A Passion Play [Archive] - Page 2

The Macabees

31-05-2006, 18:36

Battle of Aurillac
Route I-90
Meníek had been assigned to policing duties along the I-90, north of Aurillac. He had been lucky. Other soldiers had to rebuild the once beautiful city into a modern fortress, erecting massive reinforced concrete bunkers, enormous anti-air artillery towers, and entrenchments for hundreds of anti-tank guns, and even vehicles, which were slowly trickeling into the city every day. They were preparing for one the largest sieges of modern history, if it ever began, and the Havenic hordes would have to fight for each measly suburb, and for each measly house, throughout the entire expansive city. To hold close to half a million men there were barely three infantry divisions to date, but if it seemed that the Killian lines were to buckle then over ten divisions could be swarmed into Aurillac for the defense. Meníek's job was not as easy as it sounded, although it wasn't as physical as the other jobs they gave soldiers around the city. But he had to keep the highway open, even while literally millions of people fled north. Fedala had ordered the civilian population to be led out of the city and into specially prepared suburbs in cities to the north, giving them a place to stay until Aurillac was rebuilt. The latter would be a large endeavour, and most likely something that would not be completed for years to come.

A family sedan sized car came up to his checkpoint and he slung his rifle over his shoulder. Bending down, he peered into the passenger's window and looked at the driver. It was a good looking young aged woman, about the age of Pater, and next to her seemed to be her husband and behind her, her two daughters. Pater smiled and ordered, "Your papers, please." He had to check everyone's papers, guarding against possible deserters or Havenic spies trying to make their way north. Each citizen that had been registered was issued with a clearance pass, and those that weren't would have to wait until the registered citizens were north, and then they would go through the rigorous process of indentification. Those of direct Havenic descent were put into ad hoc prisons south of the city, ready to be released to Haven, or most likely executed.

The husband presented the entire family's clearance passes and Pater checked them twice, and then he bent down again and said, "Identification, please." Each person handed over two forms of indentification, with the father producing it for his daughters, and Pater smiled and said, "You're good to go. You will be met by another checkpoint and you will have to repeat the same routine."

The man muttered his thanks and then the car started to drive off. Pater turned around and walked back to the guard post, waiting for the next car in line to finish the routine check for counterband material and make its way to him. That's when he first heard the rumbling to the distance. Artillery patterns were standard to hear at Aurillac. Only God knew just how many guns Haven and Hailandkill had arrayed at the battlefields south of the city. Artillery bombardments were normal occurances near the city, but never so close. The rumbling was followed by a high pitched whine and suddenly a wham! wham! wham! Pater was thrown to the ground and as he hit the asphalt road another road struck nearby, throwing his body up and then slamming it back down. Soon enough he was completely covered in dust and debris, and only managed to pick up his head after he was sure the bombardment was over. As he got up he couldn't see much around him. It was all covered in a thick layer of smoke, which looked like fog, but when it started to clear away he could only see horror.

The sedan that he had just checked was smashed under a dud artillery shell, penetrating right through the roof of the car and into the center, killing the husband and his two daughters, and leaving the woman injured. The once beautiful Macabee mother stepped out of her car, coughing and crying, with an arm missing and the rest of her body covered in blood. Petrified he swiveled his head to see the rest of the line of cars. There were at least eight burning wrecks along the road, along with a number of dead military police, and many more injured. It was a massacre. The densely packed civilians had presented perfect targets, as had his companions in arms. He counted at least thirty to forty dead, most of them civilians, and that number rose with every passing glance. A knot formed in his stomach and he found himself divulging the previous day's food, splattering it across the highway.

His commanding officer, Second Lieutenant Han S'híen, came running up to him. The man's thick back boots pounded on the asphalt, announcing his presence, and when Pater had finished what he was doing he hastily got up and saluted. The lieutenant didn't salute back. Instead he shouted, "No time for such ornamentary bullshit, private. I want you to get the rest of the men ordered and ready to take on more traffic. Help and clean up is on its way. I think they're going to move the checkpoints north, where Havenic artillery can't get to them. That only means that this place is going to turn into a fucking bumper to bumper shithole, and you're going to make sure that there are no accidents in this sector, got it?" He wasn't very polite, but Pater ventured to guess that officers weren't trained to be.

As Pater nodded and the lieutenant ran in the other direction, no doubt to direct other groups of military police, he could hear more rumbling off behind the horizon, and see the flames of striking artillery elsewhere throughout the highway, and other highways leading into the city. The Havenic army was trying to cut Aurillac for resupply, which would doom the Killian military. They were doing a damn effective job, and Pater Maníek wondered if anybody was going to do anything about it.

MA96F Rocket Artillery Battery, North of Aurillac
The eight huge vehicles of the battery were arrayed in a spaced configuration to avoid accurate and lethal counterbattery fire. The huge eighteen missile rack on the back of the truck was already pointing in the right direction. They were the same trucks used for the Praetorian II, but instead they had another launcher in the rear - huge multiple rocket artillery packs. With the ability to destroy five square kilometers worth of Earth with a single salvo from each truck they were very, very lethal beasts. Their rockets, better classified as short range missiles, had a range of over two hundred kilometers if need be. They were the Northern Alliance's safe guard in Ruska, producing enough firepower to provide artillery support on their own. Of course, they didn't produce the psychological impact of having tens of thousands of huge self-propelled artillery guns, but where space was of limited value and victory not something assured the more firepower you could pack into less volume the better. These huge rocket artillery vehicles, the Milíenarte.87s [or just M.87], were just that, providing a lot of firepower over Aurillac and acting as the guardian angels over the civilians and soldiers preparing [or leaving] the city. News of the artillery barrage was just filtering in, and hidden counterbattery radars in the city, and even mounted in nearby mobile trailers, were feeding them with coordinates to hit those KAG batteries back.

It was defeaning when they started to release their large rockets, and one could see them shriek over the city and past the horizon to their forefront. The single battery could take on up to eight seperate KAG batteries, using their firepower potential to blanket five square kilometers with their eighteen rockets. There was no way those KAG batteries could escape the blast area. No doubt some would survive the attack, but the Havenic artillery would feel a vast blow. They would pay for every civilians killed with eight batteries destroyed at a time. It would be hell for them to even attempt more bombardments after a while. They had tried to sow terror in the city, and now terror would seep into their own lines. The rumbles of hitting artillery were felt even by MA96F, so far away. Payback was just beginning.

As the missiles left their slots in less than twelve seconds an eerie silence fell over the battery once again, and then just as quickly their engines were turned on and they made their way to another location, hitting up to sixty kilometers per hour. Knowing that the Havenic armies had similar capabilities, they did not want to feel the brunt of their enemies' counterbattery potential. They were trained to deliver death, not receive it. Once in their new location they would be restocked with rockets and they would be prepared for another salvo.

Orbit
Geosynchronous satellite GK.98.RST, as it officially known as, shook as six small penetrators smashed into it's side at high velocities, slowed down only by the expenditure of energy as heat in the minor energy conversions done during flight. The six very small kinetic energy weapons [KEW] penetrated the spaced non-homgenous armour of the satellite, and then skewed during penetration. Macabee satellites were large, nuclear powered and expensive, and because of this they were very well protected from strikes. That meant that New Empire would need more than six small penetrators to successfully destroy a Macabee satellite, although he had injured it, and even that would take days to repair after a launch was sent into space. At this point in time that was far too dangerous, and thus the satellite would have to be brought done. But that mattered little, as there were dozens of other Macabee satellites prepared to take over its job, and if one fell there would be up to ten replacements. The Empire had methods to get huge numbers of expensive satellites into the sky quickly and effecienty, meaning that they would never lose eyes in space, even if it did cost a lot of money. Nevertheless, they would reciprocate the attacks over to New Empire soon enough.

Around the orbit of Earth, her moons and other universal masses were dozens of 'strike satellites' of the GKK series, armed to the brim with mid-sized rockets. These were directed by a close knit intelligence network between the satellites and a powerful compact camera underneath the body of the rocket. They were brilliant pebbles in essence, but a bit more up to the age. There were literally thousands of these throughout missile armaments on Macabee satellites, and they were waiting for someone to instigate some sort of space war. The 'final fronteir' was not somewhere the Empire would have liked to make war, but when someone begun something the Empire had to end it. In any case, the New Imperials would soon find out just how hard it would be to kill Imperial assets in the area. There were brief flashes of light marking the release of dozens of rockets from various satellites throughout the near galaxy, and these accelerated up to Mach 10 with their liquid rockets, and then shut off their rockets to conserve fuel. Unless they hit something, or a stronger force, they wouldn't slow down. They could produce counterthrust to slow themselves down, but most of the time there was enough space to turn at high speeds if they had to. The small cameras under each rocket painted targets for their mother satellites, and when they found one they would group up into teams of ten to fully knock out the satellite. They didn't rely on kinetic energy, but instead on this and a substantial warhead which would create shockwaves damaging the equipment and collapsing the satellite. It was a space HESH warhead, if one would like to compare.

All around them space became vibrant as smaller Macabee satellites moved away as the New Imperials trained their lasers on them. It would be instant death, but some were able to loose the tracking laser. Others moved as the laser attempted to penetrate their thick metal jackets, and only some were fully destroyed. Of course, they would be replaced within the day, but nonetheless it was money lost. However, the all out strike against New Imperial satellites would perhaps make them think twice on how they wanted to pursue warfare in this war of succession. New Empire would soon find out that this was not a new age, high tech battlefied, but a much more conventional slaughterhouse. They would have to adapt if they were to fit in, or they would find that they would be outmatched in the much more crucial areas of the war. But if they wanted to play in space the Empire could most assuredly provide enough firepower to put up quite a fight, and there was no doubt that the rest of the Northern Alliance, being the powerhouses they were, good up something equally as powerful.

Early July 2016
Prometheus Foundry, Blackwoord, DPUO
Jeneral Letent [Lt. General] Ferth Díesp looked around at the factory grounds, rather impressed. He had been at several tank factories belonging to Kriegzimmer throughout the Empire and client nations, and this was close to the power Kriegzimmer had arrayed. He was happy to be completing business with such a nation, and soon the Empire would have over a thousand new tanks to bolster their lines in southern Ruska. His attendants packed around him, looking around as well, although they were more confused than anything else. He made his way towards a door hidden in a small hut near the factory grounds, and he passed through his mind the instructions that were given to him on how to get to where he needed to be. He was sure enough that this was where the business would take place, and so he gracefully walked to the building, climbed up the steel staircase and then knocked on the door. Somebody opened it from the inside and he made his way in, followed closely by the others. With a smile from ear to ear he gleefully shaked the hands of about everyone in the room, trying not to miss anybody, and he shouted, "So, let's get straight to business!"

The others laughed gently and he was shown a seat, where he sat down and then sat face to face with who he thought was the man responsible for this specific sale. He hadn't been told who it was. He thought that DPUO had done a rather ad hoc job at choosing the sale's representative, and Ferth Díesp was not well informed on who was who. Because of that he tried to treat everybody equally. He opened a leather briefcase on the table infront of him and dispersed a few papers around to look professional. It really wasn't that complicated. He had orders to fly to DPUO and guarantee the sale of 800 of the new UT-1s per month, starting July, meaning by mid-September they would, hopefully, have 2,400 UT-1s, and most of them made into variants at home. This included a far larger and more rectangular turret, and the exchange of tracks and roadwheels for larger roadwheels and larger suspension units. But such technical talk was for the engineers back home.

The room was silent, obviously waiting for him to make his opening remarks. He guessed that these people took it seriously when one said 'straight to business'. He cleared his throat quickly and then said, "Am I right to assume that you received the news?"

He had been told that before his arrival a series of telegrams had been interchanged between DPUO and the Empire on the procurement of several of their newest main battle tanks. Ferth hoped that they had at least some clue on why he was here today, or else it would make his visit rather akward and he would have to spell out the entire thing today, and most likely postpone any agreement until these guys understood what exactly was going on. And so with that hope fermenting in the back of his head Ferth silently awaited the answer to that question, crossing his fingers that he would not have to start from scratch and that those blockheads back at Fedala had finally done something right.

The Macabees

31-05-2006, 22:01

Viusbi, Weigar
14th Arca Company, Teçois
Jest Hartíer drummed his fingers on his control panel as he awaited for the word to advance. For the past two weeks he had been on several missions, probing the Weigari line near Teçois, looking for weakpoints. Unfortunately, with every passing day the Weigar defenses seemed to be getting stronger, and satellite imagery had confirmed this. Official estimates put the Weigari Liberation Army back at 300,000 strong, which was immense. Intelligence also rumoured that they had begun conscription of every Weigari male that they could get their hands on, boasting of a future potential of over a million soldiers. It was literally possible, but Hartíer doubted that most Weigari civilians were that zealous about the liberation's cause, and now with Prince Heinrich of Dienstad safely in Fedala, their cassus belli was gone. It was now General Bietz' war. It was strange to study the new geopolitical situation, and how Weigar had no longer been the spotlight of the War of Golden Succession. With Heinrich in Fedala Weigar turned into a sideshow - it was nothing more than a rebellion now. The Havenic armies to the south had become the largest threat, and how Weigar was equated with Sarcanza - lost rebel causes. Bietz, of course, had been intent to turn this around and make Weigar the largest threat once again, but he was having troubles, and three hundred thousand men thus far was a very good claim for a general who was facing massive disertion rates.

Hartíer looked through his screens, witnessing new targets popping up and old ones dissapearing and he wished to himself that reconaissance sped up a bit more. They had learned their lessons from the first encounters around Teçois, and now they were making full use of their reconaissance, running laps around the village in their G11 scount vehicles. A fully updated map was keeping him informed of the dynamic situation, and an encrypted radio would give him the orders to move out. Near him was the rest of the company, about twelve tanks total, all of them Broadswords. The Viusbi front had four full strength armoured divisions, but Ruska had twenty-four, of which four were the new Cougars, and by next month there would be another eight. Sarcanza reserved one armoured division, all of the tanks being Cougars. According to recent intelligence the Weigari Liberation Army could make use of around five hundred remaining T-80UDs, old relics of the civil war, purchased when SD-60F production had become impossible. However, recent production had bolstered their armoured ranks by an estimated one thousand SD-60Fs, which put their total armoured levels to about half of what they had started out with in the beginning. An impressive record.

One could hear gunshots off in the distance and Hartíer looked through his commander's sight, taking a good view at the area around him. He could see a smoke trail in the distance and he patted his gunner's shoulder. The gunner had already started to traverse the turret, but it ended up being a fleeing G11. The reconaissance was over. Hartíer received the message to begin the operation soon thereafter and the entire company lurched foward. The company commander took the lead, with Hartíer right behind him, and the other ten tanks around them. Their orders were to enter Teçois carefully and clear it out of remaining SD-60Fs. They were supposed to have air support, but nothing of the sort had made a presence yet. Jest hurumphed. Like usual the Laerihans was doing nothing to support the limited offensive. Then he could hear the low scratch of turboprops, and he opened his hatch and looked out.

Four aircraft, flying rather low and rather slowly, made their way above them. He had never seen that type of aircraft before, but he had been filled in about them. They were the new GF-15 Valkyries, an automated UCAV designed as a tank buster carrying a powerful array of twelve Icycle minimissiles. They quietly closed the range with the village and about two thousand meters out peppered it with their full load of ordnance, equating to forty-eight of these minimissiles. They had most likely seen targets that Jest could not see from his current position, but he saw the missiles burst in mid-air, releasing dozens of submunitions each. These submunitions were explosively formed projectiles and they were sensor fused; they would look for their target and penetrate through the roof, killing the crew along with immobilising the tank. They were absolutely deadly! Of course, Jest could see nothing of the sort, but he saw brief flashes through the town and he could see the Valkyries turn around unhindered. He could hardly guess that those Valkyries had just reduced the number of SD-60Fs in the town by half, as well as knock out at least three T-80UDs.

14th Arca Company continued unabated, quickly making their way to the outskirts of Teçois. The company split into three squads of four tanks a piece, and then entered the town seperate. Jest was put in command of his own squad, and he entered through the east. He slapped his gunner's helmet and said through the radio, "You see anything, you kill it, got it?"

The response he got wasn't very promising. "Aye Mac, as long as they don't knock us out first." The gunner chuckled, but Jest didn't find the joke very funny.

He turned a corner, his 120mm L/44 smoothbore turning before him, and the sweat was already dropping from underneath his helmet. He looked around and saw nothing. Jeez, these Valkyries had done a damn good job. He overestimated it, however. As he turned, from behind him, a SD-60F jumped out from a covered tractor stall in one of the houses and Jest cursed to himself while yelling at his gunner to traverse the turret. "Turn, turn, turn!" He whispered, "Fuck," somewhere thereafter, and then he finally yelled out through the radio to the other tanks, "Scratch my back!" He was fortunate that he had good tankers in this company, and he felt a heat wave pass around his tank and heard a sharp clunk. Turning his commander's sight to see the SD-60F all he saw was a big hole in the rear side of the turret and a now fixed battle tank. It had been knocked out. Relief passed over him, and he had learned his lesson. Reaching again for the radio he ordered, "Fan out."

He suddenly realised just how bad of an idea this entire thing was. If there were infantry in this town the company had run right into a trap. Of course, he was absolutely correct. His Broadsword jumped and he realised they had just hit a mine. He was about to claim it as a dud until he heard a clunk and then realised his tread had been unhinged. Muttering, "Shit," he turned for his radio again and said, "I need you guys to scratch my back until we get this tread fixed." He got an affirmative over the radio, but it was too late - at least for his tank. He saw three dark figures start to climb over the turret, making clinking noises as they ran up it. A window above the house fluttered open, revealing a machine gun and a gunner who started to spray the corners with bullets to cover the approach of the Weigari infantry. Scared Jest screamed, "Close your hatches, we're being boarded!"

He didn't have time to see the sole man come out from another building, behind him, and slam a rocket propelled grenade into the small shell trap between the turret and the top of the rear of the hull. This penetrated the turret ring and unhinged the turret from the rest of the chassis, ripping apart the driver, and giving severe problems to the gunner and tank commander. Jest groaned and then patted his gunner, "Let's get the hell out of here. We have a better chance of surviving out there than in here." The gunner agreed. They both grabbed their Hali-42s and waited for the right moment to get out. The gunner had already traversed the turret high enough to put a round in the house right next to them, hosting the machinegun, and then they heard the boarerds slap their explosive packs onto the tank. Jest yelled, "Now!"

As the dark shapes began to jump off the tank, Jest opened his hatch and poked his head out, spraying the area around him with a hail of bullets from his assault rifle. With that he pulled himself out and began to look for targets. It was fairly obvious to him that he was probably the biggest target at that point, but he failed to care. He quickly made his way to cover - the entrance of a house nearby, and waited for one of his fellow tankers to come and rescue him and his gunner. That came soon, although it turned into a debacle, with the tank itself hitting another mine and him prodding the crew to leave their vehicle as quickly as possible. Now there were five men in the middle of Teçois, and a blown up tank and another Broad Sword as good as gone. This was truly a disaster. Yet another Broad Sword made its way, but this time stood beyond the other two of its compatriot tanks and the turret seemed rather confused. Nevertheless, the five men made a run for it and made it to the tank unscathed. After a brief chat with that tank commander Jest got that tank and the last tank of his squad out of Teçois without a further fight. It had seemed that the rest of the company had met similar fates, and only about five tanks left Teçois alive. If operations continued to go as badly they would need to postpone the Viusbi operation indefinately, it seemed.

Mons Dei, Weigar
Every single general officer that was on the Viusbi front had gathered at the army headquarters at Mons Dei to discuss the future of the front and the beginning of the major offensive in the area. Army General Deán Shar was at the head of the table, inside the rather large house, and directly around him where the major generals that commanded his divisions, and higher generals that were more relevant to the entire strategic situation. Deán Shar was a busy man, and so he wanted to get done with the meeting as quickly as possible. Clearing his throat, he managed to shut the crowd up and thus he began his orders, "In two days operation VALIANT will be launched in an attempt to break the Weigari army around Viusbi. Our goals are to crush the Weigari Army, thus returning it to maneagable levels and open the road to Weigar itself. Tactical objectives remain Viusbi as a railroad and highway hub. For this reason this front has been chosen to become active again. In other words, gentlemen, the Emperor wants Weigar punished."

He let this sink in, and he let the others ask questions, if they had any. When he saw that they didn't he continued, "Operations throughout the past weeks have pinpointed several weaknesses in our older tactics and strategies. The tank will not operate alone this time, and instead operate with infantry, clearing out village after village. This is no longer a conventional war. The Weigari Liberation Army has entrenched themselves in fixed fortifications inside these villages. We will have to route them out."

One of the generals interjected, "What about Fedor? Where has he gone?"

"His Imperial Majesty is busy," said Shar. "But he will lead the offensive for the first two weeks at least. Depending on what happens with the counterstroke at Mosnoi Bor he may leave for that front, or he may leave to see his wife. God knows he deserves it. In any case, we have defeated these people twice. It is now time to drive home the point that Bietz will not be victorious, no matter how many people he sends to their death. He has awoke the Fedalan bear, and he will feel the consequences."

The other generals muttered their agreement. It was set! The operation would begin in just two days! The generals continued to speak and argue about the upcoming Battle of Viusbi, but the most important things had been said. It seemed that Viusbi would be the swansong of the Weigari Liberation Army.

DontPissUsOff

01-06-2006, 20:24

Blackwood was aptly named indeed. Long before the great foundry had sprung up to match the demand of a nation hungry for steel, charcoal burners had felled its majestic trees, burning them to produce their black briquettes and lacing the air with an endless cloud of black fog as they did so. The charcoal burners might be long gone, but Blackwood’s darkened trees were still there, and still getting blacker every day in the shadow of the works. For half a mile around its dirty brick walls, nothing grew in the poisoned earth; the few trees that managed to eke out a meagre existence were stunted, dark and withered underneath endless clouds of choking smoke that poured from the works’ tall brick chimneys, to settle on any exposed surface within miles. The chimneys themselves, tapering steeple-like towards the sky as if in worship of the foundry’s eponymous god, were encrusted with a thick patina of discarded soot that no amount of scrubbing would remove; fortunately, nobody particularly felt inclined to climb up and make the attempt. Around half-way up each of the four soaring cylinders, emblazoned in thin, brilliant white that could be seen despite the thick glaze of deposited waste, shone a single word: “Prometheus”.

*****

He was late. There was a damn good reason for being late, this time, and he knew it; nonetheless, he did not at all like to keep such an important customer waiting. “He” was Suan Rukei, Director of the Prometheus Foundry, and that position did nothing to make him feel any better about being late. He straightened his tie, wiped the worst of the muck from his face (transferring it carefully to his jacket’s lining) and strode into the office, greeting his Macabee customer with an amiable but concerned smile that ceased entirely at his eyes, these being far too busy looking tired and irritable. It was as close as he could get to being polite at this time of day, especially when he had just had to spend thirty minutes assisting some poor young technician in repairing one of the works’ sixteen generator sets.

“My apologies for my lateness, Mr… err…” Rukei glanced at the note proffered by an aide, who informed him that the Macabee simply wanted to get down to business. “...Diesp. Slight situation involving a dead generator and a lack of personnel this morning. Nasty bug going round.” He ejected the man opposite Diesp’s chair and plonked himself in it, exhaling contentedly. “Now, my assistant here tells me you want to get straight to business. I gather from what I’ve been informed by the exalted ones on high that you need over two thousand tanks, and you’re asking for eight hundred per month to be produced, most of which you will probably convert to match your own needs. This is to supplement your ‘decidedly depleted tank forces’ in preparation for an anticipated move by the other side, whoever they might be. Am I correct?”

Rukei paused, looking straight into the eye of his customer and betraying no pity or sympathy for the plight of a nation forced to buy in machines from anywhere and everywhere in order to stave off defeat for the simple reason that he had none. He wouldn’t care one bit if the Macabees now fighting for their nation’s existence were wiped out to a man; indeed, he wouldn’t object in the slightest if a representative of the opposition came along and bought some more tanks, so long as the company made money. His obligation was not to some foreign soldiers in a distant land of which he knew nothing, but to the thousands of men who worked in the glowing, sizzling hell that was the Foundry; the heavy “crump” of the busy steam-hammers reminded him of it every moment in their shaking of the lightly-built steel of the small site office.

Independent Hitmen

02-06-2006, 01:10

IHS New London, New England Class Fleet Carrier
Now with the Stevid Task Force

Vice-Admiral Longworth was in theory a deputy commander to the Stevid Fleet Admiral in command. His instructions from Fleet Command at Gillen added to that sense of inferiority that he so detested, however he would obey his orders. Being under the command of a women would be a new experience for him, very few women joined the Navy and those that did often requested desk jobs after seeing the reality of life onboard an IH ship. Keeping one hundred men off of four girls on a frigate also proved to be problematic, several sailors being charged with indecent behaviour during the early period of women on aboard ships of war.

But Jake Longworth had an open mind. In a few minutes an SH-60 would take him to the Malleus to confer with Admiral Scot and to plot a strategy for the coming battles against the Geneticon Fleet, as long as they caught it that was. A quick glance at his own radar screen showed hundreds of plots on the surface scan and nearly one hundred more on the air search. The IH Barrier Carrier Air Patrol (BARCAP) was up in strength, five E-2CI’s radiating electronic waves around the formation with two dozen F-22S Sea Raptors in close formation, their AAM-3’s all armed and in standby mode. They had a rough idea of where the enemy were but they weren’t being paid to be lapse, the lessons of long range strikes had been learnt at the First Battle of Otium Aqua. In this battle they would get in the first strike, and a deadly strike it would have to be too.

The two Prince of Wales Class SuperDreadnoughts each had 4000VLS cells onboard them as well as 25 27.1” guns each. They were loaded for the most part with AS-1M’s or AS-1LM’s for anti ship warfare. SAM defence for the two behemoths was being provided by the AEGIS cruisers that accompanied the group as well as the Stevid dedicated AA vessels that covered the formation as a whole. However it had been decided now that the Duke of York would return to Stevid to aid the 7th Fleet. Before the linkup was complete she moved back off north with a pair of missile cruisers and some ASW escorts to retrace her steps. It would be a long journey for the huge ship but they hoped it would be worth it, the gamble that the other surface forces wouldn’t attempt anything whilst the main Stevid Fleet crushed the Geneticon splinter force looked to have failed. But so was the risk with a gamble, the IH carriers carried on heading SouthWest now fully integrated with the Stevid Force.

From the front of New London a pair of F-22S Sea Raptors shot into the air from two of the seven catapults. Five more F-22S’s sat ready to be launched should enemy aircraft be sighted. Given ten minutes warning there would be a full two hundred fighters up in the air and another ten minutes would see the entire carrier complements in flight.

Sunderland Port, Stevid

The Capital vessels of the IH 7th Fleet streamed out of the harbour under the cover of the numerous escorts that had arrived with them some four days earlier. Twelve carriers and four battleships along with a single Dreadnought sailed that day and formed up with the escorts in one large group.

It was a direct response to the satellite imagery that showed the entire Spizanian Fleet leaving their port where they had been for much of the conflict. They had gotten about two hours on the IH fleet whilst the imagery was being corroborated from other sources, the tampering of satellites by Kreig earlier in the conflict meant that they needed two showing the same image before major actions such as this were undertaken.

They didn’t know where the enemy force would be heading, or even if it would be heading towards Stevid and the Otium Aqua. What they did know was that the Spizanian force was quite intimidating, the 5th Fleet could match its airpower but not its guns until Duke of York arrived back. So they would take the lesson of the First Battleof Otium Aqua and apply it. If conflict came then the force would be kept at a large distance allowing air combat to occur but not allowing capital ships to come within range of each other. A minimum distance of 800km would be kept between the outlying parts of each fleet by the IH commanders, their fast ships hopefully allowing them to prevent the Spizanians from moving too close to their fleet. But if they wanted to come play in the Otium Aqua they were welcome to. Land based bombers were all within striking distance and so were many tactical fighters and fighter bombers. If the enemy did come they would be met with a hail of missiles that they could not possibly hope to stop, but if they didn’t come to the Otium Aqua the IH commanders were wary to chase them too far outside of landbased aircover. Caution was not a trait that they exhibited willingly, but they knew that the only reason that the First Battle had been considered a success was because they still possessed the sea when it was over, materially they had lost and they had no desire to repeat it.

On the bridge of one of the two New England Class carriers, New Sussex, Fleet Admiral Evans considered his task. His fleet was not quite up to full operational strength, a two carrier group was down south policing the Army’s supply lanes into Haven and another carrier was in dry dock at Gillen having a screw speedily replaced. They knew that a formidable force was facing them including 6 carriers of various origins, classified by satellites whilst they steamed in circles in Macabeean territorial waters as well as a single SuperDreadnought and at least three of the dangerous Argentine Galleons. All packed quite a punch, especially the Argentines if they somehow managed to get within range.

Evans looked down at the deck as an F/A-18 was catapulted off the front of the ship, its wings laden with missiles and underwing fuel tanks. Behind the catapult several more waited, signalling the first BARCAP that was going up from the carrier herself. Further up in the sky several land based Air Force E-3F Sentry AWAC’s aircraft were orbiting along with a collection of land based F-15 and F-16 fighters. They were providing cover for the group as it formed up and got itself into proper fighting shape.

The crews were all familiar with their weapons and equipment, having trained on it for years. There were some combat veterans onboard the ships, the majority of the pilots and weapons operators having taken part in action over the Acre Union during their abortive attempt to fight the now dead Ottoman Alliance. The equipment itself, whilst not state of the art was nonetheless deadly and fully functional, onboard ships any small problem was quickly located and fixed during the many diagnostics and simulations that were constantly being run. Drills ranging from close in bombing runs to long range missile launches were played out in the various CIC’s as the Captains on the bridge’s of the vessels positioned them where they should be.

For now this was an entirely IHN affair. Fleet Admiral Evans had complete command of his units, unlike Longworth who was nominally under his superior Stevidian officer. There had been no qualms about ranks up until now and they didn’t expect any to appear, both nations respected the men and women from the others as being consummate professionals and worthy of their respect.

SafeHaven2, about 250km from the front

The men of the 9th Armoured Cavalry turned their vehicles off the main road and slid slowly into a small field adjacent to it to set up their camp. They would be stopping here for two days for maintenance before they went into the main line, echoes from which they thought they could hear when the wind was blowing in the right way.

As soon as the vehicles came to a halt the men dismounted and began preparing the position. Some slit trenches were quickly dug in case of air attack and a battery of short range mobile SAM’s set up around the small camp. When this was completed the men took time to eat a couple of MRE packs before doing the normal light maintenance required for a Main Battle Tank or Cavalry Scout Vehicle. As Darkness fell the sentries were changed over, the new men bringing their personal NightVision sets with them along with the XM-8 Carbine common to vehicle crews. Others lay down to sleep, sure that they would need to stockpile it over the next two days.

Further back down the road the trailing Divisions did similar preparations in their Battalion camps. The heavy maintenance crews were level with them so the tasks began quicker than they would for the lead scouts. Fuel browsers stopped off by each of the parked and camouflaged vehicles to top up their fuel tanks whilst sub-commanders talked amongst themselves. With the Stevid forces now on their left flank and advancing towards the front, it looked like before the week was over they would be seeing modern warfare at its cruellest.

High above them, other Hitmen were getting straight into the action. Beginning two hours after local twilight, 48 F-15C’s and 12 F-15E’s began rising from their airfield under the direction of a pair of E-3F AWAC’s far to the rear.

The two –C squadrons, the 398th and 399th Interceptors, climbed quickly despite the heavy armament they carried. Pilots had their nightvision systems fully activated and working as well as taking the feed from the AWAC’s, the large radar in the nose of the aircraft were turned off for the while. No point in alerting the enemy that there were Eagles up tonight.

Under direction from the AWAC’s a four plane element turned North towards the frontline. In the distance the pilots could see flashes on the horizon as unknown artillery duelled with each other and lives were extinguished with frightening ease.

Down below them the 12 F-15E’s went to their maximum cruising speed and took a shallow dive down to 1000feet. The other Eagles were there to distract the enemy fighters and the flight path of the Strike Eagles took them through a thinner part of the dense SAM picket line that was known to be common throughout the Macabeean side of the line. The pilots silently hoped that the Havenite SAM’s had gotten the word about their IFF sensors as they continued on.

Tonight the Strike Eagles were targeting a forward fuel dump about 12miles behind the frontline. Hanging from the airframes were 4 HARM-5 anti-radar missiles, designed to track in on SAM battery tracking and acquisition radars, two AAM-3’s and four Mk.20 Rockeye cluster bomb dispensers. The Eagles above them had 8 AAM-3L’s and a pair of AIM-120X AMRAMM’s incase the fighting got closer. The new version of the standard IH Air to Air Missile was being tested tonight in a combat environment. The tests in the two months proceeding had shown it to have a range equivalent to the Macabeean counterpart; however its accuracy still needed some working on. Either way it provided the much needed morale boost for the aviators who as yet had no match to being outranged.

Questers

02-06-2006, 02:02

Doggerham Hunting Site, as the Conflict Starts

The shot from the 12 bore dual barreled shotgun rang out and suddenly the cry from the rabbit echoed through the day. Smoke drifted from the brown-clad royal standing over the body of the animal.

'I say William! Excellent shot old boy!'

Another voice emerged from the distance and out approached another royal, this time considerably more jovial. His short and stout figure clashed with the first, Prince William, who was tall and lanky.

'Thank you, Richard.'

The two Royals stood there over the body of the rabbit, which was slowly bleeding its organs open in the mud of Doggerham Wood. They didn't speak for a while, until William lit up an extremely fine and expensive cigarette, offering one to Richard.

'William, you know I don't smoke.' Richard looked offended at this offering.

'Mhm. That's what you say in front of Clara. Yeah, I know. There's something more important though. That twat? Fedor, you remember him?'

Richard looked up into the canopy of the forest, and another bird whipped out from the branches and flew off. It had timed its flight right, as both men stood their with their guns unlocked over their arms. Lucky bird. Not so lucky rabbit.

'Yes, I think I do. He's the Macabean King isn't he?'

'Well, yes. Except, he isn't the King. Not really.'

'He's Clara's cousin though, isn't he?' Richard reasoned. The Macabean and Questarian Royal families were linked, as where the Questarian and Praetonian.

'I should have had this throne, you know.' William ignored Richard's previous question, flicking the cigarette onto the ground and extinguishing it forever with his boot. Rubbing all life out into the mud and the leaves of Doggerham Forest. 'If my bloody idiot of a Father hadn't have gone and got himself killed, I would have had it too. Who cares if the people 'love' Clara more. She is weak. But we still have power too. And we can get it somewhere else as well. This Fedor fellow, he's going to have a war. With some idiot we don't know. Some Havenite moron, I recall. Well, we'll turn this nation around. If we play our cards right, we can get peerages in Macabees too... And then, I - we - can become Kings. True Kings.'

Richard was lost. But William was revelling in his plan.

'Do you want that rabbit?'

'Nah.' William kicked it into the bush to gurgle out its last breaths. He was always a cold one. 'Come, brother. We have planning to do.'

~

Over the following months, as the conflict unfolded, using a clever plan beginning with snide 'accidental' comments, and then leading to larger newspaper comments, William managed to turn public train of thought around completely. At first they thought of the war as some distant thing that only affected Questers in its arms manufacturing industry, as it sold ships aplenty to both Spizania and Indepedent Hitmen. Questarian businessmen were roaring with delight as the profits just upped, and upped, and upped. As usual, the UK was making a nice little profit out of a bloody conflict it had no part in. But all that was about to change. It's surprising in a modern democracy how much power a monarchy really has - even the Princes and the Dukes. As such, political power in Questers was slowly beginning to turn in favour of a war. That was a ridiculous notion at first, but the more and more it 'slipped out' of the Prince's mouth, the more and more sensical it seemed. To the really big businessmen, those with a propre knowledge of economics, it didn't seem such a good idea. But then again, Prince William - the Prince of Wales, wasnot one to argue with. IN fact, it was generally a really bad idea to argue with him, because in this day and age he could have anyone he liked locked up for 'treason.' The Prince himself was the opposite to the Queen. Where the Queen was kind, forgiving, emotional, the Prince was hard, cold, and his heart was made of coal. Well, biologically that was an impossibility, of course. But it seemed it could be true. He was a real stooge.

And so, it came up until this hour for action to be possible. A nation like Questers doesn't go long without some form of conflict - it inspires the people, it inspires patriotism, and it inspires thme not to rebel against the establishment. The government knwos this; the lords know this; even the monarch knows this. Even the middle class know this. But they're all horribly outnumbered by the working class, who love their football, their flagwaving, and their battleships. And most importantly, they love their so called 'freedom.' With enough persuasion, every voting man in Questers would suppor the Prince, his ideas of 'freedom', and his plan to intervene in Greater Dienstad. After all, the more places the flag flew, the happier the populace. This is a nice little equation to sum up Questers. The education system, by law, is required to instill patriotism at an early age. If thi sis not done, then it is done by the parents, anyway. If a Questarian child is asked 'What is the greatest country on Earth? What is the most civilised? The richest? The most powerful?' It's obvious what he would answer. Free speech is held dear, yes, but the government can't stop the majority from lashing out against a pacific, environmentalist minority, can it? That's violating free speech. Interestingly enough, the government is telling this majority what to think. It's just giving it the freedom not to listen to that. Isn't democracy great?

Anyway, the Prince chose an interesting way of doing things, if not slightly logical, considering the political temperature of the United Kingdom. He persuaded the people first - then the government must follow. If the Monarch, or a member of the royal family, tells the people something, it becomes gospel truth, and therefore the government cannot deny it. If the government dared to deny something that a royal had denied, well.. it wouldn't be pretty for the government. Laws stopping a Monarch from refusing to sign a bill existed, but the Royals still had their way of mantaining power over the government. No, Questers wasn't a republic yet. It was still good old colonialist, and now it was targeting the Macabees. Questers had always been ambitious, but now its ambitions were growing. If anyone got in the way? They'd have to deal with the Royal Navy. Within time, the Prince had managed to persuade the people that Fedor was evil - and his next target was Questers. He had to be removed, at all costs. Even if it meant widespread deployments. Which it did, who would have guessed?

~

'You're the boy of the house now, lad.' Bill Marriot kneeled down ruffled his little childs hair. God damnit, he had a wife, two beautiful children, a house, and a good car, and he was about to go to war. Oh well. He'd read the papers. He'd seen the TV adverts. He'd heard the Prince talk. All that stood in the way of that evil bastard Fedor was the Haven Pact - and then, it was Questers turn. He'd rather die than watch his country, and just as importantly, his family, burn under the flag of The Macabees.

'Yeah Dad!' the little boy, Mark, wrapped his arms around his dad tightly and hugged. His little daughter, Mary, joined in, snuggling his chest, and tears began to stream down Mark's face. Tears turned into sobs and somehow this great gunnery officer, used to handling the vibrations and noises from 27.1 guns, was crying and sobbing his eyes out.

'Whats wrong dad?' His kids looked up at him with great beaming eyes. They were proud of their dad. Every day at school at show and tell they'd tell the class how their daddy was going off to fight. Fight for a war that wasn't about national survival, or money, or freedom or liberty. It wasn't about pride either. It was about power. Power, power, and more power. Right from the top.

'Nothing lad.' His dad wiped his tears away. 'It's nothing. Before I go, will you promise to remember one thing for me?'

'Sure dad!'

'Remember Son, freedom is not free. Not true freedom.'

He kissed his two kids and looked up to his wife. 'Please, Bill, don't go.' she looked him in the eyes.

'Susan.. I can't. I mean, I have to. My country is calling for me.' He looked her back in the eyes. His huge, brown eyes. They were peaceful eyes. Gentle. If you met Bill on the street, you'd be sure he'd never hurt a fly. But he had a warlike profession.

'Fuck your country.' Tears were streaming down her eyes now. 'Stay here with us.' She looked at him desperately. 'Please?'

It was tearing him apart. It was downright cruel, she knew, but she loved him. She didn't want him to die. 'I can't. I love you, Su.' he kissed her deeply on the lips, and waving goodbye to her and his kids, dashed out of the house. He was almost late for the bus.

~

'Ah, Mr Marriot! Good to see you're hear.' The Captain nodded to Bill as he stepped aboard the Renown, last aboard.

'Just look at it, Mister Marriot.' The Captain nodded and saluted to the dock crew who began to take away the entrance gantry, and the Captain showed Bill over the dock.

'Just look at it.'

Bill gasped as he looked over the docks of Portsmouth. 'My god.'

One thousand ships, extending into one great line out into the twilight, smoke from two thousand funnels puffing out and slowly dissolving into the night sky. Three full battlegroups of the Royal Navy. In the distance, just on the Horizon, he could spot the Hood, the newest incarnation of that mighty ship, one giant refit, leading the convoy, steam pouring out of her funnels. Submarines, frigates, cruisers, aircraft carriers.

The Captain grinned. 'Mister Marriot, welcome to Operation Longbow.'

Mekugi

02-06-2006, 14:27

[mini post to keep things moving]

Ruska Province, Car’Tul-

Exactly 80km South, South-East of Fedala sat a dusty little border town of Car’Tul overlooked by most Cartographers was the forgivably ignorable farming town, containing little more than a general store and hundreds and hundreds of square miles of farm land south of the prosperous capital. This of course did not grant the sleepy town any reprieve from the conflict that had consumed their nation.

Gears whined and roads shook as a column on Mekugian armor vehicles rumbled slowly down the road in the dead of night, their air defense vehicles leap-frogging the convoy they were protecting as they moved down the road. The group of vehicles was several miles long at this point the entire 9th Special Artillery Corps its 500 batteries and its organically attached 27th Air Defense Brigade, though the sights of the massive CTEL (Combined Transport Erector/Launcher ) vehicles was impressive, its what could not be seen that was the fearsome truth that rode into town that day. In each of the 1500 launcher vehicles each carried two TSSM-4 (Tactical Surface to Surface Missile- Model 4) a terribly uncreative term for such a large and effective bringer of death. Though ballistic in their first stage the second stage was maneuverable and carried its won set of countermeasures to ensure its safe arrival at its target. This of course was moot beyond the fact that it allowed the large but relatively light missile to deliver a 750kg ONC warhead to over 500km, and now at Car’Tul it was within range to strike at the Entire Havenite front and as far away as San Mendez as well.. Or whatever was left.

The chain of vehicles snakes its way down country roads to what was quite literally open plains lands and there once driven to their position respective the they erected their camouflage nets and laid in wait it was not quite time for their role in this grand play.

Kora Inlet, The Armed Democratic Republic of Mekugi-

Despite the natural beauty of the massive glacier carved deep water inlet, Kora was stuffed to the brim with every conceivable piece of military hardware in the Mekugian arsenal. Nine Epion class Siege Dreadnaughts filled the entire slipway along one side of the 8 mile long inlet, with Eighteen Oberon Class Fleet Carriers taking up the other side of the inlet, the physical mass in the space between filled with hulls of all shapes and sizes though it had taken several months to assemble the fleet to any useable size it still had a very long trip ahead of it. As the picket ships and fleet axillaries made their way out of the inlet in order to open up slipway room Siege dreadnaughts and Carriers made room for LST’s and LHT’s the docks around the Inlet almost seemed to change color, from the blue uniforms of the navy to a flood of green as whole divisions of men and vehicles began to line up for boarding on the docks, Mekugi may have held back in the opening of the war but now they would make things right.

Stevid

02-06-2006, 17:46

Conberth Harbour, Admiralty, Rubet Island

The Admiralty building at Portsmouth had been damaged to such an extent it was almost unrecognisable. The nuclear attacks the enemy had performed on HMNB Portsmouth had shown just how venerable Stevid was to an attack so close to home, even though the Royal Navy had secured the Otium Aqua Sea with aid from allied Hitmen fleets. The full extent of the damage could now be seen by all eyes, nuclear fallout was in such negligible proportions that it was almost safe to touch the lifeless, beached wreck of the Catholic Class super dreadnought that was struck down by the blasts. The Admiralty building had been so badly damaged that the HQ for the Navy was moved to the second biggest naval port in Stevid, Conberth Harbour.

Despite the solemn mood in the Admiralty, everyone seemed in high spirits today and with good reason. It was becoming clear to the military and the government that the recent naval victories meant that the navy was running out of fleets to send around saving the region. The Fifth fleet was now almost totally destroyed and only the forth fleet remained in harbour to defend the homeland and the Empire from hostile threat. Supplies were not short, neutral Adaptus Astrates was constantly supplying oil all around the globe but now had a lot of interest from Stevid. Despite luxury amounts of supplies for the ships, the amount of ships was becoming a larger concern. However, this was about to change.

For many years Stevid, and some of the larger nations, had boasting a supreme navy. The Royal Navy was the largest British orientated Navy in the region belonging to Stevid and had a long and illustrious reputation of being a definitely dangerous force to behold and to challenge. Now, another navy was entering the naval theatre of war. Another Navy also called the Royal Navy that also followed similar doctrines to the British Navy. Questers had joined the Havenic Pact side, much to the relief of the Stevid Admiralty, and had brought along their massive and well-respected ships. Stevid had yet to equal the Hood Class before the Renown appeared and so Stevid and her allies had a new and dangerous friend on their side.

The Admirals and First Sea Lord were gathered in the conference room. They had been talking about the new RN that had joined their side but as yet no information on where they were heading for.

“I’m sure we can all agree that their Royal Navy will find Stevid to be an excellent home for their ships if they need supplying and re-crewing.” said an elderly Admiral with a smile on his face.

Everyone nodded in agreement.
“I totally agree sir.” Said First Sea Lord Admiral Sir Alan West. “Our nations are very similar and I’m sure they’d welcome the hospitality that we are more than willing to give them. Also we need to inform the entire active fleets out at sea. They won’t know of this great development especially the task force we sent to crush Oceanairia’s naval battle group.”

“Fleet Admiral Hanna Scot? She’s crap.”

“She’s hot.” A Captain accidentally blurted out. “My apology’s sirs.”

Everyone stared him into submission for a few seconds before returning to the Sea Lord for a response to the Admiral’s remark.

“She is good enough to send into battle, I want her and all the other fleet commanders out at sea informed of the arrival of around one thousand ships bearing an allied flag. Dismissed. And Captain Harry James, try and contain your feelings next time.”

The room chuckled as the captain’s face turned red. They all picked up their papers and left the room with very high spirits. This war might turn out for the better for Stevid. Now they had a real naval force combination, the Stevidian Royal Navy, the Independent Hitmen Navy and the Ouestarian Royal Navy would soon make the whole Otium Aqua region free of enemy forces for good.

HMS Malleus, Stevidian Task Force

The task force was moving slowly now along with their IH reinforcements. The Defiler Class Command cruiser had been shadowing the enemy fleet for almost a day now and transmitting course instructions to the rest of the fleet to intercept. Oceanairia was late, perhaps they had bottled out, and whatever they were doing the tracking satellites, AWAC planes and allied equipment were constantly feeding data into the eight huge super computers on the command cruiser. The crews were getting restless as well, the drilling and preparations were becoming a drag. It was denting crew performance, on the contrary it was making the task force more prepared for an attack. But it was hellishly boring.

This hit the HMS Malleus hard. Such a huge ship could not participate well in fleet manoeuvres and it was difficult to arrange for the whole ship to effectively participate in a ship wide drill without numbing ship performance. Admiral Scot was doing her best to keep morale up and so were her accomplice officers all over the ship.
She sighed quietly, she never knew that looking after a massive crew like this could be so mentally draining. She had received a lot of stick from her fellow Admirals for being too young and inexperienced to lend a ship of this size and co-ordinate a fleet this huge, now it was beginning to sink in. Screw the crews morale, her self-esteem and confidence on a whole was being battered already.

“Ma’am! Message for you from the Admiralty!” yelled the Comms officer.

She got up out of her chair and walked over to the printer that had decoded the message to her.

Fleet Admiral Scot. Questers has joined the war on the Havenic Pact side. You are hereby ordered not to open fire on any shipping bearing the Ouestarian white Ensign or their national colours. Ships in allied fleet number approximately one thousand and will be entering the Otium Aqua and Macabee theatres of war. Await further orders and await arrival of enemy shipping. Inform us when you have engaged the enemy.

The Macabees

02-06-2006, 19:36

Prometheus Foundry, Blackwood, DPUO
Ferth nodded as Suan Rukei finished his greeting. Ferth's white military uniform was already tinting black due to the muck thrown around in the factory, but he was used to this. On any other occasion in a Kriegzimmer factory he would have worn civilian clothing, but this mission was far more important. He studied the other man, and compared this to intelligence reports he had read prevvy to his arrival, and he decided that these men were no different from those at Kriegzimmer. Their business, he assumed, was to make money, no matter how many lives were lost in the process. Ferth couldn't object, it was the same policy Kriegzimmer held until Harbinger, that demon of a man, died. In the end, Ferth, nor the rest of the Empire, really cared as long as they got their tanks. When Suan completed his last sentence Ferth abruptly ended his nodding and worked through the papers in the manila folder infront of him. "Yes, that would be correct," he replied. He looked away, and then back, "And these shipments would last five months exactly, meaning around four thousand tanks total shipped by November of this year. If more armour is needed by that time I will come to renew the contract."

The lieutenant general somehow doubted that. They were ordering eighteen thousand vintage pieces from the Juumanistran warehouses already, which meant that by September the Empire's armoured force would more than double to around forty thousand main battle tanks. Of course, later subtracting the ones which were knocked out during battle. But this was an impressive rise in numbers over a period of no more than two to three months. At least, impressive on paper. In reality nobody knew how these UT-1s and older Juumanistran tanks would fare against the more modern KAF-90s. Numbers have a quality of their own, mused Ferth. There was also rumours that Fedala was ready to raid warehouses which had stockpiled older tanks ready to be shreded for scrap, which in other words were pre-1970 tanks from the Great Civil War. The common perception, even by those who promoted the idea, was that these would be knocked out by the dozens, but that ended up being a cheaper and more rewarding method of getting rid of them. And the six billion and more population of the Empire could more than handle the lost tankers - that was no question.

Ferth brought himself back to the issue at hand and continued, "Furthermore, I guarantee that your sale here today will have no political backlash. In other words, no economic or martial harm will come to your nation. "

Ferth didn't tell him that this would more than reward DPUO. The only other nation that seemed to care about the Empire in this region of the world was Mekugi, and they had dumped millions of dollars worth of supplies into the war, even positioning a fleet and ground units to move south as quickly as possible. There was no doubt in his mind that Mekugian capital investment in DPUO would grow exponentially when it became public that DPUO was arming the Golden Throne. Not to mention it would explore larger channels of trade to previously uncharted mercantile country - at least in DPUO's perspective. But Fers supposed that the other man knew this, and so kept his mouth shut about the enticing secondary effects of the sale.

Keeping some of his etiquette he offered some compliments, "You've got quite a factory here. I've not seen something of this scale out of Kriegzimmer. It's very, very impressive Mr. Rukei. I now know why Fedala chose this factory specifically for some foreign investment." He smiled as he finished that, trying to make it genuine - which he succeeded in, at least he thought so.

Skibereen

03-06-2006, 00:49

CHING SHIH NAVAL BASE, TRALEE BAY, CITY OF HAMAR, TARA ISLAND SKIBEREEN

The second half of the Skibereenian task force departed from Ching Shih naval base in the bay of Tralee on one of the main Islands of Skibereen.

This was the considered the action arm of the two task forces, the first was merely considered ‘bad intention’ the latter was considered ‘effect’.

From Tralee Bay chugged three Revelation Class Large Battleships and three Genesis Class Large Battleships they were the flagships of the ‘Ching Shih’ task force.

The SNS-Dawn (of Raven Task force) was of course the Fleet Flagship of the Skibereenian Navy and would certainly not have that position challenged by the smaller vessels, it remained that the six battleships made for a formidable force on the open seas.

Along the banks of Tralee Bay were literally thousands of Skibereenians who had come to watch the line of ships pass as they made way to link with Raven Task Force as they bore themselves north.

Children screamed with joy at the sight of the massive battleships, it is nothing in Skibereen to see planes, tanks, guns or soldiers …but the massive ships of the line were something that had never existed in Skibereen’s history.

Old men saluted the vessels as they passed with fists to chests, or hands over eyes, many men covered their faces with scarves (this was a salute of the Black Eye faction) this was a tradition well over a century old, the covered face was a sign the men were prepared to kill, not just fight.

Men and women alike fired rifles in the air it was as if a festival was taking place; of course, most things in Skibereen seemed like a festival….it was the nature of the people.

As the Six battleships left the natural harbor of Tralee Bay the guns raised in Salute they fired a volley of low range rounds into the surrounding sea to return the well wishes of the people of Skibereen.

Along with the Battleships of Tralee came as impressive an array as Skibereen could offer;
Nineteen Pariacaca CVN
Nineteen Firestorm CGN
Thirty-four Afido Cruisers
Eighty Zeta Class DD-Z
Eighty Vigilancia Class DD-X
Ninty-five Lobo Del Mar Class Frigate FF/FFG
Eighty Asesino Class Arsenal Ship
Forty Avispa Assault Ships
Forty WarriorII Class Assault Ship
Forty Cockroach Class LST

Beneath the waves of the Ching Shih Task Force Group moved sixty Mar Scorpion Class SSN and an additional eighteen Vampire SSGN/SSN, the massive fleet linked with the Raven Task Force Group three hundred kilometers due west of Tralee.

The two task forces formed the first Skibereenian fleet put to see in over seventeen years of any type for any type of aggressive action.

RAVEN TASK FORCE GROUP
Aboard the SNS-Dawn Flagship of the Skibereenian Navy Quester Hood Class Battleship.

Admiral Umbido read the flash traffic from Raven Base then he looked across the bridge at the man in the foreign uniform.

The young Royal Navy officer had received a comfortable position aboard the Skibereenian Hood as the assigned RN officer.

Now Questers had entered made a move and declared at least to some degree a position in contra to that of the Skibereenian Government.

Admiral Umbido and the other officers had grown fond of the young man, as Questers held a high naval tradition his obvious love of the sea and of all things Naval made the man inspiring to have aboard.

Unfortunately, those things made no difference at this moment, luckily he had not been ordered to kill him….

Umbido spoke in the bastardized dialect of Swahili and Gaelic that was used among Skibereenian blacks for the last two hundred years….
His XO did not look at the RN officer he merely turned and spoke into the Com, again in the same dialect.

The XO had however unstrapped his sidearm, as had the Admiral at this point…the XO’s sidearm was a pistol the Admiral’s a machete.

Several other Black officers on the deck seemed to stiffen, the white Skibereenians had no idea what was going on….but that also was not important.

The Admiral looked to the RN officer “William, I have a request?”

The young man looked to the Admiral with a salute and snap to attention then back at ease protocols…”Yes Admiral Umbido, what can I do for you?”

“I would appreciate it if you would realize this is not personal.
I have just received a message indicating that your government may be siding with Safe Haven. Therefore, I must at this point for the security of the vessel and the mission ask you to give over your side arm, and give your self over to be placed into protective custody until the situation is resolved.

I don’t want this to go unprofessionally, you are a naval officer and there is no honor in being gunned down on this bridge.”

Admiral Umbido did like the young man and actual did not believe he would actively cause harm to the vessel but there may exist some directive, which might demand it. He knew the man would not dismiss RN Orders unless a reasonable amount of force was afforded to give him the ability to suggest coercion for his superiors and for his own sense of loyalty, luckily, the man was a Naval Officer and not a Marine or this might turn into a fight to the death.

The young man however did what any Naval Officer would do who was a clear thinking and prudent man as he was, he handed over his weapon.

“Nothing personal Admiral I do understand.”

As the man handed over the weapon four Marines came on to the bridge all were black and large.

“William these men will be your escorts to your new quarters, not the brig as you are not a prisoner. Simply we must assume that your personal effects may contain a threat.
I do not wish to authorize the search of your property as of yet, so new quarters will be assigned among the Marines, you may remain on the bridge and fulfill your duties for so long as they do not directly interfere with our mission.

William, if this does go bad…
Please do not attempt anything fool hearted, as the men will kill you.
You have some familiarity with our treatment of prisoners should this escalate that status and you will be perfectly safe until the conclusion of any conflict.

You have my word.”
Umbido’s word was fairly powerful given only two other men had more power then him in the Skibereenian Navy and only perhaps a half dozen had more power in the whole of Skibereen itself.

OOC: Short post I have much to do figured I would get this out of hte way...will post again tonight with better one.

Geneticon

03-06-2006, 11:28

Northwest Tip of Tir, Ocean
Oceanaria Fleet
Union Class Carrier Imperious

"SIR!!! We have a radar visual on the Stevidian fleet!" Jimmy said, running up. Fredrick coughed slighlty as he heard the news. The weather had been particuarly good, but a mechanical problem on the Imperious had slowed the fleet to almost a standstill on the way around Tir. Now she was full operational, and her radar showed a Stevidian fleet which was just about as large as Battlegroup 17.

Natalie looked unphased by the news. "Looks like we'll need that Macabeean convoy sooner than we thought. Looks like we're at a pretty decent range right now. There's no way they could hit us from here. At over 700 klicks? I doubt it." She smiled. "Send the aircraft and submarines, that should keep them busy."

Fredrick caught her idea and smiled himself, "That's it. Jimmy, send the subs ahead and tell them to fire when in range. Send up some Sea Fury's and Schimitars."

Jimmy whooped, "Yes sir!"

As the three took their seats once more, the fighter left the deck and cruised toward the fleet.

Northwestern Tip of Tir
Onboard Schimitar Fighter

"Allright, looks like we're clear, form up boys." The total of 27 fighters formed up on the leader, Cap. Phillip Nelson. "Radar looks clear besides those ships. I don't see any CAP. It may give us an advatange, and you boys can drop your payloads and get on home."

The planes climbed to 55,000 ft. before coming to a level out. They crusied at over Mach 1.3, and kept an eye on those radars for enemies. "no sign of them yet sir."

"Keep your shirt on, we don't know where those Stevidians could show up." Drop the bombs, get back to the ship, get home. Home. My family...

War was a horrible thing which caused horrible things. Phillip smiled, the President would call it an idea. "All right boys, keep an eye on the sky and don't get cocky."

Northwestern Tip of Tir
Hunter Class Submarine Erruptable

Captain Gregory Banner stood within the compounds of the control station. It seemed that the enemy had been a little closer than the Admiral had expteced, so now Greg and his task force would be sent to go deal with the enemy. 4 Hunters, 8 Navarres ought to do it. The 12 subs moved in a smooth motion in perfect line. They would deal with a small part of the threat and then evade before being detected. The art of submarine warfare.

Greg grimaced. "If only we had some nuclear torpedoes."

Right now, what they needed more was luck. If they could move in close enough to fire their arsenal without being detected, there was a fantastic chance that they would be able to get away unscathed.

The submarines moved closer to their targets.

"How fun..."

______________________________________________________________

OOC: Sorry... that's all I could post for now. You may want to post your discovery of my fleet and your actions Stevid. I'm guessing a little airwar would be fun. I'll come up for a name of the battle and then we can fight it. My fleet overall should be out of range right now, but you may have a little skirmish with the subs, depends on how advanced you can pick them up.

I'm out for the weekend, be back early next week I pray.

Independent Hitmen

03-06-2006, 12:57

IHS New London, With the Stevidian Fleet

“Admiral Sir. Eagle Ten reports we have bandits coming up to play.”

“Current strength?”

“Currently twenty but more are appearing. Cannot classify yet, range is 500klicks speed approximately Mach 1.2.”

Jake had a decision to make. Should he launch his aircraft now to repel the enemy attacks, or was this merely a diversion designed to not allow him strike at them for a little while longer. He looked at the Carrier Air Group Commander who sat near him in the CIC of the huge carrier.

“John, thoughts?”

“Put up our Group, leave the rest on the decks for now but on +5. Get the -18s configured for a strike and have the -22’s in full fighter guise.”

“Sounds like a plan. Make it happen.”

Eagle Ten, E-2CI Hawkeye

One of the controllers was looking at his radar display trying to pick out the enemies Airbourne radar. So far he had had no luck as the twenty seven enemy aircraft continued onwards.

“Weird, there are no emissions from any airbourne radar platforms. These guys might be coming in dumb boss.”

“Either way we got orders.” the lead controller switched his microphone setting to that of the commander of the twenty four plane BARCAP .

“Rodeo Lead, Eagle Ten Over.”

“Reading you Eagle Ten.”

“You got these critters. Proceed on course two-four-nine. Power it.”

“Understood. Out”

The Twenty Four F-22S Sea Raptors from the Fearsome Air Group that were acting as BARCAP went to maximum cruising power for a supercruise of Mach 1.5 and began heading for the enemy fighters. In their internal bays, so as not to compromise the stealth profile, were 8 AAM-3’s with their maximum range of 255km.

The pilots in the F-22’s were closing the range quickly as the enemy aircraft came towards them. When there was 250km separating them each F-22S launched four AAM-3’s each before turning around and hitting their afterburner to take them back closer to the carriers. The missiles meanwhile continued towards the enemy aircraft, being guided by the feed from the AWAC’s some 300km behind them, without the fighters having to illuminate the enemy with their big tracking radars it was unlikely that they would know they had been fired upon until they detected the missiles on their short range fighter radars. It wasn’t particularly fair to the Geneticon Naval Pilots, but this was war.

The ninety six AAM-3’s accelerated to their operational speed of Mach 2.6 and went into their brief ballistic arcs that would end at 28 Naval Fighter aircraft.

IHS Independence, Isomer Class Strike Carrier

Independence began launching the first of her F/A-18D Super Hornets as the first F-22’s pickled off their missiles. Today the Super Hornets carried a heavy armament, two of the big AS-1LM Air to Ship Missile’s, one HARM-5, two AIM-109X Sidewinders and two AAM-3’s.

The near maximum weight caused them to appear to drop off the front of the carrier as the two engines pushed out maximum throttle to push them up into the calm air. The carrier launched 36 of the heavy F/A-18’s first, followed by another 24 F-22S’s as an escort. Her sister ship, Peacekeeper, launched an identical complement whilst Fearless launched two more AWAC’s aircraft to support the counter raid.

It took a while for the formation to assemble, the two groups of F/A-18’s forming up at 45,000feet whilst the F-22’s combined at 50,000 to provide top cover and the ability to attack any fighters that the enemy managed to get up in time. They would be firing the missiles at satellite targeting information that was uploaded directly from the carriers to the AWAC’s and from there to the missiles. With the missile range of 450km they would only have to travel just under 290km from their own formation in order to launch, a journey that at Mach 1 would take about twenty minutes. With the E-2CI’s following and dedicated to looking for enemy air activity that could threaten the group and F-22S’s with long range AAM-3’s guarding them, the enemy were about to have 144 AS-1LM’s gunning for their escorts.

Stevid

03-06-2006, 19:13

South Haven, Stevidian Task Force

The good news about Questers had not come a second too soon, or good the updated coverage on the enemy’s position through the Defiler command cruiser. Stevid had seen the enemy fleet well before they themselves had been spotted, the command cruiser had been getting an almost constant flow on information on the enemy’s position. But the Holy Grail was the target data, identification and verification. Short of the names of the vessels, most of the information on them was gathered, everything from capabilities, range, performance, armament, and crew number based on data from the storefronts they had been purchased from and satellite info and MI6 espionage.

