NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC:
For those not familar with my RPing......
I have poor selling and grammer, and I use broken english in most of my characters' speech and in some 3rd person referance. I also RP as The Jewittist Republic, The Grand First Orbita of Osea (Osean Rule), and Emeraldia, all three of these reflect my three moods and what ever I feel like at the time I RP as one of those nations. They share the same character names and military units and populations and such, but politically and geographically they are different.

I will be RPing as the Osean Rule, a religiously zelous theocracy which is known for funding anti-pagan pro-Jewish/Christian organizations. Religiously racist and all that good crap.

5nm Off the Coast of Mattian Province

A mass located in the far west of the Hotsweatian Colonial Continental Mass (OOC: Mouth full...damn) was seen beyond the admiral's eyes. He stoop below one of the three barrels of the bottom gun battery of the OSSY Ironforge, a John Lennon-class BBCVN, en route to her new home.

The OSSY (Oseat Sea Ship - Yankee) Fleet, also named The Northern Fleet, was being deployed and to be stationed in the new continental mass, the island nicknamed Mattian, and the claim which Osea had laid rule to called Mattian Province.

His face did not move, expecially due to the lack of wind. The flat plains of Mattian Province gave off no circulation in the wind currents, and thus, little to no breeze. All that was felt was the rushing wind of 12 knots, the fleet's domestic speed.

"Mi amigo, how are you this fine evening?" Asked the seAdmiral as he walked up to the Admiral. "Ah, mi amiga, just great. Tu?" Asked the Admiral to the young woman. Officals in Osea were usually below the age of thirty due to them dieing in the field of combat and Holy Wars.

"I got word from Oured, they're making you Head Magistrate de Region, mi amigo. You are pretty much a dictator for this colony." She said bowing and shaking the mans had respectfully. "Ah si, about time they finally made it offical, expecially now that I have been shipped here." He knew of the action, so did most of the politicans in the capital of Oured.

The two carried on light conversation of the final game of Roundball, a popular sport in Osea much like that of basketball and football combined, and ven discussed a few things about the Province itself. "Well, right now, it is only a Province, I wish this to become a valiant Region, or even, Republic." He commented.

Osea was different from other nations. The Rule had created a union of captured nations. The system was split into provinces, or like states with weak governments, regions, or states with powerful governments, and republics, or nations within the Rule. There are also seRules, but there is only one, Capitallia, which are the only areas, or just generally called Regions for simplicity, which has a strong federal government and legally controls its republics under it very tightly, a sort of empire or united nations captured at once.

"Si, mi amigo, it would be great if this province was a Republic of this entire island, and then some." Said the seAdmiral sitting down below one fo the barrels which were proudly pointing upwards, just at the right angle to shield both of them from the sunlight. "Si, it would be." The Admiral said back.

A few minutes passed a few words being spoken, a harsh joke or two sparking a light humorous chuckle, but nothing of grand need of mentoning until the Admiral spoke up. "Lets get the people here to form a Provincial Guard, and begin expansion into the far South East." He said, looking over at the younger woman. She smiled and said with her long brown hair in her face, tan skin unseeible, "You want to really take the island?" He nodded with a smile.

She looked at him and said "Fine, but I will not deal in heretical wars. I will try to work something out with Oured about a colony-all war strategy, what happens in the colonies stay in the colonies." She said growling. He had done this in the Sparty Islands, and he had been victorious. Admiral Marique was nto used to failure, and he was sure his fleet and soon-to-be army and airforce would surely beat any colonial force there was on the island.

He was unsure, however, on how to do it, and weither or not the colonies would be taken without their motherlands' full intervention against Osea. He did not want war on Osea, only on Mattian Province.

OOC: Pretty much, everyone on the island, I will be sending ya'll a telegram ICly on that I want everything that happens in the colonies to stay in the colonies and that we don't get carried away and land in each others' homelands. Gimme a day, since the next post or two will be me overviewing what's in the colony, what it has to offer, blah blah blah.

Davenport

The proclaimed capital of Mattian Province, grand it was. It was being built from ground up, uninhabited lands now inhabitated by eager state buisnessmen and military venturemen. Wealthy families sending off their boys and girls in armor with guns to claim land in the neutral territories, private buisnesses claimed hundreds of acres of land within minutes of Mattian Province being declared within the Osean Rule. Already the border had shifted heavily by land owners pending their lands to be reconized by officals in Davenport.

Land was spitting out of everywhere as claimers and land stakers mailed their stakes to Davenport government addresses. Scattered portions were found all over the place, and at a growing pace since most of those who moved to Mattian Province willingly moved to expand and build massive farm or private estates.

"A gift from Dios, mi amigos." Said Admiral Marique as he reviewed the revised claim sheet with the approved land claims illustrated in a slightly darker color than Mattian's own on the map.

"What is this?" He asked refered to a gray portion holding up the island. "That is the portion that venturers are forbidden to expand into, to stop any colonial wars that may errupt due to the colonies near there and their own imperial interests." Remarked a secretary, the very one who had given him the map and rough population base.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v289/Truitt/111claim.png

"Ah, I see. Well, we are growing, probably far greater than any other colony. I like that. What is our immigration rate from domestic transfers daily?" He asked. "About two hundred a day, mi amigo." Said someone else at the table which they were sitting.

"It says here our population is thirty thousand, after two days of being offical." He asked. Everyone at the table knew that it was true and nodded.

"Ah, well then, if we could somehow make it bigger...send out a government request for television and radio commercials promising land and wealth, all that postColonial B.S." He said waving his hand, telling anyone who would make the call.

Admediately the secretary who was standing and had given him the map took to her office near by to make that exact call.

"How shall we arm ourselves?" He asked. It seemed that war was the only thing on the admiral's mind. "I belive we may have a few tanks being brought in from the 79th Armored Calvary, and we have three infantry divisions coming in, a formible Provincial Army." Said an other man, some ways down the ridiculously long redwood table.

"I want the military to set up line thirty miles, standard, beyond the lines which we have the incomming claims of land. Secure it and claim everything North West of that Osean Rule and sovergein territory of Mattian Province." Commanded the admiral, having dictator-like powers.

The table agreed and a few got to work on that task. "We shall also attract fishers and farmers, make us self sufficant. Also see if any minerals and resources are here at our disposal. I want to be able to mine something in this worthless piece of shit I am calling my new battleground." With that, he got up and the table broke to do their own duties.

A message arrived at the Truitt command post.


Dear Leader of Osea,

We, the Dominion of DMG and Colony of Eborall, have noticed your recent colonization and would like to be the first to welcome you to this area. Seeing as we are the closest colony to you we would like to invite you to open trade routes with us.

If you would like further contact, send us a message.

Sincerely,
William Stryker
Brigadier General (ret.)
Chief Minister for Prince Ali
Governor of Eborall

OOC: Truitt is just an international organization, the Truitti Politika. The organization has very close political ties with three nations, listed in my siggy. The one this is RPed under is Osea.

IC:

This is grand to hear, and I would be glad to open relations with your nation. The island to the north, no? I am still unfamilar with this geography, please excuse me.

What sorts of goods do you require that mi colony could produce?

-Magistrate de Province y Admiral Antonio Marique

OOC II: This will be colonial only, I would presume, since Osea as a nation is very independant and very isolated unless it is attacking you or you are attacking it.

ooc: ah, fixed.
ooc II: yes

IC:
Indeed we are the small island to the north of your own land. Convenientely, our major port is located at our capital on the southern shore of the island - making the distance between us very short.

As for our needs, we are currently looking for luxury items of most kinds. This includes natural materials like gems and rare metals as well as manufactured goods like yachts. Please inform us of what you have to offer and what you require of us.

Sincerely,
William Stryker
Brigadier General (ret.)
Chief Minister for Prince Ali
Governor of Eborall

Ah, yachts. You are coming to one of the three largest ship builders in the world! (OOC: IC humor between myself and my three nations)

I can aid you in the producing of just about any naval and aerial item in the world, and then some, customs and what not. As to gems, I am still unsure of Mattian's worth. I have sent out expeditionary crews and the such to see what exactly this island has. There are rumors of sapphires, something that made my past colony I had under my command, the Sparty Islands, very rich, and even more rumors of amythsts, something I have yet to mine for my colonial benifits.

Perhaps these shall spark interests with your wealthy land owners in this resort area you may be creating?

-Antonio Marique

Very interesting. As of right now, I am sure of our need for a limited number of expensive goods - though our need will grow in the coming months when the resort and wealthy town are completed. We will have need from everything from major yachts to expensive speed boats and expensive luxury cars to suped up blazingly fast sports cars.

As for gems, we too have not fully explored our deposits yet. We should have the reports in soon and I have been told to expect a large bundle - so I might not think as highly about my previous request for gems. Though it is doubtful that we will have all the necessary gems and we can negotiate trade for those we don't have at a later time.

To sum it up: Luxury manufactured goods are what we are looking for presently.

Sincerely,
William Stryker
Brigadier General (ret.)
Chief Minister for Prince Ali
Governor of Eborall

Well, my reports show that in our northern regions iron and zinc deposits are heavy, meaning they may trail to your island, and if so, that could be valuable in our goals to create an industrial colonial might of economic power.

This would greatly be welcomed if the trails of these resources did sprout in your colony.

