NationStates Jolt Archive

(OOC: This is the start of a civil war in Atruria, which may or may not turn it into a socialist state, depending on the outcome, it is open for all to join, especially Yallak and Aquetio, who both have a military presence in Atruria, I believe)

MCA Party Headquarters,
Durenhall, Durenheim,
Atruria

Patrick Tress stood tall on the balconies of his personal office, staring into the setting sun. He nodded with approval after his lieutenant had filled him in on the current situation of the Marxist Coalition of Atruria. Its third leader in the past two months, John Martin had been assassinated, a task sponsored by Tress, who was the Coalition’s deputy chairman. Each of these leaders had been assassinated under Tress’s orders, and with each assassination, he had moved up a rank in the party hierarchy. Finally, with this last killing, he had become the party’s new chairman. He smiled forlornly to himself. He hadn’t wanted to murder these men, they were his fraternal socialist brothers, but he’d had to. They believed in the Revolution, they were just too yellow-bellied to carry it out.

“You’ve done well,” Patrick spoke, turning to his young deputy, “Your work shall be rewarded.”
“Comrade Chairman,” Replied the assassin, “My only wish is to see the Revolution carried out and the People free of the despicable bourgeois.”
“It shall be as you say,” nodded Patrick Tress, “Though you will be rewarded nonetheless,”
“Serving alongside you is reward enough,” returned the deputy, hoping to score points with his superior. He did, he noticed the smile, not very well hidden, on the new Chairman’s face. “Comrade, you are dismissed,” said the Chairman, with a wave of his hand. His lieutenant nodded graciously and began to depart. “One more thing, Comrade,”
“Yes Comrade Chairman?”

Patrick grinned wickedly, “Raise the Revolutionary Guard. Do it discreetly, but quickly.” His deputy nodded once more before leaving the room. The lieutenant had understood what his Chairman had meant, the Guard, or the Marxist Revolutionary Guard, was the communist militia of Atruria, membership which had recently been made illegal. It was quite strong in numbers, double the size of the Royal Army. However, in terms of preparation, the Yallakian training and the weaponry that the government’s armed forces received was much superior to that of the members of the MRG.

Patrick spent several more minutes staring into the deep blue color that had replaced the falling, orange Sun. he then walked back into his own office and stared down at his desk, reviewing the plan in his head and examining the paper on his desk, a map of Duren Palace, the residence of the High King and the royal family. This map, however, wasn’t just a normal one that you could find at tourist locations. It was a special one that had been obtained, overseas in fact, for an extremely high price. It was a map that not only showed the normal areas of the Palace, but the secret chambers and underground bunkers that were known to only a handful of royals, government officials, and guards…

2 Days Later
Royal Palace
Durenhall, Durenheim,
Atruria

“Your Majesty!” shrieked Tiberias Kustennin, Minister of Defense for the High Kingdom, barging into High King Charles Lothar’s private chambers. “We have trouble!” he continued. Looking up from the legislation he was reading, placed on his antique 16th century desk, and staring at his minister in a confused fashion. “What, Tiberias, is so important?” Lothar inquired, wonderingly. “The MRG, Sire,” responded Kustennin, now slightly more relaxed than several seconds ago, “They’ve been levied.”
“Say what? The MRG’ve been disbanded for over six months now, besides, how could they have been reformed?” came the High King’s reply.
“Well, sire, it’s this new chairman, Patrick Tress.” came Tiberias’s reply, “He seems to have taken a more militant stance than the last few MCA party leaders.”
“Okay,” nodded the King, “He formed the militia, its never actually seen combat, or even a skirmish before. He’s not really going to do anything with it, right?”
“Sire, the MRG is now an illegal organization, he knows what he’s doing by restoring it. I, for one, think he’s ready to face the consequences,” the Defense Minister remarked solemnly. “Fair enough, put all regiments on alert. Order the troops to prepare for wartime mobilization,” was the assent that came from the Atrurian sovereign.

Atruria
A park, Durenheim

A middle aged man sat on a park bench, reading a broadsheet newspaper with his briefcase sat on the ground next to him. In it was a small knife for personal protection, some underwear and a business suit. That was all he needed - he moved from hotel to hotel all over Atruria, as a businessman from Freedom Country, a country that had disbanded years ago.

He wore a concerned look on his face behind his designer glasses. On the front page was a large picture of a man in a business suit leaving a building. This man was the Chairman of the MCA Party....well, the ex-chairman. He had been assinated.

Along with the story of the assasination, there was an article on the Parties new leader, Patrick Tress. He was a fairly militant leader, it said here, and the growing strength of the MCA Party and its more militant campaign made him slightly nervous.

Could this be the rising of another socialist state? He hoped so, and if that was the case, Galashiels would definately have something to do with it. He put down the newspaper and took out his PDA, before sending a detialed message to his superiors. He would be keeping an eye on this.

OOC:

Anything happening with this RP?

Once you get it going proper more'll join.

OOC: Yeah, I'm not really finding much spare time in my life right now, so I haven't had the chance to get on NS much, but you can be sure that there'll be at least one more post sometime soon.

OOC: This is basically a TAG.

The afternoon light that filled the small room that served as the 4th legions headquarters in Atruria was quickly fading. Captain Lathain lent across his desk, which was covered from end to end in folders and sheets of paper, and with a click, flipped on his office lamp. He was about to return to his work when except a sharp knock at the door interrupted him. Just what I need?

‘Enter,’ he called out, dropping his pen onto the desk.

The door opened and Lathain’s Lieutenant entered, saluting briefly before walking up to his CO. Clearly visible next to his black uniform was a folded paper his left hand.

‘Captain,’ he began, unfolding the paper and placing it down on Lathain’s desk, ‘I think you should see this.’

Lathain didn’t even need to move or pick up the paper; its front-page headline was self explanatory – another assassination. Well, I was hoping for something else to do apart from these damn requisition forms, he thought, getting up out of his seat.

‘Put in a call to the Royal Palace and find out what’s going on and then meet me in the briefing room.’

‘Consider it done, Captain.’

Patrick Tress, Chairman of the Marxist Coalition of Atruria, was slumped against the cushions on his sofa, in the living-room of his luxurious mansion. The fact that he was a communist leader made his residence in this oversized house somewhat paradoxical, though this did not once cross his mind. He was staring at the television, remote in hand, flicking through the various channels. He stopped, momentarily, at a news channel.

And in other news, began the female news anchor, unconfirmed reports are coming from senior officials within the Defense Ministry that the Marxist Revolutionary Guard, the communist militia and terrorist organization, disbanded only several months ago, has been re-established. The Royal Army has, apparently, been put on alert, and is, supposedly, preparing to take action against the MRG. One anonymous member of the Defense Ministry said, quote....

Tress straightened immediately, his eyes practically popped out of their sockets at that moment. He reached into his pocket and fished around for his mobile phone. Finding it, he dialed a very unregistered number and pulled the phone to his ear. It rang several times before a husky, deep voice picked up. "Yes, Comrade Chairman?" came the voice.
"Comrade General! What the Hell is going on?" the MCA's leader screamed furiously.
"Excuse me, what seems to be the problem?" questioned the MRG's commanding officer.
"I ordered the MRG to be reactivated quietly and discreetly! This is all over the news, how could you let this happen?" roared Patrick Tress.
"Comrade Chairman," said the MRG General, trying to calm Tress down, "I can assure you that there were no leaks on our side, though I shall look further into it."
"You do that, but right now I need you to commence Operation Redcastle immediately," Tress snapped rudely, "Are your forces prepared?"
"Yes Sir, all required units has been assembled in Durenhall,"
"Good." Nodded Tress, as he pulled the phone away from his ear and killed the line.

OOC: Please note, when I use words such as fusil, carbine, and musket in unit names I am actually referring to modern-day infantry and not renaissance-age rifles, these are ceremonial titles.

Royal Palace
Durenhall, Durenheim,
Atruria

It was around noon and Lieutenant General William Aerios stood inside his unit's barracks, surveying the men over which he held command. Aerios was the commanding officer of the Royal Guard Brigade, the elite unit of the Royal Army, whose mission was to defend the High King and the Royal Family, at all costs. This Brigade, being the only permanent formation in the army larger than a regiment, consisted of several of it's own regiments. These were the Royal Life Guard Infantry, the King’s Own Fusil Guards, three Royal Swiss Guard regiments, the King’s Musketeer Guard, and the King’s Cavalry Guard. As Aerios viewed his soldiers in training, he thought back to the time when his unit had only numbered around 200 Guardsmen strong and he had only been a captain. He smiled with pleasure, remembering how he had formed this unit and nurtured it, until it had become a formidable fighting force. "General," nodded the Colonel of the 2nd Royal Swiss Guard Regiment, walking towards him, "It seems we may have a problem," he spoke, in a calm and stoic manner, with his thick Swiss-German accent, though it was obvious that something was troubling him.

"What is it?" enquired Lt. Gen. Aerios.
"One of my captains reported to me that, while on duty in the southwestern sector, he spotted a broken door in the maintenance entrance area. At first," continued the Swiss mercenary, "I thought nothing of it, I just had him call for a maintenance team to fix it. Then, another captain ran one of his lieutenants over to me to report that he had discovered discarded Fusil Guard uniforms over in the northwestern sector. Finally, another of my officers reported to me, and this is the worst of all. He and his men were guarding one of the secret underground passageways out of the Palace. When he got there, for the change of guard, the Fusil Guards who he was supposed to exchange places with were not present."
"Are you telling me, Colonel, that we are being invaded and have done nothing about it?" asked Aerios, shocked.

"Ja! Herr General, I believe this is what is happening."
"Okay," said Aerios, retrieving his radio from the table next to where he was standing and switching the channel in order to communicate with the King's Musketeer Guard. Speaking into it, he said "Colonel, there are hostiles on the Palace grounds, repeat, hostiles on the Palace grounds. This is not a drill, prepare for battle immediately. Do not attempt to make contact with the Fusil Guards, they have been compromised. Once more, this is not a drill." Aerios repeated this message to the commanding officers of the 1st and 3rd Royal Swiss Guard, the Royal Life Guard Infantry, and the King’s Cavalry Guard. Then, he turned to the CO of the 2nd Royal Swiss and said to him "You know what to do, prepare your regiment. I'll take two of your patrols with me and get to the High King."