Stevid also had superior RADAR than the enemy’s. It was widely known that most storefronts never supply technology with orders other than the best that could be afforded. That not to play down the enemy’s RADAR, it was probably very good but maybe not AS good as they would like. Stevid’s capital ships had the excellent CELLDAR RADAR technology (used by Guffingford to wound the fifth fleet) and SAMPSON RADAR to provide excellent underwater, surface and air search coverage. The two systems were now part of the fleet and were interlocked together to make a very fine detection net, also with a direct uplink to the AWACS planes and satellites covering the area, the Stevid RADAR range and stretched well over a thousand miles in diameter. Missile lock on was easier to achieve this way and had proven very effective against The Macabees earlier on in the conflict. Stevid’s usual tactic was to enhance the RADAR efficiency to it’s limits so it could pump out almost abnormal amounts of ECM/ECCM pulses to confuse enemy missiles to the point of ineffectiveness while improving their own missiles’ performance. This wasn’t a fail safe defence put had proved very effective against Sledgehammer missiles (despite the large losses in Otium Aqua).

Stevid had three toys to add to their collection of armaments. First up was the XF-23 “Nightwalker” Air-superiority, carrier based, aircraft. After Stevid had attempted to buy top class aircraft from a storefront then to be turned down, the MOD decided that Stevid should increase their chances in the air against the enemy. It was tested and proved to be an exceptional aircraft and highly manoeuvrable in combat. In so doing, the Sea Harriers was removed from active service on the larger carriers replaced by a FULL complement of XF-23 fighters. The two other toys were the new Gothic anti-ship missiles. They came in two types: II and I. Type I is ship based while II is air based. Annoyed about the sledgehammer missiles Stevid decided to make their own missile and the Gothic appeared. Geared up with these new toys, the fleet set sail.

They newly launched ship classes had not been entered into this fleet so the ship classes were mostly the same as those that pushed back The Macabees in Otium Aqua but all so deadly. SAMPSON was quick to pick up infiltrating vessels not too far away from the fleet.

HMS Millwall, Type-23 Frigate

“Targets acquired, SAMPSON read-out. Possibly submarines approaching fleet sir, SONAR reports nothing as of yet and noise indicators haven’t picked them up- they’d be rigged for a silent running.” The RADAR operator, Lt. Snow, spoke into his head set making the whole control room aware of enemy movements.

“Roger, all decks to Condition Yellow, repeat, Condition Yellow.” Captain Jamie Gregory spoke out now through his own headset with a link to the rest of the ship. Eighteen Duke Class frigates were out in front of the main force looking for infiltrating submarines. SDNs were pretty venerable to close attack and submarines had to be eliminated with no remorse. The frigates were combing the area for any sign and now they had found one.

The ship, along with four other accompanying ships, came to a stop and launched Merlin ASW helicopters into the air. HMS Millwall dropped her aft SONAR buoy into the water and let off and enormously loud SONAR explosion underwater. Any whales in the area would have lost consciousness or would have been badly disorientated by such a loud pulse. Hopefully it would pick out every last submarine down there and make easy picking for frigates above.

Dots appeared on RADAR about 15-10 miles out.

“Gottya! Target ID confirmed, picture clear as crystal. Submarines, numbers clear well above five. We’ll need another pulse to find others. Sending target data and location to ASW helicopters.”
“Submarine classes?”
“Not sure yet sir. We’ll get on it.”

The Merlin helicopters shot off towards the targets they had been given.

HMS Malleus

Admiral Scot got the ball rolling early on upon detection. The whole fleet was at Condition Red and Action Stations and the main gunnery of the three super dreadnoughts and battleships were now trained towards the enemy. ECM/ECCM pulses were already being produced. VLS cells open and ready to launch their deadly cargo. More importantly was their air cover though. Even though the outer circle deployment was lined with AA frigates and destroyers, one could rely on them alone. Hanna Scot had ordered the fleet air arm to take off in good light.

Up to one hundred and fifty XF-23’s were armed with long range XAAM’s while the F-35s carried similar armament coupled with them were F3 Sea Tornadoes. Behind that protection of intensive cover were one hundred more XF-23’s with Gothic Type II anti-ship missiles.
SP25-NUKES
The carriers started to have move moment on their decks as pre-prepared aircraft started taking off and arranging themselves into their own air wings and groups and started to fly out to sea. The XF-23’s armed with Gothic missiles hugged the calm sea as they reached their frighteningly fast top speed up to just under mach 3. Friendly aircraft armed with AA missiles provided top cover a few thousand feet above them and a couple of miles behind. The range on the AA gothic missiles was exceptional, well over 320km and would hopefully be enough to fire at the enemy and then be able to scoot off out of there.

The other XF-23’s were well above them. Enemy planes had been picked up by the CELLDAR between 50-60 thousand feet and aimed for the middle. All the while they were checking their RADAR for bogeys. They had ECM/ECCM benefit from their fleet and there LADAR/LIDAR technology that would be able to mask their approach and attack vector to a certain degree (OOC: Full details of this tech is somewhere on the NS draftroom). They were more than ready. The excellent thing about the XF-23 was their 360-degree HUD’s and their direct uplink to the fleets CELLDAR/SAMPSON array. Uplinks with the Defiler and any friendly AWACS in the area and they could switch between any of these for position and target location and identification. They hand the upper hand and they liked to think this as well. A good frame of mind and calm, confident nerves were essential to the mission and morale.

The wing commanders ordered all aircraft to arm their long-range air-to-air missiles for combat. Target numbers weren’t totally confirmed yet but there were reports of only a few aircraft airborne. Lest their numbers be few, it should not deter the pilots’ frame of mind. Twenty, thirty, thirty thousand, it did not matter. They all knew the implications and they all had a job to do.

If all else failed in the air and the plan to destroy ships with the Gothic Missiles then they had one more fail-safe. That was on no ones mind as the XF-23’s moved forward to engagement range.

“Wing Commander Bobby to everyone in my choir. Missiles armed. Targets approaching maximum range of our missiles. Fox 3 on my mark.”

There was a clicking noise over the radio as the pilots flicked their radios off and on to confirm that they understood the order without breaking radio silence too much. The plane streaked forward some more as faint green squares on the HUDs turned red as long-range lock on was established.

“Wait people, wait people. Don’t press it yet. If you fire now they’ll pull away. When you fire on my mark we should get some…”

Clicks over the radio could be heard once more. Wing Commander Bobby felt his heart racing. A nation he’d never heard of before was about to be on the receiving of Stevid’s missiles. He now spoke into is radio speaker has the enemy plane drew ever closer, still on missile lock on.

“Right, we should entering their RADAR coverage in ten seconds. Okay, FOX 3! Missiles away!”

Each aircraft fired two XAAMs each from the underbelly missiles storage leaving two more XAAMs left in each, including six sidewinders and Vulcan cannons in case things got up close and personally. The smoke trails of loads of missiles streaked in front of the fighter wings. It was time to see the results before firing off the next round if there were any survivors.

ordinance
In Air
150 XF-23’s armed with 6x sidewinders and 4x XAAM
100 XF-23’s armed with 6x sidewinders and 4x Gothic Type II AS missiles
50 F3 Sea Tornadoes

Missiles

60 aircraft fired two XAAMs each:

120 Long-range XAAM missiles launched at enemy aircraft formation in total.

Skibereen

03-06-2006, 20:27

Aboard Warlord-12 the Skibereenian Marines cleaned gear, boxed, wrestled harassed naval personnel and were gong through the traditional head shaving process that was a tradition among the Sea-fighters of Skibereen history during their war on the slave trade.

A platoon of scouts sat in a large Mess aboard Warlord-12 music blared over a large stereo in the corner guttural screams and heavy guitar as men pushed and shoved each other throwing punches and ramming heads, this was a time of psychological preparation…

The music changed and it had a slow grooving hip-hop beat and one of the young men grabbed a globe from a desk in a joining office and began to dance with while singing the song, it was a large comic relief that many here needed as anticipation was quite draining.

The perverse lyrics were odd when they were being addressed to the world “I’m superfly bitch, I’m not that guy bitch, I’ll feck you blind bitch leave you face down in a ditch…” At that line the room erupted the laughing stopped and men raised their rifles and barked (only members of a specific fraternal faction with in the military practice this) or some were grunting like silver backed apes stomping on the floor for effect and in general making themselves feel ferocious.

“Sasha, why so grim?” A sergeant approached a young marine who seemed to be staring straight through the ships hull.

“Its nothing Mother, I just have never been to Macabee and this is not how I would have chosen to visit.” The Corporal’s name was Mogimbi he was half Skibereenian half Macabean at least in his eyes he was his mother was from the Macabean enclave in the south West of Skibereen.

“That’s right this is where your mother’s folks were from? Hey Mogimbi you’re fecking Marine how else would you want to meet your extended family then like a Marine, helping make sure they don’t get their asses handed to them.” The sergeant smiled at that last part.

“I know Mother, but I just can’t help it, I wish my father and mother were still alive to at least see what I ended up doing with my life.”

With that, the sergeant ducked his head a little bit and leaned in “Mogimbi they know, you know, and hey man after this is all done I will help find any family you have there.”

Mogimbi stood up “What if there isn’t and what if I die? Then we are all gone. My entire family.”

The room went silent, even the music was in between songs.

A large Afro-Skib stood up he was another sergeant.

“Hey there little man you forget what you are, who we are"
He held a combat shotgun in his large hands, the weapon was pistol gripped and in his grasp, it appeared to be a large pistol.
He was a Marine Assault Raider and not a scout.

He was standing with his squad.

He ebony face split wide with a smile
“Remember what we showed you, if you are in any trouble its best to call your pals” the large man’s squad nodded their heads and smiled
One man softly said the words “pistol grip pump”
The new sergeant continued, “Air support and armor aint good for shit but passing you by, we’re family, we got to be, we got your back, we got your back kid. These Havinites might be fucking with other Macabee boys but they can’t be fucking with mine.”

“Pistol grip Pump in hands at all times…” another member of his squad said louder.

Suddenly the men broke into the song with the lyrics changed and suddenly it was a ruckus room again this time Cpl. Sasha Mogimbi among the ruckus.

The feel aboard Warlord-12 was the same as that aboard many of the Warlords in the group and the Marines had many things to worry about when they hit ground.

RAVEN NAVAL BASE, UTGARD CITY, JOTUMHEIM SKIBEREEN

“They are ready for launch sir.” A young Marine Officer stood speaking to a man not in uniform.

“Excellent, Any indication they will encounter initial resistance?”
The man did not look at the Marine.
“Negative, intelligence implies no present threat on the proposed route.”

“Can I have the estimate to contact with Macabee shore for the Drakes?”

“Sir that would be approximately six hours. Our most experienced forces will deploy via the Drakes.”

“Excellent, then let it commence, let us see the Wyyrm turn.”

From an underground pen the north face of the Jotunheim cliffs spewed forth a massive craft coming out into the sea it would be spotted by any Satellite monitoring Skibereen and they would have no idea what it was.
The Drakes six classes of a new Marine Support vessel;
Leviathan

Jormungander

Vasuki

Tiamat

Nidhoggr

Vritra

Moved out into the open sea huge forms but they did not lumber, rather they glided along the surface like some otherworldly ‘thing’ just as their names implied.

One hundred fifty-four vessels continuously picking up speed moved into the Skibereenian night, they would be in Macabee by dawn and they would beat the Skibereenian fleet by a day.

DontPissUsOff

06-06-2006, 01:48

Rukei nodded, no particular expression crossing his features; he had carefully set them into a blank wall of neutrality, having learned from experience that this was the best way to keep business businesslike. He, like the man opposite him, was engaged in a rigorous process of visual examination. Neither young, nor particularly old; fit, as one would expect of a man of his position (though Rukei doubted he could have outdone some of the men in his factory); evidently intent upon making a good impression through his compliments, his politeness, his shining uniform that was already starting to show sign of coal dust stains appearing upon it. And holding high expectations, it seemed, doubtless born of desperate necessity. A tiny sliver of morality still left somewhere in his soul awoke as he considered Diesp’s position, and for that reason alone Rukei resisted the strong urge to nail the Macabee to the wall price-wise.

“I should hope that will not be necessary”, he replied finally, having sat for a moment browsing through some papers of his own. “If it is, you will probably have the most distinct difficulty finding anyone to operate the tanks built for you, if you don’t mind my saying so.” Rukei had done his national service; he knew what modern warfare was about. “I can promise you that we will deliver these tanks as rapidly as possible, and hopefully before the required deadline. We’re already getting into the swing of it here, so I think that by the third month we should be turning out maybe an extra four hundred per month to meet your needs.” He suddenly stopped, in the middle of inhaling, and hacked noisily for several seconds. “My apologies - this coal dust gets everywhere.” He let Diesp speak again, and mulled over his words.

“Well, that’s reassuring to know. However, I cannot help but think that it will eventually become known that we are supplying your side in this mess, one way or another.” He turned and indicated the busy yard outside. “While I appreciate your position, I hardly need tell you that our armed forces are not in exactly magnificent shape at the moment; should the Questerians, for instance, decide that they take objection to our supplying you there would be very little that could be done about it.” He turned back to Diesp. “Of course, that’s not really my affair. Political business, after all.” My affair’s just to get paid and hope to the Sun we’re ready for any problems. “And I suppose that arrangements can be made, if need be.” Rukei decided to leave the point duly made, and rose. “Come, General.” He opened the thin door, still vibrating with the endless thump of the hammers. “Let me give you the tour - I always find negotiating exact details easier whilst on the move.”

Jagada

06-06-2006, 08:38

"The hopes of the Republic, the hopes of the region--before the battle...it felt like it was all on my shoulders. Like the World was looking at me and depending upon me to cast the demons of the Golden Throne into the pits of Hell itself. As if the Almighty was giving but a humble smile to me--as if He was telling me that I was a Crusader..." -- Exerpt from the Journal of Grand Admiral Bradley III

[Sarcanzan Waters, The Empire]

Like hulks of metal, like island fortresses they cut threw the wave-commanded waters of the Sarcanzan coast--the Grand Navy was in movement. They had made almost impossible time, going from the Republic to Sarcanza in almost no time at all. All in all, the Ninth Fleet was all that this Grand Armada consisted of, though these ships were nothing to be trifle with. They were the capital ships of the Ninth Fleet, they were in essence the most powerful ships the Republic was able to wield this early in the war--a war which would determine the independance of the region. One could hardly understand the pressure and stress put upon this one fleet, this was their one shot--their one chance. If they lost here, the Republic lost. The Macabees could sweep into Jagada with its vast armies and crush the Republic just as it did in the Colonial War. The ships themselves looked stressed, nay not from the engineering, as if they had souls and their souls were in dispair--as no man or thing should have had to go threw what they were about to. There was no indication of a Macabee Fleet, though it was only a matter of it. They were the hopes of billions, they were the first offensive line, and the last defensive line. Beyond them was chaos and eventual collapse. Yet, despite this mood the ships of the Republic stood tall and proud. The Grand Navy had never won an engagement in its history of service, but it maintained its pride, its self-respect. It was full of proud soldiers, from proud families, from a proud nation. No one nation, no one person could crush the people of Jagada--they were almost immortals. They had survived three exterminations, four if one got technical, yet they lived on. It seemed that only the Almighty God could utterly crush them--as if He was the only being capable of delivering to them their final breath. Such was the way the Jagites lived.

JGFS Dwarven Hammer

The illumination of the screens which were sprewn across the bridge of the massive battleship gave the room an eerie green and blue mixture of light. Making it a darkened, yet at the same time bright place. Grand Admiral Bradley stared out the black window of the battleship--his mind racing to events past. He had reported to President Riyabuo and when he went into her office, he saw for the first time something that no one should see from their leader--tears. She wasn't crying when he walked in, but he saw the one tear she'd missed when wiping her face claiming she had allergies. He couldn't understand why she cried, though at the same time he had a good idea of what she may have been crying about. The Republic had never won a single war in its history, not even during the Civil Wars did the legimate governments ever prevail. If the Republic lost this war, there wouldn't be a second chance, that would be it, game over. Yes, pressure was upon him, yes the Republic had put itself into a very difficult position. He was confused, so were the people, they demanded blood--but they did not know why. Jagites were confused many times these days, mass reports of nightmares about the Extermination came in daily, even though very few people who lived in Jagada were old enough to even remeber the Extermination. Psycologists in Jagada had classified the diease 'Extermiantion Syndrome', Bradley himself had that diease, and his nights were often haunted by imagines that he could not understand. As if the souls of the exterminated cried out for vengence, and used the newer generations to broadcast this message. Though there was nothing the Republic could do--it lacked the economy and the power to stand against the Surpreme State. Prehaps this war...this Fedor War was the Republic's way to vent all of its confusion, all its distress out on those whom they blamed for everything bad that had come to them--the Macabees and its allies. Bradley himself wanted nothing more than to fire shells directly onto loyalist Macabee soil--to know that for once in Jagada's history they had the power to strike their enemies--instead of being striked themselves. He would ensure that, he had to.

"Any reports yet?" asked Bradley into the dark room. He only got a sharp 'Negative, sir'.

"Order all ships to be on alert, expect a sneak attack by the Kriegmada," stated Bradley again into the dark room, and this time he got a confirmation.

Bradley sighed internally, much was going to occur in this war, and those involved would be in the history books. The only question was--who would write those books?

JGFS Genisis

Reynold Lex was someone whom you'd put on a recuitment poster with some fancy patriotic phrases about how the Navy was an exciting adventure. He was tall, well-built, blond hair, blue eyes, and an attitude which simply oozed honor and bravery. The Naval Command could not have put a better man in charge of the new line of Battleships--as the Genisis was just the first in many. It announced its presence with 508mm naval guns, and plenty of them, combined with five dual-purpose 155mm guns, and armor that would make enemy naval shells cry out in pain if they scored even the most direct hit possible. Reynold Lex wasn't, however, what you'd expect of a commander--he was actually a new recruit into the Navy and had only gain this position due to his looks, and in no short part his father, whom happened to be Rear-Admiral Kumata, commander of the Fourth Fleet, which was currently the first fleet being activated, supplied, and armed. Reynold himself was actually a nationally known martial artists in Jagada, having won several tournaments, and the most unusual thing was--Renyold was at the moment in his late twenties. He had only started martial arts, and in fact anything physical until the age of sixteen. Despite that he pushed long and hard and become not just a nationally renown fighter, but also a journalist and book writer. This Naval Command was just something else in a long list of goals he had in life.

Reynold, was nervious, this was his first naval engagement and not against some third world athiest dictator like his father had promised, but against the Golden Throne and the Kregimada, not exactly atheistic dictators, and most certainly not of third world caliber, they were prehaps some of the most feared sailors in the world, they were something not to be trifled with. Yet the Grand Navy was about to do just that. They were about to go face-to-face with a Navy which was feared the world over.

"Communication from the Dwarven Hammer sir," stated the communications officer.

"Report," stated Reynold in a firm, authoritarian voice, covering up his nerviousness.

"Sir, Grand Admiral Braldey has informed us to be on the look out for a sneak attack by the Kreigmada," stated the officer.

Reynold nodded. "Be on the look out? If they were going to sneak attack, we could look all we want and we'd still get surprised," thought Reynold.

"Any enemy ships or aircraft?" asked Reynold, like he had countless times before and he got the same answer this time as he did all the others 'No'. Though despite that he could feel them, the Macabee sailors as if they were waiting for them--waiting to pounce upon them. Reynold looked down at his uniform and sown onto it was the Honorable Cross--a gold-colored cross on every Admiral's uniforms. Lower ranking sailors and soldiers recieved a variety of colors for their ranks. The Cross upon which the Christ was crucified upon--such was the pain the Saviour of Humanity had to endure for the sins that he and his men, along with the enemy, were about to commit. "Keep us safe Lord," said Reynold, in which he got several amens from his bridge crew.

God willing the Republic would win this war.

Mekugi

07-06-2006, 01:29

Orbit-

Irony it seems was brewing above the Jagadan Fleet as somewhere between god and earth a silent vigil was held. Drifting on what was essentially a controlled freefall a Mekugian reconnaissance satellite passed gracefully over head at 17,000 mph it maintained its altitude in a ballet of thrusters and slight adjustments its unblinking eyes observing the rotating blue ball below.

The Jagadan Fleet was large, even on low resolution the gray hulls -more importantly the wake their massive hulls generated- were easy enough to spot as they steamed south along the sarcazan coastline. Minutes passed as the satellite did as it always did and waited for a confirmation signal from its temporary control station in macabre, when the signal returned the satellite continued on its course passing away from the conflict area as one of its many brothers took over the same task a constant stream of images from the target area being beamed to the station below.

Macabea, Strategic Control (STRATCOM)-

“Sir, we have a confirmed Fleet movement 320km north of us.” Ensign Jonathan Roc said in a soft spoken but altogether serious tone. He straightened a few of the papers in front of him as they came off the printer and Handed them to the Commander.

“FOF?” (pronounced F-off a short form of Friend or Foe) he responded questioningly as he flipped through the report before handing it back to the ensign.

“Definitely Foe, or so we assume. The Microsats we have up in theatre don’t have the resolution for national identification, however there is no other registered NAP presence currently within 300km of the area.”

“Not to mention they chose the northerly route which pretty much rules out all but Unionists and the unionists are all still in port…” retorted the Commander.

“Exactly sir”

“I hate to say it but looks like the Third Fleet will have a fight on their Hands, I assume they’ve reformed after word of the First Fleet being en-route?” said the commander as he took a seat on eh clean end of the ensigns desk.

“Aye sir, they are approximately 300km south of the unknown fleets position guarding the last of the Unionists ships as they make their way to Macabea.”

“Well then alert the Fleet to intercept and destroy,;

No need for waiting for approval, confirm the existence of the enemy fleet and their origin. If by the time they make contact with the enemy fleet no word comes from our allies that this is theirs, have them fire at will…. No need to go off half cocked, but there’s also no need to let them get any closer…” The commander stood up and headed towards the break room for some coffee as the Ensign furiously typed away at the encoding machine for transmittance to the Third Fleet.

The Third Fleet, 300km south south-west of the Unknown fleet-

‘The Zarbian Menace’ had been a red herring, or so it seemed as though the Third Fleet had maintained its patrols they had encountered absolutely nothing of any challenge whatsoever, the occasional odd sonar contact made its way but half the time this turned out to be either a whale or an allied submarine, but now came a report the CIC that nearly made the crew break out in cheer, ‘something!’ they found something!’ came the communications officer on the RNV Archon as he ran down the cavernous halls that connected the various Op centers of the massive Siege Dreadnaught coming to s a skidding halt on the metal floors as he reached the Admirals Office and nearly burst in unannounced in a very unprofessional matter. The communiqué’ has said urgent, so the Second lieutenant entered the office and quickly saluted the Admiral as he was just finishing his afternoon tea. “Urgent message from STRAT sir…”

‘Give it here’ squawked Admiral Decker grumpily as the junior officer with anxiousness handed it over to him. The admiral less excited to see possible combat nodded and dismissed the officer before pressing the intercom on his desk.

“Helm Make course Zero-Nine-Zero degrees and increase speed to 30 knots.” a muffled ‘aye, aye sir’ was the response but the admiral ignored it as he stood up and walked over to his mirror adjusting his uniform in the fading daylight.

‘Tonight is the night it seems… will I join you father? Shall we walk the same blood red line tonight.’

The Admiral Returned to his desk and changed the channel on his intercom to Navigation before sitting down into his high backed leather chair.

“ Navigation… Have the fleet make a wide arc around the unknown fleets sensor range and come at them due west… We and a few escorts will move towards the coast line to approach the enemy fleet from due south. We should be a big enough target to draw them out, with any luck will be able to force them into the shallows and bleed them their.”

Navigation was silent for a few seconds before responding “ aye aye sir. That should throw them for a loop…” The admiral closed the channel without responding and leaned back into the chair quietly he was not a man to act smug but even he was pleasantly amused with the gambit.

Fleet Composition-
3x Archon Class SDN
3x Obelisk Class ADN
3x McConchie Class ACVN
9x Paragon Class DN
6x Messier Class CVN
9x Carina Class SSGN’s
15x Superb Class BCN
36x Pacem Class DDN
24x Port Carson Class ASW Frigates
30x Port Icelia Class Air Defense Frigates

Heavy VLS battery, A Deck, RNV Paragon an hour later-

“CLEAR! CLEAR! CLEAR!… UAV away…”

As a the meter wide tube opened up flame belched froth from either side of the tube illuminating the deck in the dimming light of evening. What was essentially a modified Cruise missile sprung forth and climbed high into the air almost 280km west of the unknown fleet. The much more stealthy form of the UAV unfolded its wings and flew to rather low 130m as it headed at a steady pace towards the enemy fleet to investigate, though it was a chance that it could be discovered and alert the other fleet as to an enemy presence it should give enough data to be able to allow the Archon to fire its broadside anti-shipping missiles in a chance to lure them in or destroy them on the spot, Either would be an acceptable outcome.

Spizania

07-06-2006, 09:29

Northern Sea, 1100km from contact with enemy units
The fleet moved in a improvised combat formation, the larger ships of the fleet flanked by the escorts and the Support Vessels bringing up the rear, safe from the enemy approaching from the front, there aft was guarded by a rear screen of frigates configured for ASW operatons, they were not going to let a submarine get inside the logistical support formation, if they did it would undoubtably become carnage.
The enemy fleet was still approaching, they were far out of range of Normal Confederate Anti-Shipping Missiles, Shockhounds and Sledgehammers, but they were easily within range of the Confederacies newest weapon, recently purchased from ZMI, Khan Missiles.
The Decks of the CSS Ookhazi turned white and grey with smoke plumes as dozens of Khan Semi-Ballistic Missiles roared away, they were not using there Cryo-boosters, the target was too close to need them, but still they were a sight to see as they rode on pillars of flame. 48 were targetted on enemy escorts in the front of the enemy formation, while another sixteen were targetted at the enemy flagship.
Death would come on swift wings to the enemy ships, they would pay for challenging the Northern Allies, and retribution would be served for all the casualties of the battle of Optia Aqium Sea, the names of the Confederate Commanders would go down in history as those who had dealt a crushing blow to the enemies designs on the northern sea in a single afternoon.
The Battle of the Northern Sea was begun.
As calm settled once more over the fleet and strike and air superiority aircraft were readied for takeoff in anticipation of the coming combat, the crews of the combined taskforce waited with bated breath for news of the first combat firing of the Khan Missile in Confederate History

Geneticon

07-06-2006, 13:39

OOC: Sorry for the OOC comment... I'm on a strange computer and I couldn't find the OOC thread. I'll delete this in August.

I j ust found out that I will be unable to post till August... and so that means I won't be able to play until then. In order to keep things moving, I ask Mac to NPC my ships until then. Thanks!

The stats can be found at Sarz's, DMG's, and Issel's storefronts.

Skibereen

08-06-2006, 22:12

SATELLITE COMMAND CENTER, JOTUNHEIM ISLE SKIBEREEN

“What do you mean?”

“Sir, the Jagite fleet moved out right in front our two task forces on the northern route, they are moving as if they are unaware of our presence.”
A young officer dressed in the olive drab of the Red Hand uniform spoke in a deadpan monotone as he relayed the information.

“Range?”

“Eight hundred kilometers sir, and closing.”

“So they could be completely unaware, because of the weather.”
The Officer in charge of the facility was Vice Admiral Deguerre.
His flesh was black, as night and his voiced seemed to come less from his mouth then from deep in his broad chest where to the listener it touched not first your ears but rather reverberated through your body like the deep bass of rolling thunder.

“I am guessing unaware sir, I see no reason they should allow us to make land fall. Or have such a tactically advantageous position on them.”

The Vice Admiral “I tend to agree, of course we have the advantage our Capitals are even now moving to the front of the formation for operation Zulu.”

“The speeds of the fleets will allow us to move into appropriate formation before they would be upon us and aware, if we maintain our current track. What do you see for options Commander?”

“We could divide the fleet drop the speed of the primary, have the other move around, and flank them. If they are unaware then they would not have an inkling that we had divided our forces.”

“True and I had considered this; however, that would mean the Warlords would be made vulnerable. I am not keen on that idea.”

“Well, we could decrease speed allow the capitals to move up faster and delay the Warlords so they could reach the rally point by circumvention. This is again contra to Operation Zulu.”

“Again, not yet an option I am willing to take.”

“There are the Vampires, we could allow a coven of them to advance in the detection range of the Jagites and allow them to surprise the subs. This would give the main fleet time to rally and provide a proper face for the Jagite fleet.”

“This is an option I am willing to consider.
Do we have information on forces in the area?”

“Negative sir, too much theater clutter. There are a large number of vessels in the area. That is all we know.”

“Then I see no other alternative.”

BEDA FROMM MACABEE EMPIRE

The Marine fleet of Wingships had diverted north around an enemy fleet on the move, this had delayed them by four hours as the massive Drake Family vessels certainly would have gotten their attention but small matter none of the naval contingents in the theater could respond quickly enough to the Drakes at the ranges used to circumvent their movements.

14 Leviathan

14 Jormungander

21 Vasuki

21 Tiamat

28 Nidhoggr

56 Vritra

The Leviathans beached on the coast just south of Corzar in Beda Fromm their massive bulk began to belch forth its stores.
The fourteen Leviathans carried 28,000 troops in battle gear.
As well, they carried ammunition carries and AFVs.

The Jormungander’s beached and began the same process expect where the Leviathan spewed forth troops and light armor the Jormungander discharged MBTs and light armor.
The Aquila MBT and Stoat class AFV family vehicles moved from the majority of the Jorms.
The final four however belched forth the Negro Leon’s the largest Skibereenian battle tank.
In total in Corzar came forth 28,000 troops, 120 Aquila Negra MBTs, 430 AFVs, and 20 Negro Leon HBTs.

The operation was swift and along an eight mile stretch so inside of 45 minutes the units had been discharged and the Vessels were moving back out to sea to head back to Skibereen.

ROUNDING RIPTIDE POINT

The main surface fleet had received a burst transmission of the Jagites fleet before there own.

Course and bearing was a Match of the Skibereenian Fleet.

However, the Skibereenian Fleet was gaining as the weather had gone bad first for the Jagites.

The Vessels received orders and began moving into Zulu formation.
The SNS-Dawn and her AAW escorts moved to lead the pack of vessels now closing the range on the Jagite formation.

The Revelation and the Genesis Classes as well spread out with AAW escorts while the Vampires patrolled for ASW/mine threats.

It was still unclear as to how many ships were Jagite and were not and exactly who the others were should they not be Jagite…however the returning Drake family would pass near enough the opposing vessels to make FOF confirmation.

It was risky using the Drakes in such a capacity especially with an oncoming fleet, but that would again only serve to draw the attention of the Jagites away from the closing Skibereenian fleet.
Should the Drakes be forced to engage the fight would be short lived and they would run, as best they could.

Only a few hours and Zulu would be in effect.
Strangely, the Admiral had not yet ordered the raising of the Colors…

Independent Hitmen

12-06-2006, 11:16

Gillen Naval Yards, Independent Hitmen

To the IHN command it seemed that the two IH Fleets currently stationed in the area around the Golden Throne (2nd and 7th) did not quite have the numbers, nor total firepower, to suppress anything more than they currently were doing. With the majority of the 2nd Fleet at the southern tip of Haven and the 7th now guarding the Otium Aqua there were very few spare vessels in the area. The devastation at Portsmouth had come as an unpleasant shock, that Stevid force was sorely needed and now was nothing more than smoking ruins.

So in the days that had passed since then IH capital ships had been recalled from stations around the globe. They had been doing nothing more there than reminding the world of the existence of the Hitmen, no stabilising force was in place as there had been when the last major conflict reared its ugly head so virtually the whole of the Armed Force’s were available. And so vessels had steamed into various ports along the Western coast, already a surface action group had been dispatched and now another was ready to escort more transports to the far away lands.

Five of the virtually brand new Toryu Class Battleships had been eased out of their berths next to a fueling pier during the previous night and now formed up in a line astern just out to sea awaiting their charges. They were joined by the two SuperDreadnoughts Black Prince and King Robert, two more of the Prince of Wales Class Superdreadnoughts that had become objects of affection for the IHN Admirals of late. These waited for the transports in almost silence, the gunnery drills on the 25 27.1” cannon suspended whilst the merchantmen formed up. The first of those were the twelve transports carrying the equipment belonging to the 6th (Heavy) Marine Division followed by an equal number with the 9th Marines and then two dozen more carrying general supplies. The next ships were those really important ones in this convoy, they carried 500 Iron Cheetah MBT’s as well as some Grendal SAM batteries and Mist Lynx IFV’s. Once in theatre they would link up with their crews to form another IH armoured division in Stevid.

When they were out to sea the merchant vessels formed up into six columns of twelve vessels with escorts spaced around them. The AEGIS cruiser Golden was actually with the merchantmen providing close in weapons support whilst the rest of the escorts formed a double perimeter around her, the closer of SAM’s and the further of ASW pickets. They would sail directly for Sunderland harbour where the merchantmen would be handed over to another escort force whilst this one moved to support the 7th Fleet.

Along the coast at PortHaven, the ships of the IHN 12th Fleet left the relatively safe confines of the port facilities and headed out to sea. Twelve carriers, nine battleships and seven heavy cruisers along with supply ships and escorts sailed and set course for the region at war. Another three brand new capital ships accompanied this fleet, an Illustrious Class Carrier and two Ocean Class Carrier’s, whilst the escort was supplemented by new Brandenburg Class ASW frigates and a pair of Carrack cruisers. Earlier an entire squadron of Sparrowhawk class destroyers (9) and Brandenburg Class Frigates had accompanied two Bowman Class Battlecruisers as they also left the port, making their own way to a separate area. On the way they would link up with two Guided Missile Cruisers to fully establish their air defence umbrella.

Southern Haven

The B-6’s sat, for once, in the open. The rural airbase had been almost completely taken over by the Hitmen Air Force since the news came of the Macabean Surface Fleet heading south. The aircraft of the 9th Bomber Wing were joined by additional assets for this mission, new SB-22 low detection bombers. Whilst they could only manage Mach 1.2 at cruise, to the Mach 3.7 of the B-6’s, these newer bombers were a lot harder to detect on radar. Even with the enemies monstrous airbourne radar aircraft that they knew would be operating with the task force the pilots of the SB-22’s were confident that they could get to within 300km undetected. A distance of 450km would be all that was needed however as the bomb bays of the two types of aircraft were filled with AS-1LM’s. For the B-6’s that meant the standard load of four and for the SB-22’s the loadout was twelve missiles each in their much more spacious bomb bays.

With a total of 36 B-6’s and 24 SB-22’s taking part in the first part of the operation, codenamed “Spider”, the Macabeean escort ships would be in grave danger. They were to be supported by KC-135 tankers that would be escorted by a squadron of F-22A Raptors to supplement local Havenic air superiority fighters.

IHS New London
With the Stevid Fleet currently engaging the enemy South of Haven

A second strike was being prepared against the Geneticon Fleet even before first strike had been completed. It woud be a much larger strike than the first one had been and might just persuade those foreign sailors that they were better off turning around and heading back home.

F/A-18D’s and E’s would be performing the main strikes with their AS-1M missiles whilst the F-22S’s would provide fighter cover with E/A-6B’s in close support for jamming protection should the enemy get a launch, all under the direction of the E-2CI’s further to the rear.

The aircraft that had taken part in the first strike were not even back at the carriers when the first aircraft for the second began to launch. C-2T Tankers from Independence and Peacekeeper rose up to provide support to the large amount of aircraft as the rest of the carriers began launching the attack birds and fighters. While they waited the C-2T’s topped up the tanks on the BARCAP fighters giving them an extra two hours endurance that they may need.

The IH commanders had several plans. The Raid Commander sitting in an E-2CI would decide upon which to use when the enemy made their reaction to the massed air armada. If they sat behind their SAM belt and waited that would be fine, the F/A-18’s could launch outside it with impunity. If they came out to play the F-22’s would be fighting over kills with their AAM-3’s and other missiles that would be launched in swarms at whatever aircraft came out to greet them. Just incase the enemy employed strategic or tactical jamming aircraft a squadron of the F-22’s had missiles already set up in the home-on-jam mode that would mercilessly hunt the jammers as long as they radiated.

As for targeting of the Air to Ship missiles, the majority were set simply to target the nearest escorts that they found, with the semi-circular launching pattern that was to be used this would hopefully badly damage the enemy capability to wage AsuW and ASW operations. Thirty of the missiles had however been programmed specifically to track the biggest blips that its seeker head found and to engage them directly, targetting the enemy capital ships that seemed to demand attention by their mere presence. As soon as the big guns of the two allied fleets were in range they would be getting a lot more of that unwanted attention.

IHS Twilight, Daedulus Class Dreadnought.
The Otium Aqua

Twilight was operating as the command centre for the 7th Fleet at this time. The group was still together, covering nearly 90 square kilometres, and the radar tracks showed multiple aircraft in the air. They were still being supported by land based E-3F’s as well as P-3 Orions that were aiding the ASW screen set up in advance of the groups course.

Fleet Admiral Evans had moved to Twlight some time before due to its better Command and Control Facilities. An IH Fleet had not previously acted in one large group, but again the lessons of the First Otium Aqua had to be applied. The fate of the Hampshire group was still keenly felt and led to this concentration of firepower that was now present. With the advent of satellite’s they no longer had to cover large amounts of ocean with dispersed shipping in order to gain a fix on the enemy, the commanders could see where the enemy were and move towards them as and when they saw fit knowing the strategic surprise was null. Tactical surprise however was up for grabs. They didn’t know the enemies intentions, but it was rather obvious what the 7th Fleet’s was. They had to hold the Otium Aqua whist their Stevid allies rebuilt their naval strength after the fearful beating it had experienced lately and smashed the other enemy fleets to the south.

But those same satellites that they were relying upon could also prove troubling. The earlier tampering of them by hostile cosmonauts had not all been filtered out of the system and so the apparently small enemy task force was nothing of the sort as Evans was about to be informed of by a rather sheepish Intelligence Officer.

“Commander, you said that there were some earlier errors in the information provided to us. Please make your corrections.”

“Very well Sir. We made another pass at the enemy formation, this time with one of our brand new recon birds that went up last week. The images are….well…..they are slightly different to those I first presented to you.”

The Commander opened his file and laid out several pictures on the table of a spaced out battlegroup. There were several white circles around some ships.

“Commander, what do these circles represent? There are quite a few of them on this.”

“Yes Sir. Each circle represents a ship that the original satellite passes didn’t pick up.”

Evans’ right eyebrow was raised at this. A troubled expression begun to dawn on his face as he asked his next question.

“And how does that effect their order of battle?”

“Ummmm…..well….errrr….”

“Out with it man for god’s sake.”

“Our new estimates give them ten vessels of battleship to superdreadnought size, thirteen aviation ships with times two cruisers minimum. As with all Macabean style fleets they have an abundance of those Pepperbox things with them as well, almost stupid levels to be honest.”

“Dammit. I thought we had this lot by the bollocks man! Get Captain’s Von Hampf, Jenkins, Smith and Commanders Jones and Lewitt up here now.”

Evans’ voice shook slightly with his orders. The three Captains were his most senior vessel commanders and the two commanders were trusted intelligence experts, very good at rolling out ship statistics and guessing at Macabeean style tactics. Jones had even predicted the fate of the Hampshire group. Within two minutes they were all present in the Admiral’s spacious cabin and were looking over the satellite pictures in silence, each absorbing what that meant for their individual missions. Two of the Captains were carrier commanders, thereby aggressive, whilst the third was the Dreadnought commander exhibiting slow caution combined with large amounts of mental planning and a decisive broadside blow. But it was the Admiral that spoke first.

“Commanders, what do we know of the vessels and equipment, statistically speaking?”

“Sir, the Indestructable Class Carrier takes one hundred and twenty aircraft from our best intel sources and the number of aircraft involved in Otium Aqua 1 would appear to support that. Figure one hundred fighter-attack aircraft with the rest support, the word from the experienced Air Groups is that those Lu-45s airbourne radars are particularly painful. I gather we have some new toys for them though. I make it two..no three Model class carriers, although that one looks the wrong shape. That will give them roughly 1440 aircraft to play with, give or take depending upon the capacity of these three. They are basically the Indestructable’s forerunner, heavy on missiles and we assume light on aircraft and armour compared to us. We also understand through MI6 that they have acquired some of this semi-ballistic Kahn missiles that we have heard rumblings of, the boys on the AEGIS have software to deal with that kind of track though. What do you think of their gun ships Steve?”

Commander Lewitt took over the stat reading.

“Well from our information about the Argentine they have 25” guns, 18” guns and 12inchers. Enough to ruin our day several times over. Maximum range is no more than 400klicks with any degree of accuracy, even accounting for their assisted shells. Main weakness though is there limited Air Defence, they rely on those ADV’s for that, although the carriers and dreadnoughts do carry some large amounts of VLS cells that they could load with SAM’s if they had the want to. I would guess its an offensive loadout, lots of anti-shipping missiles with minimal defensive ones, they figure if they remove us then they got the game wrapped up here. As for those other four Dreadnought sized vessels we know nothing about them, possible duds we will have to get the intel guys on that. It’s these two that really worry me, our boys over at the Treasury Intel Section tell us that they must’ve spent about 1/3 of their Defence budget on them, they would suspect that funding shortcomings have had to be made elsewhere in their military machine.”

As he spoke his fingers tapped the two enlarged satellite pictures denoting two very familiar ships, Prince of Wales Class Superbattleships. They had been enlarged enough that the names were clearly visible on them, Warspite and Prince of Wales, both names of serving vessels in the IHN. It seemed that the Hitmen weren’t the only unoriginal namers in the world.

“Well Gentlemen, give me some options.”

There was a nervous pause as everybody exchanged glances. It was thankfully broken by a loud knock at the door which promptly swung open, adding another officer to the gathering. This women, a ships communication officer, quickly walked over to the Admiral and handed him a piece of paper that he signed for immeadiately as she spoke.

“We just decoded this Admiral. Thought I should bring it to you straight away.”

Evans scanned it before handing it to the Officers with him. A small smile spread over his face temporarily removing the anxious look he had adopted in the past few minutes, the change was mimicked by those assembled officers as they also read it.

“Thank you very much Clare. Well this changes things slightly. What do we do in the meantime?”

Captain Jenkins was the first to speak.

“Admiral, I would suggest that we shoot off the plus fives and put all our fighters into the air in about an hour as they cross the 1100km mark. Then we let them close till 900km then keep them at that distance while we hammer them with our attack aircraft. We’ve got all the space in the world to manoeuvre and we have a slight speed advantage from our fast auxiliaries and escorts. Whatever we do we can’t get into a gunfight with these boys.”

Commander Jones frowned slightly at that first part but waited for his superior to finish.

“ Admiral Sir, we can’t be sure that they are not supplied with Macabeean Air to Air Missiles. Whilst we may have the advantage in numbers that can quickly be culled off if they can shoot at us and then scoot back into their SAM envelopes, which may extend as far as 800km based upon those B-6 reports. God knows how they get the radar over the horizon, but the AWAC’s tracked the missiles until they were approximately that far from the enemy formation during Otium Aqua.”

“Well what do you suggest instead then?”

“Sir we could use our Option 4.”

“You suggest that we nuke them?”

“Yes Sir. The enemy have shown that nothing is off the tables when they hit Portsmouth, god knows we would be within our rights to retaliate for Stevid’s sake. It would certainly solve this problem.”

“Yes. But then we would have nukes criss-crossing the region and maybe beyond. We don’t want ICBM’s falling all over Gillen or J city do we! No I will not consider that course of action yet, besides the President would need to sign off on it which knowing him would be very hard to do.”

“Just a suggestion Admiral. We need to keep all avenues open.”

A raised eyebrow was his only reply as Evans addressed Jenkins.

“Ok…shoot off the plus fives and put a couple of tankers up early for the BARCAP. We’ll put the rest up on the hour and go to full Operational tempo from then on. I want half the attack birds ready to conduct a strike and the other half ready for fighter duty and I want to be able to clear decks in fifteen minutes. Call the Air Force and get them to put a strike in on these critters whilst we use our satellite links to keep them at arms reach, if necessary we turn and run away. Clear?”

Nods all around the table made him hope so.

RAF LevernHall, Stevid West Coast

The bomber crews of the 485th Bomb Group had been briefed for the mission half an hour before in the base cinema. Now trucks and jeeps drove them around their airfield to the aircraft dispersal points where their SB-22 bombers silently sat. Even on the ground they looked ominious, internal bomb bays filled with a new Anti-Ship missile, the AS-2B.

Each bomber carried ten of the new missiles along with the standard suite of protective measures that would keep them alive if the enemy somehow managed to detect the tiny RCS that the aircraft had. Even at 50km the most powerful lookdown radars had failed to detect them and the figure was 60km for the ground based stations they had tested against in several different countries.

Detection ranges were all in the crews heads as they rotated off the ground one by one, gradually forming up into loose squadron groups as they crossed the picturesque Stevidian coast. It was here that they linked up with KC-135 tankers that topped off their tanks for the comparatively short journey that they were making today.

The SB-22’s were to loop around the Spizanian Task Force and approach it from the north. Their courses would take them 900km distance from the task force as they went around it and they would then close from behind until they reached launching distance of 450km. From there they would retrace their earlier route back home. The Spizanians wouldn’t know what had hit them.

Radio silence was observed as the squadrons left their tankers and continued at maximum normal cruise speed of just under Mach 1. With all 96 aircraft of the group in the air at one time the risk of collision was greater than usual, but the pilots all knew to stick to their given lanes and they continued unphased.

Approximately an hour and a half later, four minutes after the launch of the Kahn Missiles

Seven EB-52I’s of the 9th Support Wing flicked on their powerful jammers at their strung out position South East of the enemy task force. The jammers were some 800km out from the nearest enemy ships but keeping the distance between themselves and the vessels constant as they covered the enemy’s radar display screens with the white noise they were generating. Even though the land based E-3F AWAC’s that accompanied them was tuned to avoid the jamming they still had a negative effect on their radar range so powerful was the active jamming. In addition to the powerful jammers each EB-52’s carried ten AAM-3’s on their wing pylons along with tonnes of aluminium chaff in the bomb bays. Their mission was to distract the enemy into thinking there was a heavy raid inbound from that direction, a direction which just happened to be the direction that the closest Stevid airbase was in. As soon as the AWAC’s detected fighters approaching the group would turn back, the EB-52’s disgorging their chaff whilst simaltaniously firing off their Air to Air Missiles at the enemy fighters. The latter would be guided by their own radars as even the AWAC’s could not penetrate the chaff field that would be generated, leaving the incoming fighters with no chance to see through it.

In case they did get through two squadrons of F-15C Interceptors had just finished tanking and were waiting in ambush positions to cover the withdrawal of the heavy bombers and the single supporting AWAC’s that they would also get their feed from. If any enemy fighters poked through the chaff cloud they would be immeadiately fired upon by the Eagle’s own AAM-3’s. The Eagles themselves had their powerful radars shut down, so that if and when the enemy poked through the chaff cloud they would loose their radar help and then be fired upon without their knowledge.

Meanwhile the SB-22’s closed on the enemy task force now that the time for the distraction to start had come and gone. They were at a distance of 500km when their passive systems started picking up radar waves, indicating that the aircraft should start to lose height to bring it to launch altitude of 25,000feet from where the missiles would take a shallow dive to their sea skimming attack profile.

The complex anti-radar coating on the aircraft would be working well now, deflecting radar waves to dismiss the chance of the enemy getting a return that registered the aircrafts presence, let alone enough to get a lock on. Even as that happened the heat output from the four big turbofans that would usually be used to track for IR missiles was being cooled by Liquid Nitrogen injection systems that put a layer of cold air around the hot exhaust gases being thrown out of the back of the aircraft.

SB-22’s were designed to be undetectable and the only real danger at this range came when they opened the bomb bay doors to release their weapons payload. The bays opened on all the aircraft as they passed the 452km mark and the weapons fell free at the 450mark exactly. From there the preprogrammed satellite co-ordinates would be used to take the missile to its target areas which it would combe for any targets. When it found them the missiles would attack without distinguishing capital ships from escorts, the nearest radar targets would be attacked. However the missiles programming and design did allow them some communication with each other, a technique copied from the Hex series of missiles, to ensure that no more than five missiles would aim at the same target. With 960 missiles now inbound that may have been a real problem that may have lead to less casualties amongst the enemy fleet than would hopefully occur now.

The IH Air Force was determined to make the Spizanians stay in the Otium Aqua, Stevid’s front yard, as bloody as possible for them. If they could force another withdrawal such as they had in Otium Aqua 1 then it would be counted as another victory for the IHN.

Allanea

12-06-2006, 11:21

Official Announcement of the United States President

My dear friends!

Freemen of the UnitedStates! Children of the beloved homeland! You know – as I do – that Allanea had long been a member of the Greater Prussian Empire. You know – as I do – that the Greater Prussian legions are a guarantee of Allanean freedom. They have freed us from the Sentient Peoples’ fascist occupation. They have freed us from the socialist invaders and the illegal rule of Javivalenta. When we needed help, Greater Prussia was there for us.

Today, Greater Prussia herself needs our help. Even as I speak, the foul socialist hordes of Skinny87 and other nations are gearing up to stamp freedom out in the Macabees, as their friends the Questarians reach with their blood-soaked fingers towards the Juumanistran homes. Should the valiant sons of Allanea, her brave daughters, remain silent as the Communist whips rise against our brethren the Prussians?

No! No! No! Never will we soil our flag with betrayal! We are the Allaneans. We never give in. We never compromise. We never surrender. And even now, we will not surrender.

Four hours later, the Congress of the United States of Allanea has signed a declaration of war against the enemies of the Macabees. As I speak, the First Force Projection Fleet, as well as the First, Second, and Third Haven Domination Fleets are heading out to sea.

Remember, communist scum of Skinny. Remember, oppressive neofascists of Questers. Remember, Weigarian rabble. We are the Allaneans. We have beaten Yurka, and Antanjyl, and Zenti, and Aoogah, and Daikatana, and Edolia, and countless others upon the anvil of war with the hammer of power, and we will beat you upon it too, and I promise you, we will beat you into proper shape.

Good night, Freemen.

May God Bless Allanea.

I am deliberately not posting where I am sending the fleets, only that they are being sent. The location of the arrival should and will be determined according to cooperation with other players and their plot ideas.

Questers

12-06-2006, 22:09

HMS Mountbatten

Admiral of the Fleet Laura Cheswick yawned and brushed a hand through her dark hair. Technically, anything past 3 inches wasn't allowed in the QRN, but that had been bypassed long, long ago. It was freezing - the climate control helped control the weather, but it didn't do alot, and although she was still wearing four layers. This hid her... generous figure, of which she knew displeased the Commissariat officer. She, as every other Admiral, hated the Commissariat and she had made it her personal business to tease him at every possible time. She smiled that he wasn't getting any pleasure from this terrible weather, either. Leaning back on the leather command chair, she picked up her book and began reading again. A few minutes later, her personal messager beeped and Laura rolled her eyes. She knew who it was.

01_Hood_FleetADM_RIEW_2113: sup?

She giggled, then blushed slightly as the entire bridge crew turned around. The personal messager was for Admirals to communicate upon matters of business. She swore that Riew fancied her - that or he was just being his usual cheeky self.

03_Mountbatten_FleetADM_CHESWICK_2115: Freezing, that's what's 'sup'.
01_Hood_FleetADM_RIEW_2113: If it wasn't for this bloody war, I'd come over there and...

She rolled her eyes. The fourth time he had promised this. The cheeky little bugger!

03_Mountbatten_FleetADM_CHESWICK_2115: Let me guess, you'll warm me up? That sounds awfully like what you said two hours ago.
01_Hood_FleetADM_RIEW_2113: Jesus, you are dirty aren't you? I was just suggesting giving you a nice warm sausage roll...
03_Mountbatten_FleetADM_CHESWICK_2115: Mhm. Is that what you northerners call them nowadays? I bet it's alot smaller than that, anyway...
01_Hood_FleetADM_RIEW_2113: WTF :O you dirty bitch!

She giggled again. Oh, she did like Riew, and she was pretty sure Riew liked her too (he had once referred to Cheswick as a 'bloody cocktease', among other various winks and nudges.) Not that many higher ranking officers in the navy did. She was only a few years older than him, having excelled herself somewhere enough to get rapidly promoted. And now, on tour in Greater Dienstad, in service of the Crown, watched over constantly by these Commissariat bastards. And in command of a giant battlefleet - an investment worth more than the GNP of many small nations.All told, some eight hundred aircraft, some sixty battleships, and thousands of destroyers and cruisers. Then there was Renown and Repulse, similar sized ships with similar sized fleets, after reinforcement from the 3rd Colonial Group had arrived. Some two and a half thousand ships in all. Her very career rested upon her performance in this conflict. Now was time for the proffessionalism the Royal Navy was built on and known for - very failure here could mean massive disrepect for her country in international circles. Laura had learnt to think for herself, the result of a very libertarian upbringing as th son of 2nd Viscount Cheswick, but she was a patriot nonetheless. Hell, the only non-patriotic Questarians had fled across the border.

'Ma'am, encrypted message from the MOD here for you.' The Communications officer barked across the room.

'Alright, alright, I'm coming.'

She pushed herself upward and stretched her arms, making sure to give the Commissariat officer another teasing view before arriving at the Communications post of the bridge. The letter was being faxed out slowly, each word painfully decrypted. Laura had taken to biting her nails recently, as had most navy officers. War was stressfull. Drugs, mostly always cannibis, were commonplace too, after all, who cared if a senior officer possessed a spliff or two? (Or sixty, in her case), it was healthier than drinking or smoking, anyway.

A bleeping signified the return of the message and Cheswick grinned and eagerly ripped it from the fax machine.

FOR THE EYES OF FLEET ADMIRAL CHESWICK 3118, 03 MOUNTBATTEN
To be destroyed after read.
Your orders, Fleet Admiral, are to steam south and engage the Spizanian fleet. Your fleet will be providing the relief for the retreating Hitmen forces. You will organise with them in the field. Objective One is to destroy the OPFOR. There are no other objectives. By the Grace of God, crush the enemy totally. For the Motherland.

Laura whistled, and crunching the thing up, put it in her pocket for later disposal.

'Communications Officer Durham, please establish me a speaking link with this battlegroup.'

Durham nodded and replied with a confident 'Aye, Ma'am.'

Laura returned to her seat and flipped up the microphone on the desk, leaning forwards into it. She coughed, a hacking cough that had returned from her childhood to plague her again. 'Fucking cough.' she said outloud, absent mindedly. 'Uh, Durham, is this thing on?'

Durham nodded and gave her thumbs up.

'Bugger. Well, fuck the formalities then...'

HMS Tang Hall

'...Comrades of the Taskgroup Longsword, this is your Admiral speaking. Three days ago we arrived on station in Greater Dienstad. Tommorow, we will be engaging the Spizanian fleet off Otium Aqua. I have been ordered by The Ministry of Defence not to give one cubic foot of water to the enemy. My orders, which come directly from His Majesty himself, are to advance and destroy the enemy. Objective one is to annihalate the OPFOR completely. Good luck.

Questers Expects Every Man To Do His Duty. God Save the King'

The message came reverbrating through the destroyers hull into every compartment, with a little bit of lag. The sailors were excited. Finally, they'd be sailing into battle.

A chance to avenge Her Majesty.

Stevid

13-06-2006, 21:21

Ministry Of Defence, Stevid Capita, Lowlands Road

The MOD was now in high spirits, never in the past eight months have the personal within the building felt so relaxed. The top brass even had smiles on their faces when they would wake up for work in the morning. The only thing that had dampened and increasingly good mood had been the nuclear attack on Portsmouth harbour. The Otium Aqua Sea was now almost totally secure of enemy units, the odd enemy submarine would comb the sea looking for allied shipping to sink but other than that the Royal Navy had prevailed in containing the sea. The oil fields that used to belong to their long lost ally Guffingford were now in the hands of the Royal Navy and consequently the oil rigs were now controlled by the navy as well. The rigs were now well protected by self-defence measures and by the Navy and allied forces in the Haven Pact.
The fact that Questers had now joined the fight was a lot more encouraging to the MOD, the Questers fleet was now steaming through the Otium Aqua to make it’s way to it’s first naval action. By going through the Otium Aqua Sea it guaranteed some protection of the new oil fields. Stevid had come away on top in its objectives in this war. Not only to protect Zarbia and Safehaven (still on going) but also steal Guffingford’s oil fields that lie in abundance in Guffingford’s waters, now they were under Imperial control- Stevid had to still fulfil it’ obligations to Safehaven and her allies in this war.

News had reached the MOD that Stevid had engaged the enemy in the sea south of Safehaven with an accompanying fleet belonging to Independent Hitmen. IH forces had indeed launched missiles and aircraft against the enemy fleet. Such news was always comforting to receive but with prospects of the war increasing in international intensity and with other nations pledging their allegiance to one side or the other. The political climate was not something to be pleased about since the region was only big enough to contain one superpower and it’s alliance. To many were getting involved and the war was now spiralling towards damnation and utter turmoil. It now had the potential to kill every human being in the region and all it would take is a simple step. The step up from conventional to strategic operations.

History had already been made in this war, war that many leaders had promised not to use nuclear weapons against each en mass. Such a leader was the one sitting smug in The Macabees. Stevid had become the first country in this war’s history to be the victim of two tactical nuclear bombs that utterly destroyed Portsmouth Harbour and broke the back and beached a super dreadnought of the Royal Navy. A terrible thing for any human being to endure in a lifetime but the population had coped with it well. And now this new nation Oceanaira started throwing it’s weight around, it seemed that the government had no end of troubles with these marauding nations and it was annoying them. Such as was the policy of the current government- kill them. Any nation pledging it’s allegiance to any country outside the Haven Pact in the Golden War of Succession would face the wrath of Stevid’s most potent and most high-tech naval force in it’s history.

With Stevid and IH forces engaged in the south and IH and other allied forces engaged in the North as well, the Haven Pact was on the offensive in the sea for the first time on a whole during this whole. Stevid was going to see it through to the end.

Allanea

17-06-2006, 11:12

Aboard the USS Allanea

“Men! Be prepared!” - Grand-Admiral Raddington was standing in the bridge of the Superdreadnaught, but his voice could be heard anywhere aboard the ships of the Armada – 1,600 Allanean warships and countless minor craft, moving majestically into the Aqua Optium Sea. “Ready your guns! Clean your uniforms! Soon, we will be doing what every Allanean sailor dreams of doing – we will be doing battle with the enemy! We will purge the Questarian oppressors from the surface of the sea, we will chase their allies back to their communist shitholes, we will burn their homes, we will have sex with their wives and teach the resulting children to play football!”

“Aye, Sir!”

Aboard the USS Britney Spears, there was a powerful clanking sound as the rounds were fed into the 30-inch electro-thermal chemical cannon, heard ever over the low hum of the Zealous-class craft's engines. The sailors heard, and they were doing their job as instructed.

“Men! Be prepared!” - repeated Raddington - “Those scummy, statist suckers are thinking they are going to fight the Spizanians, who are outnumbered by them at 350 Spizanian ships to 2,500 Questarian floathing bath-tubs! But they are wrong! They are not going to fight the Spizanians! They are going to fight the Allaneans! And you know what, men? They may have us outnumbered – they have 900 more bathtubs! But we sure do have them outgunned, and, God willing, we will have them outdone!”

Aboard the USS Hell on Water arsenal ship, the sailors laughed as they heard this, and they also saw the command screens in their bridge light up: MISSILE TUBE 456-A ARMED. MISSILE TUBE 450 ARMED. MISSILE TUBE 250 ARMED. SHIP READY FOR SALVO.

“Men! Be prepared!” - the Grand-Admiral exhorted. - “I will not hide it from you, it will be tough. But I put my trust in God – and in you, my sailors. Because I know that you are Allaneans! You are Freemen! And I know that we – will – prevail over those statists, and, God Willing, we will destroy them and their fleet! Because the Good Lord hates statism in all its forms, and I believe He has sent us, the Allaneans, to punish the guilty and protect the innocent. And by God, we will do our best.”

From the Nest of Wasps CNV, fifty F/A-18's rose for CAP duty, watching the water for Questarian and other enemy battleships. They were carrying airborne torpedoes, and, as the Admiral exhorted, so were they prepared.

Aboard the USS Rikki-Tikki-Tavi

The SSK was unseen. It was invisible. It was God's own underwater hunting gun, and it was ready to do it's job.

And deep in its steen bowels sat Communications Officer M. R. Jones, tapping away at a keyboard.

*Now talking in #deployment
*Topic is “This is an encoded Allanean Navy Channel. It is only accessible by Navy users. If you're here and you are not a Navy user, you're probably here illegally.”

<Rikki-Tikki-Tavi> Well, we have just entered the Aqua Optium Sea.
<USSBritney> Aye. How soon do you think the shooting starts?
<Rikki-Tikki-Tavi> Probably earlier for me

The SSK's were in a semi-circle before the main fleet, a dozen kilometers ahead of it, spread out along a very, very wide front. The idea would be that they would engage the enemy earlier then he would be expecting an Allanean attack. Whether that would work or not remained to be seen of course.

<USSBritney> Well, I hope you guys leave something for us after you've done PWNing them.
<Rikki-Tikki-Tavi> You people can always hit them, baby, one more time, you know.
<USSBRtiney> LOL j00 R so funny

Independent Hitmen

19-06-2006, 13:26

IHS Twilight, Daedulus Class Dreadnought
The Otium Aqua

Things had gone from bad, to better and back to bad for Fleet Admiral Evans and the IHN 7th Fleet. First the Spizanian Force had threatened the Otium Aqua, but the timely arrival of the Questerian Fleet had seemed to nullify that threat, especially after Evans’ conversation with their lovely commander.

But now a huge armada from Allanea was being tracked by satellites about to enter the Otium Aqua. The huge movement of ships had caught the eyes of the satellites and the technicians that sifted through the millions of pictures that they generated everyday. Within minutes of identification the information had been sent to Evans, who was now talking with the Questerian commander to determine a new plan. That the Allanean Fleet had closed so quickly was worrying, however soon they would be visited by the IH Air Force if they continued to close, but the sheer number of vessels meant that their attack would not halt the advance.

Allanea was an IH ally of old, back in the days of the NCA had the two nations been allied, but they had drifted apart and now it was war if they wanted it to be, as they seemed to but charging into the Otium Aqua. Allanean propaganda showed the Haven Pact as communists, something that had caused a great amount of laughter in both Stevid and Hitmen homes, true one of the Hitmen’s longest allies, Russian Forces, were communists but the Hitmen themselves were far from it.

But if they wanted a fight they would get it. Although not quite yet. The 7th Fleet was now “steaming” North at maximum fleet speed of twenty nine knots. The fast auxiliaries were staying with the fleet whilst the heavier slower ones had turned for Stevid with a scratch escort.

But now things were turning even worse.

Watchman Seven, E-2CI Hawkeye on BARCAP patrol
On the threat axis to the Spizanian Fleet

Watchman Seven was one of five identical E-2CI’s operating to screen 7th Fleet from the Spizanian threat, now about 950km away. They were far enough away that they couldn’t detect the enemy vessels or aircraft but they could detect the radar emissions that were being given off by them. There wasn’t enough to classify them, just the faint readings that gave a rough position, confirmed by satellites every few minutes. They had considered sending a Raptor out to try and get a fix on some radars but that plan had been scrapped with the change in tasking of a pair of ELINT satellites that were passing low over the area t catalogue enemy emissions. From that they would be able to determine some standard operating procedures of the hostile forces and hopefully classify some radars. You could fight something you knew a lot better than something you didn’t.

But now Watchman Seven had more pressing concerns. Namely the newly acquired radar contacts that were on the edge of the operator’s screens and behaving oddly, almost as if there was a large object on a parachute, descending slowly. The senior controller copied the display onto his screen and looked at it for a brief time.

“What’s the range on the contact?”

“Fringe of detection Sir. Call it seven hundred. Too big to be a personal one from an ejection.”

“Very well I’ll call it into the Operations officer. Bearing?”

“Right between us and their estimated position Sir. Suspicious looking too. Could it be those Khan’s we have heard rumblings about, possibility this is their separation from that huge booster.”

”Could be, I’ll call it in. Vector your birds closer in.”

