NationStates Jolt Archive

Coast of Cydonia, 100 Nautical Miles

A Convoy of Civilian Tankers crashed through the waves of the Rough seas surrounding Cydonia, their Black Hulls withstood the torrent of sea water that was be smashed against the metal of these vast vessels, each one carried a sinister cargo, they had been retrofitted as Troop Transports, each one carrying a Consignment of Soldiers, each one with an evil and sinister mission...

The Build up was going to be swift and sudden, Two Battalions worth of Kravens New Centurians were being shipped via this Convoy into the Cydonian Colony of Kraven...

Tanks and VTOL Support Craft, as well as the new VTOL Gunship were being sent in a later Convoy, the Tanks and Vehicles needed to support the ground assault were being brought in the Second convoy that would arrive later in the week...

But still these seemingly Harmless civilian Oil Tankers, cruised through the choppy seas with ease, their hulls carving through the waves with grim determination...

Their Captains keeping the vessels on course, ensuring that the Cargo reached its destination, lest the Reichmarshal on board take offense and kill every crew man on board, then continue with the mission himself...

The Engines below thumped away, vast Turbines powered the vessel, its huge Props underneath the water, churned away, pushing the vessel onwards without care or consideration...

Outside the Wind blew with a fierce, uncontrolled raging force, battering against the Command Tower of the Tankers, each one protected from the elements by an inch of double glazed glass... each cabin warmed through protecting the crewmen from the elements...

Inside the Hold, The Liquid Storage space had been replaced with level upon level of Bunk Beds, each one, had a Centurian sat on the edge of the bed, each on in the exact same position, each on with their hands on their knees, in a clenched fist, each one staring forward, not one spoke, not one moved...

Thier Uniforms hung in closets, and their gasmasks stored away in secure stowage... their rifles were clipped to the end of the bed...

A Reichmarshal Strode down the Isle..

"Battalion!..."The Reichmarshal Bellowed....

"Weapons Check!" He Continued..

The Sound was amazing, each Trooper Rose to his feet with frightening precision, each one of their black jackboots placed firmly onto the metal floor, so that each sound was perfect, sounding like one person stand up....

Each trooper reached for his rifle, each at the same time, each trooper then sat back down, each drill for doing so perfectly time, so that this floor of a 100,000 Soldiers each did so in unision, not one out of time...

Again in perfect sycronisation, each trooper pulled open the breach and began to go through the weapons, check, each one was perfect, each drill and everyones timing was perfect....

Efficient...

Kraven....

Beautifull...

The first of the massive tankers pulled up into the Docks, they were manovered into position by several tug boats, as the Craft slowly approached, things were prepared..

It was the middle of the night, but the entire complex was illuminated with huge flood lights, covering the place in an un-natural light...

Kriegsmarines brought up large army trucks, as the entire dock yard was alive with activity, people too'ing and fro'ing, picking up boxes, Reichmarshals stood at the dock side, bellowing orders to Kreigsmarines, as the tanker was slowly brought into postion...

On the Distant horizon, a thunderstorm began to echo across the rolling waves, silohetting the multitude of Tankers that were moving into show, as lightening arched across the sky, striking some distant patch of water, or some distant tree...

The Operation continued undaunted as the very heavens opened up...

A Black Staff car pulled up, and instantly two Kriegsmarines rushed to the Car door to open it, Oberst Stadt Furher Kredenko, the Commander for the Colony, he strode over to where a group of Reichmarshals were stood, pulling his leather trench coat over his shoulders as the rain got steadily heavier...

"Gentlemen... How is the Operation Progressing" The Oberst Stadt Furher spoke, while saluting, the Reichmarshals saluted back, while the Furher may have been in Command of the Colony, Reichmarshals are always considered one rank higher...

"The First of the Tankers are being moored to the docks, we should have half a battalion on shore, in about 2 hours...."

"Thats good, What about Armoured support..." The Furher questioned, glancing out to sea

"The Second Convoy is still a week away, however we don't want to arouse too much interest in whats going on..."

"Agreed, well, We can only hope that the Operation is completed" The Furher spoke, before turning to look at the Kriegsmarines working the Dock... "Before people get suspicious"

A booming thunderclap sounded in the distance, sending Prince Anufu jolting out of his massive bed, his dark-skinned face smothered in a torrent of sweat. Panting heavily the 14-year-old boy fell to his knees and began to cry softly, a lonesome sight in the shadowy darkness of the royal sleeping chambers. The images were disturbing, horrifying even. A thousand red-eyed soldiers, clad in heavy black armor and eery gas masks marched through the dense Ttamboan jungles, hacking away at the thick vines and palm trees with curved swords. Children's bloodcurdling screams sounded through the cloudy sky as machine gun fire followed closely; the bodies of men and women alike were strewn throughout every street of every city, blood painting the walls of the sandstone buildings and pueblos like paint on an artist's canvas.

