NationStates Jolt Archive

“...The Communist Party is like the sun,
Wherever it shines, there is light.
Wherever there is a Communist Party,
Hurrah, there the people are free. ”
-The East is Red, song of the Chinese Cultural Revolution.

Overview

To say that relations between Sujava and Indonesia were strained would be an understatement... both were born in the chaos following the collapse of Bonstock and Singapore’s loss of control over the region. Both considered themselves successors to the Federal Republic, the former as a revolutionary movement to forge a Strainist southeast Asia and the latter as a fundamentalist Islamic movement which would establish a new Caliphate stretching from the Philippines to Malaysia... the two forces were simply incompatible, and they existed in a state of perpetual mistrust, with frequent firefights on the Acehnese border in Sumatra and near-constant violations of each other’s territorial waters by Sujavan patrols, Indonesian pirates, and fishermen on both sides.

But tensions had begun to increase as conflict blossomed elsewhere in the world. Sujava, long the more potent of the two, faced a world distracted, but also one where the extremists who ruled Indonesia were beginning to find allies who might make them a greater threat. From the perspective of the Strainist Party, Indonesia’s absorption was to have occurred eventually... now, the matter had become urgent. Before the imperial powers resolved their differences, before the Islamic world could consolidate its recent rise, the wayward Indonesians would be brought into the fold.

[OOC: A few notes. The timing of the operation here occurs in relation to events on Iron West/Dark Continent and their subsidiaries. On June 12th, war in West Africa is in full swing, the Iberian has fallen to the League, and the fleets of the Holy Powers and Walmington-Australasia have just begun a rather epic sea battle.

But that’s the rest of the world. This is the Indonesian archipelago. The following maps ought be helpful in understanding movements and the like:

Indonesian Archipelago (http://www.yale.edu/seas/IndonesiaMap.html)
Aceh (http://library.thinkquest.org/26300/aceh.html)
Sulawesi (http://www.villasinbali.com/images/maps/sulawesi.jpg) (in Bahasa).
Kalimantan (http://www.welt-atlas.de/datenbank/karten/karte-6-649.gif)
Maluku (http://www.govacation-indonesia.com/maps/05molump.gif) (these are the Indonesian-controlled Maluku islands... the south of the chain is under Sujavan control. It must also be noted that the island groups just off Papua (Misol & Raja Empat) are included in the Indonesian Malukus).

Erm... on Roycelandian maps, as on some RL ones, a few things are different, with colonial names and the like.
Borneo = Kalimantan
Celebes = Sulawesi
Batavia = Jakarta
Moluccas = Maluku
Billiton = Belitung
Makassar = Ujung Pandang = Makassar (the name having reverted after the fall of the FRB)
New Guinea = Irian Jaya = Papua (the name having changed after the fall of the FRB. Indonesia still officially refers to the place as Irian Jaya).
And, most of the inlets are no longer named after various Europeans, at least as far as the natives are concerned.

err... and, dawn is at roughly 6:00AM, dusk at 5:45PM, if its important. Which the former is, from my perspective at least.

LRR has graciously agreed to post on behalf of the Indonesians.

And ‘Red East’... not the most poetic title, nor the most accurate perhaps, but I was trying to work with the WW3 pattern, ‘Iron West’, ‘Dark Continent’.... ]



People’s Republic of Sujava, June 12th

Across Sujava and the waters of the Indonesian archipelago, as the first light of dawn appears on the Eastern horizon, the tinny digital tones of the Strainist Internationale rang from the ubiquitous PDAs issued to officers of the Strainist Revolutionary Army. An observer might have found the affectation amusing, or even annoying, a too-common ringtone that sends a group of hands scrabbling for their respective cellphones... but, in this instance, it marked the beginning of war.

The coming operation had been given the name ‘Garuda’, after a mythic Hindu beast which had spread across both indigenous and Islamic traditions throughout the Indonesian archipelago. During the years of the Federal Republic, resistance organizations (such as the PKB) had shown the half-man half-bird defeating the Lion of Singapore, its flaming wings gleaming with the light of socialism/regionalism/animism or whatever else a particular group had stood for. The bird had been adopted as an official symbol by the Sujavan republic, to stand beside the dragon of Spyr, while its suppression by Muslim hardliners in Indonesia had been less-than-popular. It seemed a perfect symbol to represent the coming effort, which would see unity on the Indonesian archipelago, led by Sujava and aided by representatives from the sub-continent where the myth had first originated.

Over Sulawesi and the Java Sea, 4:45AM

From airfields scattered across Sujava, various observation craft took to the air, cameras and radar systems peering through the night to confirm targets selected long before. This was not itself unusual, though the deployment of all eight planes at once might arouse some suspicion should disparate Indonesian outposts compare notes. The Quinntonian-controlled Global Positioning System had been dismissed as unreliable... who knew what false data they would attempt to feed through it?... and the planned Strainist system would not be operational until Combine money and Drapoel artillery were brought on board. Aircraft would have to fill the gap to ensure an acceptable level of accuracy.

ACEH OBSERVATION GROUP: 2 Il-20.
KALIMANTAN OBSERVATION GROUP: 3 Il-20.
SULAWESI OBSERVATION GROUP: 2 Il-20
MOLUCCA OBSERVATION GROUP: 1 Il-20.

Java Sea, southwest of Makassar, 5:55AM

The pride of Strainist naval engineering cut through the waves of the Java Sea with grace that seemed somehow unfitting, given her bulk. By the reckoning of her creators, she was the world’s greatest battleship... a statement that might garner much opposition from circles in Port Royal or London, though her detractors would certainly admit that no vessel afloat rivaled her for sheer scale.

She was the Lyong-ti, named for the greatest hero of the Lyongese pantheon, the god-king who had ascended to become the Dragon of Heaven and bring order to the world. She had been built to fight ships of equally gargantuan size, which had once ruled over these very waters, ships which had fallen to much smaller foes than her when their ends finally came. It had been her great shame to slumber at her berth, devoid of purpose. But now, opportunity had finally come, and she would purify herself through fire.

As the sea began to shimmer with the first light of dawn, with Makassar still some fifty kilometres distant, the Lyong-ti’s main guns opened up, sending waves of 20 shells hurtling through the air towards the Sulawesi city known as Ujung Pandang under the FRB. Their first target was the old fortress that loomed over the harbour, the defacto seat-of-government for the regime of Mohammed Kalla... it was hoped the Indonesian ‘Caliph’ would be caught there, though he was rumoured to have been avoiding the coast since the crisis in the Philippines. After ten volleys, over the course of as many minutes, the Lyong-ti adjusted its aim to engage known barracks near the city’s airfield.

The vessels accompanying the battleship join in the fray, half-sheltered behind the armoured bulk of the Lyong-ti. Vertical launch tubes spit their payload of cruise missiles, numbering some one hundred all told, whose targets were air and shore defence emplacements and military barracks where soldiers, it was hoped still lay asleep. More tubes waited, their missiles meant for targets in the air should the Lyong-ti failed to catch the city’s pilots in their beds.

Accompanying the naval bombardment came some thirty Su-35 aircraft out of Java, arriving fifteen minutes late to allow the fleet sufficient time to eliminate the city’s air defences. Their mission was to target the city airfield with payloads of freefall bombs, followed by government buildings should the Indonesians look unable to launch aircraft. Once freed of their weighty payloads, the fighters carried sufficient fuel to loiter in the area, each with two short-range air-to-air missiles in case Kalla’s planes responded from inland fields.

Once the bombardment had dealt its initial blow, an array of small vessels began to leave the shelter of the fleet... motor launches and modernized junks joining inflatable rafts to deliver infantry forces to the shoreline. The effort was not a majestic re-enactment of such famed operations as Normandy, to be sure... the SRA’s limited capacity for such matters had been used up elsewhere... but provided that the bombardment had disrupted the defenders on the shore, it would allow a beachhead to be secured so that civilian ferries and cargo vessels could deliver reinforcements for further advances into the heart of Indonesia. Two of the Lyong-ti’s ASW helicopters had been replaced with Ka-29s configured for transport duty, their 30mm cannon bolstered with rocket pods to suppress any shore guns that still sought to repel the landings... from a converted grain tanker, a number of ex-FRB Huey helicopters added further airborne elements into the mix, though these were woefully lacking in both armament and armour.

Alongside the vessels and troops of the SRA, joining them in the bombardment and subsequent landings, came elements of the Hindustani Defence Forces. Though the cruiser INS Blake might be dwarfed by the sheer scale of the battleship Lyong-ti, she was a respectable vessel herself, and the Hindustanis were prepared to make a contribution to the toppling of Kalla’s regime. A dozen covered barges and flat-bottomed ferries had been prepared, to be beached on a landing site that had been identified some six kilometres south of the city, from where Hindustani marines would advance to take control of outlying townships and roadways as they approached Makassar from below. The Blake and its escorts, it was thought, ought be able to provide fire sufficient to suppress the shore defences until the improvised landing craft reached the beach. Further support came in the form of Hindustani Hawk T.60s out of Java, though these departed quickly following their attacks, as they lacked both the dogfighting power and the substantial fuel of the Su-35s.

SULAWESI LIBERATION GROUP: Lyong-ti (BBN), Hamae (DDG), Kuane (DDG), Hiriayu (FFG), Shimusui (FFG), Ongayu (FFG), Megumiayu (FFG), Asaayu (FFG), Benayu (FFG), Sjarifuddin (FS), Musso (FS), 60 civilian vessels of various types, 30 Su-35 (bombs, 2 SRAAM), 2 Ka-29 helicopter, 28 UH-1 helicopter, 368 infantry (helicopter-delivered), 4800 infantry (ship-delivered).

SUJAVA-HINDUSTAN SULAWESI FRIENDSHIP GROUP: INS Blake (cruiser), INS Goa (destroyer), INS Gilgit (frigate), INS Jaipur (frigate), INS Quetta (frigate), INS Colombo (frigate), 20 Hawk T.60, 4 Sea King ASW helicopter, 4 Lynx ASW helicopter, 1 Dhruv ASW helicopter, 3000 marines.

Kendawangan, southwestern Kalimantan, 5:55AM

As Makassar felt the fury of the Lyong-ti, the town of Kendawangan in Kalimantan was experiencing an operation out of proportion to its small seize. The seas to the south and west were scattered with SRA warships, who opened the attack with cruise missile barrages against barracks and military facilities across the southwest coast, from Banjarmasin to Pontianak, while a squadron of Su-35s swept over Kendawangan itself with laser-guided bombs to strike at Indonesian garrisons and shore guns. As the first explosions echoed through the air, another sound was heard: the drone of propellers and odd swish which marked the approach of Hovercraft.

If all went according to plan, a movement of this scale would not be expected by the already-surprised Indonesians, the vessels for its execution having been built in the covered shipyards of Belitung using designs of neither Strainist nor FRB origin. They were Cholima-class hovercraft and Choson-class fast landing-craft, born from the minds of the Drapoel and of optimal utility here, at the narrowest point of the Java Sea. The vessels made landfall all along the coast, the hovercraft continuing up the beaches while their conventional sisters stopped in the shallows to sweep enemy movements with 14.5mm machine gun fire as their passengers leapt into the waves. Their troops disgorged, the craft retreated back to Belitung, to be refuelled and reloaded with another wave. All told, some 12,000 soldiers were to be moved to Kendawangan, before the transports were halted for rest and preparations to resume operations against towns further along the coast.
http://img301.imageshack.us/img301/4043/garudalandingonkalimantagx1.jpg

Charging the shoreline, the Strainist infantry sought to quickly secure the township, waiting only until the local enemy was defeated before splitting up, a few hundred remaining as garrison while the rest began moving in two thrusts further into Borneo. The first, using any vehicles that could be captured from Indonesian troops, as well as folding bicycles, heads north along the paved roadway towards Ketapang, its 6,000 men hoping to secure the towns linked by the road before attempting to push through the jungles. The second is not so fortunate, pushing through the jungle towards nearby Belangiran, from where an attempt can eventually be made to reach Pankalanbun and the southeastern communities beyond.

KALIMANTAN LIBERATION GROUP: Nane (DDG), Pane (DDG), Fuayu (FFG), Geayu (FFG), Hirie (FFG), Samue (FFG), 40 hovercraft, 60 fast landing craft, 10 Su-35 (laser-guided bombs), 12000 infantry (in waves of 4000).

North of Balikpapan, eastern Kalimantan, 3:15AM

The city of Balikpapan was a key objective for the Strainists, sitting as it was at the heart of Indonesia’s oil industry... oil for which Jakarta had a substantial thirst. Yet, the city lay midway up the Makassar strait, difficult to reach in an initial assault, and Strainist planners were certain that Kalla would attempt to destroy the valuable wells if the SRA appeared to be winning further south. The city would have to fall quickly to prevent such a disaster.

It was for this goal that, under the shelter of night, the Revolutionary Army’s two largest submarines heaved to the surface in the Makassar Strait, some ten kilometres north of Balikpapan and four kilometres offshore. The two Shoho-class vessels were an unusual weapon, related in design to the USSR’s Project 941 boats, but with an entirely different mission in mind: where the 941 carried ballistic missiles, the Shoho carried cargo... in particular, soldiers. In recent months, the craft had been employed in delivery of supplies to the New People’s Army in the Philippines, but now they embarked upon a more active mission.

On the foredecks of the surfaced Shoho, crews rushed to install ramps to the water and to inflate transport dinghies. Once the way was prepared, the submarines began to disgorge their cargo: from the first, some six hundred infantry boarded their rubber boats in groups of twenty. From the second, twenty-four tanks slid down into the calm waters of the Strait.

The Type 63A was not a particularly impressive design... its armour was light and its 105mm gun was little threat to most modern battle tanks. But the PRC-designed vehicle was not meant for victory in armoured engagements: it was meant for amphibious assaults, the world’s only sea-going tank. While collapse of Communist China and re-unification had left it untested on its mission of crossing the Strait of Taiwan, here it would give Strainist troops an advantage the Indonesians would not have prepared for.

The tanks and accompanying boats moved slowly, aiming to reach the shore and move inland without being spotted. This particular stretch of beach had been selected for both its even slope and absence of nearby habitations, but the Indonesians were hard to predict... if they were engaged, there would be nothing to do but rush the shore and press openly towards Balikpapan through whatever opposition was mustered.

Regardless of their progress, the rest of the operation near Balikpapan would proceed in concert with the rest of the SRA’s assaults, at dawn’s first light. Twelve Su-35 aircraft, from bases in Java, arrived at high speed to deliver bombs onto barracks and defensive positions around the city. Unlike much of the ordnance now falling on Indonesia, these were ‘smart’ weapons, equipped with laser guidance, to avoid damage to the city’s valuable infrastructure. The aircraft would retreat to loiter at altitude following their strikes, in case the Indonesians managed to muster any aircraft in the area... a clear sign of Strainist arrogance, none of the craft carried missiles: if there was to be a dogfight, they would conduct it with their cannon.

Beneath the fighters, three frigates and three cargo ships pushed up the Makassar Strait in a desperate sprint to reach their proper positions. The cargo vessels were the SRA’s ‘merchant carriers’, converted during the Philippine crisis to carry ASW helicopters that might defend convoys from French pirates. Now, they carried different variants of the same Ka-28 craft, these each carrying sixteen soldiers... once in range, the helicopters launched at top speed towards Balikpapan, aiming to disgorge their troops onto the offshore platforms there. There was little fuel to spare in their tanks... it was hoped that a landing area might be secured nearby before they had made their deliveries, so the craft would not have to risk the attempt of returning to their carriers.

BALIKPAPAN LIBERATION GROUP: I-412(SSPN), I-411(SSPN), I-123 (SSN), I-124 (SSN), 18 Ka-29 transport helicopter, 12 Su-35 (bombs), 24 T-63A light tank, 600 marine infantry (30 inflatable rafts), 288 infantry (helicopter-mobile).

Aceh, Sumatra, 5:55AM
Militarily, Indonesia was a poor rival to the Strainist Revolutionary Army, at least in terms of numbers and quality of equipment, and likely morale as well. But Aceh was a different story: the people of northern Sumatra were a fiercely independent folk, who had voted to secede from Sujava in its earliest days... they would not surrender easily. And, it was in Aceh that could be found Indonesia’s force of Leopard II battle tanks, inherited from the fallen FRB like many of Sujava’s own tanks. These were a dangerous threat, but also a juicy morsel for which the Strainists could not help but make a grasp.

At the break of dawn, a force of almost a hundred Su-35 fighters, along with the occasional Gripen, scream through the skies above Aceh. Wary of anti-aircraft fire, the fighters stay high, descending steeply just short of their targets in order to disgorge their bombs with at least passable accuracy. Their victims are the barracks and civilian housing surrounding Aceh’s tank depots, where many Indonesian tank crews ought still be resting. Bombs away, the fighter force retreats back to its fields for a change of pilots and another load, so they might return to join the fray as quickly as possible. Locating Aceh’s Viggen aircraft, scattered in hidden hangars and mountain caves, is deemed too difficult a task... but twelve additional Su-35s loiter in the area with full loads of air-to-air missiles, eager for a dogfight should Indonesian pilots risk taking to the air.

As the first craft release their bombs, SRA artillery units along the Sujava-Aceh border open up upon their Indonesian counterparts, tubes targeting particularly those fortifications which could be easily identified by scouting in the days before. The vast majority of the bombardment, however, consists of rockets, including the occasional thermobaric (fuel-air) round... a saturation attack rather than a precision one. This bombardment is maintained for some fifteen minutes before SRA forces begin their advance, and it continues intermittently until front-line ammunition supplies are expended against any Acehnese spotted attempting a counter-assault.

Arrayed against Aceh are several heavy divisions, armoured columns of little use anywhere else on the archipelago.

From Sidikalang, the first column pushed westward, and then north along the shore. Its objective was Tapaktuan, whose airfield made it a key hub for Indonesian forces in southern Aceh. The column was spearheaded by a mechanized infantry brigade and two brigades of Bonstockian-built Leopard tanks... a formidable weapon, though the Acehnese could equal it if their tank crews had survived the SRA’s attempts to kill them in their beds. In an attempt to deal with these should they appear, the thrust was accompanied by a dozen Ka-29 attack helicopters, each mounting a pair of ATGMs, as well as rocket pods to deal with enemy infantry. Were there no enemy forces in the border regions, or the smaller towns that dotted the road to Tapaktuan, the spearhead would reach its target in two hours: no one thought that was likely, but the goal was to smash enemy concentrations and fortifications and continue moving. Following behind the initial push would come several brigades of foot infantry, tasked with securing captured communities and engaging pockets of resistance.

Along the northern coast, a similar course was pursued, with a thrust from Binjai towards Langsa, using the superior speed afforded by the paved roadways built between Medan and Banda Aceh under the Federal Republic. Composition of this force is also similar to that in the south, though one tank brigade is made up of T-55s rather than the far superior Leopard 2s. These tanks, whose main guns are unlikely to score kills against Acehnese Leopards head-on, rely more on their ATGMs when faced with armoured opposition.

A final column embarks on a thrust through Aceh’s mountainous center, from Kabanjahe towards Kutacane. This force moves much more slowly, due to the difficult terrain and an absence of mechanized infantry, but it has a distinct advantage: the T-92. Two brigades of the indigenous Lyongese tank lead the central thrust, and the vehicles are in their element: they were built to fight in the mountainous terrain of Lyong, and here in the central mountains of Aceh, features such as independent points of elevation give them an advantage in outmaneuvering the Leopards they will likely face. Behind the tanks, infantry advance on foot to sweep out the Acehnese and secure the area surrounding Kutacane.

Finally, along the coast, the whirr of helicopter rotors can be heard, as outlying islands receive visits from ex-FRB Huey helicopters carrying SRA soldiers. Most of these islands are not populated, let alone garrisoned, but they must be swept... and prepared to surprise any Acehnese who hope to find shelter after a defeat on the mainland.

ACEH BORDER LIBERATION GROUP: 84 Su-35 (bombs), 12 SaaB Gripen (bombs), 12 Su-35 (SRAAMs), 8 DF-15 Ballistic Rocket launcher, 24 320mm MRLS, 64 122mm MRLS, 24 105mm MRLS, 12 155mm howitzer, 18 122mm howitzer, 12 100mm AT gun, 18 120mm mortar.
ACEH LIBERATION GROUP SOUTH: 336 Leopard 2A5 MBT, 936 infantry (mechanized), 4536 infantry (foot), 12 Ka-29 attack helicopters.
ACEH LIBERATION GROUP NORTH:168 Leopard 2A5 MBT, 168 T-55 MBT, 936 infantry (mechanized), 4536 infantry (foot), 12 Ka-29 attack helicopters.
ACEH LIBERATION GROUP CENTER: 336 T-92 MBT, 5704 infantry (foot), 12 Ka-29 attack helicopters.
ACEH PERIPHERY LIBERATION GROUP: 30 UH-1 helicopters, 360 infantry (helicopter-borne)

Molucca Islands, 2:55AM

The SRA did not take up the task of toppling Indonesia alone, nor could it... its plans required expertise in fields where its own troops were woefully lacking. The Indonesian Navy was the target of one such plan. Its ships lay in port at the ex-FRB naval base in Galelea, and as with the Leopard tanks of Aceh, the SRA hoped to capture the hulls rather than engage them in combat. To accomplish this, they required parachute-capable forces: in Sujava at the present time, that meant the Hindustanis.

The SRA had been working as fast as it could manage to convert craft from Sujava’s civilian airlines for paratroop duty... mostly elderly DC-3s and Fokker ‘Friendship’ craft. Now, these bore their loads of HDF paratroopers out over the Moluccas, passing some four kilometers south of Galelea and releasing some 800 soldiers into the air. These troops were to move across the island to the Galelea facilities, where they would proceed with stealth along the docks and eliminate sentries and crews around the ships, before boarding to lie in wait.

At 5:55AM, a squadron of 10 Su-35 aircraft were to swoop in upon the port barracks, disgorging a load of freefall bombs and signaling the now-infiltrated paratroopers to eliminate remaining crews and secure the vessels. A second wave of paratroopers would be delivered, to assault and secure the town.

Further south, a large force of Hindustani ships, including the carrier Dadra & Nagar Haveli, would launch its assault on the Malukus. The primary target was Ambon, the largest city on the islands, which would be secured by amphibious assault, while paratroopers would secure the remaining islands once planes were freed from deliveries over Galela. These attacks would receive fire support from Hindustani vessels, and be accompanied by a handful of Strainist liaisons who would set about accomplishing propaganda work amongst the local populace. Once the islands were secured, civilian vessels would deliver SRA garrisons to assume control, freeing the more mobile Indian assets to engage in further assaults.

MOLUCCAS LIBERATION GROUP: Vare (DDG), Soyoe (FFG), Asashimu (FFG), 12 DC-3, 36 Fokker F-27, 10 Su-35 (bombs).

SUJAVA-HINDUSTAN MOLUCCAS FRIENDSHIP GROUP: INS Dadra & Nagar Haveli (carrier), INS Diu (destroyer), INS Pondicherry (destroyer), INS Jaisalmer (destroyer), INS Lothai (frigate), INS Dwarka (frigate), INS Solapur (frigate), INS Khandwa (frigate), INS Ahmadabad (frigate), INS Gwadar (frigate), INS Islamabad (frigate), INS Calcutta (frigate), INS Bandavgarh (LPD), INS Karaikai (LPD), INS Aditya (replenishment ship), 8 LCU, 8 LCVP, 10 Harrier FRS.51, 3 Sea King ASW helicopter, 3 Sea King AEW helicopter, 5 Sea King Assault helicopter, 8 Lynx ASW helicopter, 9 Dhruv ASW helicopter, 800 Marines (+armour & artillery elements), 4000 parachute infantry (in five waves of 800).

Over the Java Sea, 6:15AM

The psychological war between Indonesia and Sujava had been proceeding for some time, each employing radio towers and jammers inherited from the FRB to create a communications stalemate in the border regions. To break this deadlock, quickly following the first attacks on Indonesia, the SRA’s Psyop platform took to the air. Its powerful transmitters flooded the Indonesian airwaves, hoping to supercede domestic radio and television signals when a frightened population rushed to uncover just what was happening.

“... at dawn this morning, revolutionary elements of the Indonesian population began a righteous battle to overthrow the corrupt and oppressive government of Mohammed Kalla and the tyranny of terrorist clerics, aided by their comrades and countrymen of the Strainist Revolutionary Army. The righteous revolutionary forces of the Indonesian archipelago call upon all to rise up beside us against the wrongs and injustices perpetrated by the Indonesian government...”

Such messages were interspersed with reports on the progress of the conflict, as well as various news reports.
Several accuse Kalla’s regime of masterminding massacres and ethnic conflicts to feed their own greed for power, while others take advantage of the anti-Hudecian and anti-Western feeling Kalla had cultivated to take blame for Indonesia’s problems, using footage of Kalla dining and consulting with Hudecian troops... to further vilify the man, some scenes are digitally edited to show the Indonesian Caliph munching on pork and quaffing hard liquor.

Abdurrahman Wahid, once the leader of Bonstock’s largest Muslim association (arrested several times by the FRB), appears to denounce the extremist theology of the Jemmah Islamiah, calling for a moderate course of ‘Islamic socialism through Strainist methods’. That Wahid is a member of the Strainist Party’s Central Committee will, it is hoped, help diffuse Kalla’s accusations that Strainism is a secularist enemy of Islam.

Finally, the propaganda plays upon the fallen standard of living in Indonesia and Malaysia since the fall of the FRB, compared with images of Sujava’s economic success. The message is not subtle... most of the former Federal Republic is mired deep in poverty. Join with Sujava and experience true prosperity. The inclusion of Malayan imagery may strike an observer as unusual, until one realizes that broadcasts of this intensity will overwhelm the local broadcasters in Sabah and Sarawak as easily as those in Kalimantan... Sujava has always considered itself the successor to Bonstock, purified through the salvation of revolution; if one is already seeking to absorb Indonesia, why stop with only half of Borneo?

Finally, calls are made to Indonesian troops to surrender. Sultans are informed that they will be compensated richly for loss of land and titles, soldiers guaranteed jobs with pay far in excess of that they receive from Kalla... so long as they arrest or neutralize Kalla’s loyalists and present themselves to SRA troops as soon as possible. Those who fight and then surrender are assured proper treatment as POWs if they surrender afterwards, and are told that efforts will be extended to re-integrate them into civilized society once Indonesia is toppled.

Accompanying these messages comes a squadron of transport aircraft carrying small aid packages dropped by parachute... toys, Strainist currency, and luxury foodstuffs such as candy, as well as pro-Strainist propaganda pamphlets. All are labeled ‘A gift from your Sujavan comrades’.

ENLIGHTENMENT CASCADE GROUP: 1 Il-18 (PSYOP), 8 Fokker F-28

Indonesia, 6:15AM

The recent shared history of Indonesia and Sujava, under the Federal Republic, had once meant that their institutions (religious, bureaucratic, intellectual) were highly interconnected. While the wave of relocations following the formation of both states has weakened these ties, contacts and agents are still maintained. Strainist sympathizers know that, when the SRA comes, they are to rally the local populations as representatives of the Strainist Party. While those willing to risk their lives doing so are few, it is hoped that some will produce crowds with red banners in numbers sufficient for a photo-op that can be used in further propaganda.

Waters around the Indonesian archipelago, June 8th - 12th

Over the preceding days, those who kept eyes trained on Sujava would have noted that her submarine pens, where they could be found, were empty. Given tensions in the north, one would be forgiven for assuming that the SRA’s submersibles had departed to join the fleet at Lyong, to further intimidate the Russians. A look beneath the seas surrounding Indonesia would reveal the true target of the maneuver.

In the Arafura, Timor, Philippine, and Celebes Seas, Strainist submarines awaited the response of the imperialists. They were distracted, but they were never to be trusted... if they sought to take advantage of turmoil in the former Bonstock, they would be struck down.

The South China Sea and Indian Ocean are also watched, but with less concern... Jakarta was confident of China’s assent, and even united the remaining powers of the region could do little but cause the Su-35s at Belitung to run low on anti-ship missiles. The Indian Ocean was the Commonwealth’s pond, and could thus be ignored... despite recent squabbling with the Party, the Soviets would not allow the imperialists to pass, and Hindustan could likely manage well enough if somehow the Igovians were kept to their ports.

As the most likely opposition would emerge from the vicinity of the Coral Sea, the base at Tanimbar had been further reinforced by two Hindustani anti-shipping squadrons, though it was hoped that the speed of ground operations and the size of deterrent forces would keep the matter ‘internal’ to the archipelago.

PR Spyr & PR Sujava, 6:30AM

Across Strainist-held territories, news media begin to interrupt morning programming with special announcements on the ‘second stage of the Sujavan Revolution’. The story they present is close to the Party line... Kalla and his regime are vilified, the SRA is said to be operating in conjunction with the ‘will of the people’ in Indonesia and with the full backing of the world’s righteous powers (as evidenced by the presence of the Hindustanis).

Jakarta, PR Sujava, 7:30AM

http://img139.imageshack.us/img139/5534/garudabriefingwy4.gif
Almost an hour after its operations had been made public domestically, the Strainist Party makes the matter official. At a news conference in Jakarta, for foreign media and diplomatic representatives, it is announced that elements of the Strainist Revolutionary Army have deployed into Indonesia, with the aim of “bringing an end to a despotic and murderous regime, one which has repeatedly pursued a course of aggression against the People’s Republic of Sujava, and which has rejected both international law and the most basic tenets of human decency.”

No matter how hard they are pressed, the Strainists refuse to call their operations a war, nor to use the term ‘invasion’. Theirs is a ‘revolutionary struggle’, or a ‘deployment to liberate the population trapped under the fist of Mohammed Kalla’.

For many the invasion may come as a surprise, as no particular instance stands out in recent months that might have provoked it. Mumbai’s representatives are, obviously, better informed, and likely the date was well known to the Soviet Commonwealth, while Beijing and the Combine will have know such operations were being prepared (if not exactly when they were to have happened). No justification is offered for the timing of operations, save that the people of Indonesia had chosen this day as culmination of their desire to rise in revolution.

[OOC: If Australasia has RL Australia’s Jindalee OTHR, Sujava and Indonesia both lie within its range, and you’ll be up-to-date on all aircraft movements, as well as probably having guessed their general purpose as they mustered over the airfields before the attacks... there’s not much reason to put over a hundred fighters into the sky except to blow stuff up].

[Huge tag of Ottoman interest...I'll work to be involved in the RP a lot, once I sort some things out.]

(OCC: Sorry for the delay, Spyr. Yesterday was fairly busy for me, and I took longer than usual to figure-out where everything was happening. ;)

Anyway, here goes...)

IC:

Makassar

There is indeed a Caliph in Makassar, although not the one that the Spyrians might have hoped for. Soldiers of the Caliph Regiment of the Islamic Guard, the unit charged with guarding Sulawesi's South Peninsula, are largely still asleep as the Lyong-ti's shells woosh overhead. If that sound alone doesn't wake them up, the resultant explosions do, and Indonesian troops start to pour out into the parade ground wearing nothing besides their underwear and loaded M-16s. Several anxious minutes pass before the lieutenants arrive to order the soldiers to the earthworks. As they start to leave, some in trucks and jeeps, others on foot, the first ordnance starts to hit the barracks, turning what was an already confused response into a mad dash to escape such an obvious target. Some troops are run-down by frantic truck drivers while close to six hundred others are killed and wounded in the first salvo of missiles and shells alone.

By the time that most of the troops reach the earthworks, many of them with only one or two clips of 5.56mm ammunition, the first wave of Spyrian naval infantry is already ashore. A dozen NDL-40 rocket launchers are brought to bear on the beachhead from hardened shelters behind the infantry trenches, but it is only a matter of time before these weapons, lacking power as it is, are knocked-out by the altogether more skilled gunners aboard Spyrian escorts. Further members of the Caliph Regiment lose their lives as 155mm shells from Bogun-class frigates impact their positions, and with the Spyrian infantry still well out of range, there isn't much they can do besides drop inaccurate mortar fire on the landing beach. Once the Spyrians come within machine gun range, the Caliph Regiment will have a chance to make an impression, but there is still a possibility that the Spyrians will be able to take the hilltop earthworks from the rear, by negotiating a somewhat steep and heavily-wooded ravine to the north.

Another thousand men from the Caliph Regiment are garrisoned in Ujung Pandang, the fort for which Makassar was once named, and that number is cut by over a third in the first minutes of the engagement. 20" shells from the Lyong-ti crash through centuries-old stone and concrete and demolish batteries before they can even be manned. Several accomodation blocks are collapsed before there is any sign of danger, accounting for most of the Indonesian casualties in the fort. The survivors, many of them wounded and all of them surprised, rush to man the battlements and take further heavy losses as shells continue to rain down on the old fort. When the firing stops, Ujung Pandang can count a single barbette still in working order, and some 230 infantrymen fit for action. The most accurate fire against the landing beach comes from the two 8" guns there, although these do not survive long.

The airfield is also hit extremely hard. All five of No.101 Squadron's F-16s, and six of ten Gripens, are destroyed by shellfire on the ground, and the airfield is badly cratered. A further Gripen is downed by friendly fire, hit by an RBS-70 as it attempts to take-off from an undamaged taxiway, leaving three of the ex-FRB fighters to oppose the arrival of ten times as many Su-35s. Being armed only with a pair of Sidewinders and half the full capacity of 27mm cannon shells, and with just enough fuel for 20 minutes of flight in their tanks, their chances do not look good. Against the helicopters the men of the Caliph Regiment stand to do better, with several surviving RBS-70 posts, but a lack of training and poor maintainance practices might very well conspire to negate this advantage.

All is not lost for the Kadisiya Regiment in Southern Sulawesi, though, as No.102 Squadron's F-14s tear south from their base in Manado. Pilot quality is surely lacking, and the aged Tomcat would be hard-pressed to win against a modern Sukhoi product even in the hands of a skilled flyer, but the influx of Phoenix missiles will surely give the Spyrian fighters something to worry about. Perhaps, in the confusion, the Gripens might escape from the death trap over Hassan-ud-din to Manado, although it is just as likely that they will be engaged and downed by trigger-happy Tomcats if they try it.

South of Makassar, the Hunayn Regiment races to meet the 3,000 Hindustani Marines being landed there. ADEN- and BL.755-armed Hawks claim a fair few tanks and howitzers before they reach the end of their mission endurance, but not enough to remove the threat. It is not long before leading elements of the Indian regiment encounter the Hunayn Regiment's tanks, and a fierce running battle ensues between Indonesian Scorpions and truck-born infantry, and the Marines, with their RPGs, recoilless rifles, and ATGWs. Camoflauged under palm fronds and netting, ten Primus howitzers open-up on the landing beach from near full range, inviting a potentially disastrous response as Indian ships, especially the otherwise dated Leander-class frigates, are given a chance to sight their positions. The Blake's two six-inch guns and single 4.5" DP weapon might not be able to reach far enough inland, the same with the Goa's 4.5" gun, but Land Eagle PGMs surely can.

Kendawangan, Southern Kalimantan

Indonesian soldiers in Kendawangan are caught in much the same situation as those in Makassar, but are even more powerless to do anything about it. And as opposed to the fighting in Sulawesi, where numbers are roughly equal, there is only one under-strength regiment in and around Kendawangan to face over twice its own number. Lacking good communications with Sulawesi, the Yarmuk Regiment has no concept of what is coming at them until it comes, and when it does, the result is a complete disaster. Whole battalions are ravaged before they leave barracks, and command structures collapse. There are still some 500 men left in Kendawangan itself, and these rush to man blockhouses and trenches along the waterfront ahead of the Spyrian naval infantry. Hovercraft-born troops, though, find the bulk of the Indonesian defensive works abandoned, and will doubtless run into confused elements of the Yarmuk Regiment making for their posts. The town of Kendawangan is, therefore, quickly abandoned by the few units that have some idea of what is happening.

In Banjarmasin, Pontianak, and Telukbatang, where cruise missile strikes are not followed by landings, battalions of the Yarmuk Regiment take time to recover from the initial shock of bombardment. The dead are removed from the rubble, and the wounded helicoptered to safety. A relatively intact infantry company is, after a delay of about one hour, loaded aboard ten ex-FRB UH-1s and sent to reinforce the defenders at Kendawangan, whose fate is very much uncertain. With the regimental commander killed in his headquarters at Kendawangan, the majors in charge of the various dispersed garrisons take matters into their own hands. Some move on Kendawangan with all possible speed, travelling in buses and civilian vehicles, while others, fearing another landing, opt to reinforce their own positions. No orders are forthcoming from any higher authority, so the defense of southern Balikpapan takes on a very local, nonuniform character, with surviving officers wielding their units more like warlords than commanders in a regular army. There are, in fact, several secessions from the IRI within hours of the invasion as Islamic Guardsmen in several areas exploit the vague and confusing nature of the invasion to assert personal authority over areas of responsibility.

The Hira Regiment in central Kalimantan, not yet aware of the Spyrian landings but with enough time to prepare more effectively, will likely pose a more significant problem to the invaders, but not for some time.

Probably the most impressive response to the landings is mounted by the Kadisiya and Sawari Regiments. No.106 Squadron's Hawks sortie out from Pontianak, armed with cannon pods and cluster bombs, and head south, out into the Java Sea. Despite their low flight hours and poor training, the Hawk pilots attempt, in a radar-less aircraft, to locate and attack Spyrian landing craft, and to avoid the CAP. If they are able to do both of those things, the Hawks could take significant pressure off the hard-pressed Yarmuk Regiment, but success is, as ever, unlikely. The five Todak-class patrol boats of 54 Flotilla also leave port with a similar purpose in mind, although, being limited to 27 knots flat-out, stand little chance of catching hovercrafts and fast LCIs capable of 40 and up. Still, they each carry 21" torpedoes, and plan to use them against whatever ships they come across.

Balikpapan

2,500 men from the Hira Regiment, plus another thousand from the Ridda Regiment, comprise Balikpapan's garrison, a force deemed suitable for such an important town. That such a large garrison saps troops from the Malaysian border doesn't bother anybody, since Kuala Lumpur is not thought capable of serious operations anywhere, much less through the thick jungles of Borneo. However, like the rest of Kalimantan's defenders, they lack tanks and training. And like the rest of the Islamic Guard, almost all of those 3,500 are asleep when Spyrian tanks and naval infantry begin to creep ashore. A small bicycle patrol is the first unit to meet the Spyrian invaders, just outside Balikpapan. The six infantrymen, wearing the insignia of the Hira Regiment, had been out to watch for banditry on the roads, and their surprise is immense when they spot a Type 63 driving along through the darkness. These six become the first Indonesian prisoners of the conflict, and Spyrian troops continue towards Balikpapan undetected and unanticipated. In fact, it is not until the tanks reach the first checkpoints outside the town that the Islamic Guard has any idea of the trouble afoot. Identical to the situation in Makassar and Kendawangan, the first casualties are taken at the barracks, where laser-guided bombs demolish some flimsy wooden buildings and send massive splinters into others.

Troops once again assemble as quickly as possible, grabbing personal weapons and running towards blockhouses and trenches as commanders try in vain to piece-together the situation. Several hours of daylight pass before Balikpapan's defenders even catch sight of the Spyrians, and when they do, surprise is complete. Tanks were by no means expected, and those troops equipped with and trained in the use of Singapore-made Matador RPGs are quickly brought to the front. Indonesian troops man a cordon of defenses encompassing Balikpapan, and consisting of scattered blockhouses, minefields, and lengths of barbed wire. These are strongest towards the harbor, and weakest inland. Most troops end-up nearer the harbor, by virtue of the proximity to their barracks and the fear of an amphibious landing. It is not altogether understood that one had already occurred on a significant scale, so scattered companies are left to hold-back a Spyrian force numbering as many as a thousand men.

No.105 Squadron is quickly scrambled from Samarinda, its three types making roughly the same speed towards Balikpapan. Five A-10s are sent to find and attack the Spyrian tanks, five Hawks to attack expected assault shipping, and five Harriers to engage hostile aircraft. The Harriers carry two Sidewinders apiece, in addition to a pair of 20mm cannon, but as is the case everywhere the pilots are no match for the Spyrians or Sujavans in terms of quality. The A-10s, though, might just cause some trouble, and with luck the Hawks could stumble across the naval squadron headed to reinforce those troops that had been landed by submarine. Possibly, but not likely.

Aceh

The dawn raid by Spyrian fighters manages to destroy much infrastructure, and once again kills many Indonesian soldiers before they are aware of any threat whatsoever. But unlike the confused morass that turns out for battle in Makassar, Kendawangan, and Balikpapan, the Achenese are quick to recover from the initial shock of attack and get to organizing a defense. Tank depots at Kandang, Kutakang, and Langsa (supporting the Yathrib, Badr, and Uhud Regiments respectively) are hit hard, and Aceh loses close to half of its armored force in the opening rounds. By 6:30, however, surviving tank crews have started their vehicles and begin to move out, covered by Land Rover-mounted RBS-70s and Stingers. Having drilled incessantly, thanks to a surplus of gas, the Leopard 2A6 crews in Aceh are easily the best tankers in Indonesia, and have better morale than the rest of the Islamic Guard combined.

Achenese troops along the border also suffer greatly in the opening stages of the invasion. Skilled Sujavan artillerists, who had doubtless sighted their positions days in advance, are able to demolish numerous blockhouses and gun emplacements before they are even manned or loaded, and infantry barely have time to reach their trenches before the Spyrians and Sujavans are upon them. Border troops, some 2,000 in all, fight with determination and skill lacking elsewhere, but this is not enough. The numerically superior invaders are quick to overrun border positions.

In one of Southeast Asia's rare clashes of armor, the Badr Regiment's 65 Leopard 2A6s, backed by a thousand Achenese infantrymen, meet Aceh Liberation Group Center just southeast of Kutacane. It is clear from the start that the Leopards are badly outnumbered, but, surprisingly, they continue to move in a rough spearhead formation at the Spyrian troops coming straight at them from up the road. The tankers are not, however, aware of just how badly they are outnumbered, and do not know that they risk being encircled and utterly annihilated. Even if they did, it probably wouldn't much matter. They are out for blood, and anything Spyrian is considered a valid target. Infantrymen, carried in a motley collection of military trucks and buses, do not follow the tanks. Instead, they position themselves on either side of the main road headed towards Kutacane and attempt to block the approach to the city.

Yathrib Regiment's 70 surviving Leopards are not so eager for an engagement. They withdraw from the heavily-damaged depot at Kandang for Tapaktuan, protected as it is by the Regiment's 2,300 associated infantry. Company-sized elements of infantrymen are left behind along the road in order to delay the advancing Spyrian vehicles. They are well-equipped to do this, with Matador RPGs and plenty of land mines, but Spyrian numbers remain largely the stuff of speculation and a company is unlikely to cause Aceh Liberation Group South all that much trouble. At Tapaktuan itself, Yathrib Regiment's troops had erected a fair few blockhouses and tank obstacles, enough to make taking the town somewhat costly, if far from impossible. The Achenese troops are at least manning their posts in time, and know from which direction the attack will come.

Tapaktuan also has another card to play, namely the Viggens of No.104 Squadron. These are scrambled within minutes of the bombardment, equipped with four Sidewinders each plus full compliments of cannon rounds. No.104 Squadron's Viggens are easily the best-flown aircraft in the entire Kadisiya Regiment, and they rocket off the runway with every intention of engaging Spyrian fighters.

Aceh Liberation Group North faces the worst-hit of all Aceh's three standing regiments. Uhud Regiment's 46 operational Leopards are still working their way out of the devastated depot at Langsa as Spyrian tanks reach Kualasimpang, by no means far away, and infantrymen fan-out along the southern edge of the town in order to cover the northward withdrawl of the valuable tanks. Some 2,000 infantrymen are on hand to oppose the Spyrian advance, ready and well-equipped, although not with the benefit of much in the way of prepared defenses. With luck, they will delay the much larger Spyrian column long enough for the Leopards to reach the fuel and ammunition dump at Peureulak. They are also the only ones equipped with RBS-70 SAMs, and thus fit to down Spyrian attack helicopters, although unfamiliarity with the system and poor handling keeps the threat to the attackers down.

While the three standing regiments attempt to halt the Spyrian advance in the south, the Achenese Sultan coordinates the overall defense from Banda Aceh. A Spyrian invasion had been, if not expected, at least prepared-for, and Aceh's regency regiments are not quite as bad as those in Kalimantan and Sulawesi. Some ten thousand are called to armories and equipped with ex-Bonstockian M-16s and five full clips, a drab green uniform, and a steel helmet. Five regular regiments are made out of this force, and are deployed along a Stop Line stretching from Meulaboh to Takengon, and on to Lhokseumawe in the north. This will hopefully be reinforced by retreating elements of the Yathrib Uhud, and Badr regiments, especially their Leopard tanks. Assault rifles are also passed-out to civilians, and Aceh's sultan is quick to declare all male Achenese between the ages of 16 and 50 in the service of the Islamic Guard. It is by no means likely that even a significant percentage of this demographic will take up arms against the Spyrians, but it provides the Sultan with the basis of a guerilla force none the less.

Molucca Islands

Out-of-commission radar sets aboard Indonesia's four major surface combatants don't detect the formation of transports passing to the south, and likewise don't pick-up the approach of INS Jaisalmer, loaded with reserve crews, as it seals the approaches to Galelea. For an island with no regular ground defenders to begin with, Hindustani paratroops meet with next to no resistance in the landing. The very few Regency troops unfortunate enough to be in the way are either shot dead by silenced Dag pistols and Weasel submachine guns or taken prisoner, and no alarm is raised in the harbor. Likewise, as the paratroopers make their way along the docks and aboard the three Type 81 frigates of 52 Flotilla, nobody is awake to announce it, and those who are have long since been bound and gagged. The better-protected Kala-class cruiser is also taken without a fuss, crews given no indication that the night has any significance whatsoever.

It comes, therefore, as a great surprise when, at five before six, bombs begin to rain down on sleeping sailors and regency troops quartered at Galelea's harbor facilities. Another surprise is in store for the survivors, who rush outside to see Indian tricolours flying from the masts of the seven ships anchored there, and their former crews arrayed on the quayside in parade formation. When given the option of surrender by an Indian major, backed by six 4.5" DP guns besides 800 heavily-armed infantry, the Indonesians at Galelea take it readily. All in all, the operation had been a relatively bloodless one, and the Indonesians are not terribly upset about having not given their lives for Mohammed Kalla. And as the Jaisalmer arrives with spare crews, the Indians are happy to have scored themselves another seven boats.

The sultan of Jailolo is the first Indonesian commander to respond to the invasion. Headquartered just south of Galelea, the shock of the morning soon turns to rage, and he marches with 2,000 followers against the port soon after 7:30. They are armed with a wide variety of assault rifles, and can boast a small mortar section in addition to a dozen RPG-7s, not quite enough to match the Indians now that they've captured a cruiser and three frigates, but enough to cause them serious problems none the less. It is not long before the Sultan of Ternate, based just across the water from the Sultan of Jailolo, sends a party of his men to join in the attack against Galelea, armed similarly. A small amphibious section, in armed motor launches, makes its way along the coastline with the intent of attacking the harbor from the sea and confusing its new defenders, possibly enough to have them call-off subsequent parachute drops.

Meanwhile, Ambon, by no means more capably defended, is surprised by the sudden arrival of ten odd-looking Harriers. The island's commander is initially convinced that it is a flight of friendly aircraft, come to reinforce its sparse defenses, but that notion is dispelled as they begin to strafe airfield facilities at Pattimura, destroying Apache and Super Puma helicopters. Several 152mm coastal guns are on hand to fire at the recently-arrived Indian battlegroup, but are soon silenced by fire from 114mm DP guns aboard the two Indian destroyers. Troops on the high ground above Ambon city are woken by a short bombardment themselves, and soon spot the shapes of eight incoming Sea Kings and 8 Lynxes. Small arms fire is poured at the helicopters, but much is given back by door-mounted FN-MAGs and fixed forward-firing 20mm cannon. Marines sieze the heights directly through their helicopter assault as the first wave of LCVPs leaves the Bandavgarh and Karaikai only a few kilometers offshore.

(OCC: This isn't complete, as I still need to deal with Jemmah Islamiya and Mohammed Kalla, and that last part strikes me as a bit iffy. Tell me if you have any objections.)

[OOC: Everything looks good, and no rush with anything... its too much to chew through all at once, really].

Makassar

The bombardment raining down upon the city continues to be brutal, even as Strainist marines advance from the shore... where the SRA troops encounter entrenched targets, radios crackle back coordinates to the naval guns, though precision is often difficult, and ship-fired shells cause casualties amongst their own soldiers as well as to the defenders.

As they close into machine gun range, the Strainists attempt to utilize as much cover as they can in their advances, snapping off shots at targets of opportunity as they press forward. All are aware that this will likely be one of the most difficult battles to be fought in Sulawesi, and that the sooner they can secure the city, the sooner reinforcements can be landed to relieve them. Almost all bear the SRA’s long bayonets, 15 inches of steel jutting from beneath 6.5mm rifles and thirsting to close with the foe.
While most scatter below the Indonesian positions, squad machine guns spitting rounds from shell craters while marksmen search for members of the Islamic Guard who do not take proper shelter, several units of marines begin an attempt to encircle the enemy and rush their positions from the rear. Many bear odd ‘buckshot’ rounds in underslung grenade launchers, crude approximations of shotguns to be emptied down corridors and into trenchworks.

To the south, the first wave of fire draws much Hindustani blood, but the sacrifice is enough to give the waiting ships what they require: targets for their stores of guided missiles, which are unleashed in large numbers against the Indonesians. The Hindustanis have been informed by the Spyrans that ammunition need not be conserved... it is unlikely that naval units will see much action after these initial salvos, and the more Islamic Guard are slain now the less will escape to force conscription upon the civil populace, or to entrench in guerilla positions amidst the central mountains.

In the air, the commander of the Su-35s releases his aircraft to pursue enemy planes as they see fit. Perhaps to their detriment, most of the Spyrans see the combat as a game, a chance to score kills, and competition between individual pilots is fierce: in total, Indonesia has hardly enough planes to give the SRA many aces, and the honour is eagerly sought.
Thus, SRA radars scan eagerly for targets, and as each is located it becomes the target for several aircraft, some being somewhat reckless in their movements. Against the frightened Gripens, this does not cause too many problems, but against the F-14s and their Phoenix missiles, it results in two Sukhoi airframes plunging to the ground in flames, before proper maneuvers and countermeasures are activated. One pilot survives his error, ejecting and floating downward into the trees below.

While a half dozen aircraft keep up pursuit of the Gripens, some twenty craft seek to close with the approaching F-14s from high altitude, attempting to avoid remaining Phoenix until they reach the probable kill radius of their own short-ranged missiles... there, the pilots hope their superior maneuverability and helmet-mounted sights will give them a major edge over the opposition.

Kendawangan

As small-arms fire continues to echo through the town, and SRA units prepare to advance deeper along the roadways away from town, those tasked with remaining begin to dig into their positions. Existing fortifications are hardly useful, pointing as they do towards the ocean rather than inland, but anything mobile (sandbags, barbed wire, and the like) is repositioned while machine guns are positioned and scouts deployed to watch for enemy approaches. Within the town, locations that continue to hold out are surrounded and bombarded with RPG-7s and 60mm mortar fire until they surrender, or until they are sufficiently breached to allow a charge with submachine gun and bayonet. Any prisoners taken are loaded onto departing landing craft, under guard... there will be no room for POWs in Kendawangan until the SRA can press its advance.

The drone of Huey helicopters marks the first of the many Bonstockian counterattacks, and the Indonesians are met with machine gun fire from both 6.5mm squad weapons and much heavier 14.5mm guns detatched from now-departed fast landing craft. The latter is likely the most effective, range and power making it an excellent weapon against helicopters.

Approaching vehicles and infantry are met with the same weapons, as well as small arms fire from SRA riflemen, joined occasionally by a grenade fired knee-mortar style from an underslung grenade launcher. Once the town behind them is pacified, and the final wave of troops is readied to move, the Strainists begin a cautious advance up the road north out of Kendawangan. Within the town, a radio transmitter is raised, beginning to broadcast reports of Indonesian losses on all fronts and the benefits (moral and, perhaps more significantly, monetary) for officers who lead their men in surrender to the Strainists. Political officers also disperse amongst the local populace to begin discussions on needs and where repairs ought begin.

The first vessel encountered by the approaching Todaks is the frigate Samue, patrolling along the outer edge of the corridor being used to transfer troops across the Java Sea. Samue's radar detects the boats as they approach, and it prepares to engage them. Its commander, however, is hesitant to employ his expensive anti-ship missiles against such targets. A single Moskit ASM is prepped and launched at the lead Todak, while the Samue broadcasts a demand for the squadron's surrender. It is hoped that, even if they do not give up, they will be driven off.

Despite their lack of radar, the low-flying Hawks are able to visually sight the mass of small ships weaving between Belitung and Kendawangan with their last loads of troops and supplies. They are, however, sighted themselves by the Nane, a destroyer playing mother hen to her amphibious chicks. And, she is a very protective mother indeed. As the Hawks approach to within 70 kilometres, Nane's vertical launch tubes pop open and begin to spit their contents into the air. It is an absolutely ludicrous sight, the SRA's cold-launch VLS system releasing its ordnance as if they were spent shell casings, with the missiles own motors engaging only once they've already taken to the air... but one after another, fifteen Meigi SAMs ignite and begin hurtling towards the approaching aircraft. Derived from the USSR's S-300, they are capable weapons, and perhaps overkill against an aircraft like the Hawk, but the SRA has no wish to lose any of the landing craft which will be so vital in continued operations through the Indonesian archipelago.

Balikpapan

The Type 63A is a wonderful machine, an example of equipment built to perfectly fulfil its purpose. Against enemy infantry and fortifications, it serves excellently. Against the A-10, designed to clear the fields of Europe from Russian battle tanks, it is doomed. Even infantry-carried AT weapons are nearly guaranteed to penetrate the Type 63's thin armour. Though crews fight bravely, most firing to the end and some attempting to improvise an air defence using their handful of gun-launched ATGMs, the tanks are torn apart in droves by superior Indonesian firepower. As the fighting proceeds, barely a half dozen survive, most hiding under the jungle canopy to the rear of Strainist forces. They do, however, make their presence felt before they depart, especially in the opening engagements, as they lead Strainist marines in overruning the city's inland defences, and SRA troops continue to press into the city, hoping to engage the defenders from behind and force a surrender.

The gun-armed Sukhoi aircraft are partly to blame for this debacle... optimally they would have dealt with the A-10s directly, but instead the squadron makes its dive towards a different target: the Harriers. Attempting to keep themselves maneuvering, to avoid being caught in a missile lock, the Su-35s close to cannon range with the Harriers. One Su-35 is caught on its approach, maneuvering away from one Sidewinder and into the path of another, which impacts just behind the cockpit and splits the craft in two.

Shooting out over the sea, the Hawks doubtless rely more on luck than likelihood as they search for Strainist ships. Surprisingly, they are not dissapointed, though they come upon their targets too late to catch the merchant carrier's helicopters. The three frigates escorting the larger vessel respond immediately upon sighting enemy aircraft, but theirs is a less potent defence than Spyr's VLS-equipped modern ships... these three are former FRB vessels, Tulgary-built variants of the Walmingtonian Leander class. Each carries a pair of 4-cell Mistral SAM launchers, and the closest vessel begins to spit these at the Hawks, even as the merchant carrier's crew rushes in a panic to pull exposed fuel lines below deck.

Aceh

Aceh Liberation Group Centre is surprised, and slightly shaken, when informed of numerous Indonesian tanks barreling down the road ahead. However, the commander of the SRA's tank brigades, Colonel Chidaotoh Zenghe, is eager for the opportunity to test his machines in battle.

The T-92 was Spyr's indigenous tank, one which had abandoned Russian design principles for those of the West. It was a modern battle tank meant to stand toe-to-toe with the Abrams, the LeClerc... and, of course, the Leopard. But, until now, it was an unproven design, save a handful of engagements during the Sujavan Revolution (engagements which had consisted almost exclusively of a lone T-92 and supporting infantry firing on FRB Leopard 2s which had already been abandoned or damaged by their Javanese maintenance crews). Victories here would prove the merit of the Strainist design... failure might see the T-92 abandoned in favour of restoring Sujava's Leopard lines to full production.
In guns, the two tanks were equal: a 120mm Rhinemetall cannon, though the SRA likely posessed a better supply of gun-launched missiles. In armour, the Leopard might have a slight edge, while the Strainists had approached their tanks' electronics with the skill for which they were famed across the world. It would certainly not be an easy fight for either side.

With the enemy tanks still out of sight, Chidaotoh disperses his tanks further off the road. While movement forward through rough terrain is hardly practical, he intends to let the Indonesians come to him rather than going to them. The goal of the maneuver is to use the T-92's unique system of elevation to place them in spots no trained tanker would think to look for a tank. This results in the rather odd sight of tanks 'crouching' on rocky outcrops and 'peeking' around boulders, and is not without cost: one T-92 attempts to climb a slope too steep, and comes crashing down on its back to await the arrival of recovery vehicles. Supporting infantry, dispersed through the surrounding mountains, assist in concealment efforts.

A number of T-92s remain on the road... these are to be the enemy that the Islamic Guard expect to see, a further distraction from the tanks dispersed amongst the mountains. Just before the foe can close to gun range, these tanks will fire their ATGMS, hopefully disabling lead elements but more importantly ensuring that the Indonesians are looking straight ahead with blinders fixed. Their missiles away, the tanks will slowly begin to back up down the road, drawing the Leopards further in, until their comrades in the mountains open fire. Once the battle is joined, the tanks on the road will throttle forward to engage the enemy head on.

Liberation Group North has no intention of being delayed at Langsa, and they are forced to pay the price for their impatience. No less than three attack helicopters, attempting to ignore the town and pursue the armour beyond, fall to Indonesian missiles before the rest learn proper caution and turn their missiles on the town itself, retreating quickly back towards Sujava once their ordnance is expended. These are, however, only a minor danger compared to the weapons borne in large numbers by the SRA's infantry. While the armoured units hold back, concerned with anti-tank munitions, the Langsa comes under fire from shoulder-launched ordnance which detonates in a cloud of vapour, a slightly-sweet chemical scent signalling the coming inferno mere seconds before detonation. The thermobaric weapons crush buildings and pull men through the air, each shot nearly as potent as an artillery shell. Once the town is wrapped with smoke and ruin, infantry begin their advance into the rubble.

Advancing on Tapaktuan, Liberation Group South finds itself frequently delayed by mines and small units of Acehnese infantry, forcing the SRA regulars to abandon their bicycles and advance ahead of their tanks to sweep out Matador nests and minefields. They work efficiently, and casualties remain relatively light, but their caution buys the Islamic Guard time, a precious commodity indeed. Eventually, the Group comes close enough to Tapaktuan to sight the state of its defences, and the Group's commander orders a halt while he attempts to call in airstrikes rather than risk his own forces. Given the massive expenditure of jet fuel from the initial wave of operations, and the desire to send a second wave to Banda Aceh, he may have some time to wait, but a bit of assistance is delivered: the SRA's DF-15 ballistic missile launchers. These, like much of the ordnance deployed against Aceh, are topped with fuel-air explosives, but unlike the one or two kilogram rockets used against Langsa, these are five-hundred kilogram weapons, putting them on a scale similar to some tactical nuclear weapons. They are not radioactive, but they are equally unforgiving, and if the civil populace has not fled Tapaktuan already their chances of survival are slim. The Strainists are not concerned... they have been closely watching the French in Africa and on the Iberian, and have learned the limits of the world's morality. Whatever they do now, the French have done worse with comparable methods, and so long as the weapons do not split atoms to accomplish their task, it seems that the West is willing to let death occur on a wide scale. And, if objections arise... such proof of a double standard will bring on-side a world that still remembers the violating touch of Euro-Christian imperialism.
Still, it was not only their abilities that saw the soldiers of Hindustan moved far from Sumatra and the Aceh battlefront... no need here for hearts not ready to stomach the neccessity of clearing a path for the Revolution.

Three missiles are fired at Tapaktuan, separated from each other by four minutes: time enough for survivors to begin scrambling out of the rubble when the next round bursts. Once the third round had exploded, the tanks and infantry of Liberation Group South begin their advance on the town, accompanied by attack helicopters. Perhaps showing a slight pang of compassion, UH-1 helicopters marked with red crosses also begin to approach, carrying doctors and nurses in brightly coloured teal and pink uniforms, as well as medical supplies to treat survivors.

Moluccas

The Hindustanis at Galelea dig in as best they are able... located as they are in the northern end of the island chain, they know themselves to be amongst the last due for reinforcement, and they set about establishing inland defensive posts while shipboard weapons are prepared to fire. Maintenance problems are discovered immediately, but before they can be dealt with fighting breaks out in the harbour. The Kala's twin 203mm gun is perhaps the most reliable weapon amongst the ships, its design being far more basic than ASMs or similar arms, and it is turned to fire into the surrounding jungles behind positions where outnumbered Hindustani paratroopers are exchanging fire with men in service to the sultan of Jailolo. When armed motor launches appear unexpectedly in the harbour, it thus falls to the less reliable guns of the remaining ships to drive them off. The 4.5" guns of the Tribals are not to be dismissed, but their fire rates are reduced significantly by frequent malfunctions, and some of the attackers are able to enter the harbour, where a handful of heavy machine guns and crew-wielded small arms await them as the Kala's larger gun attempts to bring itself about.
The fighting at Ambon only becomes fiercer as information filtering in from Galelea trickles down to the rest of the Hindustani force in the Moluccas. If they can secure the city, Strainist troops can be landed on the docks and India's amphibious forces can be re-deployed to relieve the increasingly-encircled paratroopers in the north. Thus, as they attempt to fight their way up from the beaches, the Hindustani marines are filled with determination.
A Strainist aircraft swoops over Ambon to broadcast a request for the city's surrender, hopeful that loss of the heights and large amphibious lamdings will have shaken the Indonesian leadership in the city.

Above Aceh

Indonesian fighters are met by their counterparts, rising in pairs from roadways and rough airfields scatterd behind the border: twelve Sujavan Viggens take to the sky to shield the mass of retreating SRA fighters. As is likely the case with many clashes between the Islamic Guard and the Strainist Revolutionary Army, it is probable that the commanders of both squadrons once served together under the watchful eye of a Singaporean officer, in Sumatra's defensive air wing, before the fall of the FRB... though any remnant good will has been all-but-eroded from the antipathy and antagonisms of the years since that time. Still, in terms of skill, the pilots are close to evenly matched, and unlike most of the ongoing battles the Indonesians have the edge in armaments here: Kalla was able to, between captured FRB stockpiles and aid from the Hudecians, gather quite a reserve of Sidewinders for his Viggens and Western fighters, but while Sujava had more bases, many suffered damage as Javanese deserters fought with their Singaporean commanders, and the factories of Java had not included a line for their production: each of the Sujavan Viggens bears only two of the missiles, though installation of Spyran helmet-mounted sighting systems may bring those two closer to making up for their shortage in numbers.