“Affirmative.”

The controller changed his comm. channel to the four orbiting F-22S’s that accompanied this AWAC’s and ordered them to advance some more towards the contacts. Meanwhile the senior controller contacted the Air Group Boss on New Sussex.

“Homebase, Watchman Seven. We show several contacts on our scopes. Possibility that they are long deployed missiles. I’m requesting you shoot off the plus fives.”

“Watchman Seven, Homebase. We copy your contacts. I’m looking at the screen now. Shooting off the plus fives. Co-ordinate with Watchman Nine and Twelve.”

“Affirmative. Out.”

Within half a minute Watchman Seven took over the identification procedure for the possible targets. Her four fighters moved forward cautiously and were joined by four more and one of the other orbiting E-2CI’s to try and get a better fix. They needn’t have bothered, because no sooner were the aircraft now lifting off from the 7th Fleets carriers appearing on their screens than the targets started accelerating.

“Vampire, Vampire Vampire. Definitely missile’s, my count is fifty on bearings two-four-eight to two-five-one. Wait make the count fifty five. Speed, Mach 2 and accelerating.”

The call went out to the carriers, which abruptly started launching more aircraft into the skies. The twelve F-22S’s already heading nearer to the contacts went to burner to close quick enough to engage with their AAM-3’s, whilst the majority of the BARCAP also headed in that direction. The AWAC’s platform kept track of the missiles as they made their shallow descent, vectoring their fighters in towards them with the gap rapidly closing. The missiles were 500km from the formation when the lead F-22’s rippled off their AAM-3’s at maximum range. The fighters broke high to allow following aircraft to also launch their missiles.

The AAM-3 was guided by the pencil thin beam of the AWAC’s on targeting frequency, but the Khans were now travelling far faster than the aircraft that the AAM-3’s were designed to hit would ever do. The result meant that of fifty missiles launched in the first two waves only five registered hits, with a sixth damaging the missile causing it to fall out of the sky and impact the waves below.

The newly launched fighters managed to get off the carriers and come to burner to launch a third wave of inbound missiles that accounted for four more inbounds before the Fleet SAM boss ordered all his systems to go fully active. The powerful supercomputers aboard the cruisers on the threat axis were using the feed from their own radar systems combined with that of the hawkeyes. They watched as a few of the monster disappeared, but not quick enough for the SAM bosses liking. On his order the systems were switched to automatic mode allowing the improved AEGIS system to control itself, quickly interrogating the nearby fighter aircrafts IFF systems to make sure they were friendly. When that check was completed, in less than half a second, the radars interrogated the inbounds and began to assign each a priority of destruction.

The cruiser Aclimit was the first to launch. An SM-3 shot out of one of her VLS cells and rocketed upwards, turning over and heading towards the incoming threats followed by more of its number as the inbounds crossed the 120km mark. The AEGIS system was in shoot, shoot, shoot, look mode. Three SAM’s were fired at each inbound contact and the computer then looked to see if it had been destroyed before launching any more. There was a problem though, combined the ships of the 7th Fleet had only one hundred and twelve SM-3’s and after they were used up they would have to revert to the normal SM-2 SAM’s. The Khans were moving at sub Mach 5 still, within the SM-2’s probable hit parameters, but it would have been better for the force to have more SM-3’s.

The SM-3 was an evolution of the SM-2. The warhead was enlarged to become completely fragmentary and the software had been coded particularly to face a high speed incoming ballistic missile launched warhead. The missile would perform also against high speed cruise missiles as the warhead detonated far enough in front of the inbound target to shower it in red hot shards of metal.

Even so the Khans had their own defence systems and this knocked out some SAM’s before they detonated. But still Khans fell, now there were only fifteen left on the screens as the second wave of SAM’s sought to engage them. The missiles crossed the 50km mark as the second wave of SAM’s was fired up into the sky to meet them. They were now in range of SM-2’s from the outer sonar pickets of FFG’s and DDG’s which were added to the basket controlled by the AEGIS systems and the monstrous supercomputer on the battleship Iowa upon which the SAM boss was located.

As the second wave reached up it became apparent that the SAM’s probably wouldn’t kill them all, so across the formation chaff rockets were fired off and jamming systems turned up to max. The CIWS guns were also activated, 35mm on most ships but on some of the older vessels 20mm, their own radars tracked in on the area of air told for them to do so by the computer systems aboard each vessel. The 35mm had a longer range than the smaller 20mm, which today would save ships.

The second wave of SAM’s killed more Khan’s as those targeted on the capital ships raced over the outer pickets. In one case the destroyer Martin destroyed a missile as it flew within 100metres of her, the point defence systems reaching out to destroy the missile in a deafening boom just before it accelerated to terminal velocity.

It worked out that nine missiles escaped the SAM’s and AAM’s. Of these three were targeted at capital ships and the other six at escorts. Two of those targeted at the escorts found chaff and flares too tempting targets and impacted with the sea sending shock waves through the nearest vessels.

The destroyer Johnathon managed to intercept the missile targeted at her with the 35mm CIWS, but the speed of the missile meant that debris smashed into the superstructure, leaving the ship on fire and with thirty dead.

The frigates 078 and 092 were less lucky. In both cases the huge anti-shipping warhead carried on the Kahn obliterated the vessels, leaving only floating debris in the water. The destroyer Carol was also hit, her inch turret became a ballistic object as it shot nearly five thousand feet into the air when the missile impacted just below it.

Of those targeted at the capital ships, one was decoyed away whilst the other two mercilessly targeted the battleship Harrison. Both evaded the 20mm CIWS fire by their sheer speed and impacted at the water line of the Improved Iowa. The armour did little good as the warheads exploded, taking nearly three quarters of the ships company down to the bottom of the sea with her.

With the initial attack over the SH-60’s from the carriers began conducting Search and Rescue (SAR) operations. The Fleet was still sailing North at full speed to link up with the Quester’s force operating in the same area. A quick communication back to Gillen lead to another mission being laid on for the B-6’s and SB-22’s as soon as they returned from their attack run.

The sheer size of the Khan meant that the Spizanians were unlikely to have many more in their fleet armoury, not many VLS cells could take something that big, and they would take up a lot of room on a vessel. But to guard against that, more fighters were put into the air, establishing a barrier some 200km from the Fleet with E-2CI’s and a pair of land based E-3F AWAC’s in close attendance.

Allanea

12-07-2006, 20:29

Official Announcement of Victoria Sheshet, United States Secretary of State

Dear Friends! Citizens! Allaneans!

It seems that the previous administration has committed a number of serious mistakes. One of them was joining the war in Greater Dienstadt. While indeed we have treaty obligations to help the Maccabees, we also have treaty obligations to support other factions in this war. It is not possible to intervene at this moment. It is also impossible for us to spare any soldiers now from what is taking place in Syskeyia.

As such, we would like to give our sincere apology to the people of Questers and Havenic Pact nations. The fleets are being diverted as we speak

But we will do more then just divert the battlefleets. As of now, cargo craft with humanitarian aid are being flown to the Questarian capital, to aid those afflicted by the war. Similar craft are deployed towards the Maccabees and other heavily afflicted countries.

Further, I would like to personally visit Questers, for the purpose of negotiating a peace agreement.

Thank you.

Good night,

And May the Messenger Bless Allanea

Allanea

25-08-2006, 21:32

Somewhere in rural Allanea

In Allanea, you never know.

The random Star Trek fan club could be a simple Trek club. Or it could be a Trek cosplay club. Or a Trek themed cosplay-sex-party- club. Truly, Allanea is a dangerous place to be in.

The Gush Katif College Trek Club, for instance, had not a single Trekkie in it – as a matter of fact, scheduling appointments with the club for Trek events would be entirely impossible, and the gates were always closed at the suburban mansion that housed the club. This was because the GKCTC was not in fact a club. As a matter of fact, every 'harmless trekkie' in it worked for the CIA.

And right now, they were engaged in a top secret mission.

Martha was typing away at her computer, the strange symbols on the screen changing at an insane pace. George was standing right behind Martha Newton and pretended to inspect her work. In fact, he was inspecting the nudist hacker's breasts. Unfortunately, the CIA Mission Commander was getting nowhere nearer those breasts, mostly because he didn't share neither of Martha's hobbies – computers and ferret fishing.

Fact was, he had no idea what ferret fishing was. In the meanwhile, he was doing his usual thing and trying to seduce Moira Smith. Moira Smith was sitting at an opposite compute, waiting for just the opportune moment to launch the Linux-operated brute-forcing computer program. This had to be launched from another PC, because Martha didn't use Linux.

Moira was into hacking – and Greek Mythology. George Gertoff was into Shadowrun, himself, but he knew who the different gods were, and this proved enough with Moira. Mind, Moira was nowhere as beautiful as Martha, but "one deals with the tools, circumstances, and personnel given" is an old CIA instruction phrase.

In the meanwhile, Mike and Avery were providing perimeter security to the 'compound' – or, rather, passing a weed cigarette from one to another at the top story, as everybody knew the compound would not be attacked.

This was why they didn't get to hear Martha scream:

NOW!!!!

Moira punched the Enter key with her black-jeweled fingers, and the program began to run.

"We're in." – whispered Moira.

"Ready to download sought software." – whispered Martha as George kissed Moira in triumph.

Half an hours later, several files of a total size of 6 gygabytes were downloaded to the CIA server. Then, the connection would die.

Even if the Maccabeans found out the Allaneans had stolen the Anat, they would not – such was the hope – be able to do anything with it until after the war, and then they likely would not take action.

Such was the Allanean plan.

Stevid

29-08-2006, 19:09

Safehaven

The First Airborne Division now stationed at the frontline in a city of Safehaven had been living it up easy. The Golden Throne’s last wave of attacks had been brutal and unrelenting and most of the naval engagements it had undertaken had been against Stevid in the Otium Aqua. Stevid had experienced the wrath of what was the Golden Throne and survived. The Otium Aqua was under Haven Pact control and Royal Navy administration while the land units now positioned en mass in South Safehaven and this airborne element here in the North had escaped with no damage at all. Either they had been lucky or the enemy did not see the Stevidian army as a threat worth worrying about- the Navy was big and powerful and had held the line against The Macabees but the army had yet to prove its worth. The airborne element was at the fore front of Safehaven’s allied defence, in conjunction with Safehaven city defence forces, the city was being made ready for battle and the possible onslaught of a Macabeian tank blitzkrieg that could smash it’s way into the city. The 1st Airborne Division was not properly equipped to deal with the enemies military units head on but was able to launch strategic strikes into enemy towns and villages and hold out for a number of days before the end.

Now news was coming through of another war that Stevid had become involved with. Kanami had attacked the North Hanover Island Chain Dependency and had occupied the islands before the GDI intervened with a peace deal that led to Stevid’s re-occupying of the islands. This was now over shadowed by the daunting news that the Golden Throne was beginning a new military push into Safehaven, this latest news of a fresh wave of death had been long anticipated but also long feared. Stevid barely survived the last and only with allied help was the Otium Aqua Sea secured. With the Questerain Royal Navy now in the Otium Aqua, things were looking up but many seemed oblivious to the frontline action everyone was getting against the enemy. This time however, Stevid had been preparing. New tanks, aircraft, and ship designs had been made and the recent purchase of the Iron Cheetah/ Cheetah PADSHA Tanks and the full development of the Challenger 3 and 2a meant an extra punch for Stevid against the enemy’s superior tank forces. New aircraft were being made and purchased and the timely arrival of the XF-23 Nightwalkers and the XF-24 Scorpions meant the RAF were not as weak as they were against Guffingford all those months ago. The Royal navy were proud to see the launching of their newest SDN class, the Sanguinius Class SDN that was to rival the Renown Class as well as the launching of the many different battleship classes that now pushed Stevid up the ladder of leading BB production nations.

News of the Golden Throne gearing up hadn’t come too soon to the many Royal Engineers that had arrived to set up their portable RADAR domes on top of the large buildings in the city. The men had had lots of time to fortify their position until a good target had been established and designated as a target. But many troops were wondering whether or not their presence was making a difference on this alliance or in the enemy’s eyes. The Haven Pact now had a rapid response and a rapid attack option with this airborne division to prove to be a potential thorn in the side of the Golden Throne and yet they didn’t seem to be noticed by the Stevidian Military, allied forces or the enemy. The locals had realised their presence and had thanked them for support but the frontline, while close, was well over a hundred miles away so the threat presented by Stevid was there but comparatively small in the grand scheme of things- the whole division wanted this attitude to change.

A collection of officers in the 1st Division stationed in the city of San Menendez were drinking in a local bar on this hot weekday afternoon. The division regularly got breaks due to the drop in hostile action but were becoming gradually infrequent since the Throne re-emergence of hostilities.

“Well, good times are over.” Said Captain Branagn to his two fellow captains gathered round the same table in the beer garden. “If the Golden Throne decide to attack now then I suppose are presence here will be short lived.”

“Maybe, unless the Throne doesn’t consider us a big enough threat.” Replied another. Captain Warne was his name. “Remember that we have lots of troops but not much on the scale of armour and heli-support. We have for tanks and two AH-64 gun ships. The army now have newer tanks and gun ships while we’re stuck here with this old bollocks. We’re not worth the trouble for the Throne.” He finished and placed his glass of Scotch on his coaster.

“We still present some threat.” Said the second captain, Captain Quinn. “We can still make surgical strikes and capture towns and villages with ease. We’ve just got to wait and see what command tells us to do.”

“We’re here for a reason.” Snapped Branagn “I like hanging around with you two and drinking and getting out and about. But I don’t like getting paid for doing sod-all. We came here to fight and that’s what I intend to do. Except command sees it differently. He doesn’t want to go on the offensive until equipment can be brought to bear against the enemy. I know the enemy have a strong position from Mosnoi Bor onwards but we can still attack!”

There was a pause. They were all on edge and tense, paratroopers were usually used as attacking options rather than defence and they all assumed that unless they were attacked and killed they would be used in an attack against The Macabees.

“We concur sir.” Replied Quinn solemnly. “But we don’t have our main attack force of XXX Corps here yet. They are at least five days away and any attack made by us needs the eventual support from large forces. Now the enemy on the far Western frontline is exceptionally strong and the two other Corps we sent are going there. Until XXX Corps arrive I afraid we’re stuck here.”

Branagn nodded sadly. He loved fighting for Stevid and loved winning. He wasn’t lazy and was always on top of his game, he knew war and how it worked, he could coordinate groups of soldiers well and was a natural born leader. He started as a lowly private and never saw himself as a leader but after battles his confidence grew and soon promotions followed him. He wasn’t a Captain for nothing and his lust and knowledge of combat got him to where he was now.

“Okay, but I still insist on…” He stopped in his tracks as did the rest of the bar. A siren was sounding loud in the hot afternoon day. A very old noise that was devised before World War II but had such a distinctive sound that still brought the hairs on the back of Branagn’s neck on end. Goosebumps appeared on his arms as well as other people in the bar and probably around the whole city.
The familiar and daunting rising and falling high and low notes of a stereotypical air raid siren. Suddenly the shock abated and panic struck the civilians who now darted into nearby buildings and shelters for cover. Some soldiers were caught flatfooted and were rooted on the spot as the siren continued. The captain jumped out of their seats and took charge of local allied defences.

“Well you got what you wanted sir!” Yelled Captain Warne loudly so he could be heard over the shouting people and the sirens. They went their separate ways while Branagn raced over to the group of soldiers staring up a clear blue sky.

“Look lively!” he shouted, his British accent quite pronounced when he was under pressure. “Do any of you have a radio?”

One soldier nodded meekly but quickly and gestured to his backpack. Branagn smiled and told him to turn around so he could access the radio. He dialled for the Division’s command centre and waited for it to connect. He looked up into the sky but was unable to see any aircraft. Perhaps bad readings had triggered a false alarm or perhaps the enemy was attacking another part of the city. Then in dawned on him that it might not be the Golden Throne attacking but their allies. It didn’t matter much in the “here and now” part the real thing was that they were being attacked and something had to be done.

Suddenly the radio connected to the 1st Airborne Division’s GHQ and a loud explosion cut down through the radio and made Branagn flinch. The sound the explosion made the soldier jump as well.

“Come HQ, Come in! Report!”

Another loud crackle came from the radio and another series of audible explosions came through until a young female voice came through over the explosion noises in the background. Branagn narrowed his eyes inadvertently in concentration.

“This is HQ,” the young women spoke. “Who is this?”

“Captain Branagn.” He replied flatly, his accent verbally showing. “What’s going on over there?”

“Enemy aircraft are firebombing the area. GHQ is underground and safe from most damage but some of out units have been caught in the open and have taken a significant amount of casualties. Armoured vehicles have taken moderate losses but aircraft seem okay though.”

“Shit! What about retaliation attempts?”

“Negative, they’ve caught us well of guard here. We’re not even sure of the name and type of bomber being used or the nationality. We’ll get an ID soon but with so much confusion we can’t get AA defences up properly.”

“Calm down, calm down. What is their direction?”

“They were heading Easterly but will swing round and head for home.”

Branagn thought for a moment. With they had to turn round then they would meet the AA defences here in mid-downtown San Menendez a top the taller buildings and might run into Safehaven controlled AA and flak cannon sites. He smiled but quickly suppressed it.

[I]“Okay soldier. Just survive and take care of the wounded. Set up a triage area and get the wounded there when the raid is over. I’ll handle the AA attack in this part of town.”

“Aye Captain.”

He put the radiophone back on the dial and then called Stevidian AA Command (SAC) in the San Menendez downtown area. Connection was quicker this time but the noise of incoming bombers was becoming more audible now with his own ears. The connection was made and a man answered the call.

“SAC here.”

“Hey, this is Captain Branagn. Look GHQ has been attacked and the enemy bomber force is heading home. They’ll be making the turn back near here so I need you to make so snap decisions and organise what AA defences we have here and use to best effect. We have no air support that’s five days away…just do what you can for now. Prove your worth.”

“Yes sir.” Replied the man at the other end and the radio clicked off.

Branagn breathed in deeply and then a sigh of relief followed, captaining was stressful and difficult but was great when it worked well in practise rather than theory. The bombers were black dots minutes ago and the explosions were many miles away but now the humming of the bomber force was more pronounced and loud. Shouting from nearby AA sites started and the crewmembers start their electronic and visual tracking, the same was happening a top some buildings.

Then it began. The bombers were starting a rapid ascent and banking turns for home right over their heads. The faint outlines could now be picked out yet the aircraft and its nationality couldn’t be determined. Mekugi had equipment not far from the frontline and neither did the Golden Throne, it could anyone of the two. Suddenly a whooshing noise of a missile launch came from the top of one building about half a mile away, soon twenty sites start firing what AA missiles could reach targets that high. AA guns also opened up in hope of some bullets reaching that height. Explosions of flak shells exploding in the vicinity of the bomber craft could be seen now as the Havenic AA defences responded to this latest intrusion to their airspace, puffs of black smoke concealing deadly shrapnel started exploding frequently.

Whether or not they would get any bombers out of this would be questionable. The slow reaction of the AA defences and the well timed raid that caught the entire Division of guard meant that maybe no bomber would get shot down. All they could do was hope that some bombers wouldn’t make and allied casualties.

Mekugi

29-08-2006, 21:20

((I appologize for the short psot, personal matters interuptted))

Had the bombers been right overhead but by the time they were over the city itself they had climbed to their maximum altitude and were making a 120 degree turn towards the safe zone several kilometers to the south-west.

The bombers themselves put up a nastily obvious IR signature as they pushed the aircraft to the limit the few missiles being launched were met with missiles of the bombers own, the SA-35 SCRAAM (Short Controlled-Range Air-to-air Anti-Missile) launched four per bomber in an overwhelming act of covering their own ass. This of course was not just to counter Stevin missiles, but those of Safehaven that would surely be present. However at just under Mach 2 the bombers with their distance advantage would be a quickly disappearing target.

The F-33 however were just now entering the perimeter of the city and though flack was hot their low level made them difficult targets, as well as the fact that they were moving fast with radar off over the deck. When little fighter presence was detected over this part of the city the F-33 were content to strafe at military targets of opportunity as they watched the chaos that began to fill the enemy city below them.

Not all went as planned though one bomber of the Dark cloud squadron burned out during the turn its engine shaking itself to pieces as the rear of the aircraft began to break up the skin peeling from the great black beast sending it into a flat spin and into the city center. This of course was bad situation, though the crew was dead long before they ever knew there was an issue the bombers carried Mekugian writing, and symbols, it would be an unfortunately valuable piece of intel, though not containing any written or code data it would identify the vehicles origin, and potentially worse so, it would show just how advanced the Mekugian Aircraft industry was.

Neither of which were information the Local Commanders would like, but there was little to be done at this point, survival was the primary intention.

The Macabees

31-08-2006, 04:17

Conclusions to the Gates of Hell
The operation had gone rather slowly, with the two infantry divisions slowly carving away at Sarcanzan positions on the two parallel walls. They had been moving ahead of the armour, and as a consequence the armour was moving very fast either. Nonetheless, it was better to move at a snail's pace than to risk the ambush that could develope from moving the armour too far ahead of the infantry. Unfortunately, Fedala was unwilling to send more infantry due to the rising needs in Ruska and Weigar, as well as a new threat which was appearing in Zarbia - the Jagadan 12th Army. Consequently, those three fronts were received far more reinforcements than the Gates of Hell, and operations to the north were suffering. It seemed as if Fedala simply didn't care about what happened in Sarcanza, knowing that when they defeated the others they could easily deal with this rebellion. A pity really, because it had already cost them around twenty thousand men throughout the entire war - surely, nothing compared to other battles, but a hefty amount nonetheless. Irregardless, more and more were dying every day. It was costly to fight such an unconventional war in the middle of a huge canyon that introduced grasslands to desert! And this cost was beginning to pick at the bottom of the Empire's pockets. The next operation would require even more, unfortunately.

About fifty kilometers down the coastline there was a small coastal city called Pir-Sar. It had been built by ancient kingdoms as a fortress city to form some sort of base to patrol the Gates of Hell. This fortress was slowly expanded into a full fledge city, and in modern days the city boasted of around two hundred thousand individuals. The city's protection lay on a large castle-fortress near the edge of the water, and then four ancient and medieval walls. The last of which was built by the first empire itself. These walls were nothing to stop a modern army, but their antiquity was respected and ultimately it would make it harder to come to a decision to destroy them or not. This would become the target of the three divisions that were now entering Sarcanza. They would simply move along the coastline and besiege the three hundred thousand occupants and the sixty thousand or so soldiers based there, and pin them against the wall. A Macabee fleet would blockade the city from the water and they would slowly starve to death while the ground army began limited endeavours to weaken the besieged. Two new divisions were expected to arrive during that time and these would be used to screen the rear and avoid counter encirclement by the numerous forces arrayed to the East. Furthermore, the Empire would have massive air support to aid its cause - that was something that was unlimited.

It had taken all of July and even the beginning of August to crack the Gates of Hell, but they had done it. It was the first time an army had opened them since the conquest of Sarcanza during the early first empire. Unfortunately, there was nothing to keep them open except air cover. The entire corps in the area had to be used in the siege. Nevertheless, around five hundred Cougars now quickly entered the hard sands of the coastline of Sarcanza, and began to make their way East. The infantry mounted up on their heavy APCs and followed. Fifty thousand men prepared to take a city of more than six times their number, and then squash this rebellion once and for all - even if the history of this operation would be lost to the importance of Ruska and Zarbia. The vehicles were enshrouded by dust, which blended into the light and dark overtones of camoflauge painted on their hulls. Nevertheless, the hundreds of black double headed eagles were easily seen from the distance. The Empire was advancing, and when it was advancing it was a very dangerous thing.

Overhead, three squadrons of Lu-12s screamed simultanuously over the end of the Gates; all flying rather low. They were most likely going to bomb some distant target which was moving to block the advance. Whatever moved by day wouldn't get very far; the Laerihans had control of the skies, and while that remained true the Empire would be the dominant force in the area. Despite all of that it seemed as if the army was still experiencing the problems of every day - breakdowns, cleanings, et cetera. The dirt collected rapidly on the treads of the vehicles and these had to be cleaned every five hours or so. Then crews had to be swapped every eight, and at some points the shift had been extended to up to twelve hours to keep the advance going! Orders were to begin fighting as quickly as possible to force the the Sarcanzans back into Pir-Sar.

[OOC: For some reason I can't think of much to write of right now.]

Stevid

31-08-2006, 15:49

XXX Corps

XXX Corps tank and armoured infantry division was famous in Stevid after the Holy Panooly Civil War, after crushing most resistance in the city of Volta they had earned a reputation of getting things done quickly and efficiently in battle. They had landed in Safehaven a long time ago now and had been briefly stationed in the city of Qana before being ordered to the frontline, namely San Menendez city as their next stationing before heading out towards The Macabees and opening up a new front in the South East of the border line in an attempt to punch through to some of the nearby towns on the boarder line. XXX Corps were not ill equipped either, they had a mass of air cover and AA systems that, when finally placed in San Menendez, would make the city a small fortress with some great air cover and defence. That was the plan but there was one problem. Despite powering ahead at full pelt, they were still at least three days away from the city and constant re-fuelling was holding them back. They were well in friendly territory and airspace and fears of air strikes were low, the probability of a strike was even lower.

The highway was devoid of most cars and vehicles since it led all the way to the frontline but the odd car and lorry was seen. Gun ships passed over their head pretty frequently and allied Stevidian aircraft shadowing the convoy of tanks, armoured vehicles and troop carriers and sometimes passed overhead and performed the odd air display to improve morale and keep the troops occupied for the intense journey ahead of them.

News had filtered through that the 1st Airborne Division and Safehaven city defence forces had been bombed by enemy aircraft and the city’s AA defences had been taken by surprise and had only down one or two of the bombers as they turned for home. Casualties on tanks were light and aircraft were unharmed but quite a few troops were either dead or dying from their injuries. If XXX Corps didn’t arrive soon then there was no need for the paratroopers to be there. Capturing strategic towns and villages within the enemy boarder was the whole aim of the paratroopers and the follow up armoured division. Without the airborne element, it would be lot more difficult, if XXX Corps could get there then enemy-bombing runs on the city would decrease quite quickly. But it would be a good day’s trip before San Menendez was relieved by friendly troops.

San Menendez

The strafing from the lighter aircraft was over and the paratroopers picked themselves up to see the total damage. The bombing had caused the moss losses while the strafing had seriously damaged local buildings and infrastructure. The “All Clear” high pitch wail from the air raid siren sounded and civilians left shelters and safe buildings to see the damage. It wasn’t long-term damage but the firebombing had left structural fires and many Stevidian troops dead at the Airborne Division’s GHQ exterior barracks. Commanders and Generals had escaped death while in the underground shelter in Safehaven but the damage had been done. Over a hundred dead confirm due to the surprise bombing raid but an estimate of at least a hundred and twenty-three but could easily rise to fifty in the more concentrated commercial areas were troops were taking their leave term in the hot afternoon sun.

Now the local Fire Brigade was tackling the flames that were being fanned and fuelled by the mid-morning winds. The local air force were now patrolling the area and even reports of inbound Independent Hitmen aircraft to chase down and kill the bombers and strafing aircraft. Morale had plummeted and was sure to plunge even more until XXX Corps arrived- until then IH’s aircraft would have to bolster the troops’ morale just by showing up. Even if they didn’t attack the fleeing bombers their appearance would work wonders on the devastated Para regiment.

Space Union

01-09-2006, 20:34

Space Union High Command, Macabees Theater:

Theater Commander Coshua Inder watched passively as the outside base was in a frenzy of activity. The war in Macabees had been raging for a couple of years now and with the entry of Space Union on the Macabee side and Questers on the Havenite side, it seemed like the war was getting more and more complex by the second. It was pitting ally against ally and foe against foe. Yet the conflict raged like an inferno inside of a forest fire, never wanting to end.

The Commander's eyes began to droop as the lack of sleep began to overtake him. He had got little sleep other than the occasional nap in between the work shifts, no thanks to the integration of the Space Union military presense in Macabees with allied commanders. He had worked his ass off and now wanted some rest for a change. In his dreams, there was no war, there was no politics. It was just peaceful and unimaginably beautiful. If only the real world was like that.....

*RING* *RING*

The buzzer noise on his computers blared aloud as it came alive with the ringing. Coshua muttered a strong sentence of verbal words as he cursed the interruption. He looked over to his computer to see who was contacting him. It was the Mekugians. He picked up the Bluetooth headset and put it on before turning on the Voice-over-IP communications system. The voice messenger read aloud the message for him as he lazily scanned over the writing.

"The first part of the plan has been completed. The 1st Strike has been completed with spectacular success yesterday. Now it is time for the 2nd Strike. Have your aircrafts ready for departure. Now is the time to strike."

The computer voice turned off as the head phones went dead silent. The commander rubbed his temple with his index finger and thumb. It didn't look like he was going to get sleep afterall...

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

Captain Charles, as everyone called him even if that wasn't his name, pulled himself into his bomber seat. His real name was Akash Oper but because of his complexion, which was whitish, most of his friends called him Charles to signify that he was a "White Man". He didn't really mind it as he had got used to the name and it was less of an insult than just a codename. That was his callsign too, if that wasn't somewhat weird.

Charles was the lead pilot of one of the SuB-4 Super Hurricanes of the 23rd Heavy Bomber Squadron based at the airbase. They had arrived only a week before and had been itching for some flying time. So far they hadn't been called up with little action being conducted by Space Union other than some engagements in Aurallic, but that was a long way away and Charles had little interest for fighters like the SuF/A-6 Wraith or the SuF-7 Nightmare. The real workhorses of the Space Union Air Force was the rugged bombers.

Indeed Space Unionist were proud of their Air Force, being one of the most powerful and largest in the world. It was lavishly spent on and it had the most advanced equipment at its disposal. Even the aircrew and pilots were payed far better than other branches did. It was an honor serving in the Space Union Air Force, yet it was a further honor to serve in the bomber section of the Air Force. Indeed, Space Unions valued their powerful bomber branch that was considered the largest in the world.

A combination of powerful bombers ranging from the gigantic and heavy SuB-4s to the stealthy SuB-6s and to the finally blistering fast Mach 4 SuB-5. They were complementary of each other and each served a purpose in the overall success of the Space Union Air Force. Indeed, they were the ones that knocked down the door when a door was needed to be knocked down. The phrase in the Space Union political and military command was "Send in the bombers!"

And today they would prove that they were worthy of the honor. They would be conducting the largest aerial bombing campaign in Space Union history for a long time. Not since the Thomasien War had the Space Union Air Force or the military on a whole engaged in a war, and back then the Air Force wasn't anything special. A lot had changed from those days. Indeed, his grandfather had served in that war, using the old SuB-1 Hurricanes to fight off the Ankhmet. Today, his grandson was not only carrying on his heritage but also flying the heritage of the Hurricane family with the Super Hurricane as its direct successor.

Charles taxied the gigantic bomber to the runway as it cast its shadow that blanketed the earth with a darkness that rivalled the night, even in broad daylight. If one was facing the other way when the SuB-4 cast a shadow, he might think nightfall had arrived. As the bomber turned its final turn allowing it to stop on the runway, a bead of sweat rolled down Charles face. It was sweat from being nervous or being scared. It was sweat of honoring his heritage and his family. The day before he was just another bomber pilot, after today, he would be the bomber pilot that bombed San Menendez back into the state it belonged into: the stone age.

The bomber roared triumphantly as it gave a gigantic lurch and soared down the runway at intense speeds as the runway caused the bomber to vibrate. It was a true reflection of the Space Union aerospace industry, able to construct such a bomber that could take off, even though it quickly dwarfed almost all planes except the largest tankers and cargo aircrafts. It was the largest bomber not only in size but in payload capacity in the world. The mammoth quickly soared into the sky followed by hundreds of more SuB-4s along with some SuB-5s. The entire bombing armada would consist of 3,250 bombers escorted by 6,000 SuF/A-6D Super Wraiths in total. 1,900 of them would be SuB-4 Super Hurricanes with the rest 1,350 being the SuB-5 Sonics. They would come in wave so for the next 24 hours, the city of San Merendez would experience a firework unmatched by any other.

Although for some of the bombers carried a full load of anti-missile missiles (AMM), it was just a precaution. The bombing campaign by the Mekugians had pretty much wiped out the entire cities air defence. The Mekugian fighters would take care of any fighters patrolling the skies over the city. The only threat was from a Heavy Armored Division coming to the city, but they weren't going to be reaching the city until three days from now, plenty of time for the bombing force to leave nothing for the division to protect once they got there. Further, the Mekugians already had a plan to make sure the division didn't arrive, ever. It was only a matter of time now....

Stevid

02-09-2006, 22:04

Safehaven

More and more armour was arriving at Safehaven ports every couple of days but mostly logistical support now on the ground. RFA ships and civilian tankers were moving an awful lot of equipment into the war zone and most was bound for the frontlines were now XXX Corps were only a day away from their targets. While XXX Corps didn’t need the logistical support just yet they might well need supplies and structural equipment. With news of both Space Union and her allies changing their stance in the war, XXX Corps were ever more cautious of attack but feared the city’s survivability at this stage. Two nations with world class air forces had moved against Stevid on the South Eastern front and though Stevid didn’t yet have the man or armoured might to make too much of a difference on the left, it was nerve racking to know that enemy bombers were moving on San Menendez and intended to bomb it to bits. Deadly as that is, it meant that if the enemy moved in ground forces on this front then they wouldn’t have much to defend against counter-attack.

XXX Corps had great cover in the air and their own AA defence systems to defend themselves but unless those units were in the city there was little to do but watch and listen to the radio reports. News of possibly more raids probably sent panic into the civilians and as XXX Corps was advancing down one side of the road, traffic jams clogged the others as civilians fled to city- desperate to survive the bombing runs on their home city. But the news from MI6 and from satellites the Space Union was moving air units around a lot and near to this particular front meant that by the time they reach the city nothing will be left. Orders went out to command centres in Haven City for huge container lorries and huge transports to lug over structural pieces to build temporary firebases, Chinooks were also being use to ship in the more essential pieces for the firebases. Stevid prided itself on the brilliance of their engineers and the use of strategic Firebases, most recently used against Kanami on the Hanover Island Chain Mainland East where over 500 troops and eight transport tanks had hunkered down and defended what remained of the Islands before the Kanami troops withdrew under the ceasefire terms. The Firebase had held on against the odds against a foe that had artillery and superior numbers and had come through. Against bombers then not at a lot could be done but AA systems would still work but Firebases could withstand prolonged fire and used mere metal shed rooms and huge armoured plates as defensive walls, this made the walls of any base constructed cheap, easy to build and better yet- cheap. Shovels and JCB diggers would be used to make small huts and shelter foundations, flat ground to make marching grounds and firing ranges, trench lines and systems and also to “cement” the firebase walls together and create firing steps inside them. Firebases were not designed for comfort and so no one wanted to be injured in a firebase under siege since canteens provided dreadful food under pressure and medical huts had wet and muddy floors- conditions were usually poor but liveable. Besides, firebases were designed not to be permanent and so conditions, though regrettably appalling, were temporary discomfort and only become bad after weeks of living in them. If San Menendez was bombed into ruins then multiple firebases would be erected inside and outside the city and the forces would try and hold out as best they could until further orders were given.

XXX Corps continued to receive reports of casualties from the city’s local defenders and Stevidian Paratroopers and could only send back comments of encouragement.

Qana

Major highways leading out of the city were now full of Stevidian military equipment charging up the road but in the fast lane were hundreds of trucks and lorries of similar size transporting the basic elements that would make up the firebases. News reached quickly of the perilous position that San Menendez was now in and against the enemy. These huge trucks lugged with them the biggest bulk of what would make up the firebase. The heavy armoured plating, “flat-pack” buildings that could be built and erected in mere hours, medical supplies and unit and other equipment such as the relatively large portable CELLDAR emitters and receivers. They were pelting down these large highways at fastest speed these things could muster while local police forces cleared the lane in front of them, since the winds of war had yet to reach Qana or Haven there was a lot of unwanted traffic on the roads that could slow the movement of this equipment.

The more essential parts of the firebase such as the metal sheets that were usually shed roofs were now to be used as walls and wood were being moved into XXX Corps via Chinooks. They would reach XXX Corps in mere hours but would leave the stuff behind XXX Corps just in case San Menendez was destroyed and XXX Corp would have to retreat back fifty miles away from the front until another Para Division could be flown in. The Chinooks were almost totally safe in the air with them so far deep in friendly territory and air cover and with XXX Corps’ top cover, they were safe enough to drop the equipment.

Extra light vehicles like the diggers were being flown in by C-130 transports. The diggers came in all shapes and sizes and so one C-130 would have up to five while another would have just one large JCB. They would get to their destination even quicker than the Chinooks and could land on a short stretch of grass, deploy and head back for more. Also the smaller diggers could be used as part of the defensive wall props to keep the firebase in shape. Only time would tell whether or not the city would with stand the bombardment.

San Menendez

Everyone was hunkering down. Tanks and attack helicopters had removed themselves from the city and out towards the safety of XXX Corps while the troops and AA systems remained to try and defend the city with their Safehaven allies. Some the buildings that had survived were commandeered by AA batteries and SAM sites but city streets were being used to conceal some of the other SAM sites and still allow them to fire at enemy bombers. Flak cannons that had survived were being moved and deployed to better areas and Safehaven radar would now have to work at 100% if any bombers were to be taken out. There was no way of stopping the bomber force but the defenders would still shoot pot shots at the enemy for the sake of it and to show that they weren’t pushovers- despite the facts that they probably would take out any and there was no guarantee of hitting anything at all.

People were rare to come across since most had fled and reports of Space Union looking towards the city meant many ran for their lives in face of the devastating air force that SU possessed.

The GHQ was pretty obscure and well underground but a stray bomb just pretty easily destroy the base and leave parts of the division leaderless. In face of the destruction, division commanders and local defence captains had decided to cover the large general hospital in while sheets and paint before scrawling a red cross in paint on the top. Any guided bombs needed targeting and the hospital could picked out visually from the air. If any building was to survive the next few days it should the hospital.
No weapons were positioned near the hospital to reduce the chances of destruction of the hospital and troops were ordered back to civilian shelters and command bunkers to try and survive the onslaught to come.

Now that they heard Space Union would be levelling the city with several waves of high altitude heavy bombers, they decided that help from XXX Corps was slim and Independent Hitmen fighters would also be a small comfort in the face of SU bombers. They had heard of the purchase of foreign aircraft of the Interceptor variant that could close in behind SU’s bomber force and wipe out as many as possible. Unfortunately those aircraft would arrive in time to kill Space Union’s bomber force and too late to save the city at all.

San Menendez would probably fall to the bomber assault but would yet to meet ground forces where the Havanic Pact excelled at the moment within their own territory. Another armoured division belonging to Stevid that was heading for the South-central front could just as easily be diverted to the eastern front if things got truly dire and a blitzkrieg was needed to rid the enemy of local airfields. Until Stevidian bombers, a replacement division, or XXX Corps could arrive to keep the city safe from bombing runs- San Menendez would have to brave the wrath of the Space Union bomber force. Many thought that they could brave it, but not survive it.

Independent Hitmen

03-09-2006, 14:37

E-3F Sentry AWAC’s Aircraft, Callsign “Watchpost Four”
Orbiting roughly 200km Southsouth West of San Menendez

Controllers onboard the E-3F were all very wary of possible enemy attacks, especially with the raid that had occurred on the previous day on the town of San Menendez. IH Intelligence had called that a one off, however Stevid MI6 and other assets were lead to believe differently and so the AWAC’s had been brought closer to the city than it had previously been on its patrols in the weeks beforehand since they arrived in theatre.

Slightly nearer the front the displays showed a pair of TWM-1’s, purpose built aircraft that were basically an AWAC’s that looked for ground movement, with their fighter escorts. These aircraft were very useful for assisting all manner of operations, especially defence ones, as they enabled the Havenite Commanders to know where enemy reserves were moving and strengthen their positions accordingly. There were nearly fifty of those useful aircraft in theatre now and the IH commanders were getting good pictures of enemy reinforcement patterns and sharing them with other allied forces.

As for actual power projection via Air Force power there were now some 1,500 odd F-15CI Interceptors and about half that number of F-22’s currently on airfields mainly over in the West of the country. Accompanying these were mandatory AWAC’s and tanker aircraft not to mention the specialist SAM hunters in their F-16CG’s. These aircraft would be use to escort the F-15E Strike Eagles, A-10 Avengers and various other attack aircraft when they began large scale tactical bombings in the near future. Administratively the formations in theatre were the IHAF 12th and 18th AirForces, known collectively as IH SafeHaven Air Command. The strategic bombers, of which many more were arriving as time progressed, were under the command of the IHAF 1st AirForce but for the moment they had a variety of anti-ship missions and were primarily being used for that with the exception of several E- and F-B52’s.

It was one of these EB-52’s that appeared on the screens of several of the radar operators onboard “Watchpost Four”. They steered the beam onto it quickly, the IFF interrogating the contact as friendly before the radar went back to its normal sweep pattern a third of a second later. It was on this normal sweep pattern that it detected several aircraft at fringe detection range, just vague contacts with no vectors or classifications yet. But coming from the direction that they where they could only be a returning raid, of which none were actually assigned to have gone out today, or an inbound strike.

With this in mind the mission commander onboard the Sentry called up IH Fighter Command via satellite and recommended that they began scrambling all fighter aircraft in the sector immediately. The recommendation was taken seriously and IH fighters began lifting off from their bases along with various support elements to keep them in flight.

One of those to take off was the F-15CI of Colonel John Zachari, commander of the 476th Interceptor Group, three squadrons of F-15CI’s and two of F-16CI’s or a total of sixty fighter aircraft. The side of his aircraft carried several different flags that showed his eight kills, Aircraft belonging to Freedom Country, Insog Provinces and the Acre Union were amongst those blotted out of the sky by missiles fired from his aircraft and he hoped to add more kills to it today. To do that he had six AAM-3 long range AA missiles and two AIM-120D mid range missiles, the other F-15’s being similarly armed whilst the -16’s carried four long range missiles and two mid range ones along with a pair of drop tanks each.

As soon as the aircraft began to reach height they were talking with both AWAC’s and tankers in the area and two by two the aircraft topped off their tanks before proceeding towards “Watchpost Four” that was now tracking even more targets in tandem with another AWAC’s that had changed its course to come inbound to track them. Whilst the radar was built to track two thousand targets each, some people thought that there was going to be more than that which was quite worrying considering their were less than five hundred IH fighters available in this area. Hopefully SH2 border defence aircraft would be able to come up in strength as well to deter this apparent attack.

Details were still sketchy about the destination of the attack when the first of the newly launched fighters began arriving near the AWAC’s that were monitoring the enemy formation at nearly 700km distance, the powerful radars in over-the-horizon setting to do so which allowed a good idea of numbers and rough speed but not particularly good quality on the image nor classifications. This small band width search mode was also good at detecting stealthy aircraft and a third AWAC’s was inbound with that exact mission, if it was a sweep then the opposing Airforce might have a line of stealthy fighters in advance of their main sweep that could cause problems if undetected.

With confirmation coming through from both Stevid and SH2 that they did not have returning aircraft the assumption was made that they were hostile and the mission commander on his AWAC’s acted accordingly. All the IH fighters, with the exception of a squadron of F-16’s that remained with the AWAC’s as close protection, spread themselves into a rough line nearly 100km across and began closing range with the hostile force that would probably pass from their left to right as they went for their targets deep in SH2.

All the fighter aircraft had their radars turned off and were using displays that crosslinked the “take” from the AWAC’s to their rear. Even missile launch would be done without turning on their radars, which in the F-15’s case had decided the original size of the aircraft. AAM-3’s would be launched at maximum range of 310miles (500km) and guided in from there by the AWAC’s.

The Macabees

04-09-2006, 17:59

Siege of Pir-Sar, August 2016
The singe armoured division was at the head of the entire march towards Pir-Sar. The corps wanted to make it to the city within three days, and insofar they were making rather good progress. Intelligence had reported that the Jagadan 12th Army had marched north, closer to Sarcanza, but it was still expected that they would deploy somewhere along Zarbia's western border, in order to bolster allied defenses against further Macabee incursions. The mechanized corps continued east unhindered, the giant Cougar main battle tanks racing along with the ocean behind them. The northern areas of Sarcanza were truly beautiful. The coastline managed to keep most of the sand hard, as opposed to what inner Sarcanza looked like - a raging desert [the Matamoscas]. It was almost impossible for one to fight inside the Matamoscas, since there were few who could survive in the 120°+ heat. For example, the border stations with Zarbia were overrun within hours of the attack given the lack of propensity to fight in such heat - and now imagine in the depths of August! The sea managed to bring some humidity and cool winds to the coastal areas, but only the coastline. This is why the Empire decided to fight along this area - given the climate, the majority of Sarcanza's population lived along the coastline, and if the majority of the population was occupied then Sarcanza could no longer fight viably.

Suddenly, in the distance there rose the towers of a huge castle which once occupied Pir-Sar. The Castle of King Ar'thiest, the mightiest foreign ruler inside this continent in Greater Dienstad. Of course, after his death his son was ousted by the indegenous population, which was later, only a few hundred years after, conquered by Atmos, Emperor of the Golden Throne. The castle was the tallest part of the city. The rest were lower condominiums which at some point before the war were some of the most expensive real estate in the region. Now, with the war, prices had plummeted and it was no longer a luxurious place to be. Obviously, the economy of Sarcanza and of the Empire as a whole had taken the dive along with the tourism - but post-war, it would be back. As the armour got closer they could see the walls of the city at over twenty kilometers distance, but they would not be able to get any closer for long. The majority of the armour, and one of the infantry divisions soon flanked the city southwards, attempting to skirt the outskirts of Pir-Sar, where it was known that the rebels had begun to stockpile soldiers for the resistance to the siege.

There were some eighty thousand Sarcanzan soldiers, armed heavily with New Imperial equipment brought from Safehaven, through Zarbia, deployed south of the walls, in a lunar formation, attempting to cover all entrances into the city. Within Pir-Sar there were possibly another twenty thousand soldiers turning what was once a medieval fortress into a new modern fortress. This rebel army, in other words, outnumbered the Imperial corps by almost two to one. It was promised that within the end of the month the newly formed 6th Army Group would enter Sarcanza to aid with further advances. The 6th Army Group was formed by the 11th Infantry Army, the 15th Infantry Army and the 8th Armoured Army. The two former armies were composed of two corps each, with three divisions in each corps, meaning it came out to around two hundred and fourty thousand soldiers in just that. The 8th Armoured had three armoured corps, each with two divisions, meaning a total of three thousand tanks - most of them Broadswords and Cougars, and some of them tanks that were taken off the battlefields in Ruska, such as the KAF-90. Total strength came to what was normally the strength of a single army - less than three hundred thousand soldiers. What was more was that most of these had just finished training, meaning they were all green. Nevertheless, at least it was some form of aid.

By the end of the 3rd day the lead armoured units, coming straight from the west, began to engage foward observation posts of the rebels. Sarcanzans with large towed 105mm anti-tank guns opened fire first, at around two thousand meters, taking the imperial soldiers totally by suprise. Unfortunately, their older, lower velocity 105mm guns failed to penetrate, or even hit, the glacis armour of the incoming armour. Some high explosive shells fired at the same range quickly put the anti-tank guns out of action. Fighting like this continued for much of the night, until the armour was told to stop. Nevertheless, fire fights illuminated the night skies of north-western Sarcanza until the very next morning, where the sun hid the lights of the outgoing and incoming tracer bullets. Even during the night, the Laerihans flew several missions to support the ongoing armour operations south of the city's walls, and to soften up for later operations. GLI-76s and older, slower, Lu-12 Canaries made an almost constant presence over the skies of Pir-Sar, turning the lower portions of the city into a blazing inferno.

By the next morning Pir-Sar had been turned from what was a rebel infested coastal resort town into a true battlefield. The dead already littered the floor. A few knocked out tanks let out a loose smell of burnt steel and flesh. The aircraft had destroyed several buildings outside the last of the medieval walls, and inside as well, although the center remained untouched. Fires raged in civilian sectors. Above all, the fighting picked up almost immediately after the sun bestowed upon this Earth its most loved rays of light and truth. For the most part, however, the night and day were to be used to position the three divisions that would then begin the fateful Siege of Pir-Sar, the first Imperial offensive inside Sarcanza since the multitude of defeats between June and July. It was time to turn this war around, and it was already beginning to do so in Ruska - now it was time to begin to finish the job elsewhere, as well.

Hotel-Nine, Over Pir-Sar
The twelve GLI-76 Falcons, led by Captain of Aviation Dir Legán, moved with style over the bright skies of Sarcanza. They flew low, at less than three hundred meters, and their wings were armed to the brim with air to surface munitions, such as extended range bunker busters, high explosive air to surface missiles, et cetera. Pir-Sar extended over the horizon, its high walls marking it like a dot on the map. Hotel-nine was supposed to make a run over military installations outside the walls, hitting ambush points and generally making the Sarcanzan rebels minced meat. Dir Legán was hoping to do just that. He flipped up his radio switch and said, "Weapons free."

The twelve aircraft split up and began to pound seperate targets almost immediately. Legán's aircraft swooped down like a bird of prey, dropping its bombs on several hardened positions. The more expensive missiles were only to be used when there was a very enticing target - like a motorpool, or something of the sort. It was known that the Sarcanzans were getting armour from Safehaven, but it seemed that this hadn't yet made a presence in the western areas of the provence. Otherwise, the missiles could also be used against high concentrations of fuel or infantry. But this time Legán didn't see any of that. Unfortunately, the GLI-76 were originally built to be used in naval battles, not as close air support, but a replacement for the Lu-12 was desperately needed. However, this meant that the aircraft had no machineguns, although there was a new variant planned - it, however, had not gone into production just yet, and it was not planned to go into production until April of the next year. And so those preforming close air support had to rely fully on expensive missiles and bombs! It was rediculous.

But he saw no targets worth the six or so missiles he had and so he radioed his squadron, "Let's turn around guys. I see no target engagements worth my prime."

"Roger that Dirty Harry."

Fuel and ordnance and time were wasted without those machineguns, but at least something was happening. They would need the new close air support variant of the GLI-76 fast, or the close air support aircraft would not have the edge they needed!

Mekugi

05-09-2006, 01:23

Zarbian Airspace, the Return of the Dark cloud Squadron-

“Sickle One this is Sickle Two come in…”

The tactical data link of the Ravens radio burst to life as one of the wing man of Sickle one tried to reach him. Capt. ‘Chuck’ Williams was focusing on setting the Data link with the Radar of the now Slower moving B-30’s their forty-five dark figures forming a fairly effective air based sensor net. When several of the Bombers opened their air defense Bays Capt, Williams in Sickle One barely had time to respond to his wingman before his RWR or ‘bitching betty’ began filling his cockpit with an alarm.

‘Warning, Illumination Detected’

The female voice was only slightly more calming in its message than the blatant blinking red lights and whining siren. Williams fought to put the right encryption on his radio and prepared to respond, to his wing mate.

‘Warning, Illumination Detected’
“I fucking know already! Shut up!”

“Sir?”

“Not you Sickle Two, Sickle Two this is Sickle One , go ahead.”

There was a brief silence a Sickle Two took a deep breath and began relaying telemetry to the Sickle one.

“We’ve revived a ping from our 8 O’clock position, altitude is not clear but its definitely not our boys.”

“Roger Sickle Two, Parties set boys, get ready for an appetizer..”

The Sickle Squadron spread out and released the safeties on their SCRAAMS two groups of eight aircraft formed side wings to the bombers, with four below and four above the bombers enveloping them but out of the way of the bombers own self defense measures. Williams now underneath the bombers put a call into the leaders

“Sickle Twelve, Sickle Twenty, this is Sickle One I need out to Bank right and bring arms to bear on the signal when you get a return fire at will, and return to the main group where me and Sickle Six will take over.”

There were two pairs of muffled ‘Rogers’ as four flights banked right one high and one low bringing their arms to bear on the weapons, though the F-15/16’s may have had their Radars off the F-33E’s radar outranged them by a great margin the AESA radars stripping the sky of any place to hide, And from that the F-33 postured for the right moment to strike the three fighters were not the real target. It was after all not a hard proposition to just boost to their main speed and be out of range before they could strike, but the AWACS were a fascinating and fragile target, and that’s what the F-33’s focused their assault on them and waited for the F-15.s and -16’s to expends their ordinance wastefully against he prepared formation.

“Sickle Twenty Fox 1”
“Sickle Eighteen Fox 3”

The sixteen craft of sickle flights 3, 4,5, and 6 all fired a pair of their Shadow II BVRAAM missiles at the AWACS’s rather large radar return, the missiles capable of both self homing, home on emission, as well as Home on jam were not ones easily shaken, the Bombers and the F-33’s began deploying their SCRAAMs in response as the IH’s missiles came within range the SCRAAMS at two per inbound bogie. Though short range was augmented by the fact that they were light, cheap and capable of providing highly effective defense against an enemies missiles when used in large enough numbers.

The entire group carrying almost a thousand of the handy ‘mini’ missiles.

Car’Tul, The Empire of the Golden Throne the morning of the San Menendez Raid-

The 9th Special Artillery Battalion was a massive group consisting of some Five-Hundred batteries of Medium Range Surface to Surface missiles was as close as Mekugi would come to deploying the type of numbers that seemed to fill the battlefields in this conflict, the very thought of deploying three thousand of anything let alone supporting that number was astonishing to the Mekugian commanders but then again amidst the controlled chaos of Car’Tul’s former Corn fields now turned fire base they could say very little.

Over one thousand TSSM-4 missiles were ready for launch Part three in what would be perhaps one of the most effect strategic strikes of the war, leaving Auriliac long since forgotten. Though many would assume their missiles were heading towards the city’s center they in fact were soon to be destined towards a much more exposed target, one few would think deserving of such fire from heaven… this target was indeed one though not physically important was the only active target of mention, they were in short about to not only remove San Menendez but to make its pure occupation so bloody that the Havenites, or their allies would never again want to step foot on the cursed soil.

Though the entire Fire base was covered with enough camouflage netting to sweep the seas of any life left, it was no surprise that the huge thermal signatures of the thousands of vehicles assembled here would be a blatant eyesore to any overlooking satellite, but such things were inevitable. Fox-Dart, and Fire-Dart missiles armed the facility capable of taking out even Medium Range Ballistic missiles, cruise missiles or just plane fool hearty Havenite pilots who pushed too close to the encampment. Spreading some several miles in all, composed of smaller encampments with their own local air defense vehicles (Primus Air defense Vehicles, MACLV SRAD, AAA, etc) they also featured three very rough air strips though barely more than a few straight sections of country road they were ideal launch sites for the countries ‘pocket interceptor’ or what the command called the Pandora, A rough field capable single engine jet interceptor.

With local air support, air defense thick enough to fill the air with enough Radar signals to fry an eagle the encampment was at least ‘satisfactory’ considering the defensive nature of Mekugian training they were slowly making their way towards the front line, an intricate train of supplies in protected routes running one end of the country to almost the front lines was now a true reality, and supplies would flood the road bound for all allied troops. It was a slow thing in coming but in the long run it was a winning route, The Macabeas had the might they held the sword at the front, and Mekugi would back them, provide support all the way into Safe haven and in the mean time they would pick off at the enemies convenience slowly, meticulously, they would remove any form of ‘haven‘ in the Havenite pact.

Car’Tul, T-Minus Thirty-Five Minutes to Impact (launch)-

The Unionite Bombers had hit the outer ring of the encampments Radar and thus clocks began counting down, the timing of the simultaneous (or as close as it could be without taking each other out) strike on the city was very close now. Sirens wailed through out the camps as men scrambled to bunkers dug into the surrounding hills or made artificially with hills of packed earth outside each of the 100 smaller clusters of 5 batteries began to ripple launch their missiles each one a seven meter long behemoth carrying a five hundred kilogram semi-penetrating warhead. Though the effect was somewhat like watching the ground spit fire one thousand missiles soared into the sky to begin their somewhat ballistic trajectory, adding to the confusion of the several thousand Unionite bombers entering the screens of the Allied Air patrol.

The missiles arched skyward their courses taking them to a shallow apex before the missiles separated into their second stages. The missiles were not so high as to make them truly ballistic and thus suffered from reduced range in that sense but it also made them immune to most Space based counter measures, yet flew high enough make their ground or air based interception a rare thing. The second stages carried the warhead, a maneuverable rocket system and an inertial guidance system (which went to work put the missiles into their terminal phase) the missiles soaring towards the major roads, bridges and most importantly towards the massive IR signature that was being put by XXX corps. Though they did not know how important XXX corps was to either cause they were the closest enemy target near the city, and were along one of the very roads the missiles were going to destroy.
As they would reach within interception range from ground based systems the missiles diving at amazing speeds towards their targets they would put out chaff and other decoys to confuse interception systems before striking the ground at several times the speed of sound and burying themselves several meters below the ground before detonating, not only destroying anything above the strike zone but absolutely cratering the roadway making it essentially irreparable. Each crater being several tens of meters wide and deep throwing concrete and bridgeheads as lethal shrapnel for hundreds or thousands of feet.

San Menendez would now officially be declared closed.

Stevid

06-09-2006, 11:22

The great roar of a Chinook taking off was deafening to the soldiers and Royal Engineers below, twelve other Chinooks were taking off and a further six were unloading their cargo for the engineers below. The cargo was the remaining shelters and diggers that were needed to put the finishing touches to the first Firebase that had been hastily erected about 200 klicks south of San Menedez as a temporary base to for troops to wait at and for waypoints to be established before the assault on San Menedez commenced. It was deliberately built quickly, that what it was designed for- the thick metal sheets of aluminium that were usually found on sheds or garage roofs were propped up and bolted together to make a large circle round the encampment where the command shelter had been built, next to it was the Damocles Command APC- and amazing piece of detection technology shoved into a tank that was acting as a temporary Air search system until the CELLDAR emitters and receivers arrived that were less than a day away now. What diggers that were already there had dug up square holes for foundations and had created firing steps on the barricades and a system of trenches outside of the boundaries of the camp.

Royal Engineers went four to a crate and hoisted it in to the camp were it was then assembled and taken to where ever it was needed. In this time some of the first articulated lorries were arriving with some of the defensive equipment, SAMs, AA guns, radar domes, and sentry guns that were positioned on major corners of the walls on high mud towers and pieces of wood at scattered around the furthest outskirts of the trench system and some even deployed in the main trenches- two also positioned at the entrance of the command bunker. Behind the camp, further south, were large MLRS units providing a long-range base defence against ground troops. In some of the trucks that weren’t yet at the firebase were self-propelled guns and even transportable flak cannons.

In all this time the soldiers knew that the enemy were just a throws stone away on the other side of the boarder, on the other side of San Menedez- a city that was now becoming ever more dangerous, expectations that maybe XXX Corps could relieve the aerial siege was becoming bleaker and bleaker everyday- XXX Corps had the aircraft to counter most airborne threats but lacked the speed to traverse destroyed and broken land to reach the city before the enemy. In any case, the two would probably clash in the city. This prospect did not daunt commanders in the slightest; XXX Corps had arrived in time to bolster allied Stevidian forces of 24th Foot Mechanised Infantry Division in Volta City during the Holy Panooly Civil War and had become adept at city fighting, the troops that accompanied the Corps were trained rigorously in city fight terrain back home as well as the 24th Foot Mechanised Division (also en route to Safehaven from Stevid) and so would enjoy the destroyed city terrain and broken rumble more than the enemy would, but they had an allied power with the air force from hell. Space Union would continue to be an annoying character in this war but the Corps would be almost safe once it entered the city and engaged the enemy on the ground- enemy bombers would risk bombing their own allied troops to kill six enemy tanks. But the enemy held a good position in the air and could effectively attack with long-range bombers and missiles. Until XXX Corps were in the city, risk of attack was high, although allied aircraft were in the vicinity and attacking enemy aircraft.

It was hot and smoke still rose from San Menedez as the fires from the previous bombing run still burned fiercely in the wind and was spreading to more structures faster than the fire brigades could extinguish them, the 1st Airborne Division were organising civilian evacuation and maintaining a limited air defence as best they could while they waited for Space Unions carpet bombing and destructive campaign to be. The smoke was easily seen from the Firebase and sentries were walking around in two and talking amongst themselves about the city and what they’d expect to hear from it when XXX Corps arrived there. Many thought the Corps wouldn’t advance; the armoured column had continued 20km ahead of the troops and was visible from the base. In fear of not being able to withstand an enemy air attack, they had stop short of their original waypoint area. Whether the enemy possessed long-range artillery are missiles no one knew but they were sure the Damocles Command APC was busy searching for threats to the Corps.

The sentries continued to stare in the direction of the huge city where the smoke billowed, but something was wrong. Another cloud of black smoke suddenly appeared in open terrain, then another, and another before twelve plumes suddenly appeared on the public highway road. Sound travelled slowly but the when the booms of exploding missiles reach their ears they slammed themselves to the floor, others flinched enormously as the ground shook lightly, the foundations of the walls of the Firebase holding firm and strong. An air raid siren now sounded close by at the base and soldiers dart from place to place trying to find cover. A small group of Royal Engineers continued to unload and move crates of equipment. More explosions landed many hundreds of miles to the north, the east and the west. The bombing seemed foolish and indiscriminate but it became obvious why the explosions were scattered so widely when a missile exploded dangerous close to XXX Corps and even wiped out a group of ten tanks that were a bit to near the area of detonation, six exploded, others were stunned and rock by the explosion injuring the crew inside. But the target was the road and not the column which was now scattering rather efficiently away from the road. Obviously the commanders in the tanks had realised what the main target was. The Safehaven infrastructure, roads, railway lines and major highways and other main roads were systematically being destroyed by long-range rocket bombardment. The range and accuracy of these missiles was phenomenal and was like Scud missile attack. More explosions erupted around and on the Corps that was now retreating and scattering all over the place, trying to get as much space between each other and the highway. More missiles struck the Corps and blew away a further ten tanks and damaging at least six more. The missiles were not all destined for the Corps (which was now using anti-missile defence systems it had. The Firebase was also fire it’s missiles at the incoming missiles. Some of the enemy ordnance could be seen with the naked eye before to hit the ground. A series twenty explosions appeared in the sky as AA missiles found their targets in the sky and removed the threat. Ground detonations continued to appear around the city’s roads and multiple explosions were heard up the road as a large concentration of missiles tore huge craters in the road ahead in over a hundred places were smoke then billowed from the craters made.

Many troops had made it to safety now and were lying in the trenches for some protection when a single missile breached the AA systems and landed on the west wall of the Firebase. The resulting explosion knock many to floor and those killed in the blast were thrown from the blast area like rag dolls and landed in a crumpled mess outside of the camp. There was now a massive smoking crater of churned up mud, sand and dust and a huge gaping hole in the western wall. The weak wall defences had yielded and now the edges of the surviving metal sheets were warped, twisted, ripped and scorched. The wall had been accurately breached and thirty people were either dead or seriously wounded from the explosion. But the wall was of no worry to engineers, that was the joy of firebases and the durable metals they used for protection. Wood, metal roof sheets were in abundance at the Firebase and the western wall would have it’s hole filled in within twenty minutes and the wall would be repaired, bolted up and secured with mud/concrete foundations and firing steps within the hour. Firebases were underestimated due to their primitive nature and inability to withstand prolonged punishment, but most of the time it could. It could with stand a 24/7 artillery barrage and, with a good defence of troops and heavy weapons, could withstand multiple tank and infantry assaults with all damaged and destroyed walls easily repaired and made strong again in mere minutes.