Consider the rich goods, however, sealed in stone as a supply we can do away with, as shipyards are already being constructed without workers for them.

-Antonio Marique

OOC: How is your nation/colony on imperialism?

We haven't had any reports of iron and zinc showing up in our dig sites or tests so far. However we haven't probed the southern tip of our island yet - the horn - and so it may indeed have large deposits. If it does indeed have large deposits we will be sure to trade them to you.

Sincerely,
William Stryker
Brigadier General (ret.)
Chief Minister for Prince Ali
Governor of Eborall

ooc: We do not encourage imperialism or use it ourselves. We prefer to expand our power through sheer economic strength and superior military without taking over foreign lands.

Somewhere beyond military-patroled borders

A band of prisoners taken in had escaped the forced labor camps in Davenport in homes to form a new life. Since their records were just labeled "New inhabitant" their work was only known to them and to their camp operators in the city.

The Band of Brothers, they called themselves, worked their way across the grassy plains. Flat, soft Earth with grass, a place that a tank commander or farmer would love to live.

"Mi amigos, we should stop and try to hunt for some food, we only have seven rounds and we must shoot something with meat to eat." Said one of the men. They infact had three rifles each, and only seven rounds to share. They stole the rifles from a Common, or an Oseat Marketplace, and were only able to take seven rounds, which were show pieces near the butt of one gun.

"Si, si." Said an other as he took out his rifle, loaded with a single round. "The minute I see something move I will aim and take shot." The others looked at him disapprovingly. They had not eaten, but they did not want to waste their rounds on something useless like a chipmonk; if chipmonks were even on this island.

"Amigos, shush, a rabbit." Said one as he pulled out his rifle and flicked off the safety. The group of three stopped and looked about, not seeing the rabbit. The man with the aimed rifle took his shot. "Damn, I missed." He said as a brown-like creature was seen speeding away just before the line of sight ended.

"Hey, something is moving, mi amigos." Said one, "It is right where the rabbit was, maybe you did get one!" They ran in a hurried panic to claim their prize and stopped to find dirty water spitting from the ground. "Damn, that is some black water." Said one after they studied it. Dieing of thirst one bent down and cupped it. "It is too greasy to be water....it's oil!"

Davenport

The three men, covered in a black liquid, rifles missing, came running in. "Oil, there is bloody oil just beyond our borders! Oil all over the island!" The news soon came to the Admiral and Supreme Magistrate of the Island. "Oil? Why, that is grand! The Spartys had oil, and now I shall fight for black gold, yet again! Begin the army at once, trained or not, I want to claim as much of this island as possible! Run across the plains and medows, through the forests and out of the rivers, and plant our temporary flags every so hundred meters as to show we were there first!

"We were the first to discover this here, and will be the first to mine and control it!"

With the order, 450 trained Provincial Guardsmen took off from their outer borders and started to blindly from GPS guidance plant flags.

When the first of the Iskras got to the port, they were admediately refueled and sent out to aid in the faster planting of flags along the area. The Admiral blindly colored in small bits of lands that were numbered for neutrality figures, "Mine, mine, and mine! Hahahaha!" He said in a craze. "Call Oured, we found the dirtiest of all gold!"

Davenport

The Admiral looked over his files. Ships were coming, unloading men and women and their children with heavy bags and carryings on the seven ports in his view from the tallest building, three stories, right near the shore. It was a grand sight, to see the population increase by the thousands for just that city.

Across all port towns, cities were springing out as buildings and the such were being completed. Some were well ahead of themselves, having to place new residences in make-shift huts.

The colony was growing, although mostly forcefully, but that was nothing new nor big for the people, they had lived their entire lives, or so they were told they had, in such a nation and there was nation that was better than this.

The entire colony now had nearly a million inhabitant in almost a month, a new mark for the young Admiral. "Here is the updated offical map, and here is the updated unoffical map." Said a secretary walking through the doorless threshhold handing him a folder that contained two printed-off sheets of paper from MS Paint.

He reviewed them and nodded. "Very nice, very nice indeed." He reviewed over them and said "How about confirmed oil spots?" The secretary went back to her desk, just beyond the sight of the window into the lobby, and came back after a printer was heard. "Here, mi amigo." She handed it to him and he looked at it. He whistled at seeing it.

"Wow, that much? Almost as much as the Spartys had when I first discovered it. I say we search the seas too, probably more, since the strands go into the ocean, it seems." She nodded and went back to work silently.

He looked outside for a moment as a large gray ship with an emerald-colored flag came up. "What the fuck is that?" Exclaimed the Admiral. He had not planned for a military transport ship to come to stop his gaining of population. "That, mi amigo, is the new army." Yelled the secretary through the door as she stayed at work, knowing the schedule of the incoming ships to port by heart, it seemed.

The army was comming in, that was good, and that meant the closer he was to forming a military fist in the colonies.

He quickly took the picture and closered in blue everything he wanted the military to secure, or attempt to, before the month was completed. He would stop other imperialism of other colonies and would also look for oil in the oceans.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v289/Truitt/map8sec.png

He looked at the lime green, the officalized borders, and the dark green, the unoffical borders where civilians had settled.

The next time he would make a map decision, he would want the dark green lime green, and the blue well within his grasp.

The settling of inhabitants was dieing, if not had lost its momentum, so he could not rely on that. He had to rely on the military to continue planting those flags, first in the dark green, and then into the white.

He would own the island, he was sure of it.

ooc: Warning incoming confrontation. Any effort to expand into Colonial waters will be met with force.

OOC: Good luck with that...besides, they are not military, but buisness ships scanning and drilling for any oil that may exist. I clearly left a fine line away from your coastal borders, as with anyone's else to represent colonial waterlines.

ooc: I said effort to expand - in no way did I say anything about military expansion.

Besides you don't get to decide what I call my colonial waters...

OOC: You should halt your expansion people still want to claim stuff, it's not fair to them, and several people hae claimed the lands your expanding into.

OOC: Can I join? If not, i'll delete this.
http://img384.imageshack.us/img384/5763/copyofcolonies6up.png (http://imageshack.us)

04:30
Approx. 40 Km off Truitt

The N Y C mini-fleet C-7 rolled in the rough surf. The crew had been battling the storm for some hours now, and Comander Finio Al-Vanasi doubted they could take much more, having already endured a grueling 2 week voyage of exploration from N Y C's new colony, far to the south. They had encountered many new colonies, improved their maps and charts and had discovered several offshore deposits in N Y C's waters. The commander felt a good way to cap off the sucessful expedition would be to return home safely.
So, he turned to a last resort. The nation of Truitt's colony was closer than anyplace else and, although N Y C was worried about their aggressive colonization policies, it was literally any port in a storm. Racing down to the comm room, he sent this message:
N Y C mini-fleet C-7 caught in dangerous weather system. Requesting docking permission for nearest port. Repeat, requesting docking permission for nearest port. Over.

OOC: Com'on in, I just don't know what you want me to do since...I am drawing a blank. And TSS, in the ending of my post he said that he could not rely on the civilians due to increasing numbers of nations claiming and would no longer deam their expansions are "offical" claims to the Province. Doesn't mean it can't start a war or two....oh, and check your TGs, TSS.

IC:

The seas were in fact rough for the city of Davenport, located on the prime north of the entire mass of Mattian Province. The capital city was drenched in the massive storm which was passing by.

The Admiral watched outside as people rushed off of ships and scurried like cockroaches with the light being turned on. He watched sort of in disgust, and also in resentment. He did not care for the people, but it was the weather. "Damn, I left the Islandsland to get away from tropical weather and they send me here. This might be a hurricane with my luck..." He turned to his secretary, well known to him by now, in a weeping sorrow. Her husband was out in the storm, a well known sea captain onboard the OSSY Vanguard, a Brian Johnson-class probably having the time of its life; built for travel in hurricanes of the Islandland but with an inexperianced captain.

"Si, mi amiga?" He asked as kindly as his cold heart could muster to the broken girl. "Si, a group of ship, erm, from some sort of intials, they, erm, need port." She handed him the paper before walking back sulkingly to her desk. "Si..." He murmored looking at the paper, reading the report. N Y C, he had heard that before. "Why the Hell would New York City have a fleet here...well...a fleet period." He asked his secretary, yelling through the hollowed doorway. "It is a nation you dumbass!" She exclaimed out of sorrow and tempermental instability.

"Well duh..." He said to himself flipping the paper over and writing, to be given back to his secretary to relay back, the following:

Fleet currently in the Mattian-DMG Straight,

This is painful to hear of a fell sea-goer being caught in a storm which its ships cannot hold. I am sure your hearts can withstand the rain and waves, but the vessels cannot.

I am deeply sorry, however, to prolong your torture by requesting full information on your armaments, mission, and amounts of servicemen onboard.

Signed Respectively,
Admiral Antonio Marique de Portshire

He walked past the desk and pushed the paper through the air to where it rested peacefully ontop of the edge of her desk. He grabbed it, briskly typed down the characters on the paper, and sent it in to the communications room a few rooms over. She than returned to her sorrow with the Admiral leaving the building, turning on his cellphone, to get any news from the fleet.

OOC: New York City? What is this...New York City? Is it a TV show? *shifty eyes*:D
IC:
The N Y C mini-fleet has 4 multi-purpose ships with a total of 400 men and women. They carry only light arms for self-defense. The purpose of the fleet is one of scientific and geographic exploration. We also carry a small supply of fresh water pearls, an item N Y C is one of the only regional producers of, which we are willing to trade. Pero tiempo es poco! Nos necissitimos ayuda!