Where the Indonesians are agressive, the Sujavans are cautious in the engagement, aware that if they can just keep the enemy occupied long enough, Gripens and Su-35s will return with fresh fuel and missiles to overwhelm the Indonesian squadron.

Central Sulawesi

Mohammed Kalla, not a man to indulge in overmuch sleep, is, unlike most of the Islamic Guard, awake when the Spyrian assault starts. Hidden in one of his mountain fortresses, the likes of which dot the inaccessible center of Sulawesi Island, he is also safe from bombardment. But this does not prevent Kalla from flying into a rage once the news reaches him of Spyrian and Indian battlegroups off the coast. The fact that his agents had not given any warning of such a drastic move is cause for disappointment in itself, and in the absence of good coastal radar installations his spies are the only good early warning assets that he has. News that most troops were asleep at the time of the attack only serves to fan the flames of his anger. Kalla does not, though, take a very long time to wallow in displeasure before collecting himself. Communications with the Moluccas and Aceh are of course lost quickly, thanks in large part to jamming, but forces on Sulawesi remain under his personal command, and it soon becomes apparent that Kalimantan contains several regiments that are largely uneffected by Spyrian operations as of yet.

Recognizing Spyrian superiority in terms of firepower and training, Kalla decides that a conventional defense of Makassar and the southern peninsulas will only serve to waste men and equipment. The regency regiments can fight a guerilla campaign there, and delay the landing enemy soldiers in their advance. With 15,000 soldiers as of yet uncommitted in northern and central Sulawesi, Kalla plans to block the north end of the South Peninsula, forcing the invaders to dislodge a numerically-superior force with advantage of position. It is hoped that, by engaging the Spyrians and Indians in such a costly and difficult manner, and denying them a quick victory if a victory at all, Kalla will manage to break their will to fight and cause them to leave. And even if they do push the Mecca and Khandaq regiments out of their blocking positions, the invaders will push them straight into the mountainous heart of Sulawesi, a heavily-forested region to which vehicles are ill-suited, in which small-scale infantry engagements will predominate. Bonstockian guerillas survived in that very same terrain for years after the fall of Lord Harald and his empire, and there is no reason, thinks Kalla, why he can't repeat the performance, on an altogether larger scale and much more effectively.

His headquarters also transmits a coded message to hidden recievers in Sumatra, Java, and Bali. Jemmah Islamiah cells, some active in bombings and other acts of terrorism, others biding their time, are ordered to go all-out against Sujava, and are given freedom to choose their own targets. Fighters in Papua also recieve orders to heighten their level of activity, in an effort to shift Spyrian attention there and thus reduce forces in Indonesia. It certainly isn't enough to overthrow the Sujavan People's Republic, but enough bombings might just cause Sithin to think twice about its choice to invade.

Makassar

F-14 pilots are surprised by the disappearance of two enemy contacts from their radar screens, and the radio is quickly swamped by the excited chatter of fliers trying to claim the kills. Upbeat feelings do not last long, though, as the remaining Su-35s continue to close. Missile warning alarms go off in every cockpit as short-range AAMs speed towards the formation of Tomcats, claiming four almost immediately. The others break frantically, discharging chaff and flares as missiles streak by at terrible speed. Another three of the big interceptors are damaged by proximity-fused warheads before the formation begins the business of dogfighting, the pilots ejecting or diving to low altitude as they see fit. Close-in, the Su-35s have a clear-cut advantage, with low wing loading and helmet-mounted sighting systems, and Tomcat pilots struggle to avoid 30mm cannon fire while attempting to acquire locks with their own aged Sidewinders or single 20mm gun. The backseater, though, soon proves invaluable, and several aircraft are temporarily saved from destruction on the punctual advice of their RIOs.

Closer to the ground, the three surviving Gripens turn to engage their pursuers. While their fuel tanks might be running dangerously low as it is, preventing the use of any afterburner, they are small and light and thus stand a better chance in a close engagement. The three Gripens also carry more modern Sidewinder variants, two apiece, and these are loosed at the Su-35s as they close.

The Caliph Regiment, meanwhile, continues to cling to its position overlooking Makassar, although only just. While there are still more Indonesians in the earthworks than there are Spyrians coming at the position, bombardment and accurate enemy machine gun fire is rapidly making-up the difference. Many troops, armed only with one or two clips to begin with, run out of bullets. With the ammunition dumps all but destroyed, soldiers are obliged to look on the bodies of their dead comrades for unused rounds, and all the while Spyrian marines continue to push steadily up the hillside. Thanks to the bombardment, what was a clear slope is now dotted with shellholes, providing the attackers with ample cover from the sweeping fire of Ultimax LMGs and M-16s. Matador RPGs are employed against Spyrian naval infantry under cover as well, although not without great risk to the shooter. Continued bombardment claims more and more lives by the minute, and many Matador operators are killed by sharpshooters as they poke up and over the edge of trenches. Soon enough, the order is given to fix bayonets, although the M-16's stubby affair doesn't appear too threatening next to the veritable swords used by the naval infantry. Lacking mortars and heavy MGs, the Indonesian commanders become more and more convinced of the inevitability of the Spyrians reaching and investing their position.

A small party of bicycle-mounted troops is the first to encounter the Spyrian flanking manouver. One observant corporal spots the naval infantry companies climbing up the steep hillside, and is cut down moments later by a burst of gunfire. His comrades, laden-down with ammunition recovered from the mostly-destroyed dumps, drop their bicycles and try to bring their M-16s to bear on the advancing troops. Most of the eight soldiers are killed before they can even unsling their rifles, and the others run for their lives in the other direction, not waiting to see if they are being pursued and not stopping to recover some of the abandoned ammunition. In an ideal world, the rear approaches to the earthworks would be covered by Ujung Pandang Fort, but with that structure all but demolished, the last thing the few survivors are doing is looking outside. In the fort, what were 230 able-bodied men had dwindled to a mere 55, the rest either wounded or killed at the hands of heavy enemy shells. One gun turret is heroically kept manned, its single 76mm gun spitting shells at the beachhead as smaller shells glance off its well-sloped armored sheild. A direct 20" hit ultimately ends the turret's service, and removes Ujung Pandang as a threat to the beachhead.

South of the town, the Hunayn Regiment begins to disengage, ship-launched PGMs having destroyed much of its artillery capability, and most of its armor spent in close-range engagements with light infantry. Only twenty Scorpions emerge from the battlefield, followed by another six Primus howitzers, the rest of the regiment knocked-out by various means. Communication with Kalla's headquarters being more or less intact, the regiment's remaining elements are ordered to proceed south through the peninsula, ahead of the invading troops and bypassing Makassar altogether. Tanks and self-propelled guns, even if they are few in number, could very well prove useful in conjunction with the two fresh infantry regiments now proceeding south with all possible speed.

Kendawangan

Indonesian Hueys are taken by surprise at Kendawangan, a town which they assumed was still in friendly hands. Of course, with communications out of order, there isn't any way for them to have known. Utterly lacking in terms of armor, and overloaded, the helicopters take heavy losses from ground fire and five are downed outright. Some are torn apart by machine gun fire and explode in midair, while others lose power to their tail rotors and spiral into the earth, disintegrating on impact. Those that aren't shot down quickly turn about, taking heavy damage in the process, and make for the relative safety of Telukbatang. Lacking enough fuel to reach that town roundtrip to begin with, and with many of the helicopters losing gas at an alarming rate the pilots will likely have to put-down at Ketapang or Sukadana.

Resistance in the town itself doesn't last too much longer. Taken thoroughly by surprise, most Indonesian troops surrender, and those that don't are scattered too widely and in groups too small to cause any serious problems. The first relief column to arrive outside the town is defeated in much the same manner as are the Hueys, Spyrian heavy MGs and ambushes accounting for another hundred deaths and causing the survivors to reel back towards Ketapang in disorder. Stronger columns, benefitting from the experiences of both the heliborne assault force and the first column, are prepared at Telukbatang and by noon start to creep along the coast and towards the site of the landing. Enemy numbers, though, are still completely unknown, explaining why only a thousand men are committed to the task of driving twelve thousand back into the sea. Moving largely on foot, the column will not reach Kendawangan for several days at least, and might be used to garrison Sukadana if more concrete information about the forces present at the landing site is recieved.

Offshore, things also go quite badly. The formation of Todaks does not pick up the individual incoming ASM until far too late, and as the lead ship's crew starts launching decoys, it explodes with the loss of all hands. Samue's Moskit-derivative makes short work of the 58-meter patrol boat, and convinces the other four to make for the safety of the coastline. Eight 21" torpedoes are released at extreme range, and the survivors turn north at full speed, leaving the pieces of the lead Todak to burn and sink. No.106 Squadron's Hawks, meanwhile, engage in frantic evasive manouvers to avoid the SAMs heading towards them. The small trainers have manouverability, but lack even the rudiments of electronic countermeasures and can do nothing besides weave and bank furiously. Inevitably, the missiles close, and eight aircraft are destroyed completely. Another four are damaged by shrapnel but in flightworthy condition, leaving seven Hawks to press the attack against the amphibious force.

Banjarmasin

After being hit by a fair few Spyrian cruise missiles, the FRB's former rocket launching facilities are in an even poorer maintainance condition than they had been in as a result of years spent without serious repair. The facility's extra-tall hangar is collapsed, along with several launching rigs. Fires triggered in the fuel storage areas burn bright and hot, and will continue to do so for several days, no doubt. But the Sultan of Banjarmasin still boasts his secret weapon; a single ballistic missile, of an untested design true, but one that, if his engineers are correct, can reach across the Java Sea and strike Jakarta. The missile, developed in absolute secrecy, not even Mohammed Kalla being informed of the program, is kept hidden in the jungle under a thick canopy of trees and camoflauge netting, to be erected and launched when the time comes.

Of course, the Sultan of Banjarmasin still has more conventional ways of resisting Spyrian invasion, his Guard being larger than average. Seaward defenses are belatedly manned, and elderly Bonstockian coast defense guns elevate from hardened concrete shelters in readiness for an attack that will not come. Armed motor launches, fitted with CIS 12.7mm machine guns and occasionally protected by armor plate fixed to gun and steering positions, take to the water and prepare to disrupt any operations on the part of landing craft. A pair of the launches are sent west along the coast, to investigate reports of commandos landing at the mouth of the Sampit river. Otherwise, the two thousand guardsmen present in Banjarmasin are employed in suring-up the town's defenses with land mines, barbed wire, and new trenchworks. A few fishing boats are taken to be loaded with locally-produced contact mines, and are brought out offshore to lay a small, but potentially dangerous, minefield.

Banjarmasin also plays host to No.103 Squadron's Viggens, although most of these are wrecked after the Spyrian cruise missile strike. Seven flightworthy aircraft manage to take-off from an undamaged section of taxiway, loaded with a pair of Sidewinders and rocket pods, and prepare to reconnoiter Kendawangan.

Balikpapan

Successful air raids by the A-10s of No.105 Squadron do much to restore confidence in Balikpapan's defenders, who had lost over a third of their number since the commencement of the battle several hours earlier. It lifts Indonesian spirits to see Type 63As, formerly crushing barbed wire and overrunning trenches, split apart by 30mm cannon fire from the attackers, although a fair few friendly troops are killed by the same aircraft. Pilots are, after all, by no means well-trained, and have great difficulty differentiating between enemy and friendly forces at such close range and with such little target information. But the mission had, for them at least, been a success, and the A-10s return to Samarinda low on fuel and out of cannon shells. Things go less-smoothly for the Harriers, who find themselves under attack by many more Spyrian Su-35s. But unlike the Tomcats, the Harriers have the manouverability to stay with their opponents in close combat, and Sidewinders are more often than not fired within their launch envelopes, rather than outside or nearly so. That the Su-35s don't carry AAMs is very fortunate, giving the Indonesian aircraft an advantage, at least in the beginning of the engagement. The Harrier pilots are not capable gunners, though, and once the Sidewinders are exhausted the initiative will doubtless shift back to the Spyrian pilots.

Anti-shipping Hawks, meanwhile, start their attack runs. Two of the armed trainers line-up on the frigates, attempting to draw their fire as the majority of the flight bears-down on the merchant carrier. Even the short-range Mistral SAMs don't face great difficulty in successfully engaging a pair of relatively slow-moving Hawks, and the aircraft attacking the frigates are soon put in the water. The others, though, attempt to approach the carrier from a difficult angle, where the Leanders will be less than fully able to bring their guns and missiles to bear, and where the escorts are in front of the carrier. All three aircraft take a different vector in an attempt to confuse gunners, and another Hawk is lost in an attempt to find a good position. The remaining two, however, press on, launching chaff and flares to evade the incoming Mistrals, and come ever closer to the helicopter carrier with their ADEN cannons and cluster bombs.

On the ground, Indonesian troops continue to fight with determination, but are still confused and uncoordinated. Rarely do advancing Spyrian naval infantrymen encounter units larger than company-sized at once, and even then many of these lack officers and important pieces of equipment. The Type 63s, while decimated by Indonesian A-10s, did manage to create several important breaches, and destroyed a fair few valuable blockhouses which would have otherwise made difficult obstacles. Nearer the port, the bulk of Balikpapan's defenders, out of radio contact with the rest, continue to watch the water intently, expecting a fleet of transports to come over the horizon at any time. Fighting inland is interpreted as commando raids, meant to draw troops away from the valuable harbor facilities and to make a landing much easier. Indonesian commanders aren't about to be fooled, and remain holed-up in their fortifications as the inland side of Balikpapan is overrun.

Makassar

Fighting in the air over Makassar is truly spectacular to behold... three types of airframe, each with strengths and weaknesses in far different areas, duel above the city. The Strainist aircraft have only two SRAAMs each, and these are soon expended due to the ease of catching targets with a helmet-mounted sight. Once their missiles are spent, the pilots rely on 30mm nose cannon to engage their targets.

As the Gripens turn to pursue, their pursuers are forced to pull up or risk running into Sidewinders head on. The sparkle of flare and chaff erupts as the Su-35s continue to maneuver, attempting to bring their cannon back around to sight the Indonesians, but at least one of the large airframes is sent spinning to the ground in flames, pilot left to drift down more gently beneath his chute.

Though casualties are many, eventually the first Strainist troops reach the edge of the Indonesian earthworks, first from the rear and then from the front. Underslung grenade launchers serve as miniature mortars, peppering the lead trenches with 30mm high-explosive rounds or white phosphorous smokescreens to provide cover for troops charging from cover to the enemy emplacements. At close range, rifles and bayonets are employed in equal measure, with several officers drawing their traditional Lyongese sabers as they charge, several feet of curved, folded steelto join the spear-like bayonets of the regulars.
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The Hunayn Regiment’s disengagement to the south is permitted to proceed, perhaps mistaken for the retreat of a shaken unit. The Hindustanis by no means let those whom they are fighting escape without attempts at engagement, but efforts are concentrated on consolidation rather than pursuit... once a shipping lane is secured between Sulawesi and Java, they know that the full weight of the Strainist numerical advantage will be brought to bear, able to deal with Islamic Guard remnants.

Kendawangan

Their machine guns stripped, Strainist fast landing craft have nothing with which to defend themselves against the incoming Hawks save their speed, which they attempt to use in scattering for the shelter of escort ships or Belitung... still, not all can escape the birds of prey which now pursue them. The Nane preps a second volley of ten SAMs, launching them at the remaining Hawks in hope of bringing them down before they do much damage.

With a cry of ‘Torpedoes inbound!’, the Samue begins evasive maneuvers, accelerating as its towed decoy unfolds from the stern. At this range, it ought be able to avoid a torpedo attack, even in a spread, and her well-drilled crews have no intention of letting a stupid mistake cost them their lives.

Forward detachments begin to advance out of Kendawangan, north along the road and northeast through the jungle. They move slowly, searching for enemy ambushes and positions as they mark a clear path to be followed by the main force.

Viggens out of Banjarmasin face the same concentrated machine gun fire as did earlier helicopters, joined by fire from the occasional Type 92 MANPADS. However, the primary air defence comes as communications are sent to Belitung, signalling for the deployment of its Su-35 squadrons. It will take only a handful of minutes for the first pair of planes to be fitted for air-to-air fighting and sent off towards Kendawangan, announcing themselves to the Viggens with a volley of long-range AAMs, but those are minutes where perhaps the Indonesian pilots can deal some damage to the highly concentrated infantry of the invasion force.

The SRA remains clueless about Banjarmasin’s missile, believing the Indonesians incapable of maintaining the launch facilities and equipment well enough for them to be operable.

Balikpapan

While fighting rages on the inland side of town, with Strainist commanders pleasantly surprised as their advances meet with less opposition than they would expect, eighteen helicopters approach Balikpapan from the sea. Each carries sixteen infantry as well as a cannon and rocket pods, the extent of SRA landings here for the immediate future. The helicopters do not concern themselves with the shore, however... their passengers are disgorged instead upon the outlying oil rigs, and their loads often lightened by emptying rocket pods indiscriminately along the shore, before they turn about for a return to their carrier.

There will be no carrier for them to return to. The Kajia, a year ago, hauled grain between Strainist ports and those across the Pacific or Indian oceans. Even now, carrying helicopter gunships, she is far from a warship... two deck-mounted 14.5mm machine guns spray the approaching Hawks with bullets, but when bombs strike the deck, the Kajia bursts into flame. Soon, the ‘pop’ of secondary explosions can be heard, as fuel tanks and ammunition store-rooms encounter the fuel-addled flames, and a wailing claxon signals the order to abandon ship.

Victory celebrations by the Indonesians will be short-lived, however, as several frigates finally maneuver themselves into firing positions and unleash their Mistrals.

Java Sea

SRA propaganda efforts continue, broadcasts boosted to overwhelm local stations. Calls on civilians to rise up, and on soldiers to surrender, continue unabated, joined by Islamic leaders who attempt to shift public opinion in favour of ‘Islamic socialism through Strainism’.

Two new programs also begin to run... the first extols the benefits to religious and cultural minorities living in Sujava. The second features a face that will be familiar to many amongst Indonesia’s leadership... the former sultan of Yogyakarta, who threw his lot in with the Javanese revolutionaries in the final days of the FRB. He speaks of the successes his city has experienced as part of Sujava, the personal fulfilment from his post as the city’s head Party official. It is a deception, in that the implication is that former sultans retain influence inside a Strainist state. There is no need to mention that Yogyakarta’s former sultan owes his position more to his personal popularity than any feudal rank. It is hoped that seeing a contented peer will bring some of Indonesia’s sultans around.

Aceh

Near Kutacane, the tanks of the Badr Regiment close steadily with Chidaotoh's Center Group, by now far ahead of their infantry and still unaware that their attack is anything besides a surprise assault on an enemy in travelling formation. Lead tanks soon spot the first T-92s on the road ahead of them, the relatively flat, level stretch of pavement aiding in target acquisition. It is then that the first Spyrian missiles begin to impact the Achenese Leopards. Four tanks are knocked-out by the weapons, able to penetrate top turret armor, and the assault slows in its pace perceptibly. The road doesn't allow any more than five tanks to travel abreast, and with four of those leaders destroyed, the remaining sixty or so are forced to either make their way around their burning hulks or squeeze through the gap in the wrecks. The lead tank, barrelling down the road all by itself, is soon claimed by gun-launched ATGWs as well, making another obstacle for the now-disrupted Achenese formation. But the tanks continue to charge forward at speed, hoping to close the distance to gun range as quickly as possible. Convinced of martyrdom, the tankers are more reckless than they should be with such valuable pieces of equipment, and any semblance of formation is soon abandoned for an uncoordinated mass, each tank intent on fighting the Spyrian armor on a more personal footing. Leopards towards the front of the Regiment begin to discharge smoke grenades ahead in an effort to sow confusion amongst the Spyrian vehicles, although the effectiveness of such measures against modern IR sighting systems is doubtful. Hopefully, it will make the charging Achenese less easy to spot until they get close enough.

In Langsa, the Uhud Regiment takes very heavy losses in its delaying action. Substantial buildings provide little in the way of protection as they are brought down by powerful Strainist ordnance, forcing Indonesian soldiers to abandon cover and take flight over open ground, exposing themselves to machine gun fire and shrapnel as an attempt is made to disengage. Some companies, ordered to conceal themselves along the road, continue to deliver Matador fire into the Strainist columns and engage in fierce firefights with dismounted infantry, but these do not look likely to survive for much longer. Infantrymen at the head of the column, those advancing behind the rocket bombardment, run into relatively little in the way of organized opposition. Some Indonesian machine gunners are left behind to disrupt the advance through ruined Langsa, while the 450 survivors make a desperate scramble into the hilly terrain to the west. Most of the dead are nowhere to be seen, entombed underneath piles of rubble, and those fortunate enough to be pulled to safety lay here and there on stretchers, the fleeing survivors not wanting to burden themselves with the wounded.

Tapaktuan is gutted by the Strainist ballistic missiles, and its defenses wiped-out almost at once. From the air, three large circular depressions are apparent in the city, marked by buildings in various states of destruction and fires burning with varying intensity. Soldiers and civillians alike begin to emerge from the rubble in some places, dazed and often with their eardrums broken, and men from the Yathrib Regiment lucky enough to survive the massive attack surrender almost immediately. Where they aren't blown completely apart or destroyed beyond recognition, Leopard tanks sit in odd positions, sometimes on their turrets or on a side, thanks to the terrible force of the Strainist missiles. Many crews, though, emerge from their vehicles alive, albeit badly shaken and often with broken bones and bad bruises. They are the lucky ones, since most of the infantrymen were incinerated or blown apart. So when Strainist units enter Tapaktuan, they face almost no resistance, only groups of confused, dust-covered Achenese wandering more or less aimlessly through the ruins.

In the air, Achenese Viggen pilots are only given further cause for aggressiveness by the destruction of Tapaktuan, and press their temporary advantages as fully as possible. Acquiring inbound contacts soon after takeoff, No.104 Squadron races to engage, and the Achenese pilots soon find themselves closing with their Sujavan counterparts in exactly the same mounts. When the Sujavans retreat, the Achenese pursue relentlessly, full fuel tanks allowing them to be less conservative in their manouvers, eager to score victories against the opposing Viggens before more dangerous Su-35s show up and tip the balance decidedly against the Achenese. Many Sidewinders are launched from long range in a bid to score kills, something that No.104 Squadron can afford to do given the larger-than-average missile payload carried by its aircraft.

Halmahera

The Sultan of Jailolo's men open the attack on Galelea with a frontal assault on the harbor, lead by a variety of technicals and mortar teams. A spearhead composed of a company from the Sultan's personal bodyguard attempts to punch its way through the Indian lines, but is driven-off with heavy losses when the captured Kala-class cruiser opens up from the harbor with its 8-inch guns. Dozens of good men are lost to machine gun fire as well, and the Sultan decides to change his strategy. Most of his men are ordered to dig-in opposite the enemy paratroops, and to keep steady machine gun fire against their positions. A group of 500, though, is ordered to make its way silently towards the island's airfield with the aim of capturing it and rendering it unfit for use. The Sultan hopes that some paratroopers are present at the dirt airstrip so that his troops, demoralized after the failure of their first attack, will have a victory to celebrate, however small and however predetermined. He is also of the opinion that it is the southern extent of the invaders' defensive cordon around the harbor facilities, and that by capturing it, he will be able to drive behind the southern defenses and thus win a further victory over the invaders.

Of those particular vessels, three are burning hulks, hit by machine gun fire and set alight, and the other two are headed southeast at full speed, after witnessing the fate of the other raiders. To attack warships in broad daylight, even those in port and without the use of their most potent systems, is never a good idea for such small and lightly-armed vessels, the likes of which a single well-placed Bofors shell can destroy.

The Sultan or Ternate, meanwhile, arrives on scene with his own contingent, although fear of an enemy landing on his own airstrip keeps most of his troops closer to home. Almost immediately, the two Sultans begin to argue, Jailolo adamant that Ternate should have deployed to guard the airfield at Kao, and Ternate convinced that Jailolo intends to take full credit for Halmahera's successful defense by sidelining his troops. Unwilling to depart from Galelea, and not unreasonably, after taking the trouble to drive the distance from Sidangoli, Ternate sends his men into Duma and garrisons them there. They will, says Ternate, prevent any breakout attempt from the harbor, while blocking the route of any airborne reinforcements landing in the northwest. That the paratroops landed in the southeast is lost on both leaders, and neither is willing to recommit troops to watch the remaining airstrips on the island.

Tidore, meanwhile, the least powerful of the three, keeps his few hundred followers close to home, confident that if his powerbase is threatened by the invaders, he will need all the manpower he can get.

Ambon

Meanwhile, Ambon's few defenders are having an altogether more difficult time. Having been driven from the high ground overlooking Ambon town by enemy marines, the 150 or so Regency troops left retreat into the town itself, some setting their machine guns up in buildings on the edge of the settlement while others look for boats that can convey them to the other side of the Teluk Ambon. The propaganda overflight does indeed shake some of the defenders, untrained and largely undisciplined as they are, but either way they do not plan to hold-out for a long time against the numerically-superior Indians. Mines are laid on the roads and sandbags are piled on windowsills, but when the three thousand Indians start to come down the hills, it is not likely that the Indonesians will stand and fight in great numbers.

Another company of regency infantrymen marches from Halong to Paso, a town situated right in the middle of the small spit of land connecting southern and northern Ambon, and set-up machine guns and RPG-7s to cover the approaches. Again, it is a very small force and not likely to stop much of anything, but comprises a significant portion of what Kalla can muster on the island. Another six hundred regency troops, reinforced by a company from the Sultan of Jailolo's personal guard, set about destroying airfield facilities before they withdraw into the hills to the north, more defensible geography offering the disadvantaged Indonesians a better chance to cause problems for the invasion. Wrecked Apaches and Super Pumas, many of them destroyed in the Harrier attack, others by withdrawing Indonesians, are dragged out into the middle of the airstrip in order to obstruct flight operations once enemy aircraft start to show up in greater numbers. There is also an abandoned second world war-era airfield on the northeast end of the island, although this is not considered much of a problem due to its overgrown and rutted condition.

(OCC: I found some better maps of the Moluccas:

http://www.websitesrcg.com/ambon/maps.htm )

Aceh

Chidaotoh keeps his tanks still, acquiring targets, until the Indonesians begin to cross the final meters into gun range. Both tanks bear the same cannon, and both will be able to open fire at roughly the same time... he intends to gain the benefit of good aim and hope that the Indonesians maintain a reckless speed so their own fire will be made more difficult.

The lead T-92s begin to fire, joined by comrades scattered along the roadside slopes, though at this distance the angle is likely insufficient to score hits against weaker side armour. Autoloaders whirr as they jam new rounds into place, but as the battle continues a weakness becomes apparent, as a motivated and well-trained crew can load a new round a half-second faster than can Strainist automation.

Liberation Group North’s advance continues slowly, its foot infantry forced to split from its vehicle units and pursue the remnants of the Uhud regiment into the western hills, while tanks and mechanized rifles deal with small delaying actions as they crawl along the roads through Langsa and beyond.

Liberation Group South’s tanks and mechanized infantry pause only to pick their way through the rubble before pressing onward past Tapaktuan, leaving the task of gathering up survivors and marking salvageable Leopards to truck-mounted regular infantry. Many of these lose their mobility as their trucks are escorted back down the road to prison camps in Sujava.

In the air, SRA Viggens fare poorly in the face of massed missile attacks. A good pilot can dodge two missiles at once, perhaps three, but certainly not four. Early missiles are distracted by countermeasures, but these are soon expended, as are the Strainist’s own missiles. A pair tries to flee back into Sujavan airspace, hopeful that air defense batteries such as the one near Medan can protect them. The others throttle up in an attempt to close to gun range with the enemy as soon as their last missiles are away. Casualties are heavy, with the squadron cut in half in the initial exchange.

Glorious Wisdom Education Camp, central Sumatra

The first medivac helicopters and trucks of disarmed Acehnese begin to arrive at Glorious Wisdom, prepared in advance for their arrival. Bunkhouses and extensive hospital facilities, as well as schools for indoctrination and vegetable garden plots, await behind its fences and concrete moat. It was built to house five thousand prisoners, with sister camps further south to accept any POW overflow from the campaign in Aceh, though these did not possess the capable burn treatment staff of Glorious Wisdom. A handful of prisoners were already present, local criminals guilty of crimes from assault to bankruptcy, and the camp was garrisoned with one guard for every ten expected prisoners, though if matters faltered at the front these would likely be re-positioned.

Reaching the large gatehouse of the camp, each prisoner is registered individually, and given the choice that faces all Strainist criminals: they may accept re-education to correct their ‘wrong behaviours’, or they may choose to commit suicide. To the Lyongese, this is a traditional blessing, a final chance to atone for sin and failure by returning one’s soul to the cycle of reincarnation, hopefully to be reborn as a less flawed individual. The Sujavans lack the same cultural basis, but it is practiced nonetheless, an administrative function to spare the Party the expense of another criminal undergoing re-education.

Given the extensive use of fuel-air explosives, the burn trauma ward of the prison hospital sees a large influx, but is unable to save all its charges... battlefield medicine has yet to adapt to the unique threat of thermobaric weapons, and by the time many arrive it is too late to do anything but make them comfortable.

Halmahera

Hindustani forces fighting in Indonesia can perhaps be considered some of the best troops in the theatre, many battle-tested and with good morale, but they are outnumbered by an increasing margin, tasked with securing a defensive cordon and keeping control of hundreds of Islamic Guard sailors, with limited supplies that will not likely last should fighting become more intense. This problem has been stalled somewhat through distribution of captured Indonesian weapons, but Galela’s armouries are more likely to hold SMGs and pistols than rifles and rockets.

Attempts are made to organize clear lines of withdrawal to the harbour, as caution is the better part of valour: if reinforcements cannot reach Galela, at least they can attempt to withdraw with their captured vessels. The retreat is not yet ordered, however... the tide might still be turned.

The airfield in the south is indeed near the limit of the Hindustani lines, with no more than a platoon present to secure it. Its barracks had been hit along with the rest in the initial attack, and a bomb had damaged the tarmac, preventing the direct delivery of reinforcements. Several Hindustanis spot the advancing Indonesians, but it buys them little more than the opening volleys in a firefight they are bound to lose. Those in outlying positions begin to fall back in the face of Indonesian assaults, under cover of an AA machine gun positioned in the field’s open control tower, joining their comrades in foxholes and barracks rubble near the tower’s base.

Reinforcements are enroute to Galela, though by sea and in paltry numbers... an SRA patrol squadron, one destroyer and two frigates, with land-attack cruise missiles and decks crawling with infantry (though between the three ships, this amounts to less than a hundred men).

Ambon

The heights and beaches in hand, the Hindustanis press their attack as quickly as can be managed, hoping to keep the defenders from properly entrenching themselves. Between Tanimbar and Bali, some ten thousand more SRA soldiers await a secure port so they might be delivered to the battlefields of Maluku and Sulawesi, and so the Indian marines concern themselves little with pursuit of enemy concentrations away from the city and its docks, leaving the matter until they are reinforced.

Indonesian Archipelago

Propaganda leaflets are released on all fronts, appearing in both Bahasa and local languages and with instructions to Strainist soldiers in Bahasa, Lyongese, and Urdu (erm, that is Hindustan’s dialect, or am I mixing my subcontinental languages again?). Aircraft, along with long-ranged artillery shells, ensure widespread dispersal. They are illustrated on one side with a man in Muslim garb leaning on the shoulder of an SRA rifleman, who is offering him a cup of coffee while both laugh at some shared joke, and on the other they are marked with a stylized Garuda bird over the flags of Spyr, Sujava, and Hindustan. Literally millions of these papers are printed and those not fired now are prepared for deployment in the coming weeks. Scattered amongst the simpler leaflets are glossy full-colour magazines, which amount to ‘tourist brochures’ underlining Sujava’s economic success in the post-Bonstock years, an indirect criticism of failures elsewhere. Several bombloads of these magazines go off ‘accidentally’ over Papua and Malaysian Borneo.

TO THE PEOPLE OF INDONESIA. When turning to the Revolutionary cause, you will be welcomed warmly and treated kindly by the Strainist Party. You will be reunited with your family and given medical treatment if you are sick. You will be rewarded if you guide us to any hidden weapons or bring us weapons information. You will enjoy other rights and privileges to start a new life for you and your family.
TO THE SOLDIERS AND OFFICIALS OF THE STRAINIST PARTY & INTERNATIONAL ALLIES: The bearer of this pass is to be treated humanely, cared for and delivered out of the combat zone so they might begin life anew on a righteous path. The bearer is to be assisted in retrieving weapons, and granted a receipt for all weapons so delivered, to be honoured by the Strainist Party following the cessation of hostilities.
INSTRUCTIONS FOR SAFE CONDUCT TO THE REVOLUTIONARY CAUSE: Friends, you may report to any official at any Strainist Party office, or to any of the armed forces of the Strainist Party or its international Allies. They will be glad to receive you. But, for your own safety, please follow the procedure below:
-1. Hide your weapons. You can later guide soldiers of the Strainist Revolutionary Army to their location for a reward.
-2. If you report to a military unit or a Party official and you are carrying a weapon, please do so during daylight. To show your good faith, you should produce this leaflet if you have a copy. But, if you do not have a leaflet, report to us anyway.
-3. When reporting, please raise your hands above your head to show that you sincerely wish to turn to the Revolutionary cause and begin a life of safety & prosperity.

Portable loudspeakers and radio broadcasters moving with Strainist troops provide similar advisories, extolling the enemy to surrender or to arrest his feudal oppressors and unite with his true comrades under the aegis of Islamic socialism through the Strainist Party.

Balikpapan

The two remaining Hawks, their pilots extremely excited about their victory against the Spyrian carrier, don't last much longer at all, and both are completely destroyed by Mistral fire from the Leanders as they come about. That said, they had performed beyond all reasonable expectations, and it will soon be reported in areas still under Kalla's sway that a Spyrian fleet carrier had been sent to the bottom by five martyrs in the Makassar Strait. Never mind, of course, the fact that Spyr doesn't operate any ships of that type, and that the vessel sunk was a converted cargo ship lacking military-quality damage control and even the rudiments of armor.

Not too far away, the Indonesian Harriers cling to survival in a low-altitude turning engagement, their Sidewinders finally spent. Three of the jump jets are shot down in quick succession, their pilots attempting to flee back to Samarinda and being overtaken by the much faster Sukhois. The other two manouver hard for firing position, at the same time trying to avoid the guns of the Spyrian jets, and meanwhile running dangerously low on fuel. They still have several minutes of fighting in them, though, and the pilots try to make that short amount of time count for as much as possible. However, both have suffered cannon damage, and it cannot possibly be long before the overwhelmingly superior Spyrian numbers down the last two. Like the Hawks, though, the Harriers have performed past expectations, paving the way for an unopposed A-10 strike against the naval infantry advancing against the town. No.105 Squadron will doubtless go down in history as an effective unit, doing its very best against heavy odds and making significant headway before being overcome.

On the ground, though, combat continues to favor the Spyrians. Fears of a seaborne invasion are reinforced by the pillar of smoke now visible over the horizon, and by the incoming helicopters delivering troops to the abandoned oil rigs, which nobody had seen fit to booby trap. Poor radio communications also take their toll, with the units deployed facing the strait still resolute in their belief that the fighting inland is of little consequence. That Balikpapan's defense now counts fewer than 2,000 able-bodied men is lost on every major commander, and as the majors and colonels argue over likely landing beaches, junior officers experience the complete destruction of their units at the hands of the well-trained naval infantrymen, reinforcements by no means forthcoming. Apparently the A-10s had not managed to communicate their observations to the coastal defenses, as a tank sighting would surely shift defensive focus, but with those very same aircraft refuelling and rearming at Samarinda, there is at least something to look forward to. That is, unless the A-10s return too late, and find the Indonesians on the waterfront under direct attack.

By now aware of the threat to Balikpapan, units of the Hira Regiment stationed both further inland and elsewhere along the coast begin to move on the town in company-sized groups, more often than not travelling on foot. The lucky ones get to ride aboard requisitioned pickup trucks and buses, and three motorized columns set out from Samarinda by noontime. Hopefully, the unarmored, heavily overloaded vehicles will not be the focus of any air attacks or naval bombardments, and the nearly 2,000 men headed to the relief of Balikpapan will be able to get their without loss in transit. Even if the defenses are overrun by then, the influx of so many fresh Indonesian troops might just kick the amphibious infantry out of the vital town. More immediate assistance heads south in the form of 20 UH-1s out of Samarinda, part of the Hira Regiment's aviation component, carrying three companies of infantry (about 250 troops) plus a pair of RBS-70 teams. These head towards Balikpapan's airfield, the best place to set down, believing it to be secure.

Makassar

When the first Spyrian infantrymen start entering the Indonesian trenches from the rear, the fight is over for the Caliph Regiment. Those towards the back, supposedly covered by Ujung Pandang, are mostly without ammunition, sent to where they could most easily hunt for discarded clips. The sudden sight of enemy troops charging them with bayonets fixed is enough to send those who aren't killed reeling back towards the front of the lines in disarray. There is even less safety there, as the main body of Spyrians crests the hill and enters the first row of trenches. M-16s are of little use in the narrow confines, and the rifle's puny bayonet shouldn't cause the Spyrians much worry, especially considering that the Indonesians aren't trained how to use it. Most of the defenders did not even take a bayonet, concerned instead with a rapid exit from their bombarded barracks, and the plastic M-16 does not lend itself to use as a club. Surprised, desperate resistance soon turns into an all-out flight from the front lines. Some men continue to fight with determination, and the wide dispersal of Ultimax LMGs makes clearing the trenches and battlements extremely dangerous. One company even attempts a counter-charge, emerging from its position towards the center of the trench network with machine-gunners in the lead. It is not long before these men too are all killed, wounded, or forced to seek cover, and such acts are very much the exception. Those retreating from the front of the earthworks soon meet those running from the back, and not long afterword run into their Spyrian pursuers. With their escape route blocked, the Indonesians begin to surrender in large groups, and the battle steadily winds down.

Ujung Pandang, by now not much more than a pile of rubble, is still occupied by its small garrison, which refuses to surrender and proudly flies the IRI's flag from a length of pipe wedged in between several pieces of wall. Machine gunners and riflemen prepare to fight to the death, should Spyrian infantry attempt to clear-out the fort, but if it continues to face concentrated bombardment there really isn't much that can be done. Some of the wounded are withdrawn from the fort, carried down hillsides by civillian stretcher bearers, but the greater portion continues to languish in still-intact corridors and shelters, with almost no medical attention and the threat of collapse a constant one. Many die in such conditions who would have been saved by better and more immediate medical attention, but many of the doctors were killed early in the bombardment, or are themselves among the wounded.

By this time, the Hunayn Regiment, or what is left of it, is well north of Makassar itself, headed for Central Sulawesi as fast as possible, before significant aerial assets can be committed to its destruction.

The dogfight also begins to peter out, with two Gripens falling to earth as their RM12 engines are starved of fuel, the third choosing to disengage while the Spyrians busy themselves with avoiding the Sidewinders. This aircraft drops to extremely low altitude and attempts to sneak north, hiding amongst ground clutter. With nine of their number downed, and another three suffering from various degrees of damage, the Tomcats also choose to disengage. They try to sprint out of the area at high speed, folding wings and lighting afterburners in a bid to outrun the possibly slower Spyrian jets, and make for the relative safety of Manado. Early success are, of course, overshadowed by the loss of so many aircraft, and there will be no victory celebrations for the two aircraft lucky enough to have downed a Sukhoi and survived the engagement.

Kendawangan

Viggens appearing over Kendawangan are quick to swoop in for the attack, by now aware of the city's fall from numerous front-line reports. FFARs are poured indiscriminately into the town in an effort to kill some Strainist soldiers, the likes of which the fast-moving fighter pilots cannot be bothered to go searching for. In spite of this, three are still claimed by ground fire, and two parachutes appear above the fires while the third aircraft struggles west for a while, eventually nosing-over into the jungle. Another four Hawks are claimed by the Nane before they have a chance to deploy their ordnance, but the remaining three survive long enough to make attack runs on the hard-manouvering landing craft. By now more concerned with survival than with making a successful strike, these pilots do not bother too much with accuracy, and after accosting perhaps one or two landing craft with gunfire and poorly-delivered cluster bombs flee towards Pontianak as fast as their Adours will let them. It certainly isn't enough to outrun more Spyrian SAMs. The Todaks, meanwhile, reach the shore, and slowly head back towards the more secure climes of Banjarmasin.

Retreating motorized columns continue to harrass advancing Strainist infantry, although they can hardly be said to emerge the better from these engagements. Ambushes are set-up along jungle roads with Matador missiles and land mines, the Islamic Guard's staple antitank weaponry, and some nasty firefights take place as the Indonesians try to block the breakout from the Kendawangan beachhead. This fails, as most ambush positions are quickly exposed and destroyed, lured into firing their Matadors at any enemy vehicle. Still, the Telukbatang column continues to push south along the coast, machine gun-armed pickups in the lead, and the occasional UH-1 makes a sortie close to Kendangawan for the sake of reconaissance. Informed by the disheviled commanders of earlier expeditions, this latest column moves very cautiously, on the lookout for enemy ambushes and ready to turn-tail should the enemy prove too strong to overcome. Friendly-fire casualties continue to be high, as the Yathrib Regiment's counterattacking columns run into their own ambush parties, suffering from an acute lack of functional radios. A few Hueys are also brought down by RBS-70 operators, understandably mistaking them for Sujavan examples likewise captured from the FRB.

The most defensible area in southern Kalimantan continues to be Banjarmasin, whose sultan spends most of his time reinforcing his defenses and suring-up his already strong position.

Balikpapan

Indonesian aircraft over Balikpapan have indeed performed beyond expectations, particularly amongst an SRA command which had thought that the scale and surprise of its assaults would have shaken Kalla’s soldiers into a cautious stance. There is nervousness amongst tacticians in Sujava, for the Party has always followed the adage “Reinforce success, correct failure”, and to an organization which punishes bad business decisions with terms in labour camps, military mistakes will likely cause heads to roll. Though the air battle continues for a time, the Sukhoi craft losing another of their number as they maneuver against the Harriers, the Strainists have a victory of sorts. But, it should have been a BETTER victory, that is certain. Another three Su-35s are forced to turn for home after the engagement, combat having left their tanks too drained to loiter about much longer, while the remaining craft begin to search for the inevitable return of the A-10s. It is these who spot the incoming airborne contingent, and inform the commanders on the ground.

In the city, SRA troops are growing increasingly fatigued despite their successes, and concerns begin over Indonesian reinforcements arriving from the rear. The dreaded A-10s gone, the handful of remaining tanks scurry for the shelter of buildings, where their crews attempt to conceal them in firing positions so they might surprise approaching inland units. However, the screen at the back of the Strainist force remains light, with the majority of troops still pressing further into the city, trying to get the most out of the lack of concentrated resistance. Propaganda also begins as much as possible amongst the city’s population... while IRI economic ruin has seen the formerly obvious class divide between wealthy oil managers and impoverished workers narrow (with the wealthy Singaporeans fleeing homeward), efforts are still made to awaken the people to the Strainist dream. Remember the days of white-and-red Federal Shell buildings gleaming on the shore, villas and hotel towers on the hills, money flowing freely through the markets? We shall make that prosperity come again, only this time it shall be the people of Balikpapan, not the Singaporeans, who reap the rewards.

The airport at Balikpapan is a substantial facility, located on the coast a few kilometres eastward of the city and thus outside the area of the initial assault. Plans had been laid to use reinforcements to secure it, but the sight of incoming airborne units should have lit warning lights and sent infantry scurrying for the facility. But, a misunderstanding between SRA elements leaves the important objective free of Strainist presence.
After radioing down information on his sighting, the commander of the aircraft over Balikpapan dismisses it from his mind... his planes need to conserve their remaining fuel and ammunition for the more dangerous A-10s that will likely return soon, and the request for ground troops to act against the incoming Hueys was implicit in the fact that he called to inform them of it. The infantry commanders, however, do not share this implicit assumption... the Su-35s are meant to deal with incoming aircraft, and surely after allowing a wave of tank hunters through they will have become more diligent in hunting down this new threat. Thus, neither force responds as it should, and the Hira Regiment’s troops are left unopposed save for occasional machine gun fire as they pass over the Strainist rear.

Up the Makassar strait towards Balikpapan, a destroyer and a frigate move to join the three escorts now left with nothing to guard but a flaming hulk. Their first goal is the retrieval of survivors still in the water, where spilled oil and aviation fuel are causing casualties even where not in open flame. Their second is to protect a new charge... a re-comissioned ‘barracks ship’ formerly of the FRB. Aboard its bulk, still scrawled with the anti-Bonstock grafitti and with many doors still punctured by the bullet holes which once opened the locks to free the Javanese conscripts within, come reinforcements for the assault on Balikpapan: an additional eight hundred men, along with light mortars and engineers to assist in securing and then defending the city. The vessel will attempt a landing along the coast north of the city, where Strainist marines have already ousted enemy presence, before being sent on a suicide mission of sorts to distract the City’s defenders.

Makassar

The battle in the city all but over, the Lyong-ti turns all of its guns to concentrate fire on the collapsed fortress of Ujung Pandang, continuing for several hours until it is certain that whatever has survived will be in no state to resist. Beneath the sight of this heavy bombardment, civilian ferry and cargo craft begin to arrive at Makassar, the first bearing engineers to repair damage to the port so the rest might land their forces. Altogether, some ten thousand additional troops are to be shipped in to Makassar, along with almost 30 Leopard 2 battle tanks, though the latter are heavy enough to limit their number to a handful in each wave. Prisoners taken in Makassar are loaded into the emptied ships and transported under guard to prepared prison camps in Sumatra.

Troops also begin to secure their beachhead by assembling defensive positions inland, Strainist and Hindustani troops soon meeting up to ensure their respective sectors are coordinated.

In the air, the Sukhoi craft pursue the fleeing aircraft, but either lose them amongst the ground clutter or due to differences in speed. The planes then return to loiter over Makassar in case of another enemy sortie.

Kendawangan

Strainist troops continue to advance, company-sized forward detachments tasked with clearing the way ahead of enemy ambushes. When they eventually run into their Yathrib regiment counterparts, the fighting will be fierce, with the remaining Strainist forces pushing ahead in three columns, to reinforce the forward units while simultaneously flanking the road in search of an advantage.

Three landing craft have been sunk by the time the last Hawk begins its retreat... not many, but more than had been predicted, the Hawk having been dismissed as a blind and obsolete machine which would pose no real threat.

Aceh

The Badr Regiment's lead Leopards open fire at about the same time as their Spyrian counterparts, although only five guns have a clear shot at the enemy owing to their awkward formation coming down the road. A single Leopard is knocked-out by fire from the T-92s, a shell passing through the turret ring and killing the crew almost instantly. Other tanks are luckier, and 120mm rounds impact more or less harmlessly on the thick front armor, the range being too extreme to score a penetration. Achenese gunners, well-drilled and many of them benefitting from Bonstockian training, soon loose another volley against the forward Spyrian elements, quicker than their opponents by virtue of human loaders but not terribly well-aimed. Seconds later, the foremost tanks begin to slow down, and further vehicles pull up and onto the road embankment, advancing abreast the five leaders. It is hoped that, by slowing down and increasing the number of hulls able to fire on the enemy vehicles, more hits will be scored and the attack will have more to show for itself. Smoke grenades, though, continue to be launched ahead of the column, in the mistaken belief that the T-92s lack good thermal imaging systems and therefore cannot see very far through obstructions like the smoke clouds.

Further back, the Badr Regiment's infantry contingent advances in two columns of around 750 men each along either side of the road, making slow and careful progress. By now considerably behind the Leopards, the columns are none the less intended to hit the expected single Strainist armored column, ideally being pinned-down by the Achenese tanks, from the sides with Matadors, a similar manouver to that being employed by that very same enemy. More likely, the infantrymen will encounter the concealed T-92s and Spyrian infantry and be forced back towards the ruined tank depot.

Forces moving northwest through Tapaktuan's shattered defenses meet no opposition for some time, most of the local Achenese troops having been spent in the town. About midway between Susoh and Kutanibong, though, this changes abruptly, with two battalions of the sultan of Aceh's men guarding the road towards Meulaboh. They are, however, very careful to keep their positions concealed, and try their best not to engage scouting units and flankers.

Surviving members of the Uhud Regiment are by no means keen to stand and fight, delaying detachments excepted. It is less like a retreat and more like a running race into the hills, every man for himself. While they might make some nasty surprises for unwary Strainist vehicles, the rear guard is quickly overcome, it being highly scattered and rarely consisting of more than a four-man fire team in any one place. The death toll climbs as many of these units opt to fight to the death, in the belief that they are buying their comrades time.

Aceh's Viggens are unquestionably the most successful of all the defenders. There is much celebration as half the enemy contacts disappear from the Achenese pilots' radar scopes, and although two of their own are lost, they are still in high spirits. Perhaps surprisingly, they do not engage the Sujavans head-on, but rather attempt to jockey for position above and behind their outnumbered enemies in a bid to reduce their own losses. Fortunately, they aren't aware of the heavy destruction meted-out to Tapaktuan and aren't driven to any rash action. As distances close, the last Sidewinders are expended and the Achenese go into battle with Oerlikon 30mm guns. They have enough fuel to stay in the air for some time longer, and fully intend to see the engagement through to its conclusion, however long that might take. Hopefully, it will be a victory, one to add to the Hawks' success at Balikpapan, and hopefully no Su-35s will show up until the Sujavan Viggens are dealt with. Now lacking AAMs, the Achenese won't stick around if the larger air superiority fighters arrive.

In Banda Aceh, the Achenese Sultan continues to plan his defense. The Tapaktuan-Kutacane-Langsa line isn't his only coast-to-cost roadblock, with another manned and ready running from Meulaboh to Takengon to Lhokseumawe. Although this one is manned by reservists, reinforced by only four battalions from the Sultan's Guard, they will be fairly well-informed by the time the Strainists reach the line, and lacking armor will be less inclined to engage in costly counterattacks. Then there is Banda Aceh itself, with its FRB-era seaward defenses, including coastal guns, lately and crudely modified to fire inland instead. Some 6,000 of the Sultan of Aceh's personal troops, the largest personal army in Indonesia besides Kalla's, are positioned in reinforced concrete blockhouses, trenchworks, and camoflauged bunkers, and await the arrival of the Strainist armor with AT-4 ATGWs and Matadors.

Halmahera

The Sultan of Jailolo's men, several times as many as the Indians, are quick to press their numerical advantage. A pair of archaic knee mortars are even brought into action, lobbing 50mm bombs at the paratroopers around the control tower as RPD machine guns spray the enemy positions with fire, covering the first attempt to rush the position. 60 Indonesians, armed with Carl Gustav M/45 SMGs and grenades, emerge from cover on the opposite side of the runway while the AA gun in the tower is distracted. They run like mad across the open space, firing wildly and hurling grenades as they go, but take heavy losses before they are even halfway there. As machine guns start sweeping the attack, cutting men down left and right, a whistle blow orders the survivors to return. 60, it seems, is not enough to overcome the position. If that is the case, though, there are 500 at the Sultan's disposal. Another whistle call and all at once, these men surge forth in a massive human wave, firing and tossing grenades in an attempt to dislodge its foreign defenders. The odds are firmly on the Indonesian side, after all, and the Sultan's commander doesn't consider it likely that all the Indonesians could be killed between the edge of the foliage and the Indian positions. After clearing-out the airfield, the Indonesians plan to swing north and destroy all the Indians along the water south of Galela.

Ambon

Pressed by thousands of Indian Marines, the troops in Ambon Town don't try too hard to hold their posts. Some of the better troops do dig in and fire their aged RPD and newer RPK machine guns into the advance, but most quit and try to escape across the Teluk Ambon in small boats. On their way out, the Indonesians are sure to make as much of a mess as possible. Anything flammable, from fuel to paint to old tires, is set on fire, while molotov cocktails are tossed into homes and warehouses. It is unfortunate that they lack heavy explosives, or else the guardsmen would have tried to destroy the harbor facilities themselves, however limited they are. Units retreating from Ambon Town mean to join-up with the remainder of the island's defenders in the larger, more mountainous portion of Ambon, where they might hope to hold-out considerably longer against enemy forces. Already they can drop mortar bombs into the Teluk Ambon from the southern extent of the hills, so any attempt to sail ships into a more favorable port can be contested in at least some capacity. Stragglers on the north side are ordered to further destroy the airfield at Pattimura, and set fire to its hangars and fuel supply.

Makassar

The Kadisiya Regiment having been dealt a great deal of damage over Makassar, there is no follow-up strike, and the handful of survivors return to Manado as soon as possible. Ujung Pandang, by now not much more than a big pile of rubble and scrap metal, finally surrenders to the Strainists, its last few dozen defenders raising the white flag about an hour after the capitulation of the earthworks. The city recieves the Strainist troops in a mixed light; certainly, nobody is unhappy about being rid of Kalla's authoritarianism, but neither are they overjoyed about having been bombarded. It will no doubt take time for the Spyrians to prove to the people of southern Sulawesi that they are a positive force in the region, and not another imperialist oppressor like Bonstock, but as of yet there are very few who are prepared to mount an armed resistance.

(OCC: Sorry I could only deal with one thing tonight. More tomorrow, for sure. ;) )

OOC: I do operate the Jindalee-- with its upgrade to increase sensitivity 'one-hundred fold'. Assume that it's amongst the better OTHR systems in the world, I guess. Seems that most of us claim as ours developments a few years out, such as the QEIII carriers, CVN-21s and Meteors. You should know, I issued a request to Royce for a Roycelandian fleet to mount defense of the north coast of Australasia, no response yet. I also dropped Quinntonia a line, in case he's interested. I made no request of him, anything he does is his own planning. Date-wise, this is before the attack on Buenos Aires, and the attempted gas-attack on Lybia. So, Fuel-Air Explosives would seem a tad extreme, really.

I asked this in the Discussion thread, but does anyone control the area around Akabania's Singapore? Because if not, I'm turning it into a naval base, pronto. ;P

IC:

Raleigh, Australasia

Parliament Hall was in panic. The Knights Admiral had issued orders to withdraw Task Force Seraphim from the New Caledonia operation, and transmitted their apologies to the British on Wendselybury Islands. The reserves had been activated, and Expeditionary Group Four was being prepped for possible deployment to Indonesia, rather than Africa as planned.

Prime Minister Strathairn smoked reflectively on the balcony of his office, weighing the dangers involved in fighting a two-front war with the very real possibility of Strainists controlling the entire island chain and dominating the strategically vital area around Singapore-- one of Jackie Fisher's Five Points. It had long been a planned target of the Free Colony, the natural extension of its

That, of course, had been before the war. Australasia was now committed to a long, difficult struggle in Europe-- one which Strathairn was beginning to regret. But France would have to be dealt with sooner or later, and now had seemed like a decent time. With the Atlantic Fleet reporting the engagement of a superior French force, the navy of Australasia was committed.

"Jack," he said to his aide-du-jour. "Get me Royce I on the line, I need to speak with him."

SSKN Kukri-Knife, Arafura Sea

Commander Steve Luttrell was having a tense day. The Australasian government had taken no clear position on the invasion of the island chain, but the proximity and strategic importance of the territory Spyr stood to gain had them worried. To that end, the Knights Admiral had dispatched four attack submarines on a fact-finding mission to the Arafura Sea. They had been running active sonar from the moment that they had begun their trip, advertising their presence in every possible manner. Their coming had been preceeded by an official notice to the Strainist Party that offered no room for debate.

Luttrell, despite his relative inexperience, was placed in command of the small expedition. His orders were to monitor all movements by the Strainist and Hindustani assets in the area, and to only fire if fired upon. If fired upon, however, he was authorised to use all available force to defend his boat and those under his command, up to and including land strikes from his onboard Aborigine missile complement. If the submarine group was provoked, in essence, he had been given the tools with which to start something of a major dust-up.

"See anything?" This query was directed at the sonarman, whose ears were pressed to the headset and eyes glued to the screen. The junior officer shook his head absently, listening to the slow, rhythmic pulses of his array. It had been like this for the last few hours since the submarine group had entered the Arafura Sea, an area in which Strainist subs were suspected of operating. Nothing, nothing. Luttrell chewed his lip. He'd been directed to ascertain the location of the Strainist vessels, and they had been warned of his appearance.

"Officer of the deck," he said. "Make your course for the Banda Sea, ahead full." There was a momentary silence as the crew contemplated the idea of sticking their heads inside the Strainist Dragon's mouth.

"Make my course for the Banda sea, ahead full aye."

Raleigh, Australasia

It was early evening, a charmingly mild end to a beautiful summers' day in Raleigh. People were at home, getting ready to sit down to dinner. They were tuning in to FCBC (Free Colonial Broadcasting Company) to catch the news, eager to hear of victories over the French or falling gas prices, whichever came first. Instead, they saw Prime Minister Andrew Strathairn in a special address to the nation. He looked rather calm and put together-- the war was not yet harrying his office nor his sleep. He stood behind a temporary podium erected on the south lawn of his home and offices, joined by a pair of marine bodyguards and much of his cabinet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you all know about what has happened over the last few days. You have all heard about the sudden attack made upon the nation of Indonesia, and the use of ballistic missiles against a large city in the area, costing many lives. The Free Colony officially condemns the actions of the Strainist People's Republic, and urgently requests an end to the violence in Indonesia.

"It may seem hypocritical that I urge peace in Indonesia while waging a war against the French. However, the French have demonstrated a willingness to commit crimes against humanity, invade the territory of sovereign nations and disregard international law. The government of Mohammed Kalla, while not particularly healthy nor particularly free, has refrained from such displays. On the other hand, the Strainists have not. They have detonated thermobaric weapons over a major population centre, and have violated-- most grossly-- the borders of a largely nonthreatening neighbour.

"In doing so, the Strainists have shown that their intentions are hardly peaceful, and their desire to increase territory by subjugating others no different from that of Louis-Auguste of France. As of this moment, diplomatic and economic ties with the Sujavan Peoples' Republic and the Peoples' Republic of Spyr have been terminated. Colonial Military vessels will render no aid whatsoever to Spyrian or Sujavan naval vessels so long as this blatantly imperialist venture continues.

"But we also have erstwhile friends amongst the invading forces. The Indian National Union has seen fit to assist the Strainists in their conquest of Indonesia by contributing soldiers, naval vessels and aircraft. There was once a diplomatic tie between the INU and the Free Colony, but increasingly the INU has chosen the path of Imperialism favoured by its nearest neighbours. As such, all diplomatic, political and economic ties between the Indian National Union and the Free Colony of Australasia are hereby dissolved until such time as the INU removes itself from the conquest of Indonesia.

"These nations-- the INU and the PRS-- were once beacons of hope against truly oppressive regimes. Their forces were instrumental in toppling the Federated Republic of Bonstock. But the INU and the PRS have come a long way since then, their leaders have become enamoured with the idea of an empire. The Progressive Bloc is dead, and it dies mourned by many. For though a nation may dress itself in the trappings of socialist freedom, it can easily plot campaigns of aggression. This is what the INU and the PRS have done.

"The world needs a new progressivism, one truly dedicated to freedom-- economic as well as political. If the INU and the PRS are unwilling to embody progressivism, then it falls to others. Asia has long been the centre of cultural and intellectual development, from the Indus River Valley civilisation to the now-dead Progressive Bloc. But progressivism-- and indeed the cultural advancement which Asia has stood for for countless centuries-- is under a dual threat. Not just from the dying gasps of an imperialistic European Continent, but from the former Progressive Bloc.

"It falls to the Free Colony to embody that New Progressivism. It is a mantle that we already hold, as we work to free Africa and defend the democracies of the world against the French. It is a mantle that we will undertake if forced to in Asia as well. But I hope, as do all Australasians, that it does not come to that. I have hope that the INU and the PRS have simply misstepped. For I believe that the traditions established there have not truly died, but are sleeping.

"So, I ask of you, the people of the INU and the PRS. Do not submit to what your leaders tell you-- remember that your nations are yours more than anyone elses'. Your states are great, your people greater. Lead not the world to violence, but to continued harmony. Seek change from within, through encouraging peaceful demonstrations in Indonesia-- not from without by the sword and the gun. The world knows that it can work, even against great adversaries. The INU itself has shown that, when it threw off British rule. The Quinntonian civil rights leader Martin Luther King Junior showed us that, when he led a peaceful campaign for universal rights.

"We stand with you in search of peace, but stand against you in the study of conquest. So long as the invasion of Indonesia continues, we cannot stand together. But it need not continue, and we need not be separate."

Port Darwin, Australia, Australasia

Task Force Seraphim was dissolved without seeing combat, but in its place was formed Task Force Orange, made up of largely the same vessels. They were again under the command of Rear Admiral Alexander Alexander, and their task was the maritime patrol of the Timor and Arafura Seas.

It was much less a patrol, and much more a blockade. Augmented by a battlecruiser and two missile destroyers which had been rushed into service when the invasion began, Task Force Orange formed a distant blockade of the Banda and Java seas. Orange was composed of the entire Home Fleet, plus whatever auxiliary vessels could be had on hand. These included a few corvettes recently launched from Raleigh (RL Melbourne) naval yard, and a pair of attack submarines en-route from Buenos Aires. The full force, though small when compared to the entire Strainist Navy, was considered to be sufficient as a deterret to further southern expansion.

Admiral Alexander found himself increasingly at home on the flag bridge of the FCS Iron Duke. It was a wide, open space with a brilliant, commanding view of the sea located directly below the main bridge. He had an excellent view of the ship's 19" main battery, second only in size and power to the Lyong-ti's. Unless the Strainist vessels sought to engage, however, there would be no confrontation. And if there were, the eleven missile destroyers of the fleet would be tasked with the great battlewagon's destruction, not the guns of the Iron Duke. After all, the Drakens of Bonstock had been cut from much the same cloth as the big Strainist battleship, and they had met their death from missiles not unlike the Albacore ASMs of the Australasian fleet. So as his force cruised methodically in the Timor Sea, he sipped at his warm coffee and waited to see what the Strainists would do.

Ft. Cook, Australasian airbase, Croker Island, Australia

Ft. Cook was a collection of cavernous hangars, kilometres of tarmac and countless housing units. Aircraft of all kind snoozed in their designated areas, and 'round-the-clock training on the first squadron of Lancaster IIs took up the southernmost runway. AS-12s were being delivered in ones and twos weekly, while AS-6 Air Superiority Interceptors made their last patrols before being mothballed for future sale. AF/A-18F Super Hornets were by far the most numerous aircraft, much loved, but much outdated by newer, more capable designs. They too were slated for sale, but the outbreak of the war meant that they'd see another tour of duty or six before they were finally retired. Five AWACS/JSTARS jumbo-jets stood like oddly-shaped giants in a corner, making intermittant flights to ascertain the situation in Borneo. They were only used on rare occasions, the OTHR sufficing for almost all intel necessary for Raleigh.