The explosions of missile detonations died away leaving the approach to San Menedez scared and deformed wasteland of terrain. Craters dotted the once perfectly smooth approach to the city and black smoke was drifting across the open plains while XXX Corps surveyed the damage they has sustained, it was a little more obvious with the firebase but the troops of XXX Corps had escaped unscathed but it was now obvious that the enemy had the capability to attack the Corps, the city and the roads leading to it. Their offensive umbrella fringed the Firebase and the Corps just enough for missiles to land there and was a scary prospect. But two could play at that game. XXX Corps had bomber support at their disposal and lots of it: B1’s, Vulcan’s, the new B6a Armburst Stevid had bought- all available at an airfield almost two hundred and fifty miles south of the city. Although Stevid didn’t have all the up-to-date bombers in the world, they could certainly be used rather effectively against any enemy.

The armoured column reformed on the highway and was on the phone to Firebase command. The Damocles showed huge craters scattered on and off the highway. Most of the roads had been uttered ruined and was pretty much impassable areas were either intact or lightly damaged. Pockets of space were available around the road that would now force the column to spread out over a very large area. Air support was on it’s way to cover the column and troops while it advanced forward- they simply could sit and wait while the enemy pounded them, they had lost more tanks than they would have like and their burning remains would upset the troops if they stayed. But destroying tanks help the Stevidians, the tanks could be cut up and be used as exterior armour for the Firebase walls- getting to use ERA as wall defence was too much to resist (even if it was pretty useless now that the armour’s main composites had been destroyed)- every little helps. Soon tow trucks were dragged and towing the corpses of the ruined tanks to the Firebase as the column began its advance. It would be a blitzkrieg manoeuvre but the advance had to hard and fast and with the Damocles constantly looking ahead of them it could plot a route to the lead tanks to go around so that following tanks could mimic without getting bogged down in craters. Accident were bound to happen and some tanks would get the movement wrong and fall in a craters and have to power their way out of it.

The tanks started to snake their way through the rubble and churned up earth created by the numerous missile strikes, everyone following the lead tanks as best could. With air support five minutes away they could afford to enter the range that the enemy missiles permitted and with a lot of safety assured. At top speed it would still be a while until XXX Corps arrived at the city, a couple of hours at most and the size of the missiles used against Stevid were abnormally big and destructive and would take some time to reload. At least forty to fifty tanks were considered unable fight, either destroyed or immobilised and would stay put and act and either scrap for the walls of the base or as stationary anti-tank and personnel batteries.

Undisclosed Airbase

The Nightwalkers had already left and were about to reach XXX Corps who were steaming as fast as possible towards San Menedez and now with air cover they were at least 30% safer than when they were stationary in the middle of a missile attack. But not all the fighter aircraft were present over XXX Corps, the XF-24 Scorpions (http://s15.invisionfree.com/Stevid_MoD/index.php?showtopic=92) were Stevid’s answer to a multi-role fighter gap in the RAF. With their deadly Thermobaric bombs (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thermobaric_weapon) as their primary air-to-ground ordnance they packed a real punch and still had the ability to fight air superiority and win. They had taken off already but had proceeded in another direction to the Nightwalkers, about 20° left of the Nightwalkers. Their mission was an anti-ground one and would approach the enemy missile launchers and catching them while their reloading truck supplied the new missiles. Thermobaric weapons were some of the most deadly weapons in the Stevidian air arsenal, and explosion using the air and fuel that replicates and nuclear blast of a low yield but it is not classed as a nuclear weapon and doesn’t have radioactive isotopes that make nukes so deadly. The damage they cause is most horrific to lightly armoured targets such as medium sized vehicles and weapons trucks as well as naval escorts and cruisers. Extreme use of the bomb could wipe out a fleet of naval destroyers or, in this case, a large contingent of mobile missiles. The Thermobaric bomb was deadly and although no one assumed it would kill everything it would certainly cause some havoc if it reached it’s target.

But also lined up on the runway was Stevid’s latest bomber investment, the B6a Armburst strategic bomber. The sleek design that mimicked the B1 Lancer fuselage made it look like a force of B1s but the white colour and other Stevidian markings and colours told it was an Armburst, armed to the teeth with their own array of laser guided Thermobaric bombs. Although the bomber had never been used in combat before and the pilots were itchy for a fight, the Armbursts were only to be used if the Scorpions fail in their mission. 400 hundred of the 600 reserve Scorpions were on their way to the enemy missile trucks in the enemy territory and would be there in about twenty minutes from now. In case the Scorpions failed miserably, the Armburst bombers would finish the job but with only 150 on standby their numbers were limited.

The Armbursts taxied and streaked off the runway and into the sky one by one and formed up in their designated sub-groups and slowly made off towards The Macabees and the enemy missile deliverance trucks, weapons armed and ready to drop.

Black Knight XF-24 Scorpion Group

The overall mass of planes in the air was an amazing sight to see but they had now rearranged themselves into three waves of 200 to attack the enemy. There was no evidence of enemy SAMs or AA guns but one could assume that they were there, the enemy would of course defend their large contingent of trucks with hefty missiles on the back but just how concentrated the AA defences were know one but the enemy knew. Also the enemy probably possessed the means to track and locate enemy aircraft by finding their radar signatures, fortunately for them the allied trucks delivering the ground based CELLDAR emitters and receivers hadn’t arrived yet and so the Scorpions had to use their own radar when the passed out of the Damocles’ radar tracking range which ended seventy-five miles north of the city.

The Scorpions by passed the city, which was buzzing with enemy aircraft right now, and avoided by nearly eighty miles before returning on course to the direction the enemy missiles were launched from and tracked from by Stevid’s more primitive but reliable radar- sometimes older is better. The Scorpions were approaching the boarder and nearing their targets. It was highly probable by now that they must have been detected by enemy radar, if not then it would be long.

The ground was relatively flat and un-featureless so the Scorpion dropped a couple of thousand feet and began to hug the terrain floor to try and avoid being detected for as long as possible but their own radars were on and if the enemy possessed the technology to detect radar emissions then they wouldn’t have much time to get in drop the bombs and get out. The streaked closer and closer to the enemy and then the trucks appeared, camouflaged but IR scans easily detected the large vehicles, hot from the weather and still boiling after the recent launch of their missiles, they red signature lit the board up like a Christmas Tree. The laser guide Thermobaric bombs were primed and ready and the order was given for the first wave to start attacking. Four of the ten hard points were armed with the AIM-9 AA missile, the remaining hard points brimmed with Thermobaric bombs, the eight hard points in the interior Bombay were armed with XLAM (Standard Long-range missiles) missiles in case things got scrappy in the sky with enemy bandits.

Warning lights awakened and sirens sounded as enemy AA weaponry opened fire, the first 200 Scorpions broke formation and dropped all ten of their bombs each on what targets their computers could find. If the raid was a complete success that the next two waves would be cancelled and since the Scorpions lacked the weapons to take out SAMs and AA Guns effectively they would have to cut their losses as best they could, any shot down should risk becoming a prisoner of war rather than dead.

Mekugi

07-09-2006, 16:09

Car’tul, Prior to detection of the incoming enemy force-

As the first satellite overpass of the target areas was being looked over in real time by the commanders of the Car’Tul firebase, priorities were reassigned as the missiles were then reloaded. Though the reloading crews would never know just how close the gap between the launch and the coming of the enemy planes would be the act of firing off the last of the 'ready' would probably save their lives as it limited the amount of ordanence to cause secondary explosions available.

The new priority would be the Stevidan base, with the rest going towards the remaining infrastructure around the city, the Commanders changed the priority from the deep penetrating 500kg warhead to the larger more powerful 750kg semi-penetrating warhead, which would be more than enough to take out any dug in structures. Unlike the Stevidans they knew Thermobaric on open terrain was fairly useless against anything but light vehicles and infantry. The 750kgs of ONC each missile would carry would wreak serious havoc on the base, 30% safer when facing 800 missiles was of little comfort, when combined with a CEP of three meters the missiles would almost be landing on top of one another in the target area.

Car’Tul, Detection of the Raiders-

When ‘AirMac’ (Macabean AWACS) informed the group of the un ignorable mass of planes cutting towards them the Fire base went on full alert. Though there was no way to know they were coming for the base directly any incursion into the area was significant. Each cluster had its own air defense and radar, and when the planes reached within 45km all hell broke loose.

At ~180 kms or about the same time they crossed the Macabean border they would start receiving RWR signals not only from the Macbean Ground Based SAMs but also from Fire-Dart And Fox-Dart Long and Medium Range SAMs. Now this was only about 1200 missiles a absolutely pittance compared to what they would face as they reached within 30 kms of the site with 1800 SA-60 missiles + a quick-loaded 800 Fox-Dart missiles there would be little to any room to fly without something going boom…

Closer still would things get worse Infantry capable of taking pot shots at up to 12 kms, and enough ground based timed flack to make the sky turn black and make the firebase unsafe for citizens to be around they would blanket the sky with the help of 2600 25x135mm guns expending over 5,460,000 rounds per minute, of course they wouldn’t be that wasteful the guns were much more accurate in bursts, but if pushed these were men fighting for their lives.

82mm Dual Automatic Cannons were set up sparsely but frequent enough to make their continuous booming heard miles away expending larger 3.3” shells full of lethal shrapnel into the daytime sky.

Each of 100 clusters-
3x Primus Air Defense Vehicles (SA-60) [6 missiles per]
1x Fire-Dart Launcher [4 missiles per]
2x Fox-Dart [8 missiles per]
4x ‘Icarus’ SPAAG
1x MASTO Long range Ground Based Radar
5x Guigna ADV Variant [4 missiles per]
~9-18x Infantry armed with SA-33E ‘Super Wraith’ MANPADs

Near the Firebase all three ‘airfields’ were scrambling their fighters from dug in hangers in the many sides of the road that make up the countryside. 72 light Interceptors wasn’t much of threat overall but carrying the six missiles they could they took full use of their capabilities. Adding another 288 long range missiles, and a further 144 short range missiles the pilots were ready to fight to the last to defend not only this crucial fire base, but the supply chain it protected.

Independent Hitmen

08-09-2006, 13:36

The Air Battle

The AWAC’s watched the big missiles coming in. They had heard of the use of big missiles to down AWAC’s and similar large aircraft before but did not seriously expect the enemy to attempt it. They watched their fighters whilst a single operator on each aircraft was assigned to track the inbound missiles and warn whoever they came close to.

Unfortunately for the AWAC’s they were the targets. There were seven up, one of which was significantly behind the battlezone acting as a reserve with its radar turned off and the crew just watching the feed from other birds, this would actually help its survival. With the other aircraft targeted by several missiles each and not knowing it their chances of survival looked poor. It dawned on one crew before many of the others as they changed height only to see the nearest missiles change height as well and head straight for them.

A message went out very quickly to the others and a variety of steps were taken, that started with them all flicking on their powerful jamming pods as well as activating the automated countermeasures that they carried. Radar lures, chaff and flares were all pumped out into the sky whilst the aircraft took what evasive maneuvers they could, instructing their fighters to now take control from the seventh reserve aircraft that had not yet powered up its systems.

As the missiles passed the inbound fighters they triggered off a few missiles at them, managing to down five of the big missiles for the twelve missiles shot, but the interception angle meant that no more than this would be hit spelling doom for the big orbiting aircraft and their thirty man crews who kept their transmitting going until the last.

The first two aircraft were both struck on their radar dish, one of which separated from the body of the aircraft and was promptly thrown back into the tail knocking off almost the entire vertical surface and badly damaging the ailerons on the horizontal surfaces. The aircraft would have been still flyable but for the next two missiles which hit the left engine and cabin respectively. The plane broke in two launching half a dozen lucky crew members into the air where their parachutes automatically deployed, albeit one of them carrying a dead woman down with it.

Many of the other crews were less lucky. Two aircraft went down with their whole complement of valuable technicians and operators, not to mention flight crews, whilst the majority of the rest of the crews also died. Ten technicians got out of one aircraft when its engine was hit and exploded but failed to take the wing off with it, the pilot holding it steady for as long as he could before the wing sheared off and disintegrated sending the plane into a violent spin towards the ground some 30,000feet below.

The seventh aircraft watched as its feeds from two aircraft dropped off almost simultaneously followed by three more in quick succession with only brief mayday messages from the crews. Half a minute elapsed before a stunned commander ordered his passive systems turned on to regain some control of the battle and ordered the remaining three AWAC’s from their squadron to launch from the base some two hundred miles away. Using passive radar he could easily detect the emissions from the large enemy force, who had to have their own AWAC’s despite there seeming as if there hadn’t been any earlier in the battle. With the deaths of their controlling AWAC’s the missiles, that were perilously close to their targets anyway, altered themselves to turning on their own radars and finding their own targets.

There was no way to disguise it, the IHAF Support Squadron 12 had just taken fearful losses and control of the battle was in jeapordy with so far no enemy damage to show for it.

Airbase housing 1227th Ground Attack Wing (Special), SafeHaven2

Pilot’s lunches were interrupted by loud speakers blaring for them to return to their squadron briefing rooms for immediate mission orders. The 1227th had been here for three days, long enough for one enterprising ground crewman to put up a sign above the large canteen that read “Cant shoot what you cant see”, their motto. It reflected perfectly the Wings specialized low level flying ability, some of the best in the world, coupled with the stealthy features of the aircraft they flew.

Those aircraft were being loaded in their reinforced concrete revetments with a mixture of cluster munitions, hard penetrators and long range air to air missiles whilst the crews received their briefing, that had only just been formulated, from the Wing Operations Officer.

“Gentlemen, approximately twenty minutes ago our AWAC’s were hit by very long range missiles launched from enemy aircraft. Now we don’t have casualty figures, but you are doing this mission without any airbourne radar support which speaks for itself, you refuel from tankers at Checkpoint Charlie and then again at Checkpoint Hotel on the return leg. Primary targets will be here, the airbases we think the strikes were launched from, you will hit them with hard penetrators and cluster bombs on the runways and taxi-ways respectively. Now you all know the route in, it’s a low level incursion along two previously determined SAM blackspots, you have HARM support from the 224th which will be SAM hunting in the area with their Charlie-Golfs. Total mission time four hours fifty two minutes. Good bombing people.”

(OOC: I’ll post the aircraft taking off in next post)

Gillen Naval Yards, Western Coast of Independent Hitmen

It was just before nine and the morning shift of workers was streaming into the huge maze of buildings and docks that made up some of the principle ship builders in the country. The night shift were leaving at the same time, in war they always pulled three shifts, which ensured that the buses and trains were all packed to the brim with all types of workers.

In the last three days the shipyards had launched nineteen vessels into the silky blue waters that surrounded them on three sides, all of which had been towed to the nearby Naval Base to begin taking onboard crew and weapons as well as having the last of the machinery and control equipment installed. Brand new as yet unsailed Hunter Class Cruisers sat in lines tied up to each other against a pier in varying degrees of readiness, the vessels nearest the dock being those needing the most done to set them on their way. On the quay next to them even more dock workers and naval personnel set about their business loading crates of supplies or one of the other million tasks that it took to get these ships ready for war.

The nearby Naval Academy, one of nine such facilities in the country, was pumping out sailors for specific classes of vessels ranging from New England Class Fleet Carriers through Toryu Class Battleships to the smallest Worker Class Frigates. Many of those sailors leaving the facilites were Naval Reservists who had been recalled for refresher training when war was imminent and had been learning the characteristics and equipment of this new generation of IHN warships.

And it wasn’t just the shipyards that were pumping out equipment, factories around the country were throwing out all of the material needed for war to supplement the huge stocks that were held in reserve. From huge aircraft factories at the TDK Aerospace Plant at Stockton came hundreds of license built F-30 Shinden II Carrier Bourne Interceptors, thousands of F-15’s of several variations and most importantly of all nearly twenty SB-22 bombers per week. The Air Force Reservist crews for those IHAF bound aircraft were also undergoing intensive flight training in both simulators and real aircraft whilst new pilots and operators as well as mechanics and thousands of other ground staff were fully trained. For now the reserve pilots would be taking over from Stevid-bound squadrons in Home Defence, but when there were enough of them the reservists would also begin to be committed to overseas deployments.

Factories and production plants around the world were benefitting from the war, orders had been dispatched to other nations to fullfill orders that simply couldn’t be done domestically; XM-8 Assault Rifles imported from the Holy Empire of Abrams, Challenger IIB Tanks from Toastians, all manner of equipment from CSJ and small arms ammunition from the Kingdom of the House of James were amongst many items being shipped in by the millions of tonnes.

The Hitmen were braced for total war. Shelters had been opened and air raid drills practiced, beach defence sites were manned around the clock with their powerful radar ,and in newer cases Stevidian designed CELLDAR, systems nervously watching the approaches to the country. Whilst invasion was not expected, National Guard and Army Reserve units awaiting deployment regularly practised maneuvers in the countryside serving the dual purpose of reassuring the nation and also training them further for the battle they would probably fight on foreign shores.

The Macabees

08-09-2006, 23:13

Ruskan Airspace
The mobile medium range radar moved along with the movement of the enemy aircraft going into Imperial airspace. The massive bombing raids by the Havenic air force had been more than just a motivating training factor in how the Empire conducted it's anti-aerial warfare, and it could be said that most of them had become experts in the art of surface to air missile warfare between June and August. It wasn't long before the skies lit up with the muzzle flashes of thousands of anti-air artillery guns. Calibres of different types joined in on the slaughter, ranging from 37mm to 155mm, forging a mosaic of different shades of red against the bright blue skies of the Ruskan day. Even with the ground battles ranging below people that had flocked to villages in Ruska, or those fleeing north, or even those who stayed in the major cities, could hear the pom, pom, pom of the guns. It was like a fireworks spectacle, especially when an enemy aircraft was downed. These guns were the same guns that the Havenic close air support had failed to completely wipe out due to the sheer amount of towed anti-air artillery cannons that had been deployed to the area. It was fantastical, and it no doubt blew the enemy out of their minds. Never in history had such a proportion of these guns been seen in action!

Despite what seemed Satan's own army, they were not alone. Simultanuously the mobile Praetorian II batteries that had been filtered in through the border of Ruska and Fedala, and were now deployed with armed units in depth, spat their P.746.B medium range surface to air missiles, and some even fired their P.746.A long-range surface to air missiles. The large bodies of the assailants flew nimbly through the atmosphere and towards their most unfortunate victims. When missile met plane there was a bright explosion and a sound of cataclysmic shatter. The missiles were designed to explode in proximity, so even a close air burst could destroy a fighter - and against bombers they were normally hit-to-kill. It was quite a panorama.

Below, in the towns, cities and villages of Ruska, the people watched, sometimes in horror and sometimes with glee. When they saw an enemy fighter - or what they thought was an enemy fighter - they shouted and hoped for the best. With the Havenic army almost crossing the River Styx, and no news of victory just yet, any small respite in fear was taken advantage of. And today there was much to be gleeful about. Mekugian fighters, in tandem with Macabee ground defenses, tore the first waves of enemy aircraft out of the sky, and the anti-air artillery never kept quiet. They wold be there in each subsequent wave of aircraft, filling the skies with the black shrapnel of their CAPMES rounds. Explosion after explosion would rock the Ruskan grasslands until the very last aircraft was taken care of. Furthermore, there was no love for enemy planes after what Haven had done to Aurillac, and their were vows of vengeance. Already, San Menendez had almost been completely pulverized by the Space Union airforce and by the Mekugian air force. There would be much more slaughter to come.

In Fedala squadrons of Lu-45s and Lu-5s were already taking off, preparing to parry any more air raids, after the Mekugian aircraft were forced to go home to refuel and reload. The squadrons of Lu-27 Condors used against Havenic bombers were also readied - they would soon have to face the Mach 5 aircraft again! The Ruskan Wall would not only occupy the River Styx, but the air as well!

Space Union

11-09-2006, 23:42

Operation Blinding Lightning - Bombing Campaign on San Mendenez

Captain Charles snored loudly as the room was filled with the sound of slumbering. The other four crew members were sprawled either on the bed, if they had made it, or they were just lying on their control panels, drooling over it. The bomber had its auto-pilot on so everyone could get some shut-eye before the bombing run. Only one guy, tagname "Tiger", was awake, monitoring any important activity that might flash. Then again, if anything important came up the entire cockpit would be attacked with a loud, obnoxious voice going "THREAT! THREAT!". There were reports that some crew members got so annoyed and fustrated at the blaring noise, they used the fireaxe in the bomber's cockpit to destroy the the speakers.

Tiger checked the clock, it was 17:32 military time. He yawned quietly so he didn't wake the others up. He had already got his sleep before but seeing the sight of others sleeping had always made him a bit drowzy. Tiger watched as the screen read its normal readings, not showing any incoming missiles or other stuff he should be scared of. The bombers were only 600 km away from the targetting point on San Mendenez and would be coming within range to fire their anti-radiation missiles in about 20 minutes. He pondered waking the others up or to give them five more minutes to sleep and get whatever shut eye they would get for the next 24 hours. In the end, he decided to wake them up. He hoped they would appreciate being alive more than getting an extra five minutes to sleep.

"Hey, Charles, Bang-tin, Pigtail, wake the fuck up!"

The lights turned on around the room as the three were pulled out of their sleep and dream.

"Wtf? Why did you wake us up? We aint even there yet!" grumbled Bang-tin lazily as he tried to fight off the urge to sleep.

"Because I think you all like to keep your asses over your fucking sleep, dipshit."

The other two joined in his grumbling. Slowly they got up and rubbed their sleepy eyes and made their way to the control panel to get seated up and ready for the mission. They had only ten minutes before they would get in range to fire off their missiles. Everyone strapped themselves in and did a short prayer, hoping to god that they would get to see the next day tomorrow and get to fuck their wives or in-the-future wives for another day.

The entire wave of bombers consisted of 270 bombers from the Space Union Strategic Command. They were part of the 1st Air Armada stationed in Macabees. The makeup of the wave consisted of 158 SuB-4 Super Hurricanes along with 112 SuB-5 Sonics. They were escorted by a total of 500 SuF/A-6E Super Wraiths Plus, the most advanced version of the SuF/A-6 Wraith at the moment in the world. It would be capable of outperforming and outfighting any enemy fighters or aircrafts it encounter on the way, though, at the moment there were no enemy forces near the capital thanks to Mekugian bombings and an enemy Independent Hitmen aircrafts were away from the city, being taken care of by Mekugian forces. The city was pretty much a waiting target. But just to make sure, the bomber force had 200 AGM-326C Buzzsaw air-launched air defence suppression missiles. They would target any SAM sites that were left. The plan was to launch them 200 km away from the city, providing enough time for the missiles to strike and annihilate any short-ranged surface-to-air missiles that satellites had identified within the city.

The bomber wave closed in on the city as they neared their mark. At 200 km they would launch the greatest bombing the people within the city had ever witnessed. The 50 SuB-4 Super Hurricanes that carried the air defence suppression missiles opened up their bomb bays and released the missiles from their external pylons as they began to empty out of the monstrous bombers. They immediately ignited their ducted rocket-ramjet engines and accelerated to their target at Mach 4.6. There targets: any SAM launchers that were left in the city. These launchers had been located through satellite imaging of the city from space. A total of 200 anti-radiation missiles were fired into the city as they zoomed to destroy any SAM launchers. As the missiles lit up the entire city, the bombers zoomed in to finish up the job.

The rest of the bombers opened up their bomb bays and jettisoned their missiles off their external pylons. They were all equipped with the AGM-324E Tigersword-E Multiplatform Multifunction Cruise Missiles. The SuB-4 Super Hurricanes had 13,824 of them between them with the SuB-5 Sonics carrying 3,024 cruise missiles. This was a total of 16,848 missiles hitting the city. The city was being hit with a total of 16,848,000 kg worth of HE explosives. And another two waves were being planned to make sure that in the coming years, map makers wouldn't be putting San Mendenez on the map. Space Union would make sure of that...

Stevid

12-09-2006, 21:26

Damocles Command Centre- Stevidian Firebase- South of San Menedez

“Deploy flares, chaff and ECCM pods 1st Wave and break formation. Head back on vector 180 confirm for retreat!”

The air controller on the Damocles had been taken by surprise by the dug in Macabee AA sites along the border. There had been an unearthly amount of missiles appearing right on top of the first wave of Scorpions and nearly sixty were cut down in an instant with another twenty following soon after. Chaos of the screaming followed over the open communication channel has pilots either ejected out of their aircraft or died in the name of the King of Stevid. The controller was doing the best he could but he had lost an uplink from the allied IH AWACS and assumed it had been destroyed along with the others. Orders were difficult to put across but the few surviving aircraft were heading back across the boarder while taking heavy fire. They were still at least fifty miles away from the enemy rocket artillery but had been repelled in only a few minutes. Such losses that they had sustained were unacceptable, intelligence had been fragmented and ineffective. Plenty had been gathered by MI6 and spy satellite on the artillery’s AA defences but had neglected to report the defences on the borderline with Safehaven.

Not all was lost though, the second and third waves were just about to arrive at the border and would be able to be called back, also could be the B6a Armburst Bombers and would be used at a later date, at least until the proper radar coverage from CELLDAR could be established. The trucks carry the equipment were less than half and hour away from the firebase anyway. Soon Stevid would have it’s own coverage and would be able to hold its own in the air.

“Wave two through three and bomber squadron steer 180- confirm- head south and return the base until further notice. Mission aborted, repeat, mission aborted.”

The controller sighed and collapsed back into his chair and removed his headset. He closed his eyes and shook his head. A simple line of AA missiles and guns had been overlooked and had cost Stevid the battle. People always made mistakes and war was commonplace for mistakes to be made due to the enormous pressure on the generals on other commanders. He opened his eyes and stared at the screen again, he was fed up of this job sometimes and hated being so close to the action.

Suddenly blue lines with small arrows appeared and were screaming towards the base, coming from the direction of The Macabees. It was the rocket artillery again. The huge missiles may take time to reload but still had time to reload and fire since the Stevidian attack had not gone through. Now the firebase would be the victim, it fringed the attack range of the missiles and was deep in enough to be a target- this was a problem.

“Oh shit…” he said lazily. And pressed the air raid siren activator. “Okay boys, we have in bound. Start barking orders.” he flicked the loud speaker on. “All hands, in bound ground penetrating missiles are heading towards the base. All personnel are to find shelter immediately- hunker down and expect the worst.”

The air raid siren sounded and as ordered, most people were darted from place to place for cover, vehicles moved out of the base and scattered in the open and the base commanders took to their main bunker. Suddenly the SAM sites and automated AAA guns opened up towards the sky as the huge 1000mm rockets began to fall from the sky. Their speed was phenomenal but did not hide their size as explosions were seen in the air as ten or so exploded in mid flight. AMM’s intercepted further missiles which also exploded and the remaining debris fell to the sky, similar effects continued and not a single missile landed on the base. Soldiers crawled out from under their cover in puzzlement on why the base had been attacked. They wondered if the missiles had been repelled or weren’t targeting the base. Smiles and mild cheers came from areas of the base, some people even walked out into the open as the AA defences continued firing into the sky. While a large number of missiles had been stopped, it was only a small comfort to the controllers in the Damocles- there were quite literally hundreds of missiles in the air and were headed down for the base.

The first couple of missiles smashed into the outer limits of the firebase, the trenches, and buried deep into the ground before the TNT exploded. The mud and the dirt was lifted into the air in huge plumes while taking the soldiers with, the trenches were decimated by the attack and huge caters over twenty metres wide (and sometimes deep) was all that was left of the of the trench system. Missiles continued to fall with deafening explosions, the firebase was now taking direct hit and the deep penetrating bombs were ripping the walls to pieces and makeshift into husks of debris. The command bunker to a close hit and was then partially destroyed as the mud and concrete bulked and collapsed in on itself and on the occupants inside. The havoc continued as men and women stated fleeing for their lives as yet more missiles managed to sneak through the AAA flak and land in the devastated base. Craters now littered the ground and the all the walls had taken multiple hits and were now totally unrecognisable as defences, bunkers had been all but obliterated as the enemy had wasted valuable missiles by blowing up easily destroyable things more times than should have been, the Firebase had drawn an awful lot of fire and had been, quite frankly, erased from the earth leaving a withered husk of dilapidated buildings and collapsed bunkers and trenches. The Damocles Command APC had taken a direct hit and no remains of the vehicle could be seen. The command bunker, while virtually destroyed by the attack, was still recognisable and probably had survivor’s inside- but the base was dead and a new and far stronger one would have to be built just outside the of the now known range of the missiles. They knew where they were launched from and that the missiles had just managed to reach this firebase- it would be enough for a clever man to know the range of those things without having to look it up.

Meanwhile, a small number of missiles were lightly distributed at destroying the already destroyed roads leading into San Menedez, XXX Corps had escaped relatively unscathed and were now right on top of their destination without having to worry too much on enemy bombings or rocket artillery. The mission was far from success but they were on the right path. Cover was strong over XXX Corps and further reserve planes assigned to XXX Corps had a response time of three minutes after takeoff before reaching the Corps. At least San Menedez was nearly safe, it was ten minutes before they reached the city outskirts and entered the now ruined city.

San Menedez

The loud whistles of bombs pierced the air as three men ran into a small building before the street behind them exploded into yellow dust and concrete as buildings behind them had the walls closest to the bomb collapse into a huge pile of rubble in the middle of the street. It was happening all over the city as black smoke from structural fires burned fiercely in the heat. CO2 and dust combined and was terrible unpleasant to those on the ground. Army fire brigades were fighting most fires now and sometimes with the civilian fire fighters who had decided not to leave. Ground penetrating bombs had left many buildings out of power, water and gas. Power plants had already been strategically hit and civilian infrastructure had been hard hit as well. The commercial district, like the residential and industrial districts, was now ruined. Many buildings, while ruined and dilapidated and also abandoned, still stood tall but with walls and huge chunks missing out of them. Some areas that had been the previous target but not the current were just ghostly areas of the city with the faint bangs from explosions in other parts. Buildings collapsed under the strain they had suffered only hours ago. Civilian shelters were covered with debris of destroyed buildings, things were bad and could only get worse. The enemy was now destroying SAMs and those that survived were only destroyed two enemy bombers every half-hour or so, the local air defence planes were either grounded, destroyed or had pilots who were unwilling to fly. The airborne division was now in total control of ground co-ordination and were able to control any remaining SAM sites to the more venerable and slow bombers in the air. Deciding on a tactic by selecting just one bomber and singling out over the rest and overwhelming it with AA missiles in hope of getting past it’s AMM’s. False hope maybe but it was their job to do anything possible to shoot the enemy down with what they had- even if it meant dieing. Morale was low but the continued prospect of allied Havanite forces arriving kept them up and ready to fight when needed.

Space Union bombers were going relatively un-harassed by AAA or allied aircraft and would continue to go on like that indefinitely unless allied forces could be brought to bear on this flank to halt the enemy raids. But why were they doing it? To capture the city or to utterly destroy it? In either case they were wasting ordnance, Space Union was bombing the city to hell and Mukgui was destroying the infrastructure south of the city, if they invaded and occupied the “city”, they would have a serious time trying to advance out of it and into the rest of Safehaven. If the goal was to destroy it, thereby eliminating it as a Havanite stronghold, then they were wasting just as much ordinance- The Haven Pact could use any number of nearby town or villages that were heavily defended- the city was just as important as the rest of the cities in the country. Their shock and awe tactic was working. Psychologically the troops were steadily becoming more and more frightened of an enemy with such dominance in the air and with enough power to level a city.

A wave of missiles struck the Northeastern sectors of the city and parts of the city centre. Massive explosions were heard and carnage ensued the outer defences- communications had broken down a long time ago and make shift radios were being used- casualties were therefore unknown but it was expected to be light. Hardly anyone was in the city and many troops had taken cover a long time ago. Hundreds had probably been killed but 75% of the city was totally deserted. Building damage was devastating and huge pockets of the city that used to be dominated by skyscrapers were now vast open spaces of rubble and large chunks of walls and even entire floors were scattered all over the place. The city was on its last lifeline and had little fight left in it- despite help right on its doorstep.

XXX Corps

The lead tanks had managed to navigate the worst of the terrain and now that the Damocles was destroyed they were relying on overhead AWACS and satellites to give them final directions before moving into the city.

The most daunting thing all the tanks commanders saw was the huge plumes of smoke coming from the city has enemy bombers drooped their payload on the city and headed back. It was no comfort that they would be leaving the danger zone of enemy missiles strikes and entering another danger zone with the danger of enemy bombs. However, this terrain was home to XXX Corps, they excelled at city fighting and movement within the city and the bombings had made it that much more fun for the troops. Not exactly tank friend terrain but the drivers had had good practise in training on in the open were enemy missiles had landed. XXX Corps would be a fierce opposition to meet in the city and had air cover to try and protect it the best they could.

The armoured column had braved huge missiles, watch and heard friend die in the column and back at the firebase, had the prospect of an upcoming battle and the knowledge of enemy bombing raids on the city- but they had made it. San Menedez City. XXX Corps split up into smaller elements and began advancing into the city slowly. Enemy attacks against the infrastructure had been quite accurate and every mile was difficult terrain to traverse, the column took to smaller and less significant roads which had survived the bombings and the highways entering the city had done well against the missile strikes. The main tank column still existed with the strongest MBT’s leading the bulk with lighter vehicles leading troops and other units into other sectors of the city. All elements were moving towards the North Eastern end of the city and would take at least half a day to cross. The NE part was now empty of buildings but also of roads. Road clearance ploughs and dozer blades were quickly fitted to the forward tanks to remove the lighter sized or medium sized pieces of rubble. The hard part was over, the difficult part was about to begin. Air support was called in and mobile SAMs and AMMs were deployed while on the move and air cover giving a nice over view as they moved closer to the battle zone.

Scorpions and Nightwalkers screamed overhead, F-16’s, F-22’s and Tornado F3’s were accompanying them and others were waiting on standby in case things got nasty and difficult for those in the air. XXX Corps had arrived and meant business. Relief was finally here and in force- the city was pretty much lost so one could only really advance as best they could on the enemy’s home territory.

New Firebase (Charlie)

The makeshift parts were arriving but even better were the immediate arrival of the CELLDAR emitters and receivers. While the base was weak, military mathematicians had calculated the precise range of the enemy rocket missiles and had place the base thirty-eight miles outside of missile range. MI6 also provided intelligence on the range of the weapons that strengthened their knowledge further. Mistakes could not be made again, not on the scale of the last firebase (although accidental as it was- losses that high could not be ignored). Large SAMs, AMM sites and AAA guns and cannons were deployed early on and hooked up to the generators. All had their computers intimately connected to the CELLDAR central mainframe and command APC. Tracking became extremely efficient and the missile’s response time improved. This firebase was strong and formidable and not nearly as weak as the last one. The SAMs had their own radars but had smaller range so the missile’s had their own maximum performance range downgraded. But CELLDAR outperformed this. They could see the missiles for a long time before they hit and AA defences could fire more early than if operating on their own. The base would be physically stronger too. Huge concrete walls lined with KE and HE absorbing armour were being air lifted in the next day and would be far more resilient to enemy air and missile attacks than the simple garden shed roof walls used in the last one.

The Damocles was also up and running and was just getting acquainted with the local AWACS, GPS/Spy satellite and CELLDAR radar systems. An uplink was also to be established with XXX Corps and the local allied military airfields soon and so ground and air command and control would be quickly re-established. The passive radar system CELLADR would provide excellent anti-stealth aircraft coverage as well as conventional coverage with AA control as well. This firebase would be Stevid’s frontline base but safe from enemy rocket artillery for the time being.

Destroyed Firebase

Colonel Ames picked himself up from the rubble of the destroyed firebase and looked around the claustrophobic room. Bodies lay on the floor of all ranks, Private to Field Marshal. Men and women and even a pet dog of one of the Generals also lay dead. A huge gaping hole was in the side of the bunker that led out into a very deep crater. Images rolled through his head and blood rushed to his eyes as he staggered out in the light. The wave of dizziness passed and he stood in the centre of the hole and look up. He couldn’t see over the edge but could make out the smoke billowing from other craters and fires nearby. Faint explosions were coming from the north, San Menedez City and the smell of burnt flesh and scorched earth filled his nostrils. He crawled up the side of the crater, mud slipping from beneath his feet as he reached the top and stood up straight. He observed his surroundings and stood stupidly but shell shocked- the earth was blackened and bodies were scattered generously around the devastated firebase. The armoury building was gone and a truly massive crater had replaced it, it looked like a scene from World War I. Muck and filth was everywhere, it was a terrible scene. The trenches were just a series of craters linked with collapsed trench lines.

“Hello!” he shouted. There was no reply and he tried again to no avail. It was a miracle he had survived in the armoured bunker so the chances of anyone surviving here in the open was very small.

He staggered forward towards the vehicle compound to find most destroyed or severely damaged. Engineers lay strewn about the compound, some in some very undignified positions and with missing limbs. Somewhere not really bodies, torsos, legs and even heads were all that remained of some. Ames vomited violently and blood followed. He spat the excess on the blood soaked floor and limbed towards a Land Rover that had amazingly survived the carnage of the missile strikes. The enemy may have wasted a couple of hundred more missiles on than they should have but it certainly meant that the base would never be used again and assured many in the base would be killed. He shook his head to try and clear his blurred vision and took his combat knife and prised open the ignition. He quickly hotwired the Land Rover and revved the engine. The 4x4 drive kicked in when ordered and he drove out of the decimated base and headed south along the deserted highway. The explosions had smashed the wing mirrors and windows but the engine seemed fine. He continued south hoping to run into an allied patrol or base along the way. At least he could say that someone survived the destruction of the original firebase.

The Macabees

13-09-2006, 23:45

Mosnoi Bor

Border Battles; June-July, 2016
The startling Wegari victory at the First Battle of Mons Dei successfully dislodged status quo on the westernmost continent of Greater Dienstad. Fearing instability to their north, and ripe with power lust of their own, the Havenic government decided to simply replace Fedor I, despite their alliance vows to Jonach I. On 5 June almost have a million Havenic soldiers poured into the Empire's southern provence of Ruska, after a suprise bombardment successfully eliminated local fixed air defenses. Confused border garrisons were bypassed or destroyed within two hours of the attack and over fourty thousand Imperial soldiers began their two month exodus north. Heavy resistance was established in towns, villages and cities, but despite their efforts it was all in vain. Over thirty thousand soldiers were encircled and destroyed within the first three weeks of war.

By the end of June the Havenic Army had advanced up to two hundred kilometers into Ruska. The majority of the Imperial Army now found itself north over the River Styx, with only around sixty thousand soldiers south of the barrier, attempting to slow the enemy advance over a widefront. Despite the small number of defendants it took the Havenic ground forces over three weeks to mop up resistance south of the river thanks to suicidal resistance and near constant bombardment of the Havenic spearheads. It was only through the tenacious defense that Safehaven was forced to stop at the banks of the Styx to redeploy, giving Killian and Imperial defenses another two weeks of respite.

Casualty figures for this period of war are hard to come by. The Golden Throne lost at least 90,000 men in the two months. Southern Ruska was originally occupied by 260,000 men and ultimately another 80,000 would be funneled in to provide further resistance against the Havenic spearheads. Therefore, a total of 340,000 men were at some point in Ruska, meaning that just around 30% of the Imperial Army involucrated with Ruska had been wiped out by the Havenic Army - either killed, missing or irrevocably wounded. It's possible that another 100,000 were wounded, although all these would remain at the front in August, 2016. That gives a total casualty count of 190,000 - well over 50%! On the other hand, Safehaven also suffered stupendously high casualties when taking into consideration their total air supremacy and the lack of enemy cohesiveness. The Havenic Army lost at least 30,000 irrevocable losses and another 50,000 wounded. Despite the apparent disparity in casualty figures, the losses were much easier to replace for the Empire. In fact, by August the River Styx east of Aurillac was defended by over 500,000 men - twice as more as had escaed the grinder of Ruska. Safehaven found it difficult to even bring their army to full strength! It would take Safehaven at least another month to put another half a million men in Ruska.

The excessive loss of personnel life bought the Second Empire much needed time. The two months allowed them to introduce their newest weapons. By the end of July the Laerihans [air force], which had been silent previously, was able to regain a limited presence through the use of new Lu-45/B Hawks and Lu-27 Condors. The new Cougar tank proved to be a valuable counterweight against Havenic M88 Badger Heavy Tanks. Most importantly, infantry were reequipped with more modern armaments - the Hali-42, the Ebro anti-tank missile, the DNR-13 recoilless rifle and the new mechanised mortars. All this, ultimately, proved its importance at Mosnoi Bor. It also allowed them to recreate destroyed divisions. In June the Empire fielded about seven hundred thousand frontline personnel on the ground, throughout the Empire. By August this had doubled, and by September quintuppled. Of course, this was unmechanized for the most part, but the size provided enough sheer mass to outweigh their opponents.

Mosnoi Bor: In the Context of the War
By late July Safehaven had deployed its 500,000 men, minus losses, to the banks of the River Styx. He had two major obstacles blocking Fedala in his way - these were Mosnoi Bor and Aurillac. Ultimately, the main target would be Aurillac. Consequently, Mosnoi Bor became a minor playground in comparison with the rest of the war, although in the end Mosnoi Bor would be the most important battle in relevance to the final defeat of the Havenic Army both at Mosnoi Bor itself and Aurillac. It's not effectively clear why Aurillac was chosen as the principle objective for August. One reason may be that Safehaven traduces the Killian deployment as the weakest of the two, especially considering the difficulty in mopping up Imperial resistance post-battle. Following a victory at Aurillac the Havenic forces could have easily cut off the hundreds of thousands of men defending Mosnoi Bor from Fedala, depriving the Empire of one of its largest concentrations of men at the time. It was possible that Safehaven failed to understand the capabilities of mobalization in the Empire, and therefore failed to expect that the numbers of personnel that could successfully defend any given point could multiply exponentially. This would explain why the Havenic operation WATCH ON THE STYX was so small in comparison to that of Aurillac, given the amount of men deployed by the Empire by the time the operation began.

Another reason what the Havenic failed naval attempt to blockade Targul Frumos. It was very possible that Safehaven wished to grab one of the most economically successful port cities in Greater Dienstad before the offensive to take Fedala began, therefore necessitating Aurillac's demise given that Aurillac was the only obstacle near the coast that could derail Safehaven's ultimate economic plans. Even assuming that Safehaven would put their own man on the Golden Throne post-war it's equally as sane that the country would have attempted to integrate the economically prosperous regions of the Empire into their own nation. There are various reasons for the subjecting of Aurillac, but the most important thing to know for now is that it was ultimately chosen over Mosnoi Bor. Mosnoi Bor was to be considered a side show by the Havenic Army. This fact would help in their eventual defeat at these two battles.

However, to avoid having Macabee units reinforcing the defenses of Aurillac Safehaven's commanders decided to fire off an offensive across the River Styx, south of Mosnoi Bor. The offensive was of course a diversion. The task of crossing the River Styx and achieving a limited breakthrough was given to Major General Rafael Fernández and his 48th Mechanized Division. Unfortunately, no clear reinforcements were provided as second echelon troops to exploit any breakthrough achieved, and neither was the 48th truly given an actual objective in the offensive. As a consequence, it would prove to be Haven's first major blunder of the war, as seen below.

Operation WATCH ON THE STYX; August 11th - August 18th, 2016
The 48th's attempt to cross the River Styx began August 11th, 2016, with a heavy assault across a shallow point along the riverline. The division faced superior firepower from the beginning, and only a few of the infantry fighting vehicles made it across the river before they were knocked out. Those that survived were forced to disengage shortly thereafter, and General Fernández was forced to rethink his attempt. Unfortunately, the Havenic general would not learn from his mistake. The next day the assault continued at the same point, expecting different results, and too failed after heavy firefights from one bank of the river to the other. There was a third attempt and finally the offensive exchanged initiative for a lull, and on August 15th there were no major attempts to cross the river. However, events on the other side of the river persuaded Fernández to try it again. On the 15th frontline troops of the 48th Division reported hearing massive engine noises that came from one source. However, aerial reconaissance came up with nothing.

It should be important to note the ineffectiveness of Havenic close air support during the battle. Havenic Rains attempting to provide close air support to attacking units were decimated by unseen anti-air artillery cannons ranging from 37mm to 155mm. This had been the same type of resistance found during the border battles, however, by the time Mosnoi Bor saw the first firefights concentration of air defense artillery multiplied by ten. The only air defense provided at Aurillac were mobile Praetorian II batteries, and these only saw action during the latter days of the battle. Consequently, the ground battle between August 11th and August 14th was almost exclusively fought between opposing ground armies, where the Empire achieved superiority almost immediately. Although casualties derived from close air support operations and bombing runs were proportionally higher than those that came from firefights this was mostly due to the Imperial defensive superiority on the ground moreso than the effectivity of the bombing campaign. This is shown during the FESTIVAL counterstroke where Havenic close air support failed to make a single impact. One of the major reasons that bombing failed, other than the concentrated air defenses, was the introduction of the Lu-27 which could commit itself to hit-and-run air tactics before they could be caught by Havenic AWACS aiding the bomber approach.

Irregardless, Fernández renewed the offensive on August 16th using his M88 Badgers to provide mobile artillery support for the crossing AFVs and infantry. Ultimately, the heavy use of artillery by the Macabee Army forces a division between the armour and the crossing by using smoke extensively. Once again, the crossing failed to dent the defense of the crossing points and the invaders were thrown back across the Styx for the fourth time in five days. This time, however, at least the Havenic Army was able to cause damage to rear echelon defensive troops with heavy artillery bombardments and it was perhaps the last few days of the offensive that the most Imperial troops actually died. The 17th saw a probing attempt, but nothing was achieved and the last major offensive attempt was done on the 18th.

The last attempt would prove to be a total debacle for Safehaven. The assault commenced early in the morning and met heavy resistance from across the river. Attempt to supress Imperial fire by Havenic artillery and tanks was thwarted soon thereafter by the sudden appearance of the Morrigan ultra-heavy battle tank, which was able to successfully stop an armoured thrust across the river and then begin shelling the southern banks, effectively putting a stop to armoured support. By mid-day the Morrigan had crossed the river and the 48th Mechanized Division was put to flight. Thus began operation FESTIVAL, the exploitation of the newly created gap.

FESTIVAL Counterstroke; August 18th - August 27th, 2016
By 1400 Hours, August 18th, two armoured divisions of Arca. I Cougars and Broadswords exploited the gap. Despite attempts to repatch the hole in their lines the Havenic Army in the area did not have the necessary amount of personnel to put up a serious effort without weakening the rest of their line. Therefore, by August 18th the Havenic Army began a full scale retreat southwards. Sudden mass pressure on the Safehaven's eastern wing began to roll up their frontlines towards the east, pushing for a full encirclement of the one million or so men the Havenic Army had deployed to Ruska by mid-August - Safehaven had originally reinforced their 500,000 men with another 500,000 men after they had been introduced to the bulk of the Imperial Army. Between August 18th and August 22nd the Imperial Army was able to bag up to eighty thousand Havenic troops, all of which would become irrevocable losses for the remainder of the war - there would be no prisoner of war swap. Half of these were killed in battle, and only around 11,000 were ultimately taken prisoner, meaning the rest either killed in battle, missing, or simply died before they could make it to the prepared prison camps in the northern areas of the Empire. This proved to be a fatal loss to Haven, who could not make-up the losses without weakening their renewed offensives toward Aurillac.

By August 22nd the Havenic Army disengaged from Aurillac, as well, putting up many rear fights to protect the retreating army from Killian prodding. By August 24th the offensive picked up as both Hailandkill and the Second Empire put as much pressure as necessary to push back the enemy across the prewar borders. But by that time the offensive was already faltering. A lack of proper logistics that could reach far enough to push them across the border caused the Killian Army to literally stop in their tracks by August 27th, and the next day the general offensive ended and a period of rest and recuperation begun. The groundwork was being laid for Ishme-Dagan.

Jagada

16-09-2006, 02:13

Siege of Pir-Sar, August 2016

'Move! Move! Move!' screamed Field Marshall Aoyama Kazukazu from a top of his HMMMV. The desert of Sarcanza came closer and closer into the view of the 283rd Armored-Mechanized Division of the 12th Army of the Monotheistic Republic of Jagada. The hundreds of Challenger 3 and Hastati battle tanks rushed forward a full-force. This was indeed a full-scale blitzkrieg-type tactic upon the Macabee forces at Pir-Sar. Aoyama had been waiting for weeks for the Golden Throne to go after Pir-Sar, he had anticipated that they would go farther north, but when their forces began to make the drive towards Pir-Sar he knew the Macabee strategy was revolving around taking population centers, instead of trying to simply take land. The ten infantry divisions attached to the 12th Army where much farther behind and having a harder time tracking up the northern Zarbia into Sarcanza. Aoyama knew he was taking a drastic risk by dividing his forces in such a measure. The Macabees had air supremacy and he couldn't challenge that--the Republic was sending in Teutonic’s and Sidestreamers but they wouldn't arrive for another month. The few aircraft that they did have, numbering a hundred and twenty in total, was outdated Teutonic Model A's, but they had the capability to provide cover for ground forces--that was exactly why he didn't assign them to defend the Armored-Mechanized Divisions. Aoyama knew even if they managed to break the siege, or literally besiege the besiegers, that if the infantry and the elite Rear Guardsmen didn't arrive to take over heavier combat duty soon, it may lead to a Macabee breakout, or them being reinforced from the Gates of Hell.

That was why what little air support he did have was allocated to his slowly advancing infantry. Though he wasn't foolish, he knew the Macabees would recognize this eventually if not immediately. That’s why he had stripped the infantry of a portion of their towed and mobile anti-aircraft weaponry to supplement his own attachments and thus provide a screen so even if his mechanized advance was assaulted--he could repel the Macabee fighter-bombers. Thus with that he had ordered the advance and even now the Jagite Armored-Mechanized units rushed into the blazing hot Sarcanzan desert. It was also the desert which had forced the Aoyama to choose a mechanized assault. Trying to force infantry to rush across the desert, especially a Sarcanzan desert was suicidal. Only mechanized units had any chance of a quick passage. The Macabees probably wouldn't even expect Jagada to try something so daring as to blitz across the open desert and try to strike them. Especially since the Macabees also didn't seem to think the 12th Army would even move against them.

The Anti-Aircraft detachments were ready constantly, they expected a Macabee assault. The anti-aircraft battalions carried the modified Patriot Missile Batteries mounted on HMMMVs. This would provide excellent and rapid anti-aircraft fire, in order to protect the force while 'on the move'. This would allow the 'Missile Trucks' as they were called by soldiers; to effectively force an enemy to engage them if they had any serious hope of inflicting major damage on the armored-mechanized forces. This would bog the Macabee aircraft down, if not outright destroy them, long enough for the armored-mechanized to be out of immediate danger since the Macabee-fighters would be forced to return and refuel and rearm before trying a second run. This would allow the Jagites time to restock their own weapons, repair damage, and mount a second defense against the Macabees.

The detachments of Teutonics were on constant alert, more so now than prior to the launch of what Aoyama had dubbed: Operation: Thunderstorm. Now they were constantly prepared to launch at a moments notice. The infantry marching across Zarbia with decreased anti-aircraft weaponry would seem like a very tempting target. Since the Macabees probably also knew that Jagada's mechanized forces could only hold them for so long before they were reinforced or some desperate outbreak was attempted. The Teutonic’s job was to make the Macabee's pay for taking the bait. If the Macabees went straight and solely for the armored-mechanized divisions than the Teutonic’s would hold their station. Though if the Macabees launched their assault on the infantry, the Teutonic’s would know prior to the initial strike and meet the Macabees before they reached the infantry. Overall, this would be their task for the next week while the infantry slogged threw northern Zarbia and across the Sarcanzan desert to Pir-Sar, where they would take up defensive and offensive positions for further operations.

The Macabees

19-09-2006, 00:26

Siege of Pir-Sar
Pir-Sar, Armoured Spearheads
The three Broadswords weaved on and off the main road which arched around the gates of Pir-Sar. They had just partaken in the elimination of several anti-tank defensive pits throughout the forefront of the city overnight, and most of the crews were dead tired, but as the morning replaced the moon it seemed as if action still continued. Of course, the night action had been much reduced, as compared to that of the previous day, but one could still call it intensive. The attempt to close the ring of steel which would close Pir-Sar was proving harder than previouly thought. The resistance was a multitude of degrees higher than what was expected from the Sarcanzans who survived the breakthrough at the Gate's of Hell. Furthermore, the armour could not make a wider sweep around it all, given the poor quality of the roads outside the main highways. The Cougars simply could not easily manuever, and therefore prohibited pincer movements around the defenses. Nevertheless, the offensive was continuing due to constant pressure and consistent air support.

The three tanks quickly sped up. They were the vanguard of another attempt to break the back of a four defensive line set up along the road, attempting to stall the offensive. Within one thousand meters the crew of the furthest Broadsword heard a ding off their upper glacis and the tank commander muttered, "Oh shit."

Within seconds of the tank commander's warning the loader yelled through the radio, "HE!"

The tank commander yelled, "Fire!" but it was irrelevent, because the gunner ceded to the order on his own account, putting a large high explosive round right on the position of that towed anti-tank gun. "K.O. buddies!"

Despite the minor victory the gun fight lasted for quite a while. One Broadsword was penetrated on the side armour, and the other two were forced to disengage and wait for the rest of the armoured spearhead, or for some close air support. Finally, both came, and they all saw as two Lu-12 Canaries dropped four massive bombs on the defenses, and then came up again for a strafing run. By the time the aircraft pulled away the Broadswords and Cougars were already up on the line, attempting the breakthrough. This wasn't hard to come by, and within thirty minutes the 4th defensive line had been opened, and they began to roll it up against the city, killing most of the defenders and forcing the rest into Pir-Sar itself. All the while, other spearheads began to close the gap between them and the sea, fully sorrounding the city.

Behind them, they could still hear 105mm and 155mm artillery pounding the parts of the lines that were bypassed by the armour, as the infantry mopped up what the Broadswords and Cougars had done. Small-arms fire spat throughout the entire night, but nothing was as heavy as what was being heard at the current moment. Even in the light of the morning sunrise one could see large white bangs and bright red and yellow fires carving a piece of the sky for themselves and then dissapearing as quickly as they had come. But that was nothing compared to the operations which would seal the fate of the city.

Northern Pir-Sar [City]
The northern areas of the city were relatively untouched, as compared to the southern sections of the expansive coastal town, and south of the walls. In fact, the majority of the buildings on the beachfront were still in tact. That had changed only slightly throughout the night, when Lu-12s had taken their times in strafing runs on company level units defending possibly incursions coming from the sea. The Sarcanzans were ready to install new large coastal artillery bunkers, but the constant surveillance from the air had given them little time to begin building. The situation was near perfect for an Imperial landing in the area. And that's why there would be one. One of the two mechanized infantry divisions would lend their reserves for the operation, putting two infantry battalions on the beach in four different waves. That is, around two thousand combat infantry. The idea was to attempt to tie up several Sarcanzan units defending the city, and allow a breakthrough in the southern sector where the armour was superior to anything in the Sarcanzan armoury.

Their small transport crafts, which were nothing more than hovercraft landing ships, set out from an unconfirmed area in Western Sarcanza and did not take long before they could see the beach of Pir-Sar. During times of peace the beach would have been full with tourists, but now it remained empty, except for excessively placed obstacles and, probably, mines. And so the ships slowly closed the distance, watching as smoke clouds formed when large artillery shells churned the sands of the landing zones. Boom, boom, boom. the artillery struck with a vengenace, tearing apart some iron obstacles, and cuasing some mines to go off preemptively. The strongest barrages were aimed at waiting Sarcanzan infantry, caught by reconaissance.

The Imperial infantry landed right on the tail of the artillery, hitting the sands right when the artillery cut off. The groundpounders stormed through the obstacles, some engineers staying behind to blow paths through them to allow the other waves to go through easier. Sarcanzan 75mm and 105mm artillery began to act now, making one landing ship go up in flames with a direct hit. The moans of wounded men overwhelmed the yelp of those who died, and the edge of the water ran red with blood. It was like the Roman Collisseum, as the litres of blood spilt was soaked up by the warm grains on Pir-Sar's beaches. Imperial artillery continued to strike in effective counter-battery fire, but it could not stop the damage done to the first wave of the attack. Furthermore murder was committed by small-arms fire coming from beachfront property, and machine guns mowed down more than one soldier. Nonetheless, the six hundred or so soldiers that landed in the first wave slowly made progress up the beach and began to storm the seperate buildings guarding them.

By the time the second wave had landed the beach was more or less secured, and the two battalions could continue within the city itself, although snipers continued chaos on the beach themselves. Although counter-battery fire managed to shut off several bombarding Sarcanzan guns there were really too many small calibre artillery weapons in the city to effective allow the advancing Imperial infantry a respite. The noise was defeaning, as men screamed, artillery pounded, and small-arms chattered. There was the constant yelling of, "Son of a bitch!" Or, "Fuck!" There were many holding their stomachs, attempting to cover the gaping hole in their body caused by two or more 7.92mm bullets ripping through it. There were others walking around lacking certain limbs. Of the first wave's NCOs and junior officers it would later be found that only 60% survived the initial landing, although that was good considering pre-landing estimates. Truth be told, it was the first major seaborne landing ever committed to by Imperial troops, and insofar it had gone well.

Unfortunately, it would not last too long. The Sarcanzan defendents, by far, outnumbered the two thousand men landing, and before the final wave could make an imprint on the beach, the 1,500 men already deployed found themselves the targets of a violent counterattack. Thousands of Sarcanzan soldiers put up a tenacious fight along the buildings that lined the beach, and somewhat inwards, and then began to fight to regain lost grounds. Wooden houses became centers of conflict, where hundreds of men fell dead to bullets, and for the rest of the day the fighting in the city really became a see-saw battle with no obvious conclusion. Even by the time the fourth wave had landed the artillery began acting up again, catching many unaware [who had thought that the artillery had been silenced]. It's thought that up to 25% of those landed died that day, and another 25% were wounded at different degrees. What is known is that many of the men were forced to be evacuated on emergency, and by midday only around five hundred men remained, some of them wounded, to defend the little beachhead that was left. It wasn't until 1600 Hours that day that the entire contingent was evacuated from the beach, and that wasn't until massive close air support had officially ended the rebel counterattack.

The debacle had caused around 700 dead in the Imperial Army, and those dead could not be replaced so easily - it would take over two days to get reinforcements. There were another 800 wounded, which meant that only 500 were truly still effective after they had disengaged from Pir-Sar. For now, the battle would have to continue to the south, with no hope of changing the outcome by mounting expeditions elsewhere.

"One Time is Enough"
"Dig deeper!" The Sarcanzan officer pushed his men to dig the foundations deeper. The gunpits were rather deep, and these would soon be sorrounded by reinforced concrete bunkers. The 400mm coastal guns had been moved up in emergency, after the landing in the morning, and by the night's end the beaches would be defended by twelve different dug in batteries, which within three days would be sorrounded by concrete emplacements. Each gunpit had four guns, meaning there were a total of fourty-eight guns arrayed against any possible incursions in the future, whether naval, or ground. The big barrels stuck out of the gunpit as they were brought in, and that by itself looked extremely imposing. The Sarcanzans thought anybody attempting another landing would be a fool, especially considering the loss in the morning. Of course, the Sarcanzans had lost over three thousand soldiers, but in the end they had kept the beach and that was the important part.

The guns were brought in pieces, by horseback, and these convoys were defended by towed anti-aircraft artillery guns and mechanized Havenic surface to air missile batteries. In fact, much had been swept from the south and placed in the north to protect the endeavour, understanding the power of the Laerihans. However, nothing major was encountered anyhow. A strafing run aimed for the infantry, not the guns, and by the time the next surveillance aircraft had come the project had mostly been completed anyhow, with massive anti-air elements arrayed for their defense.

Although a second landing was not yet possible, the Empire had other tricks up their sleeves, including their newer ship, the Vic de Chassenay, and her other two sister craft. They were not the true class, but they were enough to blockade the port city and to begin bombarding it in preperation for another landing. The next time, in other words, the infantry would have direct gun support.

Sidi Rezegh, 6th Army Group Headquarters
The general stared at the photographs strewn across the wooden table to his forefront. He looked at the intelligence officer, arched his eyebrow, and said, "Now, when the fuck did our satellites see this?"

The other man gulped, waited a bit, and then replied, "Yesterday night, sir."

The general looked back at the photographs, looked back up, and with a pissed-off tone asked, "So, these are twelve hours obsolete?"

"If you want to look at it like that," said the other man.

The general's face contorted, "Of course I want to fucking look at it like that! Why the hell didn't you bring me these last fucking night? We do three goddamn satellite passes a day over Zarbia and you could not bring me some fresh out of the oven goddamn pictures, you goddamn lazy son of a bitch." He turned away, stashed the photographs in a drawer in his desk and finished with, "What the fuck are you still doing here?"

With that said, the intelligence officer saluted, the general gave him the vaunted middle finger, and the intelligence stepped out enraged. Not much of respect for military protocol, but that was how Field Marshall Jan d'Ers was. The general rolled his eyes and picked up the phone and dialed a number. There was obvious something happening on the other side of the line and d'Ers said, "Did you get the same pictures I just got?" He waited a bit, "Oh yea, when?" A bit later he said, "You got them before I did? What the fuck?"

He sighed and then said, "You know what to do."

The pictures were of Jagada's 6th Army, which had deployed in the northern Zarbian area. It was still decided that they were going to reinforce the Zarbian border along the West, but this potentially could harm the swing in Sarcanza, since a Jagadan offensive towards Sidi Rezegh could cut off the entire provence from Imperial administration, which could be a potential debacle. Therefore, the 6th Army would be subjugated to intense bombardments, day and night, until they decided to dig in around the border.

Zarbian Skies, That Night
The sixty GLI-34 heavy stealth bombers were escorted by three squadrons of the new Lu-45 air superiority fighters. The large bombing aircraft were stocked up to the hilt with extended range smart bombs, ranging from high explosives to fragmentation warheads to warheads containing anti-tank submunitions. They even carried a small number of beyond visual range air-to-air missiles, while the Lu-45s carried a good number of short range air-to-air missiles. Their task was to penetrate about one hundred kilometers of Zarbian airspace and conduct the introductory bombing of the Jagadan 12th Army, while the Macabee 6th Army Group still prepared to deploy into Sarcanza to conduct an operation behind Jagadan lines to sorround it in Zarbia, assuming the Jagadan Army would remain in Zarbia. It would also work to weaken any offensive effort of the Jagadans into Sidi Rezegh or Sarcanza.

The outlines of the aircraft were almost non-existant when plastered against the night skies of Greater Dienstad, and only when they passed over a star did a shine give away the curveture of the aircraft. The Hawks were a bit more obvious, but even they were near silent when superimposed on the night. It didn't take long for them to penetrate the one hundred kilometers - maybe an hour, more or less. It took even less to complete the violence they were tasked to do. Their bomb bays flung wide open, releasing the dozens of rocket assisted bombs and missiles onto the Jagadan Army. At least two hundred bombs of varying sizes were dropped. Some would explode overhead, dropping thousands of small fragments over the heads of Jagadan infantry, others would release dozens of submunitions with radar guidance, which would seek and destroy Jagadan armour. It wasn't enough to put a major dent in the Jagadan Army, but it was enough to do damage worthy of an introductory bombardment. It would also cause hassle in the Jagadan logistics.

The Lu-45s continued for a little while longer, keeping an eye out for incoming surface to air missiles or bogies, while letting the GLI-34s turn around slowly to head back for home. The airscreen was common air doctrine for the Empire, and although the Laerihans had not made much of a presence in the south to date, they were far from stupid. It was thought that the Laerihans would make its comeback starting in Sarcanza and Weigar, and finally decide the outcome of the war in Ruska by taking advantage of air superiority. As the bombers turned away the pilots could see the impact of several bombs and missiles cutting through the deserts of Northwestern Zarbia. The Matamoscas continued into Northern Zarbia but soon began to be replaced with grassland, which was soon replaced by jungle. In fact, the Matamoscas was one of the most out of place deserts in the world, although it spanned well into Riptide Monzarc and a bit into northern Guffingford - or at least, what used to be Guffingford.