OOC: You (Truitt) have a TG.

OOC: Alrighty-o. Now...what do we do next NYC?

EDIT: Check yer TGs TSS, it'ssa go, in case you don't feel like checking...

IC:

A message was quickly responded to due to a cellphone call the secretary had made.

Mi amigos, you are allowed to pass into our hollowed ports. If you have trouble, we may fire long-duration flares into the air.

Está grande oír español en esta tierra.

OOC: I plan to be an observer of whateve skrirmish takes place, but I havn't decided how I'll react.

IC: The fleet drove boldly on through the malestrom. Thankfully, the radar was working, as was the G P S, and the expert navigator took the storm in stride, coaxing the ships courses ever so slightly like a caring matron. Within an hour, the lights of Davenport blazed in front of them.

Slowly, cautiously, the 4 weary ships inched into the excellent harbor and, letting out a gleeful blast of the foghorn, cut their motors at an empty dock.

It was 6:30, and normally the crewmen would have been hardpressed to get some sleep with light streaming in through the portholes. But this morning was different. The onslaught of nature continued, and it was not a shade lighter than it had been the previous night. Too exausted to care, the brave explorers sunk into their bunks and slept.

The only one left awake besides the officers was the fleets two meteoroligists, who sat in the computer room, poring over data and radar maps with white faces and troubled eyes. The fleet was safely in port; but they knew that, for all the other ships sailing the straits between the island they were on and the mainland mainland, not all of them could be so lucky.

OOC: Cruiser patrol is the black dot, the black line is the extent of my twice daily patrols, the blue line is the extent of my long-range daily patrols.
http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y10/68157Silver/map8sec.png
IC:
[Light Carrier Task Force 'Delta']

A Swiftsure-class Trimaran Light Carrier plowed through the rough waves, escorted by two Montgomery-class Trimaran AA cruisers, two Endymion-class Trimaran Large Cruisers, 6 destroyers and 8 frigates.

Waves hit the ships violently and water crashed onto the decks, the last plane was lowered below deck.

"That's the last of 'em!" Said one of the crew chiefs over the intercom to the captain. "Good, now go get some rest, you shift has been over for the past 20 minutes." responded the Captain Janson

"Yes, sir!" Responded the crew cheif.

"How are the other ships?" The Captain asked a Comm Operator.

"The cruisers and destroyers are fine, but the frigates are being tossed around quite a bit, but still combat worthy."

"Good, only a few more hours until our patrol ends." Sighed the Captain, "Ensign, anything on radar?" "Well, we're having interfernce from the storm, but we were able to spot some ships, but the type, size, and number were unable to be positively identified."

"Ok, keep an eye out, don't want any surprises, we still need to reach the patrol boundry, and I prefer to do it without incident."

-Wire-

This is a message to all ships who have found themselves in the midst of a brutal storm.

We are currently tracking the storm and it seems to be turning south. All ships that need harbor for the time being are welcome to dock at Tia'dar Dieux. The storm seems to have avoided our island colony and how ports remain a safe haven for ships.

BuMp

OOC: That's a fair patrol line since that runs right through my oil-search programme, gives me a reason why the division is at sea, than.

IC:

OSSY Vanguard, Brian Johnson-class DDG

The storms had caused rain to fly onto the deck, causing most of the stealthy guns to retract themselves into a thresholding on the deck. The rain poored and water sprayed up onto the deck.

All crews were usually inside anyways, so only the setting up of the thresholding was all that required human intervention. They watched, most of them, out of their hull-side viewing windows and hatches, only to see mostly water from being submerged from wave after wave.

It was in fact the Islandland, stormy, wavey, and rough. They were trained for these conditions, where they grew up and where born, and also were maintaining one of the few navies that had a fleet that could withstand such conditions will little to no disfunctions besides sensors.

A man held his hand out of an open side-building hatch and the rain hitting him caused him to freak in terror and bring it back in. "Harder hitting and colder than home, for sure." He said looking at his hand, pale white from the impacts of just a few seconds.

The crew was not sure of where they were going. They were told they were searching for resources across the oceans and they all believed that the storm had definately caused them to go off trail.

All the ships had their long-range sensors disabled to prevent damage of them, due to their expenciveness. Only short-range sensors such as those to be used on the CIWS's and ship-to-ship communication were left online and deployed.

This meant that communication with ships not nearby would be impossible. No reports had come in from former satellite scans of patrols in the area, and in this weather, no nation or colony would start.

The division continued on, its four Brian Johnson-class DDGs, two Angus Young-class BBG, Voodoo-class CVN (retrofitted for VTOL operations), and a single Alice Cooper-class. It was only a small force, nothing large, but it had the firepower to level an entire fleet in just a single Angus Young-class.

It was prepared for the worst, and the Alice Cooper-class, Sweet Amber, was scanning for any threats, located in the middle of the fleet withholding gaps inbetween the other ships as to cover them all from incoming missiles and aircraft.

[Light Carrier Task Force 'Delta', Swiftsure-Class 'Sparta']

"Ma'am, we're still monitoring the unidentified ships, they don't seem to be on any certain course, but they will breech the patrol line within 5 minutes. But we have determined them to be at least 3 large ships, anything from oil ships to carriers or battleships, and several, about 4-6 smaller ships, course of action?"

"Hmm," Captain Janson looked over the radar display, and navagation system which used the data from the sensors to plot the ships courses, "Our current course, provided they stay close to their course, would bring use within 10km of them, this would occur within 20km of our colonial waters."

"Sir! Battleship Task Force 'Alpha' is ready to link up, their 20km southwest of our position." "Tell them to proceed with link up, have our destroyers and frigates head home, they've been out here for almost 24 hours"

"Yes sir." Replied the Ensign, 'Damn, this has been a long day, I'm tired, my crew's tired, and we still have 6 hours of patrol duty, stupid invasion, taking up alot of the spare ships.' Thought the captain as he watched over the seas from his chair.

The sea churned as 14 ships broke formation and headed back the direction they came from. Several minutes later several other ships joined the formation, two Atlantic-Class Trimaran Large Battleships, a single Endymion-class and a Montgomery-class, 6 Destroyers, and 8 Frigates.

The now 23 ship strong patrol spread out and continued on course for their patrol. Unknowingly also on course for an international incident. How big it would be is unknown.

OOC: 23 ships? I only have 8....that is a big and heavy battle-worthy defence you got there for a regular patrol, expecially for a colony. I guess we just RP different nations on how they run their colonies, I guess...mind if I call in reinforcements once we start shootin'?

Oh, and on this map, how big is a nautical mile, or any sign of a measure (since I am unsure on the exact span of these lands and seas)?

IC:

Onboard the OSSY Sweet Amber Command Deck

The storm's fury was showing itself on the large window paneling onboard the Alice Cooper-class. Its systems were covered with thin aluminum thresholding, so it appeared to be, with its blended stealthy hull and sloping-down hull to be a submarine from the future with an over enlarged surface structure.

The captain, Tim Overri, was an old veteran and had followed Generalissimo Marique in his ventures in the Pacific and now the Indian (OOC: I am aussming this is in the Indian Ocean for my own RP purposes of being far away from my actual nation). His face showed years of being an Oseat Revolutionary, a true Oseatisticist indeed, no one dared say a word against the Generalissimosas for fear of being thrown off the side and other ships ordered not to go help you out.

"Was it just me, or did that puddle look like Europe?" Asked a bored radar sergent looking out the window where the angled glass was catching rain and forming puddles horizontally for a brief secound or two. "Na, tu loco, mi amigo." Murmured a shipmate behind him, working on a crossword puzzle.

They were just ordered to, as usual with any Alice Cooper-class, to follow the others, and if they saw something coming to shoot like Hell in just that general direction.

The Alice Cooper-class, a prime in the nation of Osea. It was the pride of Truitti Politikan designers, being able to track and engage up to six incoming missiles and the same number of aircraft and naval vessels, all fast, small, and hostile which most systems can not protect against.

The ultimate power of a fleet rests in what it could do when under attack, not what it could do when attacking, which were the words of the Chancellor of the Jewittist Republic, a sister nation to Osea. All three nations shared the same naval views, and it showed.

The ship continued on, water spraying well deeper into the hull due to its odd shaping like a submarine and allowing a true cut in the water, like a butter knife through water.

"Mi amigo, the Sheerfault and Vanguard have accelerated two knots by their confirmations and are currently working themselves gradualy. They are asking us to go ahead and establish that speed before them, for cover." Reported a man near the captain, sitting down with a pair of headsets on; the typical radio operator onboard a ship.

"Alright, mi amigo. Command the Reactor Quarters to accelerate one and a half knots, than half a knot after the Vanguard has met our speed." He ordered firmly with ease, not with a single tone of authority in his voice. A man across the room repeated what he had said and began to type hysterically, the crackling of the keys rattling beyond the sound of the rythmatic rain fall.


EDIT:

OOC: Mind going ahead and RPing trying to contact the ships, and when not getting a responce, shoot, or do what ever your nation does when a ship crosses their territorial waters.

OOC: I have 800 ships in 3 fleets in the colonies, this would be a long range patrol. And yeah, I need my colonies as they produce alot of oil/iron/othe metals, and have alot of fish, so I protect them well, and no, I don't mind.