The airbase was put onto high alert, though, and pilots began flying long-range patrols into the Timor and Arafura seas, as well as the edges of Sujavan airspace.

OOC2:
ORBAT for Task Force Orange:
1 BBN Victory class Battleship, FCS Iron Duke*
1 BCN Temeraire class Battlecruiser, FCS Wendselybury
1 CV Longbow class Carrier, FCS Ark Royal
4 CE Pellew class Fast Attack/Escort Cruiser
FCS Indomitible
FCS Inflexible
FCS Indefatigable
FCS Invulnerable
11 DDG Hermiod class Guided Missile Destroyer
FCS Cranbourne
FCS Melrose
FCS Merimbula
FCS Roycelandia
FCS Bunbury
FCS Wynyard
FCS Exmouth
FCS Mount Gambier
FCS Ballarat
FCS Mathilda
FCS Maryborough
4 SSKN Rapier class Attack Submarines (on detached duty to the Arafura Sea)
FCS Kukri-Knife
FCS Katana
FCS Longsword
FCS Machete
2 SSGN Thunderer class Guided Missile Submarines
FCS Zeus
FCS Thor
1 LHD Catapult class Landing Ship
FCS Ballista

NOTE: * Denotes flagship.

[OOC: A temporal question for you, LRR... so far, I’ve been trying to keep my posts within the first 24 hours or so of the first SRA strikes on Indonesia, and in most places things have worked out, but I’m not sure about how long a lot of the more intense firefights would have gone on, and if they would have What’s your judgement on how far things have progressed?]

Aceh

Group Center’s T-92s find themselves in an increasingly intense engagement with their counterparts from the Badr regiment, German-engineered guns on both sides becoming increasingly effective as range begins to close... several Strainist tanks fall victim to Badr shells, and these vehicles provide the same cover (and roadblocks) to SRA armour as counterpart casualties have had on the Indonesians.

In the mountains on either side of the road, flanking maneuver meets flanking maneuver while the tanks battle between them... here too the fighting is fierce, with units expecting to be hunting tanks forced instead to turn their weapons on approaching infantry. Cover is plentiful, and advancing under fire difficult on the rough terrain, weakening Strainist ability to push back the Indonesians. Further losses occur amongst the furthest foward T-92s concealed up the mountainside, whose attention and fire is occupied by the tanks below, and who thus make excellent targets for Matadors until the arrival of suppressive fire from accompanying infantry.

Groups both South and North continue their advances, albeit at a much slower pace than their initial assaults.

In the air, Strainist Su-35s and Gripens begin to appear in large numbers, three squadrons of the former and one of the latter closing in on the Indonesian Viggens. They are, unfortunately, too late to save their own Viggen comrades, who are simply unable to avoid their pursuers long enough for help to arrive.

If they can make it into range, the Strainist fighters will deploy long-range AAMs against enemy craft, with shorter-ranged missiles for a dogfight if they are able. The Su-35s also bear a pair of dumb bombs for bombardment of Aceh’s second defensive line, once the battle in the air is concluded.

Halmahera

Hindustani troops defending the airport put up as much of a fight as they are able, but Indonesian numerical superiority wins the day. Leaving a grenade to destroy the tower and machine gun, Hindustani survivors begin a rapid retreat back towards the town, hoping to meet with reinforcements.

Strainist ships just reaching the area are the only units free to act, Hindustani manpower already overstretched. While the soldiers occupying their decks make for motorboats that will carry them to shore, VLS tubes launch a volley of a half-dozen guided missiles towards the projected location of the Indonesians moving through the airport. Lacking detailed target information, the attack will likely delay rather than defeat the Indonesian flanking force, but even a few extra minutes will be vital in getting the Strainists to shore and into position before the Hindustanis are outflanked.

At Tanimbar, a dispute rages between Hindustani and Strainist elements as to where the next paratrooper wave ought be deployed. The former supports an immediate move to reinforce Galela, so the town might be held, while the latter favours a drop into Kao to secure the airfield and a foothold while the island’s defenders are distracted. In the end, the Hindustani CO wins out... both defenders and reinforcements are, after all, his men... and some 600 paratroopers are dispatched for deployment over Galela.

Ambon

Troops advancing through the city soon find themselves fighting fires rather than enemy soldiers, in an attempt to stop an inferno from consuming the important city.

Sabah & Sarawak

Strainist agents in Malayan Borneo step up their pre-war efforts at influence in the troubled Malay state, particularly its Bornean provinces. While ‘accidental’ arrival of Pro-Strainist propaganda serves as one way to build support, bribery of public officials is something that the Combine has already proven to be a capable tactic. An end to instability and poverty is promised, and much personal wealth besides, should a united Strainist Borneo emerge.

Makassar

As the sound of guns dies down, the Revolutionary Army is given a chance to prove that it deserves the name. Strainist doctrine dictates that revolutionary wars are fought against oppressors by an army that unites with the people, and for their campaign to succeed in Indonesia they must live up to this ideological demand.

Over the coming days, as increasing numbers of Strainist troops are offloaded at Makassar, their training for this goal becomes apparent. Soldiers become labourers in the service of reconstruction and local agriculture, officers become teachers (literacy a key aim, though the cloak of ideology certainly wraps their efforts). Doctors, nurses, and engineers arrive, in their bright-coloured uniforms, and supplies are distributed, to try and ensure that life is indeed better with the Strainists than it was before them.

http://img181.imageshack.us/img181/7623/garudafreesoupsa0.jpg

While such efforts are just beginning, however, military forces continue their maneuvers. Fresh troops shipped in from Java begin to fan out slowly in an expanding circle around Makassar, seeking enemy positions and garrisoning communities against a return of the Islamic Guard.

The Lyong-ti and several pickets depart after the fall of the fortress, steaming at full speed towards Banjarmasin... it is decided that the Sultan ought be reminded of the untenability of his position before he fortifies further.

Raleigh, Australasia

With much bowing and apology, the Australasians are informed that their presence in the Arafura and Timor seas is obviously tolerable, as these are international bodies, current movement towards the Banda Sea is unacceptable... violation of the Sea, seeing as it is part of Sujavan territorial waters, will be an act of war and will receive an appropriate response.

Beijing, China

Having already gained what they believe was Chinese approval for operations in Indonesia, Strainist diplomats begin to request political support from Beijing, seen as vital in deterring Western imperial encroachment into the Asian sphere.

While the war in Europe raged, a smaller struggle ensued in China's backyard - China's battle to keep Chingis under Chinese control, secure the region for an oil pipeline to the Combine, and deal with the ascent of Tsarist Russia all at once. Mohammed Kalla was a man who portrayed himself as part of an Islamic revolution. Beijing had evidence of aid send to Depkazia to assist the war against the Combine. This was beginning to irritate Beijing, and had the PRS not intervened, the Chinese Navy would have done so themselves, although in a more subtle manner, say, the sinking of a few Indonesian naval ships. Emperor Zhang thought it odd that Raleigh would jump to Kalla's support. It had been well known that he was not the greatest supporter of Australasia and the West, being the typical Islamic tyrant that he was.

General Chang makes a hasty phone call to Strathairn - In short, asking him to not put his foot in his mouth again as he did in Bihar. If there was ever a country in Asia that posed a threat to Australasia, it would be Indonesia. Chang ends the call by letting Strathairn know that Sujava has Beijing's support in this matter.

Beijing had a lot to consider regarding this - there was the matter of the safety of China's beleagured immigrants to Indonesia and the former FRB, as well as Indonesia's potential to threaten the Straits of Malacca. For now, Chinese approval of Sujava's actions would be kept fairly low-key to avoid disruption to trade through the straits.

[A few questions - How has Kalla generally treated the Chinese minority in Indonesia? Also, would Kalla's Indonesia have tensions with Australasia like RL i.e the Bali bombings, attacks on Australian citizens, and the Schapelle Corby case?]

[OOC: The specific Corby case is unlikely to have played out as it did... Bali is part of Sujava, with looser drug laws than RL Indonesia. After the fall of Bonstock, tourism into Indonesia slowed substantially except for Muslims, due to both fees and the risk of kidnapping.

If there were any dispute between AMW's Indonesia and other countries, it would likely involve kidnapping (of tourists foolhardy enough to visit Indonesia proper, as well as Papua, Borneo, and the southern Philippines) or piracy against commercial shipping in the waters around Indonesia.

To clarify geography a bit, based on the provinces of RL Indonesia:

Sujava
North Sumatra
Riau
Riau Islands
West Sumatra
Jambi
Bengkulu
South Sumatra
Lampung
Bangka-Belitung
Banten
Jakarta
West Java
Central Java
Yogyakarta
East Java
Bali
West Nusa Tenggara
East Nusa Tenggara (minus west Timor)
Maluku
[Misool Island, from West Iriyan Jaya]

Indonesia
Aceh
West Kalimantan
Central Kalimantan
South Kalimantan
East Kalimantan
West Sulawesi
Central Sulawesi
South Sulawesi
South East Sulawesi
Gorontalo
North Sulawesi
North Maluku
[Waiego, Batanta, Salawati, Raja Ampat Islands, from West Iriyan Jaya]

Papua
Irian Jaya/Papua
West Irian Jaya (minus islands)
[also includes Papua New Guinea]

Timor
Timor island (both East Timor and the western portion under RL Indonesian control).

Malaya and Singapore not included as they are generally close to their RL geography in their post-Bonstock forms.]

[OOC: I'm a little confused as to dates; I suspect that this RP is before Akabania's foundation, and so want to double check before I think about posting IC. Are these events taking place in June of 2006, or is the AMW timeline substantially ahead/behind RL time at this point? Also, could someone let me know roughly how many years have passed since Bonstock collapsed...]

[OOC: The date is a bit nebulous in the greater picture... it is more to give a base for comparison between events here and in the ongoing Iron West/Dark Continent threads in the Atlantic and Africa.
It isn't related to time in RL, so how it relates to events outside 'WWIII' depends pretty much on where the initiators of such events have placed them in that context.

I'm not sure on exactly when Bonstock collapsed... I'd say that the FRB's fall marked the end of the 1990s, possibly '98 or '99, as a number of events happening simultaneous to it, or later than it, have since been bumped back to make room for new events].

Thousands of miles away, deep on the Asian mainland, a man calling himself President Chingiz, Emperor Depkazi the First, Commander of the Faithful and Successor of the Prophet of the Lord of the Universe, King of the Strugglers, Khan of Khans, and much, much more was addressing new audiences with the vitriol and passion of a young man who'd finally made it, and was now in a position to actively pursue his wildest dreams. North Pakistan was being asked to hear his appeal on behalf of the greater community of Islam, which had been abandoned by the secular dictator who controlled so many of its most holy sites, was under attack by communists on sevearl sides so close to home, and now was being bombarded even on the islands of the far southeast. You did not have to be radical, in the past, he said, but you most certainly do, now.

Primarily, Chingiz was concerned with securing North Pakistan -his true ambition in raising a jihadi army against the Maharaja in Kashmir- but it is not hard to see that he hopes to find in Pakistan the means to send fighters back to Indonesia to make sure that potentially hostile foreign powers have a long-term problem on their hands in that relatively distant theatre. He's going to need that to be the case, in light of his remaining plans on the continent.

Serious attempts begin to channel funds and arms, the latter generally through contact with the INU's underworld and tribal authorities, to the Indonesian cause. Perhaps too late for Kalla, but, does Chingiz really care about him?

The Depkazi Khalifate must be joined, apparently, for the protection of all, and must carry its shield over what remains of the Muslim world.

OOC: The tension between RL Indonesia and Australia is certainly reflected by Kalla's government and myself, but better the devil you know. To wit, Kalla could have been dealt with any time by the Home Fleet, at least navally. So long as he stays on his islands, I don't much care. The problem that I have ICly with the PRS/Sujavan Strainist actions here is that I now have a large bloc that controls important shipping lanes, ones which will be a subject of inevitable conflict. I'd rather have Kalla there, paper tiger that he was, than the much more professional PRS Navy.

IC:

Raliegh, Australasia

Strathairn's response to Zhang's message was rather cold. He informed the Chinese general in no uncertain terms that the Free Colony was not Beijing's lapdog, nor was it particularly concerned with Beijing's attitude. Friendly relations were important, but there were other sources of such things as the BAE Meteor in the world, and they were much more accommodating. Furthermore, it was hardly Beijing's place to dictate which issues Raleigh chose to take sides on, much less which side the capitol of the Free Colony decided to take. The call was ended with the gentle, but firm click of Strathairn's phone in its crade.

And then he called the government of the PRS, assuring them that no hostile moves would be made. However, Australasians firmly believed in Hugo Grotius' theory of Mare Liberum, and while they would respect the wishes of the PRS in this matter, they would do so with a certain amount of irritation.

Edge of the Banda Sea, elsewhere

Despite Raleigh's brave words, the submarine scouting group contented themselves with the occasional peek into the Banda Sea's recognized borders, blasting their active sonar in an attempt to locate nearby PRS submarines. Their position-- rotating between the strait joining Tanimbar and Aru and that which interposed itself between Aru and Papua-- was both easy to determine and mostly constant, while ASW helicopters of the LHD Ballista patrolled the Lesser Sunda Islands and the strait between Timor and Tanimbar.

The area was also watched from the Jindalee OTHR, and every aircraft movement was meticulously tracked and occasionally watched by Super Hornets from extreme range. As the BVRAAM supplies streamed in from China-- as well as the ALRAAMs of Roycelandia-- the Australasian fighters even achieved the ability to strike at PRS aircraft from beyond their ability to hit back, at least for the moment. It was suspected that China would one day begin arming the PRS, if it didn't do so already.

Paranoia was setting in in the Free Colony. Political analysts had expected this kind of attack for years, but the general public had felt itself safe enough. Now-- the fear went-- if the PRS was able to level such strength against Kalla, what was to stop them from doing so upon Australia? Nevermind that the Home Fleet was nearly equal to the PRS/Hindustani forces in the area, people were panicking. It was a genuine Red Scare, and the government was having a tough time keeping things in order.

37 km west of the Strait of Makassar

The Destroyers Cranbourne and Mount Gambier had been dispatched to try their luck in the Strait of Makassar. Their orders-- open to loose interpretation-- were to 'determine the Strainist strength in the Makassar Strait, such Strait being vital to the interests of the Nation, to travel into such Strait as is deemed safe, engage not the forces of the Strainist/Hindustani navy, and determine the stability of Malaya and the political receptiveness of the Shireikanate of Akabania and the government of Malaysia to National presence'.

Captain Fellowes of the Mount Gambier was senior officer; a dedicated cruizer captain. (As distinguished from cruiser, the class of ship. Cruizer is an Australasian term for small, independant warships of DDA/G and CE/G classes). He was tall and regal looking, and could trace his line back to that of John Jervis, Lord St. Vincent. Fellowes had none of Jervis' weight or sagging face, though, and was the picture of the gentleman officer.

He was also known as a pragmatic but adventurous commander, and as such had been considered the most apt man for the job.

"Lieutenant Davies, make for the Makassar Strait." Fellowes paced the bridge, disdaining his command chair. "Beat to Quarters and load weapons." It was a relatively normal command for Australasian warships seeking to enter disputed territory-- as they sometimes did without announcement. It wasn't a particularly unfamiliar circumstance for the PRS, no doubt having had to deal with the occasional overzealous Free Colonial Navy commander.

"Aye, sir. Beat to quarters! Load weapons!" The familiar sound of the drums-- actually broadcast from a real drummer-- filled the ship. Crewmen ran to their stations, clearing away any unecessary equipment as the Mount Gambier and her sister made ready for possible combat.

As with the submarine-scout group, the two destroyers were issued standing orders to back down in the face of aggression, but Captain Fellowes was given significantly more leeway in regards to what was considered 'aggression'. Most likely, it would require either violence or the immediate threat of violence to remove the destroyer squadron, and then only in the face of a clearly superior force.

Australasia had no intention of causing a war which it could not win against an erstwhile ally, but it certainly had designs on the area-- specifically upon the first of Fisher's Five Points.

(OCC: I wouldn't imagine that it is long past noon on the first day, but the issue of real time has always confused me. Most of what is going on looks like it fits that time-frame, with the exception of the battles around Kendawangan, where I've introduced units from relatively far away.

None of the fighting is apt to last for too long, with the Indonesians taking losses on all fronts.

IC post tomorrow.)

OOC: I had imagined that we were somewhat into day three, for whatever reason. That was how I'd redeployed a full fleet with new orders, as well as had two DDGs get from northern West Australia to the Makassar Strait. Uhm, I guess they could have been out on patrol and had their orders radioed to them?

Just a Tag and a note to the effect that a Roycelandian fleet is en route to the Torres Strait to assist the Australians in maintaining their borders etc...

[I believe we may need a Malaysian player some time soon, since China may be looking at repairing relations destroyed by the Sinoese]

Despite Straitharn's rhetoric, Zhang learned later that his call to convince Australasia not to act rashly had suceeded. Perhaps Straitharn was not the aggressive bulldog the rest of the adminstration thought he was. He was in fact, quite sick of pretending to like the fellow and he would try his new brand of blunt diplomacy in the future.

In the first public announcement regarding the Indonesian war, General Chang announced the deployment of a Chinese fleet to monitor the conflict and protect international shipping, and to assist with aid delivery to newly-held Indonesian territories.

The Chinese fleet deployed will be lightly armed and consist largely of supply ships. It will stay in international waters at all times unless permission is obtained by the respective governments. The position of the fleet will be broadcast at all times, and there will be no forces capable of heavy power projection in order to avoid any tension that may result from this. The only armed vessels will be two cruisers and four destroyers in order to protect against the possibility of hostile Indonesia aircraft , sea-skimmers, and submarines.

General Chang also announced that Minister of Foreign Affairs Hu Jin Tao had asked to visit Malaysia.

Aceh

Achenese Leopards are of course eager to fight their Strainist enemies, and the battle at close range is soon characterized by a complete breakdown in the Indonesians' formation. Individual tanks often come into competition with each other as they jockey for favorable firing positions and attempt to score kills. Losses, however, mount steadily amongst the Badr Regiment's tanks, and more burned-out hulks are added to the scene on the road, a grim one as it is. With the colonel in command directly engaged with the T-92s, he of course does not notice as a captain, further back in the battle order and therefore able to think more clearly, absconds with the 12 vehicles under his charge. Mabye it is a cowardly act, abandoning the Regiment when heavily engaged, but it was a poor choice to begin with and the powerful MBTs are more valuable than personal honor as far as the Sultanate of Aceh is concerned. It is a shame that the Badr Regiment's colonel isn't similarly inclined, and the Sultan will, more likely than not, turn a blind eye to the captain's less than perfect regimental loyalty.

Things certainly go more smoothly on the sides of the road, where the highly mobile Achenese infantrymen catch the relatively lightly-armored T-92s in vulnerable positions. Matadors prove their worth beyond any doubt and the Badr Regiment's dismounted troops are able to outscore the tanks in one fell swoop. The arrival of Strainist infantry convinces the Indonesians to not press their luck, and they withdraw north along with the breakaway tank company. It won't do for the entirety of the regiment to be destroyed in a disastrous engagement with numerically-superior enemy forces in the first day of the war.

No.104 Squadron's luck runs out with the arrival of stronger Spyrian airborne elements. The squadron attempts to run for Banda Aceh, but by the time the Achenese pilots are aware of their new opponents the Strainists are in range with their more capable AAMs. Seven of the Viggens are downed, some exploding from direct hits while others are shredded by proximity-fused warheads, and another three take serious damage. The pilots are lucky, though, and most are able to eject and save themselves. They drift towards the ground in alien tranquility, safe for the moment. Down below, if they are not captured by advancing Strainist troops, the fliers will likely be issued with M-16s and sent to the front as infantry...a losing proposition either way, although without replacement aircraft there isn't much else that they would be doing. The survivors race north on full afterburner, hoping to outpace the fresh Strainist interceptors, although having already engaged in a lengthy dogfight with the other Viggens there isn't much gas left in the tanks. Aircraft hit by missile debris, and more often than not leaking aviation fuel, will be the escape's best hope for success as their pilots throttle-back and return to the enagement. Their outlook is particularly unfavorable, and the handful of hurting interceptors will not likely cause the Strainists very much trouble.

In Banda Aceh, preparations for a prolonged defense pick-up steam, with armories opening-up and all able-bodied Achenese, not just males, ordered to accept a rifle and a unit assignment.

http://img221.imageshack.us/img221/2738/pnngarudaday1ra9.gif

Aceh

Overall command of the SRA’s Aceh operations lay in the hands of General Sunabaya Sandi, a man with little patience for the Acehnese. Under the rule of the Federal Republic, he had grown up in a Javanese community in southern Sumatra, garrisoned by Acehnese conscripts, and his own service to Bonstock had come as a lieutenant in the Javanese-dominated garrison of Banda Aceh. These ethnic antagonisms had been exploited first by Singapore to secure its dictatorship, and then by Mohammed Kalla to draw Aceh out of Sujava and into his own Islamic state, and for many Sumatrans they were still difficult to shake off. For Sandi, Aceh’s decision to reject Sujava had been a rejection of ethnic peace, and the incessant border skirmishes of intervening years had done nothing to dispel this impression: the Acehnese had already knocked away the laurel branch, and they would now reap what they had sown.

The General was, however, not the sole voice of influence within the SRA’s Sumatran forces, a fact which was irking him increasingly. While the Strainists had never attempted to institute a truly democratic or communist structure for their armed forces, holding firmly to Confucian-influenced ideals of meritocracy, there were avenues for junior soldiers to express their opinions. While the officers of the Southern column were most favourable to him, being drawn from his pre-war command in Medan, news of Tapaktuan’s destruction was spreading quickly amongst other groups, who were not at all pleased at such a saturated attack on a community whose civil populace had neither been warned nor accounted for. Once the fighting stopped, the memorial essays would begin to arrive, calling for review by the Central Committee or more extreme measures... he would need to establish his credibility firmly before the fighting came to a close. Banda Aceh looked to be preparing to fight a long-term defence, one which would bog down conventional forces and slow repopulation efforts. But, the SRA had watched the troops of Tsar Wingert in the Baltics, and their observations had produced more than anti-feudal vitrol... what had worked in Tapaktuan would work elsewhere, with a simple adjustment of scale. And, he had to admit, it would help lessen the problem of the Acehnese, that was sure to loom large in the post-war period.

Liberation Group Center finds itself cursing despite its impending victory... the only group in Aceh accompanied by journalists, the intent had been to produce images of a glorious victory, not of T-92s smoking on mountainsides while their attackers scattered away from pursuit. An order goes out, commanding that the SRA’s tankers ‘unite with the unflinching Revolutionary will of the People to surmount all obstacles’... an order which, despite its flowery language, has little more merit than would the command ‘Fight harder!’ Those who were not giving their best have, for the most part, already been killed at this point.

The sight of tanks making a break away from the battle is greeted by speculation of a retreat, followed by deployment of Centre Group’s attack helicopter squadron. The helicopters, bearing ATGMs and rocket pods as well as their 30mm cannon, had been forced to hold back from the fighting due to worries they might overshadow the battle tanks. By the time it had been admitted that they ought play a greater role, the two sides were drawing too close for comfort, and so only rearguard and withdrawing Leopards risked Strainist missiles.
Ten helicopters, each bearing two Seonka ATGMs (‘whirlwind’, dreived from the 9K121 Vikhr), set out to engage the fleeing forces, with the infantry moving with them to be struck with rockets once guided missiles are expended.

In the air, SRA planes are relentless in their pursuit, continuing to pursue their targets with confidence that their prey will soon run short of fuel. As Indonesian aircraft turn back to attack, Strainist fighters join them with missiles and dogfights... wasteful, perhaps, but a small price to pay for air supremacy over the Indonesian archipelago. Afterburners grant a short boost in speed, but if the Acehnese Viggens manage a landing they will simply be bombed before they could re-arm or refuel.

Tarakan, northern Kalimantan

As battles rage to the south, perhaps Indonesian troops in northern Borneo count themselves lucky. That luck, however, does not last. Descending from Lyong at high speed, just above the surface of the water, come the Strainist’s three ground effect vehicles. They are in fact products of Soviet shipyards, rather than those of Lyong, and the fuel for their journey was purchased at a port on Taiwan, but the 200 soldiers borne within each are one and all members of the Revolutionary Army. Heavy equipment is lacking, to be sure, but it is hoped resistance will be light as these men leap from their strange craft in shallow waters and wade towards the shore.
Once their loads are away, the three craft set off again, for Jakarta, staying within sight of the shoreline alomg the Makassar Strait in hopes of instilling awe in the local populace.

Southern Makassar Strait

The Lyong-ti stops short of Banjarmasin, still some thirty kilometers away, and announces itself by the firing of initial volleys into shore defences... a warning of the vessel’s capabilities, though held short of assaults against points too close to civilian structures. Propaganda efforts aimed at Banjarmasin also begin to include footage of Ujung Pandang and its rapid descent into ruins beneath naval bombardment, alongside images of a happily abdicated Sultan of Yogyakarta and other prosperous Sujavans.

Northern Sulawesi

As night fell on the first day of fighting, another of the SRA’s passenger submarines slid to the surface and sent its soldiers ashore. These men, less than two dozen in all, were soldiers in a sense, though only half were truly devoted to the arts of battle. The rest were of a political nature, some Tordian preachers, others Party teachers and recruiters. Their task was infiltration of northern Sulawesi, to make contact with the Christian population there in hope of encouraging an uprising against the Islamic Guard. An end to poverty, to discrimination and forced military service, are promised to local leaders.
The submarine, its engines too loud to risk combat operations, then heads back towards Tanimbar.

Also heading in that direction were the submarines responsible for the assault on Balikpapan.... two heavy transport submarines and their attack escorts. The transports have one final mission, to sow confusion in Indonesian ranks and force the defenders to over-extend themselves. To this end, under cover of darkness, a volley of tube-launched cruise missiles is released towards pre-selected defenses along Sulawesi’s eastern coastline. Shore guns are a priority... hopefully the feint will divert units from the defense outside Makassar, and from Kendari.

Sabah and Sarawak, Malaya

In Sabah, and neighbouring Sarawak, presence of Strainist agents is becoming increasingly noticeable... Borneo was the longest-lasting base of the Parti Kommunista Bonstock after the failed leftist coup, and had not lost all such figures to the migrations that had occurred between Sujava and Indonesia in the early days. Representatives of the Party seek meetings with leaders of the major non-Malay ethnicities to discuss the future of the state. Plans are revealed, through which the region’s chronic unemployment and poverty might be combated should the Bornean states secede from Malaya and unite with Sujava... Borneo’s resources could mount Sujavan industries to new heights, and Sujavan money could develop the economy of Borneo until it achieves the state of prosperity that it deserves. Many of the Strainists involved in this campaign are drawn from Sujavan minorities... Balinese and Madurese in particular... to present a more liberated face than that of Malayan politics, dominated as it is by the large majority of peninsular Malay. Why let 90% of Borneo’s oil and profits be sucked by the leech of Kuala Lumpur, just to satisfy the mainland mob? Unite with an already-prosperous state, it is said, and rise with the greater whole to even further heights.

This effort is not, however, an attempt to encourage immediate secession... it is an effort to replicate here the black eye given by Kalla to Indonesia years ago, when he engineered the secession of Aceh during a national election. When the ballot boxes are next presented, it is thought, the seeds planted here will begin to grow, watered by the sight of Strainist-delivered prosperity in nearby Kalimantan... perhaps, should Heaven bless them, support shall be garnered to force just such an election sooner than later.

A secondary objective in Malayan Borneo is the bolstering of the armed forces... if the Indonesians press into the border troops as they flee SRA advances, they may well escape revolutionary justice. To this end, Strainist agents move to increase their influence amongst the Malayan soldiers, speaking of the amenities available to Revolutionary soldiers (including being paid on time, rather than months late), and offering to supplement the salaries of those units who join the SRA in its efforts to put down Mohammed Kalla and his Islamic Guard.

Beijing, China
As the Australasians had predicted, Strainist representatives in China begin to look into the possibility of acquiring beyond-visual-range missiles, as soon as possible. Though it is left unsaid, it is obvious that such ordnance would hardly be of use against the Indonesians.

With news of the Strainist appeal to Sabah and Sarawak reaching Beijing, the Strainist representatives in China are approached and asked about their future plans for Malaysia, namely whether regions dominated by the Malaysian Chinese could recieve some form of autonomy. Many in China believe that the Malaysian Chinese are persecuted despite them being the economic drivers of the nation and are still marginalised, in part due to Sino's rather heavyhanded actions through West Malaysia.

The United China Party, having formerly sponsored a branch in Malaysia back in the Liu period and before the war against Bonstock, still has a depth of links with the Chinese community in Malaysia (not in the form of a political party, but more along the lines of an ethnic association, churches, chinese language schools, etc nowadays) after a protection effort in response to ethnic retribution after the PLA's romp through West Malay, and would be likely to throw its weight behind a Strainist movement should promises of protection and an end to race-based policies eventuate.

The request for BVR missiles from Spyr has not met with any opposition from the administration, Lyong was strongly supportive of China during the saber-rattling with Tsarist Russia, and the PLAN was already allowing the entry of PRS vessels to refuel in Taiwan. It is almost certain then that General Chang will personally fast-track the paperwork for the delivery of anything the Spyrans wish to buy and finish the whole process within a couple of weeks, which is blisteringly fast for arms deals.

[I hope I haven't assumed too much there. Pre-Bonstock war there was a UCP seat in Malaysian parliament, and there was likely to have been some form of retribution against the Chinese since the Bonstock war. Obviously there is likely to be anger directed from both the Malaysian Chinese and native Malays towards China's actions in the past, but I'll RP this when Hu Jin Tao arrives]

[Also, we kinda do need a Malay player...hints at LRR]

OOC: Royce, I hope you don't mind if I post this. I guess we already dealt with this via TG, so I'll make it official and let people know about the ALRAAM deals. Do excuse the first section, it's just an excuse to clarify why I have BVR missiles in the event that China cuts me off. Also, I'm holding off on posting anything significant about Malaya before we have a player there-- I'd appreciate it if y'all would do the same, at least as far as this is concerned.

IC:

Footemouth, Australasian South America

"And a pleasure doing business with you, sir," Captain Salamanca Devon said with a smile. The Roik businessman-- dressed in a hawai'ian shirt and slacks-- puffed at his cigar cheerfully. He carried in his hand a signed contract, by which Imperial Aerospace would supply the Advanced Long Range Air-to-Air Missile (ALRAAM) to the Free Colonial Air Corps for a reduced price.

The ALRAAM was, unlike the Chinese BVRAAM, not a knockoff of the Meteor design. It had the same general characteristics, but boasted a very-slightly longer range and a similar no-escape-zone. While Australasia's supply of BVRAAM missiles remained steady, deteriorating relations with an oddly bellicose China suggested that a new source may soon be necessary. The Roik nodded and shook Sal's hand before leaving, flanked by two Imperial Guardsmen.

Sal was now the officer-in-charge of four-hundred ALRAAMs, which were to be delivered to a nearby airfield for immediate transport.

Raleigh

The Malayan government in Kuala Lampur recieved a message from the Free Colony, requesting discussion of a possible land-lease deal regarding the peninsula east of Singapore, specifically the protected harbour formed by the deep inlet there.
Map (http://www.footprint-adventures.co.uk/mapmalay/malays3.gif)

The carrot, of course, is a program of economic aid and development hilighting the 'further improvement' of national infrastructure, as well as regular and lucrative trade with the Free Colony. The eye is to economic development, but long-term, low interest loans are promised 'to aid in the furtherance of Malayan economic interests'. The first-- roughly five hundred thousand Pounds-- will be given should they choose to enter into 'serious negotiations', while more will come upon acceptance of the deal.

Obviously, a naval base would need to be built from scratch. While Australasia would set up its own base proper-- thank you very much-- there would be the inevitable need for road construction, unskilled labour and other logistical needs 'best filled by the people of Malaya'.

The inevitable stick takes the form of FCS Mount Gambier and FCS Cranbourne, which loiter uncomfortably off the coast of Kelang. They are officially there to negotiate-- and indeed the Mount Gambier carries an Australasian diplomatic team-- but they also carry hundreds of missiles and a pair of high-precision turrets. Neither make threatening moves, they just rise and fall with the gentle rocking of the ocean.

Deputy Foreign Minister Spader is dispatched to China for 'immediate diplomatic talks' with the Chinese government regarding the Southeast Asian situation. He requests a meeting with Minister Hu Jin Tao, although he rather expects to meet some minor functionary. His purpose isn't really to negotiate. Raleigh has largely given up on the idea of diplomacy with China outside of arms deals after Zhang's rather brusque treatment of the Prime Minister. Spader is there to convey Raleigh's-- and Strathairn's-- displeasure with the polite notice that BVRAAM purchases will be halted by the end of the month, due to 'the need to re-allocate funds'. It is, of course, not mentioned that said funds will be re-allocated to Roycelandian coffers. However, the Chinese were smart enough to see the writing on the wall.

Political analysts in the Free Colony wonder about China's current behaviour. It is seen as odd that they would so alienate a nation that had previously shown great willingness to buy Chinese weapons, especially by informing said nation's head of government that he was being an idiot. It was all well and good to signify displeasure, after all, but certain niceties had to be observed. Lecturing another first world nation's government is seen as bad form anywhere, most especially in proud Australasia.

Despite initial silence, the Japanese government finally issues a statement condemning the Sujavan invasion of Indonesia. The statement calls for the immediate cessation of hostilities and susbsequent talks between the two nations regarding any disputes. Aside from this, the government does not take any obvious public action.

Aikoku Toko, however, launches a harsh campaign condemning the Sujavans as puppets of the 'Lyong/Dra-pol Axis', claiming that this is the next step in a Communist plan to encircle Japan before invading and restoring the Ringist tyranny. Carefully stage-managed protests are organised at the Spyran embassy and consulates in Japan, organised by Aikoku Toko and overlooked by the JRP government. The protests do not cause any property damage, but the message is made clear; the protestors want Spyrans out of Japan.

On the diplomatic front, the government contacts the Australasians to compare notes and begin contingency plans.

OOC: I'd agree with holding off Malaysia posts until we have a player.

In the meeting with Spader, the Australasians recieve a surprisingly concilitary message from Hu Jin Tao. Mr Hu in the plainest terms suggests that General Chang's personal comments were not endorsed by the Emperor and does not represent the opinions of Beijing. In short, he offers a retraction of the comments by Chang but also states that China is not happy with Australasia's military buildup. Mr Hu is indifferent when he hears the BVRAAM deal will be cut short. The former communist party cadre has consistently opposed weapon deals to Roycelandian allies and was not happy when the deal was first announced given Australasia's divided loyalties.

Political analysts have put China's recent erratic behaviour in foreign policy to internal political unrest and political jockeying for power in the post-Zhang era. With foreign relations and republicanism the key issues, both men are trying to appeal to likely voters should the monarchy crumble which appears increasingly possible.

On Board the IRNS Nile Perch, Port Darwin

"... And then I said, "I really must get out of this wet uniform and into a dry Martini!" Captain The Honourable George Colthurst-St. Webley was well-known throughout the Imperial Navy for his amusing anecdotes and dry witticisms, and invitations to the Captain's Table on board his Fish-class Dreadnought, the IRNS Nile Perch, were highly sought after.

"Of course, I had no idea she was the Admiral's niece, but they both saw the funny side after a few drinks and a round of golf!"

Laughter all around, which was good.

Of course, Captain George (for he was always called Captain George) liked Australia. Darwin was a bit hot and muggy for him, but that's what air-conditioning was for. Even so, taking a fleet of Dreadnoughts and a couple of Carriers to guard the Torres Strait was weighing heavily upon his mind, and he was rather looking forward to retiring to his quarters that night to read a good book and maybe have a few drinks from his private selection of premium bourbons... Especially knowing that, with the world security situation in such a tenuous state, he and his fleet were between the metaphorical excrement and the fan should one decide to become acquainted with the other...

(OCC: I had a massive post written up, but I accidentally closed the window! Here's something (very belated) to work with for the time being...)

Aceh

The Badr Regiment's retreating tanks are massacred by Strainist attack helicopters, who catch them completely unawares and unable to defend themselves. If the attack helicopters were in range of their turret-top MG3s to begin with, the Leopards would still have a tough time downing them, so there is nothing they can do except drive north as fast as possible. Before they reach cover, nine of the twelve tanks are either completely destroyed or put out of action, and these the Achenese have no way of recovering.

Indonesian tankers in the main force are hardly better off, their number now reduced to 22 vehicles. With T-92s in front of them and to the sides of them, and with attack helicopters covering the way out, annihilation looks like the most probable course for the rest of the main force's tanks. Surrender is, of course, not an option for the fiercely independent Achenese, who hate the invaders with a passion. Competition for kills is still fierce, with one ace being made during the course of the battle, since blown-up in his vehicle by an enemy T-92. While the Bonstockian-built Leopards have certainly shown their worth, the Spyrian tanks are far too numerous and lack any major deficiencies that the Achenese can exploit to narrow the gap in numbers. It is only a matter of time before the last Leopards are knocked out, and after that the Central Column will be able to move towards Kutacane largely unmolested. Flanking infantry units, bloodied by Spyrian infantrymen, are not eager to stop and fight the Strainists again, especially not after they've broken-through the Regiment's Leopards. Their rifles will be of more use further north anyway, and they had already done better than was expected of them.

Viggens, meanwhile, are annihilated. Although No.104 Squadron had been king over Aceh for a little while, and bested a formation of Strainist fighters by a proud margin, fuel is low and no more missiles are left. Afterburners are disengaged as fuel gauges point ever more closely to empty, and once the Achenese fighters lose their speed, they are sitting ducks for Strainist missiles. No aircrafts survive to be bombed at Banda Aceh, although enough pilots eject to furnish the Yathrib Regiment with another infantry section.

After passing Tapaktuan, Langsa, and Kutacane, the Strainist columns will face relatively little resistance. They had, after all, more or less smashed through Aceh's first defensive line, and the Sultan did not have what could be called defense-in-depth until after the second line, the Meulaboh-Takengon-Lhokseumawe fortifications. These are also potentially easy, being manned primarily by conscripts and the shattered survivors of the first battles, but behind them are extensive minefields, machine gun nests, blockhouses, and anti-tank obstacles up to the very approaches to Banda Aceh itself. And there, the greater part of 7,500 heavily-armed Sultan's Guardsmen await the invaders with every confidence of victory. Banda Aceh is, by now, a veritable fortress, built-up in the years since independence from Bonstock.

The Sultan, however, is having second thoughts. Learning of what the Strainists did to Tapaktuan, he is quick to send a dispatch to the new authorities in Singapore. Might he, the Sultan asks, tie-up his boat there in the event that he is suddenly out of a home? He is not even based in the capital anymore, preferring the relative safety of Weh Island to the much more visible palace in Banda Aceh. With a personal bodyguard of 700 men, a pair of Cougar helicopters, and a handful of boats, the Sultan is prepared to flee at a moment's notice to just about anywhere. Although certainly easier, an accomodation with the Strainists is not an option, and doubtless resistance will continue whether the Sultan is there or not.

Halmahera

Victory at the airfield raises morale across the Indonesian lines, just as the Sultan had hoped, and the attack force, now reduced to 430 men, undertakes a reckless pursuit of the fleeing Hindustanis. Spyrian land-attack missiles account for a further 57 casualties, but commanders encourage their men onward, pointing to the harbor and the Indians. If they are quick, they might just be able to smash the enemy's southern lines, opening the way for an attack on a larger scale that could force the Indians out of the island completely. It falls to the Sultan's stretcher-bearers to recover the wounded, and they are removed from the battlefield on donkey carts and bicycles to an uncertain fate. While he might have a medical corps, Jailolo cannot offer his men anything besides a quick bandaging. Stores of morphine and other painkillers had long since been sold on the black market, and the Sultan would not drop the money for proper doctors.

Mortar and machine gun fire along the main Indonesian advance line intensifies as a number of probing attacks are mounted, hoping to locate a path through the Indian line so that it can be destroyed before reinforcements arrive.

Ambon

While happy with the fires they had caused, the Indonesian soldiers on Ambon now face the problem of evacuation. They certainly don't intend to try and hold the island against a force so much larger than their own, and no sea mines had arrived for the Teluk Ambon, denying them the opportunity to even the odds slightly. A small flotilla of boats is assembled at Liang for the trip to West Seram and safety, with the men holding Paso ordered to remain in position as the rest of the troops retreat. There must, after all, be at least the appearance of continued resistance if a gaggle of commandeered water taxis and fishing boats is to effectively cross open water to deliver several hundred Indonesian troops to safety. They cannot have Harriers and Lynxes strafing them the whole way to West Seram.

Tarakan

With things going bad enough in Balikpapan, and with the Yarmuk Regiment heavily defeated at Kendawangan, another landing at Tarakan is the last thing that the Indonesians need. By Indonesian standards the port at Tarakan is well-defended, home to 750 men from the Ridda Regiment, and, unlike their comrades in Kendawangan, Balikpapan, and Makassar, they are awake and battle-ready. Unfortunately, they are caught in the midst of forming a relief column for Balikpapan. The nature of the Spyrian attack takes the few Islamic Guardsmen watching the water by surprise, and the speed at which the enemy ekranoplans approach makes it impossible to call-up the rest of the defenders in time. CIS 12.7mm machine guns and more recently-imported 23mm weapons are fired against the incoming vehicles and the soldiers headed ashore, but hardened positions are entirely lacking. Coastal defenses are overrun before the would-be relief column can turn itself around and head back into the city. Ex-Bonstockian trucks armed with 12.7mm MGs lead the column, and are supported by a large number of similarly-equipped jeeps, but the Indonesians don't know where the Spyrians are and how many of them there are. Confused mention of enemy flying boats on the radio is correctly interpreted as an amphibious landing by ekranoplans, but intelligence is still lacking and initial contact with the Spyrians is highly costly. Before the largest group of guardsmen is ambushed while in unarmored trucks and jeeps, they are ordered to dismount, and make for their posts on foot. Motorized spearheads head towards the coast in an attempt to catch any stragglers unawares, and in order to defend against subsequent ekranoplan landings.

The Hawks of No.107 Squadron are meanwhile scrambled from the city's airfield, equipped with drop tanks for the flight to Samarinda. With enemy troops fast approaching, it is not considered a good idea to keep them nearby, and they might be of some use repelling the invasion of Balikpapan.

Kendawangan

Men of the Yarmuk Regiment continue to face terrible setbacks in their attempt to remove the Strainists from Kendawangan, with their ambushes being destroyed time and time again. Motorized columns are heavily defeated, and the decision is made to abandon the effort and concentrate on action further inland and to the east and west. Mines are scattered in the retreating Indonesians' wake, and trees are felled wherever possible to block the good roads through the forest. Several battalions withdraw towards Banjarmasin and its strong defenses, moving on foot, while others head for Pontianak, and they plan to wait for the Strainists in defensive positions at those two cities. Hopefully, the invasion will be pressured from elsewhere by then, because a few thousand men in Pontianak and a few thousand more in and headed to Banjarmasin should not expect to hold-out against similar or greater numbers of Spyrians and Sujavans, especially when they are supported by naval gun and missile fire.

Only one Hawk survives the attack against the Strainist amphibious forces, although, as was the case at Banjarmasin, their performance had not been altogether disappointing. This aircraft, miraculously undamaged, returns to Pontianak in good time, and is ordered off to Samarinda soon after its arrival. Viggens are less lucky, and all of them are downed by Strainist air superiority fighters before they can return to Banjarmasin.

Banjarmasin

The Spyrian battleship devastates Banjarmasin's defenses, although the Sultan's still-operational surface search radar gives at least some advance warning of the Lyong-ti's approach. Defenses are abandoned as troops rush to hardened bomb shelters or flee to the safety of the forest, and the few remnants of Bonstock's space program not brought down by aerial bombardment are destroyed by 20" shells. The sultan decides to launch his ballistic missile at Jakarta, concerned that if he doesn't, it will be destroyed in the bombardment. Rocket boosters roar and the missile lifts off its TEL, only to come crashing to earth minutes later, destroying a segment of Banjarmasin Town. It will no doubt be a surprise that the Sultan of Banjarmasin had a missile to begin with, but, given the fact that it was made of several Bonstockian missiles more or less stuck together, and was designed by a team of civil engineers, its failure shouldn't be all that stunning.

A pair of 203mm coastal guns, heavily-camoflauged and armored, are on hand to oppose the bombardment, although once they fire their fate is more or less sealed. The guns, installed by Bonstock to protect the rocket launching site and having survived dismantlement at the hands of Kalimantan's postwar occupiers, are directed by radar to the Lyong-ti's position, and open fire. It is doubtful that the guns will even reach the battleship, much less cause meaningful damage if they somehow manage to hit, but some hope that the Spyrians might reconsider their descision to use the one of a kind Lyong-ti once it starts to be threatened.

Balikpapan

The arrival of Huey-borne reinforcements coincides with the return of No.105 Squadron's A-10s, although they aren't quite as dangerous as they were the first time around. Helicopters fly very low and deposit the 250 Indonesian troops from Samarinda onto the airport tarmac, pulling up and away from the city as fast as possible. They had been very lucky to escape interception, and the pilots aren't eager to test their luck against Su-35s. It comes as a pleasant surprise that no machine gun fire meets the men of the Hira Regiment as they rush towards the terminal, control tower, and hangars, but the major in command of the force doesn't take long to realise the difficulty involved in reaching the troops manning shore defenses. Instead of trying to pick his way through the city, the major decides to occupy himself with sabotage of the airport facilities. Surely the Strainists would like to take Balikpapan's airport intact, and with the one in Samarinda still firmly in Indonesian hands, it is the only one available on this side of the Makassar Strait. Tarakan's airfield might very well fall, but there is as of yet no news of that in Balikpapan, very much concerned with its own problems. The Indonesians now at the airport lack lots of explosives, but there is plenty that they can accomplish with Matadors. Fuel dumps are hit with rockets and explode spectacularly, much to the amusement of the Hira Regiment's troops, while approach radars and other navigational aids are disabled with grenades. Two Fokker F27s still in the hangars are towed out onto the runway and set on fire, their wreckage being used to obstruct the runway just as the Burkinabe army had done in Ouagadougou. RBS-70 posts are set up as well, and they watch the horizon for the approach of Sujavan UH-1s, pointing seaward for fear of accidentally engaging friendly Hueys flying from inland.

The A-10s also fly in low, attempting to avoid interception at the hands of the freed-up Su-35s, and arrive over Balikpapan just as the sun begins to sink below the horizon. Not surprisingly, the troops on the ground direct them out to sea, believing the greatest threat to be from an enemy invasion fleet just waiting over the horizon. In a sense they are right, and if they are lucky, the five A-10s will find and sink the barracks ship. Quinntonian tests had shown the A-10's cannon able to badly damage frigates, and Mistrals are not entirely certain to upset the heavily-armored attack jets. Unfortunately for No.105 squadron's survivors, they lose the cover of ground clutter and become much more vulnerable to interception in their search for the enemy naval squadron.

Sulawesi

Several coastal artillery emplacements are knocked-out by the submarine-launched cruise missiles in the early evening, sending Indonesian soldiers, mainly from the Mecca Regiment, scrambling into shelters. When the supposed bombardment stops, troops rush to their posts, fully expecting an invasion. Coastal artillery, much of it still intact, is manned and readied for action, although most of the radar directors are out of order for one reason or another and the guns are only of use for relatively short-range engagements. 55 Flotilla's five Todak patrol boats also leave Manado on patrol, skirting the coast in an effort to sneak-up on the suspected amphibious task force, and the surviving Tomcats are fueled-up for a sortie over the Celebes Sea. The real invasion, on a vastly smaller scale, goes unnoticed as coastwatchers look for enemy ekranoplans and amphibious assault shipping. Between the darkness and the group's small size, it is able to land and make contact with sympathetic Indonesians.

Another battalion from the Mecca Regiment is sent back north to reinforce defenses on the Minahassa Peninsula, as Kalla now fears a northern landing in addition to the advance up from Makassar. The bulk of the regiment, though, continues south, with the goal of blocking the top of the South Peninsula and preventing a Strainist advance into the central part of the island.

As night falls, Kalla's personal guard, some 5,000 strong, turns out to watch the sky for enemy paratroopers and commandos, who might want to take advantage of the darkness in order to mount an attack on the head of state himself. While the exact location of Mohammed Kalla's fort is a closely-guarded secret, and every precaution has been taken to hide it from reconaissance sattelites, he can't be too certain that nobody in his entourage has sold him out. But even if such an attack was undertaken, its chances for success would be slim. Unlike much of the Islamic Guard, and certainly unlike the Sultans' personal armies, Kalla's bodyguard is made up of trained proffessionals, many drawn from the ranks of the Kopassus and other Bonstock-era elite units. While Kalla doesn't expect his regular forces to hold-out indefinately at the top of the South Peninsula, he does think it more or less likely that the fight for central Sulawesi will be long and hard for the Strainists and their allies, and it is in this battle that he intends to break the invaders' will to continue.

Mumbai

Parliament does not address Australasian protests, the memory of Raleigh's foot-dragging in the Philippines still fresh in many minds. It is seen as a better idea to ignore the Australasians, since they can't, after all, attack the allied invasion force and expect the world to turn a blind eye to it, or expect to come out the better for it militarily. And Parliamentarians aren't eager to have Strathairn ruin another long-delayed operation with empty threats and posturing. Australasia's prime minister can make vitriolic speeches until the cows come home, but the INU doesn't have to listen to him any more than the INU has to listen to Juan Carlos or Wingert. The arrival of Roycelandian dreadnoughts in Darwin does cause some alarm, and one of the IN's new Bodkin-class general warfare frigates, INS Vijay, is sent to reinforce the allied naval command at Tanimbar. After all, one never knows when Royce spots a chance to increase his imperial holdings, and a Roycelandian colony in the former Bonstock would not be acceptable.

Sydney, Australasia

Six men, well attired in three-piece suits and carrying non-descript briefcases, shared a cigar on the balcony of the 36th floor of the HSBC building in downtown Sydney. The 36th floor was nominally leased by Dorsey & Whitney LLP, a Minneapolis-based law firm. In reality, however, it was home to the covert leadership of the International Medical Brigade. The IMB was a well known organization loosely affiliated with the government of the Free Colony, similar to the USQ's Peace Corps. It was similar to the Red Cross, in that it functioned as an international aid organization, and was well known throughout the world.

IMB personnel were currently present in much of Africa, parts of Asia (there was a large concentration in Depakzia) and anywhere that they would be allowed in Europe. The public leadership-- the one people knew about-- was a board of well-respected doctors, aid workers, Nobel Laureates and political analysts. They appeared to direct the IMB's activities, assets and personnel to achieve the most with the least. They were respected. They were listened to. And they were completely powerless.

In reality, it was these six men who ran things. Their pseudonyms-- for they didn't know each other's names-- were Horatio, William, Louis, Arthur, John and Peter. They were employees of the government, that was all that they knew. They could see each other's faces, obviously, but nothng else besides.

The point of such secrecy wasn't particularly glamourous at first sight. Nothing, in fact, besides the running of the IMB. But the IMB was much more than a simple medical aid organization. Its doctors were capable and well-accredited, certainly. Many of them had no idea that they were working for Australasia's most secret intelligence agency. They went to work every day in whatever sad, war-torn land they served with the sole intention of curing sick people. But there were some-- not all of them with M.Ds, who spied. They send their communiques home in letters, in ciphers, by phone. They watched, they listened. They quietly propped up failing states with infusions of Australasian Pounds Sterling, or fomented rebellion with a few words in the right ears.

The six men almost never met, the public leadership of the IMB could take care of most things. They rarely met in the same place twice. And so when they did, they could change the world.

"Strathairn sent a note," Peter said over a brandy. "He wants aid to go to the Indonesian people. Thinks they might need it." Horatio nodded, he'd been expecting this for some time. The latter puffed his cigar reflectively for a moment.

"I'm assuming that we're to give special aid to the people of Banda Aceh?" Horatio's tone was expectant. Peter smiled thinly.

"Of course we are," he said. "It's them that's getting the worst of it." He paused for a moment, trying to remember. "We'll be bringing them plenty of medical supplies, both genuine and as a disguise for money. It's in the local currency, legally obtained. Moreso, Davidson is going to be heading the Aid Group." John, heretofore silent, raised his eyebrows.

"Davidson? That means..." Peter nodded.

"That's right. This one's serious. He'll be personally delivering a large amount of Bonstock-cloned military equipment. Anti-tank stuff, mostly, but some mortars and HMGs. A fair few man-portable SAMs, too." John whistled.

"I'm assuming that we'll send a legit team to the Spyrans as well?" That was standard proceedure; provide multiple legitimate teams and a single covert one, still with its own 'public face' in the form of doctors, medical supplies and the like. Indeed, all of the IMB's spies and operatives were trained medical personnel, so that if called upon, they could play the role as well as anyone.

"Yes, of course," Peter replied. "Gentlemen. Good day. I have a meeting with a lovely young lady for drinks, and I would rather not be late. Please, make the necessary arrangements. If anything needs to be discussed, contact each other and myself via the usual method."

OOC: To what extent does Spyr/Hindustan patrol the local waters/search incoming NGOs?

The Quinntonian government is definitely taking an interest in this conflict, though they are asking for advice from their Australiasian and Roycelandian allies in this matter, as they don’t really know who to root for. Should we root for the Islamist Caliphate or the Commies? What a conundrum.
Both are likely to see the USQ as the root of all evil, just from different ends.

However, the Seventh Fleet is placed on alert status; in case it needs to be mobilized, and it begins to be made ready for action should it come to that.

WWJD
Amen.

[OOC: The Sujavans are pretty harsh when it comes to registrations and inspections... aid groups will doubtless complain loudly when the SRA starts assigning them specific zones and distributes their supplies off-the-docks. They won't go so far as to use civil aid for the army, but its quite an authoritarian process. They also have stickers to re-label aid crates, which the Party claims is to prevent the 'manipulation of suffering peoples through selfish acts disguised as goodwill.'

That may not be a problem though, depending on timing... as long as the only boats carrying stuff you want hidden are heading to Aceh, all they need to do is slip into the top of the Malacca navigation passage and time things so they can dash from there into an Acehnese port while nearby Strainist ships are occupied elsewhere... as long as you're in the centre of the Malacca passage, youre entirely safe from inspection by the Strainists, or anyone else for that matter, and given the fate of Bonstock it seems unlikely any regional powers will violate that immunity.

By the time ships can get there, though, it may be more difficult, depending on wether the SRA reaches Lhokseumawe in the first couple of days, as that would cut off the closest point between Aceh and the international passage. If the front is pushed far enough north before its stopped (its not inconcievable that Banda Aceh will be surrounded before the week is up), then Strainist ships and aircraft may try to forcibly divert aid into ports under their control, so they can excecise authority over its distribution. Depending on the commander, they might well fire on ships that refuse to comply... I don't want to speak for Hindustan, but you can be pretty sure they'd be much nicer to aid ships].

(OCC: I don't think there are any Union ships up that way, but if there were, they would likely not let every ship with a neutral flag dock in Banda Aceh without making sure of their humanitarian intentions.

Anyway, I've got a more or less complete post up.)

Aceh
Wherever Strainist forces advance, they fight not only a physical war but a psychological one... mortar-launched pamphlets and radio transmitters having a place in most combat units, and the SRA’s PSYOP aircraft dominating airwaves over the archipelago. Tens of millions of leaflets had already been printed, with occasional bursts of creativity (such as a few dozen rolls of toilet paper printed with the face of a sneering Mohammed Kalla, dropped from an aircraft over Samarinda). More common are instructions on proper methods of surrender accompanying warnings of certain death against superior SRA technology, condemnations of ranking Indonesian leaders following offers of cash payments for those who seize and hand over Islamic Guard officers.
In Java and southern Sumatra, printing presses work furiously to prepare additional propaganda for more targeted deployment in the days to come.

In Aceh, some political officers are less confident in their potential impact than elsewhere. Where the imposed ‘Indonesian’ identity of Mohammed Kalla had existed for less than a decade, unstable and with limited basis in reality, Acehnese identity had resisted the Dutch, the Japanese, and to a lesser extent the Federal Republic, before rejecting Strainist calls for socialism and moderate Islam in favour of a more fundamentalist Indonesian vision. At best, they might be as Timor, playing at independence while diplomats wore down their youthful vigour... at worst they would fight to the last man despite military occupation. It would not be pleasant. Still, efforts pushed ahead... a handful of supporters earned would be better than none when it came time to integrate the wayward tip of Sumatra, and there were other avenues that might be explored...
PEOPLE OF ACEH: Your leaders deceive you.
Mohammed Kalla and Sultan Mansur Shah are demons
who lord their sinful power over the Faithful.
If they are righteous, why has the number of Indonesians
able to complete the Hajj fallen each year, while that
number in Sujava continues to rise? Why do the tables
of Sujava overflow with food so that even the poor are fat,
while in Indonesia each family adds more and more yams to
their meager servings of rice as Kalla feasts upon whiskey
and pork? Why do their armies crumble and scatter on every
front, driven from the field in fear?
The future of Aceh is a future of freedom, a future of
prosperity long denied under Bonstock and ignored under
Mohammed Kalla and Sultan Mansur. Do not fight and perish
for those who would destroy this bright future.

Specialized propaganda also begins to target non-Acehnese ethnic groups... not the most numerous, but more likely to support a change in regime. Efforts are made to underline Acehnese domination and hypocrisy... "They claim to fight for freedom and independence, but freedom for Aceh is not YOUR freedom, it is your prison beneath the Sultan's boot. Unite with the great congress of peoples: Javanese, Sundanese, Balinese, Lyongese, Madurese, all equal in the great union of the Strainist Party. Your choice is simple... the Sultan will have you fight and die to preserve your own oppression, the Party will bring you progress and prosperity in a community of equal peoples".

Once the Viggens over Aceh are taken care of, a number of bombs are disgorged over the fortifications of the Meulaboh-Takengon-Lhokseumawe line, though the aircraft do not come low enough to claim much accuracy with their unguided munitions. Wary of air defences, the Strainist aircraft loiter just long enough to identify potential targets before returning to Medan to re-arm themselves with further unguided munitions... given the likely resistance of the Acehnese to occupation, use of dumb bombs may be due to more than simply their lower cost. Villages and units identified as belonging to non-Acehnese ethnicities are spared aerial bombardment entirely, instead allowed to digest both the destruction falling amidst nearby Acehnese, and Strainist propaganda efforts.

After a difficult battle, Liberation Group Centre emerges victorious over the tanks of the Badr Regiment, but its advance remains bogged down for over six hours, as infantry secure the area and engineering units are brought forward to begin recovery of damaged vehicles... many of the Badr tanks and the casualties they inflicted amongst the Strainists may eventually return in service of the SRA, but until they can be towed off the road the damaged hulks form an effective roadblock.

Groups North and South suffer no such delays, and press forward after a short break for re-supply of fuel and ammunition. Their advance stops just short of the Meulaboh-Takengon-Lhokseumawe line, where self-propelled artillery joins the aerial bombardment, following similar tactics, as truck-born infantry spread out across the countryside behind the front line in order to secure it and begin delivery of both aid and propaganda. Joining these regular troops come some two thousand men drawn from militia units in Java, under command of SRA political officers... not particularly well-trained, and armed with older FRB weapons, but able to provide manpower enough to ensure Strainist presence in occupied Aceh is more than token patrols.

Halmahera
Unable to hold their outer perimeter, Hindustani troops fall back into the outer buildings of the town, hoping to make up for their smaller numbers in an urban environment. Closer to the docks, a handful of SRA political officers face an increasing conundrum... what to do with a building full of Indonesian Navy seamen? The idea of burning them alive is discussed in seriousness as the possibility of retreat looms closer, eventually dismissed because it might create martyrs and weaken Indian morale (thought by the Strainists to be fragile, due to Mumbai’s lack of ‘spiritual strength through socialist ideology’). It is finally accepted that, in all likelihood, the prisoners will have to be released, and so a ‘crash course’ of re-education is attempted. Indonesian sailors are engaged in conversation and shown the SRA television broadcasts blanketing Indonesia, in an attempt to expose them to the superiority of the Strainist system. Particular attention is paid to discussion of the SRA’s own navy... one which, it is said, will be in need of trained crewmen to patrol its expanded waters after Kalla’s inevitable defeat. Would it not be grand to sail on a ship as magnificent as the Lyong-ti... or even just a frigate or patrol boat kept with full fuel and excellent maintenance? Opportunities will come quickly to those who join the cause of the Strainist Party. The political officers have little to offer in terms of hardcopy or financial incentives, but they do pass out their copies of Strainist texts, as well as their MREs... if they are forced to retreat, they won’t need such dead weight anyway, and it might help build goodwill.
Though an officer or two might harbour secret hopes that the POWs will be suddenly filled with Revolutionary spirit, the effort is not aimed at the near-impossibility of turning the Navy men into Strainist soldiers for the current battle. Rather, the hope is that men who think that life might not be so bad under enemy rule will lose their will to fight that enemy, and if the Navy men are re-deployed amongst the troops of local Sultans, they might spread such doubts and render the region fertile for further propaganda.

The arrival of Strainist soldiers in the town comes in time to blunt the thrust up from the airport, but not in time to stop it... even with the Hindustanis falling back and additional men, a noticeable bulge remains pushing up into the southern defences, while at its edges soldiers are forced to fight an urban battle house-to-house in an attempt to keep the Indonesians from advancing further into the town.

As this battle rages, the drone of aircraft engines can be heard... additional paratroopers are on the way. To disgorge their passengers, the civil aircraft converted for parachute duty are forced to descend to a mere 150 metres, releasing some six hundred men over the course of a half-hour before fleeing back to Sujavan airfields. At such low altitudes, very few of the paratroopers land outside the target zone (behind Indian lines), though two dozen planes and hundreds of floating soldiers likely make a tempting target.

Once on the ground, little time is wasted before the new arrivals rush into positions just behind the current front lines... when combat forces a retreat by those Indians currently engaged, fresh troops will be ready to take up the fight.

Ambon
Aircraft occupied northward, Hindustani para-sappers begin to arrive in Ambon by civilian ferry, to take over reconstruction and aid duties. Hindustani marines in the City, freed from such tasks, begin to press onward against Paso. Concerned with securing its new gains, fleet elements in the area dismiss Indonesian evacuation efforts as a feint, allowing Kalla’s men to proceed while Indian forces battle around Paso and patrol deeper across the island.