The prince laid on the carpeted floor for at least an hour, the tears of his sorrow nearly as strong as the storm raging outside the royal palace. His frail, tan body heaved with fear, his big blue eyes stained with the images of death. Than suddenly the darkness was repelled with the appearance of four palace guards, armed with machine guns and flashlights. Majordomo Moises Khar pushed his way through the entrance of the sleeping chambers until he found himself before the prince. Quickly he neeled to console him.

"Your majesty, what ails you in the dead of the dark on this most horrid and dreadful night? Have you been injured? Assaulted? My young prince, speak so we may hear! So we may aid you in your peril!"

The grim concern of the majordomo was somehow soothing to the prince's tiny ears, and with a resilient sniffle he sat up with his knees bunched up to his chest, a pathetic sight in just a pair of white boxers. The majordomo quickly signaled for the guards, who picked Anufu up by his arms and clothed him in his sky blue sleeping robe. It was than the young Anufu spoke, his high voice wavery with an unnatural fear.

"A bad dream Usaka. Just a bad dream."

Khar nodded and signaled once more, this time for the guards to leave them. As they did the majordomo steadily made his way around the room lighting the lamps so they could see. Although the palace was powered with electricity, as was the entire city of Pudankah, the palace was hundreds of years old and its oil-lit lamps were a sort of gateway to the past. Plus the prince was fond of ancient technology.

An uneasy silence swallowed the room whole, only penetrated by the tiny hiss of the lamps coming to life. After a couple of minutes of quiet, Anufu picked himself up off the ground and made his way over to a massive bookshelf, the centerpiece being a wide-screen television set. He turned it on and returned to the edge of his bed, his interest now absorbed in old Looney Tunes cartoons. Perhaps the escapades of Daffy Duck and Bugs Bunny would calm the shambled nerves of the Ttamboan royalty.

For a moment the majordomo ceased in his lighting and watched the young prince curiously. For a Ttamboan prince, Anufu was unimaginably weak, weighing well under 100 lbs. and prone to periods of crying. However, there was something special about those deep blue eyes and that narrow face that the majordomo couldn't quite put his finger on. Slowly striding over to where the prince was sitting, Usaka gently patted the bald head of the prince with an understanding affection. Even though Anufu might never measure up to the Ttamboan kings of old, he was still just a boy and deserved a degree of sympathy. Anufu only smiled, choosing rather to keep his focus on the cartoons before him than the athletically-built majordomo standing beside him.

"The soldiers with the blood-red eyes again?"

The normally strong voice of the majordomo was unusually soft this stormy midnight, as were the features of his round face. His dimples were apparent with the appearance of a sad smile, and his squinty green eyes softened as Anufu turned to address him. The scene was certainly a strange one; on one side was the barely clothed Anufu, his face fresh from an hour of crying. And on the other was the tall and muscular Khar, garbed in his own sleeping robes of deep purple and a black braided topknot that extended down his back. Anufu sighed and paused as if he was mulling over the question. Than slowly but surely he nodded his head.

"It was never this bad though, Usaka. Before now they were far away, on rocking boats in raging waters. I saw them on our land tonight, Usaka, carving up our people, leaving death and destruction in their wake."

Khar frowned deeply and his brow furrowed in concern. His reply was standard, and Anufu had seen it coming before it had even been uttered.

"It was only a dream, my young prince."

The prince's answer was hardly one of comfort and security.

"I hope so."

The Ramps were lowered into place against the side of massive Doors that had been constructed into the side of the tanker, from there Centurians poured down from the vast gaping holes, Reichmarshals stood pointing and ordering Kreigsmarines around, the stood directing lines of Centurians...

The Rain hammered down onto concrete of the docks, as Black Jackboots crashed down into puddles, each one a perfectly timed foot fall...

Tug Boats began manovering another Tanker into position, and over the course of an hour, they prepared the Docks to accept the second part of the Battalion, the various Kreigsmarines around the Dock, were on guard, patrolling slowly across the dock face, while others manned large 120mm Flak Cannons and other gun emplacements...

Since the First Battalion had arrived, the Dock had undergone a major transformation, from looking like an ordinary Civilian Commercial docks, it had been changed into a Military Installation, Kreigsmarines occupied Guard towers that had been constructed by engineers, while others manned Road Blocks, Machine gun nests were strategically placed around the complex, and large black six wheeler army trucks drove too and fro carting ammunition, shells and other various peices of equipment, while others were parked, their tail gates lowered to allow the Centurians to board, each one placed a boot on the step, before lifting themselves into the back of the truck...

Every Trooper worked in perfect harmony, each one moved with drilled precision, each one was a master of his own movements, each one had perfect disipline...