"Your Majesty," General Aerios barged into the royal antechamber in which the High King was idly standing around, two fully-armed patrols of Royal Swiss Guard, geared to fight, behind him. "Why, William, do people keep on intruding upon me like this?" Questioned Atruria's monarch.
"My apologies, Sire. Right now, however, we've got something more important to worry about. We've been infiltrated, 'majesty. You'll need to come with us."
"Huh? What? Well what about Constantina and Dominique? Are they safe?" demanded Lothar, nervously.
" 'Majesty, I've dispatched four patrols to guard each of them and bring them in through the underground passageways. In fact, if it makes you feel better, I'll check on them right now," proclaimed William Aerios, holding his radio to his mouth. "This is Two-Star to Boxwood, over," he said, using code names in order to contact the Queen-Consort's guard. He waited several seconds for a reply, before he repeated, "Two-Star to Boxwood, Boxwood come in, over." Still no reply, the General commenced to make contact with the Crown Princess's guards, "Two-Star to Gamma, come in Gamma, over," after several seconds of a wait, he received an ominous reply.

"This is Gamma One, Gamma to Two-Star, over,"
"Gamma confirmed, over."
"We need backup immediately. We are situated in the Arthur VI Dining Hall. Estimate 120 hostiles, 10 down. Badly armed, badly trained; but they outnumber us, at least one to four. Repeat, request immediate backup."
"Five more patrols, en route," replied General Aerios, motioning to several of his NCOs as he did so, "What's your status now?"
"Dammit, we're only down to around twenty now. We're circled around the Princess, there's no way they can get to her... Oh Shit! they got her, they just shot the Princess in the head, she's done for,"
"Holy Shit," was all Aerios's mouth could handle.

After a couple minutes' pause, "General, my unit, or it's remains, is now engaging the enemy. It was an honor to serve under you, Sir,"
"The honor was all mine, Lieutenant," came Aerios's gruff voice, staring proudly into space as these fine young men went off to their deaths. His gaze drifted toward the High King's face, which was pale with shock and anger.
"Sire," spoke Aerios directly, "you need to come with us now,"
"What the fuck? They just killed my daughter and wife, I'm supposed to run away? No way in Hell that's happening. I'm still the Captain-General of this Army. General, hand me your radio. That's an order as your monarch and your commanding officer!"

That Day, 4 Hours Later
Patrick Tress, chairman of the Marxist Coalition of Atruria, pulled up to the front gate of Royal Palace in a sleek limousine. He stepped out, dressed in a normal three-piece business suit, wearing overly large sun-glasses, his thick black hair gelled completely black; he was followed by an aide, dressed in exactly the same apparel. Two paramilitaries came running out to greet him, wearing brushwood-type camouflage battle-dress uniforms. "Comrade Chairman," the older, and obviously more senior of the two, spoke roughly.
"Comrade General," replied Tress, "I assume you've secured the Palace,"
"Yes, Comrade Chairman. However, there is one slight little problem, that may require some modification to the plan."
"And that is?" came the impatient inquiry.
"Well, the High King, comrade. I realize that you wanted him alive, but, as you know, he is a soldier. He fought to the death, leading his men from the front and not the back..." the communist general trailed off.
"If I didn't know any better," replied Tress "I'd say you were admiring him. I guess we'll just have to make the broadcast without Lothar. Nobody outside the Palace needs to know that he's dead, we can still make our demands. Is everything prepared for the broadcast?"
"Yes, Comrade. Right this way," said the General as he lead the Chairman and his aide through the Royal Gardens, into the Royal Palace and a certain room.

Crown Prince Thomas Lothar tromped through the bustling crowds of Courrone, the capital city of the Holy Empire of Streleheim. Courrone was a beautiful city, a center of culture and learning, bursting with flavorful art and architecture. However, this was not Thomas's first choice of residence. He would rather be living back home, in Atruria. He could have been as well, except for one thing. He had been sent into exile by his father. Thomas had never completely understood why, they had both been good men, morally; both gotten along for so many years; and Thomas, at 34, had spent almost half of his life in his father's own military. He knew, however, that his father had been coerced into it by the Royal Parliament. He knew that the MPs viewed him as too liberal on values and too much of a fanatic on environmental issues. Thomas wandered through the streets for a few more minutes, passing several shops and restaurants. Finally, he spotted The Golden Falcon, a Strellic pub where he was known as a regular. He stumbled in, through the double doors, and bellied up to the bar, so to speak, pulling up a stool. Nodding to him, the barkeeper said

"Hi, Tom,"
"Hey, Rudi," the Crown Prince returned the greeting.
"What'll it be today, the regular?" questioned the Strellic barkeep.
"Nah! I need something lighter. What've ya got from Atruria?"
"Mmm," Rupolf thought, "Red Lion, on draft, sound okay?"
"Sure," nodded Tom, lazily, as he glanced at the rugby game taking place on the wide-screen television behind the bar. Current score, Courrone Cordons: 12, Vincennia Penguins: 7, with half a game still to go. Suddenly, the screen went blue, with black scrolling text that read "NEWSFLASH," and a monotone, computer-esque voice drawled "We Interrupt this Program to Bring Your A Special Update."

The camera zoomed down into a news studio, where a middle-aged, pale-skinned man in a business suit and a plain maroon tie sat behind a desk. Staring into the camera, he said "Hello, and welcome to this SBN special newsflash, I'm Gaerhardt Wolpher. It has been reported that, only several hours ago, communistic terrorists of the Marxist Revolutionary Guard seized the Royal Palace of Dure, in the High Kingdom of Atruria. They have also captured the High King, the Queen-Consort, and the Crown Princess." At this point, Thomas's expression changed, looking as if he had just received a heavy blow to the stomach. "Just a few minutes ago, we acquired this broadcast, made by the terrorists"

The scene on the television changed to the Royal Throne Room, a place very familiar to Thomas. A man who Thomas recognized as the leader of the Marxist Coalition of Atruria stepped into view, behind a makeshift podium. He spoke unoriginal words of communist rhetoric. "People of Atruria! Brothers and sisters, now is our time from the deliverance from the rule of the tyrannical High King and his disgusting brood; now is the time of our freedom from the bourgeois class and from class distinction! Now is the age of communism! First, however, a few minor things need to happen. The Royal Parliament will need too disband, to be replaced by the People's Democratic Dictatorship. The peers, nobles, and knights of the High Kingdom must surrender their titles. And, finally, the current Royal Military must be disbanded. If all of these things do not occur within the next 36 hours, remember, we have the Royal Family. We will start to kill them off, one by one." The screen went blank for a minute, then was replaced by the reporter, Gaerhardt Wolpher. However, Thomas didn't stay to watch. He burst out of the pub and ran to his home, only two blocks away, as though he was being chased by a leopard. Upon reaching the modest house, he fumbled around with his keys for a few minutes before finding the right one, then stuck it into his door's keyhole, turning it and opening the door, and ran upstairs, grabbing his passport and wallet. Half an hour later, the Crown Prince was on a commercial flight (Streleheim's Aero-Imperial) from Streleheim to Atruria.

Fourteen hours later, after disembarking from the plane, and landing at King Edward International Airport, Thomas plopped over to the first newsstand he could find in the airport. He took several papers out of their brass, holding rack and viewed the headlines. Royal Family Captured; Communists Desecrate Vincennia, Marxist Guards Take Hostages in Crecy; Terrorists Bomb Ayrford Castle! Thomas nodded in amazement, the communists were performing sick and cruel operations like this all over Atruria. He knew he had to do something to restore the peace and equity of his father's rule. It was at this point that he remembered that, despite being banished, he still held the rank of Major-General in the Royal Army and was the honorary Colonel-in-Chief of the Crown Prince’s Cuirassiers, the Crown Prince’s Dragoons, the Crown Prince’s Cavalry Rangers, the Crown Prince’s Hussars, and several Crecian infantry regiments. He knew, from that point, that his command over these regiments would not just be honorary anymore.

4th Legion Briefing Room
Atruria

About a dozen officers now waited in the briefing room, a low murmur emanating from the several conversations taking place. Captain Lathain sat patiently in his chair at the front of the room, preparing for the start of the meeting. Off to the side Lieutenant Kaeso entered, quickly moving over to his Captain.

‘Are you ready Lieutenant?’ Lathain asked as he stood up.

Kaeso nodded, swapping placing with the Captain to sit down behind the small table. Shifting the position of the laptop computer before him to a more easily viewable angle, the Lieutenant inserted a silver disk into the CD drive. After a few seconds of clicking, the digital projector mounted to the roof of the briefing room whirred to life displaying an image of the street plans of the Atrurian capital. The gathered officers fell silent as the picture appeared and hurriedly took to their seats.

‘Yesterday afternoon,’ began Lathain almost instantly, starting the briefing even as the last people found their seats, ‘the Atrurian papers reported on yet another assassination. The Atrurian palace could tell us little of the killings but informed us that the new chairman of the Marxist coalition has reactivated the MRG. This of course would not concern us save for the fact that since the rumors of a terrorist takeover began we have received no response from the Royal palace.’

Lathain paused momentarily, as the gathered personnel exchanged muttered comments. ‘Now although we don’t really know what is happening, we will need to find out,’ continued the Captain, moving across the room to be closer to the display on the front wall. ‘The 12th platoon led by Lieutenant Kaeso will move to the outskirts of the city here,’ he said pointing at the display. ‘We don’t want to add any additional concerns to the current situation so from this point, only a single section will enter the city and make their way to the palace. During the operation, the 10th platoon will be on standby but remain at the base. Any questions…good, then you’ve got half an hour to have your units geared up and waiting in the vehicle bay.’

Leaving King Edward International Airport, Thomas stepped onto the street and hailed down one of Atruria's signature blue taxi cabs, wondering what other people were doing out on the streets; did it not cross their minds that that there would soon be gunfights between the MRG and the Royal Army? Well, He thought, I guess people still have to put food on the table, even in the midst of a national crisis. As he stepped into the taxi, the prince ordered the taxi driver, "01175, Ostern Avenue, please."
"Yes sir," was the taxi driver's reply as he took off and inputted the location into his car's global satellite positioning system. "Hey, sir. That's the Army Annex, are you sure your headed in that direction?"
"Yup, that would be the place," responded Prince Lothar
"Suit yourself, you're the one payin'," grunted the driver.