Regardless, there would be much more of this to come...

Closing of the Ring, Pir-Sar, Earlier that Day
The Cougar was impervious to the 37mm anti-tank guns in use by the Sarcanzans, and simply ran over the anti-tank emplacements, crushing steel and bone alike under its heavy treads. The Sarcanzan resistance outside of the city had been more or less crushed in the day's fighting, and now the armour was ready to fully close the ring and begin the fateful siege of Pir-Sar. The artillery had still not fallen silent, and thousands of rounds were being used to silence Sarcanzan artillery and centers of resistance, while the city itself was aflame with the bombardment. Now, after the landings to the north, all of Pir-Sar was equally affected by the war - millions of Reichmarks worth of damage. It was a true tragedy. Nevertheless, the heavy monsters of iron continued on their rampage in the deserts south of Pir-Sar, and anywhere from 60,000 to 90,000 Sarcanzan soldiers would be trapped within the city's walls, and slowly killed by constant artillery pressure and close air support.

The lead Cougar had finally passed the last center of resistance and the tank commander opened his hatch to look through his exterior binoculars. The driver tugged at this pant legs saying, "What do you see? What do you see?" He could only see a limited area in front of him through his optics, and he was interested in knowing the daylight was like, given that he had been fighting for the past twelve hours - more than common doctrine suggested. The tank commander whistled and then went back down, simply saying through the radio, "We made it. We have hit the ocean, baby!" There was a cheer and the tank commander relayed the news to his commanding officer, who would tell his own commanding officer, and so on and so forth until it reached headquarters at Sidi Rezegh. The iron ring had been finally closed, after two harsh days of fighting.

There had been a series of violent counterattacks but they could not stop the spearhead, and they had all been pushed back into the city. Soon enough around thirty thousand infantry would be covering any gaps along the encirclement and they would dig in, in preperations for a long siege. It was decided to cut off any offensive efforts until the rest of the 6th Army Group arrived, and with the losses of the attempted landing division reserves were extremely low. It was best to end the successful offensive and dig in for the defensive. If anything, they would starve the rebels to death. For now, around four hundred tanks were free to commit to operations in the rear, and to anchoring the flank which was open to Sarcanzan offensives from the outside. They were also guarding against possibly Zarbian incursions into Sarcanza, knowing that Zarbia had thought Sarcanza as disputed territory for centuries! Truth be told, a Jagadan invasion had not been thought of, before it happened, and this would prove to be crucial to the future of the War of Golden Succession.

As afternoon turned to evening one could see hundreds of Imperial flags being propped up around the city, declaring a state of siege. Camp fires were lit and troops began to dig foxholes, trenches and artillery pits, getting ready to starve Pir-Sar to surrender. From a long distance 155mm artillery continued to light Pir-Sar on fire as shells crashed into the already ruined buildings. Smoke rose from the houses, the apartments and the tall modern skyscrapers. In fact, the most moder buildings, with their glass exteriors were all black ruins, with their glass shattered from floor to sky and some of the irons and steels bent out of shape. It was a miracle that they had not yet fallen down, and that would have been fatal to not only Sarcanzan soldiers, but to civilians. Fortunately, the civilians had been brought out of the building.

Nevertheless, the war continued and violence spilt the blood of the innocent...

Skibereen

20-09-2006, 02:36

OOC: Sorry for the Crappy post I just want to get back rolling.

The North Sea Route
The Skibereen Joint Task Force "Ching Shih's Raven" had been more greatly slowed by the weather then they had originally anticipated and by all calculations there was now 980 kilometers between them and what was now most certainly hostile forces.

Ching Shih's Raven was comprised of just over seven hundred vessels, seven hundred sixteen surface combatants to be precise, with one hundred five submarines.

The Ching Shih Raven spread its wings over roughly four hundred square kilometers of the surface while the those beneath the waves were even more spread out both ahead and behind.

Alarms sounded on the Warlords as the threat of the Jagite fleet became unavoidable.

There was no ay for the entire fleet to cicumvent the enemy.
So what was about to ensue was a massive game of chicken. One that might end in a horrible scene that would leave each nation with a story worth tewlling and a song worth singing, in reality no man wants to be a hero.

The fleet at this distance made full speed(for a fleet) at twenty-five knots. There were no straglers the formations would hold at this speed, and at this speed the Vampires could match and still maintain stealth. The other submarines would begin falling behind but the vampires would maintain their distance doing what no other submarine could, run near silent at making twenty-five knots.

The Ching Shih Raven surface vessels immediately began chatter boxing.

All coms opened and all radars went hot.

A CAP went up from the fleet and AWACs began working they were bright as the sun, as a matter of fact the level of chatter was huge, every system was engaged that could be, right down to having an early chow so the microwaves heating coffee, vents were opened and hot gases plummed out creating a volcanic infared signature.

This was common among Skibereenian battle tactics in that one would never be certain if they were bluffing about their numbers or if they were trying to appear to be bluffing.

As this went on the vessel began to make rapid position change drastical altering what would be the confrontational horizon.

Carriers to the rear, masses of Destroyers, then cruisers, then the Battleships, then a picket of Frigates groups would slow and others thrust.

The objective was simple, agility, motion tended to stay in motion and so CHing SHih's Raven would take her form until the final moment possible.

Would the enemy be confronted with the massive seven, or with a hundred Destroyers, it was unclear.

As Skibereen had no naval tradition barring the Slave wars in the 18th and 19th centuries --which essentially made their naval history one of piracy meant that it was indeed completely unpredictable.

Beda Fromm, Maccabee Empire
The Marine Naval transports had done their job.
The Massive Drake family of Vessels had gave the Skibereenian Raider force unprecendented time to theater.

Twenty-eight thousand infantry, One-hundrd twenty Aquila Negra MBTs, Four Hundred-thirty AFVs(Stoat Family), Twenty Negro Leon HBTs, and four Diablo Negro Super Heavy Battle Tanks.

The City of Corzar became the rearward point of operations.

The column began moving towards La Mure in Targul Frumos the objective of the force was to create organized resistance against the opposition forces.
These men had come prepared to cache weapons, they were the best trained, combat seasoned men in the Skibereenian Raiders and for one thousand of their rank their primary skill set was as force multiplers in assymetrical warfare situations where they were the soft side.

these men were doing what Boru had taught so many in Skibereen years ago, these men turned occupied peoples into guerillas.

In Corzar fifty of the one-thousand remained behind with a caches of weapons of r SKibereenian forces who might end up mounting a withering defense, what these men would do while they waited would be to establish a repoire with the locals, and instruct on properly executing a guerilla resistance, their lessons included improvised explosive devices, sentry killing, field survival and cellular networking to name a few.
These citizens would know how to destroy bridges and poison foodstocks as good as any Skibereenian given enough time. It was some aid that the Macabee were a militant people as it were.

North of Corzar a Skibereenian SOF platoon would make its way to the City of Beda Fromm to cache weapons and start the same type of training.
All in all the SKibereenians sent twenty over strength platoons of Special Operation Forces for the precise purpose of instructing the Macabee people on resisting overwhelming force.
The remaining twenty-seven thousand troops were to offer immediate resistance and execute offensive raids against opposition lines.

They would move from Corzar, to La mure, to the city of Targul Frumos then up to Iyrea to move into the Ruska province.

Space Union

20-09-2006, 22:27

200 Km Outside San Mendenez:

Charles and his crew laughed with joy as the explosions rocked the city, for away in the horizon. All four of them cheered on as the city was hit by a splendid attack, straight from Space Union with love. The city had been hit by over 16,000 cruise missiles full of 1,000 kgs of HE explosives each. It had been estimated that 25% of the city had been reduced to ash and rubble before the Mekugian run. There was no doubt that the 75% that hadn't been reduced to rubble before was now just a pile of dust.

The entire massive bomber fleet turned around as the last of them dropped the remaining cruise missiles from their pylons/hardpoints or from the inside of their gigantic internal weapons bay. Indeed, the bombing run had taken place over 200 km away. The first strike had come from anti-radiation missiles that had destroyed the entire cities air defence network, primarily targetting the SAMs, considering the AAA or flak couldnt' reach the altitudes nessessary to score hits against the bombers. But even that hadn't been enough to not ensure any losses. Six SuB-4 Super Hurricanes had been struck by SAMs and all them plummetted to the ground as burning wreck. There was no reports of any survivors. 24 brave men had been killed in that alone. Two other bombers had been reportedly struck and damaged, but would be able to fly home, hopefully. 2 crewmen had died in that episode. The total cost was $6 billion worth of damage and the lives of 26 brave men.

But the effort had been worth it. Operation Blinding Lightning had destroyed the city of San Mendenez and sent a blow to the Havenite Pact. Although the city of San Mendenez had been flattened into nothing and had sent shockwaves into the front as the enemies now realised that they were within reach of being wiped out from the air. Indeed, the destruction of San Mendenez not only sent an economic, political, and military blow to the Havenite pact, it did even worse. It was a psychological blow. The destruction of a key city would no doubt send morale plummetting within the Havenite ranks and allow them to realise they were not safe from attacks. The enemy could bring the fight to them. With the loss of morale, it would hopefully help out the guys on the ground, fighting the war.

The bombers turned to base as each bomber crew toasted to the victory as they soared away from the former great city. The XXX Corps had arrived within it, but that was no use. All they had left to guard was a pile of rubble. There were no buildings left or any significant road within the city left paved. They were cratered or destroyed outright. The Corps had been late and the city had paid for it. That would give them something to think about until the next time they would come.

Underground Base, Macabea:

The lighten room was full of cheering and loud talking as the top military officials from the Space Union military stationed in the Golden Throne were assembled for a meeting. They had just heard news of the successful bombing run and the total annihilation of San Mendenez. The bomber force had achieved their objective and now it was time to celebrate. This was the first time the Space Union Air Force saw any major action for a long-time and it was warmly received. Now as they assembled and cheered, they realised the bombing of San Mendenez was successful but from now on, the fight would be tougher, though, this hardly dampened the spirit within the room that was so electrifying.

Finally, the Theater Commander Coshua Inder stood up and with a wave of his hand silenced the room. All eyes focused intently onto the commander as he waited for a moment for everyone to calm down and take their seats. The room was full of shifting as the members found their spots and sat down around the table.

"I realise that everyone here is overjoyed by the news, as am I, but we have much work looming that can not be set aside by one achievement."

The room stayed silent as one of the darker skinned lady coughed gently and took a sip of water to clear her parched throat, apparently. She set down her glass and the Commander continued.

"With the destruction of San Mendenez, we must all realise that the Space Union military is now committed fully to stopping the Havenite Pact alongside our other allies in the Northern Pact. The blow has been struck and now the enemy is furious. He is now more dangerous than before and we can not allow our guard to be down."

Everyone nodded in agreement as another wave of laughter filled the room. Although most of them knew this meeting was serious, they couldn't help to feel overjoyed considering the bleak news that had come from home including a terrorist seizure of a factory and other political problems that many of them wished they never were involved in. Many of them considered coming to the Golden Throne a god send. A place where they could do what they had dreamed of and with honor while spreading their nation's image across the globe. There was no active politics about campaigns or political parties bickering. It was all about the war front here.

One of the advisors to Inder got up. He was a short, stocky man in his late 50s. He had a crooked noes and slitted eyes. Although his hair was greying, the man could install fear with one of his devilish looks towards your general direction. It was infact, Vice Commander Lt. Nishua Kerren. He spoke with a deep, metallic voice that made some of the officers cringed, considering this one of the few times he talked openly even at meetings.

"With this wave of success we have created with the bombing of San Mendenez, perhaps we should use it to our advantage? As you all know, the XXX Corps from Stevid has arrived in the city with nothing to defend. Thanks to our Mekugian allies, there advance had been delayed long enough for us to bomb them the city and leave, before they ever got within range of firing anything at them. I think our next step should be to get rid of this nuisance. Wipe out the XXX Corps. Imagine the psychological blow to Stevid, even bigger than the complete annihilation of San Mendenez. This Corps is famed throughout the nation, according to our intelligence reports. We have the power to wipe them out and send a devasting shockwave through Stevid."

The Commander sat down back into his seat, adjacent to Inder's. Inder leaned and crossed his hands over the table.

"I agree with you, commander. Indeed I actually requested authorization from the Federate who approved, but our Macabean allies have requested that we not do this bombing campaign. It seems that they are preparing for something big. Perhaps they want to wipe the Corps out at Ishme-Dagon? That's all both sides have been muttering about these days. I personally do not agree with this, but we operate within Macabee's alliance so we can not actively go against their wishes. Right now they have requested us to not do any more assaults for the duration of September against Havenic stations."

The room descended into some murmering as the sound of disapproval continued. Kerren got up to address his superior with a salute.

"But, sir. We can not just stay here and be trapped like chickens in a hen house! We must act on this and strike more blows. What is our military to do while we wait? Fiddle our thumbs and lite some cigerattes? Hopefully this is not what the Macabeans expect us to do."

"No, they expect us to begin mobilizing. They want us to begin moving the 1st Theater down south to Ishme-Dagon where other allied troops are mobilizing. We have tons of transports at our disposal and we are being expected to do this job. My advisors have calculated that using our entire fleet of cargo planes at our disposal, we can move the 1st Theater in two sorties for the manpower. All of the equipment will take from seven to ten sorties with all our cargo capacity being used. It is expected to take us at least two weeks to do all this, including time to prepare for the mobilization and deployment of our troops. That's why I'm hearby sending the order for everyone to prepare for deployment within the coming two weeks. When the notice is given, I want all units to be ready for being shipped down south to Ishme-Dagon. Air Force commanders, have your air assets ready to departure too. Were not sure at this point about any airfields down there for most of our forces, but at least the logistics and some fighter forces can be taken that way."

The room stayed quiet as some of the men and women scribbled something in their files and stood up.

"Very well, commanders. This meeting is dismissed."

The room turned into a mob as some of the folks walked over to greet one another while others rushed to the door, causing a jam to get out. Kerren walked over to Inder as he left the room with the rest of the crowd and in a low voice muttered, "The true test has come then?"

With that he departed his seperate way before Inder could ask what he meant by that. He walked into out of the building and left in the wave of the crowd. Either success or defeat loomed, but the countdown had begun.

Mekugi

21-09-2006, 02:27

Macabea Harbor-

Time was a valuable thing time had given the Mekugians not only the ability to complete a reinforced logistics system but it had also allowed perhaps the largest grouping of Anchrish personnel outside of the ADRM which at the current moment was within cannons shot of the Port city that the personnel would soon call home. A great cheer went through the troops as the ships approached the harbor the crews relieved as the three Archon Class SD’s approached the convoy. As far as the war was concerned the Archons had served well but despite much of the press the Archons were to complete one last mission, though that mission was still classified it would be their last deployment, to return home to be scrapped

The proud ships were greeted by a gun salute from the Lead ship of the Flotilla, the newly commissioned RNV Epion, the first of the Epion class Super Dreadnoughts and a ship much feared around the world. The ships personnel were against the rails a sea of white in front of a sea of gray made for startling contrasted as thousands of sailors stood and saluted each other as they passed, the Second Mekugian Assault force finally arriving in theatre since the war had begun.

Inside the Massive floating hulls were some 1.3 million souls Readied themselves, though they were not deploying to the front lines just yet but there was still quite a bit of anxiousness in the air as tank drivers prepared their vehicles their chassis still chained to the hulls of their ferry vehicles. As they entered the harbor the Epions formed a defensive perimeter supplemented by the Archons that were there before, as Carrier based helicopters began transporting dock personnel to assist with the unloading, the Mekugian Second coming would be on a scale far, far beyond the first deployment. When all was said and done the streets a would be filled with a seemingly never ending armored column, the Mekugians had come in force, they were no longer their to be a harassing force, the enemy would feel the cold steel of a determined foe.

Refit Yard #231 somewhere north of Car’Tul-

It was amazing the number of small things that come along from an industry focusing on a war effort, and these small changes though individually minor were making their presence felt as hundreds of field crews applied those changes on the several thousand M40A1 tanks stationed in the theatre. Only three hundred Panthers were stationed at #231 but several dozen other yards were spread north west of Car’Tul between the fire base and just south of Fedala.

Stacked combustible case VIPER systems were available to nearly triple the effectiveness of the tanks active protection system. A new specialists gun copula mounting a S30 HMG and a choice of a K30 SAGL, or S12 LMG heavily improving the vehicles anti-Infantry capabilities. A new Thermal Sleeve and muzzle reference system would improve the Panthers lethality but the main gun received no major upgrades, the armor as well stayed true to its initial release, and thus though minor the Panther II /M40A2 had received what could be provided without major factories, and thanks to its modular system had taken relatively little time to install, test and move out the combined armor assets moving south to form a wall of steel at the front. The Third Dragoons forming the bulk of the armored force, their experience and training the lethal edge of the first wave of Mekugian personnel to the front.

Car’Tul, the day after the raid on the Stevid Fire base-

“They’ve moved.. Where again?” A very confused and somewhat amused commander Sarchos asked the question of a likewise amused staff sergeant.

“They’ve moved beyond the range of our TSSM-4’s if anything though, it proves they underestimate our ability to innovate a half century old rocket…” the Staff Sergeant said with a quite obvious caffeine fed smirk.

“Don’t get cocky sergeant its obvious they aren’t being cocky, thermal shows it like red hot poker on the Havenite landscape, they wont make the same mistake twice.” responded the Commander.

“No, it seems they are set on making entirely new mistakes.”

The commander frowned, he had come from a long military line and he was never one to poke fun at his opponents, and even less to assume they were so ignorant as to no learn to improvise.

“Watch your tone Sergeant, but yes you seem to have hit the point…”

The commander sighed and sat down next to the larger theatre map that took up a good third of his command bunker, taking a yard stick he read out the distance from the new base and calculating its ‘true’ distance.

“Staff sergeant, what do we have that could reach the bastards?”

Though having been put in his place the Sergeant couldn’t resist a smart ass remark.

“Take your pick sir, we have an abundance of TSSM-4’s but they are too far away for such a payload, we have some M41’s that would do nicely, not as much of a punch but given another day or so we can rope in another 150 or so M6’s from Bravo company to the north.”

“Very well, and the effective range of the M41’s?”

“700 klicks sir, carrying 250 kilos of ONC in a light penetrating warhead.”

“Penetration?” the Commander asked curiously

“Up to 6 feet of reinforced concrete, about the same as a SDB.”

“Not perfect, but the range is ideal, how long till Bravo company can be in place and be ready to launch in sequence?” The commander already had his hand on a piece of paper to write the command message

“With reliable encrypted communication… that is by rider with no means of intercept Id say they can have spades in earth by tonight, and second stages fueled, and locked by morning.”

“Very well make for morning then… I bet you they think we just like doing this by now, they fail to see our reasoning. Their blood will flow, on each step, their thoughts a trespass on our allies soil.”

The commander finished his coded scribbling and handed it to the sergeant he leaned back in his chair and looked at the map reading the name they had given the second firebase. Keiso’sei Anchrish meaning quite literally and painfully ‘the suns hell’…

Morning Bravo company-

‘Safe’ even temporarily was not something you use unless your asleep in your own bed, and even then there were risks, such was the point to be sent to the Stevid forces, though the Mekugians had very little way of knowing just how important the sites they were attacking truly were sometimes at least in the eyes of the artillery brute forces was an equal weapon to intellect. And that’s why such massive rocket attacks were being made, yes though guided to some degree the Missiles were little more than improved V-2s cheap and plentiful to a scale far beyond what many could even began to calculate and it was these mass strikes that would make them so effective if not entirely accurate.

Crews scurried in the early morning air drinking coffee from pots on electric heaters inside the cramped crew area of the CTEL waiting as a synchronized clock aligned the 150 M6 Combined Tracked Erector and Launchers with the 500 of the Car’Tul firebase, admittedly more could have been called in, but at a mass of 1300 missiles in a single volley little more would be risked at what was considered a harassing move.
“Six hundred and fifty thousand kilograms equivalent of TNT, can ya frekkin believe it?” A lounging M6 driver said to the missile crew who were doing their final launch checks. “Though I suppose that’s nothing to compared to the 2,000,000 we put into them a few days ago… we ready yet Jack?”

“Five more minutes still Jonathan, and would you kindly shut your yap while I run the vent tests, we don’t need Exhaust in our nice cozy air conditioned cab, don’t ya think” the Missile tech responded a bit peeved as he tried to focus on the rugged zed computer station in front of him. The driver just smirked and leaned back in his chair, he had to admit this was pretty sweet assignment, beyond the potential for instant incineration.

Time passed and the crews put their vehicles into lockdown closing their armored shutters as the each vehicle activated its small warning lights a dazzling array of lights filled the fields that had been improvised as a launching area. When the roar of rockets filled the air the crews their ears covered with special hearing protectors as their lethal payload of M41 Surface to surface missiles headed into the sky black smoke trailing their first stage solid rocket motors. The effect would be spectacular onsite, though not as amazing per round the shear overall effect from those missiles that would make it through (and out of 1300 that leaves quite a bit it was estimated). Excessive but one can rarely argue its psychological effect especially considering their hands had been tied by their allies request, the time would come for XXX corps but for now the Mekugians would make do harassing any major point of interest that looked at the Empire of the Golden Throne in a funny way.

Jagada

22-09-2006, 20:44

The Siege of Pir-Sar

Lieutenant Colonel Akechi Hoitsu crawled out from under the armored personnel carrier he and his men had been sleeping under. Basic common sense dictated that if you slept out in the middle of a desert, more often then not, you did not sleep out in the open. Especially if you predicted an enemy air strike. The common sense had proven just as true and logical as the first time he'd heard it for now the Patriot Missile Batteries mounted on the HMMVs began to activate, swiveling this way and that. Akechi looked around, noticing his troops were all now waking up and moving out to the horrible sounds of the Patriots moving. For a moment he wondered how he'd have felt if they hadn't moved, but the enemy still came. He didn't have time to consider the answer, a second later just five hundred yards away a Challenger Three, or called by most Jagites the Legionnaire Two, tank exploded into a ball of fire as its turret flipped into the air before landing on the ground. He didn't see any bodies, but then again it was pitch black all around him. He heard more explosions followed by what seemed like hundreds of smaller explosions. A second later, all heck broke loose. Bombs began exploding over tanks, as Patriot missile batteries fired in return their automated systems now locking on to the aircraft that flew overhead. Akechi had shouted for his men to take cover, and moments later followed his own advice by dropping the sandy desert and crawling back under the armored personnel carrier he'd been sleeping under just minutes before.

Then it was a matter of watching the flashing lights, the sound of explosions, and the reply from the Patriot Missile Batteries. Occasionally the sky would light up as a aircraft was hit. Akechi wondered if the pilot made it, then corrected himself and hoped the pilot didn't make it, whomever was bombing them has a lot of brass to attack them this deeper into Zarbian territory. The sound of a cluster bomb exploded just beyond range of Akechi send his heart racing and then a moment later he smiled. Cluster bombers were effective weapons, but mostly effective against infantry. Unfortunately whoever had ordered this aircraft had failed to take into account that the infantry contingent of the Twelfth Army was still several kilometers south of the armored-mechanized divisions. Thus they would be spared, the full load of the bombs falling in full force upon a force willing to take the hit. It seemed like the small air bombing combined with the counter-measures of the Patriots went on forever. All of the sudden it ended, the sound of bombs going off ceased and silence returned, or perhaps just a form of silence. The loud explosions of bombs ceased, but the moans, screams, and shrieks of terror did not end from the wounded. Lieutenant Colonel Akechi Hoitsu crawled back out from under his armored personnel carrier the pitch black night was now streaked with flames reaching into the sky from burning vehicles and occasionally the burning bodies.

Akechi began shouting orders to heal the wounded, his battalion seemed to be hit, though not as bad as the one positioned just north of him, that area seemed lit up by the damage inflicted. The casualty reports returned rather low for his battalion, only fifty-three dead and another forty-nine wounded. A good chunk of his force was now knocked out of the upcoming battle, along with several armored personnel carriers, infantry fighting vehicles, and of coarse tanks--though considering how rumors of a nearly ninety-percent loss from the battalion north of him, he felt blessed by the Almighty. As the Lieutenant Colonel helped tend to the wounded, he'd served as a doctor during one point in his life and decided his country needed him more, when a soldier rushed up to exhausted after running so far in the freezing cold of night-time desert weather, though he didn't appear to be sweating which was a very good sign, "Lieutenant Colonel, sir, orders from headquarters say we need to send our wounded to the medical battalions now and then prepare for our drive into Sarcanza." The statement startled Akechi at first, then he looked down out his clock which he was then forced to press a button to illuminate the numbers. It read to be 0000 hours, midnight to be more exact. He realized why they were heading out and nodded to the soldier and then told him to go and inform the captains of the orders. It did not take long for Akechi and his battalion to be prepared and as their Legionnaire tanks, reinforced with the fast and light-weight Hastatis, whom also doubled as tank destroyer vehicles, and even one of two of the reliable, yet age Legionnaire Is. Prior to the War of Golden Succession, known primarily in Jagada as one of two names, either "Fedor's War" or "War Against Golden Hegemony", the High Command ordered the mechanized units and armored units be merged into one type of unit. A unit that could be an fast, yet extremely powerful, force that could go along with Jagada's 'Quick War' theory. As Akechi reviewed his map inside of his and his personal squad's armored personnel carrier he heard the driver curse, he turned around to start shouting at the driver for breaking military discipline when he saw him pointing towards something outside. Akechi immediately denounced the notion of an enemy pre-emptive attack; the Macabeans (their foes) didn't have their forces prepared for an assault on Zarbia, or even into the depths of Sarcanza. When he exited out the back door of the armored personnel carrier he realized how right he was, and for an instance, wished he was wrong. Walking threw his battalion as it prepared were the survivors of the battalion just north of his, the stopped some distance away from his as their commanding officer began to speak with several of his soldiers. Though that wasn't what shocked him, it was the fact that he could only count roughly a platoon sized unit out of them, maybe five or six more. He began to make his way over to the group, he found the next battalion commander speaking with his Captain Mito. The two then looked at Akechi as he walked out. Akechi out of both pity and respect saluted first, "I am Lieutenant Colonel Akechi Hoitsu, commander of this battalion."

The other soldier saluted along with Captain Mito. "I am Captain Sekigawa Masakazu. Unfortunately I am not able to present to you my own Lieutenant Colonel," he said waving towards the still burning ruins of his battalion's former location, clearly showing what he meant by that. Akechi glanced over at the horrid sight and then at the ground. "Lieutenant Colonel, my and my men’s purpose for being here is because headquarters ordered us to attach to your unit for the initial assault on Pir-Sar. Once we have successfully dislodged the Macabee besiegers, I believe we will be out of your business," stated Captain Mito. Akechi waved at him, "You may stay as long as you like, you and your men. Please make yourselves at home, if one can do that in this hellish place." Captain Mito laughed and then both officer saluted one another, Mito went off with his men and then faded into the darkness. Akechi could only pity his loss, and admire his humor in the face of that loss.

By 0300 hours the entire Twelfth Army was fully ready and had already begun to make a massive push into Sarcanza. Considering the Macabees had long ago lost control of this border, Akechi and his battalion crossed without any difficulties. The Lieutenant Colonel could only smile at the logic behind this movement; it was one of the more intelligent moves the Jagite Military had made in its whole history. All things considered though, the Army had never been given a fair shot until now. Prior to this the Grand Navy did a masterful job of making Jagada look weaker than it really was. His mind returned to his advancing battalion, troops were in comfortable armored personnel carriers or infantry fighting vehicles, others were in tanks and various others in the Patriot-System mounted HMMVs. If an infantry unit tried to cross with this much speed during this time of night, they would freeze before morning. Luckily the armored-mechanized units could perform very well in these conditions for self-evident reasons. As the Twelfth Army advanced they kept an eye on the sky and kept in close coordination with the Zarbian air control towers--who would not doubt be willing to help their Jagite comrades from getting back by surprise.

The Macabee satellites would, by 0600 hours show the Jagites making good headway into Pir-Sar. Logistics were being brought up and the infantry was just waking up for their march towards the Zarbian-Sarcanzan border. By 0800hours, Macabean satellites would show the Jagites about to engage their own forces at Pir-Sar.

Skibereen

23-09-2006, 15:22

The North Sea Route

600 km to Knife range Range/ 200 km to realistic engagement range
The chatter boxing continued as the fleet moved in among itself, at this rate the fleet speed had reduced to 20 knots. This to was no accident.

The fleet itself had been slowing so that the Vampires could move way out ahead, going deeper as they went the Vampires would be well below the thermocline and seated when either fleet neared them.
The battle would be in full swing each fleet well with in the others engagement ranges by the time the Vampires were to be at strike point Alpha.

Certain lines were now forming the fleet as the Asesino began taking up positions in Jack-o-Lantern style break up among the massing fleet.

The Seven were now well behind a long and deep line of pickets DD13/DDZ and AAW Frigates.

Pariacaca Carriers buzzed with activity as they maintained a CAP of 334 aircraft, the sky was alive over the fleet and it would get more so before engagement range was reached.

However the first shot has already been fired as the Skibereenian Command AWACs that are fleet forward would already be ranging the enemies CAP and the ships would be in range of the foot print---the CAPs are now toe to toe(OOC: assuming you have a CAP of comparable size and technology).

BVRAAM could in theory be fired upon Fleet Forward Skib AWACs, this however is the point.

The Ships were broadcasting immensly huge signals, in this chatterboxing was of course burst transmissions from the Skib Surveillence Sats over Macabee, giving Virtual Real Time displays of the opposition fleet,
Fleet Admiral Moore was now Aboard SNS-Dawn reveiwing the Jagite fleet and the positions of the battle in the North of Macabee.

His primary mission is to escort the Warlords to the Northern Front so the Jagite Fleet is an impediment to this goal.

"Captain, I want a hole punched in the Jagite fleet and elements of Raven will drive the Warlords through that hole, Ching Shih and the remaining elements of Raven will delay the Jagite fleet and harrass the Jagite fleet. This area is essentially Northern Alliance territory and I do not believe the Jagites want to delay here for very long...

One more thing Captain O'Leary I want the Jagite Flagship to have me be the last thing they see, if they are hiding behind the entire fleet you get the Dawn to them, is that clear?"

"Crystal Admiral, if I may sir, arent you concerned about unneccsary damage being taken?"

"No Captain, not if the Warlords get through, as that is our objective.
The Navy protects the Raiders, no vessel is more capable then the Dawn, os therefore it is the Dawn, the Dawn that will strike at their heart. No GFS in this Navy."

OUTSIDE OF IYREA

The VEL Division had dropped its force multipliers and was well in route with in its veiw the City of Iyrea and not far from Ruska Province where they would begin operations.
Iryea would become their forward base of operations, they would have a withering defense going back to Corzar if the need existed.

The Division Brigadier General Conquerer was Shaun O'Ombigo he moved with his command staff to find the Ruling Authority in Iryea and begin co-operative work in establishing operating area for his forces(it should be noted Skibereenian forces are exceptional at dealing with civilians and Civilian administration--as they are forced to be in their home land under penalty of death).

O'Ombigo had about seven five thousand men he intended to deposite in Iryea as permanent defensive force. They would begin sewning up the border behind the remaining VEL forces who were to move into Ruska as it was unclear the level of opposition forces penetration into Ruska and O'Ombigo wanted to make sure it was contained there.

Stevid

26-09-2006, 21:52

Stevidian Firebase “Constellation”

Over three days ago, the first Stevidian owned firebase was utterly destroyed by enemy missiles. Reports of wide spread death was not unheard of from both eyewitnesses and the single survivor who came forward. That firebase was, quite literally, replaceable and it had been quickly cobbled together to act as a forward position until more supplies arrived. Upon its destruction, Stevid lost a valuable vantage point over the war zone. Allied aircraft were relying on their own radars that made them easier to detect rather that using the CELLDAR emitters that Stevid owned. The loss of the base was devastating to a once high morale, noticeable fatigues in the eyes of soldiers showed morale had slipped and the levelling of San Menendez city hadn’t helped either. XXX Corps was the only inspiration on the frontline as was the two other armoured divisions scatter across the fronts. The arrival of the 24th Foot Infantry Regiment that fought in the Holy Panooly Civil War two months ago had bolstered and failing morale.

This base was also to help morale of XXX Corps, who witnessed the city burn before their eyes. This one was huge and massive in size, it was circle shaped and had massive concrete blocks that acted as the walls and had the same sort of ERA armour layers lining the outside edge of the block for external protection. Every 300 metres there was a small circular gun tower that housed pintle-mounted long-range anti-tank missile launchers, heavy machine guns, grenade launchers and on the roof of each was a huge SAM missile battery. The ramparts of the walls were designed to provide the best of cover and had convenient fire points for missile launchers and guns. The walls sloped upwards until it reached the peak where the ramparts were and steps led up to the towers and walls. Inside the firebase was a massive vacant space for regimental marching drills, gunnery practise, CQC or to be used as triage in the even of an emergency. The shelters were not the flimsy steel sheets and mud huts as before but proper concrete and brick laid structures with supporting metal girders for the larger buildings. Such buildings were like the armoury that held guns, and ammunition for missiles, firearms and rifles as well as artillery shells for defending self-propelled cannons and AA flak guns. The medical centre was quickly rushed together with simple wooden and steel poles and a light brown canvas with the Red Cross on it. The command bunker hadn’t changed in design to the previous one and diggers were finishing off the trench system in front of the North Ramparts- the side facing towards the enemy lines.

Hundreds upon hundreds of Chinooks had been drafted in to transport the massive blocks and equipment needed to assemble them. Soldiers, medics and Royal Engineers were all used to create the base and now were almost finished. One thing the previous base didn’t have was adequate AA defences and coverage, but this time was different. Two CELLDAR emitters and receivers had been moved into the base and deployed immediately, SAM batteries numbered over one hundred and had a direct uplink to the super computers the ran the CELLDAR system. The new Damocles Command APC was also present and had an uplink to the radar system that could see well beyond San Menendez and into the first small expanses that was enemy territory. The local Stevidian RAF wing station in the local airfield for base defence had high numbers of aircraft in comparison to XXX Corps large air cover, flak cannons lined the out skirts of the base and mobile SAM launchers were generously distributed between zero and thirty miles around the base- their sensors linked to the bases air defence system. This base was fiercely defended, especially on the AA front in light of the previous disaster, and would be an extremely tough nut to crack. To add insult to injury towards marauding enemy missiles and aircraft, the CELLDAR emitters (while capable of using powerful ECM/ECCM techniques on it’s own) was accompanied by six jammer truckers that constantly spat out ECM/ECCM waves against aircraft that did not follow the precise frequency of the Stevidian aircraft and units. An AWACS jammer craft (E-767) was also stationed at the local airbase to provide aerial support and anti air jamming with its own ECM/ECCM abilities. Artillery cannons with sizes between 105mm and 155mm were stationed south of the base, but under the umbrella of AA protection, were there to ward off enemy tanks temporarily in case the enemy broke through the allied lines. All in all, this was a monster of a base.

4 days ago- “Firebase Constellation”

Chinooks had just dropped off the second batch of concrete blocks that would be used as the exterior wall to the base. A vehicle parking allotment had been erected quickly adjacent to the main road that led to the highway to the late San Menendez. Under the sound of the helicopters and their dual rotor blades, one couldn’t hear the approaching Land Rover 4x4 approaching from the devastated base. Scouts had just left via Lynx helicopter to search for survivors and would report within the hour so where this 4x4 had come from really nobody knew.

It skidded round the checkpoint and crashed slowly into a wall of steel sheets. The windows were gone and there was a lot of blood dripping from the hubcaps, a single man covered in dirt and blood sat inside. Twenty people stopped dead to look at the 4x4 and its occupant. The man stumbled out of the car and leaned on the door, his temperate fatigues were scorched in places, torn in others and dark red around the shins, his face was filthy and his black hair a complete mess. He straightened himself with noticeable difficultly and staggered towards the crowd before collapsing face first on the floor. Men and women rushed to his aid and hoisted him up and carried him to the medical hut where doctors treated him and his injuries.

“Who is he?” a blurred image said as he regained conciseness.
“No idea.” replied another with a voice with a guttural sound to it. “His rank might be Captain or Corporal, the identification signs for his rank are too distorted. We’ll have to ask him personally if he’s willing.”
“Is he one of ours?”
“Yes sir, the national flag is on his left arm and his regiment is under it- the same that was assigned to the first firebase.”
“A survivor!”
“It would appear so- look he’s coming around.”

A nurse places a cold wet flannel on his fore head, now totally clean and he raised his head to where the voices were coming from, the images became clear now but he had no idea if there were names to the faces.

“Welcome back soldier, I’m General Templar of the 14th Foot Infantry Regiment. How are you feeling?”

The hurt soldier saw the rank of the man talking to him and then took in the words. He should know these men but he couldn’t recall them.

“As good as one can get after a series of explosions. But I have a bad headache.”

“Soldier, I’m Lance Corporal Jeremy Kerns of the same regiment as the General. Can you tell us your name son- we couldn’t find your dog tags.”

There was a long pause as the soldier contemplated the question before he sighed and relaxed his head on the pillow.

“I dunno sir.”

“Are you aware of what happened to you?”

“Yes sir.”

“Are you able to talk us through what exactly happened back at the base?”

“I suppose. We heard the air raid sirens wail and we took cover…err… flak and Sams responded and we heard explosions in the air. I was in the command bunks when the first missiles hit. We heard at least twenty explosions and then one almighty one- we assumed the ammo hut went up the shits. Then the bunker took a mild hit and collapsed and I blacked out. When I came to, I climbed out of a crater and… saw… well, anyway I hotwired the undamaged Land Rover and made it back here. I don’t know my name, you or where I am- only what happened.”

The nurse looked up from her note pad with a confident look.

“Mild amnesia and memory loss. Probably due to shell shock and a large blow to the head. He can remember recent things but not older memories. They’ll return in a few weeks of rest. But until that time I’m afraid we’re going to have to move you to Stevid GHQ in Haven City to the south in a proper military hospital. When he’s recovered he can give a good report- we’ll figure out your name and inform your next of kin of what’s happened.”

Present

Blue lines appeared on the radar screen of the Damocles command APC once again but this time they had appeared long before they’d reached past the parallel that was San Menendez. These blues line were the trace lines formed by the M41 missiles launched by the enemy, longer range missiles that could reach this base as well, it was time to test this bases defences for the first time in a real situation.

The air raid siren wailed loudly and soldiers and engineers darted for cover, the reinforced concrete trenches began to fill with worried soldiers. Explosions sounded over thirty miles away to the north as mobile launchers opened up with SAM fire, AA flak tanks opened up with high elevation guns and filled the air with bullets. The faint explosions just visible from the firebase. Some of the more advanced batteries stationed in Firebase Constellation fired a series of AAM’s that would explode before impact spreading the local airspace with shrapnel. More local mobile launchers fire off their missiles at enemy M41 penetration missiles. The speed was massive, but equally massive was the size of the missile and the enormous heat signature each one was giving off. Target laser designators weren’t needed since the enemy missiles were lighting themselves up like Christmas trees. Five air-superiority aircraft engaged some of the missiles that were now fifty miles north of the base and left the missiles near than that to the firebase. Thirty enemy missiles were almost on top of the base when the withering hail of flak, SAM and other AA fire erupted from the base and surrounding defences. Huge plots of sky turned black with flak fire, AA tanks tore the sky (and missiles) apart with indiscriminate fire from their cannons, and SAMs simply looked and fired their missiles at the unfriendly heat signatures that made up the enemy ordinance. Huge explosions of the missiles caught in the flak were heard and debris fell from the sky and landed harmlessly on the outer walls. Many more missiles followed the destroyed ones and some even penetrated the intense AA fire.

Trench 4 through 12 Section B was wipe clean off the map by the huge missile taking a good thirty men with it. Five more fell in the central compound making three huge craters in the marching ground with no casualties, however the other two struck close to soldier habitation rooms and utterly destroyed three of those large buildings. The command bunker was shaken by another missile but the structural integrity managed to hold the roof up instead of giving into the stress. Another missiles landed on the South Wall Gate Entrance 3 and made a sizable hole in the wall, a second fell 300 metres short of the West Wall Section 8 and cause significant damage to the armour protection facing the explosion. Other missiles fell well short of the base and craters started appearing in the flat open terrain. The vehicle compound caught the edge of another missile and threw several 4x4’s onto their sides, a refuelling truck was lifted into the air and landed near the high way- it exploded into a massive fireball the engulf the three lanes of that side of the highway.

The all clear sounded and those who survived gingerly walked into the open, captains and corporals began barking orders and the royal engineers got to work on repairing what they could, diggers moved into the base and began the tedious work of filling in the craters inside the base and repairing the devastated Trench 4. Initial reports from Trench 3 were that there were no survivors from Trench 4 and that instead of thirty dead all-53 soldiers in the trench at the time were killed in the blast.

The base commanders were gathered in the base bunker and were discussing the next course of action. They had debated for half an hour after the bombing and now it was down to the Base Commander to make the final decision.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I feel that we have to retaliate sooner or later. We only survived that because the AA equipment and CELLDAR stuff arrived on time. We got really lucky people- seriously lucky. We were better organised than before and our AA network is well scattered around the outer reaches of the base as well as internally. As long as we keep up the hard work then we’ll stay alive. We have to strike the enemy hard. XXX Corps have been at the city for days but they’re not quite out of it yet- nearly but they still have some work. The only option is an air strike.”

“But sir,” one captain cover head-to-toe in blood and dirt interrupted. “we all saw what happened last time. The Macabees’ AA defence was tough. We could possibly-”

“That was because MI6 missed it, we’ve got everything we need on the enemy firebase short of personal numbers. This time we know that the Golden Throne has effective AA lines across the boarder. We can breach it this time. We use our AWACS, CELLDAR and ECM/ECCM jammers and generators, airborne ECM pods on fighters and bombers, flares and the aircraft’s own anti-radar techniques. If we combine all of those options we can quite easily bypass enemy AA defences, we’re then free to fire as we please. I’m not guaranteeing that the enemy won’t take down some of our aircraft but we can do enough to at least take out the enemy launchers and even attack the base with high altitude bombers and cruise missiles. We can do this, we will punish them for the death they cause at our last base.”

XXX Corps- San Menendez

The forward tanks had had dozer blades hastily placed on their fronts to clear paths into and through some of the least affected areas of the Space Union missile attack. The final attack on San Menendez had all but wipe most of the city off the map, only the farthest southern regions survived the attack and XXX Corps had advanced well beyond that and were approaching the Northern expanses of former San Menendez. It was a tough job shifting the light rubble and impossible to move the heavier stuff. Tanks were designed as all terrain vehicles and most managed to traverse the city without much trouble but some areas were far too dangerous to even comprehend driving over.

The destruction of the firebase on top of the physical and literal loss of San Menendez had torn morale in two. The troops had some comfort that Firebase Constellation had been completed and had survived her first test against the enemy. They tried to keep their sprits up as best they could- one small platoon of men every so often would shout at the top of their voices, “Look! Look! There’s one! Look!” When their commanding officer asked what they had found they pointed out a single small skyscraper that had survived the bombing- it was ruin but the fact it was still standing was an iconic symbol of the cities resilience and the cause to which Stevid and the rest of the Haven Pact were fighting for. That skyscraper, only eighty-five feet high, was a single ray of hope for the allies. If that one building can stand up against the odds, stand up to death and utter destruction, even though all its surroundings and friendly buildings were dead, then so could the allies in the face of the Golden Throne. Nothing was impossible, anything could be done with determination. This didn’t improve morale much but every little helped- especially when the enemy had lost three of its monster bombers.

4 Days ago, XXX Corps, Outskirts of San Menendez

Thunderous explosions from within the city shock the very ground itself, men fell out of trucks and jugs of water crashed to the floor. Those on the ground threw themselves down and coward at the deafening noise. The smoke was jet black, light couldn’t penetrate its darkness, and multiple fires were burning in the city centre. The 1st Airborne Division was up against impossible odds but were obviously fighting to the last SAM site. The huge bombers were not quite visible from were XXX Corps were sitting stationary but could be quite easily seen by spotter on top of roofs on the more taller buildings. The city was being levelled by at least streets at a time by less than three missiles, the city was disappearing before the eyes of the Stevidian spotters. AMM’s were responding as best they could before being hit by well place missiles by Space Union. SAMs also responded to this latest incursion into allied airspace and had fired upon the huge monstrosities- amazingly they took down three and crippled another. As the bombers glided down to earth gently, the engine packed up and began a strong decent, one smashed and exploded in spectacular fashion somewhere near the northern sectors of San Menendez. The others had crashed elsewhere but the smoke given off by the firers on the smashed bombers could be seen for miles. Four bombers struck but a small comfort in comparison to the loss of the city and 95% of the 1st Airborne Division.

Athiesism

04-10-2006, 16:12

CHERHAVEN GLANCED BRIEFLY at the front of the building as he got out of the car. It was 42nd Shanu street, just where the meeting was taking place today, just where he was supposed to be. Cherhaven nodded at the taxi driver, who grinned and sped off. This left Cherhaven to think for a moment before he went inside. 42nd Shanu was the old Politburo building. An anachronism, as politburo members were no longer needed. Now, every decision was made by popular vote, but that didn't eliminate the need for a leader, a single human being that people could talk to. People like General Cherhaven.

He had chosen to ride by common taxi, even though it was not something that leaders of other countries would normally do. Then again, he was not yet a true leader in the sense that noone yet knew that he was in charge. This whole transition had been a near-disaster, the price that Merkar paid for leaving some of its citizens on Earth while the rest were five lightyears away. The population had shrunk tenfold, to a feeble ten million. The rest of the world had known Athiesism as a small island backwater in the years before the alien contact and the creation of Merkar. Although this had since changed, the situation was hardly different. The site of old Athiesism had the misfortune of being in an area where a cluster massive nations had started a war. What was previously a peaceful nation, even after its Civil War, now had to learn to defend itself.

"General!" Cherhaven was torn from his thoughts.

"Comrade?" He did not recognize the voice.

"Arba! Arba Cherhaven! What've you been doing?"

Cherhaven looked toward the front door. One of his subordinates, a man that he had known since the Academy, was calling for him to get inside. He realized that there was no point in trying to hold it off. Today, he would talk to the world.

The inside of the Politburo was barren. Since it had been abandoned years ago, it had decayed away, some parts preserved for tourists but the rest slowly dying off. General Arba made his way through quickly through the back entrances, hoping to avoid the reporters but, of course, failing.

"What's the situation with the space project?"

"Can you elaborate on the cooperation with Kriegzimmer?"

"Will there be war?"

Cherhaven gave superificial answers, staying close behind his aide and forcing his way through the building. He would have liked to give more information, but there was no time. Their questions would be answered soon.

He walked a distance of about a quarter-mile to get through to the main hall. The building was poorly designed, and many sections were closed for maintenance. Eventually, though, Arba made it, smoothed out a few ruffles on his uniform, and took the stage. The room was spacious, even though it was filled with people, and its hard walls, meant to make it easier to hear the speaker, instead reverberated with the conversations of the hundreds of people present. But once Cherhaven became visible, the conversations quickly died down.

"Good evening, comrades. I'm sure all of you have questions about the situation. Is it dangerous? It may be very dangerous. Let me explain."

The teleprompter in the far end flickered, and Arba coughed subtly as a que towards the tech people. There was a strange pause in the speech while Cherhaven waited, watching them run around in the back of the room, but eventually he realized that the problem would be fixed no time soon. No problem- the speech was dry and simple enough to recreate from memory.

"For the sake of the foreign correspondents, I will elaborate on our cooperation with Kriegzimmer first. Yesterday, the Merkari people approved of the military-industrial agreement with a 82% majority. This underlines how important this program is. The Empire of the Golden Throne, forgive me if I got the name wrong, took up our offer of foreign invesetment. The majority of the investment effort is going toward revitalizing our arms manufacturing industry. I admit that it has never been very strong, especially not recently. As you know, after the Eternal extraterestrials transported most of our country to Alpha Centauri, the loss of jobs has devastated our economy."

"As everyone here should know, once the Eternal extraterrestrials arrived and transported most of our nation to Alpha Centauri, our economy collapsed, and we are in need of any jobs we can get. Do not take this as a slight toward our spacebound comrades. They were bold enough to make Merkar's first step into space. It is our chosen duty to finish Merkar's job on Earth."

Although Cherhaven did not mean to be offensive, there was some anger in his words. This was not because he was hostile towards everyone who had left for space. It was because he knew that he had been given a choice. Every Merkari was given the option by the Eternals to leave for Alpha Centauri, yet Chervanen, and ten million others, hesitated and stayed behind. Now the chance was gone, and they were left with an overcrowded, polluted patch of Earth.

"Comrades, this brings me to the next challenge. Allow me to be frank for a moment. The nations on the shores opposite us have been waging an idiotic feudal war for at least a decade now. I will not gamble with Merkar's security. Although Merkar has no true government, no commander-in-chief, we will need one. Therefore, as the highest-ranked military officer in the nation, I repeat my offer to assume emergency powers."

At this point, it was no longer an "offer"- it was an important step that everyone knew needed to be taken. The election of General Cherhaven as commander-in-chief was a foregone conclusion; he was simply annoucing it to the world.

"If we are to be able to defend ourselves, we must use what resources we have. The fusion and spaceflight technology given to us by the Eternals has already made us trillions of dollars in technical aid sales, yet admittedly we do not have the industrial base to use this technology ourselves. What we are hoping is that this will be enough to support our nation while a fifth of it is conscripted into the military. Automation has already taken the place of several jobs previously performed by laborers, freeing up many people, but it will be some time before this project is fully implemented. We will need every Merkari to do his or her part."

"Rationing has been put in place in most areas. Every healthy man or woman between sixteen and sixty years of age has been examined for potential military service. We have hired several military experts and technicians from around the world to ensure the efficient running of our Kreigzimmer factories. In the end, though, it is the Merkari people who bear the responisibility for their nation."

For a moment, Cherhaven had broken from his dry tone and had spoken the last few words forcefully.

"Good evening, Comrades, and best wishes."

As usual, a flurry of questions came up, which this time Arba did his best to answer. The questions were simple and predictable, and it did not take long to get them out of the way. A short while later, Cherhaven was again riding in a taxi, thinking, watching the sun go down.

Stevid

04-11-2006, 13:33

OOC: Thought i'd do it for reference

Western Safehaven[u][b]

XXX Corps had had all the “fun” in this war and the Stevid Government had only entered the war in defence of Zarbia, it was only logical for her interests to be focused mainly on the far eastern reaches of Safehaven and Zarbia. But the Western side of Safehaven was where the Golden Throne had its most heavy units in large numbers and the latest build-up threatened to overwhelm the Haven Pact on the Western front once and for all. Stevid had three armoured Corps in Stevid and four whole infantry divisions- one being the infamous 24th Foot Infantry Regiment, a crack regiment that took and held the city of Volta during the Holy Panooly Civil War. XXX Corps was also a national icon in Stevid thanks to their many successes in the civil war but they were pushing towards enemy territory in the east. Stevid had two more Corps remaining, one was VI Corps and where stationed not too far from Haven, the capital city of Safehaven. The other was an extremely large armoured column with the 24th Foot Regiment attached to it in case of city and/or light infantry fighting, this was XLVIII Corps or 48 Corps and was stationed to the West for Safehaven defence.

XLVIII Corps was a large corps but relatively unknown to the world and even to Stevid citizens. They had been used in anti-terrorism duties when Stevid had been slightly friendlier with Credonia and were good in open terrain combat in contrast to XXX Corps city fighting reputation. They were commanded by Field Marshal Sir Harry Edwards and had been stuck sitting in Safehaven for weeks waiting for orders to attack or defend. XXX Corps were grabbing all the glory and were looking to push back the enemy frontline deep into their own territory- they were advancing towards the boarder with the intent of pushing the enemy back. XLVIII Corps soldiers had been wondering for weeks why they weren’t doing the same thing, wondering when they would get their claim to fame back in the homeland. The real reason was the huge opposition they were facing, The Macabees had their Arca MBTS and their newest Nakils on the frontlines and rolling off the production lines at biblical numbers. The generals had estimated approximately 20,000 enemy tanks of various makes could be deployed to a single engagement against the Haven Pact, to go on the offensive with just fewer than ten thousand was ridiculous. However, XLVIII Corps had received some of the latest purchases from storefronts that the Stevidian Government was interested in. Black Lanner (PADSHA) Medium Tanks, Iron Cheetah (PADSHA) MBTs, Firemoth gun ships, the latest MLRS units in addition to all the self-produced units from Stevid including Challengers and Abrams.

Field Marshal had just received a letter from the MoD representative in Safehaven. It was nearly a seven hour journey from here at the frontline to the capital city Haven and the dispatches were late- two hours late. He frowned as he took the letter from the messenger’s hands and saw the man out before opening it. He skimmed across the text looking for important parts that might vaguely interest him. His eyes widened slightly as he finished and lowed the letter to his desk inside a large green tent. He settled in his chair and rested his head on his fist, contemplating what he had just read.

“Colour Sergeant Moore?” He asked the floppy door of the tent.
“Yes sir?” It replied.
“Fetch me General Hall and General Hayes on the double.”
“Right away sir!” The invisible man responded and less than ten minutes later return with two men who were highly decorated with medals and ribbons of conflicts long ago.

“Ah, Hall and Hayes! Good to see you. Please take a seat because our dispatches have finally arrived from GHQ in Haven!”
“Good,” Answered Hayes. “It about time because another week here and I’m retiring. I got promotion because of my achievements, I want to lead my men into battle with the knowledge that we will be victorious!”
“Then I’m afraid, General Hayes, you are going to be disappointed.”
“What do you mean Sir” Asked General Hall who looked puzzled. The dispatches usually contained marching orders, why should his fellow General be disappointed by marching orders unless it was a retreat. In the case of retreat, it would mean fierce fighting before hand but XLVIII Corps had fired a shot yet to begin even thinking about retreat.

“We are to advance towards the enemy frontline. It’s some new theatre of war… not entirely sure of the exact region yet but definitely in the province of Ruska. We have been ordered to act as a kind of defence for Safehaven in that sector with help form other allied Corps and infantry. The Golden Throne has been building up for an attack for months now, we believe that the Throne will soon strike out at us with all their might. Our marching orders are to advance on the boarder but are not to cross it until further notice… no attack, just troop movement.”

The two faces in front of the Field Marshal sank a little. At least they were going to be moving but combat was why they joined the army. Troop movement was fine but a good fight was needed soon to liven this party of a war up.
“At least it isn’t a retreat.” Hayes replied to the Field Marshal.
“Now Hayes, you know that Retreat isn’t in our military dictionary- Coordinated Tactical Fall Back Manoeuvres have the same definition of Retreat but sounds less defeatist. No, retreat is not an option at all and never will be unless things really do turn for shit. But I want you guys to organise the movement. Keep the 24th Foot here in the nearest town while we push on. Ruska is good rolling grassland and we’ll find it easy to adapt to it but I want a strong position. Once we reach the ten mile mark for the new theatre, I want all armour hull-down until the next dispatches arrive.”

Mere hours past before the Corps were moving up North, they had been on a constant state of readiness since the war started and had been ready to move wherever without much pre-preparation. It was a standard column advance, scouts in jeeps and light APC tanks were a good couple of miles ahead of the main column scanning for enemy positions and trying to find the best route for the column to take. Following them where the lighter and more versatile vehicles of XLVIII Corps such as the newly procured Black Lanner 2 Medium Tanks with such amazing off road speed and the Challenger 2’s and 2a’s accompanying them. Heavier stuff such as the Iron Cheetahs, Abrams and Challenger 3 tanks followed them and was backed by the artillery units and missiles launching units. Column security units such as mobile AA units and AMM’s were scatter liberally around the column as it moved, the Corps had the same sort of coverage from the air as XXX Corps, XF-23 Nightwalkers and XF-24 Scorpions provided most of the air cover although EF-2000’s and F3 Tornadoes accompanied them now and again, even F-22a Raptors were seen flying above them.
The lush grassland of Ruska was perfect for the Corps; Stevid had extremely similar terrain as this, rolling hills of green countryside with a bright morning sun was everything Stevid was to a patriot and some began to enjoy the country side they were passing by on their way to war. It pained the commanders of the artillery units that they would probably have to destroy half of it in anger against the Golden Throne or vice versa with the enemy. They may be the enemy but they were still human and the beauty of any countryside is unmatched by any other wonder of the world- destroying it would be harsh on everyone.
Three jets roared overhead of the artillery units, Scorpions, the new multi-role attack aircraft now employed by the RAF. Home made in Stevid and an excellent attacker and both capable of land or carrier launch. An extraordinary amount of hard points for its size and some of the most deadly weapons imaginable were on this aircraft, she was capable of dropping small nuclear bombs, thermobaric weaponry AIM-9’s, tank busting bombs and bunker busting bombs to boot- at the same time if necessary. They provided the Corps with an early advantage against enemy armour with most of the bombs and the thermobaric bombs provided the best anti-infantry effects the military could deliver. The Corps was well protected by just three jets, so with hundreds on standby to assist the Corps was a really formidable force and they only thing in its way was the Golden Throne and her new armoured tanks. Force to be reckoned with and as long as XLVIII Corps cause enough damage to prevent them making a major advance into Safehaven them their mission would be a success.

[b][u]XLVIII Corps Manifest

Blank Lanner 2 Medium Tank- 300
HARS 320mm Rocket Units- 100
Damocles Command APC- 3
Iron Cheetah PADSHA MBT- 600
Iron Cheetah MBT- 2500
Challenger II- 2650
Challenger IIa- 600
Challenger III- 470
M1a2 Abrams- 2000
MLRS- 700
105mm Towed Howitzer- 250
155mm Paladin- 650
AH-93a Firemoth Helicopter Gunships- 60
AH-64 Apache Longbow Gunships- 100

Total: 9183 Units

HailandKill

18-11-2006, 03:25

[OOC: Okay, this post gives the summary of what has happened up until the time period where SafeHaven stopped posting. It is from the Killian perspective of things, but in NO way shape or form does it glorify myself. I used the Killian perspective because I could not start writing this any other way, but most of the post is non-biased and represents both sides. Enjoy!]

Aurillac: The Killian Perspective

Private Joseph Concorde was new to Aurillac and his clean uniform and clean shaven face was a true testament to this fact. Throughout his entrance into the shattered city, he was doe-eyed and surprised at the apparent destruction he was now witnessing. Boot camp could not prepare him for what he was now seeing; women and children shuffling through the street aimlessly, Killian soldiers not even flinching at the sound of an incoming mortar, and the bodies of the young and old scattered throughout the city. What didn’t help this young man was the fact that the veteran soldiers paid no attention to him, he was only a replacement in their eyes, and would never equal what the veterans had lost in terms of comrades, and fellow friends. Private Concorde was very disheartened by all this, and had pretty much given up trying to make new friends in his unit, or even really speaking for that matter.

When Sergeant first class Thomas Wilson motioned to him to sit with him and his squad during mess, Private Concorde was surprised and even shocked that a veteran of some sort was actually talking to him. Private Concorde, despite being shocked, was not going to give up this opportunity, and almost gleefully took a seat besides the older, wiser man. All along the table he saw men who were not talking much, and they were very much disheveled and even grimy compared to him. They didn’t need to speak much, because apparently Sergeant Wilson did all the talking for them. He introduced them as Captain Anderson, the leader of the company during the initial Havenite assault, Sergeant Phillips a tanker who fought at Urseline and Specialist First Class Upham a very unlucky bastard of what used to be 49th division.

After being introduced the men looked up at their guest, and began to ask questions about what he had heard the war was like back home. When Private Concorde had given a very iconoclastic response of what he had during the news, the men around him laughed with a mix of depression and glee. When the laughter died down, Sergeant Wilson piped up again, stating that the war was nothing of what it had been said to been. He then quipped that if the war was truly as easy as it was broadcast, that his squad would be eating Havenite food and raping Havenite women at the exact moment instead of eating army slop. Private Concorde was somewhat perplexed at this response, because he truly believed the Killians were winning on all fronts.

Sergeant Wilson knew the exact thoughts of the young private, because he had the same ideals at one point in his life. However, it was time for an education, and he yelled for someone “enlighten the kid”.

Captain Anderson: The story of Aurillac itself

Captain Anderson, being the leader of the men, started to explain to Concorde the true nature of the battle of Aurillac. This is more or less what he said about the actual fight for Aurillac:

The Havenites had attacked Mosnoi Bor early in their spring campaign, but they waited to attack Aurillac. This gave the Killian army a lot of time to prepare for their upcoming engagement with the unknown enemy. With the time that they had, the Killians salvaged wood and some steel to erect machine gun nests and an intricate trench system. The time lapse between attacks was somewhat beneficial, as it gave the Killian armies time to prepare, but after the preparations were done the Killians had nothing to do. As boredom set in, soldiers were horse playing more as well as doing things that made you forget you were smack dab in the middle of a war.

They soon remembered they were in a war when the first Havenite shells rained down upon them, tearing apart bodies and tearing apart the earth in a horrible wail. Soldiers, who were unafraid, were afraid as they scrambled to their trench position, or foxholes.
The war was now on, and in full effect, as more and more shells came crashing down onto the Killian position. Eventually, the shelling stopped, and Captain Anderson was one of the first to rally his men up from their battered positions to start fighting back. Slowly but surely, Killians throughout the trench line began to fire back at their attackers, who were now a mere few hundred yards in front of them. To make things worse for the surprised Killian soldiers now defending not only the foreign city, but their life, was the sight of enemy armor advancing along side the infantrymen. The Killians did have a solution to the tanks, and when the first BredtSverd fired a few yards from Anderson’s position was almost knocked over by the sound. The enemy tank burst in flames as the shell made successful penetration, but Anderson again was blown away, this time for real, as Havenite tanks obliterated the dug-in BredtSverd.

The story was very much unchanged as the battle raged on. Killian soldiers were now firing back at the men advancing on them, cutting them down efficiently, but not sufficiently. The Killian armor was faring a bit better being dug-in and surrounded by dirt and sandbags. Nothing was foolproof though, and plenty of armor on both sides was being destroyed in a metal haze. What would surprise Anderson and everyone else was when he found Havenites in his trench line. Shock wore off quickly as the impulse to kill was regained. Hand to hand combat erupted and men were screaming as they killed or were being killed. The trenches would soon run red with blood, but it might have been more Havenite blood, because Killian soldiers found their attackers pulling back into the smoke whence they came.

The defenders would not get rest because a few hours after the battle ended, the order to counter attack came down. Man and machine began to vacate their entrenched positions to go bring the fight to the Havenites. Anderson was leading his own company into the fray, surrounded by armor. The Killian attack went straight into a Havenite full retreat, as the only defenders they fought was a rear guard action. After minimal fighting and some loss for both sides, a new order came down from headquarters. This time, they were to dig into the Ruskan countryside and keep all the ground they had gained.

Much more time for Anderson had passed waiting to defend the ground they gained, but nothing happened. Nothing was happening to so much of an extent that he had traveled back to Aurillac to make a report. His life would change as the buildings around him exploded into thousands of fragments. He looked up to see thousands of Havenite bombers delivering their payload into the unsuspecting city. Things that were once buildings exploded out into the street, sending debris and human remains everywhere. Even after the bombs stopped falling, ammunition dumps were exploding, killing more people, Killians and civilians alike. Anderson could only watch in horror, and after the bombing stopped he almost didn’t realize the man he was traveling with was dead, and he was covered in rubble. It would be hours until he was pulled out, and even then he had no reprieve. It was time to hit the front lines again.