IC: [Light Carrier Task Force 'Delta', Swiftsure-Class 'Sparta']

The group of ships chugged through wave, after wave, Captain Janson watched over the fleet from his bridge chair, the sensors feeding him information.

He watched the faint blips of the intruding ships on the cluttered radar displays with unblinking eyes. Behind him in the CIC station officers and ensigns alike listening to reports from the other ships and stations through out the ship, several had gathered around a fiber glass "white board" they marked the course of the ships and enemy ships with "markers" using data from the sensors.

The movement of the ships made little difference as most of the crews of the fleet had come from the southern islands surrounding The Silver Sky, where there was a storm every 4-7 days.

A message came over the Captains headphone, "Enemy ships at 35km, they're diverted only a few degrees from their original course, their ETA to colonial waters 4 minutes at current speed and heading."

"Good, plot new intercept course, speed 15 knots, cut them off as they cross the line, I want to be within 20km, but no closer then 17km, close enough for a high probablity of radio contact without being readily seen in this weather."

"Aye, aye sir, course plotted, engines up to speed.....speed 12....13.....14......15 knots and steady."

The entire patrol turned in formation, the massive battleships and the smaller frigates all moving nearly seamlessly.

[4 minutes later]

"Captain, ETA 2 minutes to intercept, reading communication equipment, battlestations sir?"

"Yes, all ships to Level 2 Battlestations, target the ships, but only fire on my mark, activate the long range sensors, kick those CIWS's up to speed, tell all ships to prep the AGM-321B "Meteors" in the VLS tubes, have all ships slow to 6 knots"

"Enemy ships targeted,.....VLS tubes prepped, ready on you mark. Unidentified ships have crossed into colonial waters."

"Begin transmission on all airwaves."

[Begin Transmission]

"Attention unidentified ships, you have intruded upon Silver Sky Colonial Waters, you must stop and either turn and leave right away or stop and prepare to be board for inspection of you armaments and cargo, should no choose to do neither we will use force, and as our naval doctraine states, will we use the greatest amount of force we possess. You have 2 minutes to respond." The crew waited quitely, fingers on missile launch buttons and ready to fire the cannons, 30 seconds later, with still no reply the message was broadcast again.

As it approached the two minute mark sweat began to form on some of the sailors faces, some began to pray, while others just stayed straight faced.

Finally, after what had seem an eternity, the clock show that the two minutes were up.

"All ships you are cleared to engage, fire, fire at will!!" Yelled the Captain, right away, the sky shook from the roar of 75 AGM-321B Meteors flying out of their launch tubes, combined with 30 24 inch shells from the 2 Atlantic-Class Trimaran Large Battleships, 18 14 inch shells from the 3 Endymion-class Trimaran large cruisers, 27 8 inch shells from the 3 Montgomery-class Trimaran AA cruisers, 24 127mm shells from the 8 destroyers, and 4 6inch shells from 4 frigates, all roared towards the enemy ships, bent on nothing less then rendering them nothing more then floating scraps of metal.

Most of the shells were AP with a few HE shells mixed in to render any "Shortstop" type system nearly useless.

The battle had begun, only on side would emerge alive.

OSSY Sweet Amber

"Damn, this is a hell of a storm." Whispered the captain to himself. He looked across the windows and then skimmed over the sensors. Nothing. Their long-range sensors had been picking up various movements, but as soon as a ship-like shape had picked up it had disapeared. The storm was really screwing with the sensors.

He sat down in his chair in the middle of the command deck, looking around, when the dem white light seen in the entire room turned violently red and orange, flashing. "What the fuck!" Exclaimed the captain jumping up. A missile was incomming. "Close Ins have activated and are tracking an unidentified sea-skimming missile, mi amigo!" Yelled out a weapon's bombardeer as he studied his screen. "Wait, two, no, five, there's over thirty coming this way!" Yelled out the same boy as he watched and started crackling off at his keyboard.

"Alert the other vessels, we are under attack! Activate countermeasures admediately!" Yelled out the captain as, without being told, the Countermeasures Departments, three men side-by-side, were already working.

Admediately most of the fleet's vessels stopped and the Alice Cooper-class sped infront of the group. Its' CIWS, four Yk38 Spitter Dual-Barrels and four Yk55 "Fineline" Quad-Barrels, began firing, their "spitting" sound heard across the roaring ocean and clouds.

Their rounds were seen as orange as they flew infront of and behind incoming flares of yellow; missiles. The CIWS took out admediately five of the incoming missiles, and as a missile flew right beside the Sweet Amber, not even a hundred yards away, a Yk55's rounds sliced the missile in two, causing it to blow and a nearby missile to get off track, and unable to recover in the winds, fly into the ocean and blow just before the Vanguard, the Brian Johnson-class DDG.

The entire fleet errupted in chaos as CIWS, a favorite of the Osean Fleet for armament, yelled across the open seas, destroying missiles after missiles.

Skyskimmer, or an advanced shortstop/low power laser countermeasure system, deployed on the Angus Young-class BBGs, blowing two missiles without even entering CIWS range prematurely.

A missile, however, rammed right into a Brian Johnson-class DDG, dispite its entire starboard CIWS, three, firing at it. The explosion flew around the entire hull and the flames licked the command tower.

A second, and then a third, hit the now-shocked vessel, and it was definately a lost cause as men now made the final commands to launch out countermeasures for the other ships and to abandon ship and try to get into an other ship still floating.

The countermeasure of the vessels, however, was a sight. Flares rocketed from inbetween superstructures and then ignited with shrapenal, like chaff, deployed off its covering. LADAR-confusionary flux material also ejected from the defence mechanisms, in an attempt to confuse and redirect incoming missiles.

On the sides of the Sweet Amber her trianglular defencive suites activated all at once, their explosions alone would confuse many sensors and the light and depris caused would cause even more confusion.

Flares and chaff and rockets flew from these suites and some of these defencive rockets, designed to give off long-range IR protection ramed into missiles who were flying in waves.

Out of the over 70 missiles deployed thirty had hit directly and eight had hit indirectly.

The single submarine below the surface, an Oured-class SSN, admediately sped forward and launched out rocket-assisted torpedoes just to make some vessels try to waste countermeasures and time.

The Voodoo-class CVN which was retrofitted for VTOL operations suffered the most critical loss. Every single JF-55D Fighting Merlin Hawk onboard was lost as the entire vessel, obviously targetted purposely more than the others due to its carrier status, sunk. Its lack of self-CIWS and being in the middle made it a prime target and kill.

Two Brian Johnson-class DDGs and an Angus Young-class BGG and the Alice Cooper-class PDAG remained, and one Brain Johnson, the divisionship, Vanguard, was heavy damaged. The single Oured-class SSN stayed ahead of the fleet and deployed sensors to aid in long-range detection.

A distress call was sent out for reinforcements, which were more than an hour away, and the second attack was not given a chance. As the defence was being done and half of the defencive stores onboard every ship was left, all VLS and torpedo tubes were loaded and the missiles went to flight and the torpedo tubes launched out strike missiles.

They all fired out Archer-type Missiles with the torpedo mission while the torpedo tubes fired out Sunburn Anti-Shipping Missiles in an attempt to cover as their HMP Drives pushed them in full reverse, and with their hull design, they could go just as fast in reverse as forward with only a few knots sacrifised.

Going at their own maximum speed, they stayed fairly close, since the maximum speeds were just a knot or two difference.

Total fired:
12 - Archer-type Missiles w/ Torpedo Mission
14 - Sunburn-type Anti-Shipping Missile

OOC: To my understanding, you arn't within gun range. If you were, than I would have detected you by now. I said long-range sensors (missiles and such) were down, not low-range sensors (unless you have those things as railguns, of course).

Also, the Archer is a complicated missile system, but it is hard to confuse it (it uses many bands of detection, satellite, IR, radar, LADAR, optical) but the Torpedo Mission is where the missile carries a torpedo and then drops it just out of most CIWS/anti-missile range, and causes the single hostility to become two as the missile uses its left-over fuel as a missile warhead and the torpedo uses its rocket engine to fly, litterally (underwater, of course), into the hull. It goes straight, however, and it not guided. The Sunburn-type is just a long-range Tomahawk.

The fleet commander wearily listened in on the radio transmissions the long-range reciever was picking up and rechecked the sattilite imagery he downloaded from the GOVnet. It appeared Truitt and The Silver Sky were entering a conflict. The government at home, he knew, would be debating what to do. N Y C was a peaceful nation, but it would do anything to protect its colonies and citizens.
The colonial office was greatly troubled by Truitt. They were prehaps the most imperialistic nation in the Hogsweatian sphere, and were quickly becoming a threat to the region. Furthermore, The Silver Sky's control over what was labeled on the commander's ever changing regional map "The Straits of Sky" made them a nation N Y C's merchants and navy wanted on their good side.
It seemed, then, N Y C would be more inclined to enter the war on the Silver Sky side. If they entered the war. That was a big if. In the meantime, the commander listened in on the crackling of distant radios and waited.

I approve of this title for all the good of Metallica, let it be known!

OOC: Shell range for me, is >175km for larger shells (+14inch), and <300km for smaller shells, I don't use ETC or railguns, but rather the Mark 71 Naval gun: http://s6.invisionfree.com/International_Mall/index.php?showtopic=817

Basicall you entire colony would be within gun range from the last patrol line.