20 Minutes Later
Army Annex,
Durenhall, Durenheim, Atruria

The taxi pulled up in front of the Army Annex, the Royal Army's administrative headquarters. Thomas stepped out of the cab, paying the fare and handing a generous tip to the driver. He walked up to the main entrance, and was halted by a squad of soldiers guarding the door. "Identification please," the commanding soldier, a sergeant, by his shoulder straps, requested. Lothar reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and, from it, grabbing his Military Identification Card. He passed it over to the sergeant who read it, then looked back and forth from the card to the prince, with some shock, then recognition. "Welcome back to Atruria, Your Highness," the sergeant and his soldiers saluted, as Thomas Lothar smiled back and entered the building, heading to the office of Commandant-General Thomas Aurelius, commander of the Royal Army.

Vehicle Bay 1, 4th Legion Military Base

The heavy thudding of combat boots echoed around the cavernous vehicle bay as the fully geared Imperial soldiers of the 10th and 12th platoons flooded into the asphalt floored space amongst over thirty armoured vehicles. It had taken only twenty minutes from the briefing for the Yallakian officers to ready their men for the operation, and so close to five hundred soldiers now milled around the bay waiting for further instructions.

Minutes later, the sound of talking and thudding boots was drowned out by the arrival of a convoy of twenty five Darkhorse Infantry Fighting Vehicles, identical to those that occupied the vehicle bay. The units pulled to a halt in a line across the bays entry and once stopped almost simultaneously dropped open their rear ramps. From the lead unit, Lieutenant Kaeso strolled down casually and with a loud whistle, drew the gathered soldiers attention to him.

‘Alright, the operation has been approved - so my platoon will load up in these and Lieutenant Adans and his men will remain in this bay with their vehicles just in case we find out that the rumors of communist terrorists really are true. Move out.’

As he finished speaking, the soldiers of the 12th platoon exited the bay and piled into the idling Darkhorse’s as the others spread out around the bay, making themselves comfortable so they could sit out what they believed would be an eventless day.

Precisely half an hour after the briefing, running perfectly to schedule, and with a large roar of their powerful engines, the IFV column rolled out of the 4th Legions base heading directly for Durenheim and the Atrurian royal palace.

OOC: I'm interested in getting involved in this, so consider this a TAG.

IC: In the Ancient CIty of Kravirez, it's millilon intracately carved monoliths a thousand etched stonwork and steel spires, wrought together in a pattern typically Novan, great figures mounted tiered spires all of them bearing a stern yet inquistive bearing, they stood as Voloko's, Stalwart Guardians of Novan Virtue, the thousand towers, buildings and residences, connected by a network of skyramp mounted monorails, carefully designed to fit in with the austere and ancient air of the city, this city the oldest to ever exist, over 7,000 years old it had stood, many storms and the heart of the ancient rebellion it stood now in the shadow of Novesia, yet in some ways truly it did not.

It was at this most ancient of cities that Yuri had been summoned to, under the near highest authority, perhaps even surpassing the level of the Suprainister, on the merit of this woman was more feared than the man. The Prime of the Black SKull Enforcers stalked through the darkness, the many high vaulted caverns underneath the city, in the gloom lurked great monolithic figures, as if carved from stone itself many millenia ago to act as the final bastion against the Diri E I G Ignen host, yet they glimmered in the darkness, yet it was not these that stole the lion shares of his attention, nay the woman at the end of the chamber occupied his sole thought, she was tall lithe her features and bearing betraying not her advanced years, wearing a long layered tunic, with high shoulders and high collar it wrapped around her as if a second skin, her face shrouded in darkness, much like everything else was turned in his direction, Idly muttering an old adage of the Black SKull Enforcer Corps, that the mind was quicker than the eye, he focused his mind trying to discover the diffuse objects around, and plumb the depths of this austere womans mind, of course it was folly, he knew that the second the woman began to step forward, her feet invisible beneath the hem of the long draping tunic.

"Yuri, you will focus on the task at hand, not headgames."

"Of course Ma'am, and what of the task at hand,"

"Quite Simple, War is comming, a Civil War, The forces of Communism stir once more our once great allies stand again, I want you to investigate, and arrange for aid, covert or overt it matters not, our communist alignment is well documented."

"Would this by any chance by the situation in Arturia, Milady?"

"Indeed Yuri, perceptive as always, I can see why you are held in high regard,"

"But Ma'am, Arturia is alligned with Yallak, an unofficial ally-"

"Everyone is an unofficial Ally of ours, the Suprainister does not consolidate, he moves too slowly in some aspects, his father was worse, this will either way reinforce that to him,"

"But Ma'am surely you arn't going against him on this issue?"

"Of course not he is in Reloria, and I am the ranking superior at present."

"Are you sure about this though, we've worked very closely with them before, they'll know several of our tactics and designs fairly well,"

"which is why if the communists require it we have designs they have no knowledge of, you remember the Ghviral Tank surely and they may have worked with us but like anyone else they do not truly know of us, and should war break out, we have several new tricks up our sleeves,"

Yuri peered once again round the gloom inquistivley at the figures again, while the woman meerly smiled thinly in the darkness.

"You will send someone to Arturia, make contact, now go, heed the call of Destny and forever march forward in the name of The Middle Empire!"

In the office of the Commander of the Army, Commandant-General Thomas Aurelius was standing against his desk, holding a phone to his ear, conversing with Atruria's Director of General Inquiry (DGI), while several of his aides were scurrying busily around, posting on the General's walls: newspaper articles, interdepartmental notes, and intelligence bulletins that were relevant to the virtual terrorist take-over in the High Kingdom. There was a knock at his chamber's large, oak-wood door. Conversing over the phone, Aurelius signalled one of his aides to open the door. The aide turned and quickly did so, as the High Kingdom's Crown Prince walked into the door.

General Aurelius' eyes opened in surprise, as he ended his phone conversation. Hanging up the phone, he nodded at the Prince, "Hello soldier. Welcome back, Major-General Lothar. It's good to see you again." Aurelius said, extending his hand. The Crown Prince clasped General Aurelius' hand and replied, "Yeah, I'm back," looking around, Lothar continued, "Now let's get to work."

Over the next few hours, all regiments of the Royal Army were completely assembled, then mobilized onto the streets. Under the Crown Prince's guidance, Commandant-General Aurelius declared a period of martial law and, through orders of the Crown Prince, all other branches of the armed forces, as well as all other aspects of the government, were now under the jurisdiction of the Commandant-General. Royalist troops marched through streets all over Atruria, nervously, in wake of the obvious gun-battles that lay ahead. Helicopters, and the few jets that Atruria possessed, patrolled the skies for protection. The commanding officers of Atruria's "21st Infantry" Special Services Regiment and the 3rd Royal Commando Regiment, both stationed a short distance outside of Durenheim, were summoned to the Army Annex, to formulate a rescue operation for the royal family that, unbeknownst to them and the rest of Atruria, had already been murdered.

Later that same day, the Crown Prince and Commandant-General viewed a real-time transmission of the attempted rescue operation, on a large plasma screen in the Army Annex's renowned "Situation Room." Three black hawk helicopters could be seen, on screen, with the video transmission coming from a fourth. Each helicopter contained a patrol of eight-to-twelve completely armed and specially-trained troops, who were members of both the Special Services Regiment and the 3rd Royal Commando Regiment. Cutting through the sky, the helicopters grew closer and closer to the Royal Palace. The choppers neared the palace, sustaining no fire whatsoever.

"That's odd," the Commandant-General mused aloud.

"What is?" enquired Prince Lothar, uncertain of what the General was referring to.

"Well... It's just that I would have expected the communists to have tried to fire on our copters by now. I don't mean to sound overly pessimistic, but something's definitely not right here." was the Com-Gen's reply.

The two watched intensely as the black hawks came into place, directly over the Royal Gardens and ropes were cast out of the helicopters. Still nothing. The first of the soldiers slid down the ropes of their respective helicopters, taking stance for battle as they landed. After the last of the troops came down from their copters, and the black hawks departed the area, the four platoons began to move forward.

"Com-Gen," the leader of the group spoke into his radio, as the unit moved. "This is Lieutenant Cragan, Special Services Regiment. There is no sign of the enemy here. We are advancing towards the Main Building."

"Alright Eltee, commence," ordered Aurelius.

The group moved up, gathering on the walls on either side of a back-door. One Royal Commando trooper repeatedly bashed his shot-gun at the hinges of the door, until it crashed to the ground. Troops crowded in through the doorway, walking at a deliberate pace. "Com-Gen, this is Cragan. We've entered the building. Still no sign of hostiles. Thermal readings indicate no living beings nearby."

"Lieutenant," commanded General Aurelius, "Advance to the throne-room.
"Yes, sir."

The unit moved forward, kicking several doors open and searching rooms as they did so. They reached the throne-room and turned a sickly color at the sight of blood, organs, and bodies strewn all over the place. Eventually, one of the RC troopers identified the High King's mutilated face. "Shit, it's him," was the sound over the radio, "the High King's dead." As Cragan was motioned over by several of his subordinates, the bodies of the Queen and Princess were also discovered. This was reported and followed by the uncovering of one of the supposedly "secret" passageways, left open. "Com-Gen, I think the MRGs must of left through this passage, it's still open.

"The bastards," nodded the General, quietly, "they were well outta there before we even began," speaking into his radio, "return to your regiment, Eltee, the commies are gone."

As Aurelius and Lothar were sitting around the situation room, raging at their failed operation and grieving at their losses, an aide entered the room. "Sir," he addressed the Commandant-General, "There's a situation in Acragas. Communist forces have just gained several cities in the provinces, pushing the Acragasian regiments back into Osterland." The Com-Gen nodded and his aide departed.

"Well," Lothar jumped up, "I've got somewhere to be and something to do now. You've gotta stay and command the rest of the forces from here. I'll go take up leadership on the Acragasian front. Just give me my old uniform and regiments."