Tarakan
Strainist troops landing at Tarakan concentrate at first on the airfield, hoping to strike quickly enough to prevent its sabotage or destruction, before moving to oust the garrison in the town itself... the force suffers a shortage of heavy firepower, with only a smattering of light mortars and no anti-tank weapons better than the RPG-7, but almost all bear rifles with underslung grenade launchers, often employed as makeshift mortars for clearing enemy concentrations.
Air support comes in the form of a pair of Su-35s carrying laser-guided bombs, who arrive too late to catch the withdrawing Indonesian aircraft and direct their ordnance onto targets selected by unit commanders on the ground.

Kendawangan
Strainist advances, already slowed by a shortage of proper vehicles, are further delayed by fallen trees and the presence of landmines. Troops concentrate on clearing blockages left by the Indonesians, and resting up for the eventual resumption of the advance. In the air, a pair of Su-35s mounting optical cameras begins to circle above the area, hoping to identify locations of Indonesian troops and fortifications. With darkness soon approaching, such information will be vital if the advance is to maintain its rapid tempo.
A second pair of Su-35s loiter in the area of Pontianak, engaged in similar duties, with the added objective of locating a nearby stretch of shore where Indonesian defenses are light or non-existent... though publically they report glorious victories on all fronts, the SRA has suffered significant casualties by launching direct amphibious assaults rather than the indirect landings for which it is better suited, and there is a significant desire to avoid such assaults if alternative landing sites can be found.
http://img176.imageshack.us/img176/2539/garudajunglepatroltw8.jpg

Banjarmasin
The launch of the Sultan’s missile is a horrible shock to the Strainists... even when it fails, it is still a blow, as none in the Party had any idea of its existence. Does Kalla have other missiles, where might they be, if something of this significance escaped notice then could the Indonesians not have hidden away biochemical, or even nuclear, weapons when the USQ went about its post-war confiscation? Jakarta is protected by a screen of SAMs, some recently armed with nuclear tips, as are several other Sujavan cities... but smaller air defense missiles have begun to concentrate in the south rather than north, given the dismissible threat posed by Kalla’s few surviving planes and the danger of Australasian action.

The Lyong-ti is equally shaken when a shell fired from a shore battery explodes against the armour of its forward turret. The damage itself is not significant, and the battleship has only itself to blame after wandering too close to the shoreline, but it does cause a withdrawal. The heavy vessel pulls back firing, first against identified shore batteries and then sweeping its guns to either side, against anything which might have been used to conceal similar weapons.

Images of the missile launch, taken from Strainist ships and observation aircraft, are sent immediately into the hands of propaganda units, who begin using the footage to paint a story of the ‘vengeance weapon of the Sultan’. The launch failure is depicted as a success, the final desperate act of a feudal tyrant seeking to slaughter his people before they can be liberated. This fanciful tale will be played on broadcasts into Indonesia, as well as domestically in Sujava and Spyr, in the days to come.

Balikpapan
Having ignored incoming helicopters in favour of diligence in finding the returning A-10s, the Su-35s above Balikpapan are in a good position to spot the low-flying Warthogs as they approach. When they emerge over the water, tentative intercept courses become routes to the kill, and the Strainist aircraft swoop in from behind and above the enemy attack planes, 30mm cannon blazing. This dogfight is a challenge of a different sort than before, with the A-10s operating at much slower speeds than the Sukhoi fighters, requiring substantial maneuver to return to firing positions after each pass.
Should enemy planes survive to locate the Strainist fleet, the Strainist frigates are well aware of their vulnerabilities, and will make no effort to conserve their stores of Mistrals.

Strainist ships and aircraft do, however, have standing orders relating to the A-10s, and as they acquire targeting solutions they also broadcast demands for surrender and offers of substantial funds to any pilot who defects along with his aircraft... the Revolutionary Army being eager to supplement its pitiful array of dedicated attack planes with craft of the Warthog’s power.

Beijing, China
Assurances are granted that the Chinese populations in the former Indonesia will be assured equal treatment and freedom from discrimination once Strainist forces are in control... the status of Sujava’s Chinese population ought attest in this regard. It will certainly be a vast improvement on their state under Kalla’s regime.

News that China will move naval elements and relief aid into the area is greeted with thanks and request that Chinese aid begin delivery immediately, in cooperation with provisional Strainist authorities in Indonesia (which the Party refers to as the People’s Committee for Revolutionary Activity in Southeast Asia, though less-favourable sources doubtless have their own terms for it).

Beijing, and also Hanoi, are asked if they might provide security in the South China Sea, against encroachment by ‘imperialist elements determined to gain footholds in Asia during the current transitional period’.

Japan
Strainist diplomats hole up in embassies and consulates, occasionally attempting to speak with protest leaders but for the most part weathering the storm of jingoism in silence. In Lyong, news of such protests does have a slight impact on popular perceptions, birthing sympathies with rising anti-Japanese sentiment in China and ongoing suspicions in Dra-pol... the Japanese have turned away from the center and across the ocean once again, much to their detriment. After all, what do they have to fear from encirclement by Heaven’s mandated powers if they do not harbor imperialist intentions?

Lord Admiral Nicolai Perstlovski had been in command of the Pacific Fleet since before the Tsarist party took power. The Pacific was perhaps the most sympathetic to the Tsarist government of all of the Divine Russian Empire’s Navy, and so, even after the debacle with the last Admiral went renegade in support of a French coup in Tord. The Putin government saw that it had to appoint a Tsarist sympathizer even then. That meant, when the Tsarists rose to power in Russia, the Pacific Fleet was ready, and willing. And they had been rewarded. Though the defense budget had always focused on ground and air forces, so integral to warding off an actual invasion of Russia, Tsar Wingert had spent much time and resources repairing and refitting the old Soviet Navy. There had not been many new purchases, aside from some Roycelandian battleships, but all of the ships that we had, were in top condition, if a little outdated. But their electronics had been updated, their launching capabilities and sensors brought up to spec and now they were still an effective means of force projection through which the Tsar could make his strength felt.

The Lord Admiral was in his stateroom, smoking a large cigar on the flagship of this fleet of his: one of two Kiev Class Aircraft Carrying Cruisers. He stared down at his orders that had come in from Moscow. He had recently been ordered to prepare the fleet for a long stay at sea and pitched battle of it came to it when the French and Spanish Fleets were clashing with the Australiasian and British in the Atlantic. He knew that his western counterparts had gotten similar orders. He reached for his half-full bottle of cheap, watered down vodka, and poured himself a drink. He took a long haul on his cigar and blew the smoke towards the papers he was holding, obscuring them for awhile. Then he shrugged, attempted to wipe the bleariness from his red eyes, straightened his long beard with his hand, and stood, smoothing the wrinkles in his uniform. He walked to the wall, where he took the phone off the cradle and spoke into it slowly, without much feeling. He had been ordered to shadow the Chinese coast, but now that was no longer necessary. Now, they were to continue to sail south, towards the former Republic of Bonstock, where Spyr had apparently started to show their strength. He wondered for a moment how his fleet would fare against the Lyong-Ti, but quickly pushed it out of his mind. Hopefully, it would not come to shooting.

He would split his Fleet into two, one under the command of his nephew, Lord Admiral Mikhail Perstlovski; he would command
Pacific Naval Group A:
1 Kara Class Guided Missile Cruiser <Destroyer>
2 Sovremenny Class Destroyers
3 Udaloy I Class Destroyers
5 Krivak Class Frigates
8 Grisha V Class Corvettes
3 Tarantul Class Corvettes

He would lead Pacific Naval Group B:
2 Kiev Class Heavy Aircraft Carrying Cruiser (Aircraft Carrier)
2 Kirov Class Missile Battlecruisers
1 Slava Class Cruiser
5 Kashin Class Destroyers
2 Kara Class Guided Missile Cruisers <Destroyer>
2 Sovremenny Class Destroyers
2 Udaloy I Class Destroyers
5 Krivak Class Frigates



Group A would be charged with returning to Russian influenced waters and protecting the Motherland from Spyrian/ Strainist aggression.
Group B would proceed further south into the former FRB.

As of right now, neither group had firing directives nor engagement orders, this was to be a defensive voyage.


At the same time, The Far East District Command has been given orders to go on alert and to begin to patrol their border regions with higher fervency. With that, much of the air force elements are now being transferred to that command.
Far East District- 370,000
15 Divisions Heavy Mechanised- 150,000 troops
7 Divisions Light Mechanised- 70,000 troops
3 Divisions Elite Commando- 30,000 troops
4 Divisions Elite Paratroopers- 40,000 troops
4 Divisions Heavy Infantry- 40,000 troops
4 Divisions Light Infantry- 40,000 troops


Tsar Wingert the Great.

Protests and demonstrations are raging all across Quinntonia and into Quinntonian Dra-pol related to the expansion of Socialism in South East Asia. The apparent collapse of BG and Neo-Anarchos seems to only spur them on as from TVs, radios and pulpits all across Quinntonia and Mexico question why the government wasn’t doing more.

The Prime Minister, Vanessa Moerike was in meetings all day with her Defense Minister and the Pentagon Chiefs. Because of the Libyan situation, the military was in a state of full preparedness, and she was sick of being seen as the weak alternative to Jesse Obed, who stemmed the tide of dictatorial Socialism his whole career, against all odds. She was prepared to show the strength of Quinntonia if necessary, and she started to make phone calls to the Japanese, Australasian, Chinese, British and Roycelandian heads of state requesting their support in stopping the aggression of the Progressives.

WWJD
Amen.

Once again London and Washington fail to see eye to eye, and once again it is in relation to a perceived Quinntonian rush to conflict over a situation with which Britain is generally content. Seeing France delt a blow in North Africa didn't upset Whitehall or the great British public, and nor has the crippling of Kalla's dictatorship.

The British Empire continues to conduct healthy trade with the Strainist bloc (why should it not?) and considers the Indian National Union an ally in most circumstances. The unstable and relatively unprofitable Indonesian autocracy is not regarded as a big loss.

British forces are moving, though not apparently in relation to the South East Asian conflict: Diego Garcia's Walmingtonian forces, reinforced heavily since the Whig military government, have moved to establish and secure the British Indian Ocean Territory during the deconstruction of the Federal Dictatorship of United Elias with which the territory was previously shared.

There is almost no interest in any part of British society at this time in fighting the Strainists (who tend to induce relative stability and prosperity in troubled regions), and certainly not the Hindustanis (who play well with the man on the street) and, by association, the Soviets (who scare the daylights out of already over-stretched military types), while Europe, Africa, and the Middle East are in turmoil, and the future of the Chinese government is sufficiently uncertain as to cause concern.

In fact, Mainwaring would have more popular and military support if he declared war on League-armourer Roycelandia.

Britain finds it easier to trade with market-socialists than isolated feudalists, over-regulated imperialists, and under-developed theocrats.

If it is any consolation to the United States' new Prime Minister, nobody in the British Empire is sure against what odds Obed stemmed exactly what tide of dictatorial socialism. The largely failed series of wars against a backwards little nation in Korea represent the best that anyone can come up with, and, not to diminish the sacrifices of those Quinntonians who perished in said wars, the fall of Seoul isn't widely regarded in Britain as an especially great victory.

Emperor Zhang was not about to agree to this as easily as he had done with the trade embargo. While he understood Washington's concerns about the situation, the public were already calling for a Republic and he was being painted as a Quintonnian lapdog while his political opponents gained ground on every opinion poll with the key issue of foreign policy.

Worse, he had heard rumours that Hu Jin Tao was planning to leave the United China Party and join the Social Democrats. His administration suddenly looked extremely vulnerable. Technically, Zhang had absolute power over China, but whether anyone would listen to him now was up for debate.

The pressure was on him to show that China was an independent nation. Strong in domestic affairs, and strong on the international stage. It would help repair the damage his previous foot-in-mouth incident with the Soviets and paint him as the nationalist and independently-minded leader that his father was.

Raleigh, Australasia

General irritation with British Prime Minister Mainwaring ran high in the capitol of the Free Colony. While Britian may be content to allow an ally to be surrounded by forces dedicated to the 'liberation' of the world from 'imperialists', it is seen as rather bad form to stay out of the situation, especially when Australasians died by the thousands fighting what was, by all accounts, Britain's war. While no statements are made, a keen observer would note the cooling of Anglo-Australasian relations, underscored by the gradual withdrawl of forces in the European theatre.

Atlantic Fleet, off the coast of Portugal

Vice-Admiral Damascus frowned to himself, pocketing the never-delivered 'promotion' that he was to have given to Admiral Longworth. With France's sudden withdrawl from the international scene and gradual retreat in Africa, the short war seemed to have come to a close with a single, bloody naval battle. The press was already playing the Glorious 12th of June off as a decisive strategic victory, calling him the 'next John Jellicoe'. He'd sent the royalist French back to their bases, fought the good fight and all that rot. And now, he was being recalled.

The Atlantic Fleet was to proceed forthwith to its base at Buenos Aires, where naval engineers would assist in the repair of the docks and other major damage. In the week since the attack, Australasian and Roycelandian Army Engineers had been at work day and night in the city, and had discovered that while casualties had been high, the early estimate of several billion pounds in damage had been, to be fair, rather extreme. The commercial centre had been hit the hardest, followed by the navy yard and the southern part of the city. However, people were coming to grips with the tragedy and life was moving forward.

Damascus' own fate was far stranger than his fleet's. He was to take the first flight back to Australia, where he would take command of the Home Fleet. It had grown too large for a mere Rear Admiral-- Alexander Alexander would take Damascus' place in Buenos Aires. For a man who had expected to be labelled as a bungling idiot and hung out to dry, Hugo Damascus was instead something of a hero.

Corsica

Vice-Admiral Peter Denning fumed. His fleet was being re-organized, with whole sections sent back home to join the Home Fleet. His own flagship, the FCS Quenfis and her eighty aircraft, was to become the Home Fleet's flagship under Hugo Damascus. The battleships Royal Sovereign and Collingwood, the battlecruisers Lion and Queensland and nearly a dozen smaller ships were going back as well. His fleet would have less than half of its original force-projection capability, none of its ships of the line, and only seven gun-destroyers and four escort cruisers for direct-fire combat.

He'd been hamstrung, by God! Sent off on dead-end duty in the Mediterranean, without even a proper fleet to keep watch on the monarchist devils in France. If the French came out again, he'd have nothing with which to oppose them. And yet, all the action was back in the South Pacific. If there was any place for Australasia's longest serving admiral to be, it was there! He got on the phone with the Admiralty.

At sea, north of Aceh

The small ship-- an old fishing trawler modified as a transport and floating hospital-- was painted an eye-catching white, with a red band around its hull and periodic red crosses. It was the international symbol for 'hospital ship', and denoted that it carried no weapons and was on a mission of mercy.

It was the property of the IMB, and it and a dozen others like it were converging on Indonesia with appreciable speed. This particular vessel, however, was unusual in two respects. Firstly, it had a false bottom welded in place over the lower cargo hold, one of flimsy sheet metal that could be breached in minutes with any kind of appropriate cutting tool. Secondly, it had friends.

Most of the IMB's ships travelled alone, or in pairs. This one was flanked by three others, the cited reason being that it was bound for Aceh, an area under siege. Resultingly, it would require more medical aid than an area already being tended to by the competent, if proselytizing Spyran doctors. The real reason, of course, was to keep any Strainist ships passing nearby busy inspecting their cargo, while the Nightingale, filled with weapons, escaped un-noticed.

In the secret compartment below Davidson's large stock of medical supplies, there were RPGs, assault rifles, tank ammunition for the Leopard 2E, MANPADs and landmines in the hundreds. There were MREs, spare magazines, field medkits. Everything that an army facing siege would want, and more.

Augustus Davidson himself stood on the bridge of the convered trawler Nightingale, watching the Jindalee OTHR readout carefully for encroaching Hindustani or Strainist ships and aircraft. The board was clear, for the moment.

"Signal escort ships," he said to the IMB radioman. "Begin run." The four ships spread out into a concave arc and converged on the city of Banda Aceh at top speed-- some thirty-six knots.

OOC: Do excuse the crappyness of the writing, I'm teh sick.

Aceh

Not surprisingly, given mismanagement at the hands of Sultan Mansur and Mohammed Kalla, some Achenese are willing to put stock in Spyrian propaganda. Although there is no means a majority about to welcome the Strainists into Aceh with open arms, people are largely dissatisfied with their government, which oppresses them and which has failed to deliver on most of its promises. Certainly the local economy is less prosperous than it was under the rule of the Federal Republic, however disagreeable that was, and Mansur is no more kind to his people than Lord Harald and his Kopassus. But the Achenese have not forgotten their cultural and national identity, and it is not for Indonesia that they fight for. Aceh did not, says the Sultan, suffer under the foreign yoke since the arrival of the Dutch so many years ago just to be robbed of its independence once again by another empire. Sultan Mansur might not be ideal, but he is head of an Aceh that is as independent as it has ever been since the start of European colonialism. Few are willing to give that up for the promises of prosperity and progress writen on a propaganda leaflet or, for those who cannot read, preached on the radio.

Far more success will be had with non-Achenese ethnic groups. For starters, Mansur had singled-out the Gayo in particular for excessive taxation in an effort to both pad his popularity with Achenese and stifle his Sultanate's thirst for revenue. And excessive taxation is not the only thing to have befallen Aceh's other societies. Men from the Islamic Guard and Sultan's Guard have the freedom to act with impunity in dealing with who they consider troublemakers, leading to a number of massacres that have gone a long way towards reducing sympathy for the present regime. By aggrivating ethnic greivances, Mansur had hoped to solidify support amongst ethnic Achenese, but in truth he has sewn the countryside with pockets of Strainist supporters, who see a way out of their present condition in union with Sujava.

As offensive operations continue, an increasing number of militia units begin to take to the field, and by the second day Strainist forces find themselves sometimes under attack by irregular forces. They are handicapped, to be sure, having recieved only the most basic training in terms of weapons-handling, but they know the terrain. Of course, the Sultan doesn't entirely intend for them to fight conventional Strainist forces so much as he wants them to fight dissent amongst the population now between the northern defensive lines and the border. Doubtless the invaders will try to win a hearts and minds campaign in southern and central Asia, and it is the militia's duty to make sure that there is an absolute minimum of hearts to be won. So, compared to the number of murders committed in the early days of the invasion, the frequency of attacks on Strainist troops is low. This will likely change once Javanese reservists move into the area and attempt to secure the central part of Aceh.

The initial air raid against the Meulaboh-Takengon-Lhokseumawe line causes negligible damage, being as it is quite heavily camoflauged, with troops for the most part protected by trenches and blockhouses. In terms of identifying Achenese strongpoints and force concentrations, the attack is more successful, as Bofors gunners try to down the Su-35s and Gripens that come closest to their positions. Follow-up strikes will probably have more to show for themselves, but the line will not be significantly weakened until subjected to a more concentrated bombardment.

Approaching the northern defense line, Strainist troops are not called upon to fight very often. There are minefields that need to be cleared, and obstacles that need to be moved out of the way, and occasionally a Matador will be fired from the roadside at a lead tank or APC, but these attacks are very much the exception. Although a believer in the doctrine of defense-in-depth, Mansur's main defenses really only start behind the Meulaboh-Takengon-Lhokseumawe line. Self-propelled guns approaching firing positions opposite the Achenese fortifications also have little to worry about. There are, after all, prescious few artillery pieces in Aceh, and all these are in fixed positions at the capital. Achenese soldiers can only dig deep and wait for the bombardment to let-up, hopefully after having destroyed mostly decoy or first-layer positions.

In the center, Badr Regiment survivors try to disengage before the route towards the M-T-L line is blocked by the other two Strainist columns. While they can be happy with the setbacks handed to Aceh Liberation Group Center, preserving at least some of its strength is considered more important, especially once it becomes apparent that only the northern Uhud Regiment had managed to reach the M-T-L line with a significant portion of its armored strength intact. Mansur would like to have at least one effective regular regiment reinforcing his heaviest defenses.

Halmahera

The Sultan of Jailolo, extremely happy with his gains so far and with victory in sight, orders his commanders to press the attack. They know that, should they not perform up to expectations on the battlefield, they had best shoot themselves, because Jailolo won't be so quick about it. But, at present, there doesn't seem to be much danger of that as Indians fall back on all sides. Losses are heavy, as they have always been, but the Sultan is not concerned with how large his numerical advantage is as long as his troops are overrunning the enemy. Most importantly, Ternate, his forces stubbornly refusing to budge from their positions several kilometers east of the city, will be disgraced. There will certainly be a promotion in store for the leader of the assault on the airport, which continues to make the most significant gains in spite of having lost nearly 200 of its number since the opening of the attack.

When the Indonesian troops begin to encounter built-up terrain, the pace of their advance slows to a crawl. Jailolo's forces recieve almost no training as it is, much less instruction in urban warfare, and they are ill-prepared to engage the Indians in even a low-built, small city like Galela. There is serious talk of ordering a halt to the attack, but this is abandoned once Strainist aircraft are spotted, heading towards the town with more paratroopers. Heavy AA machine guns are brought-up and fired against the low-flying enemy transports and paras, although exposure to Indonesian fire is rather short and there are few real AA weapons in Jailolo's arsenal. With the arrival of airborne reinforcements, the Strainists and Indians further narrow the gap in numbers, affecting an immediate change in Jailolo's mood and putting some of the furthest-forward Indonesian units in serious danger. One of Jailolo's subordinates arrives in Duma to plead with and threaten the Sultan of Ternate, whose nearly 500 deployed soldiers could cover for the arrival of enemy reinforcements, but he is not forthcoming with assistance. Ternate would rather see Jailolo defeated after causing the Indians heavy losses, so his troops, both those in Duma and another thousand further southeast, can take credit for their ultimate defeat. Of course, if the Indians hold-out long enough, the tables might very well be turned.

Most of Kalla's sailors, meanwhile, try to make their way back through the lines to join the Sultan's forces, although these efforts often end with the sailors being gunned-down by Indonesians mistaking them for enemy naval infantry. Strainist propaganda does have an impact on some, and still others don't want to fight as infantry, so a significant minority remains within Galela, passing the time until the course of the battle becomes more apparent.

Ambon

Indonesian troops are pleasantly surprised at the non-appearance of enemy airplanes above their evacuation route, and arrive on West Seram without loss. Troops still on Ambon have no way of knowing this, and make as much trouble for the enemy as their numbers, not very much in excess of a hundred men, will allow. Their continued resistance could be making their comrades' survival possible.

Tarakan

Spyrian marines are, for the most part, able to capture the airfield in one piece. Opposition is light, with the town's defenders still feeling for the enemy concentrations, and there are only a few infantry sections on hand to oppose Strainist efforts there. While armed trucks and jeeps move to the coast and await further landings, dismounted infantry congregate on the airfield, where the enemy presence had not gone altogether unnoticed. Certainly the men of the Ridda Regiment have superiority in numbers, but it takes some time for junior officers to recover from initial ambushes and setbacks. Bombing by Su-35s costs the regiment nearly 30 men, and when that is added to the rest of the combat casualties, Tarakan's defenders are already down a hundred troops. With the civilian population still, for the most part, within the town, fighting soon turns ugly as attempts are made to clear-out the Strainists, repulsed, and then made again. Indonesian efforts are mostly directed at recapturing the airport, which could become the major weakness in northern Kalimantan. Commanders try to press the Ridda Regiment's advantages while they still exist so that the Strainists are unable to fly-in reinforcements, and so Tarakan will not become a distraction to the relief of Balikpapan. Recklessness, therefore, comes to characterize most of the Indonesian assaults, with the regiment attempting to overwhelm rather than outmanouver the Strainists.

Kendawangan

Retreating Indonesians attempt to use the darkness to advantage, setting ambushes to cover their retreat and to confuse the advancing enemy. More adept commanders dispatch raiding parties to Kendawangan itself, and they hack their way through the jungle, constantly on alert for the presence of Spyrian patrols. Of course, given the distance involved, they won't arrive until the next day, and they won't be able to safely mount an attack until the next night. Besides the occasional ambush or raiding party, the Yarmuk Regiment does not stick around, and makes no attempt to turn and face Strainist columns. To stop and mount an attack would, after all, only give enemy airplanes a target to bombard.

Nearer Pontianak, Strainist reconaissance will find defenses considerably heavier than are in place at Kendawangan. Concrete tank obstacles and hardened bunkers cover the coastline in front of the town, and further fortifications protect Pontianak's flanks, although these are lighter than those facing seaward. With its jet-capable airfield, Pontianak is a good deal more important than Kendawangan, and is defended by a fifth of the Yarmuk Regiment's total strength, some 1,000 men. Unlike those in Pontianak, these are alert and expect an enemy attack, but if the Strainists could land 12,000 at Kendawangan, Pontianak's 1,000 defenders hardly add up to an insurmountable obstacle. Towns around Pontianak are also relatively lightly garrisoned, with Mempawah and Kertamulya each counting not many more than a hundred men entrenched on their coastlines. Strainist amphibious forces will likely have to face some opposition wherever they land, and it will certainly be more effectively coordinated than that had at Kendawangan. But, unless they decide to land at Pontianak itself, the assault will likely be more on the easy side.

Banjarmasin

A cheer erupts from the Indonesian bomb shelters once observation posts report the Lyong-ti's withdrawl, after being hit by one of Banjarmasin's shore guns. That an aged Bonstockian coastal artillery piece can frighten one of the world's most formidable warships is something to be proud of, and this success soon overshadows the failure of the sultan's ballistic missile. This is despite the destruction of the successful guns within minutes of their possibly historic hit, and despite the continued wrecking of the town's defensive works. Although Banjarmasin remains perhaps the best-defended coastal town in Indonesia, with close to 10,000 men from various units as garrison, it will cease to be a threat when it comes to enemy shipping. And nobody is about to count MG-armed motorboats as a serious problem for fast landing craft, to say nothing of proper surface combatants.

Balikpapan

Not surprisingly, No.105 Squadron's pilots do not respond to Strainist calls for surrender, and continue on their suicidal course. If they could just reach the enemy fleet and sink some of the expected assault shipping, they might give the troops in Balikpapan an easier time repulsing the invaders. But they don't get the chance. The A-10s are soon occupied with evasive manouvers, attempting to bring their deadly cannons to bear against the more numerous Sukhois, and jettisoning important ordnance all the while in an effort to improve manouverability. It is not long before one of the Warthogs is shot down, in spite of its heavy armor and numerous survivability features. They might be proof against 23mm shells, but the Strainists' 30mm cannons can largely take care of the Indonesians' armor.

Balikpapan's air defenses recieve a much-needed boost, though, with the arrival of the whole of No.107 Squadron in Samarinda. The 15 Hawks might not arrive with any weaponry of their own, but they are in good maintainance condition, and it is not at all long before Samarinda's armorers are upon them. Samarinda's commander intends to launch a night attack against the enemy warships with cluster bombs, the frigates hopefully under the impression that Samarinda's only resident squadron had been destroyed already.

In the meantime, troops in Balikpapan itself lose more of their number as the Spyrians capture more and more of the city. Finally, the Indonesian commander, a colonel, recognizes the threat posed by the troops inland and, belatedly, redeploys some 600 men to face the submarine-borne forces. Like the troops in Tarakan, they enter the urban environment with little information on enemy dispositions, and take heavy losses in initial engagements. Hopefully, time will allow them to wear-down the attackers to a point where relief columns from Samarinda can destroy the invasion altogether.

Mumbai

Unioners might not be happy about Australasian involvement, but news of a Russian fleet moving towards the Indonesian archipelago is something entirely different. The IN commitment to the operation is immediately enlarged to include the Bodkin-class frigates Vikram and Trishul in addition to the Vijay already en route, although it is not thought that the Strainists alone would be all too heavily troubled by Wingert's navy if it came to shooting. Of course, when Wingert decides to deploy a significant chunk of his navy into such waters, what does he expect? If the Russians want to play at imperialism in southern Asia, they can expect a proper response. At least, that is Mumbai's feeling, and few believe that the Strainists would tolerate a Tsarist presence anywhere outside Russia itself.

Quinntonian displeasure is not addressed by Parliament, a body that has become increasingly upset over Washington's actions as of late. If the USQ cannot bring itself to accept the removal of the Kalla dictatorship as a good thing, that is its own problem, and not Mumbai's. Quinntonians who argue the point with Unioners will be told that democratic Asia did not endure the Malacca War to see another brutal, authoritarian regime emerge in Bonstock's place. Quinntonia's sudden pang of sympathy for the IRI confounds most Unioners, most of whom either see it as blatent hipocracy or a shrewd attempt to nudge its way into the strategic picture in the former Bonstock. Of course, a few Unioners who are anti-leftist in their politics stage demonstrations in support of the Quinntonian and Australasian viewpoints, but such people are a relatively small minority.

Great Walmington once again demonstrates to Unioners why London should be held in such high esteem, and with the ISC's sudden turn towards introspection Great Walmington's importance to Mumbai will only increase.

Of course, an increasing number of Unioners is concerned over what is seen as excessive belligerance with regards to Quinntonia and its allies. Perhaps Roycelandia is just a pit of bad intentions, but both Washington and Raleigh have had good relations with the INU in the past, and it would be a mistake not to seek a diplomatic solution now, before tempers flare and before the world has another large-scale war on its hands.

Raleigh

Mid-Air, the Mid-Asian airline controlled by the Depkazi state, did not stand to impress many by bringing a barely repainted Soviet-era turboprop airliner into the Australasian capital once a week, but in doing even this little it was advancing beyond the boundaries of travel possible under the first post-Soviet leader, Edmund Tchokareff.

The first such flight into Raleigh was full of officials rather than civilian travellers, and Gulsana Turesbekova, distant cousin of the Khalīfah, Chingiz Khagan Depkazi, Amir al-Muminin, Malik ul-Mugāhidīn, lead the party on what may very well become her second diplomatic failure in as many weeks. She was fast becoming the busiest person ever to get absolutely nothing done, and had to hope for better luck in Australasia than she'd had in the Indian National Union, which refused her attempt to establish an embassy in Mumbai and declined a request to open trade relations between India and the Caliphate.

Gulsana arrived wearing a colourful satin dress to below the knee and loose trousers, tough little shoes that were about the only part of her attire really suitable for the part of Depkazia from which she hailed, and on her head a silk scarf that was decorated with silver and gold. There was certainly no question of her face being covered, nor her hands.

Turesbekova was to attempt the opening of relations with the west, and the conflict in Indonesia seemed the perfect time for it. The Depkazi sought audience with the upper ranks of Australasian government, and would approach them as a representative of a respectable religious man and international hero who had toppled two unpopular dictators long tollerated by the neighbouring Holy League, Indians, and Armandian Combine. Samarqand now aimed to present Chingiz and his swelling empire as bringers of religious freedom to long-oppressed Muslims in Central Asia and staunch opponents to the socialist invasion of Indonesia. Depkazia's other enemies included the communist Armandians who were attempting to put Afghanistan under a puppet government and the feudal imperialists who were exterminating Kazakh culture, and it would be implied that Depkazia's only problem with China was that the presently unstable government was supporting the Armandian communists and making life difficult for those who wished to trade with and invest in the Caliphate.

Samarqand, for its part, wants western pressure on Beijing in pursuit of more accommodating Sino-Depkazi relations, which would allow Chinese and western firms to invest in some of Chingiz's infrastructure plans for Depkazia and North Pakistan. The Caliphate is keen to resist the socialists in Indonesia, too, but being landlocked and surrounded by Russia, Armand, Hindustan, and China, is unable to act seriously in this matter, short of actually invading the INU, which most likely would see Armand taking its chance to improve relations with Mumbai by invading Depkazia and Kashmir attacking in North Pakistan with Chinese support.

Samarqand, Gulsana will insist, just wants the Caliphate to be accepted on the world stage amongst the pantheon of nations and empires.

Turesbekova is due to carry a similar message to Washington after Raleigh, seeking to establish the Depkazi Caliphate as the leader of the community of Islam in the eyes of the world's preeminent Christian power, and to arrange some sort of treaty between the two.

Meanwhile, Depkazi-backed Mujahideen out of Bactria continue to clash with the communist-supported forces of the so-called Democratic Republic of Afghanistan, spies attempt to infiltrate the Vale of Kashmir, and volunteers try to make their way into Indonesia by sneaking through Balochistan to stow away on long sea voyages or boarding commercial flights to third countries and proceeding from there, eventually looking to contact Indonesian forces and sign-up to the resistance. Certainly the Depkazi diplomat would like to see Australasia accepting potential Islamic fighters and helping them to move on to fight the Strainists, but this may be typical Chingiz, over-reaching himself and expecting too much.

[OOC: A question for Quinntonia... how long does it take from the beginning of hostilities until the USQ starts investigating possible action?]

Aceh
As part of efforts to secure the territory they have come to occupy, SRA officer-judges and Javanese militia begin compiling lists of 'feudal criminals'... while in principle this process is meant to locate those who have perpetrated atrocities upon local populations, it is open to much abuse by minority ethnicities as Strainist authorities have little access to documentation and tend to view the words of ethnic Acehnese with suspicion while taking minority accusations at face-value. Those few Acehnese who join the minorities welcoming the Spyrans are generally protected, though they will find the best way to secure their own positions is to pass on the accusation.

This is but the first step in a complex effort to 'Javanize' rural Aceh. There are perhaps 4 million Acehnese who will have to be dealt with in some way or other, lest they rule the countryside like they did under the Dutch, and the best way to do that is seen as replacing them with local minorities and Javanese settlers who will have a vested interest in opposing, rather than supporting, potential guerilla movements. The presence of People's Militia troops, ostensibly civilians armed for defence of their home communities, is thus not due to so much to a shortage of manpower as it is to a migration plan: they are here to defend what will soon become home, with families from overcrowded Java waiting to join them in the months to come. Not all are strangers to the land, however... FRB transmigration once left a significant Javanese minority in Aceh, which fled after its union with Indonesia and which is now eager to take its turn at the reigns.

Ambon
Where the ships are spared aerial bombardment, this is not for lack of aircraft... several Spyran Su-35s join their Hindustani allies in strikes against the remaining defenders, realizing only too late that they have misjudged Indonesian intent. Still, that will be little comfort to remaining troops, facing assaults meant to challenge much larger forces.

In Ambon proper, Hindustani para-sappers and SRA troops move to clear the airfield once they have restored basic services to the city.

Balikpapan
The SRA commander leading the assault on the city grows more worried by the hour, as daylight slips away and resistance beginst to intensify. While it is not in the habit of abandoning its fighting men, SRA doctrine favours the exploitation of success over the shoring-up of weakness, and if he cannot prove the merit of his operation by dislodging the enemy then he may be forced to fall back to the north. With this in mind, the remaining Strainist marines continue to fight with ferocity, and loudspeakers are finally allowed to bark out announcements of their current triumphs and impending victory here and across the archipelago.

In the air, the Su-35s display equal ferocity as they hunt their Indonesian quarries. They attempt to play with missile locks for ordnance they no longer carry, in hopes of forcing the A-10s into evasive maneuvers which might drop them in front of 30mm guns. There is another reason for this foolishness, however... additional Su-35 craft, armed with for R-27 MRAAMS as well as full ammunition loads and a handful of guided bombs, are enroute at top speed for Balikpapan, hoping to engage the A-10s before they catch the SRA naval contingent, which continues to press northward in hopes of avoiding interception before it finds a landing beach and unloads its troops.

On the platforms and pumping stations of the harbour, SRA helicopters have settled in alongside the troops they deposited... they have no carrier to which they can retreat, and no fuel with which to risk further attacks.

Tarakan
Light on heavier weapons, the Strainists expend ammunition freely as they challenge Indonesian attacks... if they don't kill them now, they'll have to do it later, as the airfield is useless as long as fighting continues nearby. An additional, experimental attack begins to see use as well... underslung grenade launchers, having expended fragmentation rounds into the foe already, are used to fire shells filled with a compound derived from zirconium. Though the gout of flame so produced extends some ten metres out and burns at thousands of degrees, it is not a particularly dangerous weapon out in the open. However, against massed troops it may cause some damage and perhaps more importantly, the sight of such dramatic plumes of flame blossoming as the last light of dusk slips away is hoped to have an intimidating psychological effect.

Banjarmasin
The captain of the Lyong-ti, having just settled his vessel safely away from the city, finds himself bombarded with memorial essays and traditional poetry... perhaps inexplicable to an outside observer, but to the Lyongese crew a perfectly normal part of the Strainist democratic process. While the Lyong-ti's officers may be cautious to a fault, her regular crewmen do not relish the shame of a retreat.
Efforts begin amongst the Lyong-ti's crew, to use aerial reconnaisance in an attempt to locate any Indonesian shore batteries or heavy weapons. A return seems inevitable, but while many would sail right up to the docks were the waters not too shallow, the captain has no intention of risking damage to his ship if it can be avoided.

Kendawangan
The departure of the sun from the sky does not deter Strainist advances... the invasion is not to let up for the first 24 hours, and darkness is little deterrent. Only a few decades ago, the Revolutionary Army counted itself amongst the best in the world at night-fighting, until the obsolescene of such tactics and the need for further training on modern machines saw a reduction in time devoted to such procedures. Still, tradition has ensured that all SRA troops have at least some training in nighttime operations, and as a fresh shift of forces takes over the Spyran front line it is hoped that the Indonesians will be surprised and worn out when they are denied a chance at evening rest. SRA patrols also search the jungles quietly for enemy infiltrations, or for camps of Indonesian patrol troops who have decided to rest through the night.

Naisho, Lyong
Division of the Russian fleet comes as a relief to naval commanders in Lyong, somewhat worried about the departure of their prized battleship and several submarines for combat in the south. Neither group is considered a major threat to nearby SRA fleets, particularly as Russian involvement in the theatre would put Moscow back in Beijing's sights... hardly a likely course in the minds of SRA planners. Still, troops deployed on the Russo-Spyran border rest easier amidst worries of conflict now that they have been bolstered by substantial numbers of demobilized Drapoel.

Various international capitals
Increasing attempts by Chingiz and his diplomats to play himself off as a voice for the Islamic world are openly mocked by Strainist officials. The Khagan is a petty dictator, from a long line of petty dictators, perverting the Faith with his 'Caliphate' as his father once did with a hippopotamus. There are more Muslims in the Strainist Party than there are PEOPLE under Chingiz' fist... only the foolish would accept a man who ordered gassings and ethnic cleansings in Afghanistan as anything but a pariah on the international stage.

New of a Russian fleet heading south towards Indonesia was not unexpected. After all, the Russians had been under threat from the Spyrians and the Chinese for the better part of the year. The Chinese response was fairly low key but enough to be threatening - A pair of older J-12 aircraft outfitted with reconassiance equipment would conduct close-in flyovers of the Russian fleet, playing with the Sukhois that patrolled the CAP and attempting to take photos and radar measurements of the Russian fleet.

News of Chingis's attempt to court the Australasians is portrayed by independent Chinese media as a bumbling attempt to play Raleigh and Mumbai against each other while diverting attention from the atrocities in Afghanistan.

OOC: Spyr, did the IMB gunrunners get through? Also, Royce: do you happen to know the name of the building where the Australian Prime Minister's office is (rather, the one in Canberra. As I understand it, PM Howard works out of Sydney these days)?

Raleigh, Australasia

It was a cool day in the capitol, one of those that reminded Australians exactly how close they were to the arctic circle. Governmental officials shuffled from place to place under umbrellas and pea coats. The weather and mood reflected the current feeling of the nation-- Australasia was battening down in expectation of a storm.

Military planners fussed over the position of the Home Fleet, debating whether it should remain in the Arafura Sea to bolster the numerous but woefully outdated Roik ships, or brave the Malacca Strait and dock in Akabanian Singapore. Akabana Zaibatsu's board of directors had given the Colonial Fleet permission to dock in return for, essentially, piles of money and investment opportunities, and the Knights Admiral rather felt that they should move into Indonesian waters before the Strainists closed Malacca as well. On the other hand, the MoD had little confidence in their Roycelandian allies. The Prime Minister's office took a firmly ambivalent stand, and so Rear Admiral Alexander's fleet remained where it was-- the Timor Sea.

Raleigh Int'l Airport

Daniel Spader regretted not having brought a warmer coat. Because the Caliphate was viewed with almost as much suspicion in Raliegh as it was in Mumbai, and further because intelligence suggested that Samarqand's airport left something to be desired in terms of security, the plane was being met on the tarmac. It wasn't unusual-- Air Force One usually let off the Prime Minister in the open air for the photo ops if nothing else, so Gulsana Turesbekova probably didn't see the slight. And so when Mid-Air's plane taxied to a stop, it was in the rain.

The Depakzians were a difficult proposition. The Combine was Australasia's major oil supplier, as well as a sometime ally. Raleigh was not about to begin supporting Chingiz over the Energy Minister, but perhaps a few Australasian companies could have access to the markets in the Caliphate? The Free Colony had its own designs on the Middle East-- most specifically the Suez Canal, but the fewer large powers in the region, the easier things would be in the long run. And the new Honourable Free Colonial Middle East Company (stock symbol:HMEC) was looking to break into the area with a vengeance.

After obligatory meet-and-greets, the diplomatic team was hurried off to the Foreign Ministry. Spader rather sensed that most of them, used to warm weather, were anxious enough to get inside. They were deposited in a conference room that seemed straight out of C19th Britain or Roycelandia-- cream-coloured, nicely appointed rooms with mahogany trim and antique, partially red maps. Coffee and other nibbles were served, male diplomats unbuttoned their Armani suits and Spader looked around for an inobtrusive place to hang his coat. Deciding that the back of his chair would do, he sat down heavily and popped the tabs on his attache case. Please, God, let him have removed the pornography this time.

No such luck. He slipped it beneath some memo about something and withdrew a manilla folder emblazoned with the Australasian seal. It was filled with information about Depakzian companies, the Caliphate, and the various crimes against humanity allegedly committed by Chingiz Khagan Depakzi, as well as intel reports on same. Let the negotiations begin.

The Lodge, Raleigh

It was the first time that he'd been home in some months. Drea and the kids had left two days ago, and the last boxes were now gone. Andrew sighed-- it wasn't the kind of marriage that lasted. He'd proposed to her right after coming home from the war, still flush with the thrill of being back home. And she'd said yes, despite his wildest imaginings in the South Asian jungles. Things had been going downhill ever since.

And yet... the house felt empty without someone there. Oh, there was the staff. But they were all avoiding him. It had been two months since he'd been by, three since he'd slept in the master bedroom for more than a night at a time.

The Lodge wasn't quite home anymore, but it was the site of his extensive library and his comfortable home-office. His Roik cigars were in the glass case with his officer's sword. Apart from that, though, it was bare. The out-of-court settlement that he'd made with Drea awarded her most of the furniture, the family home and the kids. Not so much because he was an incapable father, but because they hadn't wanted to see him.

Another perk of The Lodge was its extensive fine liquor collection.

Andrew ran his fingers along the mahogany of his desk. When he left this place, he wouldn't be taking it with him. It belonged to the Free Colony, not to him. As it stood, he had only a suitcase or two of clothes, a computer, a few chairs and a new-ish Rolls-Royce Corniche.

But he hadn't come to get drunk and mope about his lack of end-tables, he'd come to write out a telegram in peace, and away from the demands of his offices in the governmental complex. The MoD and the Knights Admiral were squabbling over the Home Fleet, Parliament was yelling at itself on the subject of reconstruction in Buenos Aires, and a murderous dictator's cousin in town to talk about trade deals. At least it was all quiet on the western front, with Spain suddenly retreating behind its own borders and barricading itself in for the long-haul. A bright spot in an otherwise turbulent world.

Mumbai, as capitals go, was difficult to talk to. Because it lacked a clearcut 'leader', he could never just make a phone call. Instead, Andrew had to type out a telegram for general dispersal amongst the Unioners and hope that some large faction picked it up and read it. He opened his laptop-- one of the few PCs in the Free Colony's government-- and began to type.


To Whom It May Concern,

It was not so long ago that, when called upon to list Australasia's closest allies, I found myself listing the Indian National Union amongst them. While recent developments in Southeast Asia have often strained the alliance between the Free Colony and the INU, I have hope that we might yet find common ground.

The government of Mohammed Kalla is no friend of the Free Colony, but the recent trends amongst the so-called 'Progressive Bloc' nations towards militarism and expansionism have been causes for concern. There is no question that the People's Republic of Spyr is better able to administer Indonesia than Mohammed Kalla, but the PRS' sudden invasion of Indonesia brings to mind Spain's May blitzkrieg through Portugal.

Obviously to all, Sithin is no Madrid. However, the modern world is becoming more violent as the weeks pass, with no end in sight. The Free Colony firmly believes that peace is to the benefit of all peoples, and our hope is that the situation in Indonesia can be resolved quickly and without undue bloodshed.

The PRS is much respected in the Free Colony, but its current expansionism is cause for concern. The Free Colony recognizes that its economic model and political system put it in opposition to the PRS, the ISC and to a lesser extent, the INU. If Commonwealth and PRS doctrine is to be believed, Australasia is a target for 'liberation', a clearly unsatisfactory outcome. The Free Colony has no desire to draw a latter-day Cordon Sanitaire through the Timor and Coral Seas, believing that the exchange of ideas and the continued trade between Asia and Australasia is important for international co-operation and the furtherance of the human being's rights and intellectual progress.

Rt. Hon. Sir Andrew Strathairn, KBE
Prime Minister,
Free Colony of Australasia

Raleigh

Though it was true that one or two members of her party were more comfortable with the hot summers and mild winters of Depkazia's southwest and feeling that today could stand to be thirty or forty degrees warmer, Turesbekova and most of the Depkazis could probably walk around naked on the coldest day of an Australasian winter, if their culture allowed it. The lead diplomat would have felt more comfortable up in the mountains just northeast of the city, though even they were two, three, four times closer to sea-level than would be necessary to really feel like home, but, in any event, Gulsana grew-up with two or three months of near constant snowfall each year, and so was not much put off by a slight Australasian chill.

It did however go to show just how little the outside world knew of Depkazia, a land with some of the world's highest mountains and hottest deserts, with sub-tropical reaches in between, and a history that Gulsana would not be shy in recounting once the pleasantries were past.

Addressing some of Depkazia's recent troubles, Turesbekova had to begin with past glories. She didn't bother going quite so far back as to conquest by Alexander the Great and the life of perhaps the Khaganate's most famous daughter, Roxana, or even the arrival of Chingiz -that is to say, Genghis- Khan and the early shaping of the people who now live there. Of course, Timur (Tamerlane) is the natural starting point for the Khaganate's popular historians, and the diplomat identifies his great empire as the birthright of the Depkazi people.

Gulsana describes the Depkazi Khaganate, which arose towards five centuries ago to replace Timur's empire, as protector to a large alliance of lesser Khanates in Depkazia, Kazakhstan, and parts of Afghanistan and, at times, large areas of modern China and Russia. Turkic peoples united in peace (with one another, at least). She quickly advances to the greatest sorespot in Depkazi history, and one that has lasted for generations.

"Our people were great and united" she says, "until the arrival of the Tsarists as recently as the nineteenth century. Despite our best efforts, the Khaganate was picked apart in the disturbingly titled, 'Great Game'. It is since then that we have suffered great problems. Our people were divided against eachother, shut into different states and empires designed by foreigners.

"The Russian Revolution gave many a chance for freedom, and we fought to take it, but the artificial borders and the oppression of our culture and destruction of our leadership made it an unhappy experience and one further damaged by the Bolsheviks who reconquered most of our historic lands. We tried also to stop the Chinese from taking what remained, but could not, despite many years of struggle. We tried again in Bactria and Afghanistan to fight the Soviets, and their eventual retreat finally gave Depkazis a chance to rebuild themselves only in the last fifteen years, after two centuries of oppression and foreign-ordered division.

"If, tomorrow, your enemies conquered Australasia here and in South America, and did not leave until almost the years in which Star Trek is set, do you think that Australasian civilisation could recover, reunify, and move forward peacefully and easily in less than fifteen years? I pray that your nation, all nations, never endure the same hardships as have befallen the Turkic and other Muslim peoples of Mid Asia.

"Having brought-down the isolated post-Soviet dictatorship of his cruel father, President Chingiz, Emperor Depkazi the First, Commander of the Faithful and Successor of the Prophet of the Lord of the Universe, King of the Strugglers, Khan of Khans has sent me to your great and united nation as part of a mission to the world. As we attempt to put right the disasters involved in removing the post-Soviet government (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=11795696&postcount=14) and working to rebuild the community of Islam.

"But even now we are threatened by the resurgent Tsarist Empire, which has brought the Kazakhs back under its domination and works to completely destroy what remains of their ancient identity while the communist Armandians join this cultural genocide in Afghanistan. In fact, if Towraghondi is any example, it is not just Afghanistan's culture that the communists seek to erradicate, for many hundreds were massacred, refugees from the assault welcomed with open arms into the safety of Depkazia and Bactria.

"Our government is ambitious, it is true, and it is because of this ambition that many in the world seek to discredit the rebirth of a culture they are used to oppressing and ridiculing. Our ambitions are to secure the freedom of oppressed Turks and Muslims in Afghanistan, Kazakhstan, Kashmir, and elsewhere. To halt the destruction of independent Indonesia. To develop the neglected infrastructure of what for so long have been minor provinces in foreign empires, so as to raise the standard of living in our homelands.

"I am here to seek western support in negotiations and relations with our neighbours, investment in our transport and energy infrastructure, buyers for our minerals and agricultural produce. There are thousands of brave men in the Caliphate who wish to oppose socialist domination of South East Asia but struggle to reach Indonesia safely- they desire help. There is a need for the world to recognise that the Armandian communists are the imperialist element in Afghanistan and more importantly that Depkazia is not guilty of systematic atrocity there or elsewhere. It is important that China and the Indian National Union not oppose commercial relations between the Caliphate and the west and allow the arrival of investment and the return of our short-range defensive fighters currently awaiting permission to return from Yugoslavia.

"All you need to know is that Depkazia wants foreign investment, and the communists not so much! That our potential wealth is great and presently denied to much of the world. That Depkazia opposes both communism and the Holy League! That the current administration is not to blame for the crimes of those who oppressed us as well."

Turesbekova could go on, as Depkazia felt that it had a lot to offer and a lot to ask, but for now she felt that enough talking had been done on her part to properly convey the impression of strength and liberty to negotiate enjoyed by Depkazi women, which Samarqand believed it important to clarify as part of its public-relations effort.

Elements of Depkazi media, meanwhile, lead by the largest independent network (still rather smaller than state-owned resources) was beginning to run a season on Chinese oppression of Turkic and Islamic populations, especially in the west, from the independent days of the early/mid C20th through to the Sinoese genocides and modern sidelining of non-Han culture. Samarqand officially made no real attempt to answer Chinese and Strainist slanders, as those diplomats pressed for comment would eventually describe them.

State media did continue to cover the war in Indonesia, and Depkazia sought to get journalists in to what territory remained under, 'free administration'.

In Tsarist Lavrageria, thousands of tribal Gallahktan mercenaries were congregating with large numbers of the Lavragerian Peoples Tsarist Militia. As they loaded up, miles and miles of trains were filled to overflowing, mostly cargo and military transport, but also thousands of cars of civilian transports from all across the Tsarist holdings. They were headed east, to be deployed in strength to the Far East District Command of the Divine Russian Empire. Some analysts would later remark that they were little more than shock troops. These were the proud warriors that fought the Tsarist army for three months against overwhelming odds, and they were for the most part still dressed in traditional leggings and carrying hunting rifles and RPGs, with only what they could hold on horseback.

These were tough warriors, born of warrior stock and warrior ways. They all were dirty, unkempt and except for their rifles, seemed to have walked out of a medieval history book. They still carried swords and spears, bows and arrow, and were quite adept with them. Some took goats and cattle with them; others took their young sons and nephews to serve them in the field. And during all of this, Tsarist representatives were riding throughout the countryside hiring every able bodied nomad that could fire a rifle.

They were to be commanded by Lord Morgan. He had been made a lord and served in the Duma of Tsarist Lavrageria. He was also the most powerful and respected chieftain from among the Gallahktan. A powerfully built, stocky, if somewhat short man of dark hair, he carried himself with an air of authority only derived from a lifetime of getting his own way. But with his team of Ukrainian Tsarist specialists and advisors, he began to move his warriors into the waiting train cars for the several thousand mile journey.

All along the border of the Far East District, preparations were being made for a possible invasion along that area. Supplies and arms were being brought in and mines were being laid. It was an awesome idea, all those cultures and peoples from across tow continents working under the direction of a single Tsar towards a single goal.



SOUTH PACIFIC

The large fleet that was sailing south was now entering the South China Sea steaming at a good clip south with a full CAP deployed at all times along with every anti-submarine capability deployed. Of course, to the outside observer, there were no defending subs, but the Tsar had a nasty habit of never explaining where their quite large subs were at any time, let alone now. For all anyone knew, the bulk of the sub fleet could be in the area. Lord Admiral Nicolai Perstlovski was on the bridge, coordinating his fleet with news from home and the spotty intelligence that he had to work with. He began to radio the Australasian Fleet Command for help in describing the situation and how they could be of help. OOC-I am just asking for a sit-rep in regards to where everyone is and what is going on.


NORTH ATLANTIC

Lord Admiral Vladyka Popkovich was receiving strange orders. He was to gather up the three largest icebreakers in the Divine Russian Navy and head north along the Russian Arctic Coast, sailing along that region towards the Pacific. It was a daring maneuver, even in the summer months, and one that could not have been tried before the advent of modern technology, but he was happy to have it. Quite young and inexperienced, he was picked for his loyalty to the Prime Minister Armand and the Tsarist Party rather than his skill as a commander. He was quite capable, but depended heavily on his Staff of Naval Advisors. He was told that he was being met with transports already on their way from St. Petersburg that would give him all that he needed, and could re-supply and repair, if needed when they reached the Pacific.

The Northern Fleet-
1 Kuznetsov Class Heavy Aircraft Carrying Cruiser (Aircraft Carrier)
-updated to launch MiG-29
1 Kiev Class Heavy Aircraft Carrying Cruiser (Aircraft Carrier)
1 Kirov Class Missile Battle
1 Slava Class Cruiser
5 Kashin Class Destroyers
1 Udaloy I Class Destroyer
10 Krivak Class Frigates
5 Grisha III Class Corvettes

In response to this movement, the Baltic Fleet will be taking on double duty in defense of the Coast.

Tsar Wingert the Great.

OOC: Would Depakzia please give me a more specific idea of where the nation is located?

Office of the Knights Admiral, Raleigh

Rear Admiral William Brice was atypical of the Australasian navy. He was tall and gangling, hook nosed and slightly goggle-eyed, with sallow skin and a spare frame. Upon looking at him, one might suppose that he spent little time in the sun and less at the dinnertable, and one would be right. Brice had been to sea for only a short time, commanded a single Perth class DDG, and had since served the Free Colony from a flat-faced, beige building on the outskirts of Raleigh's governmental district.

He was the head of naval intelligence, and was perhaps the most informed man in Australasia. The status report that he sent to Admiral Perstlovski was six inches thick with extraneous notes and suspected Strainist positions, as well as reports about the political position of such nations as Hudecia, the Southern Confederacy and Switzerland. It included a sixty-page report about the collapse of Neo-Anarchos, as though that was somehow related, and roughly a hundred pages were partially or entirely blacked out. There were photocopies of intercepted messages sent from Hindustani, Strainist and Acehnese radios, many of them still encoded. While Russia's top intelligence staff might be able to make something of them, few expected Perstlovski to find much.

Included was a letter from Admiral Sir Abraham Scott of the Knights Admiral, who thanked Perstlovski for his 'kind offer of assistance', but informed him that it was a South Asian matter best dealt with by the local powers. The letter made no mention of the blatant Roik presence, nor of the show of Quinntonian interest. The essential message-- obvious to all but easily deniable-- was that Australasia had no interest in co-operating with the Tsarists. The Free Colony still felt a deep and abiding hatred for France, and through that for the entire League. If the Tsar's navy showed, it would find itself facing few friends and a great many enemies.

Raleigh, Australasia

Spader chewed the interior of his lip while Ms. Turesbekova spoke at length, trying not to appear bored. Australasia wanted little in a direct sense from the Caliphate, but why turn down the investment opportunity? He'd have to make it clear that the Depakzians, while perfectly entitled to resist Strainist occupation of Indonesia, would have to do it without Australasian support. As her speech wound down, Spader formulated a response in his head.

"Ms. Turesbekova, both Parliament and myself sympathise with the Depakzian cause. However, the Free Colony has some interests in the region which conflict with actively supporting the Caliphate. However, I am able to inform you that the Honourable Middle East Company, a recently formed joint-stock company looking to diversify its financial opportunities, is very much interested in the prospect of investment.

"The Middle East Company is not a governmental organization. However, the Free Colony does own a partial controlling interest, and after extensive research it has been determined that the Caliphate would be an excellent place to expand into. Quite simply, the independance and resolve of the Depakzi people makes your nation a central part of the Middle East. You and I both know that Depakzia, despite being under attack from two larger powers, is on its way upward. While Australasia cannot, as yet, be a part of that rise, we are willing to assist in financing it.

"The Tsarists are amongst Australasia's enemies, and we fully support you in your war for freedom and independance. However, the reality of politics prevents us from rendering direct assistance. I should hope, though, that the income from the Middle East Company proves worth your time."

(OOC: Better response later, but for now: Depkazia isn't realllly in the Middle East, not since the fall of the greatest Khaganate many generations ago, but Mid Asia (Central Asia).

RL Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan represent the Turkic People's Republic of Depkazia. The Afghan provinces of Faryab, Jowzjan, Balkh, and Samangan are the West Bactrian Beylik, and Kunduz, Takhar, Baghlan, and Badakshan represent the East Bactrian Beylik, both of which are semi-autonomous components of the Depkazi Khaganate and the Caliphate. North Pakistan (RL NWFP, FATA, Northern Areas, Azad Kashmir) has just been signed-over to the Caliphate, but isn't exactly incorporated as yet. Still, all in all, it's a good 1.6m sq.km and 77m people at least in theory under the sway of Chingiz, who is meddling in Afghanistan, the INU, and China and squaring up to Russia, Armand, and Kashmir as well. And the Strainists, I suppose. Hence the desperate diplomatic missions in search of friends!)

(OCC: Very sorry for the massive delay. I didn't see that last post! This is extremely limited and I will add to it tomorrow.)

IC:

Aceh

Strainist efforts meet with some initial success even in their extremely young age, as minority populations are only too eager to point-out their oppressors once it becomes reasonably clear that the Achenese regular forces aren't about to come back. Of course, militia organizers and administrators aren't the only ones branded criminals for the SRA to round up and cart off. Many land disputes are settled by one party identifying the other as a servant of Mansur's regime, and in some places the sheer volume of accusations will likely surprise the authorities in charge of their resolution.

Ethnic Achenese will be less than satsified with their marginalization, having fought the Dutch and the Bonstockians to achieve a measure of autonomy under Sultan Mansur. For many militiamen, they are not fighting to uphold Mansur's personal dictatorship so much as they are to preserve Aceh's limited, but nonetheless unprecedented, level of independence, and a promise on Jakarta's part of at least semi-autonomy for Aceh would go a long way towards diffusing popular resistance to Strainist occupation. Javanese settlers will likely become prime targets for Achenese militia units, who would certainly rather attack those armed more like themselves than regular armor and mechanized infantry. In the long run, if carried-through to the end, Javanization will probably succeed in destroying Achenese resistance to Strainist occupation, although through violence rather than through cooperation.

Ambon

Indonesian troops are unable to withstand the pressure exerted upon them by the enemy marines and paratroops, with many times their numbers. The odds are simply too great, and, for troops with almost no training to begin with, continued resistance is even more suicidal. Those who don't surrender scatter throughout the island, traveling in small groups for the sake of easy concealment, and search for transport to Seram. Fortunately for the Indians and Strainists, there are perhaps one hundred Indonesian soldiers left on the island, not exactly a worrying force when the invaders number several thousand.

Fires in Ambon town are largely taken care-of by the invading soldiers, their job made easier by the fact that most of the blazes haven't been going for long and thus have not spread widely.

Balikpapan

Finally, after losing nearly a thousand men, the Indonesian commander at Balikpapan is convinced to deploy his full strength against the naval infantrymen poised to overrun the town. Close to a thousand troops are forced to abandon their trenches and blockhouses and join the 600 already engaging Strainist forces there. Unlike those 600 first sent out to engage the enemy, the main body of troops by now has a better idea of their enemy's strength and position, so, although Balikpapan's defenders are handled in a characteristically ham-handed fashion by their commanders, the Spyrians will doubtless notice efforts being made at probing their lines. Although the opening stages had gone very badly for the Hira Regiment, the Indonesians still hold a heavy advantage in numbers, one that will only grow even after the Strainist reinforcements land. If the Regiment can move a significant portion of its strength into areas recently secured by the Spyrians, they might very well be able to surround and destroy the invaders for good. Sappers carrying more Ultimax machine guns and Matadors than M-16s mount lightning attacks on enemy strong points, attempting to overwhelm them with a mixture of surprise and firepower. There are not, after all, a great many structures in Balikpapan that are about to deflect a Matador warhead. And for buildings that are particularly well-built, the Indonesians have satchel charges. These sapper units, formed hastily and given very little specialist training, are sure to suffer heavy losses, and will likely not exist by the end of the battle, but for every gain they make, there are companies of regular infantrymen waiting to exploit gaps.

All the while, relief columns, containing a further 1,500 men in total, continue to move south from Samarinda, spearheaded in some cases by Saladin armored cars, perhaps the only vehicles on Kalimantan that could hope to challenge Strainist armor. Time is, they know, of the essence, and the Indonesians travel at high speed, fully intent on smashing through any ambushes that might wait for them on the road towards Balikpapan. The columns are often escorted by UH-1s, with MG3 machine guns in door positions and carrying groups of heavily-armed infantrymen. If any ambushes are encountered, airborne units will try both to distract the enemy from the convoys and cut-off the enemy's retreat. Another Huey formation carries another 150 troops for the defense of Sepinggan Airport, presently held by 200 light infantrymen who are mostly engaged in the destruction of its infrastructure, expecting to face an attack by superior enemy forces.

No.105 Squadron, or rather what is left of it, does not hold up too well against the Strainist fighters, who quickly down another A-10. Abandoning the attack on the enemy frigates, the rest of the pilots occupy themselves with desperate low-altitude manouvering, in the hopes that the Warthog's relative agility will keep them alive long enough for the Su-35s to run out of fuel. With the odds very much stacked against them, and with missile-armed enemy reinforcements inbound, survival does not seem all too likely. But No.105 Squadron's impending destruction might serve to offer No.107 Squadron, Indonesia's last intact fighter unit, a chance for a successful attack. If five Hawks could destroy the enemy helicopter carrier, Kadisiya Regiment commanders in Samarinda are of the opinion that fifteen can do the same to a pair of old frigates. No.107 Squadron's aircraft take off from Samarinda's airfield very early in the morning, loaded with 250kg bombs and centerline ADEN cannon pods, and fly out over the Makassar Strait at low level. They hope to spot the enemy silouetted against the rising sun, and if things go their way, they will be in and out before Su-35s have a chance to react.

