggestion, I would recommend putting more armor in the attack force. I can supplement you with infantry and tanks as well, but I've got to keep my artillery here to defend the city, in case Loyalists come up from Baja."

Weisman didn't say anything more, but he knew that if the Parthian officers had done their homework, they'd know that even in its strongholds the Rebellion enjoyed only minimal civilian support. Isaac's army was a ragtag collection of communists, fascists, splinter military groups, et cetera. Bound together only by our hatred of the Monarchy, he thought. Weisman himself had no quarrel with the Saarad Emperor, but loyalty was a thing taken very seriously in Malkyer, and he would not disobey his superior officers who'd chosen to side with Isaac. Even if we win, I wonder how much we will need these outsiders to prop us up?

***

Secret IC
Major Anselm Barton concentrated on a map in his makeshift command post, a small cave in the hills outside LA. His concentration was disturbed by a knock on the door. "Yeah," he said.

His adjutant, Captain Anderson, stepped inside. "Sir, they've arrived."

A wry grin spread across Barton's face. "Goody. Where?"

"Outside. Take a look?" Barton nodded, and followed the captain.

Several large crates were being off-loaded from trucks. "Here," said Captain Anderson, pointing to one that was open. Barton looked inside, and saw dozens of plastic tubes, about six inches in diameter and half a meter in length. "Meant for individual use by infantry against armor and slow-moving aircraft like helicopters. The rockets themselves are in those other crates over there. Officially, they're called Hornets, but the Bavarians up in Oregon have taken to calling them die Eier von Satan." Satan's Eggs, Barton translated mentally. When he saw the rockets, he knew why. They were small, as far as anti-tank rockets went, about four times the size of a large egg.

Anderson grinned. "Oh, they can't penetrate armor. Too small, not enough explosive or whatever. They're meant to disable the enemy tanks, so that they must either be abandoned, or destroyed at leisure by our troopers."

Barton smiled as well. With these, along with the mines he'd had his men lay, he could bleed the rebel and Parthian forces pretty good before he was forced to retreat.

***

"So it's safe to say that we're going to lose?"

Dayan leaned back in his chaired and rubbed his temples. Make the pain go away, he thought. He looked around the conference table in the Palace. So many faces, gone. Alex Woodruff, the President, killed while visiting the troops in Oregon. Melissa Alder, Minister of the Treasury, dead in the initial rebel attack. Even now, a rebel force ten thousand strong was chewing at the northern flank of the Loyalist defenders of the capital city.

The Deputy Minister of Defense, Harold Warowitz, spoke up. "The rebels are politically fragmented. If we can get rid of their leadership, or beat them solidly in the field, they'll start to tear one another apart. And when the rebels are beaten, the Parthian and Credonian forces gain no profit fighting us. They'll pull out," he finished. Competent, but a little naive, thought Dayan. Henry Nagara, the old Defense Minister, had died when his jet had been shot down over Nevada.

After listening to several more arguments, which continued in circles, Dayan finally spoke up. "We must address all contingencies, even the unpleasant ones. If things continue the way they're going, we'll have to evacuate the Loyalist leadership, and as much of the military and civilian population we can. Australia, I think. From secure territory, we can conduct the war in relative safety, and perhaps take back North America in the future."

None of the military officers or civilian ministers liked that alternative, but there was no point in burning all their bridges.