"Done and done," remarked Aurelius, in compliance. As Lothar headed for the door, Aurelius smiled "Hey, Soldier-boy," Lothar turned around "Pacis et armorum vigiles," Aurelius spoke, repeating the motto of the St. Constantine Regiment, an infantry unit in which both men had served, whose English translation meant Vigilant in peace and in arms. "Pacis et armorum vigiles," nodded Lothar, in solemn agreement, as he turned once more and left the room, headed for the Crown Prince Barracks in Crecy, then the battlefields of Osterland and Acragas.

ooc: Sorry if my posts seemed crappy, it was around 2 am and I was falling asleep, so yeah...

OOC: That’s cool, they’re good enough!

IC: Everything had gone according to plan. The 12th platoon had reached the outskirts of Durenheim, where of the armoured vehicle column, twenty Darkhorse’s had pulled off the road, leaving just five to enter the city limits. Those five, had reached the royal palace and pulled up out the front not much later. After yet another failed attempt to contact someone inside the palace, Lieutenant Kaeso ordered his men out of the Darkhorse’s with authorization to enter the palace.

The entry was perfect. The five squads burst into the palace, clearing room after room as they made directly for the throne room.

The throne room was a bloodbath. Kaeso and a pair of men from his squad slowly entered the room, carefully treading over the piled corpses.

‘No wonder nobody answered the phone,’ said one of the soldiers grimly, prodding at one of the bodies that, by what was left unstained of his uniform, could be identified as defiantly not that of an Atrurian royal soldier. ‘These must be the “rumoured communist terrorists”.

Kaeso didn’t reply, instead he pulled out his communicator and attempted to raise his Captain. After the second try he received an answer.

‘What’s going on, Lieutenant?’ demanded Lathain.

‘Know idea, sir,’ replied Kaeso, ‘I’d ask one of the people we found in the palace but they’re all dead.’

‘Well you need to find out Lieutenant. You need to locate the nearest military or government installation and make contact with, well, anyone who knows anything.’

‘Understood, Captain. Kaeso out.’

NMS Gondawanen, 5 NM outside of Artruian International Waters

Before things start to heat up, I'll take this oppourtunity to say this, The Supraster has gone mad, why on earth is she provoking our Yallak friends like this?

Reece Dau Kenzal, a Great Novan Admiral, glowering at the current situation, he ill cared for being thrust into a position of treachery, yet treachery to the state was something he would have no part of, far better to betray those you didn't know, than those you did, and orders were orders, yet it did not comfort him, at least not very much.

No need to say it Reece, I already know what you were thinking, and I agree, but we must do our duty, as everyone must,

Yuri, the man known simply as that, some knew his full name, many didn't, his trademark was others ignorance, none could withstand his awesome power if and when he chose to unleash it, yet he was an unassuming man, yet he cut an imposing figure, he wore his tunic well, black with a faint swirl of the deepest of purples, it moved as if by an unfelt wind.

Indeed Yuri, but this sort of duty isn't what I expected, but as you say, orders are orders. My only worries that the Yallakians have a better understanding of how we work than most

That is only natural, they did work with us closely during the first Kraven War, but it's irrelevant now, the fruits of the Xharn conflict, the new innovations we have made, and the new designs we have fielded, the Yallakians know nothing about, the only ones remaining, is the Tried and True Hijir, and the Tokon, and even they have been radically upgraded.

Reece swung over with one of his large hands shoving Yuri slightly, before adopting a mocking tone.

Give it over Yuri, you sound like a sales rep from an outsider shopping center.

It is true though, the Supraster has made available to you and your command the latest of everything, now let us prepare for the first act.

Indeed Yuri, I've already sent someone ahead to make contact with the Commies, with things just beginning the rampant confusion aids us and hinders our enemies, we were able to drop him in with little trouble.

Excellent, I must say though, I'm suprised our presence here hasn't been challenged yet.

Yuri tugged at his cuffs for a second, looking down from the gangway at the Soldiers drilling below, in the great cavernous hangars of the mighty ship, the shap sounds echoed throughout the great cavernous expanse like music to his ears, and music it was, the overture of war.

No need to worry Yuri, There were sightings of Zeon forces here not so long ago, we're simply following them up, the Yallakians haven't made any comments yet, and my fleet is moving at enough of a pace for a thorough search, but not too slowly that we won't be able to enter Artrurian waters should the need arise.

I can see why you were decorated after Iathern, and put in charge of the Gondowanen, I have worked with many of our other commanders, yet you are a cut above the rest, I can only think of 1 or 2 others I'd care to place in the same bracket as you, you haven't changed since U.N.I at all

Reece smirked at this, he wore his medals well, the eternally corossed Phoenix Wings, engraved upon the surface of the golden medallion clearer now more than ever, a mark of valour and of prowess, yet it meant little to him, he had done his duty, and he would to it again, a thousand fold more.

Neither have you Yuri, still as subtle as ever,

Indeed,

The two men laughed together as the continued down the gangways, their boots clanking gently on the hard metal surface, below dark shadows of mighty machines stirred.

I will say this though Yuri, I do feel sorry for the Yallakians, they know not what awaits.

Down below lurked dark figures, great war machines, with great vaunted shoulders, yet for items of great power, their size belied their true nature, barely larger than a Hijir, they stood ready, to unleash a hidden suprise, but then what about Novacom was truly known, except that at the constanttly changing nature of Warfare amongst other things, Novacom lead the charge trailblazing with advanced technology and bizzare theories, combined with a powerful national identity made for an innexorable tide, but just when would the tide break, not even the Admiral and his Black Skull Enforcer compatriot knew, like everyone else they could only watch, content in the knowledge that they would be ready to swoop in with an overwhelming advantage, that of the unknown.

Northern Artruria

Well that was certainly a rough landing Bernie thought as he wiped off his shoulders, carefully stowing his parachute in his pack before slinging it over his shoulder, he has been infomred that the commies had a presence in the area, it had been thought best to drop in away from the main cities, in the north, and link up with the commies, to offer them assisstance, they had been contacted, but whether they would show up for a rendevous was another issue.

Province of Acragas, Northern Atruria

Captain Paul Vern and his 24-man crew, of the Dawn Brigade, sat down to break from their mission. Vern had been leading his 24-man cell through a routine patrol. The Dawn Brigade, based in Atruria's northern province of Acragas, was one of the four main branches of the Marxist Revolutionary Guard. The marxist cause was supported immensely by the populace this province and, in the last seventy-two hours, the reactivated Dawn Brigade had easily grasped control of the province from the fingers of the Royal Army's Acragan regiments. In fact, the majority of Acragas' Royal Army units had ended up surrendering command immediately and defecting.

The only real resistance to the MRG in Acragas occurred in the south of the province. Sure, there was the occasional grey-haired fossil who owned a hunting rifle and would have been a member of the Royal Army in decades passed; or there would be a small group of untrained, politically active, violent university students; though these were of no actual consequence. Upon reflection, Vern found it quite odd that everyone had been so ready to retake their positions in the MRG and that they could function so well in such a short time.

"Comrade Captain, look!" cried one of Vern's men,

"What is it, Corky?" Captain Vern questioned, calling that man by his nickname, as he did will all of the troops under his command.

"Up in the sky, see it?" came the inquisitorial reply of 'Corky.'

"Hmm, that's strange. It looks like a parachute," nodded Vern in wonder. Suddenly, in alarm, he said "Shit! I hope Royals haven't started jumping in.... Alright comrades, get up! We're heading towards the direction that the parachute landed. Guns on the ready!"

At this command, all twenty-four of his poorly-armed troops inspected and brandished their weapons, as they stood up. The diverse array of weaponry included AKs, old and outdated Royal Army equipment, and several small handguns.

20 Minutes Later

Captain Vern marched his crew through the deep foliage and intricate terrain of the forest ground, leading them to the glade in which the parachuter had supposedly landed. Looking around for a few seconds, Vern spotted the lone soldier in the clearing. The captain trained his outdated Berreta on the paratrooper, just in case, and offered no greeting. He announced boldly and in his unsophisticated manner, "Who're you?"

Fort Vikedal, Acragas-Osterland Provincial Border
Prince Lothar arrived, riding at the head of several armored cavalry regiments, followed by some mechanized infantry, at the Royal Army's garrison in Vikedal, a fortress on the Acragas-Ostermark border. At least, it was called a fortress, but truly it was not a modern military facility. Fort Vikedal was an old 13th century castle that had been recently repossessed by the now-deceased Monarchy, within the past decade, and converted into a home base for Oster and Acragan regiments of the Royal Army. Dismounting from the vehicle in which he rode, the Prince walked up to the command post, where he was greeted by a fresh, young officer.

"Welcome to Fort Vikedal, Prince Lothar, I presume," greeted the officer, in a tone that obviously marked him as fresh out of the Royal Military Institute at Crecy.

"That's me," nodded the Crown Prince, positively, "And you are?"

"Colonel Evan Vaughn, Commander of the garrison, at your service," the officer bowed emphatically,"

"Colonel, eh? Aren't you a bit young for such a rank?" inquired the Prince.

"Well, my liege, I could ask you a similar question about obtaining the rank of Major-General at 32," was the soldier's smart-aleck reply.

"Ehh... after fourteen years of service in elite combat units, like the Royal Marines and the Commandos it's a bit different," responded the Prince nonchalantly, though inwardly he was bursting with laughter at how the young officer was visibly taken aback.

"Anyway," He continued, "Let's see to the defenses of this 'fort'."

Army Annex
Durenheim, Atruria

‘I think is the place, Sir,’ said the driver as he pulled the Darkhorse to a halt outside the building, ‘but the derections we got were a bit iffy.’

‘Well, judging by the number of guards on the door I say it is,’ replied Lieutenant Kaeso, getting up out of his seat and moving into the back.

The ramp hit the ground with a resounding metallic clank, after which Kaeso exited quickly, taking one of his men with him and order the rest to remain put. The two men headed up to the entrance of the building, eager to finally find out just what was going on.

‘I am Lieutenant Kaeso of the Imperial 4th Legion stationed in Atruria,’ declared Kaeso to the guards as he arrived at the door, ‘I need to speak to your commander.’