Within half an hour Several of the Trucks pulled away from the Docks, their massive engines powering them through the water pooling on the docks, and then the mud forming on the roads...

Lighting flashed, across the sky, turning normaly friendly buildings, into hidious monsters... but now, not only the silouheted images caused them to be monsters... The Kraven Flags that now flew from each and every building perverted them even further...

The War Machine was turning once more...

The lightning shook the very air outside of the Amazonian Imperial Palace, the Emperor gazing out into the pouring rain. Thunder clapped hard, reverberations felt through the building's steel girders and shaking the interior. Emperor Droma walked away from the window and sat down at his desk, still simply pearing outside into the chaotic night. His foreign affairs Minister, Drew Henson, stood quietly to his left, wondering what was on the Emperor's mind.

"Is something troubling you, my Lord?"
"Tonight is not a good night, Minister...something is about."
"About? In what way?"
"Evil reigns its ugly head...not the evil that is so common these days, but one which touches the foundation of all men."
"But nothing has come in through our reports or intelligence, sire."
"Can you not feel it? Something is out of place, one who has been dormant looks to strike again...I can not precisely place it, but something shall be the case of this stormy evening."

Another lightening strike blasted outside of the palace, the thunder impacting a fraction of a second later. The Emperor showed no emotion, merely staring, still, out of the rain-soaked wall-sized window. Amazonia Central spread out before that window, the lights of millions shining from the city center. Millions of beings, not one who mattered much to the Emperor's eyes. Yet something had him tonight, something in the unknown...and the unknown was the only thing the iron-fisted ruler feared.

"We are not safe on this night...we are safe here, yes, but we are not safe from that which we can not see...something wicked this way comes, something strides upon the souls of men."
"You feel this sense of dread, my Lord?"
"It is more than dread. Power eminates...but enough. Soon the consequences of tonight will enter the world."

Thunder Hammered the air once again, as the rain continued to pour down, it was twighlight, early morning, in the distance the sun was begining to break over the horizon, as the massive black army trucks ploughed their way through the muddy roads of Cydonia...

The Forest was begining to wake, birds stretching their wings and breaking out into birdsong, only to be cut short and drowned out by huge twin turbo V8 engines, that poured thick noxious fumes from their verticle stacks....

Inside were Centurians, 25 in each Truck, each soldier sat with the rifle butt placed on the floor of the truck..

The Driver gunned the throttle harder, pushing the immense vehicle faster through the driving rain, its engine roaring in protest...

Several miles up the road they came up to an area known as the Border, it was the Border between Cydonia and Ttambo...

Since Cydonia had secretly revealed itself to be a Kraven Strong hold, the Engineers had been to work, reinforcing the Kraven line, Tank traps, Trenches and Machine gun nests had been set up, Command bunkers wormed their way through hill sides...

Artillery Emplacements were being constructed, but actualy lacking the peices themselves, it became an elaborate bunker...

Soon however, the Centurians had disembarked from the trucks and now began to filter into the trenches and bunkers, taking up machine gun positions, and manning gun emplacements....

The Mobilisation was well under way....

Whyatican Irathria
In the Kriegsmarine Oberkommand building, reports poured in about their masters returning. The Whyatican Command Relay, erected after the fall of Kraven and the rise of Slovenia, was broadcasting orders like crazy. The first of which, and a somewhat logistically difficult one, was to ship over 150 armoured vehicles to the area codenamed Cydonia. Reichsmarshals working at Irathrian tank factories ordered double production, as once the real identity of Whyatica was unveiled, Whyatican Irathria was deemed as a possible target for invasion.

The first, and easiest plan was to refit a civilian liner to hold armoured vehicles and ship the light armour to Cydonia as is in running condition. However, the heaviest Kraven armour, the Emperor and Imperator classes, had to be shipped in as parts as the factories did not assemble them on-site.

At an Irathrian dock, hundreds of slave drivers pulled a light Diablo tank through the boarding ramp of their refitted civilian liner. One slave stepped on a wet spot, slipped, smashed his head on the front of the tank, and fell off the boarding ramp into the cold ocean. The Kriegsmarine supervising them yelled, "Work faster or you'll end up like him!" and pointed down at the flailing, drowning slave.

The slaves collectively gulped and measured how long they could individually survive swimming on their own..

After a grueling 14 hours of work, the full tank load was pulled onto the refitted liner. 29 slaves died in the process, as either Kriegsmarines shot them or they jumped off the docks in a half-hearted suicide attempt.

Four Torment class submarines eased up around the liner as escorts, and they went on full silenced mode, escorting the liner against any attempted sabotage. They embarked, a 18 hour journey to the new Kraven lands..

[Bump. A reply coming tomorrow.]