What's the size of the warhead on the torpedo rockets?

OOC: I am under the assumption that an inch is 200km on the map, since this is supposed to be a massive continent, according to the main thread on the Hogsweatian Claims. I just would like to know the scale of this map before we continue on any more.

To Layarteb,
I always name RPs I plan on making good and interesting after Metallica or AC/DC songs so....yeah. Thanks for the approval.
EDIT: Here is one of my other topics I have done on II about internal affairs. I kind of stopped half way through, but I'll finish it soon enough. "Master of Puppets (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=442686)"

The N Y C 9th fleet was rushing north at top speed to back up their comrades. There was a war with Truitt afoot. In a few hours, the concealed weaponry on the discovery expedition would be bombarding the port they were docked in at a range closer than almost any naval bombardment in history. When all was done, it was hoped, Truitt would have a port in ruins.

ooc: I believe, at least according to the measurement Hog gave on the map, one half centimeter = 100 km. So... an inch would equal roughly 508 km.

OOC: Nice, I was hoping start a line of trade difficulties with TSS and got a colonial war. Sweet, this is turning out better than I thought! I will make a reply to your post IC through editing this once I ask Hogsweat about the scale.

And what has happened to your ships at dock? Oh yeah, you do realize that my ships were attacked and are calling for defence, not aid in destruction. They are actually retreating. Storm blew em into the fight, pretty much.

EDIT: Thanks, typing up my IC now. Also, that means my ships would have detected his ships, but for RP sake lets say that they thought they were international traffic.

EDIT II: I am assuming your ships already left my harbor.

I am showing the destruction of my retreating vessels as I am RPing my Admiral's response and stuff like that, so you guys go ahead and RP any losses.

IC:

Davenport

There was no stationed military ships, the few stationed were deployed for their oil searching duties. The message, and the departure of the "peaceful" ships, came in very quickly.

Admiral Marique looked around. People were scattered, running back and forth for cover of the massive storm, now spitting out bolts of bright light beyond the horizon inland and towards the now-known battle. He was like the others, blended in with a thick raincoat and

The rain was not flying down or in a constant direction. It seemed the weather in this chain of islands was more hostile, the wind changing direction violently. The Admiral would get a face full of metal that was freezing to his sensitive and scarred face, and the next be pounding by nails in his back.

His head ducked low, hands in pockets, his earpiece in connected to his cellphone, constantly relaying radio transmissions. The division that had left their humble ports to go against his retreating men. It would surely be a massacre. He knew that the small division stood no match, and that he had to call in the big guns, to reclaim the only thing he was proud of, the only thing he knew; the sea.

"There are now vessels on our radar, just south, south west of our current position. They are coming from Davenport! Allies!" Not even a few seconds passed before the roar was heard of yelling of hostile ships to their south west. "Mi amigos..." He muttered to himself in respect for those who have fallen, and will fall, as he finally saw the building's front doors which had an emerald-studded seal of a Merlin Hawk in a triangle, the Truitti Politikan Seal of Respect and Recognition.

He only glanced at it, instead of getting on his right knee and praying the faithful prayer. Some noticed his infidelness in the lobby, but then once seeing him fling off his coat to show the patch of the Merlin Hawk itself on his left shoulder, they ignored the violation.

He nodded at them as they stood up abruptly and saluted their right fists over their chests. He did not slow, however, jumping into the elevator and pressing on the "4" button.

Just as the button lit orange the jerk of the ill-constructed level took its will on the Admiral and he gained some sense of what was going on. The yelling over the cellphone was lowering. He knew already that their life line, the Sweet Amber, had gone down, but had fired off some last-minute missiles before jumping into the ocean.

He heard the yelling even as the door violently swept open to his secretary and two other men in uniforms standing in his path. "Si, mi amigos?" He asked looking at the four. "Mi amigo, it seems that we cannot save our allies out to sea, the 1st Provincial Fleet will take an hour to get here, and our air base can't, under any circumstances, launch aircraft on their ill-paved runways. We have only been combat-ready for a week." A man said, wearing a dead-white top and black pants, full uniform. He was the man assigned to the Aoure, the Air Force, to Mattian Province.

"Si, and mi army can not do much but shoot artillery, barely. It is barely prepared for Provincial Defence, and now we are faced with this?"

The Admiral had not listened much, he had heard the last of the yells, a confirmed launching of three missiles before the Vangyard sunk. "What is the status on our railgun defence?"

The four looked at him and the General, wearing a tan shirt and black pants, responded "We have four batteries located here, and two batteries in Southfolk." He said from memory. "Prepair all four of them. We will hit them if they try to even get close to us." He said. "Ready any force we have available, they'll aim for the capital, for sure. They are the aggressors, and we must defend ourselves." Everyone nodded.

Before the meeting was over, many things were discussed and agreed, but before they had dispersed, the Admiral asked something. "Where was that fleet?" The secretary pulled out a map and showed it at last report before retreating. "That is about ten miles from the waters...we might have just accidentally started a war by going off course."

The four knew this, the Admiral had just found out. He simply smiled and said "A war over an accident. This will look great way up in Oured." He noted. The politicians would love it. A storm shot off an expedition force off course, a defencive force attacks it, and then pursues it. A probable counter on the capital, a great story.

"Prepare the Armals and Aoure, we can not rely on the sea until the First Provincial gets here." Ordered Marique with the two military advisers and two deskmen standing up and pounding their chests with their right fists than releasing. "Un golpe, mi amigo." Each said under his or her own breath as they dispersed.

The entire city was preparing itself for war, and the Province would soon enough be at war the minute a hostile enters their waters.

BUMP since I edited and no one is alerted of my responce.

OOC: Basically, I'm siding with TSS because I'm worried about how imperialist you are, adn TSS contains some trade routes I need. So, my docked ships have concealed weaponry they're going to bring out and bombard your port from inside the port itself, which should give it a high sucess rate. Meanwhile, my reinforcements are going to cut off your retraeting forces so they don't interfer with my bombardment of Davenport. Is that what you were asking?

OOC: Yeah, that's what I wanted to know. Oh, and I posted the railgun portion for the fact that to prove I have them (something I always do to all colonials, put up railgun defences) and to have a force against your fleets. You do relize this is the capital of my colony, so it has three military bases, and you are just in the middle of a civil port, and nothing more.

Go ahead and post your attacks onto the port and I'll post my actions.

OOC: Aren't railguns PMT?

OOC: Ok, on the main map here: http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y10/68157Silver/colonial6wv.png
There is a scale, circled, and the yellow dot by our colonies is right over my ships, everything under it is within 50km of my ships, (1 pixel=~4km), so ya, I can hit ya with shells.

Will get an IC post in a bit.

OOC: I might make an OOC thread for this....and no railguns, at least 21 inch or less, are 2010 tech, and that is what I RP as. If you guys are against that, well, you have are fighting the wrong guy. My entire fleet uses designs that are to be used by 2010, and my entire Air Force is a 2010 Force.

This map is smaller than I thought...oh well, my guys are dead (as I RPed happening). Have to fast forward things.

[OOC: TAG for an IC post, since your [Truitt] proposed expansion, both on land and sea, is getting way too close to my borders for my IC liking. It'll essentially be a post of our border forces going on a higher alert, and perhaps a diplomatic communique warning your government to refrain from aggressive imperialist moves in our direction, and we'll see how it goes from there.]

Veritas City, Veritas, Halberdgardia, 1345 Local Time

A solitary figure sat at the fine oak desk at the center of the richly-appointed oval-shaped office. A few patriotic knickknacks and stacks of paper covered most of the desk. Much of the office's walls were covered with oak bookshelves built right into the walls themselves, and were filled to the brim of a huge variety of tomes, ranging from the ancient classics to contemporary works. All these items were just a few of the decorations of the room, decorations befitting the Governor of Veritas.

And at the moment, that Governor was furious.

Harmon Sanford had to work to resist the urge to go on some sort of destructive rampage within the confines of his office, to cast papers off his desk or rip books from the shelves. He had just been informed of the intentions of the nearby colony of Osea, which, despite its affiliation with the nation of Truitt, appeared to be at least semi-autonomous. To that end, the Osean government had apparently decided that they were well within their bounds to conduct an aggressive imperialist expansion across the island, seizing not only as-yet-unclaimed land, but laying their proverbial hands on the resources of the seas as well, including waters that were technically considered to be either the territorial waters of other nations, or international waters. Both the land and oceanic expansion of the Oseans brought them dangerously close to Veritas. Veritas was well-defended, but still, Sanford feared a war. He needed to put his foot down and show the Oseans that he was not afraid to draw the line, lest the Oseans overrun Veritas in their lust for territory.

He began to type.