The leader of the guards inspected Lieutenant Kaeso, noting by his outfit that he was a soldier of Yallak. Nodding affirmatively, he replied "Okay, you can come into the building. You'll have to leave any weapons behind, though." Motioning to one of his subordinate guards, the soldier said "the corporal here will take you up to General Aurelius."

Corporal Williams saluted Lieutenant Kaeso, declared "Just follow me, sir." He began to lead Kaeso through the large doors of the Annex and continued into an elevator, located conveniently near the entrance. Waiting for the Yallakian soldier, he pressed the button which read 12th Floor. Williams stood silently by the door, as the elevator advanced upwards.

Upon reaching the twelfth floor, Williams lead Kaeso out and through a large corridor, passing several offices, and reached a large door. On the door, a sign read:
Commandant-General Thomas Aurelius
Commander of Operations,
Royal Army
Williams knocked loudly on the door, as a voice from the opposite side of the door spoke. "Come in."

Kaeso nodded his thanks to Corporal Williams, before opening the door into the commander’s office. Ordering the soldier who came with him to remain outside, the Lieutenant entered, closing the door behind him.

‘Commandant-General,’ said the Lieutenant, walking up to his desk and saluting the Atrurian officer, ‘with all due respect, what the hell is going on around here?' While Kaeso was not at all angry or upset, his frustration came across as if he were somewhat annoyed. 'The Royal palace has become a battlefield and we’ve heard more from television broadcasts and newspapers than any official Atrurian organization. What exactly is the current situation?’

Replying to Kaeso, General Aurelius said "Normally, if the High King was incapacitated, the Royal Parliament would take charge. However, as you may've heard, the communist forces have ordered that the Royal Parliament be disbanded. All those bastards in over in the Parliament have shut themselves into their chambers, deciding whether they should disband or not. The useless buggers haven't given a flying rat's ass about anything or anyone else, so for a short while, we have had no government."

Pausing, for a moment, he continued, "It was only several hours ago that Atruria's Crown Prince, who'd been sent into exile by Parliament, returned. As the only living royal, he gave me the authority to declare martial law. It's only recently that we've actually been able to get the troops out and patrol the streets. The Prince's gone now, though, he's leading several regiments towards the Osterland-Acragas border, where there's a large concentration of the enemy."

Bernie finished sweeping off his shoulders and turned to meet this visitor, he had seen him coming a fair while ago, the systems of his helmet alerting him with ease, his face concealed by a helmet, of distinctly Novan design, contradictory yet complementary, the marking displayed 2 faces, a stern wise face, and a comical almost wicked face melded together without for a moment sacrificing function for form. His voice came out in an even filtered tone, while the accent was sharp and clipped, with a subtle undertone of Mystery, typical of a Novan speaking english, "Military Adjutant Bernie Vernsal Military Command Kenzal, I can see that you are one of the Communists, I can tell, please take me to your superiors, I have words for them."

He cut an imposing figure, his long black Tunic parted at the waist covering downwards from there the back of the legs, edged in blood red and with a high collar, it was the Standard Novan military garb, it concealed more than most knew, several layers of armour were woven into the fabric, and there were ample places to conceal equipment, indeed two long near invisible folds at the waist concealed a pair of NMSA-KLG62 SMG´s his precise rank was difficult to make out, the right epaulet bore only a single arrow with 7 Bars running half it´s length, all but one of those bars was bronze, with the final being silver.

The sun was setting, a half orange disc of light descending over the tranquil sea, lit gently in subtly different ways it also lit up the Novan fleet slowly moving closer to Arturia, Tokons flew swiftly in the twilight skies, calling getnly to each other, in the center of it was the Gondawanen the light reflcted slightly off it´s great hull, and Admiral Kenzal looked out over the view from the Balcony of his office, almost mournfully.

Bulklets rained down in a terrifying hail, mad men, seemingly possessed ran amok through the trenches, while soldiers fought against them with equal brutality, the sky, that burning sky so full of hatred was teeming with terrible machines, meting out death and destruction in equal measure, the land itself was scarred by impacts and craters, tortured beyond all mortal comprehension was this place, yet still the war raged, brother fought against brother in a sea of blood and gore more than knee deep, the faces of Comrades crusted in their own pour half submerged in the torrent littered the ground, splintered bone and fetid flesh littered the area profusely, valiantly the commander of the disaster desperatley ralied the call, shreiking his defiance to the Rebel foe, only to be hit square on by a bomb from above, seemingly marked for destruction soley by cruel fate, fathers lost daughters only to come to the battle themselves to seek vengance, often to die on the very land which their children had.

A terrible time, time of great tragedy, yet this was not the end, nay the war had scarcely began, casualties mounted and the losses weighed up. In the end it was a meat grinder, their was no such thing as a victor, only combatants.

"Why do we fight Otto? when everyday we acheive nothing and loose so much? Asked a voice tempered in the fires of one as of yet not used to the harsh reality of war.

"Reece I wish I could tell you, you always were the more diplomatic one, you don´t understand do you? We fight to defend, we fight so that those of tommorow will never have to know this horror, even the world does not know of it, this great terrible conflict rages on unknown to the world, never fight for a medal or an honour, fight for the people and the nation, in the end we will find peace in victory, we must never forget the horrors of this war, even your friend Yuri had to go away because he these horrors weighed down on him too much," the voice trailed off, fired with a tired fervour in his words, yet a face that was equally as tired and haggard as the earlier speaker.

The rain of death and destruction continued as yet more and more gave themselves in service of the nation, a thousand men and women died in less then 10 minutes, yet this was a regular occurance these days, he has never visited Valjsguard before the war, he had heard it was bueatifal, but the only Beauty he saw would be in an eventual death, even his dreams afforded him no rest from the torment, he watched his friends get cut down, he turned the past events over and over in his mind, he realised that the rebels had not only been allowed to attack, they had been aided, he had seen the flaws in his commanders strategies, yet it had been for notghing, for those commanders had died too early to realise their folly, yet his words were gaining notice, like those of his friends, to make a difference, that was his only wish now,

"Remebering old horrors Reece?"

"Yeah, I´m not sure who was more lucky, you or me, but when I remember how much you thrashed when we could even get a moments rest, how that place, those times even, didn´t give you a monets rest, in hindsight I understand now, but still perhaps missing that part of your life, perhaps you should have returned sooner."

"We all had our roles to play, you and the others may only think you made a difference near the end, when you finally had a command of your own, but we all played a part, all through the war, but you didn´t come out here to reminesce did you?

"No Yuri your right, I´m worried that this may end up going even a part of the way as bad as Valjsguard did, a terrible war with no seeming end in sight, the Supraster, she lost her husband to it, but does she truly understand what she could be getting us into?"

Yuri shrugged absent mindedly, before padding forward to lean back against the rail in the last light.

"She knows, She knows Reece, we all do, whats comming, it isn´t a war, nobody else in this world truly knows war like we do, the excuse at Iathern, that was no war, Kraven, Xirnium even Torontia and the nations there don´t know war, the know only a shadow of the reality, not even that."

Reece started laughing at this, "Yuri, Yuri, your beginning to sound like Otto, and I remember when you used to aggravate him for being all philosophical, times change all of us I suppose."

"indeed the do" Yuri chuckled back.

"I came out here to clear my mind, I informed the Arturians that we would be sending a submarine to the borders of their waters, to investigate some wreckage, the Yallakians will know by now as well, they won´t find anything amiss by our fleet, all the preparations are taking place within, I hate to admit this, but I´m glad I changed flags, the Kenzal couldn´t have handled all the needed preparations and keep them secret, but still, this ship is almost too big really."

"the Kenzal was nearing it´s end anyway, it served you well, but it was an old ship, though I thought you would have been honoured to have the first of a new line surely?"

"Yeah I kinda am, but what we´re about to do, and everything we have ready to spring on them when it´s time, it does still make me feel guitly, they don´t even know what we´re gonna be throwing at em, apart from Hijir and Tokons, and their not even the same from back then, they arn´t prepared for Voronzels, Krigalas, Kentzulans, Xorvels or any of the other new designs we´ve got, and especially the tricks you´ve brought with you, that plan you´ve cooked up it´s devious, and yeah it´ll help us, but the sacrifice to make it work, it seems almost wasteful considering they arn´t even that kind of enemy."

"you never change Reece, always the diplomatic one, put your mind at rest, to quote Otto, we fight so none may have to know the horrors of the past, and unless we don´t hold back, this could degenerate into a stalemate like Valjsguard, true it´ll never be that terrible, but could you live with yourself if it went that way, truly?"

"your right Yuri, and I´m grateful your not trying any of your special tricks on me, but I´d appreciate it If I had some time to myself, I still have a lot fo think about."

"of course Admiral, I´ll see you later."

"don´t be like that Yuri, but I´ll see you later"

"Corky," Captain Vern signaled to one of his troopers, "Hand me your walkie-talkie."

The soldier referred to as 'Corky' nodded, pulling out a radio from a pouch on his belt and handing it to his superior. Vern grabbed the radio and spoke into it. "Hello, Dawn Base, this is Captain Vern." Vern waited until receiving a reply, "Yeah, I got a paratrooper here. Says his name's Bernie Vernsal, Military Adjutant. Novan by the looks of him. He wants to see Comrade Commander. What should I do?"

There was silence on the radio for several minutes. Eventually, a crackling affirmative reply came through and Vern nodded. "Alright Mr. Military Adjutant, you get to take a trip to Dawn Base. We're gonna have to blindfold you though," He said as he motioned to another of his guerrillas, who produced a thick black strap of fabric and, gently moving the helmet upwards temporarily, tied it around the Novan soldier's head, covering his eyes. He began to lead the paratrooper towards Dawn Base.