Sergeant Phillips story: Life in Urseline

Sergeant Phillips let Captain Anderson finish his story before he started to tell about one of the many Killian counterattacks that took place a mere few hours after the initial Havenite assault started. He began by telling the wide eyed private how he himself felt when he heard news of the Havenite counterattack, and how quickly he forgot the shock of news when he felt the shock of hearing he was going to do battle with an enemy he had never seen.

This matter little to him though, because he immediately had to mount his Wolverine light tank. His attack prong, as well as all the attacking prongs, was to hit into Havenite reserves on the flanks of the larger invasion force. This attack was already pre-planned in case the Havenites attacked in full force, which apparently high command felt they did, or else he wouldn’t be sitting in the targeting seat of his Wolverine. This was all semantics to him though, and he was briefed that his unit would be involved with the 46th infantry’s assault on Havenite reserves at the small Ruskan town of Urseline. After he was briefed in route to Urseline, he took a small nap. What had awoken him was a shell burst, which exploded on the tank to his lefts turret. The explosion shook his own tank, and threw him into a full force feeling of being awake that he had never experienced. The tank commander immediately began to yell at him, and he realized HE was the gunner. He started taking targets amongst anything he could see. The battle began.

After firing a few meaningless HE rounds into the outlying buildings of Urseline, he realized they were now entering the town itself when the crunching of gravel and cement was audible. On his left and right sides, he could see soldiers running into the town to take preliminary positions. What happened next, he could not adequately explain.

The buildings around his tank exploded, creating a torrent of cement, steel, brick, and glass. When the smoke cleared, all he could see was bodies and rubble. However, the next thing he saw where Havenite tanks and he instinctively fired off an APDS round at the tank he saw. He smiled smugly when the tank exploded, sending the turret into the air. His euphoria of the first kill was immediately ended when a shell ricocheted off his own tank, making him painfully aware that the lead tanks were now sixty ton road blocks and his own tank was not able to go anywhere. All around his sights he could see Havenite and Killian soldiers pouring into the town, firing off small arms rounds as they went to take positions amongst the crumbling buildings. It seemed every other second a building exploded, exposing more men to fire and be fired at.

In the intervals between his own tanks belching its rounds at enemy tanks, APCs, and men he noticed the sound of small arms fire. It was uproarious, and all around his tank he could see destruction and death. Soldiers were firing at each other from as little as two meters, exchanging their deadly bullets from what used to be buildings, small walls, and anything else they could take safety behind. What happened next, he would never forget. His tank was hit by a round in his own lapse of attention, and below him he could feel the heat of the ever growing fire. He immediately opened an emergency hatch, and climbed out of his tank. Another soldier immediately pulled him off his feet into the “safety” of a hollowed out building. From his perspective, he could see even more amounts of death and gore. Soldiers were slugging it out from behind their cover, sending lead, and grenades to the opposing sides. He could see squads of Killians start to clear out and occupy buildings. All though they were mostly successful, they were still taking grievous losses. These loses were immediately made up by a new squad of men who would pour in from the forces outside of the town, coming from the main road.

The slugfest continued for quite a few hours as men would clear buildings, only to have the building they took destroyed or re captured by enemy forces. The attackers lessened their grip when a force attacked the town from two sides. This force, the sergeant could see quite easily from his tall perch. It was armor heavy, and was mainly blowing up Havenite armor by sending shells into the sides of the tanks. The defenders were caught off guard, and showed it when the Killian armor and infantry started to edge their sides.

The defenders eventually pulled out of the shock area of the Killian attack zone, leaving the Killians to take positions, and start clearing out houses. Small squad to squad battles erupted as teams ran into their enemies. The lines at Urseline were truly muddled, but it was being sorted out with building to building fighting. A lull in even the small fights occurred, as if something was foreshadowing a grim future.

A Killian Massacre: The story of 49th division

Specialist First Class Upham had been listening intently to the stories being told, and he eventually knew it would be his turn to speak. He never had any problem speaking and some had even said he talked too much, but after what he had seen happen to his division many men noticed he was a lot more docile and silent after what had happened. On top of this fact, he couldn’t really think of a way to describe his experience, and often felt guilty he was one of the six total survivors of the division. This fact kind of resonated in the other men’s heads when he was told to speak, and stared off into the distance as if he wasn’t listening to them. However, he had also never told anyone of his experience and started to feel like it was time to talk about it.

He was choked up as he started to explain that the 49th division was also part of a counter-attacking contingency plan, much like Sergeant Phillips attack plan. His plan was different though, because his divisions were to cross the last remaining bridges over the River Styx and attack deep into Havenite reserves. This attack would be parallel to the one attacking at Urseline, except it was much larger and ambitious, as well as it would require a shield to cover the attack.

The large amount of armor and men began to move out with the intention to kill the enemy. Many of the commanding officers felt that the large amount of men and machines would give the Killians an upper hand, but in reality it made the attack more of a target for Havenite intelligence planes as well as regular attacking aircraft. Unfortunately at the time for Upham, he was not going to see any action directly. This was due to the fact that his role was to rig the bridge he was assigned to with enough C4 charges to destroy it completely should the Killian attack fail. Because he was assigned to do this he had to sit on the Killian controlled side of the bridge and wait everything out.

When the last tank crossed he could see a very long line of men and tanks heading out to their assigned attack zone. He was watching the same line as he wired the bridge, a task he had done pretty quickly; but then again, he was a specialist first class. With the bridge done, he took his radio and binoculars and took a spot atop one of the bridges ramparts. He hadn’t heard much radio chatter when he got up there, and was bored for the first hour, as he scanned the horizon and noticed he had a nice view. He hadn’t expected combat for yet another hour, as that was the briefing; intelligence had said that the trip into main Havenite reserves would take two hours.

This was why he was surprised when he saw an explosion, as well as black plumes through his binoculars. After the first explosion he witnessed he saw many more, as well as noticed that radio chatter amongst the tankers had DRAMATICALLY increased. After the combination of these things, he intently started to pay attention to the events unfolding. What he could make out was Havenite reserves and tanks waiting for the Killian attackers, meaning they were somewhat prepared. From the military knowledge he knew this was not good, and the explosions that he witnessed taking place among the armor column only reinforced this fact.

The battle had grown so fast, that he came down from his Killian controlled rampart and ran across the bridge, much to the dismay of his commander, and took a position on the far end of the bridge’s rampart. The run had taken him a few minutes, but it was worth it because now he could make out more than tanks. However, the real problem was making heads and tails of the situation because from his run from one rampart to another, things intensified. Instead of tanks battling it out, he could see Killian soldiers either rushing the Havenite foxholes, or Killian soldiers dumping large amounts of round on Havenites from the safety of a tank, or a burnt out hulk. The battle line at this point also seemed to be definitive, as Killian armor stopped at something like an imaginary line, and fanned out to take advantage of more targets. Not only tanks though, but even soldiers were taking more defensive roles and organizing attacking prongs on the Havenites.

Even with the Killians rebounding from the initial shock of running into Havenite troops the battle was a draw at best. The armor battle was as cut and dry as ever with both Killian and Havenite tanks were being destroyed left and right, sending their black plumes into the sky. No one in that department was really winning, because going to face too face it was a pretty much an even fight and also penetrating the frontal armor was a lot trickier. Despite the linear armor battle, the infantry battle was not as simple. The Killians and Havenites were getting cut down in their own respects. Killians were being dropped as they tried to push the Havenites back, and Havenites were being dropped by Killians who were giving accurate shots from their cover.

The battle was raging on like this for a while, with Killians gaining minimal ground and the Havenites not pushing back the defenders. Upham almost grew bored of it until he heard the roar of jet engines above him. What he saw next he would never forget.

The explosions rocked the armor core of the Killian attack but making things worse were the amount of soldiers mixed in with that armored core. When the smoke from the bombing runs cleared, he could see many bodies along the wide attack front piled on top of each other in a grotesque way. Many tanks were not out of commission, spewing smoke. To make matters worse than many armor and infantry casualties was the Havenite bombing run had disarrayed and halted the advance. Havenites were by no stretch stupid, and immediately started to push the defenders off. Killians tried to defend themselves, and valiantly held many Havenites off with their small arms fire, but a 7.62 round couldn’t penetrate any of the tanks advancing with the Havenite infantrymen.

From what Upham was seeing, things were a wreck. Killians were starting to get overrun and losing men in record numbers. The chaos wasn’t the thing that surprised him though; it was the enemy shots reigning in from the side of the Killian attack. He had not known why, because there was a shield in place to cover the major attack. He was soon wizened up as his leader came running up the rampart behind him yelling that the shield had failed. He learned from the man that the shield was attacked with more ferocity, and the Havenites had brought more men to attack it than stave off the main attack.

It was time to leave. Both men hauled ass to their vehicle and immediately set the charges to explode. They had thirty seconds, and the vehicle kicked up dirt and grass as the engine was being put at full acceleration. The last thing Upham saw before the bridge blew was scores of Killians either dead or surrendering. His heart was broken, and had remained the same to this point.

---

Finally all the stories had been wrapped up except for one. Wilson started to explain that no one could really explain it because there were no survivors of it. However, he began to explain what he knew.

46th division was also assigned to attack into Havenite reserves in the contingency plan that was being used. This attack was different though, because it required that a large portion of men be dropped via helicopter. This would not stop the attack from happening, and it kicked off somewhat successfully with eight of the twelve helicopter waves landing successfully. The other four were not as lucky, as Havenite fighters ripped them to shreds with missile passes.

The eight that landed though would have to crawl most of the distance, but luckily enough for them the fighter pilots that downed the last four waves of helicopters either couldn’t tell what the helo’s were doing there or didn’t get enough time to radio in. Another happy coincidence of the attack was that there was a ridge overlooking the sector of Havenite reserves that 46th was assigned to attack.

The men took their positions carefully setting up light machine guns and anti-tank weapons. When the order to open fire was given a hailstorm of lead was sent into the unsuspecting soldiers. The Havenite casualty list was immediately huge, and the attack was quite successfully for the time being. Killian soldiers happily plugged away at the Havenites, who at this time were largely in an order of chaos.

The chaos would end though, because another Havenite division in reserve started to counter attack the ridge giving their comrades reprieve and shifting the killian attention. With the combination of the afore mentioned things, the Killians were now the ones in trouble.

The first Havenite attack on the ridge was repelled, but the men could not stop the Havenites from surrounding the ridge. The ridge was subsequently surrounded, and killian put their best efforts in stopping the Havenites from over taking them. These attempts were successful, but the men were besieged and eventually being bombed, and mortared.

Despite this, the Killians prepared themselves and foxholes dug were keeping many men alive. They would not be protected much longer as Wilson assumed that the Havenites panicked when a large counter-attacking force of Killian armor was headed in their direction. With a large attacking Killian armor force coming in the direction, the Havenites decided to go for a straight bombing run and did. This bombing run was so extensive and intensive that everyone was killed.

The ironic part of this was that the Killian armor force the Havenites panicked about was just a counter attacking force from Aurillac to push the Havenite main forces back.

---

The background on all the battles so far was finished. Concorde realized the overall battle was not over because he, as well as most of the Killian infantry, had realized that with Aurillac destroyed and most of the Killian logistics with it the Havenites had to be counter-attacking soon. What he did not know, was a lot of the command staff was dead, and the points at which the Havenites would attack would have to have individual strategies.

With that in mind, he also wondered why these four men were here in Aurillac instead of the front lines. He answered the question himself when he noticed Anderson only had two fingers left, Wilson was wearing an arm splint with a bandage, Upham had no other place to go, and lastly Sergeant Phillips had a small fracture in his leg.

With a Havenite counter attack most likely to occur soon, Concorde had no doubts he would be wounded or killed.

Then again, this was war.

Mekugi

26-11-2006, 03:13

RNV Archon, Admiral quarters 0800 hours-
“Gentlemen… I thank you for making great haste in your arrival to the theatre but unfortunately there is little time for rest. It seems IRIS (International Reconnaissance and Intelligence Service, a Mekugian CIA) has detected a Questarian Naval group heading towards the vicinity of the island of Seelow off the Macabean Coast.”

There were several quaint nods around the old oaken table that dominated this side of the Admirals quarters. They had all seen the same report, the priority at the time however had been the safe delivery and unloading of the Expeditionary forces they carried with them. With that objective completed they now were free to focus on their primary purpose in this theatre; sea dominance. A tough task for a country no known for its navy, though not considered backwater Mekugi had always boasted their infantry and armored corps, but the navy had not been left on their own, funding had skyrocketed in light of the Epions’ success and with the Kraken class purchased from allies they boasted their own Super-capitals, though such vessels were not be put into the fray so haphazardly. No, those vessel were undergoing sea trials and refitting for Mekugian use, and by the way things were going the war was not expected to last all that much longer.

“Our task according to the powers that be, is to intercept and destroy that group in order to protect the straits of Arras. This admittedly has been seen with a bit of hesitation by many of my staff. I need not tell you that Questers has long since dedicated their existence to their Navy, not necessarily to their naval technology, but to their navy as a whole. How many Epions have been refitted since the 787 came online?”

A rather quiet Captain with a wire thin mustaches shifted in his seat and leaned onto the table to be seen by the Admiral at the other end of the table.

“Three sir, and for the moment that’s about it. We’ve been in communication with the Kreigzimmer Conglomerate about using some of their ports for the refits, but obviously they have their own priorities.”

The admiral considered this for a few moments and then looked back at the map.

“Very well, get back to your ships and make course for Arras we will avoid the straights due to their physical constriction and head to the mouth of the straits for the Questarian group, we will allow them to enter the straights gentlemen and there we will set them alight.”

Many of the captains nodded, but a few sat puzzled before one spoke up.

“but sire, there is only about 2/3rds of the fleet command present, what about the other third?”

The admiral shook his head at the captain disappointed in his ability to deduce the answer.

“Every bottle has a cap, that third shall be the cap, or more accurately the wall that the Questers will ground themselves into…”

Car’tul-
“Sir, we’ve receive news of new reinforcements.” the mans tone was calm and professional as he entered the tent saluted and delivered his message as he had been ordered. Waiting the Base commanders reply he stood sharply at attention. He was a bit shocked when the Commander did not reply. “We’ve also received orders to redistribute a third of our artillery to the town of Serak west east of Aurilliac in preparation for operations on the border” The aide was starting to feel nervous the base commander had not responded, saluted or any of the short. He merely sat with his back to the man reading piece of parchment his eyes stuck to the document in his hands. The Commander let the awkward silence between them for a moment longer before waving his hand dismissingly at him..

“Make it so then Corporal…”

The Base commander sat in silence watching the corporal turn from the doorway in the reflection of a nearby brandy glass he didn’t really need to say much he was far too busy overlooking the commands from earlier in the day that had been handed down to him. There was much to be done in the coming weeks, there would be little time for words.

South of Mandalay, Eighth Dragoons (mechanized)-
One of thousands of Puma APCs rolled down the ‘Ca’Tul trail’ they were all older vehicles some of which still carried the original converted Panther chassis, not a bad chassis just one outdated, its reliability however could not be questioned. The APV-30’s or Puma APC’s were a heavily armored, non amphibious and heavily armed infantry transport not very graceful but highly effective in high threat transport where its heavy armor but slightly slower road speed made it a boon to the troops who rode into battle. Sporting a 40mm cannon, a S12 7.95 coaxial MG, and a pair of Bulldog ATGW’s, not to mention a pair of advanced firing ports for the squads S12 LMG’s and of course the nine infantry inside each vehicle; even a single APV-30 was a threat to an exposed group of infantry or light vehicles. And here there were thousands upon thousands of the beasts rolling towards Serak. New supplies, new crews, and most importantly new technology would help advance their cause in the theatre.

1.3 million men and an equally ungodly amount of vehicles had crowded the city of Macabea and filtered out as the command went out to move south new orders had priority and the train of supplies filled the roads with men and equipment as the Mekugians marched to war.

Lumbering in the middle were a trio of what many had deemed ‘a Mekugian Super weapon’ not a very true statement but they were the firs true Super heavy Artillery batteries to be deployed in this theatre the ‘Trinity’ Cannons as they were called were lash-ups of a 13” naval rifled cannon and essentially four double sets of track pods. Each vehicle was different having been constructed by a Military Engineering academy and not a specific Defense contractor. This was a matter of pride as the competitions that built these vehicles were between the six major military academies competing against each other. Though lash-ups there was little to question their might each one had its own defensive stations and heavy armor, this made them lumbering beasts but with the range and firepower equal only to most naval cruisers. When in place at Serak they would dominate immediate the battlefield and a large part of Ruska province.

Serak-
Its amazing what a few good Engineering platoons can accomplish with good food in their belly, and Serak as it currently stood was a testament to the statement that ‘soldiers marched on their stomachs’ Barracks, defense sites and many many more improvised fortifications stood ready. Not far from Aurilliac it was not that uncommon for Killian patrols to near their lines. The Mekugian Infantry merely taking the time to identify the intruders as Killians, then smile and wave as they went about securing a perimeter.

Such was the fairly relaxed attitude at what would become the next hub the Car’Tul trail. Of course it would not always be so, with an nearly endless line of supply trucks an men pouring into the front in preparation for whatever next offensive their might be.. Only the future would tell… For now the small garrison at Serak waited, and traded stories with whatever nearby allies that cared to listen.

The Macabees

01-12-2006, 20:26

The 'Forgotten War'

Fedala, Imperial Province
23 July, 2016

Fedor's exit out of the palace in Fedala was done in tandem with the imperial guard, and Sophie was by his side. Although he had said the previous night that he would leave the next day, he would only do so during the evening. He would have to oversee the preparations for the offensive around Viusbi until the operation was well underway - then he could make his way south. He and his entourage were quick to mount on several glistening carriages, resembling a scene from the previous two centuries. With a sudden, "Yar!", they were on their way. Their objective was the largest boulevard in the city, the Tier'na'pol, where Fedor's father would be paraded in front of the massive city crowds and where he would meet his executioner. Tens of thousands of people had come from towns and cities abroad to witness the execution, and at least three million people were gathered along the extent of this massive main street, awaiting the arrival of the Empire's mortal enemy.

The boulevard was lined with more lights than any mortal man had seen in his life. They were of various colors, but the majority of them were gold, representing the throne and the life of the Empire. When Jonach had reformed the Empire in 2005 he had promised another thousand years and more, and the War of Golden Succession had been close to breaking that promise. However, the capture of Prince Heinrich seemed to reinforce, now, that Jonach I's word was infallible. Men, women and children alike carried iconic posters with the bust of Fedor. Under normal circumstances there would be more religious symbols than those of who sat on the throne, but it seemed as if religion in the Empire had met a sudden death with the spark of the war. The Church of the Broken Dawn had enjoyed the role of the binding force in the Empire, but it now was the armed forces and Fedor who was given that role - there was no more use for the 'Church'. That seemed to manifest itself this day. There a few interspersed crosses, but not as much as the Church would have liked. For that reason the Pope was not out in the streets this day - he would provide the final stab for Church's popularity.

The convoy of horse-drawn carriages finally came to stop as they arrived upon where Fedor would watch the execution. Although he was at the end of the path for Heinrich's display the noise was still deafening. The screams and yells of millions of people rebounded off the city walls. Fedor helped Sophie onto the wooden platform on which two thrones were aligned, specially made for his wife and him. As he looked at the executioners he cringed. Ten highly trained marksmen were lined, with no sight of remorse. A fitting death for a man who had been the direct cause of tens of thousands of deaths, insofar.

Fedor turned his head over to Sophie and whispered, "You really needn't come."

She smiled, her utmost beauty flashing before those who were fortunate enough to witness, and she responded, "You will need me today."

He smiled back and took a long look at her. They had said she was the second most beautiful woman ever to live. The first being Fedor's grandmother. To him, she was the first. He then turned his head again and awaited the arrival of his father. He could already here the screams of those who saw him first, at the beginning of the boulevard.

For Heinrich this would be a day of shame. He was wheeled up the boulevard in a cart which allowed little room for maneuver. The worst part was not the lack of comfort of the cart, but the fact that his would be subjects (had he broken through at the River Nestor) hated him. He had never imagined that this would have been the common sentiment when he first embarked on his ambitious war to retake the throne for himself. Heinrich almost hated himself. When he had been in prison he had time to think about himself and his actions. He had led a revolt against his own son and he had promised to break up what his father had created - the Empire. He had done all of this for his own lust, ambition and greed. Nevertheless, he had begun to hate his father. For all he had done for the now deceased Jonach, he was not considered worthy to lead an Empire? Perhaps this latest loss had proven his ineptness? Heinrich shook his head, content to not think about it anymore. He was happy that his days were numbered - more accurately, his hours. The only thing he hoped for was that the cart he was in hurry a bit more. He would have to be shot with tomato splattered all over his face. Perhaps this would add to the drama of the photograph they would most likely take after his execution.

He hung his head as the cart continued, and no longer paid attention to the crowd. He felt sorry for Bietz and for Weigar, as he knew that they would never have a chance for independence. He had promised something that could have never been given, victory or defeat regardless. But now Weigar, the city, laid in ruins under the pressure of bombers and other aircraft, and an army had already been crushed. Rumors persisted that Bietz had raised another army, which was a wonder, and that would soon be crushed as well. The crusade of Safehaven would most likely be a failure, as well. Although there was news of defeat in the south Heinrich was sure that the armies of the Empire would reform and converge to save Fedala - the Empire could not and would not be defeated by a foreign power. Even Heinrich understood that. He felt sorry for Sarcanza, as well. They would feel the worst of it - the people of that region had never been big on politics, and now they would face direct revolt and war. The men sent to quell that rebellion would not be happy, nor would they be merciful. The worst would come for Sarcanza, indeed.

Heinrich's ride up the boulevard he had once hoped to rule over ended quickly once he got about to stop thinking about how bad he felt for himself and everyone else he had damned. But the worst part, as he would soon find out, had nothing to do with the hate he had seen from his people, but the hate he would receive from his son. He could not gather the forces to take a straight look at Fedor, who glared at him as if he was a foreign conqueror defeated. He looked down as he was brought out of the cage he was carried in and taken to the pole on which he would be tied, readying him for the firing squad. He could look into the eyes of his executioners and he saw that they had no remorse in what they were about to do - they were about to save the Empire. He scowled at them, and one had the barbarity to smile back at his scowl - as if he felt proud of killing the beast.

Heinrich finally took a look at his son as Fedor rose his arms and the crowds around them fell silent. Fedor, now on his feet, looked at Heinrich in the eyes and said, "You are here to be sentenced, by Imperial authority, to death. Your sentence shall be carried out today." There was no hint of love in his voice. "You have committed treason against the Empire. You have committed treason against your father, the great Jonach I. You have committed treason against your son. You have committed treason against your people. You are directly responsible for the deaths of every man, woman and child that this War will claim. You are a burden to our society. You have been found guilty for every crime which can be perpetrated against a mortal man. Murder. The death of so many of our loyal citizenry. Theft. The theft of so many lives; not just the dead, but the lives that will change because of this war. Treason. I don't think we must explain this any further. Rape. You have raped the Empire of years worth of economic gain. The crimes you have committed are endless."

Fedor stopped and he saw tears crawl out onto the face of his father. He took a look at Sophie and saw tears in her own eyes. Her beauty only magnified through the drops of salt water. He finally looked at the crowd, and said, "But, you are my father."

Heinrich looked up, surprised, and Fedor finished, "And you have been forgiven. Your sentence, however, will be carried out throughout your life, as you will have to live under the burden of the consequences of your actions." The crowd was still silent, obviously surprised as well, and Fedor said, "You are to be exiled to Southeast Asia." With that, Fedor stepped away and took his wife by his arms and went back to the carriages awaiting him.

Sophie glared at him, her eyes watering with tears, "You are a good man."

Fedor looked at her and then looked away, "A father is a father."

Viusbi, Weigar
4 August, 2017

http://img512.imageshack.us/img512/430/battleofviusbi0pd.png

The "Fedalan bear" was not only awake, but fully prepared. For weeks six armored divisions and at least two hundred thousand infantry had been preparing to crush the Weigari army once and for all. The resting period after the River Nestor and the Second Battle of Mons Dei had given Weigari General Bietz enough time to muster enough men to have at least parity in terms of the size of the amount of infantry. Unfortunately, he would not have enough armor to match that of the Empire. It was irrelevant, in any case. Independent Weigar's days were numbered. With the destruction of the core of their existing army in the previous months and the capture of their cassus belli, Prince Heinrich, they had been pounded into a defensive stance that revolved around the defense of Weigar from Imperial troops. Given the nature of the expanding Imperial army and the dwindling Weigari Liberation Army there was not much hope for an ultimate victory - just hope that defeat could be staved long enough for the Havenic armies to breakthrough from the south and capture Fedala in a dramatic offensive (this is before the Imperial victory at Mosnoi Bor and Aurillac).

Lieutenant Jest Hartíer, who had experienced armored combat at the Nestor and at the Second Battle of Mons Dei, had been promoted to captain and now commanded an entire company of tanks - all of them Broadswords (not yet upgraded to the Tizona). He was to lead the spearhead of his division towards the town of Seríat, where they would destroy the Weigari flank defenses and surround the entire Weigari army in a very dramatic and cliché pincer movement. Whatever worked, worked. To this extent they had been forced to turn on their engines every day of the past week to heighten the chance of surprise, given that the Weigari defenses would not know whether or not it was a farce until it was far too late. There were also rumors of a large artillery bombardment and aerial bombardment prior to the start of the offensive, but only the generals knew of such things.

Their Killian allies would advance on the southern flank, while the rest of the Imperial 'Army Group Weigar' would put pressure on the center to avoid allowing Bietz to redeploy his men to stop the pincer attacks. The two allies would meet up at Respít, closing the cauldron. They had been given enough supplies, including petroleum, for two of these offensives, just to make sure that no tanks had to stop for fuel long enough to allow Weigari units to escape from the cauldron. The success of this operation would decide the fate of Weigar and how fast that fate would be met. If Bietz' army was destroyed it would allow for an immediate offensive towards the destroyed capital city of Weigar and it would end the rebellion in this part of the Empire once and for all - then the Empire could focus on Sarcanza and on the Havenic hordes.

The offensive began the millisecond it was planned to begin. At least three thousand 155mm guns opened up in a thirty minute bombardment of the entire front, while aerial assets began to prepare for the inevitable. GLI-76 and Lu-12 aircraft covered the respective pincer movements, clearing the open for the large armored formations ready to steamroll resistance. Towns such as Seríat and Kíentebra were almost wiped off the man with massive aerial bombardments of Weigari defensive positions. They would be later cleared for sure by infantry mopping up the rear of the advance, but the priority at the moment was to keep the armor moving and to avoid loosing momentum. Fortunately, the enemy didn't have nearly enough armor to put up major resistance, and anything that was seen in the open maneuvering was destroyed as soon as it was found by aerial reconnaissance. They never had much of a chance.

Centers of resistance which weren't destroyed from the air were bypassed and later surrounded by infantry, who would take the time to clear the town out. Any means were used, including flamethrowers, sub-machine guns and phosphorous. There were definitely no rules of war. Troops were told to be ruthless in order to finish the campaign as soon as possible. Families which did not immediately comply were shot to death by rapid infantry. Officers did not try to rein in their men, instead worrying about continuing the offensive on schedule. The armored drive would continue all day and all night, and then into the next day. Some tankers would not get rest for another thirty-six hours. It was planned to fully close the cauldron within two days. To this extent the Killian offensive received much more air support than the north, given that there was still lack of trust between the Imperial high command and their Killian allies - they did not think they could do the job as effeciently as their own men.

For forty-eight hours the drum of artillery and aerial bombardment would mark the most violent campaign in this area of the war.

Skibereen

02-12-2006, 03:45

The Vel Division headquarters’ and general staff had been in Iyrea for sometime, several weeks, though indeed it seemed longer.

Back along the invisible spider-web spun by elements of Vel were the JSSS Force Multiplier Specialists. In small towns and villages, they did their business, incessantly and clinically. Relationship building with civilians was almost as well known a trade of the Skibereenian Military as guerilla fighting; of course, the two did go hand in hand.

While nearly all of the Vel were trained force multipliers and all acted in that way in some capacity, the thousand men assigned to this task were the best IFAF-JSSS had to offer. They were all field trained and combat tested. Grey haired men who had fought the forces of Erinin, had fought with and against the Gothenbergs, the Ferrussians, and the Fyrehearts. The had at one time opposed each other as OSP or BRH.
Capt. O’Rourke was in a village just west of the village of Armada, he could not recall the name as he spoke with young men about what they had seen and heard.

Of the special Battalion Capt O’Rourke was from a unit called the “Zombie Squad” a twelve man team that engaged Erinin commandos when they were regularly found in Skibereen on raiding missions. He watched children play and listened as men spoke of the engagement between the Havenite forces and the Killians.

O’Rourke considered the Killians but his briefing had been just that, brief.

The young men in this nation seemed stout enough, as did the women. They could put up a fight if they had too, though he doubted they would fight for the throne as much as the land, this was true of any peoples. Everyone is far more at ease to kill a foreigner then their neighbor.

O’Rourke was the only Skibereenian in this villiage…at least the only one making his presence known. So to him he was the only one. He was dangerously close to the enemy lines but this would be where the fight would be and so he had to make certain that a route was safe for the Irysh fight. The Vel division had not been re-enforced for whatever reason and so it was just that…a lone division. Perhaps one of the most seasoned and best trained divisions in the theater but numerically inferior by at a least a factor 10 to any expected opposition and Goodness forbid unexpected opposition.

Their advantage, the way they fought, they could control the cadence and the battle to slow things down, to force the enemy to fight on a micro scale, it was the only way they could fight.

As he listened to the young he made precise and calculated statements to access their viability as an actual insurgent versus more passive resistance, everyone could help even if all they did was say the wrong things to the right people.

His uniform, if it could really be called that was cotton in appearance and the break up was all in shades of black.
It gave the garments an odd appearance, but it was effective non-the less as it did deceive the eyes as he passed from a shadow to the next, at night it would be perfect on any landscape.

His weapons were hidden and some way away…if a patrol did come through the city he could blend in, the uniform was bare except for a near unnoticeable patch on the upper left arm that when pealed back revealed beneath the black a green field with the golden harp of Skibereen on it.
These patches he had already given to a local who knew what to do with them, as in if he and his fellows did end op fighting they could use the patches and it could be claimed that Skibereenians were doing the resistance not Macabbean citizens.

His boots were worn and the stubble on his face demonstrated an improvised shave. He was slender and yet there was an imposing air about he man. The older men and the former military in the town would know it when they saw it, for good or bad.

He diagramed ambush techniques and retreat tactics, how to cover a retreat how to defeat thermal sensors, improvised explosives devices….most importantly he explained how to see things, how to note little things, numbers of fuel tanks, officers, weapon types, how to see the enemy for his composition. He would work on teaching how to ask questions without asking, next objective, and he would always be patient with the people.

O’Rourke was at once grateful for the delay in an enemy advance and frightened by what it meant. He knew that these men had not the same respect for civilian casualties the Skibereenian military did and for many reasons that was bad, and not the least which bad because it allows for indiscriminant killing without discipline.

In Iyrea Brigadier General O’Ombigo sat in a make shift office of a small barn on the west edge of the city.

He knew the men were restless and frightened, their re-enforcements had not come and the enemy was substantial.
The order still stood that as limited contact with supporting fores be made, the less of a foot print they made all the better.
Therefore, the Skibereenians had been avoiding the Macabees, the Killians and the Mekugi forces. The fewer who knew of the them the less talk there would be at all.

Small squad level recon penetration had begun into Ruska over two weeks ago and the information was alarming to say the least.

His men had to bypass Killian lines and patrols as well as the occasional Mekugi units.

The bad news aside O’Ombigo and his men believed that they could harass the enemy with minimal risk; of course, it is always easy to get the hornets to leave the nest.

The dark skin of the man was beaded with sweat as looked at map after map and read report after report. He loathed being stuck here, he had reached the conclusion that he would die here abandoned and alone…he would still do his job…but no one would care….or worse he would be prosecuted for it.

He had come to a decision to strike at the enemy forces in specific fashion and paint the enemy for Macabbean airpower…this would of course involve contacting the Macabbean forces directly, but that was a small and easy enough matter.

His men were ready for a fight, so he would give them one.

Spizania

02-12-2006, 18:00

Combined Northern Task Force, Optium Aquad, 900km from Contact with 7th Fleet
The task group cut through the water at more than 23 knots, keeping in formation in an attempt to pool surface to air missile defences against any inbound enemy fleet, they were headed straight down there opponents throats, unfortunately they did not have many weapons that would be effective against them at this range, it would be another seven to eight hours before the standard Shockhound I Avengers would become effective, assuming the enemy were steaming towards them for the entire time, then the hurt would really be piled on, but for now, they had one other weapon that they had yet to unveil, the Shockhound-ER, a lengthened and improved version of the ubiqitous missile, it could strike the enemy at these ranges, and was much smaller than the superheavy khan, able to be stored in standard Vertical Launch Tube Racks and fired from standard launchers, albiet with a reduced firing rate to account from the weapons larger frame. It was time to take this attack to the next level. But as the fleet loaded the missiles into there launch tubes and uploaded the targetting coordinates, alarms began blaring in the fleets ELINT centres, hundreds of inbound missiles were headed from the north, readings suggested super-to-hypersonic types.
"Emergeancy Missile Alarm, all crews to battle stations, firing number one salvo of surface to air missiles NOW!"
Hundreds of Ultra-Long Range Praetorian Missiles roared out of VLS assemblies, turning the sky above the ships grey with exhaust smoke as they rode forth on trails of smoke and flame, the hopes of the fleet riding upon them. The Launchers returned to default posistion and reloaded with standard long range Praetorian Missiles as the weapons closed,
"Number Two Salvo of Surface to Air Missiles FIRING NOW, all gun crews stand by, switch ballista systems to automatic!"
Hundreds more missiles roared out of there launchers, acquiring the targets illuminated by the powerful ship based radars as the first wave struck home, cutting swathes through the approaching missiles, but leaving many hundreds intact. This time the launchers returned to default posistions to reload with close range missiles, similar to those used by the Ballista Block Three CIWS systems installed on the warships. The massive loadings of SAMs on Confederate Warships was paying off, but as the missiles were loaded and the launchers brought to bear, the scene went quiet, accompanied by flashes of light on the horizon as missiles died fiery deaths. Then the five inches guns joined battle, firing off streams of flak rounds into the approaching hundred or so surviving missiles, joined seconds later by Surface to Air Missiles and short range 35mm Gatling Guns, the ballistas gun component, proving its worth over lighter and cheaper 20mm systems, as it eviscerated missile after missile, but in the end the engagement ended as it had to, with several missiles breaking through the defence. The destroyer Loch Lomond took two hits and exploded in a spray of fire and ordanance, taking all hands with her, two Model Class Carriers took hits and were rendered unable to carry out flight ops for another six hours, and numerous other ships were damaged, but the fleet got off lightly.
Now it was time for revenge, the missile systems that had stood silent during hte battle against the inbound missiles now came to life, firing first dozens and then hundreds of Shockhound-ER missiles into the sky, targetting the logistical elements of 7th fleet first, after these were taken care of, any remaining missiles would go after escort units, it was time this battle actually got going.

Skibereen

09-12-2006, 15:12

O’Ombigo stood in front of a group of about one-hundred men inside the large barn.
The men sat on hay bails and leaned on walls. They were all dressed roughly, the same and no clear distinction could be discerned between officers and enlisted or if the uniforms were overtly military, only the small green flag on he men’s shoulders, which at this point had the flap covering them so they could mill about town.

Behind the man was a large map of the area of the target.
Ishme-Dagan.

Ishme-Dagan and the surrounding area had a build up of enemy forces reports from citizens was mixed but it was large.

A week ago a two man team had done a LaRS patrol deep into the surrounding countryside confirmed the presence of enemy forces ‘in strength’.

O’Ombigo spoke as he paced;

“We are going into motion as I feel the target behind me is valuable enough to make the extension. Pushing back here will ensure the safety of Aurillac and further reduce enemy morale and position in theater.

We have two primary objectives;
First, to afford an opportunity to move painters into position to designate high value targets and direct fire from quick strike aircraft of the Locals choosing, be it Macabean, Killian, or Mekugi.

Objective two will accomplish this, we are going into the enemy lines, we are going to attack and harass over a brief period a concentrated group of enemy forces enough to provoke a significant response. We will draw the enemy forces out, thin, and then we will melt away.”
At the last part, he heard men snicker and saw feet shuffle.

“Let me be clear, let me say you all already know. We cannot possibly hope to find even near parity in an engagement of any duration. We will be over run in minutes once the enemy regroups from our initial attack, which means the initial attack- must absolutely be a surprise, be misleading, be sudden, and end as suddenly. It must be so fast and ferocious from outside the enemy vision that fear will make him chase us down to ensure we don’t do it again.”

A hand was raised

“Excuse me sir, but ahhh, once we get them to chase us, well we’re fucked. I mean we cannot engage the enemy directly. In my opinion not even for five or ten minutes we are grossly out gunned and out numbered.”

O’Ombigo looked at Col. Redman for a moment, the man was part of the armor force and was reasonably worried, O’Ombigo contained his anger.

“I understand you are an intelligent man and you know where I am headed with this or you wouldn’t have said what you said.”

The rest of the men in the room looked at each other and him; it seemed not all of them saw where this was headed.

“Col. Redman if we do this it will open the enemy to counter attack by the Killians and the Mekugi and the Locals.”

“Indeed it would if they were included in the mission, which to my knowledge they are not, what is our air support? What is the insertion method for the painters? The Mk.I foot right?”

O’Ombigo was a Marine in his regular military role outside Special Forces; he was also a Red Hand officer.

He produced his pistol, and set it on the ground in front of him, his anger no longer contained at being questioned, especially before he was even finished.

“Pick it up”

Col. Redman eyed the pistol; he eyed the General, then the pistol.

This was an old way of challenging command, he could reach for the weapon and if he took it O’Ombigo would concede to his will, at least on this issue, he could dishonorably draw his weapon and fire(what happened most often) and assume command of the Unit, or he could shut up.

O’Ombigo continued uninterrupted.

“We are going to do this in a variety of ways, 1st Lieutenant Flannery and his painter teams are already on their way to the locale. We are going to ready our available armor and mechanized forces we will use MSCN and Shadow Casters to avoid direct detection by enemy forces and most importantly beyond detection to confuse the number of combatants once the detection and engagement have begun.

Shadow Caster Units will penetrate the Ishme-Daga region south of Armada, they will run south of the arm of the arm of the Ebro river here-, but still north of Del Bosch, don’t worry the armor will not be expected to cross the Ebro, artillery will engage the City directed by painters—they will not designate with lasers, but they will call down fire.

The Shadow Casters will move both along our intended route and north of the Arm of the Ebro which is south of Tern’ am along that bank of Ebro, where one of the Diablo Negro will move to deliver fire on the main area of Ishme-Dagan. The Diablo Negro alone should draw significant attention of enemy forces, it will be accompanied by anti-air units, they will serve to evac the Diablo crew should they be compromised too quickly.

Enemy air power should not be problem since we have the Shadow Casters, however should allied forces decide to provide CAS once the fight is started you will have to call them in because the Shadow will obstruct their ability as much as the enemies, this is why we can not use them all the way up to Ishme-Dagan the last 10km we will be naked except for MSCN. “

Another comment from the men

“Sir withdrawl, I assume that we are not going to rely on the MSCN and the Shadow Casters to provide obscuration for our withdrawl-I mean harassing units, something to offer a slow down to the enemy.”

O’Ombigo knew Col. Richardson, he was a Marine Sniper instructor perhaps one of the best Special Operators Skibereen had ever produced, the man was worth a battalion of regulars for the chaos he could spread through an enemy, and the fear he could put in opposition officers.

“Indeed we won’t just hope that the enemy keeps his blind fold on while we walk away.
Col. McGraw and his Sappers will provide a few quickly laid well-placed obstacles for the enemy pursuit. Just fall back along the lines directed or you will find out what Col. McGraw has up his sleeves from the business end, also Major Anderson will be directing mortar fire down on all of our position 15minutes after the engagement begins.”

“That’s right, smoke and fire, well phosphorous/thermite rounds to confuse enemy optics as you will be moving through the Shadow Caster’s shadow the additional smoke and fire will better serve to confuse enemy forces, as well once the pursuit begins the second Diablo will available from west of Armada to call fire down on your six.” Major Anderson said grinning. “Just don’t dilly dally, I would hate to kill you guys.”

The room laughed, all though the officers associated with the mechanized units seemed less then enthused.

“Yes, Major, that is what you and your teams will be doing.” O’Ombigo was felling better as the morale of his men was changing as they discussed specifics.

Col. Black spoke up

“Don’t worry my little taxi drivers we are going to remain behind to ensure the enemy is sufficiently pissed of, and delayed so that you can do the dangerous part.”
Col. Black was perhaps more intimidating then even O’Ombigo. He was tattooed as to mark him one of the ‘Fathers’ which was a criminal Faction in Skibereen, started in the Prison campsofthe Collapsed nation of Fallschrimmjager. Col. Black’s German accent betrayed that he had spent a lot of time in the hands of the Fallschrimmjager prison system. His tattoos marked his rank in that organization his head shaved clean spider webs under his eyes and along his cheek bones, and lips and around his skull gave the on looker the impression they were looking at a bare bone skull, the marks meant he was an accomplished professional killer. He was head of the Alpha Combat teams (Nicknamed: Dogs) and he earned his position.

“Me and my boys will make those kids think the devil himself had come up to drag them all back down.” He spoke flat, as if there was not intended to be any humor in that remark.

“We got satchel charges, toe poppers, thermite grenades, and the standards basically. The toe poppers and satchel charges will do just fine for confusion and destruction, I don’t care what they are in, aint nothing a few pounds of HMX can’t kill, Swarm up.”

OOC…I will continue I just want to give people a chance to claim I cannot do small unit insertion. In addition, I have to ok this with …Mac and Stevid, I believe it is Stevid forces in Ish.

Independent Hitmen

21-12-2006, 15:04

The New White House, J City
Situation Room M, 0930hrs Local Time

Situation Room M had been dedicated to the Macabeean conflict since IH involvement first began, the walls were covered in a multitude of screens showing everything from secure military bands to international news network coverage of the conflict. There was a smaller version of the room next door dealing with the Kanami conflict that raged near the Golden Throne and was consuming large proportions of IH assets given its relatively small scale. However with that winding down again there would be a transfer of forces back to IH Stevidian Command, the group co-ordinating all IH assets in the main region.

Presentations had just been made on expected enemy force concentrations in the areas targetted in the upcoming IH offensive operation codenamed Operation Pin Strike. IH 7th Army on the Hitmens left flank would launch an offensive the next day using Major General Pete Jons X Corps to smash enemy defences to allow VII Corps to storm into the enemies rear for an envelopment of what intelligence said was the Macabeean 19th Army. IH 11th Army would be holding its positions to allow the Macabeeans to be fully encircled by 7th Army and the IH 1st Army attacking on the right.

IH Haven Army Group Command, under General of the Armies Mark Anthony, was co-ordinating the offensive being undertaken on a multiple Army Group front, IH 12th Army Group under General Johnathon Marius and IH 7th Army Group under General Marcus Johnson. It would be the first IH attack on this scale since the Talaax conflict some three years before and would be designed to relieve pressure on the Haven Pact’s besieged right flank and the Ishe-Dagon salient by drawing away Macabeean reserves once Fedala and Targul Frumos were threatened by the planned breakout. SBM-5 launchers would be providing tactical and strategic missile strikes on a range of targets to help the attack, including all enemy airfields and strips in the region to limit the effectiveness of their air power.

But for now most attention was turned to the naval battle that appeared to be breaking out again in the Otium Aqua just as IH 7th Fleet was being withdrawn and replaced by the IH 2nd Fleet, recently arrived in theatre. President Anderson once again listened intently to the two briefings, one on friendly strength the other on not so friendly strength, before he spoke.

“So effectively we are still outnumbered and probably outgunned. This is starting to irritate me, what the hell are you doing with one hundred and ten trillion dollars a year guys!”

“Mr President our budget is not the topic that should be addressed here. The enemy have shown that they will use long range missiles of a configuration we are capable of dealing with and we must assume that they will attempt a first strike against 2nd fleet with those. If they don’t then very well, our carriers and land based aircraft will strike them and strike them hard. Even if our missiles are technically inferior to theirs we can force them to use up a lot of SAM’s and some of our initial salvo’s will get through their screens and do damage. I remind you that our submarines in the area are yet to engage this formation and when they do that will also hand us another advantage. Whilst they hold the numerical one they don’t have anywhere near as much air power as we do, they are getting within range of fighter-bombers from Rubert Island pretty soon and then the IHAF and RAF will pound on them until those shiny grey ships are at the bottom of the ocean. We have learnt from round one, these guys are in for at least two surprises.”

“I’m still not convinced that this war is not going to end up with us in the wrong corner. Its basically us and Stevid now, the SH2 command are virtually paralysed and we have the best part of half a million soldiers now on their soil not to mention the equipment and stores we are building up!” this from the Secretary of State, a trained diplomat who was uncharacteristic of an IH citizen in that he had no love of the military. He continued “Mr President, at least allow my staff to contact Golden Throne representatives in somewhere neutral such as SEA to see what it would take to end this war. Our allies don’t seem too keen on it and if this offensive doesn’t work then we are going to be staring down the barrels of one huge ass retreat back to secure ports for evacuatation for those people.”

“Perhaps the Secretary should leave military matters to military people” put in Field Marshal Mathers, Commander of IH Army, “The offensive doesn’t kick off for a while now, operational integrity is key and we won’t jeapordise that by putting a demand to them saying if you give us this we wont launch our planned offensive. Mr President you are a military man, we have to hit them hard if any political solution is going to be considered by their government. If we threaten Fedala or even Targul Frumos they will be more forthright at the table and we can prevent an unacceptable loss on our part if we drag the conflict out with idiotic diplomats calling the shots.”

“Matt, I’d like to remind you that Tom is here at my request, its good to have another opinion on these things. I want that Spizanian fleet removed from play and for now planning and preparation for this offensive continue as per normal. As for negotiations Tom, I want you to get somebody low down enough for the press to not pick up, but high up enough for them to know we are serious, to get over to SEA and start talking with the Golden Throne representatives there. Find out subtely if there is anyway to end this with a withdrawal to pre-war boundaries or something of the sort, I don’t know if the public will stomach heavy losses in such a far away place and if we can avoid it I’d rather take that option that kill half our armed forces and be left with some ungovernable country to uphold. Also with regards the destruction of property in the war zone, make clear that they have permission to destroy anything that needs it I don’t care if it’s a completely flat environment if that’s what they need. Lets get to it Gentlemen, Matt stay behind for a minute if you will.”

Most of the people from the room left with that Presidential invitation, only Secret Service Agents and members of Mather’s personal staff remaining with their commander.

“Look Matt, they’ve used nukes on Portsmouth before and you can bet your ass that they will use them again. You are authorized to plan for our attack to include the use of tactical nuclear weapons delivered by whatever system you so need. I also want you to update your plans for a full scale nuclear strike and counter-strike on the Golden Throne, Spizania, Space Union and all involved beligerents. I want to see plans when they are ready, attached casualty estimates where possible.”

“Mr President, it would be unwise to use a first strike and tactical nuclear weapons do invite a response in kind. However the plans will be presented as you see fit, we have several in existence that you will want to look at I suspect.”

“Thank you Matt. Keep it quiet though, the press would have a field day if they knew I was even looking at plans for the use of them.”

“Of course Sir. Secretary Adler’s negotiations?”

“I doubt they will come to anything to be honest, they want SafeHaven2 erased from the map and its very likely that will happen. If it does we just get our men out and back to Stevid and solve the problem from there, they can’t be foolish enough to attempt a landing on the scale needed to conquer Stevid and if they did our combined fleets would smash them, or at least make it very, very costly for their little trip right?”

“Right Sir” He responded, not quite sure of his own answer.

IH 2nd Fleet, The Otium Aqua

IH 2nd Fleet was arrayed across fifty square miles of ocean in a standard formation, capital ships in the centre and escorts arrayed around them. They had relieved IH 7th Fleet sometime earlier after that formation had had an encounter with the Spizanian force now attempting to close with them. That particular Spizanian group had already been visited by the IH Air Force once and they would be getting plenty more attention from land based bombers and soon fighter-bombers as they attempted to close with the Hitmen vessels.

On his command ship, IHS New Middlesex, Fleet Admiral Jenson Coomes let his 9 iron slip through his gloved grip until the grip rested on the steel deck of the carrier. Being an Admiral had its advantages, such as being able to convert the rear of his flight deck into a golf driving range for half an hour as and when he chose to and smashing a few balls off with some chosen compatriots. He turned and looked forward, past five bathing short wearing crew members sunning themselves to where an F-30 lept off the catapults. CAP will be coming back down soon, time to wrap up the shot practice he thought.

He selected another club from his bag, handing the 9 iron to a Navy Commander who was acting as caddy, and hefted the 3 wood around a bit. Getting the balance he placed a ball on the tee, convieniently placed in a small piece of grass that was moved onto the deck for this purpose, and took his swing. The ball was sliced off in the direction of the carrier Pride of the City and the Admiral’s eyes watched the white speck all the way to the water which it disappeared under with nothing more than a splash.

“Still slicing the odd one Sir. You won’t be beating the Field Marshal this year again?”

“Shut it Vice-Admiral. Mathers gets a lot more practice than I do as he isn’t stuck on a little tub like this the whole time.”

“Little tub Sir? This is one of the pride of the Navy”

“So I’m told, but they wont let me have a PoW so it’s a tub until I get one.”

“Quite Sir. Half hour’s nearly up, the Captain will be wanting his deck back.”

“Yes he will. If I had a nice turret I could set up a permenant range on it, did I ever tell you about when I was commanding Harmison and we set up the…..”

A loud horn stopped the Admirals story as the Captain finally got irritate enough with the golfing party to sound the clear decks horn. The five sailors grudgingly packed up their sunbeds and dragged them off towards a hatch as the Admiral’s party collected the golfing equipment and worked their way past combat aircraft and helicopters being brought up to the deck and back towards the superstructure, the wind nearly removing Coomes golfing hat as he walked over.

Wearing his golfing attire the Admiral looked just like any other fifty odd year old on a Sunday morning, aside from the fact that he now strode onto the bridge of a four hundred and fifty six thousand tonne aircraft carrier that carried 310 combat aircraft.

“Captain, you might have ruined by swing!”

“I had Jenkins here make sure you weren’t in the middle of one before I sounded the alert Sir.” he looked out as the first F-30 returned to the carrier deck, its wheels touching down about fifty feet behind where the Admiral’s party had been a few minutes previously. The Admiral didn’t seem phased at all so the Captain continued “Sir, that Spizanian Fleet is closing again. It will be at about 1000klicks from our outer escorts by now.”

“Very well. Has our request to the Air Force gone in?”

“Yes Sir. A strike will be attempted within five hours.”

“Ok. Let’s put our Air Groups on ten minute alert, put up a double CAP from now on including radar birds. Attack birds loaded up with ASM’s and the majority of our CT-2’s ready to go up and support a strike when it’s ordered. SAM boss has freedom to do as he likes but the Fleet will turn away from the contacts at the turn of the hour and proceed at maximum fleet speed away from them. Inform Captain Siegfried that it would be beneficial to place our Hunter’s and other missile cruisers on that threat axis to make sure he does it.”

“I’m sure he would do that anyway Sir, but as you order.”

“Have we had any contact from the huge Questerian Fleet in the area?”

“Yes Sir. They are moving to assist and kick some arse. Don’t have an ETA to engagement time though.”

“Very well, keep me informed of their move……”

An alarm started going off, this one signaling Air Action, a second later the loudspeaker began transmitting.

“Attention, attention inbound Vampires. All hands report to battle stations, all hands report to battle stations.”

Without another word the Admiral and several of his party disappeared down the nearest ladder towards the CIC and the information screens present there. It took them less than a minute to get to the air conditioned environment where the Fleet was being run from.

“Admiral on deck”

The call rang out, but as ordered nobody did anything more than hear it. Their jobs were too important for them to be jumping out of seats every time somebody important entered the room. Coomes took a quick look at the situation board and immediately began giving orders to the people in the room.

“Turn the carriers into the wind and begin clearing decks, fighters first where possible. Report when decks are clear. I want the CAP to go chase some of these inbounds down but do not stray over that damned SAM envelope we are presuming they have, radar birds will support as necessary. SAM boss is free to engage at will, light up our systems when it becomes appropriate to do so. Oh and somebody call the Air Force and tell them to hurry up on that second strike, -52’s flying straight over us will have adequate cover tell them now!”

His eyes returned to the screen where more and more triangles with vectors were appearing on bearings closely associated with the Spizanian Fleet. Beneath him he could feel the ship accelerating as she began launching and recovery operations at the same time, the elevators to the flight deck bringing more and more aircraft up from the two hangar decks every minute as they shot more off the front of the huge carrier. All of the escorts bent to maximum speed as well as the outer ones lit up their missile tracking radars and prepared to launch SAM’s at the inbounds.

RAF base in Stevid

The first Air Force strike planes were not even home yet as the second wave of B-52’s and EB-52’s began launching. The cavernous bomb bays held large amounts of brand new AS-1LM missiles as they set off towards the IH Fleet from where their launches would commence.

Stevid

21-12-2006, 22:05

Three Days Ago, Stevid Capita, Cabinet War Office

“SO, I have something rather disturbing from MI6 in front of me and the rest of you.” rime Minster Conroy said to the gathering of Cabinet Ministers and the three top brass commanders of the military. “It seems from what satellite imaging shows and from what the current political situation has come to, the country of Atheism just South East of Safehaven seems to be favouring our enemy’s side.”

“How so?” asked the Foreign Minister.

“From what intelligence got back from the photos, it seems that the Golden Throne of the Macabees has got military and political foothold on certain parts of the islands that make up Atheism. From what we now know, the two are good allies at the moment.”

“But Atheism hasn’t declared on the Haven Pact. They have shown no justification that they will join the Imperials in this war, or the Haven Pact.”

“They have, spies looking on the international arms market found some slightly incriminating evidence but also the presence of enemy military buildings and units is good enough cause to make an example of the enemy. Atheism is too near Stevid and thus can not be ignored. In turn this means that the enemy Imperials can attack the Otium Aqua Sea, a sea we have fought hard to win from the grapple of the enemy and a strategic sea I do not wish to hand back to them. The oil there is in massive amounts and the amount of naval power stationed there, it is unlikely that the enemy would attack unless it absolutely had to for both resources and strategic purposes. But now they have naval, air and ground bases in that country then the prospect of attack is shot up and through the roof.”

“I concur.” Said Sir Alan West, the First Sea Lord of the Royal Navy. “I am not prepared to hand over the Otium Aqua, a sea we fought for with the blood of thousands, back to an enemy we can beat. If we were to launch a surprise attack on the enemy fleet and bases in the East of their country then we could end this quickly before it really gets going.”

“A large fleet is needed then? The Third? Because that country won’t be a push over, their navy is large but beatable and the Macabees has a significant presence on the islands and I think it is safe to say the naval power will be rather big in number.”

“Aye, the Third Fleet was what I was about to suggest. They went to intercept the fleet of Geneticon a couple of months ago- the enemy never arrived so they have been in harbour, drilling and out at sea practising for the day they go to war. They are ready to fight sir and I am more than happy to send them on their way to a nation that will prove to be more of a challenge that that silly thousands of miles away to the north.”

“I know exactly what you mean. Okay Admiral you have your wish, take the Third Fleet and ‘welcome’ Atheism into this God forsaken war they way Guffingford did to us… only this time we shall prevail.”

Five Hours Ago, Conberth Harbour, Stevid

The Third Fleet, having being ordered into action earlier on during the war, was ready for its instructions to go to war. Most of the main ships had remained in harbour while continuing there daily activities such as the usual drills and simulations for battle. Other ships like the smaller battleships and other escorts types were out at sea in there various squadrons patrolling Otium Aqua and performing their own ‘drills and skills’ exercises to keep the crew on top form. Morale was surprisingly very good considering Stevid’s failure to protect San Menendez city from the missile attacks of Mekugi and the aerial assault from Space Union. XXX Corps had arrived a day late to protect the city and so reached the city centre knowing full well that the remains of which would be strewn all over the place. The good morale was coming from the recent successes against Kanami and her allies in the Hanover Conflict and also, although and while ago now, the victory over the Macabees armada they sent to Otium Aqua. Other recent successes involving skirmishes with the enemy outside of Otium Aqua and the follow of raw materials from the sea kept hopes alive for everyone. Adaptus Astrates neutral oil to all combatants and the fresh and untainted supply from the Otium Aqua had kept petrol and other fuels prices down low- public support for the war was extremely high in comparison to the war being fought against Kanami. The Third Fleet had the supplies to fight a full blown war, the experience to fight practically any foe after years of anti-piracy, the state of tension between Stevid and Credonia and the Holy Panooly Civil War, plus the rigorous training the navy put its ships through made the Third Fleet a fleet full of crack ships with crack sailors.

Orders from the Admiralty came through minutes after the cabinet agreed to attack the country of Atheism, the Admiral of the Third Fleet – Fleet Admiral Scott Douglas- spent no time wasting with some of the minor procedures needed to be made in order to go to sea, war was fast and if they weren’t then all could be lost. His other reason for minor ignorance of naval procedure was that he hated politicians and knew full well that even in war times the Cabinet usually leaked like a sieve despite how ‘water tight’ the Chief Whip tried to make the Cabinet Office. Almost immediately after receiving the orders the message went out to all ships servicing in the Third Fleet that were out at sea to totally converge two hundred miles east of Atheism to meet up with the rest of the fleet. Other ships that were not part of the Third Fleet were also beckoned by the Fleet Admiral including the one Renown Class and one Prince of Wales Class SDNs that were purchased from Questers a while ago in addition with the other Super Dreadnoughts that the Navy would be sending including the new Sanguinious Class SDN. The new Hanover Class however was not yet ready for deployment. The Apex of naval ECM and missile counter measures was not to be fielded because there hadn’t been enough time to complete the full complement of ships for the whole Navy let alone the Third Fleet.

It wasn’t long before the huge mass of ships that made up half of the Third Fleet began snaking their way out of the military harbour and out to sea. The Super Dreadnoughts of the new Sanguinious Class, the Malleus Class and the older Catholic Class accompanied the command battleships of the Germanic, the Wellington and the Britannic Class out of the harbour with their various escorts. All the ships were bound for Atheism and would meet up with the rest of the fleet later. The Carriers followed afterwards, men, women and children waving farewell to loved ones and relatives as Stevid once again prepared for war with another nation. The grey hulls cut through the surprisingly calm waves of South Otium Aqua swiftly and elegantly as the small fleet sailed for deeper waters where it would meet up with the several smaller fleets that made up the Third Fleet of the Royal Navy. A second fleet of ships had already been assembled belonging to the Royal Fleet Auxiliary and would trail many miles behind with their own escorts. In the unlikely event that the Third Fleet would completely run out of ammunition the RFA would replenish the hungry vessels. Much had been learned from the conflict in Otium Aqua when Independent Hitmen’s missile carrier ship was hit by an enemy missile and exploded with most hands on board and with all the missiles. Having such ships so close to the action was not a convincing way to keep men and munitions safe and so the RFA would be protected by their own heavy escorts and also kept well away from the intense fighting.

The trip to Atheism was not one of intense sailing like the trip to Hanover was, it was only a five hour trek by sea at flank and would give the crews of all ships time to practise and prepare for the attack they were about to initiate. MI6 had brought forth valuable information about Atheism collaborating with the Golden Throne and the distinct possibility of a future invasion of Stevid. However information regarding the readiness of enemy forces in Atheisms biggest harbour was not flawed either. It was suspected that an attack by Stevid would be anticipated if the collaboration between the two countries had eve been discovered. Satellite surveillance would probably uncover Macabee bases on the mainland and show enemy naval units riding out to meet Stevid’s incoming fleet. However no such images had told Stevidian commanders this and the three Defiler Class command cruisers were working 24/7 on providing the fleet with the best ever and up-to-date coverage and information on the enemy fleet. The port that the fleet would be attacking was Kentangi Point, the largest harbour in Atheism and by far had the largest contingent of enemy naval units. An attack there would cripple the mainstay of the enemy fleet and dealing a significant morale blow to them while boosting Stevid’s. The weather satellites and Defiler command cruisers had surveyed the local regional area too with less the joyful results. As far as geography was concerned the port was excellently placed, the enemy had major shipping in the port but some weren’t of nearly the same scale as Stevid biggest ships. While this might have been a disadvantage at first glance to the enemy, it seemed the Royal Navy would have the difficulties there. The seas around the port were very shallow, to shallow for a command battleship, super carrier or a Super Dreadnought to navigate through. Small ships, carriers and LCPs would be fine but the bigger ships would have to make do with their guns and/or aircraft to deal the blow. The port itself, while at a disadvantage because of the shallow waters, was in an excellent defensive position. The lush forests of Atheism rolled pleasantly into huge rock faces and surrounded the large lagoon that was Kentangi. The cliffs and high hills made it perilous for all but the most manoeuvrable aircraft and would play havoc with naval gunnery- despite Stevid taking pride in its excellent gunnery the rock faces would prove to be a challenge that might turn into an advantage.

The enemy would be a worthy adversary and while their navy was not the largest or powerful in the world, it was still incredibly strong and flexible and worse yet, it had allies with an even more deadly foe. A foe Stevid and her allies had proven could be beaten but a foe that was still deadly and well respected by the Haven Pact’s most powerful naval superpowers. The Navy, while confident of victory, would not under estimate this enemy. Surprise was on Stevid’s side and they had to make the best of it, the Admirals of the Fleet had conferred that a strategically air strike against the harbour would be most effective while supported by a squadron of Command Battleships and their escorts to pick off the fleeing or doomed ships from long range. The Super Dreadnoughts would play no role because of depth of the sea in that part of the region.

Present Time- The Third Fleet

All was ready, the fleet was assembled in combat formation with AA frigates and destroyers making up the outer ring wall of defence and moving inward with the frigate and destroyer AS class, then the cruisers and minor battleships, then the command battleship followed by the carriers and then dotted around key points in the massive formation were the SDNs- all five of them. The war would be taken to a new level. The occupation of Atheism would tip the balance of power in the region to Stevid and would make the war turn dramatically in the favour of the Haven Pact. She was a prize, a great one that had to taken. But the first rule of the invasion of an island is the annihilation of its air force and navy- the navy was first on the list and followed swiftly by air force.

The Third Fleet had another slight advantage, reinforcements from airfields in Safehaven had bombers formations and other aircraft but most notably the famous F-16 Fighting Flacon. While an old and now rather inferior design, the updates to its computers, hard points and flyby-wire systems still made it a formidable aircraft. The F-16 was an incredibly beautiful and deadly aircraft that would play a vital role in the mopping up of enemy forces in the harbour after the more deadly carrier based Scorpions with their payload and uniqueness to carry almost any kind of weapon you could put on it. Local airfields would be attacked by other groups of Scorpions and Nightwalker air superiority aircraft that would take out aircraft while on the ground and if they got in the air. The Scorpions would make their second naval appearance ever in combat, after successfully making an impact against the Kanami navy in the first Hanover Conflict with Thermobaric bombs and the new Gothic Anti-Ship missile system, and so would prove to be a deadly opponent in the air against ground targets. The harbour facilities would be bombed with conventional weaponry and thermobaric weapon that would render all life on the ground dead or dieing, the pressure causing to crush what buildings caught in the blast radius and levelling them. The plan was simple and similar to the Japanese Attack on US Naval Base Pearl Harbour but with the addition to technology and air-to-ground naval tactics. In all aspects it should prove to be first blood to Stevid but no chances were being taken- the fleet was ready for a counter strike from the sea by either the Golden Throne or Atheism by either sea or air. If this campaign were to succeed then it would have to get off to a fine start.