To: The Government of the Colony of Osea
From: Harmon Sanford, Governor of the Provincial Territory of Veritas, the Democratic Imperium of Halberdgardia
Re: Expansion

It is with some alarm that I noticed the recent Osean proclamation of their intentions to expand Osean holdings both overland and across the territorial waters surrounding the island. While I have no doubt that your government harbors no ill will toward either the provincial government of Veritas, or the federal government of Halberdgardia, I must say this: we will tolerate no aggressive expansionist powers as neighbors. Any unwarranted attempt to impede the growth of Veritas through aggressive, imperialistic expansion will be met with force. As is our right as an incorporated entity of a sovereign nation, we reserve the right to dictate our own borders and territorial waters, and to have those limits recognized and respected in peacetime by foreign powers. Therefore, we ask that you recognize our borders as shown on the map below, and refrain from infringing upon them.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v465/neotheone175/NationStates/Modern%20Tech/ColonialRegion_IslandMap.png

As you can see, proposed expansions stretching to the border of Veritas have been rolled back, as well as the oceanic claims that went with it. The oceanic borders, in particular, are absolutely non-negiotiable. We will not stand for a foreign power infringing upon our sovereign waters.

However, we are not entirely closed to the possibility of diplomacy to resolve this conflict. We invite you to join us in exploring us in avenues of peace, and not hostile actions, to come to an agreement that benefits us all.

Respectfully,
Harmon Sanford
Governor of the Provincial Territory of Veritas
The Democratic Imperium of Halberdgardia

Meanwhile, across Veritas, military forces were placed on elevated alert, in case the message was met with a hostile response by the Oseans. The province was now on DEFCON 3.

OOC: Don't find the "imperialist-fascist" tagline to be too offensive, 'cause that is how the Omzian government talks under the shining guidance of the Eternal President :p /OOC

Joint Declaration of the Omzian Government: Recent Expansionist Activities of the Osean Forces Assailed

As we watch on at the events unfolding around the liberated territories possessed by the sovereign entities of both the Omzian Republic and Halberdgardia, the recent activities undertaken by the militarist-fascist-expansionist bandit-"government" of the Osea within close proximity nevertheless raises serious concerns. Though initially the course of the events did not seem to affect the security of the holdings of either our or our ally (Halberdgardia's), the recent proclamation is beyond alarming. Though we have not yet received any explicit threats, on the basis of information provided by our intelligence services and our own observations, that were issued directly by name against both aforementioned holdings, the recent proclamation has not only unveiled the full extent of the greed and thirst for blood and territorial gains long possessed by the mafia-gang "government" of Osea, but also revealed the danger posed by the aforementioned "government" against not only the stability of the island itself, but also the entire region.

Therefore, we feel that it is pertinent that an official warning must be issued to the gangsters-fascists of Osea. While it is not our business to intervene in the other imperialistic-expansionist robbery-like ventures taken by the Osean "government" and "military" across parts of the island not yet occupied by any sovereign nation, it is instead crucial that the Osean fascists be warned that trespassing the bonds of either the liberated territory of New Konara or the Halberdgardian territory of Veritas is strictly forbidden in the view of the Omzian government. While we are in no doubt that the Osean fascists-imperialists may simply ignore this bold warning outright due to their own arrogance and nearsightedness, nevertheless they must also be aware of the potential, and disastrous, consequences of making even the slightest of an attempt at invading either New Konara and/or Veritas through either land, water, and/or air. Therefore, we must hope that the Osean government will heed this warning, and respect the clearly defined boundaries of both the Omzian and Halberdgardian territories in the area, for the sake of their own survival.

Whether the "government" of Osea chooses the paths of war or diplomacy, is a matter that we cannot entirely control in our own hands. On the other hand, it is our sincerest hope that the Osean "government" is fully aware of the potential consequences if they indulge themselves in an invasion of either New Konara or Veritas as a part of their ever growingly pervasive campaign, and chooses the shining path of negotiation and compromise instead. If the Osean "government" is foolishly enough not to follow the advice of both the honourable Halberdgardian and Omzian governments, then the only alternative fate for the Osean bandits is total annihilation in the hands of the Omzian forces.

Do not test our patience. Whether or not Mattian "Province" will become a Special Liberated Region, after having the colonial-gangster headquarters of the imperialist-fascist Osean "government" there showered by a thunderstorm of missiles, is up to the Oseans themselves to decide.

Signed with concern and anticipation for a prompt reply,
Special Administrative Authority,
Special Liberated Region of New Konara

OOC: This is getting juicy. Expect no replies since the entire capital has more worries on its mind. So ya'll know, the water borders I colored in was not to take, but to search for oil, such as the USA has done in the Gulf of Mexico.

IC:

1st Provincial Fleet Tagnamed "Grateful Dead"

The fleet sailed across the now-calming western coastal waters. The massive storm was still over the majority of the northern areas of the Province, but had passed a good bit of the rest of it.

The fleet, centralized by a John Lennon-class BCVN, proudly flew across the ocean at breath-taking speeds of twenty-two knots, the speed of the slowest logistics ship in the fleet. The John Lennon-class, the OSSY Reload, was constantly shooting out VSTOL JF-55D Merlin Hawks, the pride of the Oseat Air Supremacy.

The black-colored ghosts flew all around, most of them with their switch-bladed wings in their delta position, to symbolize triangles in the air. The triangle being the shape of the entire Truitti Politika.

"Admiral Sanchez, we have reports of two enemy naval divisions going towards Davenport." Called in a satellite's engineer, in charge of the International Geographic Rangefinder, a direct link-up to ships across the world under the Oseat Flag. It showed a picture of the straight inbetween many towns and cities in the colony, and also showed a good amount of red pod-shaped figures heading towards Davenport.

"We're being attacked? The Province has not even been offically reconized yet!" Yelled out the Admiral as he spun out of his swivel chair and, after placing his heavy arm on the back of the Engineer's chair, studied the map. They would not make it in time, he knew it, but he could help them.

"Prepair all the missile launching systems. The Melees, Swordsmans, and all the goods. If that fleet enters our coastal waters, launch. Only fire missiles that will be sure to reach that far." He ordered. Many nodded and began sending out the command to the fleet.

Across the tropical blue and blue-tinted gray colored fleet men began loading strategic missile silos, placed across their decks, with long-range strike missiles, made mostly for hitting coastal areas, but would be used for striking hostile vessels.

"Call up Marique, we'll be there in two hours." He barked out.

Davenport Centre Pueblo

The entier building was buzzing with excitement, but not the fun and enjoyment-filled kind. Many were seen walking briskly across the many marble floors, throwing messages and yelling out replies from toher offices where phones were being used just as much as verbal communication was.

"We have the fleets closing in, and the railgun installations wil take at least thirty minutes to come online. The fleet may enter our waters in less than twenty minutes, and we need to stop them from hitting us." Reported in a tactical advisor, following the near-jogging Admiral and Head of Province as he made his way to the Mattian Provincial Air Command And Strike Center, or M-PACASC. The computer-filled room was overwhelming, screens showing air fields, paved runways, highways, and hangers. It showed JA-1 "Black Eagle" stealth strike aircraft being pulled out of semi-underground hangers by towing vehicles and JF-55C Strike Merlin Hawks taxiing themselves onto the taxiways, taking off from there due to their VSTOL capabilities.

"What is the status report on an air strike if they enter our coastal territory?" He asked as soon as the head of the office, a very young and ill-shaven man, stood up and flung his right fist to his chest. He looked over for a minute at the hangers and said proudly "Our air wings are prepaired to launch in about an hour at one-hundred percent, mi amigo." The Admiral did not like that report, although he knew it was the best they could do under the weather conditions. "Get as many airborne and keep them inland. Deploy out first any Hawks that have anti-ballistic missile stores. They may try to launch a missile attack. Then send out anti-aircraft support. We'll defend first. Keep the Eagles behind lines." He ordered out, already knowing what he wanted the base to do.

"Mi amigo," said a young and lean woman stopping right behind the group that was following the Admiral, "I have reports of the First Provincial being only two hours away, and prepared to launch long-range strike missiles as soon as given orders to do so." The Admiral was pleased that the fleet had taken its own orders to come seriously and were prepared to help from afar. "Order them not to fire until they are within aircraft launching range and even then, do not launch unless they have entered our waters." He commanded out softly and calmly.

"Give me a phone, I'm going to call the head of that damn colony that The Silver Sky has under its belt." He admediately was given a cellphone and scrolled through it for the hotnumber. He found it and pressed "SEND" and then awaited an answer.

[Light Carrier Task Force 'Delta']

After the brief confrontation and slaughter of the enemy forces the ships stop to fix damage, several of the smaller ships had sustained hits from missiles and minor damage, a single frigate was floating in the waves, fire belching from 5 holes in it's sides, the crew had abanded ships, but most of the commanding officers were killed when a missile exploded near the bridge killing the captain.

"Attention Naval Command this is taskforce delta, enemy forces destroyed, the storm has cleared up quite a bit, requesting reinforcements and permission to preform an armed recon of the enemy lands." Said Captain Janson over his radio, a reply was picked up in a short few minutes.

"Roger that Taskforce Delta, the rest of the fleet are on their way, should arrive in a hour, but a negative on the recon, we don't want this any bigger then it is."

**To finish later.**

All systems were ready on board the mini-fleet, and backup was on the way. The gleaming ships slowly headed to the mouth of the harbor, nonchalantly, as if they had no concerns on their mind at all. It was important to get just outside the harbor so they couldn't be trapped and surrounded by enemy boats.

Having just entered the ocean, the ships turned around and started aiming their guns. From what the commander could tell, no one on shore realized what was going on yet. But they would in a second. At such close range, the medium sized guns aboard the ships would be quite deadly. It was deathly still for a split second, but then came the word they had all been waiting for. The imperialist ambitions of Osea had to end. "FIRE!"