Without Complaint he assissed in poutting the blindfold on, pressing certain inconspicuous spots to lever off the headgear. Bernie padded gently on, he has no aversion to being blindfolded, it gave him something to mull over, he couldn´t see to his sides and behind him with the helmet,he was used tio having a full 360 degrees of vision in the thing, it offered him an interesting challenge to guess where he was going, it was only a personal excercise though, trwachery was far from his mind, the going was fairly easy as well, even with his pack slung over his back, hé was used to conditions like this, basic training was no cake walk, to use an outsider term, smirking inwardly at the thought he continued onwards. I wonder if I´ll end up learning a few more dialect phrases, english may be crude but it´s a humerous thing to know

He resisted the urge to make a report, it wouldn´t do for any errant signals making their way back to the fleet, yet. Novan was gibberish to all outsiders, and the encryption was even worse, but still, he idly reflected, no progress was made by being overly cautious, not was anything worthwhile done by being reckless, noting to himself to make a report later, after he´d accomplished more than being taken to a base he trudged onwards, with an almost graceful ease.

30 Minutes Later

As Captain Vern and several of his irregulars entered into the small village of crudely built shanties, hidden away in the Acragan northern forests. designated 'Dawn Base,' they were greeted by fellow communist guerrillas with low whistles, nods, and salutes. The Base, he recalled as he tromped towards the Commander's hut with his troops and the Novan, had been built before the MRG had first been disbanded. It had been created as a secret barracks, training center, and command post for Dawn Brigade, the main MRG division in this area.

Reaching the wooden shack in which Dawn Brigade's commander resided and administrated, Vern opened the red satin excuse for a door and entered with three troops and the Novan one, taking the ineffective blindfold off of his face and presenting him to the commander, who had been pacing around the room.

"Comrade Commander," spoke Vern, "This is the Novan, I'll leave you two now." Vern and his three troops exited the one-room hut, leaving Bernie and the commander of Dawn Brigade to themselves.

"I am Commander Hieran, the ranking MRG officer in the northern section of Atruria. I know only that you are a Novan soldier and that you wish to speak to me. What is it that you want?"

"to offer your the assistance of Novacom, we know of your plight and we know that you are making your move, the government has set no boundry in terms of aid," Pulling off the pack on his back with practised ease he pulls out a small CD, "This contains a full disposition of the Yallakian and Loyalist forces, you´ll need to move quickly for as the situation develops this will steadily become useless to you," His posture betrayed nothing except confidence, his tone was even despite his speech being slightly jerky, due to accent, his long tunic hanging loosely over his arms as they moved forward with the Precious CD, he held it strangley, as if unused to holding such a data medium.

"if you´ll accept our offer we can begin at once in our assisstance, providing you with mechnicians to rapidly build up an infrastructure to support a potent military force, in addition we will supply the materiel to construct field and train an effective fighting force, guerilla warfare can only serve you so far." Bernie finished, rummaging round in the pack, a mysterious glimmer lurking in the visor of the helmet, as a faint twinkle lit the mans eye.

"there is a reason that our fleet has been moving slowly near your waters, this conflict has been predicted long ago." he finished ominously.

Commander Hieran looked intensely at the Novan soldier as he listened to the offer. Upon seeing the CD, Hieran's eyes grew wide, as a toddler's does when candy is waved in front of him. He felt giddy with joy, though attempted not to show it. After taking the time to calm down somewhat, the Commander responded to Bernie.

"Then on behalf of Atruria's Marxist Revolutionary Guard, I accept your offer. I shall notify the Chairman of the Party immediately, of our good fortune." Hieran stooped down at his desk for a moment and pulled out a pen and a sheet of paper. He began quickly scribbling a note to the Chairman of the Marxist Coalition, his hands shaking excitably. Walking over to the fabric excuse for a door and pulling it open, the Commander called "Vern! I need you to get this message to the chairman within the hour. I don't care how it's done, just make it happen."

"Yes sir," saluted Captain Vern, from right outside of the shanty, as he took the note into his hand and walked off. "Now," Hieran turned back around to face the Novan soldier, "I would be much obliged to see the information stored in that disc."

Bernie smirked behind the helmet, They don´t truly understand how momentous this is, we´re not known for doling out information, but at least they accept this as a gift, if they´d ignored this they would have paid for that folly by reckless action watching somewhat bemused as the commander finished barking out his orders he waits a moment, an almost agonising moment strwetching out into a seeming eternity, before placing the CD down on the table, "you do have a computer round here don´t you?"

"once you have satisfied yourself with this I´ll notify my superior at once so things can begin moving, discreetly of course, while we have no qualms with helping you, it does no good to discard the aegis of secrecy until needed." he continued knowingly, "I´m sure you yourself can appreciate this," finishing curtly, casually pulling out a laptop from his pack and placing it on the table opening it, the keyboard, an unusual layout covered in Novan Calipgraphs, "of course the equipnment we´ll be giving you will be labelled in english," Bernie calmly states, in an understated tone, almost emphasising that this was only the beginning...

Mess Hall, Fort Vikedal, Osterland-Acragas Border

Thomas Lothar carried his tray of food towards the table designated for him and his officers. He looked at his plate of mystery meat, dipped in some indistinguishable brown sauce and nodded to himself in mock appreciation. Atrurian military rations, you've gotta love 'em. The cooks go out of their way to make them look disgusting. Reaching his seat at the table and setting his tray down upon it, he turned around as someone shouted his name. "Prince Lothar!" came Vaughn, bumbling speedily through the dining hall, "An urgent call for you... from Durenheim..." Vaughn stopped momentarily to catch his breath and proceeded, "It's a call from the DGI, he says it's classified."

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

Not three minutes later, Lothar was in the Fort's communications center, on the phone with the Director of General Inquiry, Atruria's top intelligence officer.

"'Majesty, we've got a report from a domestic asset in Osterland. Says he saw a parachute in the sky a while ago. Says it looked pretty eye-catching, though he couldn't tell where it landed."

"Okay," replied Lothar, over the phone, "So what does that mean?"

"Well, we know it's not one of ours. Apparently, the plane it dropped from looked very foreign, so it probably wasn't Yallakian or Aequatian. It could be any other nation with airborne troops. They're most likely offering aid to the commies, though they could be doing recon or some other sort of op," responded the Director.

"Alright. I want you to, first of all, get this info to Aurelius. Then I want you to compose a list of any and all nations that might have an interest in the situation. We'll try to narrow it down from there."

"Yes Sire," finished DGI as the phone line went dead.

Back at Dawn Base...

"Ah, right... a computer..." The somewhat technophobic commander of Dawn Brigade frowned. In his excitement to discover information about the enemy, he had forgotten that he needed a computer to view the information and that he was unsure as to how to use the modern machine properly. As Bernie finished pulling up his laptop, Hieran, in an embarrassed manner, smiled "Just a moment,"

He popped out of the coarse hut. He returned several minutes later with a younger, more technology-literate member of Dawn Brigade. The young irregular nodded respectfully towards Bernie, then grabbed the disc off of the table and inserted it into the disc drive of the foreign laptop. In a few seconds, he had pulled up a screen, which Hieran was hastily going through, making notes on, with a nearby pen and pad of paper.

After completing his notes, Hieran stood back from the computer as his subordinate moved forward and exited the screen, removing the CD from the computer and handing it to his commander. After which, he quietly nodded towards Hieran and Bernie once more, before exiting the shack. "I'm done," said Hieran, stating what was rather obvious, "It will be a pleasure to do business with you and you're people, I am sure," he proclaimed, arrogantly jabbing out his right hand, in expectance of shaking the Novan's hand.

"Indeed a Pleasure," returns Bernie, pausing for a moment, thrown slightly off balance by the gesture before realising he was expected to take the hand, "I´ll contact my superior now, we can begin preparations at once, and lay the groundwork for a source of great strength." he finishes ominously.

Tapping a few keys on the keyboard converting the system back to the unitelligable Novan from the English it had been displaying earlier, after another few key taps, a a line of text shrinking and enlarging appears for all to see. Spelling out in English one word, Cyberax.

Finally Deigning to remove his helmet and placing it on the desk beside the machine, a devious smirk tugging his youthful features while his brown hair glimmered in the dim lighting, "things are about to get very interesting," he stated to no one in particular before turning to the machine to call out, "Go Cyberax," the effect was instantaneous as the text swirled and moved and spun, coalescing into a silver skull, which without preamble spoike up.

"Tell me whats Happening Ajutant."

"our friends have accepted our offer, everything is ago,"

"excellent, I shall so inform the admiral," gently crooned the cyberntic entity,

"put me through to him at his earliest convinience," Bernie responded sleekly

"I can connect you straight away," came the machines cold response, it´s metallic forhead rippling with each word

"Do it,"

Report Ajutant," came a precise voice, of a more subtle accent, the "face" on the monitor from before had retreated to a window in the top corner of the screen, a different figure replacing it from before, an almost stern face, relativley youthful, yet with a line here and there showing his vast experience, he was Reece Dau Kenzal, an Infamous Novan Admiral, who´s lightning offensive had speared through the Kraven fleet to land the Novan task force at Iathern, and several years earlier had helped bring to a close the grizzly chapter in Novan history that was the dreaded Valjsguard.

"the commander here, Commander Hieran has accepted our offer, we can begin moving materiel in right away,"

"Excellent, your inerstion was not unnoticed however, I have set in motion precautions however, I will not sopeak of them at present, but let us say that the Artruians will be having a rather large headache shortly, I will dispatch the vanguard at once, coverly of course, expect them at midnight at the coast, it will be a mere trickle at present, see if you can´t get some sort of humanitarian disaster to appear, if that happens we can move in more quickly without drawing any undue attention, unless you have anything to add that will be all,"

(The bit after this is fairly flexible, means your commander can talk with the admiral if he wants, but the bit after is laying the ground work for something else.)

After the Conversation was over Reece sighed into a cup of tea reflecting upon the impending war, the lives that would be lost and the alliances to be forged and broken, the first light of a new era, it was an honour to be alive in this times, resigning himself to the impending future he sips his tea again before calling out, a phrase, "Go Cyberax,"

The name on the monitor turned and spun before chaging into a silver skull. the room darkened slightly as the tinted windows further darkened, the silver columns of the office reflected the light ominously as the face of the machine reared it´s head.

"What is your task Admiral?" the silver skull emanted.

"Simple, Insert yourself into every aspect of Artruian life, and I have another task for you as well while your at it, being down their intelligence division, and give them a good distraction, create phantom divisions keep the busy, while doing this knock their satalites out of orbit, give them an omen of their demise."