10:12:51 Hours- First Strike

Planning had been careful and precise, everything hinged on surprise and so all aspects of the Royal Navy and RAF had entwined and in full cooperation with each other, both had to know the plan of action and work in correlation with each other and the plan if it were to be a success. However in these days of surveillance from space and excellent tracking technology over vast distances required the use of satellites which made surprise attacks difficult without the enemy knowing about it quickly.

The Naval commanders knew this only too well and would resort to the same tactic they used against the Macabees, Kanami and other recent enemies in naval combat. The Type-66 Dweller Class Destroyer was an incredible piece of naval technology that was one of only a few types of vessel classes in the world- a destroyer capable of tracking enemy satellites of both civilian and military usage and shooting them down with a medium sized four stage rocket. The Dweller Class would remove the danger of surprise being detected for a short time by destroying possible enemy satellites using the latest in space tracking systems. While destroying the satellites would remove the enemy’s ability to see what’s going on and would make communication between military commanders and units difficult, they would still be aware that something was terribly wrong. But their reaction times would at least be a bit slower than one would imagine without satellites. Aerial coverage and communications using satellites would be greatly affected by the Dweller Class and confusion would mount to huge levels without the Royal navy firing a shot. The eight Dweller Class destroyers had been tracking all geostationary satellites in orbit since they left port, constantly working out speed, trajectory, placement, size and national origin. All allies within the Haven Pact had given Stevid their national identification signals on their satellites and also the co-ordinates for each one for the fact it was easier to get data off one another for the purposes of winning the war and for the Navy to single out friendly satellites from enemy ones.

Continuous filtering of invalid targets and other debris in space left the navy with a total of twenty possible target satellites belonging to the military, a total of twelve possible weather satellites and around twenty eight civilian media and telecommunication satellites. Both the Military and telecommunication satellites would be destroyed while the weather satellites would remain until the attack had proceeded- the enemy would get a good look at the carnage afterwards.
The fleet was now a fair distance away from the islands of Atheism and well within airborne striking distance in less than twenty minutes, now was time to take out the satellites. A total of forty-eight missiles would be fired at the designated targets by the destroyers that had worked flat out for more than five hours to gain a total lock on the satellites. The VLS tube doors opened on all of the destroyers as each one launched three missiles at a time, the smoke and fire consumed the immaculate deck of the ships as the Spike missiles raced for their targets, the ships continued to fire their missiles until all forty-eight were launched. The blue plasma screens in the missile control room tracked the missiles every step of the way, the beauty of space was its zero gravity, a ball bearing the size of a bottle cap could tear a whole in the fragile surface of a shuttle or satellite. These missiles carried explosives and ball bearings the size of lap tops and all were heading for their targets, one by one the missiles detonated or released their deadly cargo upon the satellites with guaranteed success of heavily damaging or destroying them.

The first stage was complete, under the ‘Fog of War’ the Navy and RAF could begin their surprise campaign of havoc.

10:30:08 Hours- The Third Fleet

The super carriers and fleet carriers were ready, planes on deck and a further more below ready to take to the elevators to the deck. Nightwalkers and Scorpions were armed with everything they could be. The First wave of Scorpions were armed with an assortment of weapons: Four Gothic Type I anti-ship missiles, two AIM-9 Sidewinders and a collection of thermobaric bombs for their mission to attack the fleet stationed in the harbour- the Defiler Class command cruiser providing them with a constant update with visuals and target identification and concentration feed. The Nightwalkers were armed with four AIM-9 Sidewinders, two XLMA long range air-to-air missiles and two Gothic Type I missiles for ground attack duties- both types of plane with their 20mm cannons for strafing. The smaller fleet carriers would have the modified Sea Tornado F3’s Euro Fighters and the Raptors for eventual fleet defence and the mopping up of air and ground targets in the harbour.

The RAF was sending in their own equipment on a far less glorified scale: one hundred and twenty F-16 Fighting Falcons armed for ground attack and the new B-6a Armburst tactical bomber purchased off the arms market before the destruction of San Menendez city. The bombers, along with naval air support, would attack the local airfields near to the harbour with escort from some of the F-16’s and Nightwalkers the navy would be sending. A large proportion of the F-16’s would join the fray around the harbour after the first wave but just before the second wave if time was on their side. If not then they’d be late and arrive in time to attack what ever was left after the second wave. A possible third wave of attacks would depend on the success of the second wave after surprise is lost.

The firing of the Spike missiles was the key for six Germanic Class, three Wellington Class and one Britannic Class command and control battleships plus eight escorting cruisers and minor shipping to sail ahead of the fleet bound for the harbour were shelling would take place during the first attack wave. It was also the que for the hundreds of planes that would be taking off for the harbour momentarily. A total of three hundred and sixty planes of the Nightwalker and Scorpion class began taking off in organised order from the fleet’s super carriers, the other less brilliant aircraft onboard the smaller fleet carriers were on standby, the old Sea Harriers had already taken off and began patrols some distance from the fleet looking for possible trouble. ASW helicopter began probing the sea for possible submarine insertion to find nothing out of the ordinary- yet. Soon the air was filled with black silhouettes of the hundreds of aircraft which began filtering out into smaller and more organised air wings with the fighters in groups of seven or ten flying higher and slightly faster than the Scorpions who were busy preparing themselves for the main assault.

Under fog of war the attack came from the Scorpions flying low to avoid land based radar around the harbour’s natural defences. While this may not have been terribly effective as detection was probably likely because the Scorpions did not of effective stealth features, surprise was still in Stevid’s hands. Communications were slower with satellite assistance although the landlines were probably working just fine. If the low flying Scorpions had been detected then the enemy fleet and harbour defences would have less than three minutes to get defences online and ready for action, expecting an attack from the sea. Some Nightwalkers and Scorpions began a run along the flanks, penetrating inland and using the local natural land formations against the enemy radar that could not see through solid rock. From three fronts the attack cam on Kentangi Harbour which instantly lit up the enemy’s naval radars. If their radar could identify the nationality of the attacking planes then it would seem strange the Stevid were flying around these parts in blatant violation of airspace. Why they were here would be another question shooting through the minds of those on the ground. All was to be revealed soon as the first wing of seven Scorpions appeared over the rock face ridge at a rather slow speed. The whole harbour open to them to attack. The battleships and carriers stuck out like sore thumbs in comparison to the rest of the shipping in the harbour. The Scorpions banks down and round and headed for some of the larger carriers in dock, more planes were now spilling over the ridge to the North and to the South, out to sea in the East more planes became visible as the crews on the ships suddenly realised with intense horror at what was probably going to happen. The first Scorpions that appeared dropped one Gothic Missile each that was programmed by the pilot on board while in flight to fly at altitude and fall on the deck of the carrier one missile each- seven on all at the first four carriers in line across the quayside in the centre of the harbour. The missiles fell a couple of feet at first before the RAMjet kicked in, the carriers probably had just realised the missile launch and were about to go to Action Stations just as the missiles hit.

Sailors looked up in surprise as four columns of smoke suddenly became visible at the far end of the harbour. More explosions as further AS missiles hit home on the hulls of the carriers, battleships and cruisers. The planes became suddenly more pronounced now as the low flying showed the unmistakable blue ring with a red filling insignia that showed the tell tale sign of a Royal Navy jet of Stevid. More explosions erupted as sailors below rushed to find cover or something to shoot at the planes with. Twenty minutes into the attack and the enemy began AA fire shooting down, incredibly, twenty planes in quick succession that were still fully armed. Scorpions that had dropped their payload began to head back to the mother ships, strafing targets on the ground and on the ships as they went while fresh planes still arriving from the carriers continued the assault on the shipping. Cruisers began taking punishment in replacement for the battleships- the carriers still being made to suffer. AA fire was sporadic but still effective and even some of the destroyers and cruiser found some life in their CIWS cannons and began shooting down their share of planes. A small squadron of ten planes (Scorpions) broke formation and went single without wingmen and dropped down low and fast and released an ECM pod each around the harbour. Enemy CIWS fire and missile engagement became fragmented and ineffective suddenly and the air units found themselves unharassed by missile and auto-fire but manned machine guns continued to spit shrapnel out at the aircraft.

A final missile plunged into battleship’s magazine compartment and blew the prow of the ship sky high in a spectacular explosion, similar incidents occurred on the battered carrier force in harbour as one or two carriers exploded in colossal fashion, their crews fighting to save any one they could. The Nightwalkers kept up the air support from the couple of planes that the carriers had scrambled, shooting them down with ease but they too found the irresistible urge to do some damage to the harbour. The sea walls protecting the harbour were the target and twenty Nightwalkers fired both their Gothic Missiles at the wall and watched the opening it had disintegrate into the sea clogging up part of the entrance to the harbour.
Some of the smaller ships began to make a break for it as now the cruisers and minor escort vessels began to take a battering, ECMP pods were dropped again to increase the survival rate of the missiles one more time as numerous ships were hit by the AS missiles. Several Nightwalkers dropped in low to one of the battleships that was in the process of capsizing and began strafing the water and hull of the ships that was teeming with sailors trying to swim from the sinking hulk. The bullets kicked up water in a straight line and cut into to bodies of those in the way before the aircraft pulled up and away to continue air cover duties. The harbour facilities were yet to be hit properly and were being left for the second wave.

Most of the Scorpions that had dropped their Gothic missiles then switched to their lethal thermobaric bombs and turned to the survivors in the water. The bombs dropped into the air and detonated above the target area, the pressure killing many and the aftermath of the air being sucked for the area leaving other lifeless husks floating on the water- acting in similar fashion to a nuclear attack but without the fall out made it a deadly weapon against solid structures and human beings. Scorpions that had them swiftly dropped them on those floating around the battleships and carriers sitting in port before continuing with the frigates and destroyers and then move on back to the carriers out at sea.

11:00:33 Hours, Ten Miles Inland

The harbour was in the process of being attack and word had gotten through of successful surprise with little resistance although reports of unexpectedly high losses from ground AA fire. Loss of aircraft to enemy units was nil since the carriers had been hit first but that was soon to change if the local airbases were not hit. Like in Pearl Harbour, the Stevidian Navy ordered that nearby airfields were also to be attacked. No doubt that word had gotten through to the air bases that an attack was in progress but time was against them. Just over seventy aircraft consisting of both Nightwalkers and Scorpions were heading for an airbase ten miles form the port, three other air bases had been designated for attack and a further seventy aircraft for each base were flying to attack them too.

Below on this air base, Codename Zulu, men and women were seen rushing below and scattering as the planes flew in from all directions. These scorpions were not armed with Gothic missiles but with SOD bomb dispensers and heavy 2000 pound bombs. They turned and dived low and then released the rocket SODs which in turn released their own payload of bomblets and minor explosive munitions which strafed in a long line across the airfield. The aircraft hangers were targeted first by the planes dropping the SODs watching them explode in fashion. Some remained unscathed as the bombs exploded next to nothing volatile but some detonated the munitions on planes or the ammo dumps. Fires brewed around the airfield as the planes swept down for further attacks, the Nightwalkers lying in wait above the airfield at high altitude. Finally the enemy found some momentum and got some aircraft moving on the runway and even got a fair few in the air and began to get some altitude and distance from the airfield. One enemy aircraft in the air was one too many and now that at least ten or twenty were beginning to taxi to the runway to follow the ten that had already made it off the airstrip, the Scorpions reacted quickly and abandoned the strafing of facilities. The climbed rapidly and began to dive bomb the runway with the 2000lb free fall bombs, they were dropped on the runways to try and prevent further take-off attempts from succeeding The accuracy was variable, some bombs were perfectly place and caused huge craters in the tarmac, others weren’t quite so accurate and simply exploded near to or half on half off the runway. The allied Stevidian RAF bomber force would finish the airfields and largest ships in the harbour off for good, but they were no where to be seen.

Communication contact with them was still established and it was confirmed by the Defiler Classes that they were indeed late and would arrive just as the second wave were to arrive. Their F-16 escorts were already present and ready to fight and so the fleet carriers launched their Sea Tornado F3’s to fly continuous escort for the bombers while the F-16s and Scorpions got to work on the harbour facilities.

Surprise was lost but replaced with a slightly less than perfect attack, forty aircraft were lost over the harbour to AA fire, a number that was no where near the low estimates of only twenty- a number that was shot down in just a couple of minute. Twenty enemy aircraft were confirmed in the air and further unconfirmed reports of enemy aircraft had taken off was just short of totally unacceptable. And while all enemy aircraft were about to be engaged by the Nightwalkers flying top cover, it was certainly not quite clockwork. The attack on the harbour had been difficult because of the terrain and limited space but the damage on the fleet had been done. The next wave plus the bomber formation and F-16s would finish off the crippled and operational shipping with bombing and then the harbour facilities…but in good time seeing as the RAF were late.

First Wave Statistics

Aircraft Numbers

320+ Naval Aircraft of Nightwalker Air Superiority Type and Scorpion Ground Attack Type

50x B-6a Armbursts expected
120x F-16 Fighting Falcons expected

Overview

Nightwalkers flying top cover with several air wings attacking ground targets and aircraft launched by carriers.
Nightwalkers currently engaging enemy fighters escaping attacked airfields.
Scorpions currently engaging light and heavy shipping in the harbour and strafing sailor targets and weak harbour facilities
Scorpions currently engaging three different and strategic airfields, attacking ground targets and airfield facilities- not engaging aircraft.
Small fleet currently moving in on harbour, preparing to bombard during second wave.
Allied bomber and fighter force inbound and will attack during second wave, the second wave will launch when the majority of the first wave head back to mother ships.

Fleet Manifest

Command and Control

2x Defiler Class (One in port at Safehaven and one present in the fleet)

1x Sanguinious Class SDN (HMS Danté)
1x Malleus Class SDN (HMS St. Daniel)
1x Catholic Class SDN (HMS Benedict VXII)
1x Prince of Wales Class SDN (HMS Prince of Edinburgh)
1x Renown Class SDN (HMS Respite)

35x Germanic Class BBCN
27x Wellington Class BBCN
23x Britannic Class BBCN

Carrier Force

12x Conroy Class (Super Carrier)
16x Enterprise Class (Super Carrier)
19x Faye Class (Fleet Carrier)
16x Sunderland Class (Super Carrier)
12x Illustrious Class (Fleet Carrier)

Cruisers, Minor Battleships and Escorts

10x Centaur-X Class Destroyers
35x Derbyshire Class Guided Missile Frigates
35x Gazelle Class Guided Missile Frigates (1/4 defending RFA)
40x Camden Class Guided Missile Frigates
17x Domination Class Battleships
16x Long Sword Class Battleships
35x May Leaf Class ASW and Carrier Escorts (Half also defending RFA)
30x Stevid AA Class
35x Nottingham Class Anti-Ship ship
35x Northern Class Multi-role vessels (Also protecting RFA)
36x Broadsword Class Escorts
40x Duke Class Escorts
40x Discovery Class Multi-Purpose Destroyer (Some also defending RFA)
40x Daring Class Destroyers
35x Kingsley Class Escorts
37x Sheffield Class Escorts

Corvettes and Patrol Boats

120x Various Collection of Patrol boats and minor corvettes performing mine sweeping and ASW duties

TOTAL: 803 Ships minus LCPs and RFA

Athiesism

22-12-2006, 05:26

Seagulls lept off the hull of the Pragem as she began moving. The lines had been cast off and tied to the pier just a few minutes ago, leaving the ship to float peacefully up and down. Now white foam was forming in front of her, leaping and diving across the deck until it slid astern. The Pragem was slowly picking up speed, and was not quite cutting through the water, but already the sailors on top of the conning tower could feel wind against their faces.

"Would you like a jacket, Commander?"

Jursai was one of the few people allowed to call the Captain by name, but he rarely did so. A degree of respect was shared between the two, although the same could not be said of the crew. Both of them had known each other for most of their careers, up to now, their first submarine deployment. It took some readjustment to command a crew of people who neither of them had met before. A crew of men and women that had been hobbled together, just like the rest of the Navy, in desperate preparation for war.

"No. Thank you, XO."

Jursai walked beside the captain to get a better view of the shore. He had seen it too many times before to enjoy the view, but for some reason, he felt that he had to look at it once more before their long patrol began. The captain met his eyes, and for a second they looked at each other, compelled to find something to say. The commander spoke first.

"Do you think that just because I'm a girl I can't stand winter, Jursai?"

"Well, I was expecting you to think that, ma'am." It was a shared joke that they poked at from time to time. Captain Amanda Wright smiled back, which lit up her face slightly but didn't change it from the half-grimace it always was. Her carefully cropped hair, which stopped a few inches short of her shoulders, gave her a very disciplined look even as it waved slightly from the wind. As most of the crew said behind her back, she looked like one of those women who you glanced at for an instant, thinking she was a man, but then quickly realised her face had feminine features and the masculine look was from, to be blunt, ugliness. Her personality fit her mixed-up appearance perfectly, especially in the way that she had argued against women on submarines. But the old tradition was fading away. The "new-age" spaceborne Merkaris were tearing it down, and Athiesism could do little to change that, even if, as Commander Wright once said, "it's not right send our fighting women underwater and surround them with these horny bastards". Even if a nation of 10 million was having serious problems manning its armed forces.

The joke that Amanda couldn't stand the cold was old and well-worn, but she and the XO still chuckled. Amanda was feeling small knives of cold reach into her hand, however, and felt that it was time to go below decks and wait for the heater to activate. She always tried to appear strong in front of her "men", but there were only a few officers on the conning tower, and they wouldn't mind if she went below for a minute. With a quick farewell to Jursai, she climbed down the ladder.

The combat information center was full of activity, as it always seemed. Cramming so many people and computers in a small room was bound to create a lot of noise and light, whether or not any work was actually getting done. The efficiently-designed CIC made it easy to get from one side to the other despite the squeeze. One officer in particular was seated at the far end, apparently doing nothing.

"Navigation! Current heading!"

Utun snapped his neck toward Mrs. Wright, appearing to be a little surprised. Perhaps all the noise and light had prevented him from noticing her arrival. Or maybe he had simply been napping. "One second..."

The voice-activated console responded more quickly than the officer did, outputting the heading on the screen. Captain Wright could, of course, easily found this out herself, but it made her smile inside to humiliate Utun once again.

"Amanda, everything's set. Automation is func-"

"How do you adress a superior officer, Lieutenant?"

Utun didn't appear fazed at all, and continued speaking. "Automation protocol Zebra is in place. The ship'll handle herself, ma'am." He spoke the last sentence casually, adding no special emphasis on the "ma'am". It was always like the new sailors to ignore custom to the point of disrespect, a Merkari trait in the first place. Amanda, despite her anger, couldn't think of an effective reply. If no other option was available the only thing you could do was walk away and attend to more important matters.

//\\ //\\ //\\

Although going deep would be the tactical thing to do, Amanda felt safe in Kentangi Point harbor. Not only was the local naval aviation base flying CAP over the area, but the high manmade hills and thick city nearby gave good cover, while the shallow waters made it hard for submarines or large ships to enter. A well-positioned naval base.

The crew's only concern was their mission- to intercept and study the Stevidian battlegroup that had brought them to sea in the first place. Although the Pragem had been scheduled to leave a few days later, as soon as Macabee intelligence reported that the fleet was preparing to leave, the Pragem and London, among other vessels, had been ordered to sea immediately to shadow and spy upon the group. The sortie was of no special concern to the Naval Staff. As far as everyone

The Pragem was surfaced and traveling at four knots, just enough to maintain steerage. The London, her "wingman" ship, was behind schedule in getting to sea, so Amanda had to wait. The shallow waters made diving slightly risky, so it was best to stay surfaced until open sea was reached.

What a way to wait for New Year's day!, Jursai thought. As a Merkari tradition, the "early New Year's Day" was fading away, but it was still better to party than to spend your holiday cut off from the rest of the world. He had chosen to go to sleep early to prepare for the ship's early-morning departure rather than to head over the club for a night for an early celebration with the rest of the crew. He stroked his beard, which, although not very long, wasn't trimmed or maintained at all. He had originally tried for the airborne, keeping his beard trimmed as per their custom, but never made it. Instead, he found himself at home in the very opposite environment- submarines. Other than his facial hair, which was long and had made him look unusually old at his recent thirty-first birthday, he looked short, compact and athletic.

The Commander had retired for a moment and left the XO on watch. Jursai had been looking over the situation projection for several minutes now. There was little else to do as the inevitably boring submarine patrol began. For the next six months, they would be underwater, cut of from all external stimuli other than the dull hall lights and uncomfortably bright computer screens. Too many depressing thoughts were flowing in. Jursai realized this, and tried to stay away from them and find work to do.

"We're picking up a new contact on datalink." Jursai paused, keeping his eyes on the situation map, waiting for the sensor officer to continue.

"Sir?"

"What is it?"

"AWACs has picked up incoming sea-skimmers from general direction of Cream." Cream- codename for Stevid. Jursai felt a surge of anxiety for just a moment, but quickly calmed. The war couldn't be on.

"Noted, sensors."

The XO continued his casual scan of the situation map. After a few seconds, aircraft markers began to appear along the coast only a few dozen miles away. Without him noticing it, Jursai's hand began to shiver. He slowly turned away from the map and toward his crew, who were simply staring at him.

"Weapons, load tube two, flood tube one."

"Aye!"

Every officer seemed wide-eyed and solemn. This added to Jursai's apprehension, but he still could not believe that a war was on. Although he wanted to wake the Captain, he felt an urge not to, an urge to calm down and realize that this was no problem. A few minutes passed, the torpedoes were reported ready, and the cruise missiles continued to close. Stevidian territory was so close that those missiles could be fired from harbor and hit targets in Athiesism soon after.

"Sir, message on Satcom!" A prinout began rolling out of a machine. As the XO walked to snatch it, an explosion sounded. It was soft and sounded far away, but this was no doubt due to the hull muffling it. This broke Jursai's nerve, and he felt reality slap him in the face. The war was on.

"Wake the Comma-"

His sentece was interrupted by a solid rocket impact. Jursai felt helpless he was knocked to his side, sending his shoulder flying into something soft. As he slowly got up to see what had happened, the first thing he noticed was a stream of blood on his jacket. The second thing he saw was the officer he had run into, who was laying on the floor, grabbing his bleeding nose with both hands. The XO no longer felt like a leader, wishing that someone else was standing there to take over. But as everyone in the CIC got to their feet he knew that a decision had to be made.

"Dive! Dive! Dive!"

//\\ //\\ //\\

The blast of the base's 500-gallon fuel tank had woken Lieutenant Kassem from his sleep. His first waking sight was the concrete floor in front of him, and his second, as he stood up to get his bearings, his overturned bunk. It all made no sense, he thought- it had to be a dream. But the sight of an overturned C-94 transport in front of him, with ground crew running about like ants trying to calm the fire, assured him that this was more terrible than any dream.

He felt unhurt, perhaps because of his drowsiness and surprise. He placed his hands on the ground, pushed himself up with shaking arms, and tried to stand. This was when his jammed toe began to shoot fire up his leg, which overwhelmed him at first. He realized that the pain would not go away, though, so he decided to run outside the barracks and see what had started this fire.

As Kassem walked out the door, his mild curiosity turned into an electric shock. Everywhere he turned there were fires, smoke drifting through the bright morning sky, people running around like mad. A sonic boom alerted him to two aircraft flying overhead, which Kassem tried to identify. But the planes were too fast, and their paint scheme too dull, for him to spot national markings. Regardless, he knew exactly what was happening at this point. Contingency Cream-Beta - Stevidian surprise attack.

He moved forward as if trying to run for his assigned scramble aircraft, its location programmed into his brain after countless drills, but an impulse stopped him. He quickly realized that his brain was telling him not to run through open ground during a battle; he was vulnerable enough standing in the doorway of the barracks. Apparently every other pilot had had the sense to find safety. Except one. "Qusay!"

"Don't stand there like an idiot, Patterson! Get to your aircraft!"

Kassem turned to see Patterson and his whole squadron behind him, rushing out the far barracks door for their aircraft. Another urge gripped the lieutenant, an urge to simply follow his wingmates who seemed to know so much more about the situation than him. He ran after them through the empty ground toward the alert hangars, but by the time he began to feel naked it was too late; a Stevidian pilot had spotted the gaggle of sprinting pilots and flew a strafing run, sending brains and limbs into the air. Lieutenant Qusay paused from the sheer power of the moment.

For some reason, he had been rather unmoved by it all. Another spike of pain from his injured toe brought awareness. All of his comrades had been shot to pieces; there was smoke, noise, and the smell of smoke everywhere; and he was standing in front of a pool of blood streaks soaking dead and living men into its coppery lake. The only thing he could think of was run from it toward the nearest familiar roof. A few seconds later, he consciously realized he was screaming, and tried to stop.

"Comrade Kassem!"

"Comrade! Lieutenant!"

"Qusay, Qusay!"

As he ran from the carnage, the powerful feeling of "gravity" that had pulled him away from the slaughter began to recede. He stopped and looked in front of himself, realizing that he was near a familiar, shaded hangar. The ground crew, who had apparently stopped to watch him, were running toward him to bring him inside. Qusay had questions, many questions, but for some reason couldn't bring himself to speak clearly.

"Lieutenant Kassem, we're readying your aircraft..."

"T... the... there's a..."

"Are you fit to fly, lieutenant?"

"Y... yuh..."

"Put him in the cockpit, we need every plane we can get."

Once again, Kassem came to his senses. Drill and practice took over. He climbed into the cockpit. Going about the preflight checks stoically as explosions sounded all around him and the smell of smoke crept into his nostrils. Thoughts of fear crept in from time to time, but he had a job to do, and all of the focus he could muster was devoted to it.

"Lieutenant, permission to speak freely!"

"Lieutenant!"

"Qusay, there's no time! You're armed and ready! Get your ass in the air!"

The crewwoman was right. Kassem saluted, closed the canopy, and waited for the ground crew to get a safe distance away before spooling up the engines. The taxi out felt like a rush hour in hell. Other aircraft to his left and right were moving down the runway, occasionaly getting blasted. Just after clearing the hardened aircraft shelter, Qusay realized that he was going to get killed if he followed the taxi line. His dark tan skin began to shine as it sweated, loosening his grip on the joystick. In war, there was no time for flight gloves.

The Su-35K was fully capable of short-field takeoff. There was a clear, beatiful taxiway in front of him going to waste, so, without braking to power up in place, he turned, jammed the throttle to full power, and wished he knew a prayer to say. Perhaps there are no atheists in foxholes. While the plane began to roll forward with a solid jerk, Qusay powered up the HUD, not bothering to set the radio. As the HUD flickered on, it told him just what he need to know- 200 kilometers per hour, takeoff speed. As he gently pulled back on the stick, he made a brief scan of the sky. A jet was fixed onto his six o'clock even though the Su-35K had not even left the ground. A missile shot forth, causing Kassem to reach for the countermeasures panel. No need; the heat-homer sailed harmlessly into a nearby fire.

As soon as he was able to retract the landing gear, the lieutenant was able to catch sight of Kentangi Point harbor. The point was a familiar place, somewhere that he had flown over hundreds of times, but what he saw totally confounded his memory. Nothing seemed the same. Carrier Row was ablaze, with a few of the beautiful, mighty vessels rolled over onto their side. Silver specks raced across the sea- either cruise missiles or more Stevidian aircraft. Much of the rest of the view was obscured by burning fuel tanks on the artifical island situated in the center of the harbor. A few cannon rounds flew over the cockpit, reminding him to get back to flying.

Enough was enough. Kassem selected the AA-12 dogfight missile- time for close-in revenge. His pursuer sped in front of him, right inside launch parameters. The lock-on tone growled louder and louder until Kassem pulled the trigger. Fox one!

//\\ //\\ //\\

THE ATTACK

All morning, Stevidian aircraft dealt a thorough pounding to Kentangi Point. The attacks were devastatingly effective, proving to the Naval Staff it's folly in concentrating all of its major assets in one place. The Staff vastly overestimated Kentangi's defenses, and, although it was a well-positioned base, offering thorough cover and good lines of fire, the nation of Athiesism was caught unawares on December 21st, 2026.

The disaster had begun with the failure of Kentangi AWACs to locate the first waves of Scorpion bombers, which easily slipped passed the radar-equipped Sira heavy-lift helicopters hovering high over the harbor. Skillful low-altitude, low-speed flying by the Stevidian pilots caused the radar operators to confuse the bombers with Weytras, small and very fast birds native to the island. Large Weytra flocks had caused several false alarms, and even fighter scrambles, over the past few weeks during their winter migration. Noone seemed to think anything was amiss when the target groups flew in from the sea and continued on their course for hundreds of miles. An alert was not posted until ground-based observers identified one of these "bird flocks" as Stevidian-flagged aircraft. Even then, Naval Aviation command hesitated in ordering a scramble, and it was not until bombs started falling in Kentangi Point harbor that Merkar realized it was at war.

The crew of the MRS Pragem, several miles out to sea and enclosed in a thick hull, at first didn't even know that their base was under attack. However, the eruption of the carrier MRS Seth was barely loud enough to be heard by them. A Scorpion, it's assigned target already destroyed, fired a missile at the sub. However, the SSGN's missile-defense laser burnt out the weapon's seeker head just short of the target, causing a near miss. Lieutenant Commander Jursai ordered a hasty dive, accidentaly slamming his sub into the seafloor. Fortunatley, the collision was not too hard, and the Pragem was able to bounce back up and proceed out to sea at a slow, tactical speed.

The great number of ships in the harbor made a fat target for Stevid, but at the same time, the warships were able to put up a strong air defense. The local naval commander had carefully planned out zones of fire in advance, creating a temporary death trap for enemy aircraft until a direct hit on a nuclear submarine caused a small reactor leak that disrupted harbor fire control.

At the several air bases that were supposed to be guarding the harbor, chaos took firm grip. A general reluctance to believe that a war was on was coupled with the communication difficulties caused by the shootdown of several communications satellites. Most pilots were not even awaken from their hangover resulting from the Merkari New Year celebration until an explosion at their airbase let them know to get into the air. Although the alert aircraft were on the scene quickly, the shootdown of the harbor AWACs exacerbated IFF problems, causing several of the scrambled aircraft to shoot each other down. The few remaining decided to return to base rather than charge straight into the horde of Stevidian fighter-bombers. On the ground, aircraft had been clustered together in an attempt to foil espionage attempts, but this simply made them all the more suceptible to thermobaric bombs. Almost all aircraft at the attacked airbases were destroyed.

As in all stories of incompetence and cowardice, however, their were heroes that day. At Base Zulu one Lieutenant Qusay Kassem was able to take off. Although officially only a lieutenant, experience in the Merkari armed forces is represented by appointment, not by pay grade, and Lieutenant Kassem was actually a very experienced and long-serving fighter wing commander. After several minutes of dogfighting, he fled before the incoming Stevidian fighter sweeps toward a Macabbean airfield. Hoping to loose his pursuers in the base's air-defence screen, he flew low in fast, causing nervous Macabbean gunners to misidentify his aircraft and shoot him down. Kassem ejected and was picked up later the same day by search-and-rescue and returned to another Athiesism airbase. The lieutenant, who had been through a lot that day, was pitied by the base commander. He thought that Kassem deserved not only two Scorpion bombers painted on his aircraft's nose but also a Silver Leaf to keep in his medal box.

By noontime, most of the combat fleet at Kentangi had put to sea to escape the radiation being emitted by a small reactor leak on a nuclear submarine. Shipboard automation, combined with a war footing that had existed for months throughout the fleet, allowed at least the departure of the fleet to go smoothly for the Merkaris. Sailors were pulled from logsitics vessels, which were left to sink, and loaded on to carriers, destroyers and submarines to move away before more attacks arrived. Some submarines moved to buy time for the surface vessels to escape- in these shallow waters, Stevidian ASW would have a hard time pursuing the fleet through the submarine gauntlet, and after a few torpedoes were fired by both sides they gave up the chase. The second attack wave found very few warships left in Kentangi Point harbor, but did manage to finish off many logistics vessels. Attacks on airfields were another matter- Athiesism's outdated Su-35Ks and their unskilled pilots gave anemic resistance to Nightwalker fighters flying cover for this wave.

Significant Merkari Losses

Casualties: Early estimates rise above 100,000, plus civillians

Over 1,000 aircraft
Several dozen satellites
34 Athena-class carriers
112 Erschoff-class destroyers
6 Shark-class SSGNs, including one that suffered a small reactor leak which spewed radiation for hours until a civillian construction team was ordered to seal it with concerete
200+ logistics vessels
Extensive damage to several airfields and Kentangi Point military and civillian harbor facilities

Significant Remaining Forces

5,000 Su-35K aircraft
No satellites at all
76 Athena-class carriers
588 Erschoff-class destroyers
94 Shark-class SSGNs
About 200-300 logistics and mine warfare vessels
200 Spear missile boats
15,000 Broadsword tanks
10,000 Macabbean-manufactured IFVs
10,000 Tarantula MLRS
Half a million infantry

Exactly two weeks after December 7th... 'tis the season to catch the other guy with his pants down...

//\\ //\\ //\\

The now-familiar sounds of destruction had passed, and the Pragem had slipped deep beneath the waves into open water. It was now far too distant to hear whatever was happening on land, but everyone on board was fully aware of it.

SATCOM had sent a hopelessly garbled transmission just before the submarine dived. The only thing that could be learned from this is that Merkar, ironically, had lost the war in space, its destroyed satellites spouting random signals or distorted orders as they crashed through the atmosphere. Foolishly, the nation had prepared no defense or counterstrike for this kind of attack.

Lieutenant Utun had realized that there was finally work to be done and had gone to work studying the navigation diagrams. He had never thought that it would come to this. Straight out of technical school into a two-year conscription aboard a cramped, smelly submarine. He had tried to keep his head high when dealing with his arrogant commander, a woman, but she was too headstrong. It was a working relationship destined for disaster- a conscript crew who had hardly been underwater in their life forced to follow a demanding captain whom they had never met before.

Alone, the Pragem was a small fish in a vast ocean. There was little they could do to avenge today's disaster now. Contingency Cream Beta called for the fleet to rally south of Bigtoa in preparation for a counteroffensive; with satellite communications blasted away, this knowledge was all the submarine had to go off of. Utun was searching for the best route around the Point and to the rendezvous; although he knew it was best to stay shallow, no particularly good idea presented itself. The only person who could give him advice was the Captain.

Amanda was standing over the same navigation display on the other side of the table, keeping away from Utun but near her only real friend and ally, Executive Officer Jursai. Utun hardly knew the man, but Utun had little faith in his abilities, so he started a conversation in Tasmanian with the Captain.

"I recommend we stay shallow."

Amanda was exhausted from insisting that every comment be prefixed with "ma'am". She simply gave out a short, barely noticeable sigh, and replied back in the same language.

"Maybe, Lieutenant. I'm thinking of a course through here..."

Amanda walked around the table out of her dark corner, exposing her to the light, which made her squint. Her pale skin, as white as sea salt, contrasted with Utun's rich tan. It made it hard to believe that she understood Tasmanian, but she had been adopted by a Tasmanian mother, who had given Amanda a slight accent, it seemed. Rumor had it that the Captain was the bastard child of some ugly European tourist.

"Away from the coast?"

Amanda licked her lips, dry from lack of drink and exhaustion after staying up for too long. "Lieutenant... Listen, Utun," she said, temporarily breaking from military protocol and apparently not caring at this point. "You know that we picked up propellor noises in this area hours ago. There has to be a Stevidian fleet around here. If we sit in shallow and wait for some swinging dick to come and find us, we'll die..." Jursai, of course, couldn't decipher the language that the two of them were speaking in, but he noticed the stern tone and felt that another fight was coming on between Utun and Amanda. "I'll be returning to my quarters, ma'am." The Captain paced around the map, resuming her sentence as Jursai closed the door behind him. "...and besides, our job is to sink as many ships as we can. The rest of the fleet will need it."

After Jursai left, Utun switched back to English, which he was slightly more comfortable with. "It's best to get back with the fleet. Our orders are to link up with the fleet, the fleet will cover us, we're not going to get shot at by mistake by our own guys. It isn't for us to get killed and win some damn medal."

"Young man, even if you don't act like it sometimes, I am the captain, you are the map boy, your job is to listen to me. Understand?"

Utun covered his mouth and yawned silently. He did not want to stay in this room. "I'll be returning to my quarters, ma'am." With that, Captain Wright was alone.

The navigation officer wasn't the only one. The whole crew would rather sit back and let someone else defend their country. This would be so easy to do. But what they didn't realize is that there were some things worth fighting for. Merkaris by nature worked for themselves, they did not fight for something greater. But now, if they were to preserve this way of life, they would have to. A nation of ten million against seven billion- was there a chance? There could be. If the Merkari are stronger.

If Utun wasn't going to handle course plotting, Amanda would. She sipped her coffee and prepared for a long night.

Stevid

22-12-2006, 21:34

OOC: I dunno if you think the raid is finished because that was just the first wave. If you have continued assuming that it’s over then that’s fine and I’ll just use the references about the shelling and bombing run. Besides, the second wave was only just to cause infrastructure damage.

IC:

The surprise attack had been a huge success as the first wave planes began filtering back on to their home carriers, no one expected quite so much luck with the initial attack, many even thought that the whole mission had been compromised by enemy detection suites- it now became obvious that misunderstandings on the enemy’s side led to the attack succeeding. The news kept getting better, despite the enemy’s navy still presenting itself as a very solid force to reckon with, the number of shipping that was destroyed had been excessively high, higher than first estimates made it out to be. Reports of ‘Carrier Row’ being trashed to oblivion weren’t quite as farfetched as the Commanders first thought. Aerial satellite photos showed wide spread destruction of Carrier Row and a number of flat tops burned intensely in real-time footage, one partly capsized in the shallow harbour waters.
It didn’t stop there either, over two hundred logistical ships had been destroyed and over one hundred escorts had been either destroyed or severely damaged, carrier numbers were around the mid-nineties and so far the chief analysts could guess the casualties but one assumed they were in the thousands.

The attack on the airfields hadn’t been quite so glamorous but the airfields had been hit extremely hard with numerous planes being destroyed on the ground and many good, probably excellent, pilots killed on the ground. The thermobaric weaponry worked perfectly on the buildings and tightly packed planes on the airfields and had left many hangers and jets in total ruin. Bombing of the runways proved rather ineffective because of the amazing take-off speed of these newly encountered aircraft of the enemy’s- a take-off speed of 200 to get off the ground was pretty incredible and many enemy pilots didn’t need the runways or the tower for take-off. The Fleet Air Arm did what they good to make sure the airfields wouldn’t be used anytime soon and the enemy port was a good as gone as far as shipping was concerned- with a few escapees avoiding the doom from above.

Not all was over though, a small but potentially devastating strike was yet to be made by the ‘late’ RAF. The B-6a Armburst Tactical Bombers plus the F-16s sent in to finish the port and airfields were now closing in. Enemy resistance hadn’t been crushed but the blow to morale was well below the belt. The high altitude bombers were armed with simple laser guided heavy bombs and the F-16s with thermobarics and heavy bombs as well to wipe out the strategic and vital infrastructure that remained. The raid was swift and barely noticeable really through the carnage in the sea. The bombs were released and the glided to their targets including the harbour master’s tower, ship building and repair facilities, dry docks and mooring quays, some of the already lost ships were again caught in the resulting explosions. The F-16s attacking the port were now swooping in dropping their own cargo on the lighter and more fragile buildings, the thermobaric bombs causing wide spread devastation to the pockets of buildings that were flattened shortly thereafter by the resulting explosion. 2000lb bombs tore into more solid targets like Naval GHQs and even some carriers that had refused to sink. The raid was light but the infrastructure had to go, the port had to be put out of commission indefinitely.

It was a similar story at the airfield as the Armbursts flew high and slowly, picking their targets individually and dropping two bombs on the same target to make sure of utter destruction. The hangers and pilot quarters were selected by the bombers and also small bunkers and vacant plane parking areas, craters soon littered the concrete taxi ways and the buildings erupted with flames as the TNT inside the bombs tore the buildings down in style. The remaining F-16s began pounding the runways with their missiles and bombs in an attempt to stop any larger aircraft requiring runways from either entering or leaving the airport.

The small fleet of command battleships that had orders to shell the harbour were recalled, partly because of the dangerous shallow waters (although the cannons were in range) but mainly because the FAA and RAF had succeeded in the primary goal of the attack that there was no real need to clean up survivors. Besides, survivors were needed to tell others about the attack thus spreading fear into the hearts of others. That’s what was hoped for but Stevidian soldiers knew nothing of the resolve of Atheism troops or civilians, they may just take the loss and get on with it or it would severely affect morale in the country- who knew.

The third wave was cancelled, the enemy hadn’t sent any planes in to really challenge the first and second waves so backup hadn’t been required from the third wave of planes. The carriers refuelled and re-supplied their planes and sent up patrol groups again to scour the skies for troublesome planes, ASW helicopters had picked up faint trails of sonar targets not too far from the fleet which had disturbed commanders. Three older Type-45 Sheffield Class Destroyers and four River Class Corvettes were dispatched to suspected areas to begin hunting, not expecting to find much but one had to be careful in these difficult times. Atheism was a new nation to Stevid’s military, an enemy they had never fought before and so the experience was new to the sailors, soldiers and pilots. Little was really known about their military techniques and skills and although it was one-nil to Stevid after the airport and harbour attack, the enemy was still strong on its own, let alone with its allies. Victory against the Golden Throne was uncertain, although Preatonia and Questers had pledged their support in aid of the Havenic Pact they had still to create a major impact. Independent Hitmen were doing battle with enemy sea forces on the fridge of Otium Aqua with the Royal navy on standby to help if necessary, and now Stevid was fighting a previously neutral state on top of the other war it was busy fighting. With a light bombing run made on Stevid Capita by Kanami meant that the government and military were getting quite annoyed with current proceedings. Stevid was on top in most of the theatres of war, including this latest one, but the ground war looked as if it was going to make a turn for the worst in the new theatre. Stevid had to make this new enemy of hers bow before them and relinquish their obligations to the Golden Throne or face the occupation of Imperial forces from Stevid. Alas this seemed like fools hope to those in high places it looked like Atheism would fight to the bitter end with stubborn support from the Macabees.

In the grand scheme of things, this was only a minor victory for the Haven Pact and a minor defeat for the Imperials yet a noticeable that would not go unchallenged by the enemy. Reprisals were almost guaranteed to occur and so every precaution had to be made, even if the sonar readings were total wrong- things had to be checked out.

Athiesism

25-12-2006, 19:10

Kentangi Point, and almost all of the Fleet's logistical assets stationed there, were in total ruin. Hardest hit were the tanker and ammunition fleets; these giant resupply vessels lay overturned or contorted into undiscribable shapes as direct hits set off terrible chain reactions, caused by the enormous ammount of fuel and ammunition stored inside the ships. Most of the warships lost to the Stevidian attack on the 21st were sunk or disabled this way; although direct missile hits sent a ship to the bottom, the powerful shockwaves of ammunition and fuel ships exploding did devastating exterior damage. Of the 59 Athena carriers present at Kentangi Point, 34 were destroyed; another 18 were either mauled so as to render flight operations impossible or made to rest on the shallow harbor bottom, leaving only seven surviving. Merkar had one other carrier class- an old Kuznetsov class carrier that had been purchased from a scrapyard and rebuilt. It, along with three curiously named Remnant-class battleships, which had been purchased from Skycapt over two decades ago, were all sunk during the attack, although the main effect of this was to save Kentangi Point dock workers the money and time it would take to break up these relics.

The carriers were somewhat irrevelevant at this point, anyway. Most of the ships which were not in harbor had already put to sea and so had survived the attack without a scratch. Remnants of the surface fleet- 38 Athena carriers, 43 submarines and about 200 destroyers- had gathered south of the largest island, Liliputia, safely away from the Stevidian invasion fleet, a few dozen miles from the coast but in open water. The remainder of the submarines were cut off from satellite communication and being hounded by Stevidian airborne ASW. Most of the incompetent commanders had already died- those submariners still trapped to the north, or even those bold submarine captains who were busy hunting enemy shipping rather than linking up with the fleet, were the alert and ready ones who had survived. Meanwhile, many destroyers and patrol boats were trying to fight their way to the rendezvous, but they refused to concentrate in one place, staying in small groups and becoming dangerously vulnerable to Stevidian attack.

For the Merkaris, the worst front was in the air. The war plan was for the Kentangi Point ammunition carriers to sortie and reload the carrier aircraft after they left their land airfields. Obviously, this couldn't happen. Naval Aviation (which had consumed the independent Air Force a decade ago) was strong in numbers but weak in logistics. The Su-35K was an aged fighter to begin with; now, with aircraft ordinance in very short supply, the situation was not good. Merkar was one of the most technologically advanced nations in the world, far ahead of any nation in the region, but it had a hard time upgrading its Russian aircraft to modern standards. The AA-13, a Russian-designed Pheonix equivalent, performed well against the enemy- when it was available. The Stevidian Nightwalker fighters were littering Athiesism's jungles with Su-35 wrecks, while even their F-16s had a piece of the action. For the Merkaris, the war in the air was essentially defensive, trading aircraft and pilots for time as the fleet prepared for a counterstroke.

The thick hulls of the Shark-class submarines, combined with Stevid's preoccupation with attacking the surface ships, were the only things that saved the submarine fleet from simliar punishment during the December 21st attack. This was, perhaps, one of the few things that went right that day; with much of the submarine fleet either at sea, Stevid failed to destroy a key part of the Merkari navy. Submarines, some said, were the future of war at sea; it would be time to find out.

By the fourth day of the war, Stevid had almost every option open. The Macabbeans had been sluggish in their response to the war, leaving large swathes of coastal territory lightly defended at sea. Coastal guns and missiles watched over most of the good marine landing points, but these could easily be taken care of by airpower. The island of Marche Noir to the northwest was a juicy target; not only did it contain many strategically important cities and resources, but it was surrounded by only a dispersed flotilla of destroyers. The northeastern island of Bigtoa had a few more destroyers present, but its fighter defenses were much weaker and it lay closest to the Otium Aqua Sea. Liliputia, the large southern island, contained the most important locations- the capital, Athasism, and Kentangi Point. Reaching it from any direction other than from the south, though, would mean running a gauntlet of coastal fire in shallow waters. Also, the main Merkari fleet was located to the south. Although low on ammunition, this force was capable of providing notable resistance.

With Mekar on the defensive, the Stevidian Third Fleet now had the initiative. Would they wait? Or, if they did not, where would the next blow land?

Stevid

29-12-2006, 18:48

The fires from Kentagi Point burned brightly as the days and nights drew on presenting itself as a huge beacon for everyone to see; the smoke had risen high up into the sky where stronger sea winds pushed it gently inland clouding neighbouring villages, towns and cities. No doubt that the fire crews were doing what they could but from initial reports it seemed that a devastating and almost crippling blow had been dealt to the enemy with the Royal Navy reaping the benefits and the glory from it all back home in Stevid. The public response had been somewhat jubilant but not quite as fanatical as the time when Guffingford had been defeated. Central Bellmore Way, the route that led too the Royal Palace in Stevid Capita, was full to the brim with celebrating Stevidians but it didn’t have the same atmosphere as the Guffingford victory- fewer people and less chanting and was probably due to the swiftness of the government to declare war and attack this nation same people had never heard of before. Still, a victory was a victory that now left Stevid with a huge advantage that couldn’t and shouldn’t be squandered.

The attack on Kentagi Point Harbour had left the enemy navy reeling in horror but were beginning to regroup somewhere in the southern seas just off “Liliputia”, other enemy naval remnants where lightly dispersed destroyers scattered liberally in small groups that where going to try and make it back to the allied fleet. Other smaller fleets of shipping where stationed around the enemy’s major islands as light defence against invasion and naval attack. The Royal Navy had numerous options to take and would probably make two or three different choices but invasion, for the moment, was not on the agenda. Royal Navy policies on invasion planning were rather strict. A successful invasion meant the enemy’s air force had to be contained, a partially completed task with a lot of enemy carriers destroyed in the raid, and finally the elimination of the enemy’s navy to such a degree that it is no longer considered a threat. Atheism still possessed a large and formidable navy that would make the Royal Navy Third Fleet pay for every ship sunk- it was a beatable enemy but one that already had the respect of Stevidian naval commanders.

Raiding was a definite option, with so many enemy ships and submarines lurking around in loosely defended groups, a simple and lightening quick air attack from the carriers could sink any rouge destroyer groups. Submarines were a different story however, the Defiler Class C&C cruisers reported few submarine losses after the attack on Kentagi Point therefore proving that either they didn’t have many submarines (a ridiculous thought) or that they still had a huge submarine fleet prowling around out at sea. The Third Fleets ASW was keeping track of straggling enemy submarines and warding them off with the usual armaments but not directly engaging. While the submarines were a very large threat, the surface fleet had a larger priority over the submarines for invasion purposes. Surface ships could engage from long distance while submarines had to close well within range of any invasion fleet’s ASW assets. The fleet would remain large but smaller splinter fleets would break off from the main body and begin raiding and harassing the enemy’s smaller destroyer flotillas.

Air power was one area where the Royal Navy had the advantage in considering the circumstances, an extremely rare luxury considering the age of obsoleteness of some of the more aged aircraft in the fleet. The Nightwalkers and Scorpions were incredibly good in this time frame of technology but the navy was still using Harriers and F-35s for some of the less important fleet defence. The Royal navy was still proud to fly the infamous Harrier Jump Jet but its age couldn’t be ignored despite all the refits, updates and refurbishments the different makes had undergone. However air power, despite some of its age, could now be utilised to its full potential. Safehaven was just over the horizon and the RAF could be used if necessary but the FAA would be taking advantage of the circumstances. Already proposals for an attack on the North Eastern island of “Bigtoa” had been accepted and drafts were already being presented, it was close to home and the fleet but had a large contingent of enemy destroyers according to satellite feeds. The air force would have to be tested but a lightening invasion with at least 10% of the ground forces being brought with the fleet would be sufficient to take and hold the large island. Its proximity to Safehaven and Stevid would be exploited to the full and troops and armour could be swiftly moved in replace marines and tanks used in the initial invasion. Bigtoa was certainly first on the list and was in the minority of territories the navy would be annexing- it didn’t require the elimination of the enemy navy, only a small percentage to guarantee a successful landing. Plans were still in the development stage and no one was to make any assumptions yet. The North Western island of “ March Noir” was an incredibly tempting target but was too near to the Macabees and too far from Stevid to provide complete protection from a counter invasion from the Golden Throne.

It was settled by the top brass commanders of the fleet and then forwarded on to Lowlands Road, continued harassment of the enemy navy including raid on sea, air and land assets involving the Royal Air Force and the Fleet Air Arm, and the continued planning of an invasion of Bigtoa and the sparking of an island war. The fleet commanders would also begin preparations for small splinter fleets of small task forces carriers, frigates and destroyers to go submarine hunting while the huge bulk of the Third Fleet began its slow journey to intercept and destroy whatever was left of the enemy navy. Word was sent back to the Admiralty so the a reinforcement fleet could be drafted as soon as possible in case the Macabee got its arse into gear and began defending its new friend in this war.

SS-954 (Splinter Squadron- 954) Approx. 121nm NNW of Royal Navy Fleet

The force of sixteen planes was one of many small wings of aircraft sent up by the carriers in the Third Fleet to go and attack the small squadrons of destroyers that were crawling their way back to the allied fleet in the south- running the gauntlet that the Royal Navy had erected for them to dart through. Already Defiler C&C cruisers had picked up over thirty vessels ready to be targeted, one particular group of destroyers numbered only five and were some distance away from the third fleet. The air wing consisted of seven XF-23 Nightwalkers and the rest were XF-24 Scorpions- both armed with Gothic Type I anti-ship missiles that had proved particularly effective against Kanami shipping at Hanover and Atheism shipping at Kentagi Point Harbour, the destroyers would hopefully be no problem.

Similar actions were taking place elsewhere with allied planes attacking such lightly defended shipping to try and prevent them reinforcing the already formidable enemy fleet in the south. The Scorpions would have all the fun this day, flying at around ten thousand feet before launching their payload at the enemy destroyers- 36 Gothic missiles streaked out towards the destroyers, some would inevitably be shot down seeing as these ones were set to sea skimming instead of their anti-SDN mode, these were only destroyers after all. The destroyers wouldn’t instantly sink, they would remain on the surface for quite some time, in fact long enough for the Scorpions to dive down and low to strafe the water were the unfortunate surviving sailors would be spilling out of the coffin that was their once beautiful destroyer. The Scorpions, hoping CIWS cannons weren’t still functioning could play with the bodies of the sailors and even drop a few 2000lb bombs on the flaming hulk of the ships the warp the appearance even more than before. There was no remorse in this war, too many lives had already been lost for anyone to give two tosses about a further three thousand more dead men and women when the grand total would easily reach billions. Stevid had quite literally seen the great Safehaven city of San Menendez disappear before its eyes thanks to Space Union bombings. Quite possibly hundreds of thousands of civilians had been killed in the attack on top of Stevid’s own First Airborne Division, only seventy men, one tank, one helicopter and a single Land Rover survived the attack on the city which cast a huge shadow of Stevid’s battle record and XXX Corps’ inability to live up to its reputation as heroes. This war had cost Stevid too much already in terms of sailors, pilots and soldiers for the pilots flying the Scorpions to give a small shit about the enemy sailors flailing helplessly in the cerulean coloured sea that was beginning to turn black with oil in one place and crimson red in another. They would strafe until they were out of ammunition and had to refuel and re-supply and wouldn’t give the deaths a second fault. It wasn’t the sailors’ fault they were caught up in this war, they were doing their job but the sad thing was that they were probably only going to be missed by a few people in the grand scheme of things- a prospect no one wanted. All the men and women fighting in this war were nothing more than pawns willing playing a game- a game that no one was winning but the players were willing to play these expendable pawns to get want they wanted and if the Royal Navy had to kill every last pawn, rook, queen or bishop Atheism threw at them to win this God forsaken war, then it bloody well would.

Third Fleet Listing

Command and Control

2x Defiler Class Cruiser
1x Sanguinious Class (SDN+)
2x Malleus Class (SDN+)
2x Prince of Wales Class (SDN+)

Capital Ship/Command Battleships

24x Germanic Class (BBCN)
21x Wellington Class (BBCN)
23x Britannic Class (BBCN)

Fleet Aircraft Carrier Group

10x Conroy Class (CVN)
5x Enterprise Class (CVN)
12x Faye Class (CV)
10x Sunderland Class (CVN)

Amphibious Landing Platforms (Assault Carriers)

44x Lustria Class (LCP)
16x Westland Class ((LCP)
6x Ocean Class Helicopter Carriers (LCP)

Minor Fleet Battleships

10x Type-74 Domination Class (BBN)
18x Type-91 Long Sword Class (BBN)

Escort and Taskforce Cruisers

40x Type-18 May Leaf Class (Carrier Escort)
40x Type-69 Stevid AA Class (AA Cruiser)
30x Type-92 Crystalline Class (CAN)
41x Type-34 Nottingham Class (AS Cruiser)

Escort and Taskforce Frigates and Destroyers

10x Centaur-X Class (FFG)
40xType-104 Derbyshire Class (FFG)
32x Type-102 Camden Class (FFG)
32x Type-101 Gazelle Class (FFG)
42x Type-44 Northern Class (Multi-Purpose FF+)
25x Type-97 Torrington Class (CV Escort FF+)
75x Type-23 Duke Class (FF+)
27x Type-22 Broadsword Class (FF+)
25x Type-55 Discovery Class (Multi-Purpose Destroyer)
67x Type-45 Daring Class (AAW DD+)
20x Type-77 Kingsley Class (FF+)
33x Type-42 Sheffield & Manchester Class (AAW DD+)

Tactical Warfare

5x Tpye-66 Dweller Class (ASAT* DD+)
??x Astute Class SSBNs
??x Vanguard SSBNs
??x Avenger Class SSBNs
??x Ohio Class SSBNs
??x Sovereign Class SSNs
??x Seawolf Class SSNs
??x Trafalgar Class SSNs

Light Shipping/Escorts and Royal Fleet Auxiliary

150x Assorted Corvettes and Patrol Boats
90x Assorted RFA re-fuelling and re-supplying tankers
46x Assorted RFA converted Royal Marine carriers
28x Assorted RFA floating tanker platforms (helicopter and VTOL aircraft)
17x Neutral Stevidian Hospital Ships

Royal Marines and Transports

On average there are approximately 230 Royal marines on ship classes between Frigates, Destroyers and Light Cruisers. Cruisers, Heavy Cruisers, Taskforce Carriers and Battleships have, on average, 430 Royal Marines per ship. Fleet Carriers and Heavy Command Battleships have, on average, 600 Royal Marines while the Super Dreadnought can have any between 800 and 1100 at full capacity. Lustria LCPs can carry over 1000 plus heavy tanks and light vehicles while the Westland and Ocean Class LCPs can carry between 500 and 800 Royal Marines.

All carriers and LCPs have some form of helicopter transports for the Royal Marines. These include Chinooks, Westland Augusta Lynx’s, Westland Augusta Merlin’s, Black Hawk’s and, of course, the Boeing MV-22 Osprey’s for surgical deployments.
Most heavy carriers and all the LCPs have a detachment of special forces including Stevidian SAS and SBS. Other transportation methods include landing craft to transport heavy equipment and hovercrafts for swift deployment to form beachheads and RV’s for army equipment.

Radar and Anti-Stealth

All the main capital ships in the fleet, from Heavy Cruisers all the way up to the Super Dreadnoughts, are equipped both CELLDAR emitters and receivers. All classes below Heavy Cruiser (not including corvettes and patrol boats) are equipped with CELLDAR receivers. This allows for the capital ships to send out CELLDAR waves and for ALL Stevidian naval shipping to receiver the data from the sweeps. This allows for great radar cohesion and no redundant data from missile-lock ons (no multiple lock-ons unless the system is overrided by the operator.

The nature of CELLDAR is that it picks up moving objects and not solid objects. This means it can pick up most objects known to humanity, anything from a duck to a B2- Spirit stealth bomber. The categories can be selected to remove illegitimate objects. LIDAR/LADAR on board most of the ships is able to track aircraft by detecting their own aerial radar emissions. Sampson radar tied in with the PAAMs and CELLDAR detection suites enables multi-target lock-ons numbering anywhere between one and sixty aircraft. The CIWS/ILMS point defence cannons use the radar in the same manner to track and destroy their targets.

http://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/stevid.jpg
By Order of His Majesty’s Royal Navy and Admiralty

Spizania

29-12-2006, 20:05

Pheonix Mountain, Primary Strategic Missile Command Centre
The Air Vice Marshall incharge of the facility smoked his cigar and drank a coke and whiskey as he reviewed the latest satcon photos from the passes over Athieism, showing a massive Stevidian Armada, this was one of the enemies most powerful assets, and it was most likely considered to be out of range of Confederate interferance, which is almost true, but there was ONE anti shipping missile that could strike them, and it was one of the most potent weapons in the Confederate Arsenal. That missile was the Khan.
The Marhsall closed the folder containing the photos, finished his drink and walkd over to the glass door of his mostly glass walled office, walking down the stairs to the missile command floor, where he turned to the officer of the watch,
"Code Black, missile launches directed onto these coordinates" he handed the officer an A4 sheet of paper containing a simple line of a code, code that would activate the targetting package that had been laid down for the Stevidian fleet by the guys at Strategic Force Projection earlier that Morning. The Officer turned to his console, speedtyped the code into the computer console and hit the enter key.
"Launches authorised and in progress"
On the big screens that covered an entire wall of the big control room, pictures appeared, showing hundreds of Khan MIssiles lifting off from launching farms across southern Spizania, 1100 missiles were launched, targetted at the larger ships of the enemy attack force, they would only be able to kill a fractino of the incoming weapons. This was the first stage in the reversal that would swing the war at see back in favour of the Northern Alliance, and end the Haven Pacts chances of winnning a war at sea. Permenantly.

Athiesism

31-12-2006, 19:59

Kassem could feel haze circling inside his head. A terribly bright light was trying to tear his eyelids open, even though he insisted that they stay shut. Kassem's hands raised in front of his face reflexively, which was enough to block out the light, but only made it more difficult to stay sleeping.

"Lieutenant! Qusay! Wake up!"

The bright light faded away, and Kassem relaxed. A few seconds of peace allowed him to sink back into sleep. Suddenly, he felt solid slap, which was enough to open his eyes, just barely. Kassem was getting to his senses. A woman was standing above him holding a flashlight, some groundcrew who he knew only by face. The chest insignia identified her as a private.

"Lieutenant Qusay, you've been ordered to briefing."

What he had meant to be a short nap had nearly made him late for the sortie! Somehow, this private had the brashness to slap a superior in the face- but she must have known that Qusay, like most other officers, didn't mind. There were only a few Merkari officers who still insisted on military formality, and you had to know who was who. Kassem sprung out of bed, thanked the Private, and paused briefly to remember what he was supposed to do. Today would be his first combat sortie in the past week. After the base recieved ammunition four days ago, he had flown a few uneventful CAPs, surprisingly managing not to see combat- unlike his fellow pilots, many of whom didn't make it home. But this was the big day- word had leaked out that the Wing was going to strike "somewhere important".

After a quick stretch, Qusay headed out into the morning twilight. The flightline was full of activity, no doubt, but the thick woods surrounding the aircraft revetments made it impossible to see. Kassem walked outside the barracks tent, chose from a rack full of drab-painted bicycles, and peddaled off through a narrow jungle trail. As usual, the morning brought with it the neverending sound of insects and animals, which had been going on through the night, but picked up to a special intensity at this time of day. Qusay must have been very tired indeed to have slept through this. Perhaps it would finally break his sleeping-in habit.

The trail was dark, although the tree canopy let through light here and there. The stealthy blue of the twilight made it even harder to see along a path that was never bright in daytime, but the Lieutenant had exceptional night vision. He spotted small beetles, and a snake or two, on his way to the TOC. It was a short trip, only a few hundred meters, but the early-morning excersize was rather refreshing. A good way to wake up- why didn't they do jungle deployments in peacetime? A small clearing on the left revealed the TOC, the absence of tree canopy above it letting in light and giving the crude camo-net tent a strange, pale blue glow. Kassem pulled up to it and dropped his brakes, letting his bike stand there with the others. Apparently, someone or something had made off with the bike rack.

Kassem could see inside the superficial cammo neeting supported by the tent poles. A weak light was shining inside that made it barely possible to see what was going on. A cluster of pilots were seated in front of a widescreen display which contrasted sharply with the primitive environment. As he went inside, Qusay noticed Colonel Gartu, his dark, chiseled face dominating the room.

"Well, Lieutenant, we were just about to think you were aten by a snake. Take a seat." Gartu's sounded too stern for humor, but there were a few half-hearted laughs. On hot days, the body odor present in the hot, crowded tent could show everyone had been waiting here for some time, but even the cool morning air felt stale inside. The Colonel's now-cold coffee was seated on a palm-sized computer that powered the display- the computer's fan had busted some time ago in the heat, so something at least moderately cool had to be kept on top of it at all times. Gartu took a sip, then gently elbowed the monitor, which lighted up instantly to show a spreadsheet of statistics.

"The weather today is good. Visibility unlimited, light winds coming from the west, no clouds. Temperature is hovering around 27 to 30 and expected to increase throughout the day to 40. Pack water. One of our pilots almost suffered a heat stroke yesterday after coming home from CAP."

The colonel probably thought he was easing tension by dealing with the minor issues first. In reality, he was just making everyone more tired and exhausted waiting for the truth to come true- what was today's big mission? Why was the whole airbase gathered in this room? The daily weather and maintenance report took several minutes- it seemed that he was padding it to make it take longer. Kassem took out his notepad and wrote down the most important facts.