The Hira Regiment in Balikpapan has, at the moment, no way to deal with enemy troops on the offshore facilities, as valuable as they are. This situation will change once reinforcements, equipped with 70mm rocket artillery, arrive from Samarinda, but until then the Indonesians have more pressing matters to deal with.

Tarakan

Thanks in large part to the surprise caused by Spyrian "flamethrowers," the highly costly, and mostly unsuccessful, massed frontal attacks are abandoned by the Indonesian troops in Tarakan. Focus is quickly shifted to surrounding the enemy at the airport, and thus cutting-off access for reinforcements or evacuation. As is the case in Balikpapan, sapper units are created on the spot, concentrating several LMGs and Matador rocket launchers in single infantry sections. These try to stealthily flank Strainist positions, and take advantage of the darkness to conceal their movements as they slink through alleyways and across rooftops. Of course, they are far from expert night-fighters, while the Spyrian troops are well-versed in nocturnal warfare, so these sappers regularly meet violent ends after foolishly exposing their whereabouts. But where they do arrive near enough the enemy positions to mount attacks, the sappers must make a fearsome sight themselves, drum-fed Ultimax 100s blazing away in the darkness as they charge through Matador-made breeches.

Banjarmasin

Celebration over the hit scored on the Lyong-ti quickly subsides once it becomes clear that the ship has not in fact fled the battle. Troops once again seek the protection of bomb shelters and blockhouses, and prepare to wait-out another bombardment, if it does not kill them this time. If the Spyrian battleship does take its chances closer to shore, it has less to worry about, since the 203mm guns that had hit the ship, and had since been knocked-out, are Banjarmasin's largest. The rest, Second World War-vintage 152mm cruiser or 120mm destroyer pieces, pose even less of a threat than the 203mm guns. Granted, there are quite a few of them, and, if given the opportunity, Indonesian gunners will try their hardest to hit some valuable piece of equipment, even if they can't hope to do damage against the armor.

Kendawangan

Indonesian units suffer heavily at the hands of the Strainists, much better-versed in night fighting, and when firefights do occur, they are generally quite one-sided. Soldiers of the Yarmuk Regiment are not equipped with any night vision equipment and do not recieve enough training as it is, so most infiltration efforts end in disaster.

West Timor Sea, off Port Darwin

The deck of the FCS Ark Royal was abuzz with activity. Hornets were hastily shifted below as the crew milled their way to parade formation. Ground crews prepared to recieve a Seahawk helecopter, just visible as a slowly growing black dot above the calm waters. The crew of the Ark Royal were dressed in their full dress whites, sweating under the still-bright Australian sun. Rear-Admiral Alexander Alexander carried his ceremonial sword, the gold braid on his uniform sparkling in the light of high noon.

The SH-60 Seahawk steadily grew, and before long the sound of its rotors became noticeable. Thwock-thwock-thwock-thwock. The ground crews, the only ones aboard who wore their standard dress apart from a skeleton crew keeping the carrier steady and at anchor, scurried away as the big Quinntonian-made helecopter touched down. The rotors blew dust and bits of rubber up from the deck, the detritus of a hundred landings in the last week.

As the rotors died, the ground crews ran up and attached fuel hoses to the helecopter for its flight back to Port Darwin. The side door slid open, and a small footstool was placed at the exit. The entire crew was silent for a moment, all caught up in the strangely tense moment that preceeded the meeting of a new commander.

When Hugo Damascus stepped out of the Seahawk, he was somewhat disappointing. His face was recognizeable to anyone, having been plastered across the Free Colony after his victory at the 12th of June. But they had expected a bigger man. One taller, wider and altogether more fitting of the reputation. The real Damascus was short, squat and red-faced. His uniform was white duty-dress, no sword hung from his hip. In contrast to the young and aristocratic Alexander, Damascus was shabby and decrepit-looking.

The boatswain's pipe trilled its piercing notes, and Damascus made the short walk to stand before Alexander with passable grace. He bowed, his expansive middle making it ungainly, and asked in a gruff voice,

"Permission to come aboard, Admiral." Alexander made his own bow, skillfully sweeping the sword away from his legs, and replied,

"Permission granted." Alexander stepped to the side, allowing Damascus to pass. The older man stumped his way to a small podium, which he mounted laboriously before fishing a folded piece of paper from his breast pocket. He opened it, cleared his throat and addressed the assembled crew.

"Vice Admiral Hugo Damascus,
You are requested and required to take command of the Home Fleet, and all vessels, officers and men included therein. You shall thence proceed forthwith to the port of Singapore via the Malacca Strait, whereupon you shall reprovision and patrol the area surrounding. You are hereby given permission to violate the territorial waters of Spyr, Sujava, Indonesia, Malaysia or those of any other State which may prove detrimental to your progress.
Signed,
The Knights Admiral of the Free Colony of Australasia."

By the reading of his orders, Damascus assumed command of the Home Fleet. Admiral Alexander, meanwhile, was out of a job until he arrived in Buenos Aires, and took his leave with a minimum of fuss. His steward, a dapper young man from Sydney, carried his trunk into the cargo area of the Seahawk before boarding himself, closely followed by the rear admiral.

Cyprus, Island Fleet

Vice Admiral Peter M. Denning,

The vessels previously diverted to the Australian theatre are to remain at Cyprus pending combat operations. Two fishing trawlers converted to minesweapers en-route. Proceed forthwith to clear mines in the Western Mediterranean and prepare for major combat operations. Further orders to be sent as situation develops.

The Office of the Knights Admiral

[OOC: Gurg, will reply to ships into Banda Aceh once I know how close to the city the SRA’s line can be pushed in the initial thrust].

+0:17:00

http://img346.imageshack.us/img346/4836/garudabadluckds8.gif

Aceh

Doubtless the Acehnese will have somewhat mixed impressions of Strainist propaganda... it does speak of democracy and freedom, but it also calls for brotherhood. It is quite specific in targeting the Sultan, Mohammed Kalla, and the Indonesian state rather than the Acehnese themselves, but promises of economic prosperity imply greater changes than just removal of the leadership. And, while the Strainists have proven true to their word once before, letting Aceh secede from a newly-formed Sujava after losing a referendum there, they ARE invading now. In these initial hours, the determination and Javanese racism which pervades Strainist attitudes towards Aceh’s future will not yet be apparent, which may help the Party’s efforts until their influence creeps out in the coming weeks.

Ambon

With the area pacified, efforts begin immediately to retrieve Hindustani marines for rest and preparation, to be ready for a resumption of operations elsewhere amongst the Malukus. Para-sappers are joined by increasing numbers of SRA soldiers, many relatively new recruits, tasked with repairing infrastructure and maintaining peace. Party officials also appear, standing at soup kitchens and medical clinics to call upon the newly liberated populace to join the Strainist Party and participate in the ‘shining future of freedom and prosperity’.

Balikpapan

Disaster at Balikpapan is imminent, and SRA forces fighting there are increasingly aware of it as the shore defenders turn to face them. Reinforcements depend upon the seizure of the port, and that goal seems increasingly unlikely in the face of determined resistance.
Strainist marines continue to fight as hard as they can against the Indonesians, while commanders look for potential lines of retreat.

The incoming Su-35s reach missile range as their tired counterparts pull off and run for home with their last bit of fuel, leaving no one to deal with the craft of No.107 squadron. These attackers, however, will find their task much more difficult than was that of their counterparts who downed the SRA’s merchant carrier. The elder troopship has only a deck mounted machine gun, mounted with a suspiciously good arc to cover the ship’s own deck rather than the sky above (an FRB legacy). But, in addition to the Mistrals of the three elder frigates in the Strait are the more modern sensors and SAMs of the troopship’s escort destroyer. With radar capable of detecting aircraft out at over 450km, it is not long before even the low-flying Hawks are detected inbound, and the exhaust plumes of missiles light the darkening sky above the Makassar Strait. Having lost one ship already, no thought is paid to conservation of ammunition. The Indonesians, after all, have little left to put in the air, and with forces surrounded in the nearby city, there is little time to waste on worries over supply.

On Java, dozens of Su-35 aircraft are prepared for a new bombing mission, against the Indonesian column moving south from Samarinda. It is hoped that they can be readied in time to catch the column while it still rushes southward, so they might be slowed and blunted before they smash into marines at Balikpapan.

Tarakan

The Strainists fight increasingly defensively against enemy probes... but for an army whose doctrine bears influence of both Soviet Union and Imperial Japan, ‘defense’ hardly means sitting still.

Enemy attacks cause great difficulty, but where possible the Strainists use their superior night-fighting experience to remain hidden, letting Indonesians pass across their lines before opening fire from the side or rear. Given that the Strainist defense is a deep one rather than a single line, finding such a gap will not be immediately suspicious, and the surprise may have an effect, but the Strainist goal is not a tactical advantage but a logistical one... if they can down an infiltration team, the Matadors and Ultimex MGs left behind can be turned against the enemy.

Banjarmasin

The Lyong-ti eventually resumes its bombardment of the city, sweeping its guns along the shoreline in an attempt to pulverize anything which dares remain in place there while Strainist propaganda continues to broadcast images of Ujung Pandang and the reduction of Indonesia’s foremost fortification to smouldering rubble.

Aceh

Indeed, the Achenese will not be able to form any definitive opinions on the Strainist campaign's social aspects in the space of a few days, and certainly not with Mansur's army still very much in the field. With the Uhud Regiment's Leopards redeployed to Lhokseumawe with more or less their full numbers, the M-T-L line has nothing to do besides sit and wait for the Strainist assault to begin in earnest, and hope that militia units are able to cause backups in the Strainist columns. Decoy positions will hopefully take the bulk of enemy artillery fire, allowing the heavily-camoflauged blockhouses and mortar emplacements to escape the worst of the bombardment. On the M-T-L line itself, there are close to 8,000 Indonesians, and even if they were equipped with armor and artillery they would still be outnumbered by at least five thousand. Making matters worse is the fact that, of those 8,000 men, only around 2,000 could be called regular soldiers, with the difference being made up of conscripts in usually low states of readiness. The destroyed Badr Regiment had performed well, more or less, and cost the Strainist advance a fair few tanks, even if it was at the cost of most of Aceh's surviving armor. Around 40 Leopard 2s survive to carry-on the battle around Lhokseumawe, with another two able to limp into Takengon ahead of the enemy advance, the extent of Mansur's tank forces after the opening round of battle. These will have to fight several hundred T-92s, a prospect that few Achenese tankers are terribly excited about, and hours are spent digging shelters for their outnumbered vehicles in an effort to maximize the advantages offered by position.

Mansur doesn't rely on human soldiers alone to delay the Strainists ahead of Banda Aceh. Achenese troops had, for several years, been engaged in laying extensive minefields behind the blockhouses and tank obstacles, forms of weaponry that will doubtless cause problems for Aceh and Strainist casualties long after the Sultan himself has absconded. Some roadways through the relatively mountainous terrain have been blocked by large stockades of felled trees, others by concrete dragon's teeth or hedgehogs. Often these are backed-up by surplus bombs, rigged to explode under a certain amount of pressure. And Mansur certainly has enough Matadors, Armbrusts, and RPG-7s to arm a fair few two-person antitank teams. Of course, a more daunting obstacle than the M-T-L line is the confidently-named Banda Aceh Stop Line, just outside the capital, and manned by Mansur's personal guard, easily the second most capable fighting raised by the IRI. The Guard is present in very nearly full strength on the Banda Aceh Stop Line, with 7,000 men manning the various strongpoints and blockhouses. Many carry Singaporean SAR-21s or FN-FNC variants in place of the standard-issue M-16, signifying their status as separate from Kalla's Islamic Guard, and can thus boast personal weapons that are at least as advanced as the Spyrian R-88, perhaps moreso in the case of the SAR-21. Of course, the Spyrians will have to attack through the handful of remaining regular troops and the conscripts before they face Mansur's personal forces.

Balikpapan

No.105 Squadron is, unsurprisingly, destroyed by the Spyrian Su-35s after a desperate but quite doomed attempt at evasion. Several A-10 pilots do indeed survive to eject into the Makassar Strait, and, with the shoreline some distance off, they can only hope for Strainist charity. No rescue will be forthcoming from the Indonesian side, that much they can be fairly certain of. At least they can take pride in the fact that they held-up Strainist fighters that might have otherwise been used to bomb Indonesian soldiers on Sulawesi or Halmahera. Balikpapan, however, seems pretty well covered by the Spyrians.

Despite the fact that they have managed to escape enemy air superiority fighters, the Hawks of No.107 Squadron do not escape heavy losses. They had not, after all, expected to encounter a modern air defense destroyer, after listening to reports radioed back by No.105 Squadron's portion of Hawks. Ex-Bonstockian Leanders don't need to make use of their Mistrals, since the destroyer downs eight aircraft in the first salvo. When stunned pilots look around and see no enemy ships, they realise the fact of Strainist reinforcements, and the eight surviving aircraft, three of them damaged, head back for Samarinda. They aren't about to try and charge a ship that can attack the Hawks with total impunity, as did the aircraft of No.106 Squadron, with disastrous results. Survivors would be put to much better use launching attacks on enemy landing parties, especially the one at Tarakan, seven servicable combat aircraft amounting to a veritable bomber stream as far as the Kadisiya Regiment is now concerned.

Indonesian relief columns take heavy losses from the Strainist bombing raid, and the task of delaying their arrival in Balikpapan is very much accomplished. All four Indonesian columns are hit and forced to pause and clear destroyed vehicles from the road. Several Saladin and Saracen AFVs are destroyed, but, fortunately, the bulk of Kalimantan's armored cars remain intact, if unable to move as quickly as would be liked. Troops, though, aren't to be found in their vehicles, and take cover beside the roadways while RBS-70 crews watch the skies for enemy aircraft that come close enough to engage. And once the roads are cleared of destroyed vehicles, troops are not entirely eager to climb back into their transport, wary of additional bombing raids.

Tarakan

Lacking quite a bit in the way of training, and certainly without the same degree of tactical skill as the Spyrians, the Indonesian sappers take very heavy losses for very few gains. It was a mistake, it seems, to try and challenge the Strainist troops in an area that they have such experience in, and after the loss of a fair few valuable Ultimax and Matador weapons, the attack parties are disbanded. With their efforts largely in vain, the Indonesian commanders decide to hold-off on trying to destroy the Spyrians at night, and concentrate on surrounding the enemy position at the airport. When Spyrian positions are encountered, the Indonesians attempt to disengage as quickly as possible, eager to preserve strength when further ekranoplan-borne enemy reinforcements are considered likely to arrive. Hopefully, the business in Balikpapan will be concluded soon enough for troops currently fighting there to be redeployed northward, before the Strainists are able to consolidate their position much further. The likely victory at Balikpapan will, after all, be worth little if the Strainists secure another beachhead in the north, where Indonesian forces are not present in strength.

In a record time for the usually time-consuming process, the PRS has recieved clearance to purchase advanced weaponary from Beijing after 5 days. The process usually takes months, and in a shot across the bow of Australasia, it seems the first shipment to Spyr was the cancelled BVRAAMs ordered by Australasia.

No one in the administration has made a serious attempt to address the rift between Australasia and China which were caused by Chang's comments last week, but Hu Jin Tao has invited his counterpart Spader to visit China "after the election."

Austria looks on in something resembling approval. Approval as in the sort which look like approval from your perspective but looks like a condemning look for your enemies.

Austria knows that it doesn't like socialism, need over workable economics and whatnot, but it really doesn't know that it likes Moslems.

So, Maxen von Bismark muses on if he is going to say anything.

He is deciding that he needs to have another Sudentland speech, the Chinamen (Assorted Asian races that Maxen classifies in one homogenius class) were having all the fun.

OCC: Er...it just so happens that I was somewhat incorrect in my conception of Sepinggan Airport's position relative to Balikpapan.

http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=-1.268333,116.894444&spn=0.03,0.03

This sattelite picture shows it on the water, and thus, I would imagine, relatively easy to get to for Spyrian heliborne troops.

The Free Colony, still in a bit of a snit over the insults paid to its Prime Minister, is not to be expected to change its tune while Beijing arms the PRS to near-pairity with the ALRAAMs of Roycelandia.

As a result, Spader sends a snippy little reply to Mr. Hu suggesting that Beijing cease arming 'communist revolutionaries' engaged in 'ongoing military operations that threaten Australasian interests' before exploring diplomatic relations with the Free Colony. The message is relatively clear: we trusted you, and you went behind our backs and supported Sithin, after going behind our backs and supporting the ISC. We see no particular need to trust you again. Now sod off.

The remaining BVRAAM missile stocks, as well as a few emergency-purchased BAe Meteor, should last the Free Colony for the remainder of the month. Procurement of the ALRAAM, as well as software upgrades thereof, are stepped up. The first shipment is scheduled for mounting on two squadrons of AF/A-18s in Northwestern Australia later this week.

OOC: As an actual imperialist, I should like to disassociate myself from Maxen von Bismarck, the whackjob. :P

Sulawesi

Although they are by a long shot the most powerful, the Strainist escorts are not the only warships in the Makassar Strait. Under the cover of darkness, Indonesian trawlers sortie out from ports on the west side of Sulawesi, taking advantage of the Strainists' preoccupation with air raids conducted from Samarinda to conduct their operations in relative peace. Warship might be a stretch, as far as many of the Kadisiya Regiment's newest vessels are concerned, with many of them being barely seaworthy as it is, and hardly fit for combat. But they putter out into the strait none the less, their decks loaded with a variety of sea mines. The best trawlers are used to deposit drifting contact mines some distance out, while the less-safe ships drop moored and floating mines further inshore. Naval officers are occasionally on hand to direct the laying of minefields, but between the variety of vessels and weapons being deployed, the lack of radio communication, and simple inexperience, the first casualties are not Strainists. Fortunately, most of the trawlers lack the displacement to disturb pressure mines, and captains take the utmost care to avoid the contact mines, their sinister-looking hertz horns poking above the water's surface. The effort is much more coordinated off Manado, where the laying is done by Todak patrol boats, many of them crewed by veterans of Bonstock's navy.

Minelaying trawlers take to the water in the Teluk Bono (s.p.?), and set minefields near Palopo in order to discourage an amphibious landing behind the line of semi-prepared defenses at the top of the Southwest Peninsula. They also operate off Kendari, part of the effort to deny the use of that port to any prospective Strainist landing force, while frogmen rig piers and other important pieces of infrastructure with demolition charges. Palu, on the west coast, is especially heavily-mined, its narrow approaches serving to amplify the effectiveness of sea mines, while shore batteries are in place to discourage sweeping efforts. Of course, Kalla's supply of such weaponry is limited, and some areas, like the Teluk Tomini, are left largely unprotected by minefields.

On the island itself, the Mecca and Khandaq regiments move to block the enemy advance up the Southwest Peninsula. While the Hunayn Regiment beats a fighting retreat northward, Kalla's as of yet uncommitted 15,000-strong main force will take up position roughly level with Enrekang. The two regiments will be seperate, however, the Mecca Regiment charged with defending the road up the coast towards Polewali, and the Khandaq Regiment responsible for the route towards the mountains. Rough terrain in the center will hopefully shield the Indonesian regiments from an enemy flanking manouver. Of course, if the Strainists make another landing on the Southeast Peninsula, they won't have to deal with any regular regiment. Such an eventuality would, therefore, call for a change of plans, but it is assumed that the enemy capacity for large-scale amphibious operations was largely spent at Makassar.

Kalla, who is understandably concerned about enemy numbers, is quick to inact massive conscription, for which every able-bodied male is eligible. As is the case in Aceh, conscription on Sulawesi is very much a haphazard affair, with all males, and occasionally all fit-looking females, being rounded-up by regency and MSP troops. After being issued with a rifle, an armband, and a cap, conscripts are sent to join battalions for deployment, even though most entirely lack military training and are not formally issued with a rank. Self-proclaimed Seargents and Lieutenants, most of them veterans of the Bonstockian army, rise to command by consensus and by the simple lack of trained officers. Where the new conscript units will be deployed remains a mystery, and it will depend on the success of the regular forces in the south and the occurrance of any other enemy landings. Nobody expects them to stand against the experienced, battle-hardened enemy troops, in open warfare. But through the use of guerilla tactics, the thousands of armed Sulawesians might force upon the enemy delays that could be exploited by retreating regular forces.

+1:06:00

[OOC: On Balikpapan… you may have made a minor error, but I seem to have made one far worse. I can’t for the life of me find the off-shore platforms that I was so certain were there, and I’ve been unable to locate the source which told me they existed. I’m hallucinating oil derricks, apparently, unless they’re quite a distance away up or down the coast…]

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http://img211.imageshack.us/img211/3964/13sranewsday2tr6.jpg

“Good Morning, comrades! I’m leftenant Vas Suripono and you’re watching the Revolutionary Army Broadcasting Service.

Today marks the second day of renewed revolution in Sujava, as local peoples unite with the Strainist Revolutionary Army to cast off their feudal chains and seek the light of freedom and prosperity. Combined Revolutionary forces have proven unstoppable across the Indonesian archipelago, scattering the armies of oppression before them as they raise high the red banners. Casualties amongst such forces remain light, as does damage to civil infrastructure, save in areas where desperate feudal troops have attempted resistance using extreme measures... but even this has not saved them from the might of the People’s Will. Officers on the ground predict that it will not be long before enemy forces are expelled from the last villages to which they cling, driven into the dirt by the insurmountable force that is the Revolutionary spirit.

Yet, like filthy scavengers hoping for a feast of rotten flesh, the shadows of imperialism gather in hope that they might prolong the suffering of oppressed peoples and expand their barbarism into Asia. All Party members are encouraged to practice due watchfulness, and to approach their labours with Revolutionary dedication, so that such paper tigers scatter before the divine wind of the People’s Will.”

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

Sithin, PRS

As the second day of the conflict dawned, documents concerning its authorization entered into public record in Sithin. The Strainist legislative process was a complex one, with proposals and memorials passing through layers of committees before they were approved, and this case was no different: the effort to remove Mohammed Kalla first appears as a draft proposal from the Indonesian Archipelago Policy Committee, put forward by an official of Dayak descent, passing easily through moral vetting by the Quranic Advisory Committee and ideological analysis from the Central Committee. The vote in the People’s Congress, the Party’s main democratic organ, proceeded somewhat less quickly, with objections raised by members known to follow more pacifist or hardline Islamic positions and a noticeable division between eager Sujavans and more cautious Lyongese. As is often the case in a system which records not votes but consensus, the extent of opposition remains unclear in the written record, but eventually sufficient agreement is achieved to send the motion back to the Central Committee for final approval and debate on specifics.
This final debate is notable for surprising agreement amongst Central Committee members, particularly the factions of Fiyatamo Joshi and Rosh Ket, the former influential amongst Lyongese bureaucrats and the latter amongst the Revolutionary Army. No one familiar with the Party will believe that they have set aside their past disagreements in the name of comradeship. Most unusually, the Party’s chairman Shiwen-daisu does not appear to have been present during the proceedings.

In the end, the Party’s rationale for the conflict becomes apparent.

-Ideological Imperative: As might be expected, ideology plays a key role: citing quotations from various Strainist works, the argument is made that the Party is obliged to engage in Revolutionary war to liberate oppressed peoples, and that since the means already exist to do so in Indonesia there ought be no delay. Also cited here is a common belief in Sujava, that their own revolution was meant to be a pan-Bonstock phenomenon, and ought be pushed forward closer to completion.

-Religious Obligation: With the influence of Sujavan Islam felt at all levels of the Party, its presence in the debate is hardly surprising... a Party born out of animist tradition is hardly going to champion secularism when so many members share a single faith. Though not technically binding, the opinions of Sujava’s Islamic scholars carries sufficient weight to halt a motion if it does not meet their approval.
In this case, that approval is forthcoming: as the Strainists are obliged to liberate, so too are Muslims, particularly when it concerns a man (Mohammed Kalla) who has been declared apostate by the Sujavan ulema.

-Legal Vacuum: An unusual argument emerges, more technical than practical, presenting the argument that operations against Indonesia are not hostile towards a state, for no Indonesian state exists. The provisional constitution left behind by Hudecia was neither renewed nor replaced under Mohammed Kalla, who ignored its call for a democratically-elected government. Perhaps more importantly in relation to Sujava, the province of Aceh has held no elections since it chose to join with Indonesia, despite still being obliged to do so by international agreements. The current governments in Indonesia are thus little more than armed thugs enforcing petty tyranny, and thus annexation by Sujava is a necessity.

-Response to Aggression: All in all, some six thousand ‘instances of aggression’ are cited, spread over the time since the fall of the FRB. Many are minor... fishing boats crossing the median lines of shared water bodies, Indonesian imams issuing fatwahs against Strainist Party members, et cetera. Others are more serious: Acehnese raids along the border in Sumatra, attempts by Indonesia-sponsored terrorist group Jemmah Islamiah to plant explosives or carry out assassinations against Sujavans, pirate attacks on Strainist shipping. One instance is cited, from the days before the departure of the Hudecians from Sulawesi: the bombing of Bali, when Western aircraft bearing Hudecian and Quinntonian markings attacked civilian areas on the island of Bali, killing dozens and wounding over a hundred. That Kalla was responsible has long been obvious to many... if the Western powers did not themselves commit the atrocity then Kalla was (and remains) the only man in the region to command A-10 attack aircraft. The Strainists had not been eager to give up the ambiguity, however... without evidence, the issue could be turned as needed against the foe-of-the-day for propaganda purposes. That the Party’s Justice Committee issued a final ruling exonerating Western occupation forces and convicting Kalla’s Islamic Guard a mere two hours before the motion to attack Indonesia reached the People’s Congress is not likely a coincidence.

These justifications, without much explanation, appear in the statements of Strainist officials as they respond to foreign queries.
“Obliged by faith and ideals, we move to join with revolutionary elements in Indonesia, with the aim of replacing the brutal and chaotic system currently holding power there... one which cannot itself lay true claim to statehood, being rather an organization of terrorists and exploiters who have pursued a course of direct aggression against Sujava since their founding”.

As Roycelandian ships move in support of Australasia and Quinntonia murmurs of involvement, Strainist propaganda efforts take up a new theme, not only domestically and in Indonesia, but in nations across Asia. It took days, hours even, for condemnation and military movements to begin from Washington and Port Royal against the liberation of Indonesia. How long did it take them to move in opposition to invasions and horrible atrocities perpetrated by the Holy League in Africa and the Iberian? Over a month, and even then only because the Indian Soviet Commonwealth was willing to stand up with all its power to defend the people of Libya from even greater massacres! How long did it take them to respond to France building massive military facilities on the Philippines, and mustering there an army whose purpose was to be the re-conquest of Southeast Asia into a new Indochine? Why, the USQ didn’t respond to that at all and the Roiks were bloody well right there beside Versailles!

Their reaction now indicates for all to see the true nature of such powers... they are utterly racist in their policies. Such bare-faced racism cannot be allowed involvement in the Asian sphere, where powers such as Sujava, and Hindustan have proven themselves willing to act selflessly in the name of what is right. If their ships sail the waters of Asia, if their troops set foot on Asian soil, it can be only for the purpose of imposing domination and imperialism. Asia united to cast out the imperial oppression of Bonstock. Asia united cast out the tendrils of imperialism as they moved to strangle the Philippines and Southeast Asia. Asia must unite again against encroachment by those Western powers who look upon her now with naught but racism and colonialism in their hearts, to send them a message that they have no place here.

West Kalimantan (Pontianak/Singkawang)

The second dawn of the conflict in Indonesia brought with it another wave of Strainist attacks from both air and sea. A wave of bombs from Su-35 aircraft and ship-launched guided missiles opens the latest front, this time against positions in Pontianak and the surrounding area, as well as further north. SRA landing craft, having moved by night to positions in the Riau islands, soon make their move and launch against the beaches stretching out for a dozen kilometers south of the city of Singkawang… the white sands which attracted FRB-era resorts thought to be optimal for driving hovercraft straight across the beaches from the water before enemy shore positions can do too much damage.

http://img59.imageshack.us/img59/6158/beachattackgarudadk8.gif

Aceh

PEOPLE OF ACEH: Tomorrow the Strainist Revolutionary Army will commence bombardment of military targets in Aceh, with the goal of their complete destruction. All civilians and soldiers in the following cities are advised to evacuate as soon as possible so that they are not harmed during these efforts:

Meulaboh
Jeuram
Isak
Takengon
Lhokseumawe
Bireuen
Rumahbaru.

Strainist leaflets continue to rain down across Indonesia, the night having afforded propagandists with the opportunity to become more specific in their efforts. In Aceh and elsewhere, lists of potential bombing targets are included, less to save the civil populace than to spread fear through Indonesian lines, perhaps breaking demoralized conscripts and opening holes without any bombs at all. In a few places where Sujavan citizens have family or friendly ties amongst the Indonesian populace, handwritten mail is dropped, filled with entreaties to join the Party’s efforts towards liberation… the likelihood that such messages will reach those to whom they are addressed is low, but such personal appeals may arouse sympathy for the Strainist cause amongst those who find them.
Another example of specified propaganda targets military units which the Strainists have identified by name… these messages declare that a particular unit will be ousted by overwhelming force, that a position they occupy is scheduled for heavy bombardment, or that their officers (where individual names are known to SRA intelligence operatives) are to be captured by special forces and ‘popular local elements’. Again, while some positions will indeed face the threats advertised by the leaflets, the goal is to set enemy soldiers wavering or fleeing from their posts.

The Strainists are not eager to push through the Acehnese line immediately, though original plans had aimed to encircle Banda Aceh within 48 hours… a timeframe which leaves the Revolutionary Army only one more day before they must admit to failure. Forces are consolidated and prepared for an eventual assault just back from the front lines, while security and relief efforts continue in newly-captured territory. Bombardment, however, is incessant from both aircraft and artillery, though thermobaric warheads are kept in reserve. The Strainists, always cautious, often waste many rounds bombarding the fake posts set up by the Acehnese, but the SRA has learned many lessons from their neighbours in the CPRD… one of which is that there is no such thing as ‘too much’ artillery. Aircraft are used more sparingly, for reconnaissance sometimes followed by strikes with laser-guided bombs if Acehnese tanks or heavy concentrations are spotted.

Along the coast, having secured the outlying islands in the southwest, SRA ships begin to advance north, gathering intelligence from aircraft so they might support an eventual assault with cruise missiles.

Just outside Banda Aceh, beneath the surface of the sea, one more piece has taken up position. A Strainist submarine sits with eyes fixated upon the port, paying close attention to movements there in case the Sultan attempts to flee… the SRA has no intention of letting an Acehnese noble escape their clutches to become another Bao Dai in the grip of the Holy League or its fellow imperialists. Of course, the submarine is not about to try and restrict shipping into Banda Aceh… not while the Sultan’s helicopters and shore guns may be waiting to return fire.

Sulawesi

At the heart of Indonesia, the SRA pushes slowly northward overnight, as fresh troops and armour are ferried in through Makassar. Though they might like to cut between the two Islamic Guard regiments before them, the Indonesians are right… the terrain in the centre becomes too rough too quickly. Some Lyongese officers groan that their mountain-capable T-92s are for the most part fighting in Aceh or staring down the Tsar, but even they would be hard-pressed to move in sufficient numbers to overwhelm Kalla’s men. Instead, two prongs push up the roads on either side of the peninsula, the western push aiming for Polewali and the eastern Palopo. Each can boast a spearhead of modernized T-55 tanks… the veteran design providing fire support and shielding from small-arms fire rather than hoping for an armoured clash. Of course, given the thick blanket of reactive armour coating the tanks, the accompanying infantry are careful not to get TOO close.

Air support in these operations consists almost entirely of Su-35s with laser-guided bombs, loitering in shifts above the advancing columns until given targets by their infantry comrades. As their substantial fuel reserves run low, most will disgorge their ordnance over the closest Indonesian target they can spot before returning home across the Java Sea. Sometimes fighters will probe further over Sulawesi's population centres, snapping photographs and dropping propaganda leaflets advising the populace to avoid Kalla's conscription efforts so they are not slain beside their dictator during his inevitable obliteration.

Night-time mining operations by the Indonesians come as a bit of a surprise, and while a patrol aircraft might strafe a minelaying trawler if it happened to spot it, no concerted effort to deal with matters occurs. Sulawesi is a long-term problem, and as long as Makassar is secure it can be dealt with eventually… perhaps the Hindustanis can entice some starving Soviet marines to speed the process along, but that seems unlikely. The mines will have to be cleared, but for now Strainist efforts concentrate mostly on determining how widespread the mining effort was and what areas are affected… with a great deal of coastline to cover, this in of itself will take a great deal of time.

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http://img211.imageshack.us/img211/3999/13pnnnewsday2rr6.jpg

“Good Morning, this is Kie Daizheng for the People’s News Network.

Fighting continues today in Sujava, as the Strainist Revolutionary Army continues its operations against the regime of Mohammed Kalla in Indonesia. Current reports indicate that Strainist troops are pushing back forces loyal to Kalla despite heavy fighting and casualties which include the merchant vessel Kajia, converted to carry military helicopters earlier this year... total casualty statistics have yet to be released by the Revolutionary Army, which has stated that it expects to wrap up combat operations within a week, once provisional authorities can be put in place and Islamic Guard remnants contained. Sources within the academic community have criticized such assertions as overly optimistic, predicting that a much longer campaign will be required to eliminate Kalla loyalists engaged in unconventional operations.

International reaction to the current conflict has been mixed, with force contributions by Hindustan joined with Chinese support in a reminder of past pan-Asian agreement. Raleigh and Tokyo have not followed suit, voicing displeasure over SRA action against Indonesia.”

PM Vanessa Moerike is again shocked at what most Quinntonians believe to be the rantings of a Commie nutcase. Jesse Obed wisely led the Quinntonian people through the murky waters that are South East Asian politics for over twenty years, but faced horrible opposition for years before a respect was earned.

The Quinntonian embassy to Sithin would of course point out that it was a Quinntonian Fleet that stopped the rogue Russian Admiral and the French warships from affecting a rescue of the ex-Tordian monarch. And Quinntonia has been the absolute and unquestioned leader in giving out non-military humanitarian aid in South East Asia. And amidst constant accusations of land grabbing and imperialism, when Quinntonia took part in the dismantling of FRB, they were the first to leave and let the people in that region govern themselves.

As for the base that was built by Versailles, no one seemed to even notice that is was being built, and then it was the base that was attacked, not the other way around. It was not a racist decision not to get involved, but a wise one, as France and BG spent resources battling each other while Quinntonia just readied itself for battle should the situation spill out and begin to harm neighboring nations.

As for our continued friendship with Roycelandia, it was born of defensive necessity, and we have an agreement to stay out each others’ affairs. If Royce decides to do something, he does not clear it through me or vice-versa.

And out quick response here, is linked inexorably to the happenings of the African theatre, simply because the use of nuclear weapons has proven to us that we need to take a more involved stance in world affairs than previously thought.

However, Quinntonia does not have an imperialist thought in its collective political head. Every move that they have made must be understood by their motive, which is to help people when they can, and further the proclamation of the Gospel.

If Sithin is under attack by forces outside of itself, ones that are utterly hostile to a theistic world-view, Quinntonia is likely to help. If they are under attack by Christian or Christian friendly groups, Quinntonia is likely to stay out of it unless they are honoring a previous alliance agreement.

Now the question that the embassy would be asking the Sithin government now is, how can Quinntonian help to resolve the situation without more bloodshed? They have readied themselves for battle, and arrayed their vast power in the region, but they do not want to get involved, unless Australasia comes under direct attack. If that is to happen, Quinntonia would definitely back its ally, with all of the fury and power that it can bring to bear on the situation. But Quinntonia had an agreement wit the previous Chinese government, if they stay out of this conflict as it stands so will USQ. I don’t know where that agreement stands today, with a new government in power in China though.

But Quinntonia can be negotiated with, and you have a huge bargaining chip. You support Dra-pol. If that were to cease, you would find Quinntonia most helpful in almost every situation.

WWJD
Amen.

Raleigh, Australasia

The ever-prickly capital of the Free Colony is quick to respond to Sithin's charges, pointing out that while Spyr stood supinely by during the recent Holy League invasion of Africa, Australasia was quick to react. To this date, over three-hundred Australasian servicemen have perished fighting the French, to say nothing of the nearly eight-thousand dead in a single moment after an ICBM attack-- the first of its kind in world history*. Excluding the ECOWAS nations currently facing invasion, more Australasians have died in the current conflict than any other nationality. The ISC's forces have thus far done little to counter French attacks directly, whereas an Australasian tank unit fights alongside the Ghanans. Spyr's army, cheerfully exploiting world events in Southeast Asia, has thus far done little to fight the League imperialists. How can the educated person say that Australasia has ignored the plight of Gibraltarians in the Iberian Peninsula following the battle of Cape Roca**?

Before Sithin issues any more blatant propaganda, the Press Ministry argues, it ought to check its facts. Australasian soldiers now occupy a peacekeeping role in the Phillipines. An Australasian fleet remains at sea to oppose further French attacks. Australasian ground forces are prepared to invade mainland France, thereby taking the fight directly to them. Where, meanwhile, have the Revolutionary Armies of the Strainists been? How have they aided the people of West Africa, who are about to fall under the heel of Imperialists a second time?

If any nation has given selflessly in recent months, it has not been Hindustan, nor the ISC. It has certainly not been Spyr. Listeners are implored to look to fact, rather than propaganda. Australasian money flows to the ECOWAS. Australasian soldiers fight there, although they are few. Australasian fleets fight at sea and Australasian women and children die at home. In Spyr, they accuse the Free Colony of imperialism while annexing territory. If there are imperialists in the world, they live in Spyr and the ISC, not Australasia.

This message, condensed into a short radio message, is broadcast across the entire Free Colony, while a similar memo is sent to Sithin. It is broadcast, in multiple languages, as propaganda across Asia. The government of the Free Colony is rather sick of Sithin's hold on the ears of people in Asia, and a concerted effort is begun which will do something about it.

OOC:
* I hope it is.
** I always thought that 12th of June was a silly name, easily confused with the RL First of June. How about Cape Roca instead?

(OCC: It seems quite likely that they are there, if they aren't immediately apparent. A substantial oil field covers the area, that much is certain, and much of the deposit is underwater. We can reasonably expect there to be at least a few oil platforms, I think. Perhaps they are closer to Samarinda?)

Western Kalimantan

Spyrians landing at the resort town of Singkawang face relatively little opposition. A few machine gun positions open-up on the incoming hovercrafts, but, correctly interpreting the situation as hopeless, the position's 50-some defenders are quick to retreat before too many of their number are killed or captured, along with valuable machine guns and rocket launchers. Troops disembarking from their landing craft will find the beach to be mined, although not heavily, along with much of the surrounding area, and perhaps these defenses will cause enough of a delay to permit the unhindered escape of the Indonesian battalion in the immediate area. Nobody is eager to waste the Islamic Guard's already-depleted strength on the defense of untenable coastal towns like Singkawang, after all, and regular troops will be of the utmost value in the guerilla struggle that is likely to take place as the Strainists advance into central Kalimantan. The local populace will not likely present any major problems. Ethnic Chinese, the majority group, are openly supportive of the invasion and see it as an opportunity to regain prestige lost during Kalla's quite divisive rule.

Pontianak takes heavy damage from the Spyrian air raid, with many of the strongest, and thus most visible, coastal fortifications devastated by enemy bombs. Several shore gun emplacements are knocked-out as well, and this deprives the town of its artillery, although the ability of those guns, many of them salvaged from partially-sunken Bonstockian escorts, to hit anything, was in doubt from the beginning.

Aceh

Morale along the M-T-L line is quite low to begin with, and Spyrian propaganda efforts do little to help things. It does not take much to sow doubt in the mind of an untrained, poorly-equipped conscript, fighting for a leader who could not accurately be described as terribly popular. Once the shells begin to fall, on the real positions rather than the decoys, a fair few Achenese might opt out of martyrdom and leave the job of defending Mansur to those who volunteered for the task. The Achenese civilian population has, by now, largely evacuated areas close to the M-T-L line and Banda Aceh Stop Line, they being obvious targets for heavy enemy bombardment. Tapaktuan's devastation at the hands of Strainist rocketeers has convinced most Achenese that their best hopes for survival lie as far away from army units as it is possible to get. There aren't, therefore, many Achenese around to absorb Strainist leaflets, but their stated goals, at least, seem to have been fulfilled. Of course, large numbers of Achenese aren't about to survive away from the major population centers for very long, so it is very much hoped that the battle is on the brief side.

Bombardment continues to take its toll on the Achenese troops dug-in along the M-T-L line, although prepared, heavily-camoflauged positions prove able to withstand much of what is thrown at them. What little heavy artillery the Achenese had to begin with is completely destroyed, hardened gun shelters being some of the more visible targets for Strainist bombardment, but Mansur never meant to rely on the guns and their poorly-trained crews anyway. And Achenese civilians aren't the only ones looking at Strainist leaflets. While they might demoralize many, Islamic Guard commanders are happy to have what they consider a reliable list of enemy targets, and begin to position forces near, but not in, the listed cities. Mansur would very much like each town along the Strainist attack route to become a miniature Monte Cassino.

There isn't much the Achenese can do about the Strainist blockade, the only warships in Banda Aceh being derelict Bonstockian frigates and patrol boats that were past their prime at the start of the Malacca War. Shore batteries hold their fire, careful not to expose their positions to the full force of enemy bombardment so early. Poor ranging equipment and crew training means that, even if an enemy ship were to come into range, it would not likely be hit.

So when the Australasian vessels approach the capital, even though their impending arrival had not been relayed to the gunners on the coast, they are not fired upon. In the name of secrecy, nobody had bothered to tell the guardsmen on the watefront either, so when the IMB men tie up, they are ambushed by two companies of the Sultan's personal forces. The situation is tense until one of Mansur's secretaries arrives to resolve it, and the Guardsmen are, reluctantly, convinced to back down while the Australasians are treated to a lengthy apology. As soon as their ships are tied-up and camoflauged, crews get to work unloading the cargoes, under the careful supervision of no few heavily-armed troopers. The Australasians themselves are brought to Mansur's palace, or rather the deep bunker on its grounds that now serves as the Sultan's headquarters. After being furnished with medals and a small cash prize, the Australasians are offered commissions in the Sultan's Guard, Aceh being badly in need of experienced military officers. If they accept, they will likely find themselves in charge of coordinating Mansur's escape from Indonesia, hopefully aboard one of the Australasians' fast trawlers.

Sulawesi

As the Hunayn Regiment retreats up the road to Palopo, attempting to delay the Strainists' arrival in that otherwise undefended town, the Mecca Regiment's 7,500 men prepare to meet the western Strainist column. Unlike troops in Aceh, they do not benefit from fixed defenses, the Regiment's commander having opted to deploy well north of the shoddy, pourous line of bunkers. Indonesian soldiers busy themselves with digging foxholes and trenches, while the regiment's few companies of engineers lay minefields and sight FH-88 positions. It is hoped that these large howitzers, at least as powerful as anything possessed by the enemy and present in quantity, will offset the Strainist advantage in tanks, and every effort is therefore made to camoflauge them and fortify them from counterbattery fire, two enterprizes that do not always go hand in hand. As useful as the Scorpion 90 is, the Hunayn Regiment wouldn't have enough of them to do much damage if pitting that type against the T-55 was a good idea in the first place.

It is seen as very fortunate that the enemy chooses not to engage Indonesian forces in the center. When the western column advances up towards Polewali, the Khandaq Regiment, apparently unengaged, will in all likelihood be ordered to move west and attack the Strainist rear. Although they are doubtless superior in equipment, training, and experience, the enemy forces are thought to be fewer in number, perhaps exceeded by a single Indonesian regiment. Two should, therefore, be able to overwhelm the invaders' column. And with one half of the enemy force destroyed, the Indonesian regiments, now unified and bolstered by captured equipment, might hope to face and defeat the other column, or alternatively advance far to the south and destroy the beachhead at Makassar. Such a victory could very well put paid to the idea of a Strainist-occupied Indonesia, but the fact remains that the Indonesians lack effective intelligence on enemy numbers and capabilities, and are totally naked to air attack after the withdrawl of the bloodied Tomcat squadron to Manado. And unless the Khandaq Regiment moves quickly, it runs the risk of being overtaken by the Strainist eastern column and engaged in a battle of its own, with the enemy between it and the safety of Sulawesi's mountanious interior. Hopefully tactical errors will be kept to a minimum, something that the Islamic Guard cannot exactly count on. But if any Indonesian unit is going to defeat a Strainist main advance in open battle, it is the full-strength regiments on Sulawesi.

Mohammed Kalla, meanwhile, begins to have second thoughts about his presence on Sulawesi, as fighting comes ever closer to his mountain fortress. Perhaps, he thinks, it would have been better to stick it out in Kalimantan's much deeper, much more inaccessible forests, further from usable airfields and closer to poorly-watched borders. But with the enemy firmly in control of the Makassar Strait, such plans are necessarily abandoned. Instead, Kalla begins to look to the Philippines and the Abu Sayaf, a group that continues to recieve no small amount of funding from the IRI. If a flight across the strait to Kalimantan looks impossible, in all likelihood Kalla will move north once his position becomes untenable, before the Strainists are able to enact a blockade.

Mumbai

As has been the case lately, Mumbai is none too happy about what is coming out of Raleigh, and even less so about comments made by what looks set to be Japan's new government. Strathairn's letter does not do much to improve Parliament's perception of Australasia's foreign policy, especially now that Australasian battlegroups have started moving into waters rather unsettlingly close to Indonesia. If Strathairn wants peace, some Unioners say, he would do well to stand aside and allow the decidedly unfavorable situation in the so-called IRI to be resolved, as it should have been years ago. Unless, of course, he wants to let Mohammed Kalla's regime grow and develop into a much larger threat to regional security than it already is. True, many Unioners will admit, the Strainists' methods are not exactly ideal, but Sithin took action when no others would, and Mumbai should support that. And having jointly occupied Sulawesi with Hudecia at the conclusion of the Malacca War, Parliament is obligated to assist at least the people living there in attaining the rights guaranteed them after their escape from Singapore's dominion. While Strathairn might not be able to forsee an end to world warfare, a sentiment hardly confined to the Australasian Prime Minister, the removal of the Kalla dictatorship will at least set the stage for improvements in Indonesia. Strathairn's interpretation of Strainist and Commonwealth ideology is also a considerable distortion of the true state of affairs. Doubtless he should not worry so much about the Asian leftist powers so much as he should concern himself with the welfare of Australasia's citizens, because if he fears for his government, he doesn't need to fear anybody besides them.

Besides, it was the Australasians, some believe, who derailed efforts to catch and destroy the Franco-Roycelandians in the Philippines with their foot-dragging and ultimately quite vain appeals for peace. Perhaps if it wasn't for Strathairn's insistence on settlement, Australasian soldiers and sailors wouldn't have fought and died in West Africa, because the French Royal Navy would be at the bottom of the Pacific. And Raleigh could hardly be said to be shouldering the burden of combat operations in West Africa alone, with the arrival of an Indian battlegroup off Dakar and the accumulation of close to 50,000 CMEC and INA regulars in Libya. If Spyr was equally blessed with sealift capability, or if Sithin was not preoccupied with keeping Russia out of the war, the Strainists would likely also make a showing in West Africa.

Of course, as far as Mumbai is concerned, Strathairn is more than welcome to aid in toppling Mohammed Kalla's oppressive regime if he ever tires of obstructing the enterprise. The same goes for the Philippines, and the multinational force occupied with enforcing President Azar's compliance with the various treaty provisions forced upon him by the departure of his benefactors from Port Royal and Versailles.

Aceh

Augustus Davidson, rather bemused by the medals now hanging from his blue, button-down shirt, is forced to admit that his skills are as a surgeon and intelligence operative, not a military commander. He does offer to assist in his legitimate mission-- treating wounded Acehnese soldiers-- and to oversee the distribution of arms that he had brought.

Davidson is secretly rather disgusted by Mansur's urge to flee the island, sensible though it might be. He urges the sultan to remain behind, pointing out that the presence of a leader goes a long way to morale and confidence amongst the troops. It is that, more than anything, that will hold the line. He also notes that his second, an ex-Marine Medic named Samantha Galbraith, had served as a captain in the Colonial Marines, and was trained as a battlefield commander as well as a field surgeon. While she was much more capable in her capacity as the latter, Marine doctrine required all officers to have experience commanding a regular combat unit-- if only for a few weeks.

Galbraith, meanwhile, was attending to the offloading of weapons, and overseeing the two crates of money that would hopefully finance a resistance to the Strainists. She presented an odd sight, a severe looking, middle-aged woman in jeans, street shoes and a t-shirt carrying an M-16 as though it was a familiar enough object to her. She spoke very good Acehnese and was fluent in Indonesian, no doubt helpful to her as she tried to convince the guardsmen that these crates were for the sultan's eyes only.

President Hu Jin Tao attempts to open some form of negotiations with the Australasians again, this time with a hint of impatience and annoyance at the belligerent power.

"The Islamic Republic of Indonesia has done little to advance living standards and democratic rights. We would like to enquire why Australasia, having trumpeted the voice of democracy, now supports evil villains like Kalla who violently oppress his subjects."

"China's support of the Sujavan liberation effort is due to a wider effort against injustice and tyranny in Asia. Using fear and the offer of protection by his jihadist squads, Kalla has forced many Indonesian Christians to join the war in afghanistan, often against their will."

"We trust that Raleigh will see the light of day and come to a proper position on the Indonesian campaign."

President Hu Jin Tao,
With respect, the sovereignty of nations is a cornerstone of international law. It remains amongst the most binding of all such laws, and is not dependent upon a set of ideals. Any attempt to devalue the sovereignty of nations-- be it in the name of 'human rights' or base conquest-- is a threat to the laws established by the people of the world for the sake of both human and governmental rights.

The Free Colony does not support imperialist schools of thought. Over the past few months, more invasions of sovereign territory have been launched by the so-called Progressive Bloc than by any other nation or group of nations in the world. While France and Roycelandia attempted to seize the Philippines, the Indian Soviet Commonwealth has summarily invaded Bihar and Namibia. Spyr has launched an invasion of Indonesia, supported by Hindustan.

Far from being an imperialist power, Australasia and Japan seem to be the last of the great Asian nations that do not seek territorial gain, nor do we support those who do. Your own nation currently supplies the imperialists with their arms of aggression. I do not doubt that China honestly seeks a bright future for all peoples, but Spyr does not. Spyr seeks territorial and ideological expansion in the guise of Revolutionary 'aid'.

To our knowledge, not one major rebellion has taken place in Indonesia thus far, while resistance to the Strainist invaders is still strong. The Indonesian people deserve their own state, not domination by an invading power. The Free Colony supports this sentiment.

Mohammed Kalla's government is not a model state. However, incompetence and abuse at home is better than incompetence and abuse from afar. At home, there exists the possibility for change, for reform. Domination from afar brings to mind the worst abuses of the Imperial age; the Belgian Congo, British and Roycelandian Africa and many others.

This government supports freedom for all peoples, not only those who meet an artificial 'morality benchmark' imposed by Imperialist plotters.
Good day,
Sir Andrew Strathairn, KBE

OOC: As an actual imperialist, I should like to disassociate myself from Maxen von Bismarck, the whackjob. :P

OOC: I'm ignoring that.

;)

This is some great stuff- so no slacking, if you do I will reach through the computer screen and throw a shoe at you to "inspire" some typing.

Banjarmasin

The return of the Lyong-ti to within firing range of fortified Banjarmasin brings with it much destruction, more so than before, as the Spyrian gunners begin to spot and direct fire against more heavily-camouflaged targets in and around the town. Now that Banjarmasin doesn't have anything to hit back with, there isn't much that the Sultan, holed-up in a bunker some distance north of the town itself, can do, besides watch the shells fall amongst his and Kalla's entrenched forces. Bomb shelters, formerly spared heavy bombardment by virtue of heavy concealment and the existence of arguably more important targets, prove largely unable to withstand 20" salvos. In the first few minutes, hundreds of Indonesian lives are extinguished as the structures are collapsed by the heavy shells. They might not be as large as those fired by the Schwerer Gustav at Sevastopol's fortifications in 1942, and therefore the strongest forts in Banjarmasin take and survive direct hits, but most emplacements aren't nearly as strong. Indeed, for the most part, taking cover inside a hardened shelter is just as dangerous as running exposed on the surface, and many Indonesian soldiers opt to take their chances where the air is fresh.

Although Banjarmasin's best fortifications, two Bonstock-era forts on either side of the river, are fed by underground roadways and connected to one-another by a narrow-gauge railway that runs underneath the Barito river itself, the bulk of the town's fortifications are not similarly equipped. So although it is plain to the Sultan of Banjarmasin that the bulk of his men are very far from safe, he cannot very well order them to withdraw back out of the Lyong-ti's gun range. The time to do that was hours ago, or more recently, but he had missed the opportunity. Losses would, doubtless, be greater if the battleship caught thousands of infantrymen scurrying north across open ground, without any form of protection. At least the Spyrians have to use many shells to destroy their targets, which possess some degree of armored protection. Maybe the enemy battleship will run out of shells and withdraw sooner or later, but until that time, all Banjarmasin's garrison can do is dig deeper and hope for the best.

[OOC: Will try to reply ASAP to tactical issues... RL is being more of a distraction than usual].

But Quinntonia can be negotiated with, and you have a huge bargaining chip. You support Dra-pol. If that were to cease, you would find Quinntonia most helpful in almost every situation.

The Quinntonians will find the suggestion that Spyr drop its support for the CPRD taken with rather hostile amusement.

Should we follow your shining example, it is asked? And accomplish all that you have in relations with Dra-pol? .... but first we must ask, what exactly you have achieved?

Have you caused a program of disarmament and demobilization which has reduced CPRD military expenditures and devoted those resources to betterment of life in Dra-pol? Why, no, but we have!

Have you caused preparations to reduce stockpiles of WMD, particularly nuclear weapons, held by the CPRD? No, but we have.

Have you caused the opening of key areas of the CPRD to a market economy with opportunities for individual prosperity? No, you have not, but we certainly have.

Have you caused the CPRD to disavow military means as a method of achieving Korean re-unification? No, but we have.

Finally, have you caused vast reforms in the CPRD, eliminating those immoral elements which supported genocide as a means to political ends? Again, the answer is no, and our response is again 'but we have'.

We have accomplished more reform, more change for the better, in a few years of offering a friendly hand than Quinntonia did in decades of threats and bullets. We will not abandon the significant progress being made in Dra-pol to satisfy Washington's ego... if the USQ is so blind as to see Sithin and Jakarta as enemies, then that is unfortunate but cannot be helped, and Spyr will respond in kind to any hostilities they dare initiate.

President Hu slams Quintonnia, NATO

In an interview on national television, President Hu Jin Tao discussed his views on foreign policy, attacked Washington's seemingly baseless hostility towards the Shining Sphere of prosperity, and also expanding on his recent comments about a policy re-alignment with regards to Dra-pol.

During the election run-up, your supporters burned Quintonnian flags and you vigorously condemned their foreign policy. Was this politics to differentiate yourself from Zhang?

"Of course not. Zhang had supported Washington regardless of how silly their ideologically-driven foreign policies had become. Threat of war against Libya for defending themselves, threatening to invoke NATO to defend the Phillipines as Roycelandian soil. I could go on and on. They have continued with this absurd foreign policy - even now Washington sticks with their double standards."

You are referring to Indonesia? Do you have any more to say on Indonesia?

"Washington is conducting an exercise in hypocrisy when they condemn Spyr for toppling a tyrant, while they turned a blind eye when the Franco-Roycelandian alliance built the world's second largest military installation on the Phillipines and sent a great armada in order to subjugate several South East Asian states. It is unfortunate that China, at great cost, had to militarise reluctantly once again and force a backdown.

It is an outrage that the United States has allowed Royce I's policy of imperialism and exploitation to take place all over the world while defending him from any consequences of his actions through the corrupt treaty of NATO."

You made some comments earlier this month suggesting that China would re-assess her stance on Dra-pol. Can you comment further?

"No I can't unfortunately. China's ambassador to Dra-pol will hold a press meeting later this month."

[OOC: Nothing personal, just trying to develop Hu Jin Tao as a character]

Ouch. Not nice. Man, I built Quinntonia's relationship for years just to have governments change and start to get back to the business of hating Quinntonia.

BTW, we were never involved in the Phillipines. It was BG threatening to invade, what was it, Goa? A holding that Royce had had from the beginning.

Well, back to studying.

WWJD
Amen.

Just a quick post to let people know what I'm doing globally, and how it affects this thread.

France is back, so I'm once again at war with an enemy very much my equal. That means that I'm going to have to fudge some things... things that I wouldn't have done if I had expected to see NG's France again. For example, the millions of pounds spent in Indonesia have to be scaled back, specifically I can't give the Acehnese as much money as I did, and any further aid will have to come via Royce or someone (or can be bought off of a character that I'll be unveiling soon, an expat Australasian arms dealer of sorts. I can say definitively that I won't be taking military action here unless provoked by something like an attack on Australasian shipping-- too damn much going on.

Of course, this only matters if the entire thread doesn't die, which is possible seeing as how busy everyone is.

Western Kalimantan

Over the first few days after their landings, Strainist troops concentrate on securing Singkawang and driving out enemy forces. The town, nestled as it is between the sea and several mountains, ought be easier to defend as a beachhead than some of the failing efforts to the East. Political officers are also present, with more arriving along with aid workers as troops manage to secure docks and helicopter landing areas. Their goal is to bring the Strainist Party apparatus into the city as quickly as possible, and to create visible manifestations of support for their efforts.

Aceh

Bombardment proceeds throughout the day, as supplies and fresh troops are moved up to Strainist front positions. The Acehnese line, it has been decided, will be attacked at night.

Artillery bombardment thus continues, supported with air strikes, though the latter are somewhat limited, having sacrificed ordnance for camera pods and other intelligence-gathering systems as they attempt to locate enemy positions behind the initial line so they might be struck either by the advance on the ground or by the SRA’s ‘strategic rockets’ and their FAE warheads. Aceh also has the dubious privilege of being always beneath the eye of a Spyran satellite far above, photographs pouring directly to officers on the ground as they plan movements and bombardments.

Eventually, after the sun has set, the advance will begin. Three armoured thrusts set off along each of the main roads, with APC- and motorcycle-mounted infantry spread amongst them for support. As these move, infantry platoons advance elsewhere along the line, attempting to approach as close as possible without being detected before they open fire. Where they are able to breach the line, they radio for additional waiting platoons to move forward.

On the main roads, the lead armoured and motorcycle elements are equipped for mine clearing and removal of obstacles, The engineers are covered in these activities, should a stop be necessary, by accompanying infantry and the guns of the tanks. Behind these elements and the armoured thrust come trucks of infantry, whose goal is to deploy once resistance has been cracked ahead of them, spreading out along the road to secure the area and engage remaining enemy troops.

Overhead, a few dozen fighter aircraft loiter, awaiting requests from officers on the ground when resistance is stiffer than expected. The helicopter squadrons which accompany the three armoured forces play a similar role, though these expend only their rocket pods and a few cannon rounds before returning to refuel… their real hope being to claim more Leopard kills once the Islamic Guard’s armoured remnants sally forth.

Propaganda accompanies Strainist efforts in a number of forms, perhaps the most common being the loudspeakers mounted upon many of the trucks involved in the advance, repeating the same simple message.

“Do not die for a pampered Sultan and for Kalla of Sulawesi.
Surrender and live for a democratic Aceh free of feudal exploitation.
Revolutionary victory is at hand.
Join your brothers in the community of Islam and socialism.”

Sulawesi
The two Strainist columns continue to push up their respective coasts, the western commander becoming increasingly nervous as reports arrive that the central Indonesian unit may not swing east as was expected. Air strikes are called for with increasing frequency, and are largely answered, with Su-35s delivering guided and unguided munitions against lead Khandaq vehicles in hope of blocking up movement while more forces are landed at Makassar and moved northward.

Banjarmasin

The Lyong-ti’s fire first takes advantage of the lighter fortifications located within its gun range, but eventually shells begin to rain down on the nearest of the city’s twin forts. After only a few shells, however, firing ceases and a cutter is sent out beneath a large white flag, carrying a Sujavan ulama and a Strainist political officer. Should they reach the city, they will announce their purpose: Indonesia is no more, defeat is inevitable, but there is hope that Banjarmasin might be spared the costs associated with protracted battle, and thus they would like to enquire as to terms required by the Sultan in exchange for surrender of the city.

[OOC: Or did they try that before? I'm muddling myself up lately...]

Western Kalimantan

Strainist forces in Singkawang face relatively little opposition from elements of the Yarmuk regiment in the area, as they withdraw towards the Indonesian position at Pontianak or north into mountainous, heavily-forested terrain. Like usual, they leave behind land mines and various other booby-traps, meant to slow the inevitable enemy advance out of the city. Indonesian soldiers, however, do not stick around, being not altogether inclined to face enemy regulars in terrain that doesn't entirely suit the Indonesians. Singkawang's population is generally supportive of the occupiers, given that they have, in the space of hours, shown more goodwill to the town than the Yarmuk Regiment has in the space of several years.

The only offensive Indonesian presence over Singkawang comes in the form of No.106 Squadron's last Hawk, armed with a pair of BL.755 cluster bombs and centerline ADEN pod. Flying at low altitude, this aircraft attempts to attack Strainist troop concentrations quickly, in the hopes of escaping before really being noticed.

Aceh

Strainist infantry is, for the most part, able to creep-up on the M-T-L line's fortifications without being noticed. Most of the men dug-in along its length do not, after all, have any training to begin with, much less training in night combat, a specialty of the Spyrians in particular. It is usually the Strainists who get to fire the first shots, and often the Achenese conscripts are thrown into panicked retreat. Equally as often there is fierce fighting over the assailed positions, but superior Strainist training and night vision equipment generally leads to defeat for the defenders. Of course, infantrymen will still have to pick their way through veritable forests of concertina wire and minefields in order to really exploit their gains, and it is hoped that this maze of obstacles will make-up for the conscripts' limited effectiveness in combat. Near the main roads, where the Sultan's commanders expected the main assaults to take place, regular army and Sultan's Guard forces are entrenched. These forces conduct themselves in a manner entirely different from that of the conscripts, as should be expected of men who both volunteered for the job and received training enough to do it with a modicum of skill. Infantry assaults under the cover of darkness take regular troops by surprise as well, but these men are quicker to recover and uniformly put up a fierce fight before relinquishing any position.