"very Well Admiral, Cyberax Logging Off," The Silver skull vanished abruptly, and elsewhere in the ship the AI began transmitting a part of itself through the internet, it wouldn´t be long, already it had ran into the roadblocks of the Artruian intelligence Beaureau´s defences, but it´s designers surely wouldn´t have thought on how to defend against every possible method being tried at the exact same time, reports would be fabricated, mysterious landings to the south, abductions and thefts.

Other things would also begin happening, the appearance of several new corporate entities, and a new craze, cheap internet cafe´s would begin to spread, slowly by a new company, known as Imagintex offering cutting edge methods of entertainment, such as laser tag and Virtual Reality Helmets.

Elsewhere at midnight small transports, invisible to radar and other forms of detection began appearing on the northern beaches, equipment being fast offloaded and soldiers and other personell moving swiftly around, the darkness concealed everything, by morning nothing would betray the dark tides franticaly approaching.

Back onboard the Gondawannen Reece steepled his fingers in quiet contemplation, before quietly repeating to himself "and so it begins, and so it begins"

OOC: Sorry about the delay and the short response, got a ‘tad’ bit of uni work to do this week.

Replying to Kaeso, General Aurelius said "Normally, if the High King was incapacitated, the Royal Parliament would take charge. However, as you may've heard, the communist forces have ordered that the Royal Parliament be disbanded. All those bastards in over in the Parliament have shut themselves into their chambers, deciding whether they should disband or not. The useless buggers haven't given a flying rat's ass about anything or anyone else, so for a short while, we have had no government."

Pausing, for a moment, he continued, "It was only several hours ago that Atruria's Crown Prince, who'd been sent into exile by Parliament, returned. As the only living royal, he gave me the authority to declare martial law. It's only recently that we've actually been able to get the troops out and patrol the streets. The Prince's gone now, though, he's leading several regiments towards the Osterland-Acragas border, where there's a large concentration of the enemy."

‘I see,’ answered Kaeso simply, only now realizing whom exactly was among the bodies in the palace. ‘One moment,’ continued the Lieutenant, before he pulled out his communicator. After a brief conversation with someone at the Imperial base, Kaeso flipped the device shut returned it his uniform.

‘Our forces are available for use where ever necessary General. I have five hundred men combat ready now and can have the entire Legion prepared by the end of the day.’

"Lieutenant," spoke Commandant-General Aurelius solemnly. "We are definitely in dire need of your support and thank you for it. Our forces are spread thin, throughout the nation. We require reinforcements on the Acragas-Osterland border, to the North. We also need troops to help us retake the Duchy of Ardhain, which has been seized by communists."

The phone rang, as Aurelius said to Kaeso "Just one moment," and picked up the phone. "Commandant-General," came a female secretary's voice over the line. "It's the DGI."

"Put him on immediately," the General responded, switching the phone's mode to speakerphone

'Yes sir," as the phone beeped and the secretary was replaced by a deeper, more confident voice.

"Thomas! You received my fax on the airborne landing in Acragas?"

"Yes, I did," Aurelius said, handing several papers to Lieutenant Kaeso, gesturing for him to read them.

"Well, now we know there must be something going on," spoke the DGI.

"You mean that wasn't enough to convince you?" questioned Aurelius, satirically.

Ignoring the mockery, the Director of General Inquiry continued "the Ministry of General Inquiry is being targeted. Only several minutes ago, we lost contact with all three of our intelligence satellites at the same time. We've checked out commercial and private satellites, they're all intact. There's something going wrong here. The communists have to have outside help, but we still have no idea who it is."

"Alright, keep me posted on any updates to the situation, continue try to narrow down the list of nations that have an interest," said Aurelius, hearing an affirmative grunt and killing the phone line. "Well, this just problem got even bigger."

OOC: My bad, double post

The First outlets had began to pick up trade, especially among the youth, cheap access to the latest craze was irresistable, the "VR Helmets" especially were camped, yet the pace of the craze was unabated, Imaginntex began expanding it´s current outlets and began building more, and a foothold was being established in more rural locales, several local news stations had attempted to do an expose on the company, discovering only that it was foreign owned, matters were further hindered by an infrequent disruptance to methods of communication, which were slowly beginning to become more and more frequent, nothing escaped it, not even Imaginntex´s outlets.

"Report,"

"Their Intelligence Satalites have been removed from their control, what are your directives for them?"

"knock them out of orbit, make them fall on their capitol, their unlikely to actually hit anything, but it´ll distract them from our dealings in the north, and keep our involvement low key, at present they don´t even have a clue whos doing this, from the reports you´ve delivered, we arn´t even on their list of suspects yet, see if you can´t chuck a few firecrackers into the pot, like say, Kraven and AMF being on the list of suspects," the Admiral chuckled over his military issue mug, brimming with Kraviran Blend Herbal Tea, his eyes bobbing above the brim as he beheld the monitor which the machine emanated from.

"And what of your making your way into the hearts and minds of the people Cyberax, how goes that hmm?" he idly asks setting down the mug on the hard onyx surface of the table, before rising up with his hands hidden from view, clasped behind his back as he with practised ease casual steps round his desk to approach the monitor to fix the mechanical menace with an inquisitive stare, "I need to know, their is movement of the Yallakians, I need to know I have a trump card to depend on,"

"It proceeds Optimally,"

"excellent," he mutters under his breath, lifting a finger to press gently on a cylinder lifted from an inconspicuous fold in his uniform, "Flight Control, this is Admiral Kenzal, I want patrols doubled immediatly, and have all Jikqyeas´prepped for launch, as well as all other units in addition,"

"At your call Admiral," cam the only response over the communicator, smiling gently to himself he pocketed the communicator, before pausing to stare round his office, fairly spartan with a few touches here and there to indicate who it belonged to, I may miss the Knezal, but this office certainly has more room, as well as more up to date equipment, he thought wryly to himself as he leaned over a large circular table, displaying in 3Dthe disposition of the Yallakians and Artruians, "Cyberax, be ready on my directive to spark riots to the south, we need to keep our erstwhile friends busy, while our comrades have chance to dig in."

"I await,"

Durenheim

It was late morning in Durenhall, the capital city of Atruria, and an elderly man, his walking cane held in hand, was taking a stroll. The man was meandering through the Royal Botanical Gardens, Atruria's largest and foremost public park, which was located directly in the middle of the city. Feeling somewhat tuckered, the old man spotted a bench, which he quickly sauntered over to and sat down on. He took a sandwich out of his pocket, as he contemplated Atruria's current status. The situation in the capital was quite pacified, after the failed incident that ended in the murder of most of the royal family. Elsewhere, in the north for example, there were reports of massacre in devastation. Well, he thought to himself, referring to his thirty-year-old twin sons, thank God that the kids are abroad, and thank God that it's so safe here.

Moments later, shrill howls erupted from people around him. He looked around, only to see people pointing upwards and yelling for him to move. Suddenly, he could hear a whizzing sound from the same direction; he glanced upwards, finding a huge, metallic object that was coming crashing down from the sky. But it was to late to move. Milliseconds later, his frail body was reduced to pulp, with a sickening crunch, under the sheer force and weight of the object that had come falling from the sky, which was, in fact, one of Atruria's three spy satellites.

Around the Same Time, Another Part of Durenheim

A younger man, still in his twenties, walked briskly through the streets. Dressed in a semiformal manner; grey slacks, a white button-down shirt, a navy blue blazer, and a simple black tie; he felt prepared for anything. This man, fresh out of the Royal University of Hochland, an esteemed college in Atruria, was traveling to a job interview at a small, but prosperous, law firm that was based out of downtown Durenheim. Okay, he nodded to himself, almost there, it's only two blocks away. He trekked one block rather quickly.

At this moment, he spotted something up in the sky. Peering at it, he wondered aloud, "What the hell is that?" He realized that the object was speedily encroaching towards the city. He stood there, dumbly as the large object whizzed down, about half a block in head of him. It smashed violently into a high-reaching skyscraper, shattering glass and throwing down millions of shards of debris. A minute later, the man recoiled in shock, realizing that this was the building in which his interview was to take place.

Still About the Same Time, Somewhere in Suburban Durenheim

A middle-aged woman stood at home, in her kitchen. She smiled in gratification, she had just produced the perfect lunch, though she had only created a single portion. It was a pity, she thought, that there was nobody to share the meal with. Her husband, an investment banker for an international firm which was procuring contracts for the military, was currently in the office, while her three children were at school. She sat down, feeling lonely, and began to munch on the meal that she had prepared. Suddenly, there was a resounding thud! that came from the adjacent room.

Immediately, the slightly paranoid woman, assumed it was a robber trying to break in. She opened a drawer in the kitchen and grabbed a butcher's knife. She walked toward the room, as stealthily as she could, which was really not very so. As she entered the room, she gasped in horror. An enormous, metalized item had come through the roof, bringing down a large portion of the roof and completely destroying several bookshelves, as well as the room's television, couch, and coffee table. Quickly, she darted to the phone and call the police.

Fort Vikedal, Acragas-Osterland Border

Prince Thomas Lothar (Maj. Gen.) of Atruria, was currently standing in front of a holographic projector, waiting as the top officers of Fort Vikedal, including Colonel Vaughn, took their seats in a compartment of the fort, known as the Situation Room, or the "Sit-Room." Coughing, as to call for attention, Lothar began to speak.

"Alright. As most of you know, I arrived here several days ago, to lead a strike into the north and to attempt to retake Acragas. We've already delayed the attack long enough. Now's the time."

He waited several seconds, for this to sink in, then he continued. "Now, quite honestly, we have no idea where exactly the rebels are located. However, we have no foreseeable source of intel, so now is pretty much as good as any a time. All that we know is that they have outside help, for all we know, there could be a foreign army already there. So we need to be completely prepared."

He grabbed a remote off of the table and switched the holographic projector on, as a three-dimensional, detailed map of Acragas came into view.

"Now, I agree that this tactic could be suicidal, but we need to do something and we don't know where the commies are based. We are going to follow the route that is shown in red," he said as a thick, crimson line appeared across the map.

"Such a large force wandering around commie-controlled area will surely draw attention. We will need to feign being off-guard, while really being prepared for an assault. Our objective will be to take prisoners. They will, by extension, be able to lead us to the headquarters of operations in the province. Any questions?" asked Lothar.