"Blue 43 and Blue 67 are down for gear problems..."

"Talk with crew chiefs, make sure your brake fluid has been checked before heading out, yesterday we had a..."

"Hot meals will be served at 1630 to-"

A thundering explosion sounded to the right, causing everyone's head to turn towards the sound as if they could do something about it. Just as the instantaneous stress wore off, a white-hot bullet shot in from the jungle, shaving past a seated pilot.

"ARRGH!"

Kassem and a few others stood up and snapped their heads back to the Colonel, who remained standing calmly in front of the room. "Captain Dominic... Captain, get your hand off your arm." Dominic was lying on the ground, bowled over in pain. Those sitting next to him stood up to make room.

"Captain Dominic, what is the Navy first-aid for third degree burns? Get your hand off your wound, Dom-"

"YEAARGH!" The pilot didn't seem to notice the outside world at all for a moment. After a second, he made an attempt to respond, taking his hand off the wound and delicately using his good arm to prop himself up straight. This let everyone catch glimpse of the burn- a black gash that went right to the bone. Kassem always assumed he would be frightened in this situation, but the brutality he had seen last week, combined with the general calmness of everyone in the room, made Qusay feel unaffected. This reminded him of his greatest pain- the morning of the Kentangi attack when he saw his entire wing be slaughtered by strafing Stevidians. He had no doubt that everyone else had lost friends- this was a patchwork group of whoever was lucky enough to survive Kentangi, on the assumption that the only people who could escape the Stevidian steamroller were aces. Kassem never asked about how many friends his comrades had lost, even though it made him cry himself to sleep at night. He felt none of this, of course, when in public, among everyone else hiding their emotions.

"Captain Louis, step outside and wash the wound with hot water." Louis, with his face tense, teeth clenched and eyes shut tightly, didn't reply with words, but simply nodded his head and walked out the entrance- there was a military water cooler a short distance down the path. Kassem realized that he was still standing and sat himself back down. The Captain seemed to be out of hearing distance and everyone returned their attention to the Colonel.

"Well- we know where the bike rack went!" The room exploded with laughter. All this laughter in any situation- it was a Merkari thing that Qusay never caught on to. Although the shrapnel was too hot to pick up and examine, Kassem could tell from the metal that it was, indeed, part of the TOC's missing bike rack. The blast had most likely come from one of the Stevidian SOD bomblets that had been dropped farther down the highway and set on a timer to explode while maintenance crews were working to remove it. Very well- if they wanted to bomb highways, they could do it, but all that the base had to do was relocate along a different stretch of road.

"As you just saw, Runway 1-7 is still down. Army engineering doesn't want to do anything about it so we're down to one runway. We'll use 0-1 for all sorties today. Radio frequencies for traffic control have changed..."

Colonel Gartu continued on for a minute or so, cleared his throat, and paused. "Comrades, I know that all of you have been waiting to hear what today's mission is. There have been some wild rumors going around the Wing, or so I've heard, so let me tell you the truth. Late yesterday, two fighter wings made an attack on the Stevidian fleet. They were torn to shreds." Gartu tapped the display with a fingernail, causing a map of the sea north of Athiesism to appear. A cluster of icons designated the Stevidian fleet. "We are going to do another attack today." A few pilots gave grunts and gasps of disbelief.

"This will be our first real chance to hit back. Aircraft and ammunition have been relocated all over the country for today's sortie- over a thousand of our fighters will be in the air today. Coastal Defence is also going to coordinate a missile spam with our air attack. This is a national effort." The Colonel brushed the display with two fingernails, causing several 3D models of Stevidian ships to appear.

"Our goal today is to kill two Stevidians with one stone. Firstly, we're going to test the strength of enemy air defences and the ability of enemy ships to take damage. Second, we're going to weaken their air-defence capability to pave the way for future attacks." Gartu "grabbed" one of the ship models, causing it to expand to fill the screen. "This is the Stevidian Navy's Centaur-X class frigate. Good capability for a ship it's size, purchased from Clan Smoke Jaguar and so guaranteed to be a threat. A small flotilla of them are sailing with the enemy navy; these are our wing's targets." Gartu grabbed the model again and pulled it around so that the port side faced the audience. He then reached over to a nearby table and grabbed a large stick to use as a pointer, getting some dirt on the pristine computer display in the process. "As you can see, there are strong CIWS defences around the forecastle and to the rear near the helo pad. Your Mits have been programmed to home toward the ammunition magazines in the front. One hit on the hundred-fifty-five milimeter gun or its ammo and the secondary explosions should knock out the ship." Gartu tapped the display with the back of his pinky, bringing up the wing's flight plan.

"We'll do a standard bob-up attack. Everyone here has done it over and over in the simulators and in the air, so expect a perfect performance. Mid-level approach until we reach Waypoint Six over Marche Noir; after that, stay low until Waypoint Ten. On order, wing will climb to 7,000 meters, release the Mits, then hit the deck and get the hell home. The code for bob-up is Sunrise- everyone write that down. Major Obasanjo will lead the wing today, it's his responisibilty to keep time-on-target and call Sunrise once he reaches Waypoint Ten."

"Although your flightpath has been routed around areas thick with Stevidian fighter sweeps, be ready for combat at any time. 53rd Squadron has been equipped air-to-air in case you run into trouble on route. Everyone else is loaded with six Mits, a central fuel tank, and two '77s. The real problem will be air cover over the Stevidian carrier group. We'll have about five wings giving cover to our strike. They'll be on patrol over Marche Noir and will have our last reserves of AA-13s loaded on to them, but don't stick around after letting off your shots. Base Charlie-T has been marked as Waypoint 19. This is your alternate base if you take damage and can't make it home- another stretch of highway like we have here." After going through a few more details, Gartu ran the back of his fist across the display, turning it off.

"Pilots, Merkaris, understand the importance of this mission. We're scraping the bottom of the barrel to marshall enough fuel and ammunition for this strike, so this is our one chance. Many of you would rather have taken some cushy airline pilot slot than be here today, but there's more than your life at stake. The Merkari way of life is depending on you to preserve it... do your job. Dismissed."

The pilots filed out of the narrow entrance to the tent. It took some time due to the crowd, but eventually everyone made it to the flightline by bicycle. Kassem's Su-35K was resting in a small revetment at the side of the road. Some maintenance tools lay on a tree stump nearby; cammo netting hung from the trees above the airplane; the morning twilight was clearing up, turning slowly into a dark blue with a hint of pink along the horizon, which was obscured by trees. Clashing greatly with its primitive surroundings, the forest-camoflauged Su-35 looked sleek and eager to spring into the air but at the same time huge, like some giant seagull. Hanging under the wings were the bulky Mits, their long wings folded back so far that they almost reached behind the airplane.

Once done performing preflight checks, Kassem could hear the rumble of engines spooling up. His engines joined in, too, as he taxied down the highway between the other fighters. One by one, they soared off, kicking up dust and debris. Qusay remembered to turn on his engine intake shield to avoid sucking in any junk. Finally, it was his turn. He tightened his flight gloves and looked ahead at the groundcrew standing a few hundred meters down the road. Their goggles and military uniform made them impossible to identify at that distance. The groundcrew flashed a very bright light that burned Kassem's eyes for a moment, indicating that the runway was clear- every once and a while an animal would wander on to it. Kassem flipped on the brakes and slowly advanced his throttle to full. Once this was done, he toggled off the brakes and let the Su-35 roll. The jungle to both sides became blurry until it was impossible to pick out individual trees. Watching his HUD, Qusay waited for takeoff speed. His heavily-loaded aircraft would require a long run to get airborne, and would no doubt handle like a brick once in the air. 300 kilometers per hour... 350... 400... 450... nose up, retract gear. The Su-35K slipped above the trees into the morning air.

//\\ //\\ //\\

50th Squadron was nearing the launch point, staying low but fast over the hills and keeping an eye on their radar warning recievers. The Stevidian battleship fleet had SAM coverage all over Athiesism, but not only did they have to fire at the extreme edge of their range, but Merkari planes could dive under the radar horizon at any time and break lock. Today, however, it was essential that most of the strike force remain hidden, so the idea was to stay low and fast and avoid the thickest enemy fighter concentrations.

The wing was flying as a single unit, keeping formation tight and being careful to watch their time-on-target. 53rd Squadron- the fighter escort today- was not with them, though, having been detached to distract a enemy fighter sweep that was bearing down on the wing. The sweep, at least thirty planes strong, could easily overwhelm the 53rd, so the 53rd played a delicate game of chase, attempting to stay alive while at the same time keeping the enemy's attention. Major Obasanjo ordered everyone to engage afterburner, making sure that the Mit-equipped fighters got away alive. The 53rd, having done it's job of drawing the enemy away, bailed out and let its planes fall into the ocean as Stevidian missiles pursued them.

The squadron leader was scanning the skies, his head consumed by his helmet and barely visible at this distance. Kassem realized he was slipping behind the leader and accelerated slightly before turning the autopilot back on. He wanted to relax for a moment and sort out his thoughts.

The hills around him shifted up and down as the Su-35 shaved past the treetops. The jungle stretched east until it abrupty ran into the towering buildings and arcologies of Akrana. Early morning sunlight curved around the tallest buildings, painting them pink around the edges and giving the whole city a beautfiul silhouette. Kassem felt like taking out his camera and making a quick recording of these normally ugly and utilitarian structures. They seemed to be looking back at him. The people inside probably were, seeing the flight of aircraft heading off to war, flying in front of Marche Noir's sleek mountains. It was the thing cheap tourist postcards were made of. He remembered himself as a young child in Pakistan, remembered the contrast of the American war planes flying over ancient mud huts in the countryside. The Sari Riyyh, a Krashnyy shrine, was not too far away. Perhaps that would have been an even more beautiful backdrop, a similarly ancient contrast.

This reminded Qusay that had not been to a mosque for so long. There were precious few mosques, even Christian churches, in the country. He attended Krashnyy services from time to time, which were somewhat similar to what he was used to, but he was never fully fulfilled by them. It was not some hostility of the atheists themselves that frustrated him. Growing up in this country, Kassem had run into a few bigots, but today there were very few. What frustrated him was that the people of Athiesism made no accomodation for those who worship. With work and business, it had been too difficult to commute to Kentangi's only Krashnyy site every day, back when Kassem has based there. Now, with the war and the stress and pain of all he had lost, he was being overwhelmed. He was falling behind on his prayers. I am a bad Muslim.

Kassem switched one of his displays to show navigation information. With military GPS down, a clumsy civillian system was being used as a substitute. Mecca is about 25 degrees north, 25 east... there it is. Qusay plotted the course to break formation for a moment and head toward Mecca for a morning prayer. As he glanced up from the navigation display, though, he saw a flight of Su-35s fly past, their Mits having already flown off the rails. It would be his turn to launch next- prayers would have to wait, again. The target was approaching fast.

Less than a minute later, the wing turned around for Waypoint Ten. The formation turn towards the bob-up point was ingrained into his head after flight after flight of practice. It was here that instinct began to take over and Qusay's shaking hands and worried mind began to stop functioning on their own. He deactivated autopilot in preparation for the climb. Everything had to be set. Altitude, speed, time on target... thirty seconds late, not too bad... the master arm switch had been flipped ten minutes ago, but Kassem still checked to make sure... radars on standby, Mits respond to diagonstic...

"Drop tanks." Qusay reached over and jettisoned his fuel tanks at his wing leader's command, feeling a tang of embarrasment for having to be reminded. What else had he forgot? He once again ran a diagnostic on the Mits, and this time his R-77s, too. Relax. You've trained for this. He could tell himself that he was ready, but he couldn't feel like it. He raised his head up from the panels and noticed that he was sliding off course. His hand nursed the joystick over just enough to get the airplane back on track. The timer on his HUD began to count down. One minute ahead of schedule, Major Obasanjo must be in a hurry. The numbers were counting down much faster than Kassem wanted them to.

"Sunrise!"

Qusay jammed the throttle forward with his left hand and pulled back hard with his right. The afterburners built up power until they roared, making the Su-35 soar up into the air. The squadron was heading away from the enemy fleet but gaining altitude, tearing away the protection of the ground and exposing the fighters to long-range SAMs.

"Missile launch. Missile launch." A unusually calm and attractive female voice alerted Qusay that someone was trying to kill him. He could do nothing about it for now. The wing was soaring higher and higher into the air, engines straining as the aircraft were put to their limits. The altitude tape was climbing, but, from Kassem's point of view, rising painfully slowly as the missile warning light glowed. The familiar ground fell away to leave him naked high in the air. Fingers of sweat raced down his body across his beating chest. His uncontrollably shaking fingers fumbled to turn on the radar. The climb to 7,000 meters was meant to take twenty seconds; Kassem knew that he had watched the altitude gauge race higher for more than twenty seconds.

Seven thousand meters. He pulled back on the stick again, ending up facing the target fleet but upside down. Sweat travelled in the opposite direction, into his eyes, causing him to squint. Rolling upright, he saw his radar display light up with contacts. The targeting network automatically assigned him one to fire at, and an instant after Kassem had rolled upright a SHOOT prompt appeared in his helmet display. He jammed down hard on the fire button as a sort of kinetic stress relief, letting fly all six Mits. Six screeches sounded in quick succesion as the airframe shook slighlty from dropping missiles. Finally. Sighing, he felt a wetness along his thigh and realized that he would have to change his shorts once he returned to base.

"Missile, Missile." The same calm voice reminded him that it wasn't over yet. Kassem rolled the airplane upside down again and pulled back the stick to take it into a dive. He didn't bother cutting the throttle for the dive- his survival insincts told him that now was the time to run. The missile was closing fast now, and there would be even more after him if he didn't make it to the deck.

Things began to speed up. Kassem cut the throttle, pulled up, and deployed dive brakes seconds before smacking into the ground. His threat display alerted him that the missile- no, two missiles!- were only fifty kilometers away. There would be no evading them. They would have to be dealt with. Kassem armed R-77s and banked around hard. A quick press of a button and he had entered dogfight mode, the hungry R-77s looking for a target on their own. It didn't take long for them to spot the two large SAMs. Qusay fired, targeted the second missile, fired again, and then pulled up and dumped decoys while returning to afterburner. It was hardly necessary- the '77s and the SAMs hit head-on.

With his air-to-air weapons gone, Qusay headed home low and fast. The plane handled much more smoothly now that fifteen thousand pounds worth of missiles and external fuel had been released. The threat display was showing several emitters, probably Nightwalkers, but he wasn't concerned. The Harriers and F-16s lacked either the speed or range to pursue him, and the fighter patrol covering the raid should be enough to delay the enemy for a while. Kassem glanced behind him at the coast, watching thousands of missiles slice through the air in every direction.

//\\ //\\ //\\

The Merkari raid on December 31st depended on clockwork timing. The "bob-up" attack plan was an important part of all Merkari contingency plans for the defense of the islands; it had been practiced hundreds of times by every pilot in the simulator and in the air (during massive military exercises). It called for aircraft to hug the deck for defense against long-range SDN SAMs, rise to 20,000 feet, fire, and then return to the deck to evade incoming missiles.

Naval Aviation, which controlled all Merkari air assets, had been whittled down to 3,000 salvageable planes by the end of December- 50% losses since the start of the war. Losses would have been much higher had Naval Aviation not relocated into jungle highway strips to avoid air attack. The previous arrogance of the Naval Staff had been finally replaced by an acceptance of Stevidian air supremacy over the islands. With no hope of breaking Stevid's tight hold on their airspace, they reasoned that the only thing they could do was make one major strike. On the morning of the 30th, the decision was made to launch the attack. A punitive strike of 100 aircraft was launched hours later. It assaulted the Stevidian fleet just before daybreak but was almost completely wiped out by enemy fighter patrols. Once again, the Naval Staff had underestimated its opponent, and realized that it would have to throw in all its chips if it wanted to do serious damage to the Third Fleet.

On the evening of the 30th, airstrike orders arrived at bases all over Merkar. Over 1,500 hundred aircraft would take part- one-third would fly as fighter escort, the rest as bombers. Although a rehearsal would have been ideal, there was no time. As it was, the last iotas of aviation fuel and ammunition were being mustered for the attack. The whole operation would be effectively over in 15 minutes. Even if the Stevidians were able to realize what was happening, their main fighter force would just be taking off from its carriers as missiles were racing toward their fleet. The Naval Staff was not particularly concerned about whether any of the 1,500 aircraft made it home; if the raid was succesful, they would have served their purpose. If not, Athiesism was as good as fallen.

In one coordinated motion, the Merkari animal sprung into the attack. Aircraft launch times were staggered so that every missile would be launched within a five minute window. Stevidian fighter sweeps noticed the increased activity, but some confusion and lack of cooperation between the RAF and Navy made the situation hazy. The fighter sweeps and patrols took their toll on the strike, taking down over three hundred aircraft before they reached the launch zone. However, most of these losses were escort fighters that had done their duty of distracting the enemy long enough for the bombers to get through. Just shy of 0756, the time-on-target for the first missile wave and fifteen minutes after the first strike aircraft had taken off, a gaggle of Mits was on its way towards a Third Fleet detachment. Five minutes later, 6,000 such missiles had been launched.

The goal of this strike was not to bash explosives harmlessly against the thick hull of a Superdreadnaught. Rather, all of the targets selected for attack were either destroyers, corvettes or frigates. Intelligence had made a study of Stevidian naval combatants before the war, locating weak points on each ship's design. The highly accurate Mits were programmed to strike weapon magazines and SSM launchers on lightly-armored ships, while hitting radars, bridge windows, or even deck-mounted SSMs on well-armored vessels.

The strike force recieved some electronic warfare support from a squadron of Sira heavy-lift helicopters, along with land-based jammers. The Siras hovered for the brief five minutes needed to cover the missile launchings and then returned to base as Stevidian aircraft approached. Merkari ECM was some the best, if not the best, in the region, and it was hoped that it could hinder Stevid's air defence. Also launched from land was a battery of 60 Moskit missiles; the shore batteries, which had taken losses from air strikes over the past days, were not able to fully put in place the "missile spam" strategy they attempted to execute.

Although the RAF was too distant to intervene effectively as the Merkari fighters fled home, their Nightwalker and F-35 aircraft based on carriers pursued the strike force. The fighters were split between intercepting Mits and chasing fleeing Sukhoi jets. The Su-35 was a large airplane with a great fuel capacity, allowing the Merkari pilots to travel most of the way on afterburner and complicating Stevid's pursuit of them. However, Merkari Naval Aviation was spent now, having exhausted its ammunition and fuel. Losses during the raid totalled 700 aircraft and many pilots. Those that made it back to base found little to do other than find shelter and wait as their aircraft sat under cammo netting, their weapon racks empty and gas tanks dry.

The Mit

The Mit, named after a local variety of poisonous snake, was the most advanced piece of indigenous weaponry Merkar had ever produced. Designed in the laboratories of spaceborne Merkar and license-produced by Kriegzimmer factories, the Mit had a per-unit cost of half a million dollars. It was the epitome of Merkari electronic advantage and martial doctrine- a very advanced missile with a relatively small warhead, designed to strike very specific points on massive juggernaut vessels. Targeting procedure was usually hands-off, with aircraft datalinks transmitting information to each other to prevent too many missiles from being fired at the same target. (In the example of Lieutenant Kassem's flight mentioned above, although his wing was assigned to fire at Centaur-X frigates, in reality Centaur-Xs were simply the nearest targets relative to his wing's launch point; their Mits may have actually homed in on another ship type.) When launched from high altitude, the weapon can fly several hundred miles- its large wings and ramjet allow for substantial range, but it will usually sea-skim like a normal SSM once close to the target (the December 31st attack was launched at relatively short range, allowing the Mits to sea-skim most of the way). The missile flies to a certain point and then engages its optical seeker, which locates the nearest ship most similar to its programmed target parameters based on visual characteristics- down to a ship's hull number if so ordered. A radar range-finder informs it of target range during the run in- once the Mit is close enough, it performs random evasive manuevers to throw off CIWS. CIWS, which needs to constantly re-calculate lead in order to perform effectively, could be thrown off entirely by even the Mit's slight zig-zags.

The Situation, New Year's Eve 2026

It was an anxious holiday in Merkar. The normally profitable holiday shopping season had turned into a shock, and the economy felt it. Commercial shipping routes had to be radically redrawn, although the many companies bold enough, or greedy enough, to sell necessity items to Merkaris at vastly inflated prices were still sailing in unfettered from the south. Stevid's failure to pursue their enemy's navy away from Liliputia had preserved sea routes to the capital city. As long as the seas around Liliputia remained secure, Merkar would not starve.

The situation was much more desperate on the islands of Bigtoa and Marche Noir, however. Stevidian aircraft and submarines controlled the seas between the islands, discouraging any merchant traffic. Army garrisons on both islands had only the barest means of supply, and the less well-off could already be seen scouring the streets for food. On December 30th, the Merkari government officially begged Stevid to allow food and medical supplies through.

Previously, the refugee situation had been under control. As hard as the government condemned Stevid for the barely provoked invasion, neither the military nor the population had any real reason to go to war and no fear of the enemy. Everyone stayed in their homes and simply tried to stay alive, leaving the streets clear. The massacre of Merkari sailors, however, changed everything. Over the course of several days, Stevidian fighters and bombers wiped out almost all of Athiesism's fleet that had not yet rendezvoused with the main force. Most of the destroyer flotillas being bombed were within sight of shore, allowing Athiesism civillians to record the senseless strafing of the Merkari sailors as their ship sank. This, combined with the sight of throngs of people marching through Stevid Capita hungering for Merkari blood, brought the nation to a painful conclusion. Up to this point, everyone thought that they were fighting a civilized enemy, that their homes and lives would be undamaged if Stevid was victorious and that life would continue as normal with or without victory. The deaths of these sailors had reprecussions far beyond what was expected- there were more than just a few widowed wives and husbands affected.

The Merkari government, a virtual democracy to boot, had a strong democratic tradition. It refused to exploit the propoganda value of this event. As a result, the initial response was panic. Refugee columns clogged the main transportation arteries in Marche Noir and Bigtoa as civillians fled south, their (perhaps faulty) logic telling them to flee as far away from the Stevidian fleet to the north as possible. This made resupply of army bases all the more difficult as it was impossible to go offroad and into the thick jungle.

It seemed that Stevid had overestimated its enemy by even sending half of a fleet to deal with Athiesism. 250 destroyers were lost to air attack over the next several days, meaning that the only surviving escort ships had already made it the fleet south of Liliputia. Athiesism's submarine force, hounded by airborne ASW and crippled by lack of satellite communication, was not being sunk by the surface ASW forces themselves, but they were located easily and then pounced upon by submarines- the best weapon to kill a submarine has always been another sub. The Third Fleet's defensive perimeter was completely secure- for now.

Weary pilots were returning home after their bold New Year's Eve strike. None of them began the war believing in luck, but now they hoped it was on their side. With luck, they would have dealt a serious blow to a crack enemy fleet. Otherwise, the Stevidian juggernaut would seem yet more invincible.

Stevid

20-01-2007, 18:02

20nm Northwest of Third Fleet, Corvette Group Pepper, HMS Guinness

The HMS Guinness was a relatively small class of corvette, Stevid’s own version of the River Class corvette just passes below the tonnage required for a ship to be designated as a destroyer. In fact if the Guinness had a couple more tonnes of missiles and supplies like food and toiletries, her tonnage would be high enough for her to be regarded as a severely under armed destroyer. As it was she was still a corvette and armed in anti-air duties at the farthest reaches of the fleet’s small AAW capabilities. She, like the four other corvettes in the group, had the CELLDAR receiver array burring away on the top of the forecastle continuing their never ending sweeps for possible targets within the given criteria and mass- anything bigger than a goose and anything smaller than a super dreadnought was being tracked in the skies, scarily enough was the amount of massive sea gulls that were the size of a goose that kept the radar operators full attuned to any targets that the capital ships in the main fleet had picked up.

Corvette Group Pepper had consisted of twenty corvettes but now had been reduced to five since the Admiralty gave the bold move to attack Bigtoa- more AAW shipping was being moved around to complement the defences required to protect the assault ships, carriers and battleships needed for a small scale attack. The majority of AAW corvettes were still positioned towards the Northern, Eastern and Southern flanks of the Third Fleet. Retaliation from the enemy had to be expected, they weren’t in this war to just sit and watch their military disappear without a fight- in fact many probably thought that they would stand a good chance of winning the sea battle if it wasn’t for the attack on Kentagi Point Harbour and the surrounding airbases to the harbour. Still they had managed to get a fair few ships out and much to the Admiralty’s outrage, a lot of submarines that were now being harassed by ASW helicopters and aircraft on CAPs around the fleet. Kills were low because the enemy were not stupid to launch a massive attack on the fleet just yet, several kills had been confirmed and a quite a lot of contacts being damaged but not beyond fighting ability. So long as the fleet was safe, there was no need to worry about the enemy submarine force until at least two islands had been taken. After that, the fleet would have to disperse in to smaller splinter fleets as to mop up the remaining enemies thus allowing the submarines a far better window of opportunity to strike hard and fast against the Royal Navy. This situation is far into the future yet and would only worry commanders when the really difficult stuff, the current stage of the campaign, was well and truly over.

The war in Safehaven had drawn to a close in yet another stalemate leaving the forces their irritated by the waiting and now had become the forgotten part of the war. The embarrassment of San Menendez and the multiple successes in and around Otium Aqua were starting to be forgotten by the masses. So when they heard of a new front being opened totally in Stevid’s favour public opinion of the forces (although not necessarily the government) went through the roof. Now that just over thirty of the new Hanover Class EW cruisers had been completed and were en route to provide even greater protection to the fleet, things were looking up for the Third Fleet and the war on the Southern Front against a fellow island nation.

Morale was high, undisputedly high, and higher than it had been after the victory over the Golden Throne’s armada in the Otium Aqua. Higher than when the 1st Airborne Division arrived in San Menendez- this was high morale, so high that even God himself could touch it. The relaxed atmosphere around the Stevidian armed forces didn’t hamper the rituals or discipline of the sailors but it made life at sea while at war just a little bit more bearable- that’s when the contacts came in.

“Green 3-4-7! Missiles inbound! Missiles inbound! Green 3-4-7!” Yelled an Able Seaman after his radar screen made a solid bleeping noise followed by a red light. IT was confirmed that a huge stream of missiles had appeared a long way off radar. CELLDAR had immense range but these missiles had been fired off screen so it was probably a quick hit and run attack by an enemy formation. But so many missiles! It would have to be a large proportion of their air force coming out here and attacking the fleet in such a desperate gambit.

“Sound the general alarm.” the captain said rather calmly, the sweat on his brow giving away is nerves that were usually of steel- nerves of steel, a trait admired by the top brass officers in the navy. To get a promotion to Commander required such nerves and few had such raw discipline to become into the finest commanders in the Royal Navy. The Captain grabbed the intercom. Microphone and addressed the ship. “We have confirmed inbound enemy missiles en mass heading towards the fleet off our port bow. We do not believe we are the intended target so I want to take advantage of the situation. All CIWS and ILMS cannons are to fully operational and a message must be sent to the fleet warning them of the predicament…out!”

Corvette Group Pepper and Corvette Group Mustard just less than three miles away began to fan out and get some space as the first trickle of missiles passed overhead. The lone missiles like these were left and would be easy enough for the wall of frigates and destroyers to take on. When the bulk arrive you could see the thin wave of black dots flying head on towards the fleet, the ILMS cannons now opened up. Their range and tracking systems were superior to those of the goalkeeper and phalanx CIWS. Infrared tagging individualised targets for certain cannons and immediately began to pepper (no pun intended with the fleet name!) the skies around the missiles. Ordinary CIWS and manned 40mms and 55mms opened fire now and any missile they could see or lock on to, spilling yet more out of the sky. Hundreds were disappearing over the course of the wave but it was only a small flotilla of ships and could do nothing but shoot down what they could before the cannons were overwhelmed as the crew looked helplessly on at the missiles flying unabated to the fleet.

Third Fleet

The minor air skirmishes they had the carriers respond to were thought to be almost totally unrelated. Now the reports of missiles coming in en mass were the last thing the Admirals wanted. Already the main capital ships of the fleet had their klaxons sounding the warning to the defensive wall of shipping protecting the fleet’s Eastern flank. Carriers were scrambling what aircraft they could but many of the Sea Tornadoes and EF-2000’s and even some Nightwalkers were busy taking on the decoy planes further south leaving the fleet venerable to massive missile attack. Easiest enough were the Sea Harriers and some of the VTOL F-35s that were already ready to go. About forty could be scrambled while the others were either fighting or on CAP elsewhere. Those on CAP were summoned to flank around the attacking planes and take out what they could. The Sea Harriers would have problems in pursuit but the F-35s would be able to put up a decent dogfight if they managed to track the enemy planes right down.

The forty planes split up and their formations became fragmented to widen the area of attack for them to utilise. The missiles really started coming, what started as a trickle that was promised by Pepper was easily taken care of with no losses at all. Now the big wave was here, the burst of velocity from the Ramjet rockets on the missiles propelled them forward at increased the speed. At a distance the ILMS cannons and AMMs prevailed but could only shoot down so many at a time, the ILMS firing a quick and deadly accurate burst of three shells turned on new targets every couple of seconds, slowly chipping away at the enemy missiles had had lost a lot of missiles of the past half an hour. Then they started to hit, HMS Spaniel was a Type 23 Duke Class frigate. Like the HMS Nala in Hanover she was top of the line- an old design but very formidable with the harpoon missile launchers removed and an extended VLS complement to take the Gothic Type IIs and AA weaponry on top of the usual weaponry a Duke Class is fitted with. Her new and gleaming CIWS and ILMS cannons were easily overwhelm and six missiles struck her rather indiscriminately causing wide spread destruction. Then more precise missiles finished the job- one hit the 4.5” MkII cannon but fail to detonate although it did knock it clean off the deck, another missile hit the VLS deck and detonated taking the entire Gothic missile room with it. These missiles were modelled after the Sledgehammer Mk I, anti-capital ship and, if used in decent numbers, anti-SDN missile that used satellite imagery, GPS tracking, CELLDAR/Sampson aid and IR identifiers to smash through the deck armour of the ships key areas like the bridge, keel and poop deck and especially the cannons and missile VLS cells. These powerful and extremely potent missiles exploded taking almost the whole ship with it. Similar cases erupted all around the fleet’s defensive line and even some penetrated trough to AAW cruisers.

At first glance it seemed that the CIWS fire was holding them off but now commanders began to realise that that enemy weren’t as stupid as some of the ones that Stevid had fought in the past. Destroying capital ships like the Super Dreadnoughts bought you a decent kill and lowers the morale of the enemy but not much else- in the grand scheme of things a sunken SDN is the loss of a valuable asset but not the end of the world. Atheism tacticians were going for the weaker but far more useful light shipping like the frigates. Frigates, destroyers and corvettes in these numbers proved to be almost immune to enemy air assault and missile attack but when they were the ones being targeted then it became somewhat difficult. More missiles were far easier to shoot down but losses on the lighter shipping were mounting. Twenty ships were sunk with a further thirty damaged to such a degree that unless they could fire their CIWS then they would have to leave for the RFA fleet and/or for Safehaven.

The attack ended with losses higher than expected, twenty-eight AAW cruisers had been struck with eighteen of them either sunk or unable to fight. The Third Fleet suffered- badly- to this attack and while was still the strongest fleet out there in the sea, she had certainly felt the damage caused on her AAW line. Corvettes were being recalled from the Western approaches to help plug the gaps while aircraft now had to be put on near constant CAPs to try and prevent something like this from happening again.

The enemy wanted revenge and that’s what they got. The Eastern approaches to the fleet now had visible gaps in the wall that were now being patched up. Reinforcements were only three days away including the new Hanover Class EW shipping that would missile attacks on the fleet all the more futile. Yet Atheism had pulled off what some would not have dared done and succeeded in victory. Time would tell who win the war.

HMS Cherokee- Defiler Class Command Cruiser, Safehaven

Although the HMS Cherokee was sitting in a small and lonely port in southern Safehaven trying not to draw too much attention to itself, she was technically part of the Third Fleet as she was under the listing. The other Defiler Class was in the vanguard of the Royal Navy Third Fleet but it seemed too inefficient and a waste of good military resources to have too command and control cruisers in one place in one fleet. The Cherokee had entered active service just under a year ago and the crew had adapted to the quiet life of the navy rather easily, that wasn’t to say that their jobs were easy at all- the Defiler Class was one of the most important and relied upon ships in the whole navy and many foreign countries had its potential as one of the most advance cruiser types in the world. It was the navy’s answer to the equally incredible piece of tracking technology in the army, notable the Damocles C&C APC which had proven extremely useful during the Kurona Storm Crisis almost three years ago and more recently when providing live up-to-date early warning feeds to firebases in Stevid. These were the same tanks that told ground forces of incoming Mekugi long range missiles that devastated one firebase and damaged another before the razing of San Menendez City.

The Cherokee had also assisted the Dweller Class ASAT destroyers in target finding and filtering so that allied satellites from Independent Hitmen, Safehaven and other allies wouldn’t accidentally targeted as well as the military’s own space assets. The Defiler Class truly was the apex of naval tracking and target finding technology all squeezed into one hull, a feet never thought possible by some military tacticians a few years ago. The other Defiler Class, the HMS Eclipse, was present in the fleet that attacked Kentagi Point Harbour and was used to direct fleet actions and act as one of the many communication hubs and call transfer points for the navy in this region of sea. This also included ship targeting allocation and tactical analysis of particular enemy capital ships using IR and RT satellite imagery and spy surveillance photos as well as approximate dimensions and combat capabilities of enemy shipping so that the biggest threats to the fleet could be immediately targeted and neutralised before too much serious damage could be dealt. The Cherokee however had a much more subdued role in the attack plan of the Admiralty’s. She was sitting at anchor in a friendly port using her own sensors to watch over the battle and help coordinate her sister ship while relaying less important messages to other shipping in the region sea rather than over load the Eclipse with unimportant communications. She was also watching for threats outside the immediate combat zone with the usual links to homeland missile control and tracking as well as similar allied and home sources present in Safehaven. This would include attacks from the land, sea for air in any shape or form while relying satellites to aid in the tracking of alien objects in the air or space that were not allied or Stevidian… a more subdued role but still very busy.

It wasn’t long before a priority red call came in from a missile tracking station in northern Safehaven, a surprise for the lieutenant whom never had realised there was even a tracking station there in the first place. He flicked the switch and opened one more communication channel of thousands this communications hub of a ship was opening and closing all the time.

“C&C HMS Eclipse of the Third Fleet Lieutenant J. H. Sinatra hear, what can we do for you…err… His Royal Highnesses Tracking Station 009 Milan?”

His blue plasma screen was showing him the transponder details of the sender of the message directly and even a small blue map of the local region displayed a flashing red dot on the whereabouts of the tracking station, only seventy miles from the frontline it had probably only just been established as a fully operational tracking station maybe only two weeks ago, no wonder Sinatra had never heard of this 009 Milan station before.

“Hello Eclipse, something disturbing just appeared on our screens coming from enemy Spiz. Not sure yet but the sheer volume of contacts suggests a very large missile launch- probably ICBMs.”

“Aye, target location been identified?”

“Negative on target sir, they are still making their way up in the upper atmosphere at the moment but they are headed your way. Logical target being Safehaven’s capital city at the moment, however, I wish to stress that this is unconfirmed and we’d rather not be responsible for too much undue panic.”

“Roger that 009 Milan, have you informed homeland and Safehaven military commanders and leaders?”

“Affirmative, they were first on the list however when we saw the missiles were still gaining altitude and heading in your general direction we looked up what we had in that area. The Third Fleet was in combat readiness in the area and so they might be the target of a missile strike- it’s not unknown to use such desperate measures to win a war.”

“Confirmed Milan. This is what we’re going to do on our end. We’ll get in immediate touch with the Dweller Class destroyers in the Third Fleet and begin immediate ASAT tracking and filter out objects that do not coincide with the criteria of an en mass ICBM attack. We’ll get in touch with homeland missile control and tracking stations and they’ll begin immediate launch of counter batteries, even though we don’t know the target I don’t like the sound of over thousand missiles landing on their targets, we also talk to SWC (Star Wars Command) and get them to shoot down or disable what they can before the warhead re-enter Earth’s inner atmosphere. Finally we will be tracking of as many missiles and get a fix of speed, altitude and trajectory and pass on the information to the fleet. As far as I’m aware the warheads in the ICBMs will be freefall with maybe some guidance to their final targets so if the fleet is the target then we might be able to get some movement and evasive manoeuvres going before the strike.”

“That is assuming the Third Fleet is the target which is unverified.”

“Not for much longer.” Sinatra replied over his headset after handing a scrawled message to his supervising officer who turn quiet pale when he saw how many missiles had been launched.

“Thank you kindly Eclipse for your attention, good luck. 009 Milan out.”

Suddenly a loud klaxon sounded over and over again as the officer who had taken the paper informed command of the situation who then immediately went to Action Stations from Condition Yellow. Once the klaxon had finished sounding the interior of the ship was bathed in blood red lighting and the captain’s voice was heard over the ships internal broadcaster.

“We are now at Action Stations. Various sources in the air, and tracking assets in space and on the ground both at home and Safehaven have confirmed a large scale intercontinental ballistic missile launch by enemy imperial forces bound either for Safehaven or the Third Fleet as these are the only to target options that feasible enough to attack at such short notice. We have a feeling it may be the Third Fleet because of its incredible strength and advantage in the local sea region at the moment. We are currently tracking over one thousand missile that are now just about reaching the upper atmosphere and are probably making the first adjustments to their courses before they begin the fall to their targets. These things sea skim the rest of the way in at a terminal speed or around mach 11 which gives us a chance to shoot down a lot more than if they simply fell from the sky. The missiles have finished about a quarter of their journey which means that no matter what we do, a fairly large proportion of these missiles will get through and detonate over their targets. If we had known about the launch sooner than loss would be significantly lower- this is not the case so I wish you all to work well beyond your boundaries to inform the vanguard of the Third Fleet of the situation and that they are the target attack. Even if they aren’t lets not take the risk. In twenty minutes we should have all the available data we need to know where each and every one of these missiles will land. Work with each other, work with our tracking assets all over the region- in particularly or Dweller Class destroyers and ABM (anti-ballistic missile) silos in Stevid seeing as they are the only things we have at the moment to shoot down the enemy threat. Get moving people!”

The original jobs the men and women were assigned to be thrown out the window, ordering little shipping vessels away from naval shipping and simply communicating simple and rather irrelevant navigational queries were all shoved to the bottom of the To Do list. Everyone that could grab a computer terminal began tracking the missiles and communicating navigational orders to the Third Fleet and sending targeting information to Stevid ABM sites and missile location data to the Dweller Class destroyers. The Dwellers were already ready to fire, all they needed was the position of the missiles that were inbound, and they were taking care of some while their other assets were providing them with other contacts for them to shoot down. Just like the captain ordered, in twenty minutes nearly one thousand and fifteen missiles had been successfully located and their trajectories, speed and altitudes had been identified. Much to the horror but slight satisfaction of the crew members aboard, the computers told them that the target was indeed the Third Fleet. Their recent successes had provoked a retaliatory strike from the enemy. The only satisfaction was that they assumed the Third Fleet was the target because a definite target hadn’t been identified quickly enough. Now that it was confirmed that the Third Fleet would be subject to an en mass ICBM strike everything was being done to prevent wide spread annihilation of the fleet. The quick response ruled that out but this time the fleet would lose more than a few escorts or carriers. Command battleships and the older and weaker Catholic Class Super Dreadnoughts were in direct threat from the missiles. SDNs limping to a friendly port after sustaining heavy damage were not good for morale at all.

SWC had already got the majority of their targets in and were finishing launch preparations as quickly and as safely as they could. They would be using silo based missiles as well so they would be hitting the last three hundred or four hundred missiles. The Dweller Class and even the Malleus Class SDNs were preparing for their own defensive strike that would hopefully wipe out a fair few of the first missiles. SWC had also got AB satellites in the local region of space into scattered positions and were already attacking the missiles with electromagnetic pulses and electronic warfare measures to confuse the missiles. Some of the less advanced satellites fired AMMs at the ICBMs and the satellites less advanced than that were throwing ball bearings in sheets towards some of the more tightly packed missiles. In space where wind resistance means noting meant that the ball bearings could quite easily tear a missile to pieces. The problem was the severely inaccurate attacks those particular satellites were making, the only ones that could truly be relied upon were the first two types.

The Dwellers wasted no time in launching their four stage Spike Rockets into orbit at their targets, all the ASAT destroyers exhausted their complement of ASAT rockets pretty quickly but could replenish from the Royal Fleet Auxiliary afterwards…if they survived. The Stevidian silos back home had opened and the first hundreds of AB missiles streaked into the air, more would follow after the initial first wave and two more waves of AB missiles. The success of the Dweller Class’ missiles was now significantly reduced. Shooting down slow moving satellites was easy pickings and the missiles had between 80% and 100% success rate of hitting and destroying the targets. But this missiles were not only inbound to the Dwellers’ own missiles but the speed, trajectory and altitude was constantly fluctuating and a definite hit could not be assured and the success rate plummeted from the usual 100% to a terrible 40%-67%. From these figures, the crews on board the Dweller destroyers and the two Defiler class command cruisers estimated that a total between three hundred and five hundred missiles would probably penetrate the fleet’s missile defences. After the missiles had been destroyed the remaining ones would fall unhindered to their targets. The Third Fleet would have to perform the best evasive manoeuvres they had ever undertaken to avoid the most serious damage but losses were estimated to be high with super dreadnoughts taking minor losses but significant damage, carriers taking damage between minor and severe, capital battles taking medium damage and cruisers and light escorts taking anything between no damage and extreme.

The Navy and missile control had done everything they could to the best of their ability. Even if losses were going to be intolerably high, they would safe in the knowledge that they had save thousands more lives than there would be lost. The first detonations from the Spike missiles and AB satellites were confirmed with highly promising results as a wave of enemy missiles disappeared. More hope appeared on the horizon as Stevid herself launched thousands of her own anti-ballistic missile missiles against the enemy’s but would only counter the hundreds that would be striking last. The enemy were guaranteed a fireworks display from the hundreds that would be landing on the Third Fleet.

They came in a long flowing stream. Slow at first before the final boosters kicked into gear and launched them to a terminal velocity of mach 11. The phenomenal speed was barely controllable and the missiles were relying solely on GPS guidance and their own IR scanners. They fell from the sky and began their speedy advance on the Third Fleet. The missiles met the corvettes first who had been alerted almost an hour before the missiles arrive, the Defiler Classes directing almost all shipping to where the missiles would be. The corvettes opened up with CIWS and AMM fire, it was the least they could do because their own EW suites were inferior in comparison to those in the Third Fleet and would have had little or no effect on the enemy’s missiles. The ILMS struggled to make lock ons and manned machine guns were firing madly into the air. A dozen or so missiles exploded in spectacular fashion, their speed working against them as the dead missiles’ speed collapsed and missiles behind the detonation flew straight into the explosion and debris. The lower missiles smashed into three corvettes with so much force that it quite literally lifted the ships out of the water before they were ripped to pieces by the resulting detonation.

The corvette groups took down a few, maybe twenty or thirty, but the missiles pressed on down their own little corridor. The Third Fleet admirals had reinforced the frigate/destroyer line that faced the incoming missiles. Stopping them all was an impossibility but safeguarding most of the major shipping was still possible but from the reports of corvettes being vaporised it was safe to assume that super dreadnoughts were surely the main target. Aircraft able to launch had been and ordered to fly CAPs until the missile strike was over, there was little they could do against Mach 11 missiles. They struck the defensive AA wall, and hard, the AA flack and missiles pouring out of the fleet was both deadly and in discriminatory as the missile locks were for split seconds only. While the enemy missiles had no manoeuvrability at all at such speed, they were still real bastards for the ILMS cannons to track and shoot down effectively. Hundreds of missiles were throwing themselves at the AA flak, plenty getting shot down and further more were getting through. The really low level ones did what their sister missiles did to the corvettes. Lightly armoured escort frigates and even light cruisers could not withstand such raw power as seventeen ships were totally obliterated in a wither hail of missile fire that then poured through the tiny gap in the AA defence and spilled into the fleet that had rushed into a tight formation. The debris from destroyed missiles continued their momentum and smashed against the hulls and infrastructure of the frigate and destroyer wall causing light damaged to armour and interiors, huge shards of metal were jutting out he sides of shipping producing battle scars that wouldn’t soon heal.

The missiles that survived had their numbers dwindling but continued to cause havoc taking further shipping as their inability to turn because of their huge speed meant they couldn’t avoid “obstacles”. As quickly as they had breached the AA wall they hit their targets- the two Malleus Class SDNs and three Wellington Class command battleships taking the full brunt of the missile attacks. One Malleus Class disappeared in a white flash of light, all that remained was a devastated smouldering husk of vessel, scorched and twisted metal groaned in pain as the ship struggled to keep herself afloat. The prow was there although barely recognisable, her strong deck armour maintaining her dignity as the forward cannons were wiped out and the munitions inside detonated. She was lopsided but not quite listing, the enemy’s missile weren’t striking the water line of ships although the explosions ripped holes so large that she was indeed taking on some water. Her stern was relatively unscathed but her central infrastructure and her main forecastle that houses the powerful sensor arrays of the ship, were disfigured and torn by the explosions. She was no longer a super dreadnought but a grave for the souls on board. It was safe to say that both the Malleus Class SDNs had a casualty percentage estimates of around 70-90% and injuries around 99%. The Wellingtons took losses as well, Stevid prided herself and many nations in the world- especially those in the maritime industry- and her massive and durable battleships. Of the twenty-one Wellington Class Command Battleships, fourteen remained. Of the seven that were hit only three were still on the surface, the four that were gone had either sunk so quickly or the amount of missiles that struck them vaporised them.

Losses else were light, the two Prince of Wales Class SDNs survived without a hit and the brand new and top of the line Stevidian SDN- the HMS Sanguinious- took two hits in non-vital areas but the damage had scrambled most of the delicate tracking and radar suites and had severely damaged the AA gun decks were the missiles had actually hit. Morale plummeted to levels not seen in the Royal Navy for quite sometime. A string of defeats after the huge victory at Kentagi Point Harbour and the successes at preventing anymore enemy ships reaching their fleet had knocked down a previously massive morale to levels that were as low as those in Safehaven after San Menendez. The war would continue and with the arrival of the new Hanover Class cruisers due within the next few days, the fleet could recover from this massive blow to their numbers, their reputation and their morale.

HailandKill

05-04-2007, 22:40

Outside Felegin, Inside The Wiegar Area

Jimmy Wilson was sitting on the top of his tank as he watched the hazy orange sun break the horizon. Wilson checked his watch and saw the time left until the offensive started drop like the sands in an hourglass. He looked to his left, then his right, and on both sides he saw neat rows of infantry fighting vehicles waiting to start the offensive; it was like a race was about to begin with all the infantry fighting vehicles revving their engines as if to signal that they wanted to start already. However, the infantry fighting vehicles would have to wait for his signal, and Wilson couldn’t help but feel like he was like a race referee, with his tank being the starting gun. As impatience began to take its toll on the drivers, gunners, and most important of all, soldiers, everyone wondered what was holding the men from commencing their attack. What the men wondered was something no one, outside of the higher ranked officers of course, knew about. As radio chatter picked up with general questions of wondering and asking what the hold up was, Wilson thought to himself “The men will know soon why we wait..

Most of the men heard it before they saw it. The roaring sound of jet engines was increasing by the minute, and as soon as the planes were only a mile out their exhaust noise felt like it was on full volume. The men who were outside in the open and not waiting in an infantry fighting vehicle saw the GLI-76 Falcons swoop over the city and drop their lethal cargo. Explosions were heard all throughout the city and the explosions were loud enough to register in the ears of the men waiting to start their attack. Now they knew why they had waited. They would have to wait a few more minutes though, as artillery fire was heard raining in on the city and any important strategic targets it had. Another burst of explosions was heard in the city and heard in the ears of the Killian soldiers. The artillery fire then stopped as suddenly as it started; the barrage lasted a good four minutes.

When the smoke settled, which took roughly two minutes, Wilson climbed into his tank. He had a high explosive round waiting in the breech of his new cougar tank, and the round was ready to be fired, ready to hit its target at a high velocity, ready to restart the chaos of war. Wilson, much like the other tank commanders waiting to fire, had set his tank sights on a building that was on the fringes of town. Not every building had a Killian tank aiming at it, only the ones that were best suited to harbor anti-armor weapons or machine gun nests. Wilson’s cougar finalized the firing angle, and a small timer started in his head. It counted down, starting from ten and ending at zero. When his mental timer hit zero he pressed the fire button. The tank lurched backwards, and not hearing the sounds of combat for a few weeks, Wilson jumped.

Wilson watched the shell that he had fire explode into the house. The house now had a gaping hole in it. That one house was joined by many others as the other tanks opened fire. Like a domino effect, each tank fired in the line following the one that fired previous to it. The Killian armor did not stop after the tanks had each fired down the line though; a continual barrage of one hundred and twenty millimeter high explosive rounds was being fired. The battlefield was now alive with the sound of tanks firing their rounds at the currently unseen enemy. Adding to the noise of the tanks was the infantry fighting vehicles and their engines roaring as they flew towards the city. The infantry fighting vehicles began to take a “V” shape as they closed the distance into the city.

Almost a mere three minutes after Wilson’s lead tank fired “the starting gun”, the first infantry fighting vehicles were making it into the city. The soldiers inside the infantry fighting vehicles grew anxious as the metallic “twangs” were heard on the sides of the vehicles. These “twangs” surely indicated that the Wiegari rebels had begun to open fire onto the vehicles. The soldiers in the lead infantry fighting vehicles did not hear much after a few minutes of the rebels return fire because the chain guns atop of the vehicles let loose with their deadly twenty millimeter rounds. The purr of the chain guns was the indication of the Killian attempts to suppress the hiding spots harboring rebels that could be lethal to the men about to disembark from their vehicles.

The first infantry fighting vehicles had finally cut deep enough into the town and came to a stop. The vehicles themselves came to a stop, but rounds being poured on the enemy did not. The rear doors on the infantry fighting vehicles finally dropped, and men began to rush out into the streets of Felegin. Some of the men were immediately hit as they left the safety of their infantry fighting vehicles. Depending on the lethality of the wound, men were either dying right outside the infantry fighting vehicles or pulling themselves to safety. The men, who escaped unscathed unlike their wounded comrades, began to unleash small arms fire in what ever direction enemy fire was coming from.

As more and more infantry fighting vehicles began to unload their men the sound of small arms fire intensified. The typical “crack” sound emitted by automatic small arms fire was only getting louder and louder as Killian soldiers were returning as best as they could. As fire was being exchanged between each combating side, Killian men were taking cover behind whatever they could find. Porches, fences, walls, and whatever else sturdy enough, was being used as a point to return fire from.

As the men regrouped behind anything blocking rebel fire, the Killians began to advance past the infantry fighting vehicles giving them support. The Samson Battle suits were a little cumbersome to move in, but the as the soldiers began to get used to them their pace quickened. As the Killians were advancing, or attempting to advance, a few were dropping from enemy fire but a lot of men were protected, for the time being, by their battle suits. Killian soldiers were hopping from cover to cover as they moved. From each point of cover they took, men poked their bodies up and unleashed a hailstorm of lead in the direction of the enemy. From each point that the Killians stopped, a handful of men stayed in that spot to cover fire their comrades and keep up the seven millimeter rounds being fired onto the rebels.

This enemy though, was not going to rollover and die. As the Killians returned fire with their new KAR-44 assault rifles, the Wiegari forces only matched them in terms of bullets. Enemy explosions rocked the streets as mortar fire rained in on the mass of soldiers attempting to push in. Infantry fighting vehicles exploded as anti-armor weapons and armor itself began punching holes through them.

The Killians had learned from Mons Dei though, and would relentlessly push back despite the lead, explosions, and enemies dumped on them. More explosions rocked the streets as the Killian soldiers began lobbing fragmentation grenades by hand, or firing then through the grenade launchers under their rifles. The Killian soldiers were determined not to lose.

The Macabees

26-04-2007, 22:33

Siege of Pir-Sar

3rd Infantry Company, 'Lagaán' Sector, Southern Approaches to Pir-Sar
Sergeant Artur De'lamanch spat towards the ground as he poked his head up over the sand bags which were keeping his platoon from being shot up by heavy rebel fire. The entire mechanized division had been ordered to open to approaches to the south of Pir-Sar by driving up the coast and then dislodging the defenses south of the city by moving in behind them. This was easier said than done. The Sarcanzas had a plethora of light and heavy weapons which the used - quite effectively - to harden their defenses of Pir-Sar. It was obvious that they knew about the strategic importance of Pir-Sar and how it would effect the outcome of the Imperial offensive in the theater of war. To put it simple, Pir-Sar would allow the incoming of a flood of Imperial soldiers - mostly infantry - which would crush the Sarcanzan Liberation Army.

As De'lamanch poked his head up he heard the snap of a bullet hitting the sandbag and he put his head back down immediately. "Shit, shit, fuck, fuck, fucker, asshole, " he swore. The others just looked at him and then went back to their own business, preparing for the inevitable assault.

Down the line an officer was rushing towards his position, keeping his head and back below the sandbags and then finished by sliding in right next to De'lamanch. The sergeant nodded and greeted, "What's up cap'."

The captain shook his head, "Nothing good. We have order to move on. Division headquarters wants us to get beyond this line of defense and then infiltrate. I don't think we're going to have much rest after we get going."

The sergeant's eyes bulged, "It's a goddamn firing squad, what the fuck do they want from us? Where the fuck is our air support?"

The other man's face didn't change expressions. In fact, it didn't have an expression. His eyes, nose and mouth formed a rock hard emotionless look which could have only been designed by war. He responded, "You'll just have to do without it sergeant. You know your orders. We're moving in."

The captain didn't say another word and then left to continue down the line, to warn the other platoons. Sergeant De'lamanch cursed again and then decided to poke his over the line of sandbags one more time. He had enough time to notice what he already knew - what he was up against was more than his platoon could handle. There were at least three platoon equivalents arrayed in multiple defensive lines in front of them. The first line, which was firing at De'lamanch every time he rose his head to peep, was composed of light small-arms and no more than a single heavy caliber machine gun. But, there was intelligence that the second and third lines held heavier caliber weapons, including light pack artillery. In other words, stuff that required heavy aerial suppression. Unfortunately, the Laerihans had forewarned that air support would not be available until later. De'lamanch shrugged, he would have to make the best of it.

Turning to his platoon he yelled, "Alright ladies, we're going over the top!"

The thirteen men under his command immediately stopped what they were doing and began to prepare themselves for combat. Keeping their rifles close to their bodies they prepared for the word to attack. It was only shortly thereafter that the light mortar and artillery bombardment began. 80mm and 105mm mortars and artillery shells began to rain on enemy positions. Shrapnel tore into the sandbags, but never hit friendly forces. But the dense dust clouds quickly engulfed the entire area, cutting visibility down to a bare minimum.

Suddenly, one could hear a whistle in the distance, and finally the sergeant's shrill yell, "Over the top!"

The men struggled at first, but then quickly rose to their feet after climbing the sand bags. Some of the bags were toppled below, but that didn't really matter now. Those quickly made defenses were now worthless, as new positions would be taken. The dust clouds still covered their advanced, and some mortars were dropping smoke bombs in order to cover their advance even more efficiently. Nevertheless, there was heavy machine gun fire coming from the opposite direction, even if it was wild. De'lamanch took the lead, and suddenly behind him one of his men dropped. The sergeant ignored it and continued to run forward - there was no room for hesitation. It only took twenty seconds to cover the distance, but it seemed like an eternity. By the time his platoon was over the first line of defense they had lost one life and two others were severely wounded in the legs. Nevertheless, it was a massacre. Their retribution was manifested in violence upon the rebel soldiers.

Hand to hand combat ensued, but quickly the first line of defense was occupied. Heavy 37mm cannon fire could be heard coming from the distance, and the screams of the wounded and soon to die. But De'lamanch knew there was no time to stop. The smoke still hadn't cleared completely and the rest of the division was moving forward. He could hear footsteps behind him, which meant reserves. Under his breath he muttered, "Great, we're the cannon fodder."

Guys were dropping all around him, but he pressed on. Soon he overcame the second line, dropping the rebels around the 37mm auto cannon. The men around him quickly shot up the remainder of the defenders, and soon they continued again. The original platoon had dropped to around five of the original men, including the sergeant, but they continued - they had been backed by reinforcements. This five minute advance would probably have to continue for over twelve hours more!

Vic de Chassenay, waters north of Pir-Sar
The gun barge Vic de Chassenay slowly approached the beaches of Pir-Sar. They had been scarred already by an attempted landing which had been forced to withdraw. The beautiful coastal houses had been burned to the ground, and their places exchanged with aesthetically repulsing large caliber artillery guns which were pointed towards the sea. The ship kept herself at a reasonable distance from the coast - around seventy kilometers. Around her were her two sister ships, the Tourmalet and the Gavelier and an ad hoc collection of various landing ships filled to the brim with infantry.

Within the bowls of the ship Admiral Pal Heslay looked over the operational guidelines which he would have to use today. A thick indentation had formed across his forehead from many years of worrying, and today it culminated into one bitch of a command. He would have order many men to their deaths for the good of the operation. These were no ordinary men. They were infantry of the 11th special warfare group, which were the best naval infantry the Krierarmada had - six thousand highly trained souls which had dedicated their lives to the art of war. Around the admiral were several other officers, three of them commanding officers of the 11th special warfare group. They all looked solemnly at a collection of maps arrayed in front of them.

Heslay thumped one of the maps with his finger and said, "This is where the landing will begin." He moved his finger up, into the city of Pir-Sar, around the area of a very famous hotel/resort and he said, "This is our first day's objective. This will serve as a headquarters for the beach head we're going to slowly carve into this city. We will use this to land thousands of men and to overwhelm the Sarcanzan defense."

11th special warfare group commander, General Gert Krupp, asked, "Did you ever receive the revised information on expected casualties?"

Heslay nodded and then dropped his head, "At least five hundred." Nobody said a word.

It took at least another two hours to prepare everything for the beginning of the operation, but it was underway on schedule. The Vic de Chassenay class gun barges sailed to the forefront of the task force, although they suddenly stopped at just under thirty kilometers distance from the beaches. In an impressing show of firepower each ship used all six available 155mm howitzers. The water rippled violently under the ships as each round left in succession - no less than ten per minute. For ten minutes the ships unleashed complete hell upon the beach defenses. Some rounds targeted the artillery, and others defending troops. Giant mountains of sand were risen into the air with each impacting shell, even if the shell turned out to be a dud. Within seconds the beach area was a single cloud of smoke and sand, and soon enough the smoke of burning buildings, bodies and machines. One hundred shells per gun were expended, or no less than six hundred shells!

All the while, the landing craft progressed under this shield of iron and high explosive. But their job was not completed! The men prayed to whatever God they believed in, and some even bent over to vomit on the landing craft floor, but most just looked dead ahead with a commitment to not die that day. Their commanders gave inspirational speeches, knowing their own fear and taking control of it so that they would save the lives of who they loved - each and every man under their command. The entire array of incoming ships was a beautiful sight in many ways, although what it concluded in was horrid. The ships did not make it all the way to the beach, the keel hitting sand bars about twenty meters off the coast. Nevertheless, the front ramps were lowered and the men hurried out. Machine gun fire hit them immediately, although the bombardment had gotten rid of most of it and almost all of the heavier caliber threats, including the artillery on the beach itself. Naval gun fire had become more sporadic, most of it hitting targets further inland which were being designated by unmanned aerial vehicles and geosynchronous satellites.

Men went down as fast as they appeared, but the men still progressed through the water as fast as they could, some already hitting the beach within less than a minute. Some men were wounded in the leg and then drowned. Others were more fortunate and killed immediately. Yet others were wounded and just wouldn't die. The exchange of gun fire did little to drown out the noise of those dying. God was with nobody this day.

11th Special Warfare Group, beach of Pir-Sar, sometime later
The original hectic fighting had died down quite a bit since the landings. Nevertheless, it was costing quite a bit to reach the day's objectives. Several hours had passed by and still they were no more than a hundred meters off the beach and moving at a snail's pace. Warrant Officer Dai D'lor had been given command of a four man team, tasked with the opening of about five blocks squared of city. Of course, there were other teams working simultaneously, but in effect they were working alone and without support. They would open the defenses to capture the day's goal. Dai D'lor had trained for three years on small unit tactics to be employed in foreign countries in order to train foreign guerilla movements - he had never expected for this manpower waste. Naval special warfare units were not designed conduct large scale naval raids, and most thought that the application of the naval infantry would have been a much smarter choice.

Nevertheless, a man was where he was for a reason.

Dai D'lor, Sergeant Exper Gertán, Sergeant Lin Ters and Sergeant For'stal Delacroix moved silently along the second street away from their starting point. Holding their assault rifles close to them, they moved ever so slowly past the intersection. D'lor signed and then signaled his men to move behind him. They would have to clear the buildings one by one. Lin Ters pushed the door open, and the three other men flooded the building without hesitation. As small arms fire erupted from the staircases above D'lor shouted, "Put your weapons down or we will fire at you!"

It was hopeless. Fire poured down on them, but they quickly shot back with will placed shots through the wooden staircases. D'lor thought to himself, shit. At the pace they were going it would take ten minutes per building to clear. The action seemed to attract people, though. Three other teams had moved in to assist their brothers, but heavy fire had errupted across the street from various windows. Many people were quick to apply heavy firepower as quickly as possible, targeting windows with rockets sometimes. As the fire fight continued one of them yelled, "Where the fuck is that helicopter we were promised?"

D'lor laughed, "We have a long day ahead of us."

3rd Infantry Company, Lagán Sector
Neither had the situation improved much to the south. De'lamanch now found himself debriefing other officers on the situation, as he was one of the few NCOs still alive to tell the story. His 'superiors' stood around him like hawks and pried him for answers. One shot across, "Why did the advance stop?"

The sergeant chuckled and replied, "Well, what did you expect? You sent insufficient resources in order to defeat a heavily entrenched enemy, across one of the most defended areas of the entire siege line! We got through the third, even fourth and even fifth lines of defense, but we were not sufficient men to keep going. My platoon was almost completely gone after the second line, with only me and two other guys in full functioning order. Even the reinforcements had been salted. Under my command I easily lost twenty men today, for good, with at least fifty wounded."

One of the officers cut him off, "Yes, there is no reason to state casualties at this point in time."

"How many were lost total," asked De'lamanch.

The same officer said only, "Currently there are reports of a total of eight hundred dead and two thousand wounded."

The sergeant didn't have any words. Were they insane? That was a tenth of the entire fucking division! He shot back, "And you want us to continue the offensive? Are you fucking retarded? We have no air support, we have no heavy artillery, and we don't even know for sure what we're up against."

Another man stepped in, "They are going to fly various air sorties during today's offensive. We are going to receive heavy ground support. In fact, we're thinking of halting the ground offensive for the day and issuing replacements for the lost. They are filtering parts of other divisions towards us to reinforce us and make sure that the Sarcanzans don't counterattack from the East, even with their limited abilities. Nonetheless, tomorrow by the latest there is to be a second ground offensive against this sector of their defense."

"What about that shit up to the north? I've been hearing heavy artillery fire towards that direction, and seeing explosions."

Another officer replied to this question, "A second landing attempt. This time it seems to be going well." He stopped and then went on, "But in the end this is irrelevant to why you are here. You are being given a field commission to second lieutenant. You will command an entire company of men - the job of a captain. You are expected to lead the spearhead of tomorrow's offensive. Are you prepared to accept this responsibility?"

"No."

"Good, congratulations lieutenant."

NationStates Jolt Archive

A Passion Play - Page 2