Armored units pushing through the various hedgehog barriers and minefields on the main roads are opposed by Matador and Armbrust teams, often hidden in bunkers or foxholes as protection from suppressive fire. In some places, these troops are supported by 81mm or 120mm mortar teams, and if a column is halted by rocket fire, Achenese gunners will try to hit its stationary vehicles and supporting infantry with mortar bombs as well in an effort to maximize enemy losses and further obstruct the good roads headed through the M-T-L line. Given the relatively short supply of both antitank rockets and mortars, such attacks are somewhat rare, with the Sultan's Guard units outside Banda Aceh in possession of the lion's share of such equipment. Sometimes regular forces will try to let the Strainists pass them by, waiting until most of the armor has gone ahead before mounting an attack on trucks or other soft targets. Hopefully, the tactics employed by regular forces will, along with the profusion of anti-infantry and anti-tank obstacles, will help to further delay the Strainist advance and wear-down Sithin's will to continue the war. Achenese soldiers make no particular effort to engage enemy aircraft. They are, for the most part, invisible to the Achenese defenders, they being without many night-vision devices or radars. If Strainist Su-35s or attack helicopters do strike at targets, they are often engaged by RBS-70s or Stingers, although, like antitank rockets and mortars, the bulk of these weapons is concentrated further to the northwest. Defending troops attempt to present few targets for Strainist aircraft, through the use of camouflage and rather wide force dispersal, but the largest, best-built trench works and blockhouses will no doubt be quite visible from the air.

The Uhud Regiment's surviving Leopard 2s are brought to bear against the Strainist advance in the north, near Lhokseumawe, although the terrain makes it more or less impossible for the tanks to conduct any spectacular maneuvers. Tanks fire from camouflaged positions on Strainist lead elements and then attempt to retire to the rear, all the while watching for enemy attack helicopters and flanking infantry.

Sulawesi

Strainist air raids do much to disrupt the Khandaq Regiment's move south, but the Regiment has never enjoyed a great deal of mechanization. The loss of trucks and APCs to Spyrian bombs, while highly destructive, does not stop the push. Indonesian troops do, however, move much more slowly, at a marching rather than a driving pace, with NDL-40 rocket launchers often being towed by teams of troops or burros instead of trucks. The regiment's lead elements, mechanized in Singapore-built V-100 armored cars, move a great deal faster, and move to secure Sidewreng ahead of the much slower foot infantry. The Mecca Regiment, meanwhile, continues to dig-in around Polewali with its howitzers and RBS-70 posts, and awaits the approach of the Strainist forces.

Still reeling from the losses sustained in the first day of fighting, the Hunayn Regiment conducts a fighting retreat up the eastern coast road, occasionally stopping to deliver rocket fire or mount an ambush before continuing northward.

Banjarmasin

Indonesian gunners don't quite know what to make of the Strainist cutter, sitting tantalizingly close to manned coastal fortifications. A fair few machine gun rounds are shot at it, before the order comes down from the Sultan's headquarters to cease. One of the sultan's retainers arrives with a megaphone, and proceeds to tell the Strainists, after listing his commander's many titles and honors, the terms under which surrender would be possible. South Kalimantan will have to be guaranteed independence and total control over domestic affairs and the sultan's continued rule will have to be guaranteed. The Sultan will also have to be allowed to maintain his military at its current size and engage in modernization programs whenever he feels the need. If the Strainists are willing to agree to those terms, says the retainer, the Sultan will surrender his fortress and allow the Strainists use of the port. If not, the Lyong-ti can shell the great mounds of earth under which sit Banjarmasin's forts until the cows come home, for all the Sultan says he cares. Certainly there does not appear to be any invasion fleet out with the battleship, so seizure of Banjarmasin could not take place immediately.

Balikpapan

Sensing victory, and with Indonesian numerical superiority ever more apparent, Kalla's forces in Balikpapan press the attack more strongly. A second wave of reinforcements arrives at Sepinggan International Airport aboard UH-1s, and these, added to the first 200 infantrymen delivered in that manner, largely replace the losses suffered by Balikpapan's garrison in the opening stages of the battle. Lead mechanized elements of Samarinda's relief column, bombed but still partly intact, also reach the outskirts of the town, ever wary of ambushes. Saladin armored cars and Saracen APCs, covered in camouflage netting and foliage, make quick progress on Balikpapan's paved road surfaces and maintain radio contact with Indonesian infantrymen nearer the waterfront as they attempt to attack the rear of the enemy force and cut-off its lines of retreat. Of course, there is little intelligence on the numbers and whereabouts of Strainist amphibious tanks, so the armored cars doubtless will not have it all their way, especially as they are without modern sighting systems and guns.

(OCC: Do you think we should put this on hold, given the recommencement of Iron West?)

[OOC: Im trying to assemble a timeline for the two or so days of tactical things that have progresed, and the political matters as well, to compare to Iron West/Dark Continent/Morocco-SADR conflict and Austria vs. whoever theyve decided to attack this time. I think Iron West itself is timed to be simultaneous to things here, and is still close, but it would be good to make sure everything else is also at or past this point, as part of the Strainist strategy was to act while the manpower of international opposition was aimed elsewhere, under the assumption that in the time it would take to re-deploy forces to SE Asia, the war would already be over.]

Sounds good to me, Spyr. I've been operating under the assumption that all this was happening 'now', that is to say a few weeks after the battle of Cape Roca and during the Austrian crisis. I figure that it'd take the PRS about that much time (from the opening of hostilities about a month before Cape Roca) to plan, mobilize and otherwise finagle logistically so that they can support an amphibious operation in conjunction with another nation (Hindustan). I think that my indigenous forces (permanent aircraft defences/naval defences) are the only solidly non-progressive entities in the area.

Oh, and Royce has a fleet of what I imagine to be ~16 ships in the area, mostly dreadnoughts supported by two Roycelandian carriers and Aussie aircover. The Wendselybury Islands are host to a few Walmie destroyers and an amphibious assault ship, but they're not gonna do anything about what's going on in Indonesia unless Australasians get directly attacked.

Akabania is gone, and I'm left with a rather large fleet in Singapore. Can I, uh, have it? *shifty eyes*

OCC: Indian forces, have, though, been in the area for quite some time, much of it spent practicing for an invasion of the Philippines and the battle that would soon follow. So I wouldn't imagine that the planning and organization for an invasion of Indonesia would take too long.

And where does Roycelandia get all these god damn dreadnoughts?

Anyway...you can try, G-man, but I don't think you'll get far at all. Not, at least, without a landing party of several hundred thousand men plus tanks and a fairly imposing naval air contingent. You'll have to deal not only with six stealth frigates, but also with a fair few stealthy AIP submarines and a veritable swarm of missile boats.

Yeah, well. So much for that. I could probably manage it, I think, but not while fighting France somewhere else.

In all seriousness, though, if we do decide that Akabania corp. for some reason checked out randomly, I'm the only one in a logical position to take over temporarily (having, oh, fifteen ships and an army of diplomats sitting in the harbour) while things get sorted out. Since those ships probably won't be doing much, I suppose that we could 'help form a unity government for the island of Singapore'. And really, I'd just be there to keep order.

You know, when I read that I sound a lot less earnest than I meant to be. Eh.

Edit: As for Roycelandia, I think it has something to do with staying out of wars recently and just... building stuff. Remember, they're also pretty low-quality ships using old hull-forms and rolled homogeneous steel as armour iirc, so the zillions of them come at something of a price. Remember how BG sunk one at the cost of a destroyer, and Royce passes it off as an even trade?

(OOC: A four thousand tonne frigate for a forty thousand tonne capital ship that would never have had a chance to do what it did were we actually at war at the time! The Soviets are probably most afraid of one thing... that Roycelandia might stop using gun-and-armour ships and blimps and multi-turret tanks and actually put its significant imperial resources into something dangerous to anyone France hasn't already carpet-bombed ;) )

[OOC: Hindustan is right on preparations... Operation Garuda is essentially a Strainist effort to fold HDF operations planned against the Philippines into a Sujava-Indonesian war that both sides have been preparing for since the fall of Bonstock. In the case of the former, training went on at intense levels for almost a year, and kept up after the Philippine crisis ended at a less strenuous pace for the last six months. In the case of the latter, the Strainist Revolutionary Army and the Indonesian Islamic Guard have had ten years firing bullets at each other and burning fuel on training excercises to get ready for this. So preparation for the current conflict, beyond the norm for things in the archipelago, was rather minimal.]

[OOC: Opened an out-of-character thread (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=509283) for Red East, and started with notes and queries on matters relating to the timeline].

The latest rumours coming from Beijing's parliament indicate that much of the leadership is jittery about Roycelandian and Australasian military vessels approaching Singapore. A report has been commissioned into the effects of disruption to oil trade from the middle east due to the presence of military vessels in Singapore and the potential for a Roycelandian blockade of the straits of Malacca.

While no official comment has been made yet, analysts only need to look back to the Phillipines to note China's displeasure when Franco-Roycelandian military vessels straddle her shipping and trade routes.

OOC: Posting up something, though a bit disjointed and far-reaching... compiled from notes on intent for the first week or two of the campaign, and so may be too weak on specifics in some areas. Propaganda/aid proceeding as stated already. Difficulty with dates... things may depend on how far things have gone in Africa and just when the Suez issue occurs compared to other events, since the Malacca issue places huge pressure on the Party leadership to react to events there].

Kalimantan

The disparity between Strainist and Indonesian capabilities becomes increasingly obvious as the war proceeds through its first week, with SRA beacheads at Kendawangan and Singkawang continuing to recieve fresh troops by the thousands. These troops dedicate themselves to a slow process of expansion, clearing Indonesian sabotage and engaging enemy troops with attack helicopters and light artillery, while employing heavy machine guns against any enemy aircraft (along with occasional man-portable SAMs, though these have been mostly left near the landing zones themselves due to overconfidence in SRA air superiority). From Singkawang, the primary objective is obviously towards the south, with Pontianak subject to frequent bombardment from aircraft and passing ships massing from Belitung to guard the South China Sea against Western encroachment. From Kendawangan, forces push both northward to secure Ketapang and northeast into the foothills, before moving eastward, engaging the enemy but certainly not aimed at a particular hardpoint... the lead elements of this second movement are Lyongese bicycle troops, used to moving quickly through rough terrain, and their goal is to bypass the swampy coastal jungles which lie between Kendawangan and Pangkalanbun, assaulting that city from behind as quickly as possible in order to secure an airfield and set the resisters in Banjarmasin cowering.

That city's terms for peace are considered by Strainist commanders only briefly. A feudal element cannot be left to subsist in their midst, given that a key reason for Kalla's removal was concern he might open his arms to foreign reactionary interests. The Lyong-ti voices its decision to decline by opening up once again with its guns. This gun bombardment continues first into the forts of Banjarmasin, then moving on to barracks, supply depots, power facilities, and other military infrastructure, cycling two turrets firing and one undergoing maintenance at any given time, while fresh shells arrive aboard supply ships out of Java. The sultan is to be an example to his remaining peers in Indonesia, to stand beside the former sultan of Yogyakarta. Abdicate and survive in relative comfort, or fight and perish amidst the rubble.

In Banjarmasin, matters are ever more desperate, and finally surviving marines begin to push northeast, towards the coast and the airport located there, hoping that defenders there might be dislodged long enough for reinforcement or evacuation. The marines are, however, aware that the latter would be a difficult task indeed, and many of the Lyongese members of the force begin scribbling their death poems as they ready themselves for death as cherry blossoms of the Revolution. The handful of Strainist light tanks in the city take up the rear, though many start out of formation... having hidden themselves at the back to avoid enemy aircraft, they have found themselves the first units facing Indonesian armoured cars as they rush to reinforce the shore defenders.

Increasing numbers of aircraft out of Sumatra and Java pass above the city, still intent on delaying and damaging Indonesian reinforcements.

North of the city, an elderly troopship groans as it is driven up into shallow water, before disgorging its infantry contents onto the beach. This force sets out southward along the shore, hoping to smash through the airport's defenders and join with the surviving marines, but they are not a mechanized column, and it might be many hours before they even begin to trade shots with the enemy.
The troopship's escorts, already pleased at their aircraft kills, continue northward up the Makassar Strait, heading to positions from which they can both support battle at Tarakan and guard against incursions into the Strait or Sulu sea.

In Tarakan, troops hold out as long as possible, with the aim of inflicting physical and psychological damage in hope of forcing the enemy to fall back. It is hoped that, if victories can be gained elsewhere, troops in the north will reconsider their dedication to the Indonesian state, and a few light mortar shells carried by the Strainists contain leaflets which suggest just such a course of action. Circumstances mean, though, that these are fired only when other ammunition has run low.

Sulawesi

Bombardment of the Khandaq regiment by air proceeds at a steady pace, with ordnance aimed more towards causing death and injury amongst infantry as the enemy's lack of vehicles becomes more apparent. Still, the SRA lacks dedicated bombers, and its fighter aircraft make a poor substitute for them in this sort of work.
While the eastern column pushes up in hot pursuit of the Hunayn regiment, its western counterpart slows and begins to consolidate its position in preparation for arrival of Khandaq forces. If they are to be engaged by two enemy regiments, it is thought that at least they ought force the Mecca regiment out of its fortifications in order to do so. And, with vehicles and fresh troops continuing to arrive via Makassar, it will doubtless help if the battle takes place close enough for them to be reinforced. Of course, the actual hope of the commanders in the column is that Khandaq will engage them while Mecca remains fortified, allowing destruction of both regiments seperately.
Whatever happens in the west, the eastern column knows that it must break the Hunayn regiment sufficiently that it cannot reform to resume the defence at a later date. Rocket artillery is regularly unleashed, in rather indiscriminate fashion, into any enemy concentrations which can be found, while thermobaric warheads are reserved for more fixed defences that may occur in the vicinity of Palopo. There it is hoped that the Hunayn can be drawn into a decisive battle and be destroyed.
If Hunayn can be broken at Palopo, then the eastern column will dispatch elements westward to join the assault on Polewali that will follow elimination of the Khandaq regiment, assuming all goes according to plan.
In the north Strainist agents continue to prepare the Christian populace for revolt against Kalla's men, whose concentration in the south has granted some breathing room. That the current war has stranded most of the military-age men of the region in distant Afghanistan renders matters difficult, but it is hoped that at the very least women and the elderly can be prepared to defend their villages against the Indonesians. Efforts are also launched to find a port in northern Sulawesi which could be used to offload Strainist reinforcements, and volunteers to help secure such a port. Tens of thousands of Drapoel soldiers, demobilized by Director Hotan and hired for a comparative pittance by Sithin, await deployment to Sulawesi's mountain interior once a route is opened for their arrival.

Malukus

Hindustani paratroopers and marines are deployed and re-deployed constantly in the opening week of the conflict, invariably finding themselves at the forefront of combat only to be flying towards new battles as Sujavan regulars arrive to secure the area.

As Ambon and Makassar are secured, the priority becomes Halmahera, where troops are fighting desperately to hold the captured port. A wave of 600 paratroopers reinforces the defence directly as soon as the aircraft can be prepared, and a second wave of 600 is launched two hours later, coming down further south around the airfield at Kao, which they would attempt to secure with speed so that additional forces on conscripted civil aircraft might be deployed there to push northward.
Hindustani marines from Ambon and Makassar are granted six hours rest at their respective bases before they are ordered underway once again. The former are dispatched to make a landing near the port at Weda, which could be key in pouring further reinforcements onto Halmahera should no airfield be secured. The latter have a far more ambitious task: their target, supported by Strainist frigates (Hindustani vessels having been moved southward to secure the seas around Tanimbar from encroachments by the Roycelandians or Australasians), is Ternate.

Sultans on the Malukus are offered a deal through Strainist propaganda broadcasts: if they surrender their territories and troops they will be permitted to keep a villa and recieve a cash payment after abdicating their titles... if they wish, like Yogyakarta's former sultan, they might even attempt re-integration into the new Strainist reality. If they choose to resist, they will suffer the fate of Banjarmasin and be crushed by the insurmountable tide of revolution.

Aceh

Strainist forces push their advance in Aceh at a steady pace... tanks engage hardpoints and enemy vehicles, infantry deal with foot troops and anti-armour defences. Attack helicopters await in the rear to strike at Acehnese Leopards with ATGMs, while artillery and Javanese militia units press forward in the rear to secure the area and support the lead elements. Thermobaric artillery shells are used as a matter of course by the southern column, and frequently by the other two as well, though the largest artillery pieces do not fire, having begun the move eastward... Banda Aceh has too many mosques to be indiscriminate, and it is felt that such potent weapons might be better able to adapt to changing circumstances should they sit instead with Darwin in their arcs.

At this point, SRA objectives are clear enough... all roads lead to Banda Aceh.

Aerial bombardment lessens over Aceh as the days go by, aircraft diverting to missions over Borneo and Sulawesi, though the large quantities of artillery involved in the Aceh theatre likely make this a moot point.

Kalimantan

Indonesian forces continue to do poorly in the southern part of Kalimantan as the Strainists put ashore more troops than they can effectively counter. Where Spyrian and Sujavan soldiers receive regular reinforcements and supplies, Indonesian troops are increasingly worn down after constant fighting and marching. Commanders, those not tied-down in a coastal strong point, actively avoid contact with the enemy in their headlong retreat towards Kalimantan's mountainous center. Many hope to rejoin the stronger Indonesian forces closer to Balikpapan and Samarinda, where effective resistance seems more likely to occur. In Pontianak, the men of the hard-pressed Yarmuk Regiment, as well as Sultanate levies, have no choice but to dig in deeper and await the inevitable enemy assault. In spite of the total dismemberment of Southern Kalimantan's fighter squadrons, Strainist air raids do not go unopposed. The presence of Indonesian Stingers and Bofors L/70s makes operations at low altitude quite dangerous, although fighters flying higher have little to worry about. Light artillery and outdated shore guns pose little threat to enemy vessels that do not come further than about twenty kilometers from the shoreline. Infantrymen in Ketapang, the few that there are, do not stick around to be destroyed by the numbers arrayed against them. They scatter, headed either up the road towards Pontianak or into the hills, and attempt to escape detection on the part of the enemy in their desperate flight towards friendly positions. Strainists traveling cross-country, through the area between Kendawangan and Pankalanbun, face little opposition. The terrain is as unfriendly to the Islamic Guard as it is to most other armies, and save for scattered Sultanate levy patrols, they have little to worry about from Indonesian troops. Except for in the town itself, where some 120 Indonesian infantrymen hold government offices and crossroads, and who are spoiling for a fight.

Sensing that the airfield at Palangkaraya might be an eventual Strainist objective, the Sultan of Banjarmasin orders it made inoperable. An old Vickers Viscount is dragged out onto the runway by a group of conscripted tractors, whose drivers then pop the aircraft's tires with their Carl Gustav machine guns.

In Balikpapan, the only part of Indonesia where Indonesian forces might be described as winning, the Strainist attack on Sepinggan Airport comes as a surprise, due to the fact that the position and strength of the Spyrian landing force remain largely unknown to the Indonesian defenders. Reinforced, the Sepinggan's defenders number close to 400 men, although they are armed only with assault rifles and light machine guns and have made themselves more busy with destroying the airfield than entrenching themselves. On hand to repel the Strainists are only 50 or so infantrymen, and these pour M-16 and Ultimax fire into the advancing enemy for as long as possible. Although they might not be able to hold onto the position, Indonesian soldiers are spread in greater numbers in different parts of the airport, and although the Strainists might be able to breech the perimeter, they will still face determined resistance from inside the airport. Further inland, Strainist tanks and air raids manage to hold-up relief columns considerably, forcing the abandonment of vehicles and the consolidation of advance spearheads. Inexperienced crews cause the destruction of at least half the Indonesians' force of Saladins before any headway is made against the enemy tanks.

Still however the attack, involving close to 3,500 Indonesian soldiers, continues.

At Tarakan, Indonesian soldiers continue to cautiously press the attack, although the planned Hawk raid never materializes thanks to the arrival of Strainist warships. With the bulk of the Islamic Guard's resources on Kalimantan being directed towards the south, the battalion in Tarakan is left to fend more or less for itself, and it is not terribly aggressive in its search for Strainists with which to do battle. Botched night raids did much to dampen Indonesian enthusiasm, after all, so more effort is spent in arraying and staging forces than in actually mounting attacks. A motorized force does, however, attempt to block the beach to further reinforcements, and it comes racing down the shoreline from a point considerably north of Tarakan town. However, recognizing the likelihood of Strainist reinforcement, Indonesian sappers occupy themselves also with clearing an evacuation route from the town and with commandeering as many boats as possible for the trip to the mainland.

Sulawesi

Strainist bombardment further slows the Khandaq advance, still largely conducted at walking pace, although it is by no means stopped. Low-flying fighter-bombers put themselves at the mercy of RBS-70 posts and a profusion of light AA pieces, as always, but these are spread along the length of a very long and slow-moving column and might not always be there when needed. Lead elements begin to engage the Strainist column with their armored cars, often employing TOW missiles in hit-and-run attacks on enemy tanks, although the need to optically guide the rocket to the target necessarily delays the running part. Every delay in the Strainist advance is essential, and news of a slowed Strainist pace, at least as far as the western column is concerned, is very much welcome. Indeed, it is not the regiment's goal to engage the enemy column on its own. Initially, it had been the intention to hit the enemy from the rear while the enemy fought the Mecca Regiment in Polewali, although the premature commencement of the maneuver condemned it to failure. Now, with the Strainists consolidating, it will fall to the mobile armored units to harass the enemy as the foot infantrymen cut across country and join with the Mecca Regiment, hopefully heading-off the enemy's western column. Provided the enemy is not much further north than Pare-Pare, Indonesian commanders expect the maneuver to be a successful one.

The Hunayn Regiment, meanwhile, does not stop its retreat at Palopo, but instead continues along the coast road, its commander convinced of the wholesale destruction of his unit should it slacken the pace of the retreat. Although a stand at Palopo might serve to delay the eastern column for a few hours, the outcome of such a contest is written, and it would seem more useful to have a somewhat intact regiment operating in the north of the island than to have no regular army presence in the whole of Sulawesi. A single battalion is left in Palopo, with the unenviable task of tripping-up the Strainists as the bulk of the Regiment runs north as fast as its ramshackle collection of vehicles will move. In the northern part of the island, an increasingly suspicious Mohammed Kalla begins to enact punitive measures against Sulawesi's Christian minority. Militiamen and regulars, often escorted by armed trucks and jeeps, are dispatched to Christian villages, with deliberately vague orders to relocate the population to the south. What Kalla has in mind, and this will soon become apparent, is the wholesale destruction of the Christian minority. He does not want there to be a nucleus of people on Sulawesi who are committed to his overthrow.

Malukus

The arrival of Hindustani reinforcements prompts the Sultan of Jailolo to launch a desperate, all-out attack against the enemy paratroopers, who are rapidly reaching numerical parity with his forces. Bugles sound and mortar emplacements open fire on Galela as, led by machine gun-toting shock troops, Jailolo's some 1,400 remaining troops charge enemy positions, guns blazing. At the same time Jailolo considers the Strainist offer of clemency. Indeed, if he does not drive the Indians out of Galela now, he expects to lose his force, and certainly none of the other Sultans will be eager to take him in. Should his attack fail to achieve sufficient results, Jailolo resolves to radio his surrender to the Strainists, thus saving himself and possibly some vestiges of his old power.

At Kao, enemy paratroopers face no resistance. The Sultan of Ternate, who would otherwise be guarding the airstrip, is entrenched near Galela, awaiting his piece of the action there. Around Kao are only a few poorly-armed militiamen, most of whom have no intention of mounting serious resistance to the enemy landings. Ternate meanwhile also begins to consider Strainist promises, and prepares to move his force from Duma back towards Ternate. On Ternate and Tidore, Sultanate levies continue to entrench themselves, some 2,500 troops in all dispersed between the two islands, but, thanks to their complete lack of intelligence assets, don't have any idea of the particulars of the amphibious force heading to attack them. 100mm and 120mm coastal guns are the islands' most powerful defense, and these sit hidden under heavy camouflage. Should the enemy come close enough, the Indonesians will attempt to score some hits on their warships with their elderly rifles, taken off wrecked Japanese and Dutch destroyers.

Aceh

Fighting in Aceh continues to be fierce and Achenese regulars put up as much resistance as they can, but the M-T-L line is soon breeched in many places. Militia levies and retreating regular units try to retreat towards the stronger defenses around Banda Aceh ahead of the Strainist columns, picking their own way through the forests of minefields and tank obstacles meant to obstruct the progress of retreating militiamen as much as the advancing enemy. The Uhud Regiment abandons its Leopards in the retreat, what few are left, and crews destroy them by igniting their magazines. For the Achenese tankers, the task of navigating the roadblocks and minefields that obstruct the road west is one that few are willing to take up.

Closer to Banda Aceh, Mansur's personal guard prepares itself for what will likely be its final battle. Fortifications are strengthened as much as possible, although those not capable of withstanding heavy bombardment have mostly already been wrecked. In Banda Aceh itself, barricades are raised in the streets and buildings are rigged for demolition in preparation for heavy urban fighting, while Mansur himself, still safe within his bunker deep below his palace, finalizes his plans for escape. With a speedboat waiting on an isolated strip of beach, Mansur intends to run for the Andaman & Nicobar islands, and seek asylum with the Quinntonians. Surrender to the Javanese is, at least as far as he is concerned, out of the question.

Friendship visit by ROCN

The ROCN 13th fleet will visit Strainist Indonesia within a few days as an outreach to the new management of Indonesia. It is also likely that the fleet will take part in anti-piracy operations and attempt to stop people smuggling operations, an unfortunate side effect of the fighting.

The 13th fleet consists of:

2 Light carriers (18 J-14B, 14 Support aircraft - AWACS, refueling, ASW, etc)
5 Yang class cruisers
6 Huang (Wong) class destroyers
16 Kang Ding II frigates
12 hospital ships - to take part in further aid operations
30 resupply vessels - also involved in aid operations
35 troop vessels
2 Ming class SSGNs
5 Han II class SSNs

The 18th fleet (here from the beginning doing aid and that sort)
2 Yang class cruisers
4 Huang (Wong) class destroyers
45 supply vessels

Across the Indonesian archipelago, Strainist propaganda continues to echo out… radio broadcasts, well known to neighbors both here and in Lyong, pierce through louder than ever before as Kalla’s coastal jamming towers begin to fall, while all manner of other media are used in equal measure. “… join a thousand peoples united in one Party!...” “… participate in the new future of prosperity!...” “… cooperate with the Revolutionary Army in the battle against the tyrant Kalla!...” slogans and the virtues of the Party’s new order are accompanied by news briefs on Revolutionary victories and widespread popular uprisings, though in keeping with SRA tradition they tend to substitute melodrama for detail.

The same cannot be said for the civil media within the Strainist republics, particularly Lyong. Casualties are never welcome, and to some the effort seems ill-timed… Kalla might be a despot, but few thought him a threat to the world, and while Strainist soldiers fight their local war the troops of India and of Armand mass to do battle with the much more obvious danger of the Holy League as it reaches out for Africa. Questions soon arise in Party debates, and the Public Safety Committee warns it will likely not belong before domestic casualties are suffered due to clashes between student protesters.

Propaganda in Indonesia also takes on a rather brutal market-oriented element… substantial bounties are offered for key figures in Kalla’s regime, as well as regional leaders and sultans who prove resistant to offers of clemency. It is hoped that enemy soldiers, knowing that their current masters will eventually be defeated, will mutiny to secure their own personal futures. At the very least, it will insert enough mistrust into the Indonesian command chain to hinder coordinated strategy.

Chinese aid is accepted eagerly into the ongoing relief efforts which follow Strainist occupation, as is assistance in dealing with the threat of pirate raiders and smugglers (though Strainist naval officers have a disturbing tendency to assume nearby NATO/SEATO and League vessels are also preparing for piracy).

Across Indonesia, precision bombings continue round-the-clock, though the lack of dedicated bombers and attack craft shows itself in the relatively low payload delivered in each sortie. Pilots generally do not stray too close to the ground for fear of enemy air defenses, so strafing is rare save when a pilot happens upon an exposed retreat.

Kalimantan

Strainist infantry continue to advance, though their pace slows as terrain becomes more difficult. Still, it is not long before Pontianak comes under fire from the artillery components of Strainist infantry brigades. At Pankalanbun, consolidation begins after the loss of scouting elements during advances into the town… unaware of exact enemy numbers, the SRA commander waits until advancing forces have mustered to battalion strength before pressing forward into the fray.

At Balikpapan, matters are becoming increasingly difficult… if the actual fighting with the Indonesians has been relatively successful, there is widespread understanding that the SRA has failed to take the city and must withdraw before it can consolidate and make a second attempt. Amongst the marine infantry, dominated as they are by Lyongese soldiers, such failure leads some to thoughts of redemption through self-sacrifice.

The Strainists at Tarakan are themselves not overly aggressive in seeking combat, dividing into squads for additional flexibility as they attempt to snipe and ambush Indonesian searchers.

Sulawesi

After its first vehicle losses, the western column of SRA troops begins to dispatch flanking patrols, bearing anti-tank rockets, to intercept mechanized enemy raids before they can reach the main body . Palopo, on the other hand, is the sight of a full-force assault against the Indonesians left there, in hopes of crushing them quickly… the SRA does not want the Hunayn to escape so it might return another day.

In the north, Strainist advisors amongst the Christian minority are gravely concerned by the approach of trucks and relocation teams, encouraging retreat from the villages and resistance where there are the arms to do so… if Kalla’s men arrive in numbers small enough to be dealt with, ambushes and snipers are arranged.

Malukus

Faced with a human wave assault, Hindustani and Strainist forces in Galela do not bother with conservation of ammunition… this is the turning point, and if the enemy is not hobbled now there will be little use for stockpiles. In many places, a handful of soldiers on the perimeter retreat down streets along which others have been emplaced, not only encouraging the enemy to waste ammunition in the excitement of the charge, but drawing them in so they might be fired upon from the flanks.

At Kao, no time is wasted in preparing the airfield and beginning to move Strainist troops in via transport aircraft. Reinforcements spread out to secure the surrounding area while consolidating sufficient numbers to make an advance northward to relieve Galela.

Aceh

http://img507.imageshack.us/img507/8044/acehcampaignmaplatejunest1.jpg

SRA tanks and mechanized infantry lead the pursuit of retreating enemy forces as the M-T-L line collapses, delayed increasingly as attached engineering platoons and artillery clear obstacles and mines from the road ahead. There is little pity shown for Acehnese militia on the run… better to kill them now than leave them for later. Given the likely halphazard nature of militia uniforms in Aceh, Strainist rounds doubtless fell non-combatants who have the misfortune to be evacuating along the same roads as the soldiers.

In the ruins of Tapaktuan, SRA engineers set about plotting the frame of a new city, bulldozers flattening rubble and tents rising to form temporary hospitals and refugee camps. Eventually, permanent edifices will rise here, as immigrants from crowded Java arrive in search of greater prosperity, but at the moment all is flat and quiet.

(OCC: Sorry that this has been so long in coming. It should do for now, and if I've missed anything major please say so. In all likelihood the final product, fully expanded and edited, should be done within a few days.)

The Islamic Republic of Indonesia

Strainist propaganda reaches the ears of a great many Indonesians, but few are inspired by it. Promises made over the radio and by leaflet don't have the appeal that they did, and, bombarded first by the Federal Republic and then by Mohammed Kalla, most Indonesians are pretty numb to propaganda of any color. Those inclined to support the Strainists were convinced long ago, and likewise those set on opposing the Sujavan invasion did not wait to make up their minds.

Support for Kalla himself, and Kalla's government, is by no means strong, however, limited to radicals and the people paid by Kalla. Repression and economic stagnation do not much endear the people of the IRI to their leader, and few will be upset to see him go. This is especially true for mistreated Indonesian Christians, Buddhists, forcibly-resettled Javanese, and minority populations in general. But amongst Muslim and ethnic-majority populations across the IRI, dislike of Kalla is perhaps outweighed by distrust of the Strainists. Though not free politically or especially prosperous in the global sense, under Kalla many Indonesians were able to enjoy significant local autonomy, and the interests of traditionally Muslim ethnicities were often pursued over those of non-Muslims. More than a few Indonesians won land and wealth at the expense of their countrymen. And the same people are not eager to see the situation reversed, or those oppressed groups being given power.

Kalimantan

In Pontianak, the tattered remnants of the Yarmuk Regiment finally face the Strainist columns coming south from Singkawang. There can be little doubt as to the eventual outcome of the battle, the Indonesians numbering not much more than fifteen hundred regulars plus perhaps that many levies, and equipped in large part with WWII-era equipment. That said, the depleted, under-equipped Indonesian force has done much to improve its chances, and it has the advantage of a well-prepared defensive position.

The Strainists will find the roads leading towards Pontianak to be heavily mined and strewn with obstacles, and the Landak river itself mined against any river-borne effort to take the town. A few well-camouflaged bunkers sit next to the river road, often containing an M40 recoilless rifle or other anti-armor weapon, meant to hold-up the enemy columns so that mortar fire might be brought down on them. The cleared farmland that surrounds Pontianak should, though, not pose any great problem for infantry, in spite of the fact that it too is littered with anti-personnel mines and the occasional machine-gun nest.

Heavy fighting will occur once the Strainists enter Pontianak proper. On the north side of the Landak river, which splits Pontianak into about three parts, Indonesian presence is limited. Bridges spanning the river are rigged for demolition, and troops, for the most part, dug-in along the south bank. Machine gun and recoilless rifle emplacements are established in buildings with good fields of fire across the river, and a small armored car detachment is held in reserve in case the enemy tries to flank the Indonesian position.

Pangkalanbun, meanwhile, is over much more quickly. The company-size Indonesian force fights with determination against the Strainist troops, but it is not long before the widely-dispersed Indonesians are overcome. Survivors of the engagement flee overland towards the Sultan of Banjarmasin's territory.

The third battle for Tarakan continues as well, the two Indonesian battalions there shaken but hardly destroyed by the WIG-borne Strainist troops. Commanders in Samarinda do finally gather the courage to dispatch the long-delayed Hawk sortie, and six Indonesian aircraft take to the air, loaded with cluster bombs and rocket pods, bound for Tarakan Island.

Indonesian defenders take an increasingly passive posture, occupying positions in the high ground that dominates the center of Tarakan and largely abandoning efforts to root out the Spyrian naval infantry.

Balikpapan continues to look promising for Indonesian troops, who are attacking the Strainists there in force. Against a backdrop of wrecked buildings and burning tank farms, Kalla's infantrymen and armored car crews move into the city itself, seeking to link-up with the battalions positioned along the coast and in so doing eliminate the Strainist marines. The force has, though, failed to completely surround Balikpapan, and, although they are doubtless being heavily engaged, the Strainists will likely be able to find several lightly guarded or entirely undefended routes out of the city, which will not be blocked-up for some time.

Troops at Sepinggan Airport do their best to hold the airfield while support makes its way up from inland. Heavy rifle and machine gun fire is directed against the enemy from the terminal buildings and the control tower, and the Strainists might find some cover amongst the demolished hangar buildings or one of many wrecked airplanes on the tarmac. Hopefully, a section of Saracen armored cars will soon arrive and eject the Strainists from Sepinggan with an attack on their flank.

Sulawesi

Lead elements of the Khandaq Regiment are quick to suffer losses at the hands of Strainist flankers. Attacks against the main column cease as skirmishers are brought up to deal with the enemy anti-tank forces. The regiment's advance continues to proceed quite slowly, but advance it does, headed to attack the Strainist column in Pare-Pare. The Indonesians are not entirely interested in winning a decisive victory, and have largely resigned themselves to the impossibility of that. Rather, they seek to force the Strainists into a defensive posture, thus buying time for the Mecca Regiment in Polewali to improve its defenses and perhaps receive reinforcements from further north.

Whether this strategy is actually worthwhile is anyone's guess. Doubtless the Khandaq Regiment would have been more usefully deployed in Polewali, reinforcing the Mecca Regiment's position, or in the east with the Hunayn Regiment. The middle position which it occupies is of little strategic consequence, and merely serves to obstruct the numerically superior western column should it attempt to link up with the numerically superior eastern column. An attack on the enemy's column may prove to be only a useless waste of already extremely limited resources.

In Palopo, the unfortunate Indonesian battalion left behind by the Hunayn Regiment is forced to engage the Strainist eastern column. Strainists will find the town strewn with barricades and piles of debris, and heavily mined. Sporadic machine gun fire greets the Strainist advance guard as it pushes into the town, while anti-tank sections, conducting themselves with as much stealth as possible, wait for the enemy's vehicles to come within range of their LAWs and Armbrusts. It will likely be a bitter fight, and the Indonesian battalion is more or less well-placed to cause the Strainists some inconvenience, but the outcome is very much assured. Strainist troops will be forced to eliminate scattered, fairly well-armed groups of Indonesians, and will be obliged to clear barricades and mines, but there aren't nearly enough of these to seriously harm the eastern column. And the Hunayn Regiment, meanwhile, continues its retreat north, headed for the high ground north of Wotu, in the center of Sulawesi.

The fight against Christian insurgency in northern and central Sulawesi takes a decidedly nasty turn, as Kalla's relocation program is re-interpreted as officially-sanctioned massacre. Militia levies, and regular troops as well, embark on a pillaging spree of Christian villages, their disregard for the rights of noncombatants only increased as they encounter resistance. Poorly-led, careless Militia detachments do often fall prey to Christian ambushes, and the Indonesians hardly have it all their way.

Halmahera

The Sultan of Jailolo's men rush Strainist and Hindustani positions with reckless abandon, firing and hurling grenades as they make one last attempt to force the enemy into the sea. But the pace of the attack begins to slacken as losses amongst the Indonesian troops mount, their general lack of training beginning to show as the enemy reinforcements bring the two forces closer to numerical parity. Ambushes and feigned retreats catch many over-zealous Indonesians, delighted at seeing their enemy fleeing before them, only to be cut down moments later. That is not to say that the Indonesians fight with any less determination. Mortars continue to drop intermittent fire down on enemy positions and RPD gunners keep up suppressive fire as best they can.

The Sultan himself watches the battle intently through a pair of over-sized binoculars. Depending on whether his troops break the enemy or are themselves broken, he will radio his surrender and accession to the Strainists, and in so doing hopefully gain immunity from serious prosecution and some form of tenure.

Ternate and Tidore, long home to Islamic sultanates and the seat of local powers even now, prepare themselves for invasion. Coastal defenses are manned and AA guns pointed skyward, in anticipation of another parachute assault on the enemy's part.

Aceh

Nowhere is the fighting more intense than in Aceh. With the M-T-L line well and truly breached, focus shifts on the multi-layered Banda Aceh line, Sultan Mansur's last series of fortifications before the capital. Retreating regular and militia detachments have a tough time navigating the gaps built into the extensive minefields and wire entanglements, and, over the course of the night, hundreds of Achenese are maimed and killed when they stray into their own minefields. Heavy casualties are suffered in all units, especially those late in abandoning the M-T-L line, who often find themselves surrounded and headed-off by Strainist troops, or taken as such by jittery Achenese gunners.

Achenese soldiers prepare themselves for the final stage of the battle, the fight for Banda Aceh itself. The Banda Aceh line is well-manned and well-built, though, with carefully laid kill zones and tank traps, and it is manned by the Sultan's large personal bodyguard, Aceh's best-trained and best-equipped soldiers.

Irregulars mount harassing raids against Strainist rear areas, hoping to disrupt their advance as much as possible. Achenese civilians are of course quite heavily-armed, in anticipation of the guerrilla struggle that will, in all likelihood, follow the end of major combat operations as the Achenese try to preserve their independence.

OOC: Would I be able to ask if there is a "likely" outcome for this that we can base our RPing on? It seems as though no other major powers are involved and thus Strainist victory appears close to certain.

The reason I ask is, as there has been a resumption of armed conflict in the Mediterranean and shooting between BG and Gurg, China will almost definitely try to put pressure on Britain not to involve Singapore in the war in any role.

Indonesian Archipelago

If victory was counted in territory, the Strainists were winning… the advance of the Revolutionary Army into Indonesia was inexorable. If it were counted in bodies, there too victory seemed obvious: more of Kalla’s men by far lay dead than did Sujavans or Lyongese, and that trend was not likely to change. On every front (with one glaring exception), Strainist troops employed superior technology and superior training to oust their foes, and even the most cynical observer knew it would be only a matter of months, if not weeks, before conventional resistance would be brought to an end and the lands held by Mohammed Kalla brought into the Strainist fold. Victory, in this sense, was inevitable.

But, as those aware of such things would certainly warn, victory was not so simple a thing as drawing new lines on maps and hunting down the last of the enemy’s battle tanks. Defeating Kalla was the easy part: controlling the peoples of Indonesia would be harder by far.

But for now, such concerns were pushed aside. There were still Islamic Guard to fight, still sultans to unseat, no matter how certain the eventual outcome might be.

Strainist representatives might attempt to assuage local concerns over autonomy by pointing to the Party’s extensive package of rights and powers for ethnic minorities, including at least one representative from each group in the central Party congress as well as local control of economic projects and policing elements. The Party is, however, a centralized organization in many respects, and its view of ‘autonomy’ may come up short next to that granted by Kalla’s neglect… in Sujava, the Strainists were perhaps lulled into a false sense of confidence by relatively pliable minority groups glad to have any freedom at all after decades of Federal oppression. Indonesians, having sampled a different system following their liberation, might not be so accepting. Still, the effort goes ahead nonetheless, many officials taking advantage of years spent planning Indonesia’s absorption to set out ambitious timetables for Party elections. In the words of one , “they’ll be squabbling in committee by September!”

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Balikpapan

Increasingly outnumbered, both the Strainist marines and their reinforcements concentrate their attacks upon the airport… the former attempting to break out of the city while the latter pushes to link up with them across the tarmac. If they are to be further bolstered, or if they are to evacuate, Sepinggan seems the best place to do it. A squadron of Strainist fighters operates over the city, appearing every two or so hours to unload laser-guided bombs on enemy concentrations.
There is some desperation creeping into the thinking of SRA commanders as they fight their losing battle… they are now aware that reinforcements will not likely arrive for several days, having requested the diversion of such forces to northern Sulawesi. A small comfort, at least, that their defeat may mean a massacre is halted elsewhere.

On the oil rigs off the coast, Strainist troops look on helplessly, what helicopters remain lacking sufficient fuel for further operations.

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Makassar

The rubble on the hill was eerie, standing as it did overlooking the city of Makassar… a single point of devastation amidst a city which had survived largely untouched. Closest to the fort stood the city’s Chinatown, whose tight-packed houses had once pressed up against the very fortress walls, but Indonesian authorities had long ago evicted the tenants and cleared the area for their machine gun arcs, the damage to the district inflicted during firefights rather than by falling shells.

In the rubble, one could occasionally see a rusted cannon here, there a bright red tile, speaking to the storied past of the edifice which had once stood here. Ujung Pandang had been born as a fortress of the Gowa Empire, had fallen to Tulgary and stood astride the spice trade as Fort Rotterdam, had been a school for language and agriculture under occupation by Japan, had been girded with concrete and steel to serve as garrison for Papuan conscripts under Bonstock, and then as seat of government for the dictatorship of Indonesia. Strainist bombardment had now set it on a different course… no new layer could be added by the new regime, nor did they wish to join the long line of kings and conquerors who had looked out over the city from behind the fortress walls. Most likely, new housing developments would cover over the land where the fort once stood, alleviating the cramped conditions which plagued Makassar’s Chinatown and burying the past.

Visible behind the ruined fort, the container port of Makassar was busier than it had been since the end of Singaporean rule in Sulawesi, troops and supplies for the ongoing war effort joined by aid and Party functionaries seeking to win over the populace. Amongst the passengers disembarking was a team of artisans and engineers bound for the ruins… they would be cleared, roads plotted, new buildings proposed. And, monuments erected.

The most obvious memorial to be raised would, of course, be one to honour the Revolutionary dead who had perished in the battle for the city, and the civilians who had fallen in the battle. Such monuments were part of the SRA’s standard practice, the trailing vestige of the ancestor worship found in Lyongese culture. The second memorial would replace one which had been amongst the first casualties of the bombardment: the statue of Prince Diponegoro. Built by the FRB soon after its founding, the statue had stood outside the fortress gate as a symbol of unity: a Javanese prince, buried in Sulawesi, who like the Singaporeans had fought against Tulgary. Now, Singapore lost its role to the Strainists and took up Tulgary’s post, but the Prince would stand again, ever the symbol of unity.

The streets of Makassar had still not returned to the commercial bustle of earlier years, the people here having suffered through economic collapse under Kalla and invasion by the Strainists, but that would change in time. Soldiers on duty patrolled the streets, off-duty sought to purchase the seafood dishes and golden trinkets for which the city was known. Strainist officials traveled door-to-door, taking census and encouraging the populace to join the Party. Perhaps it was too soon to see people flock to the cherry-blossom banners, but eventually they would come… the Party would replace the state, as it had in Lyong and in Sujava, membership replacing citizenship.

The miniarets at Al-Markaz Al-Islami had not skipped a call to prayer, though the muezzin was free to vary from the strict monotone imposed by the agents of the Jemmah Islamiah. Their absence also lifts dress codes such as the requirement for women to wear face coverings, though this is a cause for concern amongst Strainist authorities… while technically the Party imposes no restrictions on dress, there is much potential for unrest here and in other areas of liberalization. Optimally most women would wear jilbab headscarves of some sort, as do women in the SRA and most Sujavans, but such is unlikely: under Bonstockian rule, much more militantly secular, windswept hair and tank-tops had been common, and some would likely soon pull jeans and lipstick from under floorboards to take up that abandoned trend. Opposite them, years under Kalla’s extremism had doubtless left a few radicals amongst the population who would respond to the sight of secular dress with no small amount of anger.
The Party could limit controversies such as consumption of pork in occupied Indonesia by simply choosing not to ship any in, but matters such as dress would not be controlled without a heavy hand… something, being opposite to the words of freedom and progress the Party preached, few wished to see implemented. Hopefully matters would not roll too far downhill before they could be resolved.

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North of Makassar

While Strainist forces in the east push onward, pursuing their Indonesian counterparts, the western column draws itself up so as to mount a better defense, unaware that this has been the goal of the opposing commander. Still, were they present in the column’s own headquarters vehicles, they might be less pleased with their success… the Strainists have decided to wait so they might assemble substantial ordnance for their beloved MRLs, to break the forces digging in at Polewali.

Northern Sulawesi

Spyr’s few WIGs, loaded with fresh troops, soon come roaring up around the coast of Sulawesi, depositing their men as quickly as can be done before speeding homeward. Those troops make their way inland in a desperate attempt to repel, or at least divert, the Indonesians. Strainist agents already on the ground continue to encourage the populace to evacuate into the countryside, avoiding Indonesian concentrations and attacking Kalla’s men when they are scattered or resting.

Pontianak

As more troops come ashore to the north, Strainist forces are kept busy inching along the southward route, clearing mines and obstacles as well as fending off Indonesian ambushes. It is hoped that a few amphibious tanks can be brought up to assist in the assault on the city itself, and some artillery to suppress fire from across the river, so when the first SRA troops come within sight of the city itself they are forced to stop and wait.
Several soldiers wear the unusual gear of the SRA’s ‘river crossing infantry’, an inflatable belt and a small hand oar, but no one is about to try and paddle across a body of water when there are machine guns watching from the opposite bank.

Moluccas

Hindustanis and Strainists at Halmehara continue to fight, having little room to retreat. While the Hindustanis remain somewhat restrained with expenditure of ammunition, the Strainists empty their weapons into the enemy and then ready their long bayonets for the inevitable house-to-house melee.

Ships off the coast offer an occasional shot, though the close nature of the fighting limits their ability to find suitable targets. Their boats, waiting at the docks, prepare to cast off should the Indonesians fail to falter.

Aceh

“Here’s another one, corporal!”

’Damn.’

Corporal Ahmad Harahap had hoped he’d seen the last of them an hour ago... ever since they’d passed Meulaboh, they’d been running into stragglers from the retreating Acehnese militias… an added delay, as if their pace through the obstacles and rough terrain wasn’t slow enough.
Harahap looked over at the man who had just been tossed before him, hands bound with plastic flex-cuffs. Like the others, he had been relieved of his weapon… or dropped it as he fled. His drab FRB-era fatigues, uncomfortable at the best of times, was covered in filth and matted with sweat, and his face looked tired… almost hopeless.

Harahap had to restrain an unconscious smirk. He had grown up in southern Sumatra, where Acehnese conscripts had been garrisoned as lapdogs to the regime in Singapore, and remembered well the street patrols chasing him and his playmates down the streets, or taking trinkets from street stalls whose owners were too fearful to object. Those men, THIS man, deserved to be laid low for that at least, and even after the fall of Bonstock they had proven to be incorrigible. What but inherent malice could have driven them to reject a prosperous future and join with the despot Kalla? How long would it be before they turned back to their Singaporean masters and sought to enslave Sumatra once again? The SRA was putting a stop to that possibility, at least… the Acehnese would be forced to reform and renounce their evil ways. If that was even possible.

Harahap knelt and began the litany which the SRA directed at each newly-acquired prisoner. While many took the recitation rather seriously, he was unable to muster much excitement for it.

“You have been captured by the forces of the Revolution, and have nothing to fear… your suffering is over. If you feel that you are beyond redemption, then we will assist you in exercising your right to death. If, on the other hand, you wish to reform, you will be sent to a detainment camp for Revolutionary education so you might transcend the manipulations of the feudal-capitalists and join us in comradeship.”

The prisoner’s only reply was a spray of spittle into Harahap’s face.

The corporal looked around. If that had not been proof that the people of Aceh were beyond hope of redemption, he did not know what was, but he knew some of his men would never accept what had to be done. He straightened, wiping the spittle from his face with a sleeve.

“Check for enemy emplacements and a good fording point along the river up there… I’ll take him back to the company so they can keep him until the POW trucks come back around.”

Harahap grabbed the prisoner’s jacket at the back of the collar, and dragged him to his feet, pulling him roughly along the trail back towards company command. He was quickly out of sight as the rest of the unit set about their assignment.

It took only a few moments before a gunshot rank out through the trees, followed shortly by the corporal’s re-emergence. Harahap joined his men as they moved to search the river, offering no comment until receiving several questioning looks.

“He tried to run.”

The incident received no further mention as the patrol made its way across the river and resumed its advance, though nervous glances passed between a few of the men. War was war, but when it came to corporal Harahap, it seemed they always tried to run.

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-------

[OOC: As noted IC above in rather pompous fashion, victory is pretty much certain for the Strainists in Indonesia, as Kalla hasn’t much capacity to maintain a conventional defence for very long and by the time any foreign forces can gather a sufficient response to make a difference, the war will already be over. Partisan fighting is another matter entirely, and in that sense things might not come to an end in Indonesia for years.

On relations with matters elsewhere, I’m trying to get up a timeline (http://z9.invisionfree.com/NS_Modern_World/index.php?showtopic=346), but this thread has fallen quite a bit behind its African counterpart, so it may be resolved prior to Anglo-Soviet hostilities or Australasian takeover of Singapore].

Tarakan

Strainist forces at Tarakan, left with nominal control of the urbanized lowland by the defenders’ consolidation at more defensible inland locations, are forced to await reinforcements and air support before they attempt any further advances, aware of the difficulties at Balikpapan and not wanting to die needlessly… the island’s forest hills would require the infantry to engage in heavy combat, but waiting and launching air and artillery bombardments was a much better price than buying the victory quickly with blood. The officer in command, Baneko Shenhe, promises his superiors that when granted such reinforcements, the island will be completely pacified by the middle of July: not the 48-hour dreams of more ambitious officers, but Baneko may well emerge from the campaign ahead for having fulfilled his promises while those others seek out excuses for their delays.

During the period of relative calm, an effort is made to assess the state of the island’s infrastructure. The airfield here is optimally placed for use in further operations both on Borneo and Sulawesi, but it may take some time to reverse any damage: the swampy terrain on which it is situated presents a challenge to whichever engineer will be given the task. The commercial port too, with its lifting cranes, would be of great use in the future if it had not suffered excessive sabotage, though as with the airfield they could not be put to proper use until enemy forces were driven from the high ground. While not a massive outflow, there is also interest as to how much damage has been done to the island’s oil production. Three thousand barrels a day might take some of the edge of the bills Sithin was now paying to their Combine allies in order to fuel their war machine. Though individually many of the Strainists on Tarakan worry as to the well-being of the island’s inhabitants (as well as their leanings in the conflict), little can be done until more forces arrive and the Indonesian defenders are pushed from the heights.

Baneko’s efforts to plan and consolidate soon hit a nasty bump, as enemy aircraft are sighted on approach. Lacking much in the way of air defences, he orders his men to disperse as much as possible, with those bearing heavier machine guns to take on targets of opportunity should the Hawks come in too low. It is a stop-gap measure, and perhaps something further will need to be improvised… though the presence of enemy planes was communicated quickly to his superiors, Baneko is well aware that the aircraft which ought to have been loitering about awaiting just such an occurrence have left to engage targets in northern Sulawesi, and it will be almost an hour before fresh craft can reach his position. Hopefully the Indonesians can’t do too much damage to his force while they wait.

Pontianak

[OOC: I’m having a bit of geographic difficulty with the rivers around Pontianak… satellite imagery helped me finally find the oil rigs near Balikpapan, but they also show a wide branch of the Kapuas river jumping up to meet the Landak at Pontianak, ensuring the city’s division into three. This river’s appearance and name on other maps is, however, inconsistent, as is the name of the united Kapuas-Landak flow as it empties into the sea… please forgive any errors relating to such, and please correct if any glaring mistakes appear, particularly with regard to the Jawi river and its peers, which connect the Kapuas to the Kapuas as far as I can tell…].

Amongst the Malay, a pontianak is a ghost, a woman who died in childbirth only to return for vampiric revenge. Local legends spoke of a ghostly kingdom which once occupied this place, displaced by the founder of the city but remembered in its name.

Most would dismiss such myths. The Lyongese took them very seriously. Ghosts emerged when souls did not fulfil their duties, and in great numbers their presence spoke of a place where their was great imbalance between Heaven and Earth. The founding of the city might have fought against such spiritual darkness, but much time had passed… Indonesia, like Bonstock and the Dutch before, acted in opposition to the will of Heaven, and who knew what evils had returned and accumulated while they neglected proper rituals?

It was for this reason that prayers had been burnt in Lyong, and some war materials arriving for the impending assault bore the smoky scents of incense or blessings chalked in Chinese ideograms. Sujava’s branch of Islam might be influenced by local animist beliefs, but few of the soldiers put much stalk in Lyongese ritual. Still, no one turns down the extra tea and tangerines added to their rations, nor the additional provisions for showers as they await the order to press onward.

The order to do so came sooner than many had expected, leaving Strainist forces without the main battle tanks many had hoped to see shipped over after operations in Aceh. News of Kalla’s men moving into northern Sulawesi had SRA commanders fearful that the Indonesians might begin similar operations amongst other groups suspected of pro-Strainist leanings, and Pontianak was home not only to a large Chinese minority, but to Javanese and Madurese as well, transplanted from territories in present-day Sujava and economically marginalized by local peoples who had gained greater autonomy after the fall of Bonstock. Even before the end of the FRB, clashes between Madurese and Dayaks had taken place, the former coming out the worse for it against a people who both knew the land and still retained much knowledge from a tradition of hunting heads. Pontianak needed to be secured and returned to order before a massacre could begin.

The overall command element of Strainist forces arrayed against Pontianak had stopped to prepare at Sungai Penuh, 50 kilometres north of Pontianak along the coast. From there, commanders envisioned a frontal effort accompanied by two flanking maneuvers, which would disrupt the defenders and allow a crossing of the Landak. Preferably, riverborne troops would have eliminated much of the need for the attempt at a pincer, but Indonesian mines were deemed too difficult to clear properly under fire… SRA plans could deal with sections of the river, but not its length from coast to town.

There was surprise that the bridges had yet to be blown, and here the SRA suffered a failure of intelligence.
The first difficulty of intelligence is being in the right place at the right time, so that a particular event can be perceived… in the era before satellites and radar, this was where failure usually occurred, and even today no power can be all-seeing, with the most thorough intelligence networks consuming vast resources.
And such massive networks increase greatly the chance of a second sort of failure: the failure to comprehend the significance of what one has perceived. Each image, each piece of intelligence gathered, must still be examined by human senses in order to put it into context, and the more information one brings in the more each such human agent must absorb, increasing the chance of error. Likely, somewhere in the piles of photographs passing through computers in Jakarta was a photograph of Indonesian soldiers planting explosives around Pontianak’s bridges. Likely, given that photo and a few days to go through all the possibilities, one of the SRA’s analysts would have determined exactly what it was they were doing. But there were too many photographs of too many things, too many possible explanations, too little time… in their attempt to grasp omnipotence the Revolutionary Army lost something through the inevitable cracks. Whatever the particulars, it was concluded that the Indonesians planned to use the bridges to concentrate the attackers so they could be bombarded by artillery and machine guns… a tactic which could be overcome by aerial and artillery bombardment to scatter the Indonesians from their prepared fire arcs while troops rushed across the bridge to secure the other side.

The frontal advance crept forward in the general vicinity of the river road, battling enemy emplacements and clearing mines. With it came all of the force’s artillery, to be used in bombarding the Indonesians on the opposite bank. Engineers with pontoon bridges also came, to be kept ready until the time came for an attempt to cross the river. Once an opening appeared, the Strainist artillery would shift its fire from the defenders to the river itself, in hope that the explosive force of their shelling would help clear any mines between the two banks. Then, amphibious tanks and APCs would carry forth a wave of troops, while bridges were laid for the rest to make the crossing.

The western pincer was to take place along rivers such as the Jawi, thin branches of the Kapuas irrigating farmland as they stretched southwest from the city to the sea. Cholima hovercraft were to deploy along these rivers, carrying heavily-armed infantry who would disembark along the city’s western edge to come upon the defenders from the rear, hopefully providing the opening needed by the main force before it attempted to cross.

The eastern pincer had a more difficult task, securing the bridges across the Landak and Kapuas. Infantry equipped with the SRA’s odd PFDs, accompanied by a company of amphibious tanks, were to traverse the fields and scrub north of the city, rather than using the roads, so as to encounter lighter resistance. They would reach the river some three kilometres from the eastern section of Pontianak, where the Landak narrowed into two branches around a small island. There they would make a crossing and push quickly westward, while aircraft struck Indonesian positions at the defending sides of both major bridges. The force would split to attack the defenders at the Ladnak from the rear, while also pushing across the bridge over the Kapuas to hit the shaken defenders from the front. Unaware that their targets were already rigged, SRA commanders felt that quick speed would be sufficient to push the Indonesians away from the bridges before they could prepare a demolition attempt.

Initial advances were not free of fighting, but they held few surprises… a desire for speed saw casualties which might have been avoided, but it was not long before Strainist troops had reached the northern bank opposite the city. As artillery fire began to be exchanged between the two banks, photographs recorded a symbolic victory… the capture of the monument marking the city’s place directly on the line of the Equator. Equally satisfying was the sight of the former Bonstockian military headquarters for the region, sitting on the edge of the opposite bank. Struck by SRA aircraft earlier in the campaign, it was unlikely to contain many Indonesians now… a symbol of Singapore’s last tendrils being smashed, to be razed after the fighting and replaced by a far grander monument than the sphere-toped column sitting on the Equatorial line… a monument to the impending victory of Strainism.

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Balikpapan

Indonesian soldiers are nothing less than jubilant as the relief column's armored cars finally link up with the infantrymen manning the seaward defenses. After a day's hard fighting, Indonesia seems to have triumphed, driving the Strainists out of the vital city of Balikpapan and thus winning an indisputable victory over the invaders, the first such victory of the war.

Of course, that is not the whole picture. For the battalion still holding onto Sepinggan International Airport, things are looking a good deal more grim. Ammunition begins to run low as the helicopter-borne Indonesians, who ought to have been relieved by now, find themselves taken from two sides by numerically superior forces. The Hira Regiment's 3rd Battalion continues to put up a tenacious defense, even once surrounded and cut-off from the relief column itself. 20mm antiaircraft cannons are turned against enemy infantrymen and light armor, and ammunition for those weapons, stockpiled at the airport, is plentiful. The Indonesian line, though, is thin and weak, and it benefits from very little in the way of prepared defenses. Losses mount as ammunition becomes less plentiful, and as exposed, hastily-dug Hira Regiment positions are targeted by enemy heavy weapons.

It takes some time for regimental commanders to learn that the Strainist marine assault force had not, as per their plan, been surrounded and destroyed in Balikpapan. Though the enemy's retreat is encouraging, it would have been vastly preferable to be rid of the problem entirely, and to have only the recently-landed reinforcements to deal with. Nobody quite knows how many Strainists were able to escape, but radio communication with the 3rd Battalion at Sepinggan suggests to the command staff that a significant part of the marine landing force is still in fighting shape, along with perhaps a few amphibious tanks. Celebrations die down as angry messages come over company commanders' radio sets, ordering them to quit standing around and to make for Sepinggan Airport immediately. There is still, though some Indonesian troops do not realize it, a major part of the fight for Balikpapan that has yet to occur. Spearheaded by surviving Saladins and Saracens, the Hira and Ridda Regiments, or at least the major part of those two, sets off in pursuit of the Strainist marines.

At Samarinda, a formation of 24 UH-1s is hurriedly loaded with crates of 5.56mm ammunition and MATADOR rockets, while another six Hueys are fitted with 76mm rockets and MG3 machine guns. They mean to resupply the surrounded 3rd Battalion before it is overrun, but no Indonesian helicopter pilot has tried to assess the capabilities of Strainist low-level air defenses, and the Hueys may yet be in for a massacre before any supplies are delivered. Infantrymen would certainly be more useful than ammunition, but there simply are no more Indonesian regular force troopers left in reserve anywhere between Tarakan and Pontianak.

Makassar

The IRI's largest city remains, for the most part, peaceful in the wake of its seizure by Strainist naval infantry. Though a sharp, hard-fought action, the battle for Makassar left almost all of the city proper intact, the only real damage being at the airport and the destruction of historic Ujung Padang, which had become, for many of the city's residents, a symbol of oppression under Mohammed Kalla.

For a large portion of the people in Makassar, the Strainist invasion has been regarded as a positive development, removing Mohammed Kalla's political repression and promising to return the city to the commercial prominence that it held in years previous. Most Indonesians are very happy to do business with Strainist troops in the city, and Makassar's many unemployed are eager to find work again as a result of the Strainist war effort. Dockworkers in particular look to the Strainists as a source of jobs. The decline in foreign trade under Mohammed Kalla reduced traffic in and out of Makassar's well-developed port to a trickle, and the Strainist war effort is expected to exploit the port's capabilities more fully.

Some Islamic extremists lash out against the new authority in Makassar and the changes that it has allowed. The repeal of Kalla's dress codes is a major source of displeasure for the old hard-liners, though it is far from the only one. There are soon instances of women being caned in the streets, by men who consider their dress unacceptable, and instances of radios being smashed, but the segment of the population that takes part in such activities is very much a minority.