No noise was made, everyone understood what needed to be done and started to rise from their seats, in order to exit the room.

Fort Vikedal, Acragas-Osterland Border

Prince Thomas Lothar (Maj. Gen.) of Atruria, was currently standing in front of a holographic projector, waiting as the top officers of Fort Vikedal, including Colonel Vaughn, took their seats in a compartment of the fort, known as the Situation Room, or the "Sit-Room." Coughing, as to call for attention, Lothar began to speak.

"Alright. As most of you know, I arrived here several days ago, to lead a strike into the north and to attempt to retake Acragas. We've already delayed the attack long enough. Now's the time."

He waited several seconds, for this to sink in, then he continued. "Now, quite honestly, we have no idea where exactly the rebels are located. However, we have no foreseeable source of intel, so now is pretty much as good as any a time. All that we know is that they have outside help, for all we know, there could be a foreign army already there. So we need to be completely prepared."

He grabbed a remote off of the table and switched the holographic projector on, as a three-dimensional, detailed map of Acragas came into view.

"Now, I agree that this tactic could be suicidal, but we need to do something and we don't know where the commies are based. We are going to follow the route that is shown in red," he said as a thick, crimson line appear across the map.

"Such a large force wandering around commie-controlled area will surely draw attention. We will need to feign being off-guard, while really being prepared for an assault. Our objective will be to take prisoners. They will, by extension, be able to lead us to the headquarters of operations in the province. Any questions?" asked Lothar.

No noise was made, everyone understood what needed to be done and started to rise from their seats, in order to exit the room and commence the operation.

Lieutenant Kaeso flipped through the pages of the fax, reading with interest about the unknown paradrop into Acragas, while he waited for the Commandant-General to finish his conversation.

‘Definitely not ones of ours, General,’ said the Lieutenant, passing the pages back to Aurelius as he hung up the phone. ‘Well, I’m sure you have ample work do General, so unless there is anything else, I will go now and begin to make arrangements for Imperial forces to deploy to Ardhain and Acragas. It will take many hours to mobilize the full extent of the Legion, but initial reinforcements should be available within the hour.’

"So their preparing to attack? Interesting, no they know we´re out there, they don´t know it´s us but they know we´ll be out there, so they´ll be expecting a trap, or better yet they themselves will be preparing a trap, Trigger off the riots to the south, we´re not ready yet for an out and out engagement, so send out some reconditioned Tokons to firebomb them, we know part of their route, have mechnicians prepare measures to split them up, You see these here," Reece pauses jabbing a finger at a few points on the map

Admiral Kenzal paced round the large Projectab his hands clasped behind his back, staff officers looked carefully at the area he had pointed out,

"Those Bridges are the only way across to the north, now if we say blew them halfway through their advance that would have them seperated off, now say we gave them something to investigate and split them off even more,"

His voice trailed off, allowing the assembled officers to think of the implications,

"so sir, what your proposing is not a massive frontal attack, but instead a series of simeoultanous small attacks," ventured a young officer.

"Not quite Colonel Simmarel, not quite, you have it in part, now once we have the enemy sectioned off so nicely THEN, and only THEN do we unleash the whirlwind, we hit them hard and fast, and we don´t leave any survivors, none at all, now the commies arn´t ready themselves for anything, so we can´t depend on them, yet, we´ve begin outfitting them and given them basic training, now we´ll be putting them into the units in this attack, the best way to win this, is to leave behind a large and highly experienced army,"

"but sir, don´t we run the risk of being discovered too early?" returned the Colonel idly.

"Not quite, since we don´t plan on having any survivors it won´t be an issue, and we can also now exert complete control over the enemy communications, in addition to that, if they don´t see anything on Radar or anything like that how will they now? at the same time as all this is going on, our newly created sleeper cells will begin the uprising, we´ve already taken control of several key objectives through more, unusual methods," trailing off casting a knowing glance at Yuri lurking in the corner.

"and what does that mean exactly sir?," Barked out General Ventak, that grizzled old Veteran of more Battles then everyone else in the room put together, his manner was confrontational, and it was widely known that he ill liked the hectic Technological advances made by the military.

"Perhaps I can explain that Admiral," Purred Yuri from the corner, "Through classified means we have taken control of their Media, at present they think they are still in control of it, but when we give the signal, they will soon find the reality wanting." finishing ominously, drawing his arms across his broad chest with a smirk.

Ventak´s sole response was a snort before motioning for the Admiral to continue.

"Now at the same time we´re going to have Xorvel´s strafe them, while Tokons continue bombardment from above, we have some Denzels in place on the mainland already and we´ll be using them to aid in the support, now remember, we´re hitting them hard, and fast." He called out grandly to the room.

"We need to deal with this military force while we fortify the north, at the same time we´ll begin uprisings in the south, now we´ve assigned command of the uprisings to the Commies with General Ventak assissting them, Yes General assissting them, if things get too hectic your to call for reinforcements and go to ground." slamming his fist down on the projectab to emphasise his point while the General glowered at him.

The Admiral came to a halt back at his place at the Projectab, placing his hands palm down on the table he leaned forward to take in the entire room at a glance, his keen eyes swept the room he waited for a moment, letting his words sink in before continuing.

"Now to recap, we are going to split up their forces into small pockets, through various means, we are then going to contain these pockets and liquidate them, while we are doing that we begin an uprising to the south, and have our communist allies lay siege to the capitol, now does anyone have any questions in what role their area will play?"

The room was silent, everyone stood at attention, silent and watching, smiling the Admiral straightened up, "Excellent, now dismissed," and with this the room began to empty slowly as the command staff exited in two´s and three´s discussing with their assisstants the upcomming manoeuver. When the room was all but Empty he turned to Yuri, "Now, to brief those pilots of their special Role..."

With this Yuri fell in behind him as the two exited, their boots clanking softly on the hard metal floor, through corridors brightly lit, personell saluted as they passed by, onwards they continued through the great warren, the belly of the beast that was the Gondawannen. Eventually reaching the Pilot Ready Rooms, but instead of heading to the main room, they instead headed to a different room, a room marked off limits to unauthorised personell.

"Now, you are the elite of my command, you utilise our most advanced battlefiled unit, the NAWCU-BS04 K2LN-722 Kashizrion, your going to enter the battle when I give the signal, which I will give when the enemy has engaged," pausing, ltting the air ring with his ominous words, raising a finger to the air and holding if there for effect. "sufficiently enough to be unable to disengage easily, you will do as you see fit, but your ultimate objective is destruction, complete and total, I trust there is no need for questions," Casting his glance around the ready room for a moment, and nodding, "Very good, do your duty, as will I and this will be over extremly quickly," snap turning on his heel and stalking quickly out offering a parting salute as he leaves the room.

The Preparations were almost complete, not even half of the military assigned to this conflict had been landed, but the force that had was potent to an extreme, the briefings had been passed round and the forces were already swiftly mobilising, the forests did not reveal the presence, and the birds and animals did not flee before them, for some hidden force soothed and placated them. It assured them that those commuing meant no harm to them, yet instead meant harm to those who would in turn harm them.

Mechnicians hurried away from the bridges, their preparations were complete, the forces had already positioned themselves and all was ready, all that was missing now were the guests to this party, Several small camps had been established along the route, sufficiently far out to not be discovered, but close enough to be within reach, everything had been painstakingly prepared, the enemy might not show up for days, but it didn´t matter, they were here, and they were ready.

Fort Vikedal, Acragas-Osterland Border

The expansive green fields in front of Vikedal were buzzing with activity. Soldiers were arming themselves and preparing their weapons. Mechanics and engineers were making last minute check-ups on infantry vehicles, tanks, and APCs. Regimental quartermasters surveyed their equipment, while commanders surveyed their troops. Medical personnel were finishing up sessions with the combatants-to-be, and some units were even drilling in preparation.

Charles Lothar watched the movement from the edge of the field, along with Colonel Evan Vaughn, who had turned out to be more competent than the Prince had originally believed, and several of the other top military officials that were present at the fort. Lothar nodded to one of his aides, to command the beginning of the march, which was done immediately, via several ear-piercing screams and blaring shouts.

Charles dismissed his officers, as he ran up to the front of the assembled force and hopped into the foremost motorized infantry vehicle, which was starting up, Lothar was not one to lead from the back. " 'Ello, Majesty, good to 'ave you aboard," smiled the operator of the vehicle.

"Let's get this thing moving!" Lothar replied, as the small army departed from Fort Vikedal and into Acragas, tank and motorized infantry units first, followed by several regiments of light infantry.

Southern Atruria

"Down With The Monarchy! Down With the Monarchy!" came chants from the crowds that were congesting the main business road of this rather large city. Waving banners of the hammer and sickle and defaced forms of the Atrurian flag. "Up With Egalitarianism! Up With The People! Long Live The Marxist Revolutionary Guard!" These shouts and screams of defiance echoed through the business district, as rioters smashed windows and destroyed offices. Components of the Royal Army arrived soon on the scene, under the command of Captain Warren Vestrian.

At first, the army group had simply tried to shield businessmen and buildings from the infuriated mob. It soon became apparent, however, that simple riot police tactics would not be sufficient. Captain Warren ordered warning shots to be fired into the sky, to calm down the communistic protesters.

The bulk of the protesters, unfortunately, did not see the shots fired into the sky and mistakenly believed that they and their communist brethren had been fired upon. This only angered them more.

The untrained, undisciplined mobs, literally armed with pitchforks and hunting rifles, and whatever else they could find, charged the units of the Royal Army, who were trained professionals with superior weaponry. The surprise of the attack on Royal forces, however, was enough to turn the tide in the favor of the crowd, at least for a few minutes.

Now, there was anarchy in the Southlands as well, and the High Kingdom was in complete disarray...

OOC:
Okay, so there hasn't been much activity in here for a while, probably due to vast time zone differences, and maybe that summer is starting, and I'm really being tied up with this RP and not being able to do much else. As such, I'm just going to go with the idea that the communists put up a strong fight, but were eventually crushed and now the monarchy is in control again, under Thomas Lothar, though the nation has been desecrated and is being rebuilt.