The guns roared like enraged animals as the men swiveled them around. The explosive devices shot out the guns, whistled through the air and landed in great pillars of flame, almost blinding the sailors. They only had a few moments, so they chose their targets carefully. The naval base was a focus point, as were the docks and any administerial buildings. Another point they tried to destroy was the lighthouse at the harbor entrance (OOC: you don't mid if I assumed there was one, do you?).

They had been attacking for a few minutes, but as smoke filled the air it became harder to aim, and the last several bombs missed entirely, exploding in the water, although it was impossible to tell if they landed close enough to the docked ships to damage them. Content that they had possibly crippled such an important naval launching point for the Oseans, the mini fleet sped out into the ocean at top speed, hoping to reach their backup in time. They weren't out of danger left, but they had certainly carried out an important and hopefully effective mission. For N Y C, the war between empire and democracy had begun.

Eborallian High Command

"Sir, we are getting reports of a confrontation between our colonial ally The Silvery Sky and the new Osea colony. It appears that a Osean recon group crossed over into TSS waters and was met by a patrol. Because of the storm, they were unable to communicate and a battle raged."

"What was the outcome, private?"

"Sir, the Osean recon was dessimated while the TSS patrol took minor casualties. Reports that much of the Osean recon was destroyed are coming in while one TSS frigate was decomissioned by missile fire and a few smaller boats sustained light damage."

"What now?"

"Sir, it seems that the storm that has been interfering with all radio equipment in the area is lifting. It would seem that both Osea and TSS are calling for naval reinforcements. After that... anything is possible."

"Alright... anything else?"

"Sir, actually there is. It seems many other colonies in the area are becoming interested in the recent events. Some are condemning Osea's imperial expansionism while others are getting more 'involved.' Apparently the exploration taskforce sent out by the colony of NYC docked in Osea's main civil port for harbor from the storm. However, NYC is also bringing 'reinforcements' from the south and the most recent reports say that they have begun their bombarding of the capital from within.

"I see... alright. Bring us to DefCon 2. Send a message to TSS. Prepare our forces..."

"Yes, sir!" the private saluted as he turned and hurried out of the admiral's office. Hurrying from desk to desk, he relayed the admirals orders and the notification went up across the colony.

All Colonial forces - We are now moving to Defense Condition 2 - Prepare yourselves for any event. All military personell are to report to their positions immediatelly and await further orders.



---Wire to The Silvery Sky---
We have recieved word that you and Osea have recently had a confrontation. If your ships need to dock for repairs or munitions, we would be happy to accomodate you at the joint port of Tia'dar Dieux. Also, if your require any aid or assistance during upcoming confrontations, we would be more than happy to help.
---End of Message---

Veritas City, Veritas, Halberdgardia, 2145 Local Time

"Governor Sanford!" The aide rushed into the Governor's office, frantically waving a piece of paper, presumably a report of some kind.

"Settle down, man! What is it?"

"Sir, we've got news of hostilities between Osean forces and foreign powers."

"Jesus Christ, who?"

"Initial reports show that after some sort of communications disruption and confusion in a storm out at sea, a Silver Skyian naval patrol attacked and decimated an Osean naval force. Also, a NYC naval task force docked at the Osean port of Davenport apparently start shelling the port from within the harbor, and is currently blasting its way out. Satellite imagery shows that NYC reinforcements appear to be on the way to support that element."

"Get me on the horn to COLMILCOM [Colonial Military Command] and get us up to DEFCON 1. I want our border defenses on maximum alert and strength. There's no telling what the Oseans will try with these new developments."

"Yes, sir."

Across Veritas, the military was mobilizing. Hundreds of F-150 "Ebonhawk" fighter-bombers and F-150A/S "Strikehawk" air superiority fighters were readied, along with B-300 "Scimitar" heavy supersonic strategic bombers, and a variety of other aircraft. The Second Fleet, which had stopped by Veritas' port facilities for re-supply, had now been ordered to stay and provide for the colony's defense, and all of the infantry and armored divisions across the colony were preparing for war. If the Oseans continued their aggression in Veritas' direction, they would have a nasty surprise in store for them.

"Colonel-General Donkarez!" a colonel proclaimed as he bursted into the office of the commander-in-chief of the New Konara Expeditionary Forces. "I have just received a digital wire from the governor's office and our outside sources in Halberdgardia. Take a look, sir."

The Colonel-General looked down and skimmed over the paper, a concerned and worrisome look gradually infesting his face. With an instant, he grabbed the blue pen that sat idly on the wooden surfaces of his desk, which was cluttered with paper of different types and assortments. "Is this why you are wearing a helmet, Senior Colonel Jonkares? Take it off," he looked up and said.

"Well...", the colonel's voice trailed off, and he altered his pose into a more tense one. "For one, by looking at the report, I do not doubt that hostilities could erupt all across the island, possibly engulfing New Konara as well. Granted, we have been a defensive pose and the warning has already been sented out to the Oseans, but there is a stark possibility that this current hostility between Osea and The Silver Sky and allies could erupt into something much larger. Something that we will not be prepared for if we do not prepare immediately."

The Colonel-General contemplated, his chin resting on his thumb, and his eyes bearing a burning intensity as its rays splattered on the rough surface of the typed-out paper report. "What does our J-2 say?", he asked, inquiring about the officer responsible for intelligence in his staff.

"Lieutenant General Moran concurs with the fact that we need to mobilize immediately, in a defensive posture," the colonel replied, a small trickle of sweat dripping from his forehead. "The J-3, the ops chief, recommends a general mobilization. We have already placed all air force squadrons on standby, and the navy battle groups are alo steaming from port to move into a defensive position. There has been no explicit signs of an attack on New Konara specifically however, hence why we are moving into a defensive posture."

The Colonel-General nodded as a sign of understanding, and scribbled his tightly-packed signature above a thin line on the report. "Send my signature immediately. I also want all six PAP divisions to take position i the cities themselves, especially Donyaniz. Also, if I may ask you," the Colonel-General paused.

"Say it."

"Place all three missile regiments on alert. If the crap hits the fan, I want all the hundred-something missiles launched at the Osean colony's capital. Understand?"

"Understood, sir," he said as he received the report from the Colonel-General's hands, and packed up his opened briefcase. He saluted, and ushered himself out of the room.

OOC: I am sort of addressing everyone in my speech, and as to NYC, no hard feelings, but that is how my radical politics are in these situations.

Davenport

Shells rang through the capital as the once immobile and saved naval division turned on its safe holders, declaring an act of war on the entire Province, something the Admiral and Chancellor both would not look upon likely.

The nearly three month old colony was feeling the effects of war way too early, and the people, knowing of war in the past, did not expect it so early in their transfers to the Province.

The Admiral and everyone else immediately took cover in Stormbunks located under the Davenport Centre Pueblo. The ringing of shells of various sizes were heard, but none were expected to come as far inland to hit the building or the massive government installations.

The Aoure Base was active now, with war on their doorstep. "Bloody ingrates! We keep them safe and this is how they pay us, huh?" Yelled out a Flight Operations Manager looking at the radar and seeing the larger 18 and up inch-sized shells hit buildings and infrastructure. "Blast their fucking heads off!" He yelled to one in particular, in a drunken rage. He pulled out a radio siren and yelled out "Invasion!"

Across the airfield and Armal Base just a few kilometers away, the siren rang with his voice constantly repeating "Invasion!" All three bases near the city began to be active. The Shipyard Base, located just ten or so kilometers from the city, activated at once. Two Brian Johnson-class DDG and an Alice Cooper-class PDAG were all in the base, and they immediately activated. Four on-patrol Oured-class SSNs immediately rushed to the base and began searching silently on the sandy bottom for any signs of an incoming naval concentration.

After the shelling ended the entire city had smoke stacks and a few lights which could be seen in the air, the lights of fire licking the once-proud resort buildings in the capital.

Not even five minutes passed until the Admiral came on the television, of both Provincial and Oseat bands.

He was seen, very tired and exhausted, but that how make-up had made him on purpose. He began steadily and slowly got into a more official tone.

"Today, mi amigos, the Fourth Satellite de Osea, Mattian Province, has been attacked unprovokingly, probably due to international disliking of the Osean Rule and its policies. It is not out of the question that this may have happened by a storm blowing a oil-searching patrol off course into foreign waters, and it is not out of the question that a division from an other foreign colony, in an act of brotherhood, that we took in for refuge of the same storm in question that may have caused this whole massacre, turned on our loving hands and fired into the heart of Mattian, Davenport.

"This nation, The Silver Sky, has only acted in defence, as far as intelligence has come to, but the nation of N Y C has informally declared war on Mattian Province, and depending on their nature, possibly the Osean Rule.

"Their unprovoked attack in our harbors, possibly acting in a sudden feeling of paranoia, has caused a massive military build up on our half-barren and half-instable island which has no name, Noname Island."

He paused for a moment, after recognizing the attacks of TSS and their rights in doing what they did, but continued on politically attacking N Y C.

"This unprovoked attack in our capital is the highest of respectable assaults, and a total declaration of war is all that could be answered by this. As I speak thousands of men, just redirected from Tyndall Armal Base and Sand Island Aoure Base from Sparty Island Republic, have begun to mobilize in defencive actions across the entire colony, with the exception of the Hostile Lands to our east where I will refuse to order a build up for the sake of peace on Noname Island, but will still permit forces along the barren borderlands to remain.