Significant suspicion is, however, leveled against Makassar's Chinese population, and, if the city had been more widely destroyed, suspicion may have boiled-over into outright violence. Certainly the Chinese minority, held in contempt by Mohammed Kalla, has much to gain from the Strainist invasion and has welcomed the Strainists with open arms. Though no great segment of the city's population could be described as hostile towards the Strainists, it is a common feeling that the Chinese will be favored by the Strainist occupiers, and that they will use their favor to compensate themselves for the oppression and marginalization that characterized Kalla's rule.

Pare-Pare, Sulawesi

Armored cars from the Khandaq Regiment and detachments of light infantry mount a few probing attacks against the halted western column, delivering TOW and mortar fire onto the occasional unlucky armored vehicle or infantry position, but at the same time doing relatively little in the way of real damage. Nightfall sees the Khandaq Regiment arrayed in its own defensive formation, while the commander weighs his options and finalizes plans for a general attack in the morning. NDL-40 rocket launchers are deployed as well, in heavily camouflaged positions, while spotters move forward in the darkness to try and sight enemy positions.

Semenanjung Minahassa

The handful of Indonesian regular troops in the northern part of Sulawesi scramble to contain the WIG-borne Strainist naval infantry. Though attacking the Islamic Guard when it is present in force is probably a bad idea for armed Minahasans, there are actually very few concentrations of Indonesian regular soldiers to watch out for. With the exception of a single mixed battalion made up of a single company from the Caliph Regiment mixed with administrative personnel and unneeded Kadisiya Regiment ground crews, the only forces loyal to the IRI in and around Manado are poorly-equipped militiamen. Taken together, this ramshackle force numbers close to five thousand, but it is operating in a Christian-majority district, where the number of hostile fighters likely well outnumbers the Indonesian force there.

Against WIG-borne Strainists, the Indonesians may have a slight advantage in the shape of their handful of BTR-40 armored cars, mounted with machine guns and the occasional 20mm Oerlikon cannon. But that advantage is slight, and will quite possibly not count for anything in the actual fighting.

WIGs racing ashore will occasionally be brought under fire from a coastal machine gun emplacement, and Todak patrol boats operating out of Manado rush out to try and engage the enemy craft before they depart, generally to no avail. Perhaps of greater consequence are the three surviving F-14s in Manado, two of which manage to sortie out against the enemy. Bearing AIM-9 missiles exclusively, since the base's small inventory of Phoenix missiles was already spent, the two Tomcats scour the area with their radars, but low-flying WIGs may well escape their notice.

Militia and regular troops rush to the site of the Strainist landings aboard a collection of civilian vehicles and on foot.

Halmahera

Though the Sultan of Jailolo's men are fighting hard, and many believe that the battle is indeed winnable, losses are becoming a serious problem, and the Sultan knows it. Watching the battle from his camouflaged command post on top of a hill to the northwest of the town, the Sultan can see his forces thinning out, his banners failing to advance. The attack is visibly running out of steam, but no order to retreat is given.

Fighting in Galela is fierce and brutal, conducted at very close quarters. Strainist marines will have plenty of opportunities to use their bayonets in the short-range engagements that soon come to characterize the battle. Jailolo's mortar teams move forward, and once again bombard the city's port, using up their last mortar bombs in an effort to destroy the enemy's evacuation boats.

Tarakan

Indonesian soldiers make their way into the hills as fast as possible, not entirely aware that the enemy isn't headed right up there behind them. They get right to work digging bunkers and trench lines, and the routes into the hills, the old paths used by Dutch and Japanese and Bonstockian forces in years past, are blocked as best as possible with tree trunks and foliage. Machine gun emplacements equipped with Ultimax LMGs are also deployed to watch over the foot trails leading into the heavily-wooded uplands.

A platoon of Indonesians continues to stubbornly hold onto Gunung Api, a ridge overlooking Tarakan and, most importantly, Tarakan's airfield. The rest of the Indonesians are further to the north, still holding the town of Djoeata, but its strategic value is negligible.

Directed by the platoon on Gunung Api, six of No.107 Squadron's Hawks finally arrives over Tarakan in late afternoon. A 51mm light mortar is used to fire smoke rounds in the general direction of the Strainists, since the Indonesians don't have a very good idea of what positions the enemy marines actually occupy. Probably the effect of the bombing sortie will be very limited, but some enemy soldiers killed is better than none, and the Hawks are best used while they still exist.

Each Indonesian aircraft carries four BL.755 cluster bombs, widely-employed weapons that feature in arsenals the world over, Kalla's included. With their Adour turbofans producing as much power as their reduced mechanical condition will allow, the Hawks rocket over Tarakan at very low altitude, the pilots hoping therefore to keep enemy troops from spotting them until the Hawks are right overhead. Once their bombs are away, the Hawks peel off and head back to Samarinda, still keeping to a very low altitude in case a Strainist CAP comes around.

A delay it might be, but Commander Baneko's choice to proceed slowly and carefully with the operation to capture Tarakan is not a bad idea at all. Strainists would not likely know it, but the 850 Indonesians on the island only have enough rations for about another ten days. After that, the Indonesian force will have to worry more about feeding itself than about holding ground against the Strainists. Of course, the conventional phase of the Strainist invasion of Indonesia could well be over by then. Only time will tell.

Pontianak

(OCC: Indeed. Google Earth is an excellent resource, to be sure, but it is often inadequate. Perhaps it is time that I invested in a good map of Indonesia. Better than waiting for one to come in National Geographic.

Anyway, its no problem. We know there are rivers around Pontianak, and we know the city's geography, so I'm sure we'll figure things out alright.)

Indonesia's war effort around Pontianak is the responsibility of Colonel Jusuf Abdurrahman, military governor of Kalimantan Barat since the start of the Philippines Crisis. Like most of Indonesia's regimental commanders, he is not a particularly able officer, as the loss of most of the Yarmuk Regiment, and, indeed, most of the province's population centers attest. But he is not a brutal man, unlike almost every other higher-echelon Islamic Guard officer, nor is he a racist or otherwise bigot. So far, with Colonel Abdurrahman in charge, inter-ethnic fighting has been heavily reduced, with severe penalties instituted for anyone caught inciting racial violence. Indeed, four soldiers from the Yarmuk Regiment itself were executed by firing squad for the rape of a Chinese woman.

Such regard for the rights of Indonesia's various minority populations and the necessity of inter-communal harmony has led the Colonel to become quite popular with the province's Chinese, Madurese, and Javanese, while at the same time retaining the respect of Dayak populations. Of course, the execution of four Indonesian soldiers did not sit well with the rest of the Yarmuk Regiment and the sultans, and, had the Strainist invasion not taken place, Abdurrahman would have likely been deposed in an army mutiny. Strange, reflects the Colonel, how things can work out like that.

So it is that the Indonesian commander stands in his command car, watching the Strainist advance guard reach the opposite side of the Landak through a pair of giant binoculars, the likes of which stand in for satellite feeds and UAVs in the Islamic Guard. The battle for Pontianak, it is obvious, has started.

"All units are in position, sir."
"Very good. Well, this is it, then. Make sure that every company knows to hold its fire until there are enemy soldiers in the river. This is imperative."
"Yes, sir."
"And make sure the Mortar teams wait as well. We cannot afford to lose all our artillery until they've been given a chance to do some damage. It is essential that we delay the enemy for as long as possible here, Major. I do not intend to give up the town easily."
"Of course, sir."

There are not many more than 3,000 Indonesian soldiers defending Pontianak, facing perhaps four times as many Strainists. Half of Abdurrahman's force consists of poorly-equipped and even more poorly-trained survivors from the Royal Pontianak Regiment, which lost about half its strength in the past days' fighting, and these troops are almost entirely foot infantry. The prospects do not look good. But the enemy does have to undertake an assault across a river, mined and obstructed by sunken barges and boats in many places.

If the soldiers on Indonesia's side are not exactly first-rate, they were at least employed to good effect in building defenses. Strainist officers looking across the Landak River will see the south bank almost lined with rifle pits, dotted with pillboxes and bunkers. Long coils of concertina wire line the riverbank as well, complimented by the occasional line of steel beams meant to channel amphibious vehicles into kill zones as they come out of the river. In truth, most of the defensive works along the riverbank are unoccupied. Abdurrahman had his troops dig far more defensive positions than they themselves could have used, in order to create a target-rich environment for enemy artillery and aircraft. Hopefully, the enemy will, in the course of their inevitable bombardment, hit mostly empty positions.

Likewise the island in the center of Pontianak, created by the dividing Landak and Kapuas rivers, is made out to be much less than what it actually is. From the north bank, there are not many visible defenses. The occasional trench, bunker, or sandbagged position on a rooftop is all that is in evidence. The better part of three Indonesian companies, almost 300 men all told, are in fact positioned on the island. Ordered to stay indoors or under cover until ordered out, they hope to escape detection by surveying Strainist commanders and airborne reconnaissance assets. At the right time, they will, if things go according to plan, rush out and catch any Strainists attempting to attack directly across the Landak in a withering crossfire. Of course, their flank is only held by a single company, by no means a difficult force to overcome.

Indonesians nervously sit in their positions, watching across the river with great anxiety as they make ready their weapons. Mortar gunners set their sights on positions on the opposite riverbank, the ends of roads that run perpendicular to the river, where the enemy will have to move its troops and vehicles. Abdurrahman does not expect the enemy to only attack directly across the river, but he deems his force insufficient to properly guard against a flanking attack against the city, and concentrates most of his battalions along the bank of the Landak in the city proper.

North of Pontianak, scattered patrols of Yarmuk Regiment troopers put up at least some resistance to Strainist movements. Doubtless mines and other obstacles force delays as well, but certainly there is nothing there that might cause the SRA's attack to lose momentum.

The first Indonesian soldiers to encounter Strainists on the wrong side of the river are Yarmuk Regiment infantrymen manning a roadblock west of Pontianak. Against enemy vehicles and footsoldiers, the 12-man section is well placed and well equipped, with two Ultimax LMGs and a MATADOR rocket launcher.

Trooper Abdul Rahid sits in his foxhole, daydreaming and watching the puffy monsoon clouds roll past against what would beautiful blue sky, if not for the dirty smudge of smoke rising out of Pontianak's burning tank farm. It is not much of a post, but it is infinitely better than being stationed in Pontianak proper. With most of the farmers away, having evacuated and left their waterlogged fields and paddies, the countryside is quiet and peaceful, except for the occasional sound of gunfire in the direction of the city. The sound of motors comes, therefore, as a surprise. Rousting himself immediately and grabbing his steel helmet, Trooper Rahid aims his M-16 down the road as his comrades do likewise, staying very low and waiting for what would seem likely to be a convoy of armored personnel carriers or amphibious tanks.

It is quite a shock when, from behind a grove of trees temporarily made an island by the monsoon rains, a group of Cholima hovercraft come barreling down along an irrigation channel. Rahid begins firing in the direction of the enemy craft as they pass his foxhole, and the Ultimax gunners bring their weapons to bear as well, while the sergeant in charge of the roadblock scrambles to the radio in order to inform Pontianak. But likely the roadblock, exposed as it was, had already been seen, and doubtless enemy ordnance is already on the way as the sergeant finds the right frequency and tries to report what he sees to Colonel Abdurrahman's headquarters.

Sulawesi

Palopo

The Eastern Column’s advance north has taken place along two different (parallel) routes, spread over a 25km-wide front, with forward scouting elements ranging between 50 and 100 kilometers ahead of the battalion serving as forward detachment, itself about that distance in front of the main body. Its scouts, warned by observation aircraft, are first to encounter the Indonesian defenders at Palopo, gauging their numbers and defenses as best is possible from a distance.

It is concluded that the defenders are at battalion strength, a fact reported back to the commander of the forward detachment. The numbers go in, the textbook answer comes out: a breakthrough of the enemy line must be achieved, on axis to continue pursuit of remaining enemy forces. Standard practice is for each unit to assault and eliminate a formation one level down, leaving the forward detachment (at battalion strength) in need of reinforcement from the main body. Once the battle is won, the participating units will cycle to the rear and a fresh battalion will take up the lead. The forward detachment also waits for the column’s artillery battalion to come within 40 kilometres of Palopo. Once they are in position for a bombardment, the attack proceeds.

Massed artillery bombardment is a key element of SRA operations. It is expected that a particular formation will concentrate its artillery fire on the target of an offensive, pinning the enemy down and hopefully leaving them disorganized while attacking troops traverse intervening terrain and enter into direct combat. Here, the artillery fire is at first dominated by standard high explosive warheads or those filled with blasting submunitions, falling on the town’s outer buildings and defensive emplacements sighted by scouts and aircraft. Later, as street-fighting progresses, the rate of fire will lessen as artillery units take up the role of fire support under direction of infantry commanders, and here they will employ tear gas along with more deadly munitions… use of gas will not be in the majority, but will likely be greater than usual for Strainist MRLs, though this may be a blessing in disguise for soldiers defending Palopo: the bulk of the Column’s fuel-air warheads have been transferred to the column in the West as it prepares for its own bombardment efforts.

As rocket fire begins to pelt Palopo, the forward detachment’s units approach to within a kilometer of the city and then dismount from their vehicles. Trucks will fall back to the safety of the column, while fighting vehicles advance alongside as fire support. Engineering elements, heavily reinforced due to the unit’s forward role, are set to clearing mines and barricades as shots begin to ring out through the streets. Strainist sharpshooters, at least one per platoon, are particularly adept at suppressing Indonesians taking shelter in buildings, though the defenders can cheer the destruction of several IFVs who stray into vulnerable positions. Now a normal sight in Indonesia, some buildings are shattered by counter-fire from Strainist troops armed with shoulder-launched thermobaric rockets, though such small-scale warheads do not bring the devastation seen elsewhere. The Indonesians can expect to suffer heavy losses, particularly after their first IFV kills, which see the Strainists respond by moving vehicles through areas already covered by snipers and launchers, in hope that the engine noise will lure Kalla’s men forward into ambush.
http://img528.imageshack.us/img528/1557/garudaurbanfightwi3.jpg

Parepare

The Western Column, building up its supplies of ordnance as it prepares to move against Polewali, has prepared itself to receive the Khandaq regiment. Even on the offensive, Strainist engineers often erect defensive works in case of turnaround or enemy flanking maneuvers, and the paused formation at Parepare is surrounded by a typical array of ‘deep defense’, a series of nests and posts fortified with earthworks and barbed wire in an arc north-east-south of the city, before melding with the less-thorough set of posts and patrols guarding the supply lines up from Makassar. These posts are not particularly firm in of themselves, containing only a squad, or perhaps a fire team with a heavy machine gun or light mortar, but they are not meant to hold a firm line… if they look to be overrun, they are to be evacuated, their occupants relocating to new positions further back, forcing an enemy to either pursue and face remaining positions along his flanks, or stop to deal with all points of resistance and thus sacrifice operational initiative. ‘Dummy sites’ are also constructed, in an attempt to deceive enemy scouts… these include a few ‘inflatable vehicles’, an odd sight up close but one which might deceive an enemy gunner at range and cause him to reveal his position with a wasted shot.

Behind these posts exist reserve elements for reinforcement of zones under attack… regular formations as well as an anti-tank reserve containing a high concentration of ATGMs and a few anti-tank guns. These will wait until an attack force is committed before responding as required.

Strainist soldiers are fond of night fighting, and enemy probes and scouting efforts will perhaps run into difficulty because of this… if nothing else, SRA units know to avoid light and noise, and have access to night-vision equipment. They are, however, not likely to engage in combat and thus betray their positions, so the Indonesians have little to fear unless they are particularly daring or attempt to haul NDL-40s about in the open with no cover but darkness.

Minahassa

The SRA’s WiG-borne assault is determined, but perhaps ill-prepared, intended to join the fighting at Balikpapan rather than move independently in an attack against enemy garrisons and irregulars. They lack vehicles and carry a higher-than-normal concentration of heavier weapons, factors which combine to slow them down somewhat. Two platoons of the battalion-strength force managed to obtain folding bicycles at the last minute, and to these fall the roles of scout and forward detachment… an ‘anti-tank reserve’ is created when these forward elements are forced to lighten their equipment loads, leaving one platoon where every member is hauling about some form of shoulder-launched ordnance. The Strainists are also left without the engineers that would normally be present in an attacking formation, and it is hoped that there will not be major minefields or damage to local bridges.

The WiGs themselves prove their usefulness, reaching shore and departing quickly underneath the gaze of enemy radar systems. However, Heaven seems to have no wish to give its servants reason for hubris, and not all of the ground-effect vehicles return home: the last in formation comes under fire from a shore battery. It is unlikely to ever be clear whether the vehicle was struck or its pilot misjudged his maneuver to avoid, but the result is the same regardless. The vehicle flips, seeming to bounce across the ocean’s surface as it rips apart, before its fragments sink to the bottom.

The AIM-9s of the F-14s over northern Sulawesi may not be wasted, however… four SRA Sukhoi fighter squadrons are rushing to the area. They are not optimized for aerial combat… so far from friendly airfields they must be cautious about fuel expenditure, and their hardpoints are loaded with heavy bombs that will eat away at the platform’s vaunted maneuverability. They will not be easy targets, however, not only due to the advantage of numbers: wingtip mountings carry IIR-guided missiles (not being capable of alternate loadings), and their AESA radar systems may see them detect the presence of F-14s long before they themselves are sighted by enemy radar.

Makassar

Well aware that their aircraft are currently forced to operate from bases on the other side of the Java Sea, construction efforts in Makassar soon turn to the city’s airport, in hopes it can be made ready in the coming weeks.

Surveyors and architects also travel about reviewing degradation to various buildings and the status of projects proposed under the FRB but never completed: while the Strainists saw no particular need for luxury condominiums such as those desired by Sulawesi’s Singaporean elite, plans for such complexes could be altered to produce the apartment blocks favoured by Party planners. Construction in the city would create employment, and attract outside interest in this newly-reopened port, hopefully bringing about a prosperous era and support for the Party amongst the populace.

Borneo

Tarakan

The Hawks will face no CAP over Tarakan… the diversion of aircraft to northern Sulawesi has left the nearby skies empty of Strainist aircraft, at least for now. What they will face are scattered groups of infantry engaged in scouting patrols, and perhaps if they fly low enough the occasional burst of heavy machine gun fire from a building where SRA soldiers have consolidated a defense in case of an Indonesian sally. There are not many targets to hit, all told, most SRA troops remaining in as much cover as can be found, but cluster bombs inflict substantial casualties on those caught out in the open. Fourteen casualties are suffered, and with limited medical capacity available it seems certain that all will become proper kills as their wounds overtake them.

Those fourteen men hail from the platoon tasked with forward detachment duty, and their loss bodes well for the Indonesians at Gunung Api… Commander Baneko takes advantage of No.107’s eventual departure to move his men forward deeper into Tarakan proper, assuming that a second bombing wave will be some time in coming, but views an assault on the ridge as too risky until he has secured his own air support.

Balikpapan

The fight for Sepinggan is likely one of the worst faced by Strainist soldiers since the Lyongese Revolution in 1950. Things which are expected during such attacks… preparatory bombardment by artillery assets, the commitment of fresh forces out-of-contact, even time to plan the attack or the option of waiting for nightfall are simply not available. The marines have nowhere to go but forward, into the enemy’s antiaircraft guns.

And they do, suffering predictably heavy casualties for it. A few light mortars or NDL-40s are present to spit out ‘counter-battery’ fire against enemy gun positions, but they are not numerous and sometimes difficult to maneuver into place while remaining under cover from enemy fire. Troops on the other side face similar disadvantages, but they are able to be somewhat more cautious, with the sea at their backs rather than the enemy, and so their attack is more effectively concentrated against vulnerabilities in enemy defences.

The Strainist fighter aircraft coming in over the city attempt to provide some support by disgorging their bomb loads over Indonesian troops attempting to move from the city towards Sepinggan, some resorting to strafing runs with their cannon once their loads are expended. Allowing themselves to be so distracted, they are informed of enemy helicopters inbound only when such craft are sighted by the infantry fighting in the vicinity of the airport.

Each of the squadron’s twelve fighters bears air-to-air missiles on its wingtips, those hardpoints incapable of mounting other weapons. One missile for each helicopter is simultaneously worrisome and wasteful: there is no room for error, but the missiles themselves (with TVC and advanced guidance) seem excessive overkill against the Indonesian Hueys. And, by the time the Strainist fighters are informed and maneuver into firing positions, some of the helicopters may have already emptied their contents onto Sepinggan.

Pontianak

The Cholima is not a fighting vehicle in the traditional sense… a hovercraft can hardly carry much in the way of heavy armour plating… but they are the result of Drapoel engineering and as such were built with the expectation of combat. Each carries two heavy machine guns of 14.5mm caliber, as well as SRA-added grenade launchers for smoke cover during landings. The latter are not employed, being more likely to help the enemy than the vehicle, but the former open up on the Indonesians as the Cholimas rush past.

Unfortunately, hovercraft are loud… very loud. They are surprisingly durable, despite lack of armour, but the Indonesians will have heard them some time before they came into view, and so the first Cholima to appear will have at least drawn the attention of Indonesian gunners, even if they are uncertain of just what is making the approach. The craft absorbs a good deal of fire to its front and flanks as it hurtles past, before pushing off to one side and sliding to a halt… hovercraft are heavy machines, and the commander of this one has no desire to stop up the route for those who follow, given the fact that the landing forces on Borneo as yet lack the heavy equipment needed to tow it out of the way, and hovercraft are not particularly suited to operating in reverse. He and his crew will have to secure their machine until it can be properly repaired, and perhaps a few of the forty soldiers on board will be free to continue towards Pontianak on foot.

As the seven other craft continue their speedy jaunt towards their target, with a few bullet holes and a more wary attitude to show for the encounter, the troops from the disabled vehicle detach the hovercraft’s heavy machine guns and prepare to engage the Indonesians manning the roadblock. The hovercraft is used as cover initially… the crew may not enjoy seeing their baby further riddled but the infantry see little reason to risk themselves to protect a device that is unlikely to see further service until the campaign in eastern Borneo is over and done with. The vehicle commander does take a moment to offer thanks and a spill of rice wine from a flask… the poor machine continues to serve even after being disabled, and is thus deserving of thanks.
An account of the men indicates two casualties… one crewman has taken an Ultimax round to the belly, while an infantryman is bleeding from shrapnel which has torn his upper arm. A sprained ankle disables a third infantryman to some extent, but he ought still be able to fight, if not advance.

Closer to the city, Strainist artillery pounds the opposite shoreline, though the Indonesians will have the satisfaction of knowing that Revolutionary commanders are forced to distribute fire rather evenly, losing much to empty nests and berms… there is likely not sufficient time to properly spot just which defenses actually contain enemy troops, and once soldiers go into the river no one wants to have left a line of unbroken wire or a sandbagged emplacement into which the enemy can rush a machine gun from reserve. The river itself also receives bombardment, in an effort to detonate mines and break up other obstacles before a crossing attempt is launched.

Halmahera

At close-quarters, Strainist technological superiority counts for less than it might at range, and casualties increase rapidly along with kills… given the comparative investment of resources between an SRA infantryman and one of the Sultan’s men, the battle may end up somewhat of a loss even if the enemy is wiped out completely.

Strainist soldiers are forced backwards, if slowly. Most believe that, as per SRA doctrines, fresh troops from out-of-contact will be deployed if only they can hold the beachhead… were they fully aware of developments elsewhere, such as the battle at Balikpapan, their confidence might be shaken.

Hindustani soldiers may perhaps have a more realistic perspective… Union troops seem to find themselves frequently fighting in small numbers against overwhelming odds, without expectation of much reinforcement or support. The Sultan of Jailolo might be a minor figure compared to the monarchs of Xiaguo and Nepal, but the situation is in many ways quite similar… though perhaps another showing by the Soviet Air Force is too much to hope for.

Still, though determined, the Unioners have been more resistant than their Strainist counterparts to accepting the field of battle chosen by their opponents… ammunition is still spent sparingly, fired from cover before falling back to avoid being inundated by charging Indonesian militiamen.

Mortar fire landing in the water around Strainist boats in the harbour causes a number of sailors to get very wet, if it doesn’t inflict fatalities. However, if luck gave the Strainist crews their lives, it was not so kind to their evacuation routes… a shell landing on one of the piers puts it out of commission, removing the option of the larger ships coming in to pick up evacuees directly. If they are to withdraw, the smaller boats will be vital ferries, and it is uncertain if they can carry everyone in a single trip.

Palopo

Contrary to its orders, the Indonesian battalion in Palopo begins to fall back in the face of the strong enemy assault. Indonesians do celebrate when the first enemy armored vehicles are blown up by MATADOR rockets, but many of the antitank hunter-killer teams that scored such kills are themselves eliminated in ambushes as they try to position themselves against further enemy tanks and IFVs.

Lead detachments are quick to abandon their positions as the firepower of Strainist thermobaric rocket launchers is demonstrated on other Indonesian strong points, and casualties amongst the forward most two Companies soon exceed 50%. Tear gas causes few if any deaths but great confusion, and Indonesians, often blinded by the gas, stumble out into the street, their unaffected comrades often trying frantically to lead the men towards cover.

Knowing full well that the battle for Palopo is already lost for Indonesia, the Major in charge of the defending forces decides that it would be best not to waste the lives of his men in costly urban fighting. The order goes out for a phased withdrawal, which rapidly turns into a mad dash into the hilly country to the northwest, and Indonesians manage to stay just barely ahead of the Strainists as the town is abandoned. Some surviving MATADOR and Ultimax teams remain behind to cover the rapid withdrawal and to set ambushes for advancing enemy troops, but, within a matter of a few hours, the battle is decided and Palopo falls to the Strainists. The battalion as a unit largely manages to escape, though two of its five companies are very nearly obliterated, and a third is flanked and captured when, after being particularly hard-hit by tear gas, it fails to abandon its positions in a timely fashion.

The two surviving companies, plus the headquarters unit, withdraws on foot into the more difficult terrain northwest of Palopo. A few infantry sections stay behind to set-up ambushes and fell trees across the road, but it is, as usual, nothing that is apt to cause much difficulty for the Strainists.

The rest of the Hunayn Regiment, however, is able to put more distance between itself and the Strainists as a result of the fight for Palopo, but the only result of this is to forestall the inevitable. It will take little short of a miracle for the Islamic Guard to win the conventional phase of the fighting against Strainist forces, and that is apparent across Indonesia.

Pare-Pare

The evening's fighting is scattered and of low-intensity, and, although Strainist troops usually get the better of the Indonesians, the Khandaq Regiment does not lose a great many men. Gunners and vehicle crews conduct themselves with more than the usual amount of caution during the night, furthermore, under strict orders from the Regimental commander to minimize light and noise. Several NDL-40 launchers and armored cars are lost to accidents as their crews fumble about in the darkness, attempting to get them into position, taking away even more of the Regiment's few armor and artillery assets, but, in general, things do not go as badly as they might have.

By daybreak, though, the Khandaq Regiment is ready to start something. Just as the sun starts to peek above the horizon, 15 NDL-40 rocket launchers point skyward. Next to the western column's artillery assets, the Khandaq Regiment's 70mm rocket launchers don't amount to very much, especially not after over half of the Regiment's NDL-40s were left behind or destroyed in the rush to engage the column advancing on Polewali. Still, armed with high-explosive rockets, they might yet do some damage. Sighted on targets identified by patrols during the night, the rockets leap out of their launch tubes in a move doubtless anticipated by the Strainists, but one that makes for quite a spectacle just the same.

Mortar teams, too, fire 60mm bombs on forward Strainist positions, fixing to clear paths for the infantry battalions waiting under cover. Light, relatively small-bore weapons, and not expertly crewed, the mortars aren't apt to do much damage, but perhaps they will serve to keep Strainist heads down and allow Indonesian troops to advance under less enemy fire than would otherwise be the case.

After a remarkably brief bombardment, the result of an acute lack of ammunition and a keen desire on the part of Indonesian gunners to get the hell out before the heat shows up, mortar teams fire smoke bombs into the Strainist "front line," the signal for Indonesian soldiers to advance. Officers blow their whistles and just shy of 2,500 men start moving against the Indonesian position. They cross the start line covered in all manner of foliage, carrying their M-16s often with fixed bayonets. Stealth is not the greatest of worries, as Indonesian officers urge their men on with shouts and the Khandaq Regiment rushes to battle yelling and hollering. About four Indonesian battalions begin their attack, one pair swinging to the southeast of Pare-Pare and the other headed west, in an effort to envelop the town and bypass what are thought to be its most focused defenses. Of course, Indonesians take some time to pick their way through the terrain, at the same time offering them plenty of cover and hampering their progress towards the enemy. By the time the battalions are past the swampy, low-lying terrain that sits just south of Sidewreng, quite likely the Strainists will have seen them and redeployed accordingly.

Attacking along the road from Sidewreng are some dozen Cadillac Gage armored cars, variously fitted with 12.7mm machine guns and TOW launchers, spearheading a fifth Indonesian battalion. By hitting the enemy head-on, it is hoped that attention may be drawn away from the main thrust of the attack. Lead armored cars make liberal use of their smoke grenade dischargers, partly to hide their own progress but also to draw attention away from what are supposed to be the flanking attacks. The fact remains, however, that the Khandaq Regiment only has a hazy picture of the layout of Strainist defenses and the deposition of enemy forces, numerically superior and better-equipped to begin with, so the attack is, in every way, fraught with risk and unlikely to succeed. The best the Indonesians can hope for is to reduce the enemy column's strength significantly, perhaps making a direct attack on Polewali inviable or at least buying some time for the Mecca Regiment to improve its defenses.

A single infantry company is sent directly west from Sidewreng, ordered to establish a roadblock along the road to Polewali, while another makes its way far to the south, meaning to establish itself behind the enemy force in Pare-Pare and, perhaps, interdict reinforcements and disrupt the lines of communication with Makassar. Walking over rough terrain and long distances, the company will probably take a long time to reach its destination, and, hopefully, it will not be interdicted before then.

Minahassa

Minahassa Force, the Indonesian garrison cobbled together from the various support and militia units and formed around a squadron of armored cars, does its best to resist Strainist regular troops landing on the Peninsula, while at the same time containing the Christian insurgency, which, by itself, may well throw Kalla's men out of the area if things keep up as they have. Roadblocks are established throughout the island, consisting of a few steel drums and militiamen with a BAR, while armored cars and regular-force troopers frantically counterattack enemy positions.

What the Strainists may lack in mobility, they surely make up for in terms of firepower. Besides the armored cars, the average Indonesian soldier has only his rifle and grenades, and support weapons are few and far between. Rocket launchers especially are quite scarce, and artillery, save for a few 20mm Oerlikon cannon, is non-existent. Still, Indonesians attack fiercely and, though the attacks are usually poorly-coordinated and betray a complete ignorance of enemy numbers and composition, they often have armored vehicles to back them up.

It is not long, however, before Christian irregulars threaten lines of communication, and the decision is made to pull back to a more defensible position. All forward units, regardless of any progress they might have made or successes they might have had, are ordered to break contact with the enemy and fall back to a semi-prepared defensive line being built around Gorontalo. Manado, the regional capital and site of the main airfield, is no longer safe for any of Kalla's men. The Christian majority there, seeing that liberation is very much on the horizon, is no longer inclined to suffer Indonesian soldiers and officials there.

Tarakan

Indonesian soldiers continue to dig in on Tarakan Island, very much conscious of the fact that they've got nowhere to go once their positions fall. On the other side of the Batagau Strait, some thirty militiamen prepare to join the regular army defenders, though, for the time being, they wait under cover along the forested shoreline for darkness. They are armed with a hodgepodge of weapons and don't have much ammunition or food, typical of the personal armies raised by Indonesia's sultans, but Tarakan's defenders will take whatever help they can get, that much is certain.

Balikpapan

For the Hueys flying-in reinforcements to the garrison at Sepinggan Airport, even if they had warning of incoming Strainist fighters long in advance it would have done no good. Pilots cringe as they spot enemy aircraft or, just as often, smoke trails, and there isn't much else to do besides land as quick as possible. Fortunately, for the low-flying helicopters, this is possible to do within a relatively short span of time. Seven cargo-carrying Hueys make it to the ground in time for their crews to escape, and one of the gunships manages to put some ground cover between it and the missile chasing it, but the rest of the 30 aircraft are destroyed along with their crews and cargo.

Sepinggan remains in Indonesian hands, if just barely, as troops begin to run out of bullets. 20mm fire is certainly intense, but Strainist marines may realize that, at least in front of them, there are fewer Indonesian infantrymen firing at them, and the chatter of light machine guns has all but ceased. Enemy artillery, though scattered, causes further casualties amongst the Indonesians, who have, for the most part, not had time to properly dig themselves in.

The Ridda Regiment and most of the Hira Regiment, together still amounting to around 6,000 men, plus a useful number of armored cars, continues to press the enemy. Fighting against Strainist marines, better-equipped and better-trained as they are, has proven quite costly, but the Indonesian regiments can, for the time being, afford it, where perhaps the enemy cannot. Spearheaded by Saladins in distinctive lizard camouflage, the counterattack struggles forward against heavy opposition, but spirits are high and, in spite of incoming enemy reinforcements, Indonesian commanders still feel that the Third Battle of Balikpapan is one that they can win. Two battalions, about a thousand men, break off from the main thrust of the attack and move to the northeast, making for the feature known to the Australians in 1945 as Gate Hill, a rise two miles to the north of Sepinggan Airport. By holding Gate Hill, the Indonesians hope to prevent the Strainists from going around Sepinggan, either in retreat or in their counterattack. After the hill is taken and held, the battalions have orders to press on and flank the enemy relief force advancing along the coast road. The terrain, however, is difficult, and no armored cars or rocket launchers accompany the force.

Pontianak

Troops manning the roadblock, having managed to put an enemy hovercraft out of action and having succeeded in reporting the enemy maneuver to headquarters, are in a more defiant mood than would otherwise be the case. Entrenched at the roadblock, the Indonesian section engages in a firefight with the hovercraft's crew and recently embarked troops, and a MATADOR rocket is fired in the direction of the disabled Cholima. In the greater battle of Pontianak the fight at the roadblock is an extremely minor concern for Colonel Abdurrahman, so the Indonesians can expect no reinforcements so far forward. Likely, then, the section will be overrun fairly quickly, quite possibly even by the hovercraft infantry, but, hopefully, not before causing the enemy at least some additional difficulty.

Back at his headquarters, Colonel Abdurrahman decides to commit his mobile reserve against what he interprets as the enemy's main flanking maneuver. Southwest of Pontianak, under the cover and the shade of a grove of roadside trees, fifteen armored cars, a mixture of Saladins, Saracens, and V-150s, start up their engines as infantrymen climb aboard. The column, led by two Saladins, sets out along the network of dirt roads and levies that crosses the farmland on the south bank of the Landak, meaning to intercept the enemy hovercraft. Lacking airborne assets and knowing only that the enemy did indeed pass a particular roadblock, actually finding and engaging the fastest-moving Strainist elements may prove problematic. The threat of friendly fire is also very real. Indonesians manning other roadblocks, on high alert and doubtless hearing a fair few motors running in the distance, may well take the armored column for an enemy force. But those are the risks inherent in operating with an under-trained, overstretched force equipped with few radios. If the Strainist hovercraft can be found and interdicted, things, Abdurrahman believes, may not go entirely the enemy's way.

In Pontianak proper, Strainist shelling and rocketry takes an expectedly heavy toll on the positions lining the south bank. Hastily-constructed concrete blockhouses and bunkers collapse and barbed wire entanglements are blasted apart, along with many of the other obstacles put in place by Pontianak's defenders. A fair few of Abdurrahman's soldiers are killed or wounded in the bombardment, as well, but most of them are safe, albeit quite shaken, thanks to their construction of so many dummy fortifications. Many of the mines floating or moored in the Landak River are detonated by enemy fire, and likewise mines placed on the opposite bank are, at least many of them, detonated prematurely. Colonel Abdurrahman monitors such developments with much apprehension and displeasure. Being unable to compete with the Strainists in terms of manpower and firepower, the Indonesians count very heavily on their static defenses to blunt the enemy advance. For any of the mines or barbed wire entanglements to be rendered useless before the battle even begins in earnest is a bad thing indeed. Unless Strainist troops are delayed in at least a few spots along the river, the enemy may well simply overwhelm the defenders in the town, significantly outnumbered as they are.

Palopo

The Strainist units who have secured the town halt to regroup and pursue enemy forces who remain in the area, while the remainder of the column pushes onward in pursuit of the Hunayn Regiment. There is much frustration… SRA doctrine prefers parallel pursuit, driving alongside and then ahead rather than coming from the rear, and the delay at Palopo (however slight in the grand scheme of things) seems to have denied them opportunity to accomplish their preferred tactic. If only a few more modern battle tanks had been brought across to Makassar, they might be able to risk an all-out rush, but the cost of such with the limited armour available would likely be high. So, the column pushes onward in hopes they might still catch Hunayn from behind.

Pare-Pare

The Strainist positions furthest forward suffer severely as dawn brings with it Indonesian shells and rockets… while their deep defence makes it difficult to catch the bulk of their line in a barrage (particularly one scouted from the ground), those units unfortunate enough to occupy the leading positions receive ordnance that might have been more thinly distributed along a straight-line defence.

Indonesian smoke and shouting sends the rattled survivors into a retreat back towards new positions closer to Pare-Pare itself… opposition is minimal as the Khandaq soldiers cross towards the SRA’s outermost foxholes. Once there, however, the next array of defensive positions opens up with its own NDL-40s and mortars, along with squad machine guns and sharpshooters. Where these points are present, fire will be significant, but defence-in-depth is not much for providing consistent fire, and Indonesian troops will be able to advance deeper here than there… both flanking the Strainists and being flanked themselves.

The buzz of helicopter UAVs is soon heard, the machines rising like children’s toys, cameras searching out enemy vehicles and concentrations so that reserves might be deployed accordingly. These are able to provide a general overview of Indonesian movements, though this early on matters remain unclear even with available intelligence. One thing that is for certain is the approach of armoured cars from Sidewreng, and against these moves the SRA’s anti-tank reserve. The 610mm RHAe penetration of their Type D201s is perhaps ludicrous overkill against Khandaq armoured cars, but the thermobaric alternative is held back so as not to unduly damage the road… and, though many Strainists may forget it in their overconfidence, one must actually HIT a target before superior penetration will come into play.

Reserve infantry are held back for the time being, until a clearer picture forms… they will be useful if an area’s defences falter, but more likely commanders hope that the Indonesians will be the first to slip up somewhere, allowing fresh troops to arrive out-of-contact in a counterattack that will allow envelopment of enemy concentrations. Artillery fire is also rather light, no one wanting to waste rockets meant for other targets.

Minahassa

As Strainist regulars pursue (at a painfully slow pace) the Indonesians retreating towards Gorontalo, those embedded amongst the Christian-majority populace encourage celebration of liberation from the yoke of Mohammed Kalla. Joyful people in the streets are documented, images transmitted out by Satellite, as are gut-wrenching scenes of Indonesian atrocities. The red flag with its golden cherry blossom is waved from Manadao as the SRA’s transport aircraft prepare to touch down with supplies, medics, and reinforcements. Yet, those who arrive in northern Sulawesi are predominantly from Tord, northern Sumatra, or Timor… themselves of Christian stock, and thus more likely to gain the trust of the locals than Javanese Muslims… and, perhaps, more likely to ignore the inevitable reprisals against the area’s pro-Kalla Muslims.

Tarakan

On Tarakan, a waiting game is played… securing the airfield would allow more reinforcements, but reinforcements are needed to ensure the airfield is taken. Thus, SRA troops here must wait for comrades to arrive by sea, and at present shipping is rather slow.
The Revolutionary Army, just prior to the start of hostilities, monopolized almost the entirety of Sujavan shipping for its war effort against Indonesia… but the economic costs of lengthy shipping diversion will be substantial if the monopoly persists for more than a day or two. As such, the Army is freeing ships as quickly as it is able, leaving more distant areas such as Tarakan to wait longer for assistance.

Balikpapan

Strainist moral, amongst the marines at Balikpapan, has been frayed thin, and may well be about to break despite their successes against Sepinggan. It is not SRA doctrine to abandon its men, but there exists a tendency to reward those who succeed rather than those who struggle… a tendency made worse by Lyongese cultural belief that death is an atonement for failure. As the Indonesians press in from the rear and hold at the front, some marines are driven to ‘banzai’ charges, emptying their magazines and pressing on with fixed bayonets… perhaps frightening, but certainly not effective against more level-headed opponents.

Somewhere in Lyong, an accounting officer frowns at the math… training for an SRA marine is not a cheap affair, and loss at Balikpapan will mean a substantial sum invested before the marine infantry can be properly replaced.

As Indonesian forces retreat in northern Sulawesi, increasing numbers of SRA fighters appear in the skies above Balikpapan, emptying their bomb loads and perhaps strafing exposed Indonesians before returning to their bases to re-arm. The SRA lacks bombers, an unfortunate deficiency in present circumstances, but as ground troops are unavailable it will be bombing from the air that saves the marines at Balikpapan… if they are saved at all. Each aircraft bears some 8,000 kilograms of bombs and rockets, a fresh squadron coming over the city every 45 minutes, at least until the need for maintenance and pilot wear keep the aircraft longer on the tarmac.

http://img55.imageshack.us/img55/5739/fighterprepai3.jpg

[OOC: Pontianak has made me dizzy… will post that once I’ve figured out just what it was the SRA had been planning, so we can proceed elsewhere in the interim].

Off Sumatra

The SS Katherine's Glance wasn't much to look at. Built in the early fifties in Sydney, she had once been a more-or-less respectable light freighter, chartered to the Collins-Dillonsby Freight Corp. In the intervening years, the Glance had changed hands several times, gathering new coats of paint, replacement hardware and slipshod repairs like so much detritus that clogged the world's great harbours. Her engine, once a late-model steamer design, was replaced in the 'seventies with a sort of gasoline powered monstrosity that belched acrid smoke and caused cancer in elderly crew members.

These crew members changed with the ownership of the vessel, and were oftentimes tramps themselves-- like their ship. They signed on for a voyage, picked up their pay and moved on to drink and whore in the seedier areas of Thailand, Burma, Vietnam or Lyong. White, black and yellow faces mixed freely, and at least threw languages could readily be heard slung around the mess. A sort of hodgepodge language developed amongst the crew, combining languages, gestures and influences from a score of cultures.

In 2006, the Glance showed her age. She was rusted, slow and smelly, and her crew were disreputable drunkards. Her ownership was somewhat unclear, and the captain, one Felix Daggett, hailed from some obscure port-town of Australasia. His ship flew a Vietnamese flag and had a dozen more in storage. Sometime in the intervening years, a clever engineer had placed a false bottom in the Glance, giving a disreputable master the ability to smuggle particularly exotic or contraband goods with impunity.

Daggett's current cargo was just that. Crate after crate of food aid, branded with the stamp 'Product of Socialist Labour', rested in the hold. The crates were genuine, purchased at great expense by a man who preferred not to reveal his name. Beneath them, in the false hold, was the real cargo. AK-47s, RPG-7s, MP-5s and a variety of grenades were packed in crates.

The Glance's job was to land on the Sumatran coast, meet a group of loosely organized terrorists supportive of the Kalla government, and deliver the crates of weapons as well as the food to them.

Vietnam, Ho Chi Minh City

Horatio smiled thinly and tugged his turtleneck higher on his throat. IMB business concluded, he made his way back into the Vietnamese slums, and thence to the airport.

(OCC: I finished that last post with regards to Pontianak.)

North of Palopo

The Hunayn Regiment retreats along the coast road headed north as fast as possible, quickly devolving from a relatively well-organized column to a stream of soldiers and vehicles, the quicker ones at the front and the slower ones and unfortunate foot infantry struggling along some ways behind. Strainist scouts may well run into some of these troops, perhaps as the Indonesians take a rest from marching or repair commandeered civilian vehicles. The Regiment remains largely intact, however, at least as an administrative unit, and in spite of its losses in the south and the near-obliteration of the battalion in Palopo, it can still call upon some four full battalions, five to seven hundred men each, plus another ad hoc battalion composed of single companies or platoons that managed to escape the fates of their parent units.

Still not enough to allow for any reasonable hope of success against the enemy's eastern column, but enough, perhaps, to fight a moderately useful delaying action at the head of the southeast peninsula.

Pare-Pare

Strainist artillery fire causes the Indonesian attack to lose momentum as men look for cover and wait for their own mortars to lay down another smoke screen, albeit a small one. The Khandaq Regiment's NDL-40s spit out counter-battery fire, though the enemy column's proper artillery assets have yet to be located or heard from, and likely those would make a mess of the handful of Indonesian rocket launchers.

The bulk of the infantry quickly becomes hung-up on enemy strong-points, and the Indonesians, being relatively lightly-equipped and minimally supported by artillery or aircraft, have a very tough time against any substantial Strainist emplacements. MATADOR rocket launchers, one of a few highly useful and modern weapons systems carried by the Indonesian foot soldier, are used liberally to blast away at enemy machine gunners and, when troops are able to get close enough, mortar teams and NDL-40s. A consequence of such unrestrained use against outer enemy defenses is that there will be very few rockets left amongst the advancing Indonesians for use in the later stages of the battle, so, hopefully, the terrain will prevent the enemy from bringing much in the way of armored vehicles to bear.

On the road towards Pare-Pare, the Indonesian armored cars struggle against Strainist infantry and their anti-tank missiles. Indeed, a heavy machine gun would likely be able to penetrate the armor of a Khandaq V-150. Those vehicles unlucky enough to be hit by a D201 are blown open, and seven Indonesian armored cars are destroyed completely within moments, before the column even has a chance to abandon the road. Infantry, who wasted no time in debussing after seeing the lead V-150 hit by an enemy missile, advance parallel to the main road as the V-150s and Saracens hang back, providing occasional covering fire and on hand to fire TOW missiles against concentrations of Strainist troops or enemy armored vehicles. But armored car crews are more often than not quite reluctant, and stick to cover or withdraw back out of range. It is up to the infantry alone, mainly, to clear the road of enemy anti-tank crews and to press forward. A pair of M-40 recoilless rifles are brought forward and those begin to fire on enemy troops, but fear of enemy missiles keeps them back out of direct fire range as well, seriously hampering accuracy and forcing gun crews to deal with a situation for which they've had almost no training.

Another Indonesian battalion, initially held-back in Sidewreng, is committed to the battle after the devastation of the mobile column becomes apparent. It attempts to swing around Pare-Pare, following an old logging track, and in so doing cut the road to the town. Again, though, the terrain prevents much in the way of vehicles or artillery following the battalion, so it marches cross-country with only what Indonesian footsoldiers can carry on their backs. If things go according to plan, the Khandaq Regiment should push the Strainists in Pare-Pare into the sea, but even before the attack began such a victory could not have been seen, by any sane person, as at all likely. Indeed, not much more than an hour old, the attack is already beginning to stall. Indonesians can, however, try their best to reduce the enemy's western column as much as possible, perhaps lowering Strainist morale or postponing enemy preparations for an attack against the more heavily fortified and better-supported position at Polewali.

Minahassa

Islamic Guard and militia units, pressured both by Strainist regular troops and Minahassan guerrillas, are quite eager to quit the countryside and retreat to Gorontalo as fast as possible. Barricades and sandbagged emplacements are built on the city's outskirts as the Indonesians there ready themselves for what seems like an inevitable enemy attack on their position.

Balikpapan

The situation at Sepinggan Airport becomes desperate, though, strangely enough, the only weapons that have a steady and sufficient supply of ammunition are the six Oerlikon 20mm cannon, which have now become the cornerstone of the airport's defense. Most Indonesians are down to their last clip, and a fair few soldiers scurry across the airport, looking for their dead comrades whose M-16s may still be operable and loaded, and who may have some unspent clips in their web gear. When enemy marines resort to bayonet charges against Indonesian troops, it is much to the consternation of the average infantrymen, who often feels compelled to empty his clip full-auto against onrushing Strainists, against orders to the contrary. Men at the Oerlikon cannons, though, are generally level-headed and capable, and they deal with such actions quickly.

But the problem at Sepinggan remains that the troops there did not have enough time to properly entrench themselves, or, when they had the time, they did not use it. Many of the Indonesian positions are quite exposed to artillery fire and aerial bombardment, so enemy fighter-bombers will find it easy to cause great losses amongst their targets. Casualties, alarmingly, exceed 50%, and if the Strainist marine landing force goes down in the battle, it will at least take the defenders at Sepinggan Airport with it, that much is fairly certain.

Indonesian troops engaged in the business of chasing marines from Balikpapan initially slacken their pace, perhaps buying the enemy some more time and doubtless giving the marines a little time to rest as their pursuers rush for cover. Commanders, however, are quick to order their men up and back to work. It is vital, they say, to get as close as possible to the enemy force, since Strainist fighters will have a tough time distinguishing friendly troops from hostile ones. Though this alone is not a very good reason, since there are a lot more Indonesian troops than Strainist troops in the battle, there still exists, after battle losses, some 34 Stinger teams in the Balikpapan brigade force, enough to make low-level flying extremely risky. Still, losses from aerial bombardment are noticeable, and a further four armored cars are lost, bringing the total down to 15 vehicles from almost 40 starting out. The force sent out to take Gate hill, and in so doing flank the Strainist relief force, is also delayed by the bombardment, and loses some thirty men when a pair of trucks are destroyed by an enemy bomb.

Halmahera

The battle for Galela, terribly bloody though it has been, continues to disappoint the Sultan of Jailolo. His troops made significant gains early on, that much must be said, and, for a while, it appeared as though the attack on Galela town would yield success. But now that does not look so likely. Indonesian militiamen have attacked and attacked but they have failed to advance, or, where they have advanced, failed to hold the ground taken. Casualties, amongst Jailolo's force, are horrendous, to the point where a determined push by Strainist and Hindustani soldiers would probably succeed in re-taking the town. Enemy losses are doubtless quite heavy as well, and that Jailolo can be proud of, but the exchange is far from equal, and the poorly-trained, ill-equipped militiamen take losses at a far higher rate than their opponents.

To the Sultan of Jailolo, the choice is clear. He can either stay and fight it out until his regency force, at least the two thirds of it he brought with him, is obliterated, or he could cut his losses and return to home territory. Sure enough, bugle calls sound from the hills and Indonesian troops, slowly but surely, disengage and return to their rally points, at least when such is possible. At Jailolo itself, there are still some 900 men at arms, and with these the Sultan hopes to create for himself a suitable negotiating position. News of enemy landings elsewhere on Halmahera, such as at the Kao airstrip, does not reach the Sultan, however, and as troops on Ternate, Tidore, Bacan, and Obi dig in and await the enemy invasion, Jailolo has his depleted force spread across the better part of Halmahera.

Ceram

Some fifteen hundred survivors of Ambon's garrison, chased off the island by Strainist and Hindustani marines, now find themselves on Ceram, just north of Ambon. With enemy interest occupied elsewhere, namely Halmahera, the continued presence on Ceram Island of a significant Indonesian force will, hopefully, go unnoticed. Troops start on machine gun emplacements as a military presence is established in all the major villages, lest enemy commandos or advisers arrive in an attempt to subvert the island's residents. The situation is similar to that on Morotai, Buru, and Misool, places which seem to have escaped Strainist attention due to their relatively small strategic value but places where there still exists an Indonesian military presence.

The war is just days old, but indiscipline amongst island garrisons is hardly as new. With central authority now more distant than ever, soldiers run their islands as they see fit, at least until someone comes along and forces them to do otherwise. Morotai and Buru, for instance, are declared independent, awaiting international recognition. It is a free for all in much of the Malukus, and inter-ethnic fighting re-ignites as well in some places, made all the more intense by the absence, or sometimes the involvement, of security forces.

Pontianak

http://img232.imageshack.us/img232/2876/pontianakbattlefirststaca3.jpg

[OOC: A rather crude mapping effort, above, depicting my perception of how things are/will be going, mostly so you can point out any horrible misunderstandings before someone orders a charge on a non-existent enemy position.
Err, also, apologies as to inconsistent posting quality… this was assembled bit-by-bit over several days].

Cholimas are fast machines, and though Indo nesian pursuers might track them by the outpouring of noise from their engines, the Strainist pilots could likely maintain their lead for some time. At least, that would be the case under optimal circumstances… but the SRA’s hovercraft are now attempting to push up along what amounts to a large irrigation ditch, aware that the enemy knows of their presence, neither of which keep them moving quickly. Soon, one of the contingent’s helicopter UAVs sends back worrying images of Alvis vehicles moving on the roads nearby. Not wanting to risk losing more Cholimas, the order to dismount is given and forces are dispersed out from the eastern bank of the channel, hoping to intercept the Indonesian vehicles with ATGMs (of which the Strainists have a substantial number).

One hovercraft, though, is already lost… the MATADOR is a lightweight in the anti-tank field, but the Cholima is hardly an MBT, and the Indonesians will doubtless derive some satisfaction from the sight of the machine burning and deflating quickly after the rocket’s impact.

The Cholima’s guns remain active, albeit detached from their former mountings. Soldiers of the CPRD were to haul the heavy machine guns along after landings in the south, and the SRA readily adopted the procedure when it acquired the design. To the superstitious Lyongese amongst the craft’s former passengers, the guns will likely serve well in the ongoing firefight, children driven by a thirst for vengeance against those who felled their ‘mother’. At the very least, bursts of 14.5mm fire in the direction of the offending MATADOR launcher will keep some heads down while the Strainists prepare a flanking maneuver.

Pare-Pare

An hour into the battle, the first rockets from the Western Column’s main artillery contingent take to the air. It is a rather poor showing, given the sheer quantity of ordnance available, but most artillery commanders have little desire to waste away their stockpiles on a diversion, when the main event is so close at hand. Artillery fire is generally directed towards the Indonesians attacking along the road, Strainist infantry providing direction to strike enemy equipment which hangs back away from their D201s. The infantry themselves engage in firefights with their Indonesian counterparts, and their anti-tank specialization sees many waste ATGMs firing on enemy foot troops… the submachine gun configuration of their rifles reducing their effective range below that of Indonesian M16s or SAR-80s.

Halmahera

As the Sultan’s men withdraw, tired silence descends over Galela. The battle can hardly be called a victory with so many dead or dying in the streets, though all the SRA’s objectives here were reached. In the coming hours, the survivors will gather the wounded, before being carried home by ship after fresh blood is brought in to cement the Revolution’s hold on the port.

If one thing has come out of the battle, it may be a stronger bond between the soldiers of the SRA and their comrades from the Indian National Union. Perhaps in a generation, when the men who fought here have risen up the Party ranks, will come a day when Strainists might not find it quite so easy to switch Meteor seekers with concrete ballast in Mumbai while Hindustanis die for Strainist aims in Indonesia.

Kao is home to a far different scene… one of excitement. Its airstrip sees constant traffic, as the Revolutionary Army rushes to put more boots on the ground, albeit without heavier pieces of equipment.

Malukus

Many in the SRA think it unfortunate that Kalla’s ouster did not leave his former holdings ready to form ordered rows and declare their surrenders. The Party’s plan for victory in Indonesia was ambitious, though not as ambitious as some (smaller France leaping into larger-and-more-distant Africa, for one), but there are limits on how many places one may advance, how many targets can be bombed. Many islands of the Malukus were simply not of sufficient import to merit inclusion in the main thrust, and would be left to stew until success elsewhere had been secured.

Strainist propaganda and Strainist jamming may blunt somewhat the cries rising from the Malukus towards the international community, but even if they do not, the net is closed… let them yell and let them squabble, it is only a matter of time before the Party reaches out to pull them into its embrace.

Jakarta

“… we can have twenty squadrons there within the hour, to cover the landings. A few days to rest and then we can switch them back over to finish the job on Sulawesi…”

“Thank you, comrade Jusuf, but no.”

The mess hall of the SRA’s Jakarta headquarters was almost empty, none of its few occupants in high spirits. Victory might be on the horizon, but it had come at a cost none had expected.

“But the men, General Rosh, your grandson…”

“They are soldiers of the Revolution, the same as you or I. We all know our duty and are ready to make what sacrifices we must. Now go… you must keep an eye on the reports from Sumatra.”

Left alone with his thoughts, Ket Rosh could not help but stare down at the map spread on the table before him… Balikpapan, the place where Indonesia had cut down the true spirit of the Strainist Party, without even knowing it.

Rosh had been a warrior all his life, and a Strainist for most of it. He still wore the thick beard common to men of Lyong’s mountain villages, who had fought against local warlords since the fall of the August Empire. That fight had pulled them into the Strainist fold as Lyong underwent its Revolution, and though he was not a founding member Rosh had proven to be its pre-eminent tactician, securing a place on the Central Committee as the voice of the Revolutionary Army which he still held over a half-century later. In the days of the Cold War, he had been seen as a hardliner by most Western analysts, next to more amenable Joshi Fiyatamo or diplomatic Reiden Harsk, and he had to admit there was some truth to that… he was the senior figure in what some might term the Party’s ‘left wing’, and had been quite vocal in his condemnation of the ‘right-roader bureaucrats’ who had risen to prominence in the Party during the 1980s. ‘Prosperity’ and ‘Peaceful Co-Existence’ were distractions from the Revolutionary cause, which fought a constant battle both within and without to tear down the old feudal order and bring about a new world of universal equality.

The rebirth of imperial belligerence had caused the Party’s leftists to rise back to prominence not held since trade with the West had started filling Lyongese purses… war in Indonesia and closer support of the Indian Soviets were a result of such a rise, necessary steps in getting the Revolution back on track for the inevitable confrontation between socialist and capitalist systems. But Balikpapan might well bring it all to an end.

It had been a brilliant plan… the elite of the Revolutionary Army appearing where no one would expect them to be, seizing the heart of Borneo’s petroleum industry and opening the port to troops who would spread north and south to liberate what remained of Kalla’s Kalimantan. A number of his supporters had led the planning, and many promising officers (including his grandson) stood in command of the troops involved. When the smoke cleared and blame was distributed, the Party’s right-roaders would have ample ammunition to oust their leftist rivals.

Rosh knew he could still salvage the battle at Balikpapan, could divert aircraft and troops from operations elsewhere towards the beleaguered fighters around Sepinggan… but such a choice would doubtless be portrayed by his foes as favouritism, violating SRA doctrine of bolstering success and sacrificing lives just to save his own relatives and supporters, an action of the very sort he had argued so loudly against in his attacks on feudal remnants. And they would be right. No, to a man who did not believe in ‘middle ground’, that option was closed. The men at Balikpapan would redeem themselves or fall on their own merit, without outside aid.

If Fiyatamo could not jeer him as a corrupt factionalist when the Central Committee next met, he would certainly accuse him of being incompetent and wasteful… Rosh himself would likely keep his posts, but many who served under him would see their careers cut short, replaced by lengthy terms of reeducation-through-labour. That could not be allowed… in the end, regardless of his dislike for rank and power relations, Rosh knew he alone held responsibility, and he ought take the blows that might otherwise fall upon his comrades.

Rosh looked to one side, where his sword and pistol rested on a chair. The blade was hardly a famed piece… his family had no noble pedigree, and the blade had been machine-forged in 1950 rather than passed down through generations. He had never really been fond of the thing, wearing it only to please the Chairman, and was not about to adopt feudal traditions when he made the final sacrifice. The pistol held far more personal meaning. It was a Webley revolver of Roycelandian manufacture, stamped with the mark of the arsenal in Port Arthur (one sign, of many, pointing to its age). It had been held by a warlord officer, in the days when colonialist sponsors maintained pet generalissimos in Lyong… its owner had met his unfortunate end impaled on a bamboo spear as he led a mob of ‘tax collectors’ looting the villages of the Yaman mountains, and Rosh had claimed it as his own. The weapon had claimed many victims fighting first for village and then for Party, before decades spent resting and in practice against paper targets. It had one more job to do for him, and after it could find a new companion who might show it better use.

A thought came to Rosh, and he could not help but laugh at it… he was fortunate indeed that it had been Port Royal sponsoring his local warlords and not Tokyo: suicide would be a drawn out affair indeed if one tried it with a Baby Nambu.

Suicide for failure, suicide to make a point… these too were Lyongese traditions, but Rosh found strange comfort in them. They were not feudal, but instead somewhat liberating, a way to give one’s life a value that bypassed social strata to reach the core of a matter. Or, perhaps he was deluding himself… in any event, it would have the desired effect. His comrades would be protected, and the Chairman would notice.

The Chairman… Rosh could still remember the day he had first met the man who had set the Revolution in motion. Comrade Shiwen then had been at his height, haggard and dirty perhaps from time on the march but confident that he knew had to fix what was wrong with the world. It was that confidence, more than any feudal pedigree or Party rank, which had won him Rosh’s support. But the years had not been kind to Comrade Shiwen, first bringing on the caution that is the inevitable result of accumulated experience and then, more recently, the true infirmities of age. The Chairman today was perhaps most like the child he was before Rosh had ever known him, the weight of a thousand ancestors pushing him to set things right with no idea of how it might be done, staring at the sky in desperate hope for guidance from mythic phantoms. Rosh had thought he might live on when Shiwen passed, or at least outlast the serpent Fiyatamo who muttered feudal lies into the Chairman’s ear. He was sure that the Party’s leader would want the movement he began set back on proper course, if only he had full use of his faculties… but he did not. That was a risk… if Rosh were gone, who would be there to counter Fiyatamo’s influence over the Chairman? He would be replaced by another Revolutionary soldier, and certainly one who shared his views, but Comrade Shiwen would no more listen to that new face than he would Gemaputra or Wahid… they were unfamiliar and had not earned his trust, had not been with him since those early days. Harsk? The man was everybody’s friend, hardly one to stand firm in conflict. Hei? He cared more for the Chairman’s peace of mind than for the Revolution, and could not be relied upon to preserve Comrade Shiwen’s true vision if it caused Shiwen’s current shadow pain. They were good men, in their own fashion, but ill-suited to provide counterweight to Fiyatamo’s heavy right-road influence.

A Webley had six cylinders… perhaps there was another task it could perform before its job was through. There was much work to be done.

Pontianak

(OCC: No problem...far better than I could have done, that much is for sure. I can't complain about post structure either. I can't remember the last time I've finished anything substantial in one sitting. Eh, I'll be gone for the next week, so here's something brief as a placeholder for a more involved post when I get back.)

Sitting on the top of his turret with microphone and radio headset, the commander of the lead Saladin is the first to spot the halted Cholimas, and he calls out the enemy's position before sliding back down into the armored car, which promptly brings its 76mm main gun to bear. But just as the Cholima is no MBT, the Saladin, though it might sport a fairly impressive gun, is certainly no tank either, and an enemy missile rips through its thin armor before it can do much of anything. The second Saladin is destroyed similarly, but not before the crew bails out, and after seeing the lead two vehicles destroyed, the infantry companies on board the following ten Saracens and three V-150s are quick to get out.