"With enemies growing from paranoia, I wish to offer amnesty to any of those who were respectable for the cowardly attack on our capital without provocation and demand that the colonial state of N Y C in question pay for any damages done to the city, which includes the majority of the industrial and resort sectors along the coasts, including our massive portyard and many civilian property loses.

"Mi amigos, stand with me, not against any colony or nation, but against those who attack unprovokingly, and those who attack without reason nor cause."

He ended a rather smart comment. It was true, the Osean Rule had never attacked unprovoked, but then again, covert cells had always provoked some border wars.

He got off the air waves with The Silver Sky's colony looking like a fair and safe and respectable place, the nations on "Noname Island" ready to defend themselves, something he respected, and placing the N Y C colony the title of a nation of cowardly and immoral generals and leaders.

Across Mattian Province

Thousands of men in urban warfare clothing sprang to life, acting as if Martial Law had been declared, patrolling around coastal cities and prepared to gun down anyone else who flew a flag without a triangle on it. Their OSIR arms at their sides, many of the civilians felt safer and even prayed for those soldiers, knowing they were there to ensure their freedom of foreign might.

The First Provincial Fleet "Grateful Dead" was within an hour of the capital, now running in two groups; one of faster more mobile ships and one of more powerful and slower ships. The Oured-class SSNs in the fleet had all but a few sped to their fastest sailing speed in hopes to get there as soon as possible and guard the seven harbors of Davenport.

The Second and Third Provincial Fleets were still not even close to the colony, the Third still being in Sparty Islands Republic and the Second on its way, half-way through.

The ill-prepared colony was finally getting its act together, and it was seen as the night sky was broken by dozens of yellow and orange pairs of lights speeding towards the harbor where the division had attacked, armed with anti-shipping missiles and air-to-air missiles. The JF-55C Strike Merlin Hawks were stealthy, fast, and maneuverable, one of the most advanced birds on Earth and had proven that in the nearly two decades of service. Old, yet still unbeaten.

The four wings, a wing having twelve each, went on. The entire Northern M-PACASC Air Superiority Power at that moment, was blazing steadily at 712 knots, faster than the speed of sound, towards the slowly retreating division which had imvaliently attacked the city.

Behind the many diamond formations of four in each diamond was a squadron, or four, JA-1 "Black Eagle" Stealth Strike Aircraft, holding on board heavy anti-dreadnought missiles, the Megatight Experimental Missile (OOC: I have yet to post these yet on II so I'll consider them still experimental but I have posted them on off-site forums such as Earth Six and Alt-Earth).

After the air battle would be in full-swing, the Black Eagles would make their move, utterly ending the lives of the cowardly division, as The Silver Sky ended the lives of those aboard that searching division.

Armal Divisions across the entire colony prepared for war, but not for a land battle, but a defending one, keeping well away from the barren borderlands as not to provoke an arms build up on the island, but with enough of a power on the coasts to limit a successful landing of any foreign army.

Many Praetorian II and U-4 Uberfest installations came online, across the entire Province, regardless of position, and mobile radar and lidar suites opened up near these installations as to reinforce their accuracy and early-warning capabilities. More were counting in numbers as orders were made for other Provinces and Regions and even Republics to give aid and send all supplies they could to give a boost to the illy-defended Province.

Iskra Light Battle Tanks roamed across cities and Mekhev Main Battle Tanks, just slowly being stocked up in the Provincial Armory, headed the patrols along the coastlines, keeping a look out for any troubles.

Worries of over-spending came to the Admiral, and he knew he could not order out full air patrols, naval patrols, and a sonar detection net just yet, and the blow to Davenport would kill tourism. His only valuable income now was inland-based oil, precious stones, and agriculture, the dreaded class of resources he wished he could not have to rely on.

The war had not begun, but the Battle for Davenport had, as rumors of a reinforced N Y C naval blockade was coming in. He hoped that The Silver Sky would not become offencive due to the misunderstanding, as that would make his situation even worst.

ooc: let me get this straight. Are you using the attack on your capital by NYC as propoganda to declare a legit war on me?

OOC: Whoops, DMG, I thought it was you in my harbors. Let me edit that real quick...sorry. You posting probably got me a little confused.

OOC: Whoops, DMG, I thought it was you in my harbors. Let me edit that real quick...sorry. You posting probably got me a little confused.

ooc: lol, no problem. My post was just to keep my government aware of the situation and prepared to take action where necessary.

Davenport

The city laid in scars, smoke barreling above like factory exhaust and tanks rolling all across and infantrymen running back and forth, in a valiant attempt to keep order in the now crying-filled city.

Over a hundred were dead, and the attack on Devenport was being called "A move of unprovoked war and humane slaughter" by many back home in Oured, the capital of Osea and the Osean Rule.

The Admiral was stuck thinking as the retaliation air strike wings flew past the barely-touched capital building of Davenport. As the windows of the building rattled from the low-flying aircraft he began to wonder if capturing the island was a good idea. A well-known political stabber, a nation which had always had problems with the Rule, although no one could care less about this nation, had just made colonial claims to their south and south east.

Surely the island would feel imperialism, but not by the Oseats.

The Admiral then saw what he had to do. Force the N Y C division to the bottom of the ocean, and demand repercussions. He would try to meet with The Silver Sky leaders, in an attempt to save any form of relations they may have had before the incident.

He did worry, however, about their economic power. They controlled that straight, which may have provoked the attack by N Y C, to show loyalty to that nation. A cowardly and ill-fated move, the Admiral agreed with himself on, but he could see where they were coming. They wanted the good wishes of this economic giant, The Silver Sky, and Marique would not want any nation to act like that in his rein of influence.

He would not war with The Silver Sky, especially this early in the Province's lifetime, especially with the fact that the state of Osea had yet to recognize it as an actual Province. The attack on Davenport, unless avenged, would severely destroy his chances of getting recognized within that month.

He had to show he could defend himself and be self-sufficient, and by destroying the force just outside his waters that had destroyed a good portion of his coastal city, he could prove he was strong enough in this continent to be a true Province. He thought it would take the conquest of the entire island, and it would probably only take the lives of those on board those ships that he once housed in safety.

Turning back was not an option. The nations on the island, Omz222, DMG, TSS, they would have to get over it, he was not going to march into their capitals. His sights was on N Y C and that blasted fleet to his north. The destruction of that would reclaim Mattian pride and confidence that the Politika was with them.

As the roaring of the turbofans escaped his ears, he knew that it was only a matter of time before the battle at sea, bird versus fish, would start. The bird would win, it always did, and if it did not win, reinforcements were on their way from the southern bases, and missile silos located just behind the city in the Aoure bases were ready to shoot at those naval ships if the air attack failed.

TSS would not even be thought of as a target, neither would Omz22, DMG, or anyone else who had armed against them, only those who unprovokingly attacked him.

He knew what he had to do. He looked over his thresh hold, in between him and his worried secretary. She had not yet been told that her husband died in that naval battle, and he was not planning on telling her until he would relieve her of her duties. Those infidels will feel my wrath, just because they did not kill her companion, but they killed the companions of many others in this city he thought as he called to her.

She immediately got out of her seat and nodded to him saying "Mi amigo?" He smiled at her and said "Please tell the Admiral of the Province to come immediately, I wish to speak to him about retaliation one the First Provincial gets here." She nodded and left and used her phone to call him up.

Within a few minutes he appeared at the door less thresh hold, bowing, and saying his greetings; the Admiral made a motion for him to sit.

"Mi amigo, I want the fleet, the First Provincial, to come here and get reinforced with our military shipyard's own defence. After that, I want a full-out retaliation against the N Y C Fleet that is not our north. I want nothing to remain floating. If they retreat, which I doubt they will do, follow them, and I want them all to pay for hitting our fair city." He was now showing his fury against the N Y C who had attacked and had butted in their ill-intellectually fed heads into regional business, and even against those who took them in with friendly gestures.

"For future reference, no ships, civilian or military, shall ever dock in Mattian Ports if they are not of Mattian origin for emergency situations due to weather without being fully inspected and cleared of all hostile items on board." His peaceful international aid policy had radically changed for the moment, now being paranoid of even trusting what few neutrals were located about.

He had no allies, and had one known enemy, possibly two. He could not afford an other accident like before. "Bring in all patrols. No militaristic vessels are to exit our coastal waters unless given direct offencive or preemptive defencive orders."

The Admiral nodded as Marique barked out more and more orders, but the Admiral was well experienced in being told things, and remembered everything. The Admiral left with a report of the fleet being exactly thirty minutes away, within strike missile range. The Admiral liked the news and began to look out the window, just for a moment. The city was pitiful. It was something no one should see, but he had countless times.

Half of the city lay in dust brown, smoke stacks rising, and a few fires eluding the little rain showers now existing. Then, just as if by a twist of luck, within a city block, the city changes back into its pride, a grand metropolitan, housing about half a million residents. Two halves of a city, one ghetto and war-torn, and the other rich and classy.

N Y C would pay for their damages and tradorism from those who wished them good, and not by repercussions, but by the lives of their own sailors who did the acts of unholy war. The Admiral knew well not to declare a Holy War, since his last one was too close of a victory for comfort, but he would make sure the sailors that carried out the attack would see the light of the sun under the ocean.