Four of the Saracens try to edge their way around the burning Saladins, while the remainder of the formation reverses and tries to get off the raised and highly exposed road. All the while the Indonesian armored cars put out a respectable volume of suppressive fire with their turreted Brownings and ring-mounted Ultimax in the general direction of the Strainists. Hopefully it will keep heads down and prevent ATGW teams from being able to deploy their particularly worrisome weapons while infantrymen move up. Out of a company's worth of infantrymen, two rifle platoons and the heavy weapons platoon more or less stay put, attempting to hold the enemy's attention, while the remaining platoon attempts to swing around the Strainist infantry and hit them from the rear. This force sets off across the fields and paddies, and aims for a bridge several kilometers to the north. Here, they plan to cross the channel and proceed along down the other side. Hopefully, the Strainists will not have gotten there or realized its existence for another hour or so.

14.5mm machine gun fire, of course, causes Indonesian armored cars a great deal of trouble, their armor really being too thin to guard against such a caliber. Fortunately for the men inside the Saladins and Commandos, often the rounds go in one side and out the other, rather than bouncing around inside the vehicles, but this is hardly always the case. Machine gun fire from both the armored cars and the disembarked infantry, whose heavy weapons platoon includes a few FN-MAGs and 60mm mortars besides the usual section-level MATADORs, is intense, but it is not quite enough to suppress the enemy's heavier guns. Slowly, but steadily, the armored cars inch backwards, keen to get out of enemy machine gun and missile range or under cover, and a further two Saracens are lost, either riddled with heavy caliber MG fire or blown up with an anti-tank missile, within the next few minutes.

Pare-Pare

The Khandaq Regiment meets with little success in its struggle against the Strainist position at Pare-Pare. Though the regiment hasn't yet been forced back, it has mostly ceased advancing, and that before really engaging the bulk of the enemy force. Strainist artillery causes further delays in the push up the road towards Pare-Pare, and another four armored cars are destroyed in the bombardment, prompting the last four to pull back even further, almost to the start line, and therefore leaving the companies attacking along the road without armor support. Between Strainist artillery and D201s used in the anti-personnel role, the Indonesians take a fair few casualties, but as of yet the field commander sees no reason to retreat. Resistance, at least so far, has never been so stiff that it could not be overcome, but this could well change in the next hundred meters, for all the Indonesians know.

Aceh

http://img181.imageshack.us/img181/7492/acehsiegebeginnv8.jpg

Banda Aceh was under siege, of that there could be little doubt… the Strainist noose might still not have been tightened, but the city had been encircled, and ships could be spotted on the horizon from the beaches at Sumatra’s northern tip. The operation was day or two behind optimal schedule it might be, but no cause for alarm… scattered irregulars might have been left behind during the blitzkrieg, holes in monitoring and patrol existed here and there along the coast, but they would be closed off in time as the Revolutionary Army and the newly-deploying militiamen of the People’s Liberation Volunteers secured the liberation of Aceh and brought about freedom from feudalism and an ordered base for growth.

Reconnaissance efforts around the city will, it is hoped, allow accurate targeting of weaponry once the time for battle arrives… the SRA has been issued with strict restrictions by the Party’s Quranic Advisory Committee, warning them against employing tactics which might damage the city’s famed Grand Mosque, or the port and airfield which served as ‘gateway to Mecca’ for generations of Bonstock’s Muslims. Though not an outright ban such as those issued by the Central Committee, even the oft-secular SRA is unlikely to defy the Party’s ulema.

Pare-Pare

While a deep defence such as that the Strainists practice is not easy to break, it has something of a downside. Just as it leeches momentum from an enemy advance through lack of motivating objectives, so too does it fail to present a proper wall against which the attacker’s hopes can be dashed. To an impartial observer, the Indonesian attack might seem foolish, but to soldiers on the ground things will look far less certain, and reason to cease fighting is far harder to come by. It will come down to other factors to tip the psychological balance.

Where the artillery units at Pare Pare might see the present battle as a sideshow, the Western Column’s armoured contingent is almost chomping at the bit to see some action… what use will tanks be during a rocket barrage, or the rubble-strewn skirmishing that will follow? It is thus that the Column’s Type T55s start to move out, perhaps earlier than might be wise.

The tanks are hardly cutting-edge, their Russian-designed profiles altered by the odd spaced armour added when the Sino-Soviet split and China’s internal troubles left Lyong unable to acquire more modern replacements…. able to resist strikes from systems such as the Milan, it will likely not fare as well against the MATADOR, save as a supplement to ERA. 105mm guns too are outdated, not much of a danger to the front face of modern MBTs without use of gun-fired ATGMs, but without their Leopards it is thought that the Islamic Guard’s infantry and lighter vehicles will be sufficiently vulnerable.

The Western Column has only some thirty T55s all told, hardly enough to turn the tide of the Sulawesi campaign, but perhaps sufficient to pressure the enemy in this, a smaller engagement.

Pontianak

Two ATGMs to a squad, and almost four squads to a hovercraft, leaves an array of missiles in Strainist hands. They are not, perhaps, as liberal as they could be if at the end of proper supply lines, but they are certainly not overly restrained… three proper anti-tank rounds and two thermobaric await each gun, and while the latter might be more useful in an urban environment they are not considered wasted here, joining 14.5mm machinegun fire when vehicles do not present proper profiles for attack.

Closer to the city, the SRA flanking detachment pushes over the Landak and on towards the bridges which span both that flow and the Kapuas. As they approach from the east, SRA elements on the northern bank shift some of their fire towards buildings and obvious defenses around those bridges… those on either side of the Kapuas bridge face tube artillery, while those to the south of the Landak crossing are subject to fire from mortars. It is not a devastating barrage, seeking to leave the bridges themselves intact and uncertain as to enemy location, intended more to scatter than to obliterate. Infantry and Type T63 tanks follow quickly after, pushing from the south against the Landak bridge, while from the east a trio of T63s outpace their escorts as they make a mad dash to cross the Kapuas bridge before Indonesians on the other side can bring artillery to bear on the structure itself. The defender’s decision to remain concealed in the area may well pay off… the attackers have been left with little idea as to their strength or location, with a plan that leaves little time to figure out such details before battle is joined.

Rocket artillery continues its barrage from northern bank to south, as infantry prepare themselves for a crossing once the progress of flanking forces in the east and southwest becomes known.

Medan

Leftenant Tosho Chieng did not like the men drilling in the courtyard below. They were energetic enough, to be sure, but they did not look like soldiers of the Revolution. The ‘People’s Liberation Volunteers’, or whatever title the new militia had been given, contained a motley assortment of men from the crowded communities of Java and Bali, hoping to take advantage of newly-reopened agricultural lands, closed to them since the fall of the FRB and the end of Singapore’s forced transmigration programs. While many spoke of them as self-sacrificing youths, filled with ‘Revolutionary vigour and a pioneering spirit’, more likely they were those ‘volunteered’ by their home collectives, the ones whose comrades had jumped at any opportunity to be rid of them.

Their officers were in some ways worse: a need for trained NCOs had given jobs to a number of former Federal Army soldiers… soldiers whose absence from SRA ranks pointed to ideological deficiencies. These men had experienced active operations, policing and counterinsurgency, as part of Singapore’s garrisons in Aceh or Borneo, knew the terrain, the hazards, and some of the politics… but they seemed a little too quick to pat their rifles when discussing likely Acehnese or Dayak resistance, a little too certain that empty homesteads aplenty stood just waiting for their men to settle in.

Chieng knew that there was politics at play. The Liberation Volunteers were the brainchild of Sunabaya Sandi, and Sandi was Jochi Fiyatamo’s man.

The Fourth Front Army under General Sandi had seen a concentration of rightist officers in the traditionally left-wing SRA, though they were hardly a majority… Chieng’s own transfer to Medan’s propaganda desk was proof of that. Most officers in the 4th Front thought the problem a temporary one, resulting from the incorporation of ex-FRB elements, which would be overcome through education and progress after a decade or so. One could only hope that the of dedicated Revolutionary soldiers would mitigate the excesses of the rightists until that time arrived.

The men below were being issued weapons and equipment from SRA stockpiles… Lyongese-designed badges and khaki fatigues might differ from the olive drab of FRB days, but M1 helmets and M16s left them with the disturbing profile of Federal Army soldiers.

Chieng looked to his desk, where a computer screen displayed a half-finished correspondent’s report… the Revolutionary Army had yet to declare northern Sumatra safe for civilian media, and so he had been ordered to provide press releases and articles, speaking of ‘eager volunteers’ and ‘celebrations of victory’, both of which were easily found. But, a soldier of the Revolution had responsibilities greater than mere obedience to orders… perhaps uncomfortable truth might do far more to push out the Fourth Front rightists than mere passage of time.

http://img505.imageshack.us/img505/9499/chiengatwindowzp4.jpg

Aceh

(OCC: Hmm... I'll try to get a proper order of battle up for the Achenese troops around Banda Aceh soon, taking into account the losses incurred since the start of the war. I went out and bought myself a proper, up-to-date map of Indonesia, though...which looks to have been a pretty bad idea, all the mistakes of mine it has exposed between then and now.)

Indeed, the campaign in Aceh, though bitterly contested, was more or less decided from the start, and, unless Sultan Mansur's men are able to pull-off anything spectacular, the siege of Banda Aceh will simply count as the final chapter in the conventional stage of fighting for Sumatra's northwestern tip, and another hard-won victory for the Strainist Revolutionary Army. Hard-won because Mansur, the Sultan's Guard in particular, have no intention of making at all easy for the enemy to take the capital, and many wildly optimistic officers even hold out hope that, should enough casualties be inflicted upon the Aceh Liberation Group, the authorities in Jakarta might just think twice about their strategy and call the whole thing off.

Judging solely by the defenses protecting Banda Aceh, Guards officers might be forgiven for believing such things. Mansur dumped no small amount of money into his Capital Stop Line, and it certainly shows. Dozens of miles of concertina wire surround the capital, marking the outer extent of the fortifications. Between the wire and the first dragon's teeth obstacles is a flat, barren strip of land, about 500 meters wide at maximum, but more like 150 meters in most places, sewn with mines and swept by machine guns and mortars. Behind the dragon's teeth and steel caltrops is the first line of infantry positions, consisting of concrete-reinforced slit trenches and machine gun emplacements. Behind that are a series of partly-buried strong points, concrete structures reminiscent of the Maginot Line in their rounded gun turrets and cupolas, connected to the first-line trenches by tunnels. Behind those strong points are a series of blockhouses, though these are, out of everything, the least resistant to artillery and stand-ins for stronger fortifications after Mansur ran out of money. Behind that, of course, is the city, and victory for the attacker in the first stage of fighting for Banda Aceh. Of course, the quality of the fortifications varies considerably depending where along the line one attacks. The best, most expensive fortifications are sited along the two main roads leading into the capital, which are anyway blocked-up and mined. Any major hostile force bringing a significant number of vehicles with it would have to use those two routes, and the terrain very far off both those roads is not good tank country. As a result, the space between the vicinity of those two roads is relatively lightly fortified, with barbed wire, minefields, and the occasional bunker, deemed sufficient to discourage attacks made by light infantry.

One weak point in the line is the road from Krueng Raya in the north, which is protected by a pair of blockhouses. Mansur's military architects took the luxury of assuming that the enemy would not attempt a landing there, and thus exploit that lightly-defended road to flank the main fortifications. The coast in general is not very heavily-fortified, save for a few blockhouses and gun emplacements, which occasionally take pot shots at Strainist warships offshore with their old destroyer and cruiser rifles. News of Banjarmasin's hit on the Lyong-ti raises morale significantly amongst gunners, who try very hard to repeat it, but doubtless the captains of lightly-armored or unarmored escorts will take care not to stray into the range of coastal artillery.

The capital itself is relatively quiet, save for the sound of marching soldiers and trucks, thanks largely to the Sultan's stern order that civilians remain indoors. Achenese civilians, unable to retreat further, have little else to do, and they try their best to avoid the military and its press gangs. In the almost inevitable street fighting, the noncombatant population is sure to suffer heavily, the mass of civilians having nowhere to go in order to get away from the fighting, and people know it. Homes are barricaded and made as bullet-proof as possible, but if the enemy brings out thermobaric weaponry such measures won't count for much. The best that people can hope for is that the battle will be over relatively quickly and that, once the Capital Stop Line is breeched, Mansur's forces surrender sooner rather than later.

In terms of infantry numbers, the Achenese defenders of Banda Aceh may well outnumber the Strainists on paper. The best troops garrisoning the capital are the three Guards regiments, after losses some 6,500 men strong, all told. Well-trained and disciplined, they also have their pick of the best equipment, and as such there are a great many SAR-21s in evidence besides the standard-issue M-16s and SAR-80s. Two of these regiments man the best fortifications, while the third is held in reserve. After the Guardsmen, there are some 1,500 regulars, many of them bailed-out tankers, who also, for the most part, man the fortifications. But easily the greatest part of the force assembled to defend Banda Aceh is made up of conscripts and reservists, who number slightly in excess of 11,000. Wearing olive-drab uniforms originally issued by the Federal Republic, they are immediately distinctive from the DPM-clad Sultan's Guard, and more likely equipped with an AK-47 than with an M-16 or SAR-80. This force of last-minute levies is indeed quite large, but many of its members have received next to no military training, and morale is very low. In terms of military ability, the Achenese force is effectively much smaller than the Aceh Liberation Group, and it will probably only be a matter of time until the Guards units are ground down or until the enemy manages to rout a conscript unit on the Stop Line.

There are still a few regular force battalions outside the Stop Line, however. Surviving elements of the Yathrib Regiment hold Seulimeum, on the northern road into Aceh, while a pair of battalions from the Badr Regiment man positions in Lhoknga, on the southern road. Retreat, thanks to the destruction and mining of the roads into Banda Aceh past those points, has become extremely difficult, if not impossible, with the result that those two relatively large forces, and a great many individual companies, platoons, and sections not destroyed in earlier fighting have found themselves shut out of the capital.

(OCC: A short OrBat for Aceh:

1st Special Guards Regiment (2,200 troops, M-16)
-3xInfantry Battalions
-1xArmored Car Battalion
2nd Special Guards Regiment (2,200 troops, M-16)
-4xInfantry Battalions
3rd Special Guards Regiment (2,200 troops, SAR-80)
-4xInfantry Battalions

5th Battalion, Yathrib Regiment (~500 troops, M-16)
2nd Battalion, Uhud Regiment (~500 troops, M-16)
B Company, 2nd Battalion, Badr Regiment (~100 troops, M-16)
1st Composite Battalion (~400 troops, M-16/SAR-80)

1st Banda Aceh Regiment (4,500 troops, M-16)
-9xInfantry Battalions
2nd Banda Aceh Regiment (3,300 troops, AK-47)
-6xInfantry Battalions
3rd Banda Aceh Regiment (3,200 troops, AK-47)
-6xInfantry Battalions

Coastal Artillery Command (950 troops, SAR-80)
-10xBatteries)

Pare-Pare

Indonesian infantry companies used in the cross-country maneuver, many of which have penetrated fairly far into the Strainist defense, are surprised at the arrival of enemy tanks in their vicinity, having been told by the regimental commander that the Western Column didn't have more than a handful of light armored vehicles. Orders go out by radio to fall back, commanders very much afraid of being cut-off from the rest of the regiment by the Strainist tanks, and troops try their best to break-off contact with the enemy, sifting back through towards the start line and trying not to run into bypassed enemy positions. The land around Pare-Pare, low-lying and developed for agriculture, is not ideal tank country, being irrigated and crisscrossed with various channels and water obstacles, but Indonesians would prefer to withdraw towards a location more of their choosing. Though a great many MATADORs were expended against Strainist infantry positions, there still are enough present in the forward companies to give the T-55s something to think about, and hopefully trailing anti-tank teams will be able to let the infantry companies escape to more defensible ground on foot.

On the main, paved highway, the sight of enemy tanks is enough to convince the Indonesians to break-off their attack in that sector, and armored cars beat a hasty retreat towards the start line. Infantry in this sector, however, are less eager to give-up ground in the face of Strainist armor. Approaching T-55s are met with MATADOR rockets and indirect fire from the two M40 recoilless rifles brought up to provide a modest form of artillery support. Soldiers duck down in ditches and do their best to cover the MATADOR gunners, who often try to crawl within point-blank range of their targets before firing.

Regimental artillery, not surprisingly, makes itself scarce, very much afraid of the Western Column's far superior gun and rocket assets. Truck-mounted NDL-40s are hidden under camouflage netting or in groves of trees, crews waiting for orders to the contrary. Such orders aren't long in coming, though, with officers in the stubborn central battalion starting to call-in coordinates. NDL-40s, for better or worse, break cover and re-assemble into their batteries, within a short time letting loose with 70mm high-explosive rockets.

Pontianak

In the southwest, the Indonesian armored force takes further losses in its engagement with enemy hovercraft-borne infantry. The road, by now, has a fair few burned-out, bullet-riddled Saracens on it, and the survivors have largely withdrawn out of range or taken cover. Again, Strainist thermobaric rockets prove extremely problematic for the Islamic Guard, and when a launch signature is sighted, the Indonesians pour fire into the area in an effort to neutralize one of the most dangerous weapon in the enemy's extremely potent arsenal. Enemy attempts at a flanking maneuver are met as well as ought to be expected, and sergeants bark orders to infantrymen scurrying along the road embankment, trying to maneuver ahead of the enemy. Ammunition, at this stage of the firefight, is not in short supply, so Indonesians are generally able to compensate for their relatively poor aim with volume of fire, something helped by the generous amount of Ultimaxes and FN-MAGs carried by the mobile force.

Back in Pontianak proper, the Indonesian regimental group, though shaken, still manages a reply to the enemy bombardment. 81mm mortars, the greatest part of them positioned in a car park and protected by sandbags, open up on the opposite bank of the Landak, though targets are ambiguous and much of the time the gunners simply have to guess as to the enemy's position. Colonel Abdurrahman doesn't have any UAVs, or any spotter planes for that matter, to designate targets for his mortar teams, and the more numerous 60mm weapons are held in reserve, for use once something more concrete presents itself to be shot at. Soldiers manning the riverbank bunkers look out over the water, clouds of smoke wafting across its surface, and wait for the expected attempt at a crossing.

Strainist flankers are almost unopposed in their crossing of the Landak, save for light sniper fire from Indonesians with scoped M-14s. Abdurrahman, after all, doesn't have nearly enough men as it is, and only a handful are deployed on Pontianak's island. Still, word gets through regarding the enemy's arrival in the area, and the few companies present to mount a defense are relatively quick to react. Troops around the Jembatan Landak fight enemy amphibious tanks with MATADORs, but the speed of their withdrawal from the bridge's approaches may surprise enemy commanders. Meanwhile, in a heavily reinforced concrete bunker, Indonesian engineers panic. Unwilling to wait until there are enemy troops on the bridge to blow it up, they connect the charges to their detonator and push the plunger.

Money is scarce in Kalla's Indonesia, so the Jembatan Landak isn't in what one would call the best state of repair. Still, the structure does not go down easily. After the flash of the demolition charges and the cloud of dust, it takes a few tantalizing moments before the general sound of nearby and distant gunfire is overpowered by the shriek of straining metal. Finally, the weakened span gives out and flops into the Landak, much to the delight and relief of Indonesian sappers.

Nearer the Jembatan Kapuas, though, the Indonesians are more inclined to stick around, that bridge being their route to the mainland. There still aren't many men on the island side of the bridge, most of the companies being positioned towards the island's western tip, so as to, ideally, catch any Strainists in a crossfire when they try to force the Landak. It is fortunate that enemy infantry has not yet arrived in force, because, when three enemy tanks show up at the Jembatan Kapuas's northern end, there is only a single section of infantry present to defend it. But the infantry section puts up a particularly tenacious defense. The Indonesians scatter when they first spot the enemy tanks coming towards them, but it isn't long before they realize that the vehicles seem to have no accompanying infantry. The section's MATADOR gunner is quick to try and engage the lead Strainist vehicle, climbing onto a second-floor balcony in order to get a good shot at the top armor. Others use single-shot LAW rocket launchers, but these are less likely to penetrate the frontal armor of such a vehicle as the T63.

Just a few hundred meters to the southwest, though, sappers sit in their bunker, built into the side of a road embankment, waiting for a good time to blow the bridge.

Medan

“…it is unacceptable, un-Revolutionary! One does not liberate through starvation, does not spread truth through walls and roadblocks!”

Leftenant-General Jusuf Malaka’s protestations were more horrified than angry, their emotion muted by the fatigue of the flight from Jakarta barely an hour before. On the table in front of him stood pages of facts and figures, maps marked with deployments and photographs of the defenses around Banda Aceh. Ideally, the Sultan and his officers would have fled in the face of rapid Strainist advances, but most in the Revolutionary Army had known it would have to fight hard to oust Mansur from his capital. Still, no one relished the prospect. With the possible exception, mused Malaka, of General Sunabaya Sandi.

Sandi’s reply was driven by anger, annoyance at any objection to his plans.

“And what would you have us do, then, Malaka? Charge in with bayonets fixed and cross the wire on bridges made from corpses of those in the vanguard? Or perhaps we ought leave Mansur with his city and be happy with the halfway job we’ve done so far?

Banda Aceh brims with evil, with brutal animals who love only violence and suffering and who thirst for the blood of Sumatra’s innocents. It is a city which must be purged, cleansed with fire until it is made clean…”

Sandi’s fist slammed into the table, knocking papers into disarray.

“But you have barred me from doing what must be done! What do functionaries and religious scholars know of warfare, of necessities in the field? What do mosques and churches matter when their loss might herald victory?

If I could use the weapons I need, this would be resolved in a matter of days, red flags replacing green and good replacing evil at Sumatra’s northern tip. But you send me into battle with hands tied behind my back, and then DARE take offence when I employ the only alternative?”

“There are other ways, General Sandi. With careful targeting and troops advancing on the ground…”

Sandi smiled coldly.

“Will you do it then, Jusuf? Will you tell the soldiers going into battle that their lives are to be sacrificed when they might otherwise live, just so those cloistered in Jakarta can pat themselves on the back and mouth Party platitudes?
But I should not be surprised… by now, what could a few more drops of blood matter on the hands of General Rosh?

I will not give such orders, but I will cede to the wisdom of the committee secretary and his chosen emissary.”

Malaka winced, having no immediate retort. Sandi might not be the greatest supporter of General Rosh, but in earlier times he would at least have maintained a degree of respect. Now, it seemed, he felt no need to even veil his attacks… another consequence of Balikpapan.

Rosh had once told him that Sandi would dig his own grave in Aceh, but Malaka saw no evidence of that now.

“Well, Malaka? Have you no response? Leniency against this inhuman enemy has already returned to haunt us… even here in Medan, we have lost a propaganda officer to a pair of escaped prisoners, and they might have continued seeking blood had not the People’s Liberation Volunteers been there to gun them down.”

At last, Malaka broke his silence.

“The loss of Leftenant Chieng was unfortunate, but an aberration… as Revolutionary soldiers we must continue to provide those who oppose us opportunity to seek redemption. We will simply have to be more careful in securing those undergoing re-education.

As for your plan…”

Another pause, the tension in the room rising to even higher levels. In rank, Malaka knew himself to be subordinate to Sandi, but rank was not the end of things in the Revolutionary Army. He was known to be close to General Rosh… if he were to oppose Sandi’s strategy, much of the Fourth Front might join him despite his junior status. But war was not the time for such an internal struggle, and Malaka did not have an alternative.

“… I am here only to advise, General Sandi. The decision remains yours.”

Aceh

http://img167.imageshack.us/img167/3922/sujavaninfantrymennk5.jpg
SRA infantry awaiting orders in Aceh

Where they are unopposed, Strainist advances halt and begin to dig in short of the defenses around Banda Aceh, aircraft and UAVs gathering targets for artillery and searching out holes or vulnerable spots along the city’s perimeter. Having held the momentum throughout the battle for Aceh, the Revolutionary Army is forced to pause as it contemplates what might be done to crack open Mansur’s shell.

At Seulimeum, Lhoknga, and other points where Indonesian forces remain in number, there is much less hesitation. Propaganda reminds such troops that the doors have been shut, and they have been abandoned… with nowhere to run, there are only two choices: fight on until the inevitable embrace of death, or surrender and live on into a new era of peace. SRA armoured and mechanized brigades, unable to proceed into Banda Aceh, stand ready to press the attack should the Indonesians choose the former.

North of Banda Aceh, in the waters along the coast still held by the Sultan’s men, two Strainist submarines begin the task of laying torpedo mines and warning buoys. Resupply comes from a merchant tender further out, joined by warships unwilling to risk their thin modern hulls against Acehnese shore batteries. If the Sultan has closed the routes overland, the Revolutionary Army will put the cork in his bottle and see if he becomes more cooperative once he has nowhere to run.

Pare-Pare

Strainist tanks at Pare-Pare soon begin to slow as casualties are suffered… while the first few shots can be shrugged off, the MATADOR is certainly able to prove its worth as distances shorten and flanks are exposed. Pursuit of escaping vehicles is deemed impossible as T55s attempt to remain close enough to Strainist infantry that their flanks can be protected, using their guns to provide supporting fire in firefights.
Strainist artillery, meanwhile, shifts almost exclusively to counter-battery fire against enemy NDL-40s and other indirect weapons, a role which allows them to claim to be useful while expending less ammunition than would be lost bombarding enemy infantry.
The attackers continue to be able to advance into the deep defence, despite a stiffening in Strainist strength… the point, after all, is to defeat the enemy rather than hold them at bay. Behindf the defenses, amongst the artillery units, uncommitted troops are prepared for the counter-attack that is meant to mark the end of this defensive strategy.

Pontianak

The collapse of the bridge crossing the Landak is a wake-up call to Strainist commanders… the Indonesians would hardly rig one bridge to fall and leave the other to be taken. Still, the realization comes too late for the trio of light tanks rushing towards the remaining bridge, who also learn a lesson about rushing on too far ahead… the lead vehicle of the group explodes as a MATADOR shot smashes against its top hatch, its flaming wreck forcing its two followers to a halt. This may, however, be a lesson in disguise, as it means their much slower advance puts their front armour in the face of enemy LAWs, rather than more vulnerable sides and rear. The two tanks immediately empty their smoke launchers and begin to back away, guns swivelling to search out and shatter the building from which came the shot that slew their leader.

Strainist forces at the southern end of the Landak bridge are quick to press against the retreating Indonesians… an urban advance is rarely a rapid event, but there is hope that by maintaining pressure they will see the battles for the two bridges joined, rather than allowing Indonesians to fall back freely from one and reinforce the other. Infantry (and more sensible T63s) tasked with assaulting the Kapuas bridge also continue their advance, though they slow slightly after being informed of the Jembatan Landak’s destruction… no need to abandon caution if their target will likely burst into flames upon arrival anyway.

The Strainist troops near the northern end of the Jembatan Landak, deprived of an easy crossing, begin to reposition themselves to join the eventual amphibious assault. Heavy mortars and other artillery are also repositioned, though more slowly, remaining to take targets from troops to the south until the Indonesians retreat out of range.

Balikpapan

Strainist aircraft do much to hamper Indonesian preparations for a final maneuver against the retreating marines and their incoming relief force, and further casualties are indeed taken, but the Islamic Guard can handle them and many more before the situation becomes desperate in Balikpapan. Stinger teams are repositioned and a handful of towed Oerlikon 20mm guns are brought up as well, while ten of the fifteen-some remaining armored cars creep forward, pressing the Strainist marines between themselves and the men at the airport. Close behind are the infantrymen, in high spirits and, most of them, fairly fresh, often firing their M-16s and Ultimax MGs from the hip in their enthusiasm.

At Sepinggan itself, things look quite a bit more grim. Squeezed between two enemy forces as well, the Indonesians there, by now not numbering more than a few companies, finally give way. AA cannon continue firing to the last, but a fair few infantrymen run out with their hands up, and if Strainist troops bother to check discarded rifles and web gear, they ought to notice a very serious lack of bullets. Resupply by helicopter, which may have improved the Indonesians' position at Sepinggan, did not, after all, exactly meet with success.

But to the colonel observing the action from his rooftop command post, the enemy's overwhelming of the airport's defenders is only a temporary setback. Perhaps the two enemy forces are by now united, but, almost certainly, the IRI still has numbers on its side, and in a big way, at least, by the colonel's estimation, three to one. Orders go out to all units: attack relentlessly and force the enemy back to his beachhead. Whistles sound as mortarmen lob 81mm and 60mm bombs at the Strainists and as Saracens scuttle in and out of cover, making liberal use of their L3 machine guns. On gate hill, two Indonesian battalions begin to establish themselves, thus, more or less, securing the road to Samarinda and putting maybe a little pressure on the enemy's flank. 60mm mortars open fire against the relief force proceeding along the coast road, and, though their small bombs aren't apt to do any particularly serious damage, fire taken from the flank might go a little further towards convincing the enemy to evacuate. A pair of 20mm AA cannon are also hauled onto the top of Gate Hill, and these too fire upon Strainists moving along the coast road.

Pare-Pare

Indonesian NDL-40s rapidly withdraw back under cover once enemy rockets start to land in their midst, the regimental commander being quite unwilling to lose his only artillery assets, and the rocket crews themselves not entirely eager to engage the SRA in an artillery duel. It doesn't take long for the truck-mounted NDL-40s to pack-up and reposition, but two vehicles are lost nonetheless, their unarmored bodies shredded by shrapnel and their stowed ammunition blown up.

Most of the infantry companies, meanwhile, continue their steady retreat back towards their start line in the face of enemy armor. Short on MATADORs and completely lacking tanks of their own, the Indonesians would rather engage Strainist T55s on more favorable terms, and, hopefully, closer to the dozen or so 106mm recoilless rifles that make up the regiment's heavy anti-tank company. The major exception to this is still the company sent to attack along the road, which maintains contact with the enemy throughout and only reluctantly gives-up ground to counterattacking tanks. With MATADOR rockets running short, some Indonesians try to get close with hand grenades, aiming to lob them at tracks and into any hatches that might be open, but this is quite difficult in the presence of supporting enemy infantry and the majority of those attacks will almost certainly not have the desired effect.

With the attacking battalions largely in retreat, the regimental commander decides to commit his reserve, another two battalions, in hopes of re-starting the push forward in some form or another.

Pontianak

On Pontianak's island, the main body of the Indonesian force there joins the battle with the Strainist flanking force, its commander conscious of the need to delay that particular wing of the enemy attack as long as possible. Indonesians aren't particularly well-concentrated, operating in sections and platoons rather than companies and with battalion-level command in name only, but these small groups still do their best to engage enemy troops in bitter city fighting. Ambushes are set along the main road from the Jembatan Landak to the Jembatan Kapuas, and likewise smaller units lurk inside buildings along less-conspicuous routes, ready to block, or at least to annoy, any Strainists who come looking for a better route. Given the size of the Indonesian force, and given its very limited supply of ammunition, the battle ought not last too long, and the outcome is already more or less decided, barring any stroke of military genius on the part of either the Major in command or Colonel Abdurrahman. But the Indonesian infantrymen on Pontianak's island can reasonably hope to delay and deplete the enemy flanking force.

By the Jembatan Kapuas, Indonesian infantrymen cheer the destruction of an enemy tank by their hands, but are less pleased when their 66mm LAWs bounce off the frontal armor of the other T63s without effect. The section's MATADOR gunner, in the process of aiming a second rocket, doesn't get the chance to repeat his first success, an enemy shell finding his position, but another infantry section, with another MATADOR gunner, rushes to the aid of the troopers engaging the T63s. A second rocket, less carefully-aimed than the first, streaks towards the nearest of the two surviving Strainist tanks, and it may well convince the T63s to accelerate their withdrawal even if it doesn't exactly find its mark.

Pontianak

The prospect of a river crossing under fire was never a pleasant one, but the Strainist Revolutionary Army was familiar with the tactic… the USSR doctrines from which their own strategies were drawn considered such operations to be a standard part of any maneuver, and the troops on the Kapuas’ northern bank had been trained for the eventuality. Still, the crossing would exact a higher toll than an advance over dry land, to be sure.

Strainist artillery fire intensifies, rockets and shells pouring down first into the river, then advancing up the southern bank. At first, smoke rounds are included, providing a measure of obscurity for the men waiting on the northern side, while as the barrage reaches the buildings and harder obstacles opposite, thermobaric warheads make their presence known… the rubble which will be left deemed better to what enemy strongpoints might exist, providing perhaps some measure of cover for the advancing forces as well as the defenders. Concerned over civilian presence, such weapons cease to be used past two hundred meters from the river.

As the barrage advances out of the river, engineers immediately set about their work… bridges must be established quickly, before the enemy can regroup, while ferries set about pushing to the opposite shore with the vanguard of the operation. At 500 meters across, the Kapuas here exceeds the range of the smaller scissors-type bridges borne by armoured engineering vehicles, and even the just-under-200-meter length of the SRA’s pontoon bridges. Two of those systems are present for deployment, along with improvised additions constructed of empty drums, wood, and commandeered boats… the bridge will not be capable of supporting vehicles, but that ability was already lost when the decision was made to achieve maximum length. Twelve wheeled boats are charged with overseeing assembly as quickly as can be managed... under optimal conditions, the process would take just under an hour, but the middle of a battle is hardly optimal for engineering.

In the interim, it falls to the ferries to lead the charge. Altogether, the engineering battalion assembled on the northern bank includes twelve heavy ferries, each assembled from two tracked amphibians and capable of bearing just over 50 tons, 14 heavy amphibians each bearing 12 tons, between which are distributed 4 amphibious artillery trailers. While capable of hauling even battle tanks, the ferries now brim primarily with infantry and lighter vehicles. Whatever powered boats and rafts could be scrounged are also loaded with troops to make a crossing attempt, those without motors taken for the bridging effort.

Alongside the ferries come the independently-amphibious components of the SRA’s force… primarily T63 tanks and V54 APCs. More unusually, several dozen infantry also begin an independent crossing, each with paddle and flotation belt. While not the most stable platforms, some small arms fire can be aimed by those crossing the river towards enemies on the shore, and great effort has been expended to ensure that the 105mm gun of the T63 is sufficiently stabilized for use while swimming.

On the shore, artillery is not the only source of covering fire. While most infantry wait in cover for bridges or ferries, some are tasked with keeping the Indonesians suppressed. The range of the SRA’s standard R88 rifle is lacking for this particular engagement under normal circumstances, but one out of every ten men in Strainist infantry units is tasked with sharpshooting duty, supplied with heavier ammunition than the usual 6.5mm rounds and an extended barrel to reach ranges out to 800 meters. As tube artillery will soon take up the counterbattery role against enemy guns, so will the sharpshooters respond to Indonesian small arms fire, hopefully encouraging the foe to seek better shelter and abandon their positions on the bank.

---

The battle on Pontianak’s island is not particularly fast-paced, SRA flanking troops now aware that their maneuver will not secure a path for the main force. Street fighting thus proceeds slowly, attacking units freed to be properly cautious.

Near the Jembatan Kapuas, the Indonesians may count a second T63 kill, though one somewhat delayed. While a second MATADOR shot does not trigger the explosion of its target, it does succeed in clipping the side of the vehicle… a mobility kill, followed after a minute or two by an internal explosion as the crew of four vacate their now-frozen chariot, leaving grenades to prevent its use by the enemy. The final T63 attempts to trace and return fire against the MATADOR gunner, while simultaneously quickening its retreat back towards the East, its final act the emptying of smoke launchers to grant a bit of cover to the crew of its fellow tank as they too attempt to fall back.

Pare-Pare

Indonesian determination costs the SRA one more T55, before additional infantry are ordered forward from reserve units to counter the enemy’s deployment of their own reserves. Still hoping to find weakness in the foe and then launch fresh troops from out-of-contact in a counter-assault, SRA commanders release only one of their reserve battalions to join the fighting.

Balikpapan

SRA forces rush to combine their strength and use the capture of the airport to full advantage. The lack of ammunition is a sore disappointment, particularly to Strainist marines who are themselves now running close to empty, and whatever weapons still hold shots are grabbed up and turned to face the remaining Indonesians.

Those enemy troops captured at the airport will, perhaps, consider themselves lucky to have run into a gullible foe… they are released to flee the airport after receiving a gift of candy bars and a request that they refrain from returning to combat for twenty-four hours. The Strainists are not, however, being generous due to stupidity or selflessness… they do not have the manpower to keep POWs under present circumstances, and perhaps more importantly are aware that they themselves may end up falling into enemy hands before the battle is through… reason enough to hope that leniency now will earn reciprocal treatment later.

BBC World Broadcast

Hi, I'm Lyse Doucet and this is the BBC. Doucet, a brown haired woman in her middle years, was seated behind a fine wood table. She was backed by screens of all sizes and shapes, connected to computers, television broadcasts and offscreen interviews. Suited men and women bustled about behind her, out of focus in the camera's image. Tonight, I will be speaking with Ben Brown, our foreign correspondent covering the war in Indonesia. Ben is stationed in Aceh, which has been the scene of intense fighting as Strainist troops attempt to complete their capture of the Indonesian archipelago. Right now, Aceh is subject to siege by elements of the Spyran and Sujavan armies, and under close blockade by Strainist naval units. Now, over to Ben.

The screen splits, with Doucet on one side and a tired looking man on the other. His hair is blown by wind and sprinkled with dust, and the background is no more inspiring. He is standing in an anonymous street, people gathering to watch the strange Englishman and his camera. A few wave in the background before being ushered away by friends and relatives not especially inclined to appear on western television.

Hi, Lyse, and thanks for that introduction. As you can see, Brown makes an expansive gesture with his arm to indicate the city around, Aceh has been the scene of a great deal of suffering caused by both the current war and years of Sultan Mansur's governance. The sound of a jet rumbles in the background, and machine gun fire can be heard in the distance. There's combat going on right now, although the main attack hasn't yet started.

What do you expect that attack to look like, Ben, Doucet asks, crossing her legs and organizing papers on her desk. Brown's response is delayed by the real time transmission, and a small icon reading 'Live' unfurls from the BBC logo in the top left corner.

Right, Brown replies after a few moments of silence. I've done a few interviews with Sultan Mansur's officers, and most of them expect the Strainists to either launch a very heavy attack on the defensive lines, or attempt to starve the city out. Now, the direct attack would by very costly to both the Strainist armies and the Indonesians, but it would largely spare the city of Aceh. Brown pauses for a moment and the camera sweeps over Aceh, showing a large number of unprosperous homes and fine mosques. On the other hand, a blockade and starvation would force a mostly bloodless surrender, but the people here would harbour a great deal of resentment towards the Strainists. Remember, Lyse, they are trying to absorb Indonesia into the Spyr/Sujava sphere, not conquer it outright, and for that you need people who are more or less amenable to you.

Does that mean that life under the Strainists would be better for the Indonesians than it is under Mansur? Doucet has organized her desk while the audience is focussed on Brown, and she now sits without anything to fiddle.

That's a tough call to make, Brown says. Mansur isn't a democratic ruler, and his style of Islamic rule is definitely more traditional than the one supported by the Islamic Strainism wing of the Strainist party. On the other hand, Mansur is also a local ruler, and a lot of people feel some loyalty to him that they might not feel towards Sithin and Jakarta. Brown pauses for a moment as the crackle of small arms fire increases in volume and resumes once it dies down. In addition, there's a lot of ethnic tension left over from the FRB days here, and there's a very real possibility that the people of Aceh will be targetted by Jakarta for some kind of retribution. Sithin can be expected to exert a moderating influence of sorts, but the idea of the 'will of the people' exerts a pretty strong pull there, and Jakarta could make a strong case for doing 'justice', Brown makes little quotes in the air with his fingers, by having some kind of People's Courts system like the ones prevalent in Maoist China or Soviet Russia. Those sorts of institutions would almost certainly be quite brutal in handing out punishment, but at this point there really isn't any hope for Aceh that it will escape conquest.

All right, Doucet says, thanks, Ben, for that report. Once again, that's Ben Brown, live from Aceh in Indonesia. Now, over to Manisha Tank for a rundown on the numbers from Wall Street and FTSE...

Pontianak

With enemy artillery fire raining down on their positions again, the Indonesians manning riverside machine guns have no choice but to hunker down and hope for the best. Several more sandbagged positions are knocked-out, along with, of course, a fair few decoys. Thermobaric warheads have, as ever, a tremendous effect on the fortified buildings along the Kapuas, and dozens of Indonesians lose their lives when their positions are just shattered by such weaponry. But a lucky few machine gun emplacements persist, and the barrels of a few operative M2s and M1919s still peek out of firing slits.

The bulk of Abdurrahman's infantry are held-back from the riverbank itself, though. Two companies of infantrymen, plus a machine gun company, defend the south bank directly, but the remainder of the Indonesian force occupies positions further back. To line the river with his very limited numbers of infantrymen, Abdurrahman reasons, would be a bad idea, inviting a great many of them to be killed before the battle even really starts. So as to best use his limited manpower, he adopts, to some extent, the strategy of defense in depth. By allowing the enemy a beachhead, the Indonesians hope to force the Strainists into an engagement at much closer range, where their troops and vehicles are bunched-up and where maneuver is difficult. Of course, it will probably become apparent what the Indonesians are up to pretty quickly, and after that the Strainist commanders ought not to have too much in the way of reservations about directing artillery onto the intermediate zone between the riverbank and the main residential areas of Pontianak. Enemy bombardment has already cost Abdurrahman some 350 casualties.

Machine guns fire into the Strainist smokescreen in the hopes of hitting something, though, most likely, much ammunition is expended for very few hits. Zeroed-in prior to the battle, 81mm mortars also fire onto the north bank, more likely than the machine gunners to hit something useful. Enemy counter battery fire, however, is quick to find the 81mm emplacements, and those crews that aren't killed outright are quick to abandon their mortars and find better cover. Fire support, therefore, is left up to the surviving 60mm mortar crews, who, so far, haven't been brought into play.

The Indonesians' 60mm weapons open-up on Strainist amphibious vehicles and ferries as they emerge from out of the smoke screen. Mortar crews fire a few rounds and then find a new spot, their mortars being light and easy to reposition, but, as a consequence of their haste, Indonesian fire probably isn't all that accurate. And for such relatively small mortar bombs, a direct hit is necessary to do real damage against waterborne targets. Further opposition to enemy amphibious elements comes in the form of small arms and machine gun fire out of surviving bunkers and earthworks. It is not enough to stop the crossing altogether, but it may well cause noticeable losses and delays. In all probability there are still a few mines in the river, though not nearly enough to cause any serious trouble.

On Pontianak's island, the battle does not go particularly well for the Indonesians. With the enemy no longer rushing to reach the Jembatan Kapuas, it becomes useless to waste forces on laying ambushes, and the fight develops a more normal attritional character. With fewer troops to begin with, and those less well-supported than the Strainists, the Indonesian defending force begins to visibly lose ground. MATADOR rockets are still present in quantity, though, and heavy use is made of these highly effective weapons in an effort to stall the enemy advance for as long as possible. Being occupied with fighting against the Strainist flankers, the Indonesian companies are not able to fulfill their initial purpose, namely to catch the main enemy crossing attempt in a crossfire. Machine guns formerly positioned facing the river are moved inland, and rifle pits sit empty by the water.

At the Jembatan Kapuas itself, the engineers responsible for triggering the detonation charges finally lose their nerve and blow the bridge. Having been given the lion's share of explosives, the Jembatan Kapuas goes down much more quickly than its more northerly counterpart.

Aceh

Outlying detachments and the remainder of the Achenese regular battalions are quickly swallowed-up by the Strainist advance. Shut-out of the capital, many of those soldiers see little reason to continue fighting, but others do their best to resist and delay the enemy advance. Within a matter of hours, though, the enemy spearheads ought to be facing Banda Aceh itself.

Boat traffic into and out of Mansur's fortified capital is very light, given the Strainist blockade. His handful of patrol boats remain tied to their piers, crews quite unwilling to risk almost certain destruction at the hands of enemy warships, at least during the daylight hours. The Sultan soon begins to wish that he took some of the money he used on the Capital Stop Line and spent it on a personal submarine, but it is too late for such considerations. Between patrolling warships and minefields, Banda Aceh is essentially sealed-off from the outside world. Sultan Mansur is eager to speak with the Australasian "medical personnel" who arrived in the capital just prior to the blockade, however. He is confident that, by virtue of their flag, they will be able to get him out of the country.

Pare-Pare

Hard-pressed by enemy infantry, the Indonesian company on the main road is finally pushed back with heavy losses. With that the Khandaq Regiment abandons its assault entirely, and the infantry companies take up defensive positions roughly along the start line. M-40 recoilless rifles are moved forward as well, old weapons and certainly quite a bit less highly-valued than the Khandaq Regiment's former TOW launchers, but still perhaps able to destroy a T55 with a hit on the frontal armor. These also take-over the task of bombarding the advancing enemy and covering the road company's retreat, though, expectedly, the fire they deliver is probably not at all accurate.

Balikpapan

"Infantry, ten o'clock, 70 yards! Shoot!"

Corporal Yamin sits in the turret of his Alvis Saladin armored car as it rushes forward just a few hundred yards away from the recently-overcome Sepinggan International Airport. Looking out over the turret top with the commander's periscope, Yamin spots targets for the 76mm main gun. And with the Balikpapan Brigade Group's effort to recapture Sepinggan International Airport well underway, that gun sees heavy use. Enemy action by now reduced the armored car battalion based at Samarinda to ten vehicles out of 40 starting out, so the Saladins still pressing the attack are very much the lucky ones. It is, as the Indonesian Saladin crews found out, no good to be fighting as tanks against real tanks, when their own vehicles' armor can be pierced by suitably heavy machine gun fire, and many lives were lost before Indonesian numbers finally overcame the opposition in Balikpapan town. Hopefully, now that the enemy is out in more open ground, and perhaps without any more tanks, the Saladins will see their chances improved.

But like most of his comrades, death is the last thing on Corporal Yamin's mind as he watches enemy infantry retreating before him. Indeed, a feeling that victory is very close, coupled with the desire to avenge the rest of the Islamic Guard, motivates Yamin to press forward where armored car commanders at Pontianak or Pare-Pare would be retreating in disarray.

Indonesian soldiers released from Sepinggan by the Strainists have rifles thrust into their arms upon their return to friendly positions, and they're ordered right back into the fighting in spite of their promises. The survivors from the Sepinggan garrison are, for their part, surprised at the Strainists' leniency. Such a show of mercy on the Islamic Guard's part would be entirely unprecedented, after all, and the Strainist gesture is still for the most part lost on the Brigade commander. But the propaganda value of captured Strainists is certainly not lost on the Indonesian colonel, so he has no intention of executing any of the marines should they fall into his hands, as would perhaps otherwise be the case. What Indonesian troops do by themselves, though, is a different story, and not every front-line company hears news of Strainist clemency. No more or less brutal than most soldiers, the Islamic Guardsmen have nonetheless suffered greatly at the hands of the SRA.

Halmahera

Survivors from the attack on Galela retreat into the country side on old foot trails and logging paths, the likes of which most of the militiamen know fairly well. With the taking of Kao, the coastal track that had got Jailolo's force to Galela in the first place would not do for the return trip, his troops being too few and too tired to reliably engage even a lightly-equipped hostile position. Being in possession of the harbor, the enemy will doubtless reinforce the paratroopers heavily, and the Sultan of Jailolo knows that his best chance for driving the enemy off Halmahera had come and gone. Taking to the wooded, hilly interior, most of Jailolo's troops prepare for a guerrilla struggle against the Strainists and their allies, while the Sultan himself weighs the options.

Nearer to Jailolo town, the 200-some militiamen left behind busy themselves with preparing a defense against the enemy troops that will in all probability be coming down the road from Galela and Kao in a short time. Roadblocks are established at several places along the main road, usually consisting of a few felled trees or steel drums, and defended by the occasional RPD machine gun. The militiamen themselves are the most poorly-equipped and the oldest of Jailolo's regency regiment, unable to make the trip out to Galela on such short notice. Unlike the troops so far faced by the Strainists and Hindustanis, whose camouflage fatigues gave them something close to the appearance of regular troops, the men left at Jailolo town have only armbands as their uniform, and there are just as many bolt-action rifles as there are AK-47s in their hands.

And as ever, ethnic and religious tensions on Halmahera simmer only just below the surface. Galela, for instance, was seriously damaged by fighting between Christian and Muslim militias only recently, and, though the scars from that clash are doubtless covered-over by those of more intense fighting, hundreds were killed and the memory is still very much fresh in the minds of Malukans. After fighting Jailolo's men, Strainist and Hindustani troops may well find themselves waist-deep in another battle, as Christians, who look upon the Strainists as liberators and as their champions, set out to take revenge against the Muslim population who, with Kalla's support, came out the better in most of Halmahera's civil conflicts.

Capital Stop Line, Aceh

"Push morphine! Someone get me a probe and forceps, quick. You there, hand me that disinfectant. Move, people." Doctor Steven Chalmers holds court in a reinforced bunker, surrounded by patients and aides both Indonesian and Australian. He is crouched over the moaning form of an Indonesian regular, a bullet lodged in his abdomen. Chalmers, erstwhile doctor of the International Medical Brigade, has not actually performed any espionage work in several weeks, instead having become mired in the duties of a neutral doctor in a warzone.

"Dammit, no, give me the sharp." He snatches the ampule of morphine from a harried assistant, uncaps it with his teeth and jams it into the Indonesian man's leg. He spits the cap away and tosses the sharp into a trash bin. "Now, probe and forceps."

If Sultan Mansur intended to use the IMB boat as an escape raft, he would be disappointed. Chalmers' mission, and that of his colleagues, did not entail leaving the area until it had been conquered by the Strainists. Doctors and nurses all, they were ostensibly stationed there for the duration of the conflict and as such were not planning to escape. Moreover, none of them were really interested in helping Mansur to run. Chalmers and his staff were doctors, and in the rather expected failure of leadership in Aceh they had returned to their public mission-- saving lives.

Stop Line, elsewhere

Of course, they had not always been doctors. Sam Galbraith, ex-captain of the Colonial Marines, stood on the top of a brush-cleared hill and watched the bombs falling. As positions went, it was rather exposed, but few professional soldiers were going to shoot a caucasian woman wearing a white coat emblazoned with a red cross. She raised a pair of binoculars and trained them on what appeared to be an advance party of Strainist sappers strayed beyond their own lines.

She fished a dogeared map of the area from her coat, and marked their position down with a stub of pencil. As a medic, Sam Galbraith knew her stuff. As a combat officer, she was as good as any captain in the marines. Her map detailed most of the stop line, and was marked with the greatest advance of Strainist troops as well as suspected locations for their forward artillery. In candid moments with other IMB personnel, Galbraith was known to observe that she was perhaps the best informed person along the entire stop line, availed of one of the IMB's jeeps and her own experience as an officer. With discipline breaking down on the line, Galbraith was taking the opportunity to study Strainist tactics up-close, perhaps to locate weaknesses in their standard deployment pattern.

Aceh
The BBC was, to many working in the Party’s propaganda apparatus, being rather forgiving of Strainist efforts in northern Sumatra. Elsewhere in Indonesia, the argument of ‘liberation’ held much more weight… the Revolution was new there, replacing Kalla’s regime with an alternative unavailable since Singapore lost control over its Southeast Asian empire. Aceh, on the other hand, had not been part of the short-lived Canadian occupation zone following collapse of the Federal Republic. Instead, it had been one of the regions that had taken up the fight for independence when Harald fell in Maropia, electing to part ways with Strainist-dominated Sujava and follow Kalla’s vision of an Islamic caliphate when post-Bonstock maps were drawn.
Aceh was Aceh, and the choice had been predictable… Mansur’s influence in Indonesia was doubtless greater than that the Acehnese would enjoy amongst the masses of the Strainist Party. Though just short of proper independence, Aceh under Indonesia was closer than ever to fulfilling a drive forged in centuries of resistance to Anglo-Tulgarian imperialism… before the present war, some might have wondered if Kalla’s tanks were in Sumatra more to keep Mansur on side than to deter Jakarta.
But to the emerging Strainist consciousness in Sujava, Aceh’s nationalist identity was an affront, a continuation of the divisions which Singapore had played since the end of the Pacific War to maintain its rule. Many had felt hurt on a personal level, while some who had been on the other side of Singaporean manipulations had yet to shake off an FRB legacy of ethnic mistrust.

For an organization which tended to view uncertainty as anathema, the Party had embarked on operations in Aceh with surprisingly little of the eventual outcome known for sure, a source of little comfort despite talk of bright futures and new roads ahead.

Operations on the ground were equally uncertain, and an observer might be led to think the soldiers of the Revolution far less motivated than was actually the case. The concept of a siege was not one for which the SRA had been trained, was in many ways opposed to a vision of war which celebrated constant motion, which imagined itself striking down oppressors amidst the cheers of the liberated. The order to wait made many officers uneasy, and signs of that discomfort were apparent.
Strainist artillery bombardment, particularly in the early days, suffers from problems of pacing: massed fire is inappropriate here, but often SRA rockets rain down thicker than necessary at first, leaving a pause for Indonesian retreat or repositioning when the bombardment slackens to replenish ammunition. As the days wear on, artillerists adapt somewhat, but the waiting game wears down the spirits of those troops arrayed on the front lines: some might call the small night raids that soon emerge ‘brave’ or ‘daring’, but in a more honest assessment they are foolish, risking SRA lives to subdue posts that will be reinforced when no great advance pushes forward, to kill enemy soldiers who would be likely casualties anyway if the artillery and starvation were just given enough time.

Though, if they could overcome their current failings, time was something the Strainists had in spades, a luxury not available to Sultan Mansur or his beleaguered subjects. Of particular concern was likely the water treatment plant at Lambaro: food supplies might be rationed for some time, but the available groundwater in northern Sumatra was hardly sufficient for the needs of Banda Aceh, and decades of human and industrial waste made consumption of untreated river water a mixed prospect at best. Almost seven kilometres south of the city limits, the plant at Lambaro was the municipality’s sole source of water, and even if Mansur’s defensive lines extended to encompass it, the FRB-era plant had troubles enough operating in peacetime, let alone in the line of fire.

Pontianak
Casualties from the river crossing continue to mount as the SRA makes its drive up the southern bank of the river... planners in Jakarta have little reason for concern, such a cost having been analyzed and deemed acceptable long before the first shots were fired. Commanders closer to the front are affected more personally by the loss of their comrades, and do their best to reduce the toll by directing artillery and sharpshooters to spot and eliminate sources of Indonesian fire, particularly the newly-active mortars. Rockets, unsuited for such precise work, rain down further back from the shore once it becomes apparent that the enemy awaits there.

The loss of the second bridge is not so much of a blow as the first, the dream of capturing those river crossings having already been broken. Compared to the intense pressure now being exerted in the main assault, Strainist flanking units feel little need to push too hard in their advance, content to move slowly and preserve their strength, keeping careful watch for MATADORs. Units here do not have access to the stockpiles of thermobaric weapons being funnelled into Aceh and Sulawesi, a fact about which some grumble as they fire against enemy-held structures with more conventional rockets and light mortars.

Amidst the din of machine guns and exploding artillery, loudspeakers blare out propaganda ... throw down your weapons, cease your struggle, bask together in the love of the Party's embrace.

Banjarmasin
While major battles raged on elsewhere in Kalimantan, Strainist forces continued to move slowly eastward from the secured landing zone at Kendawangan. Until the battle for Pontianak was concluded, and the toll at Balikpapan known, Banjarmasin and its immediate surroundings would be safe from massed assault, but forward elements and patrols moved through the jungle terrain on foot and by bicycle, seeking to dislodge Indonesians positioned between them and their eventual objective.

http://img68.imageshack.us/img68/8431/junglerivercrossingvm0.jpg
SRA patrol moving eastward towards Banjarmasin.

Pare-Pare
The Strainists, having broken the Indonesian attack, suffer a psychological struggle in the aftermath. "Pursue, surround, destroy!" shout the commanders of armoured and mechanized contingents, against cries of "Secure, prepare, bombard!" from the artillerists. The Revolutionary Army was not so democratic as its Soviet counterpart, but sufficient leeway exists that the debate slows their response... in the end restraint wins out, if only because the iron has cooled. More aggressive officers bemoan the lack of helicopters and battle tanks in the Sulawesi theatre, doubtless joined by comrades in Borneo and elsewhere, with only the forces arrayed against Aceh able to draw upon such resources in quantity.

Halmahera
Kao sees a flurry of activity as ships and aircraft carry troops from Strainist territories forward to the front line. Heavy equipment is lacking here, as seems to be the case for the SRA across Indonesia, but the standard kit of a Strainist infantryman may itself be excessive given the opposition to be faced here.
Certainly no small number will complain about the weight of additional magazines, long bayonets, water supplies and propaganda posters balanced precariously on their bicycles as they begin to advance further forward along the roads out of Kao.
Here, as always, the crackling of loudspeakers and flutter of loudspeakers declare the inevitability of Indonesian defeat and the glorious future awaiting those who welcome the Party into their hearts.

Balikpapan
No speakers shout the glory of the Party at Sepinggan, posters and leaflets left scattered in the city as the Strainists withdrew towards the airport. With the troops here conserving ammunition and running low on heavy ordnance, the responsibility for making noise had passed into Indonesian hands.

Amongst the officers in the airport, debate raged over what was to come next... surrender, while an embarassment, would save the lives of most of the soldiers here, but some thought the Islamic Guard might use their newfound prisoners as hostages against SRA advances elsewhere, and none wished to become tools of the feudal foe. Continuing the fight would cost the force here dearly, but help would come eventually, and some suggested that the Indonesians would break against sufficient resolve, unwilling to die for victory here when they faced inevitable defeat overall (the counterpoint running that one could hardly expect such deluded soldiers, buoyed by recent success, to recognize the futility of further struggle). But would aid arrive in a day? A week? A month? Eventually there would be no more bullets left, and in the end the sacrifice would change nothing.

Dominated by the Lyongese, the force contained a few who did not see such as a failure... the act of sacrifice in of itself would be commendable, an objective to be strived for and celebrated. Suicide, in the Lyongese tradition, could atone for one's failings, and shout one's righteousness to the world: while only one or two thought of slitting their bellies or swallowing pistol rounds to put fear in the hearts of Kalla's men, a larger minority saw death in battle here as the only way to atone for their failure to win the battle here at Balikpapan.

Aceh

The Achenese capital is well and truly under siege, its 260,000 inhabitants shut-in by Strainist ground and naval forces, who are themselves kept outside the city by Sultan Mansur's forts and trench lines. Things inside Banda Aceh are not exactly desperate, the siege being only a few days old, and, according to military estimates, provisions already inside the city ought to be good for a few weeks at least. Much of the city's population already lives under very difficult circumstances, and, for them, any disruption of barely adequate food supplies is bound to have disastrous consequences, but these urban poor don't entirely figure into Sultan Mansur's preparations. Indeed, many of them had their homes razed in order to make room for the Capital Stop Line, and they have Sultan Mansur to blame for their plight in the first place.

Enemy bombardment causes a fair few casualties amongst the Achenese defenders, who've had little experience of artillery and thus can't discern between different types of guns or shells in the same way that an old campaigner might be able to. Mines are detonated and barbed wire entanglements are blown apart, and two strong points, built fairly recently and under severe budgetary constraints, are demolished along with the greater part of their garrisons. But most of the forts stand up well to Strainist guns and rockets, and sometimes are able to give a little back with tank and destroyer cannons.

Most of the Achenese defenders are not at all eager to leave the protection of their trenches and bunkers, but some of Mansur's personal guards conduct nighttime counter-raids against Strainist lines, aiming to destroy enemy artillery positions and to disrupt any preparations for an attack on the capital's defenses. As is the case for the Strainists themselves such raids are pretty futile, and will almost certainly have no impact on the outcome of the battle. Any one of the soldiers defending Banda Aceh is irreplaceable, and certainly commanders who are caught making raids across the lines are dealt with roughly, but at the same time sitting around all day in a concrete box is hardly conducive to good morale, and raiding at least gives the troops that participate in them a feeling of mobility and activity.

Pontianak

Indonesian troops do their best to halt the Strainist advance in Pontianak's urban landscape, making liberal use of the ubiquitous MATADOR rocket launchers to threaten amphibious armor. Mortars continue to drop fire on the Strainists making their way onto the south bank, but by now most of the mortar crews are either dead, wounded, or on their way out of the town.

The battle was of course lost for the Indonesians the moment the Strainists reached the south bank, and as enemy troops continue to make their way across the Kapuas, Colonel Abdurrahman's severely under-strength force finds itself being pushed-back, steadily and with heavy losses. The Colonel's headquarters itself is no longer very far-removed from the fighting, and staff officers are quick to find their helmets and personal weapons as radio operators shoot their equipment. The volume of radio traffic has of course dropped-off significantly, Indonesian troops eagerly discarding their radios along with other equipment in their hasty retreat.

Indonesians on Pontianak's island are perhaps the most receptive to Strainist propaganda, having seen their escape route blown-up and obviously outnumbered by enemy forces. A few manage to row across to the south bank, but the bulk of Abdurrahman's blocking force surrenders to the Strainists in dribs and drabs, defeated but at the same time relieved to have survived so far.

And in the meantime, far from the main engagement, the armored car detachment continues to engage Strainist hovercraft-borne infantry in an intense and costly firefight. They may have disrupted the enemy's flanking maneuver, but that is a moot point given the inadequacy of the Indonesian defense against even a determined frontal assault. The motorized infantrymen are not kept up to date on events in Pontianak proper, but they are certainly aware of the intense enemy bombardment and the Captain in charge begins to wonder if the time has perhaps come to withdraw.

Banjarmasin

Though pockmarked by shell craters and shattered concrete fortifications, the city of Banjarmasin and the surrounding area remains very much in Indonesian hands. While the bulk of Banjarmasin's garrison remains near the city and the coast, deployed to protect against an expected amphibious landing, a handful of infantrymen are on hand to oppose Strainist patrols. They do their best to mount ambushes and discourage any enemy advance against Banjarmasin, but although they know, more or less, the landscape, they are uniformly poorly-equipped and inadequately supplied.

North of Pare-Pare

Its preemptive attack having petered-out, the Khandaq Regiment falls back to Pinrang, a town on the coastal road about 27 kilometers to the north. The Regimental commander plans to block the Western Column's advance there, in so doing hopefully taking enough out of the Strainist force to make an attack against more heavily-defended Polewali inviable. Of course, quite a lot has been taken out of the Khandaq Regiment itself, and its ability to withstand a determined assault made by a force that is still far larger and better-equipped than itself is questionable.

Halmahera

Resistance around Kao quickly collapses as Strainist troops arrive in greater numbers, the poorly-armed and vastly outnumbered Indonesian auxiliaries being in no mood to challenge the enemy landing parties. Miscommunication early-on in Jailolo's operation to retake Galela led to the Kao airstrip being left almost undefended, and this may well have conspired to nullify any gains Jailolo might have made against enemy forces at the anchorage. With the road home cut, Jailolo's own troops and a handful of regulars take to the interior, intending to hold-out for as long as possible as guerrilla fighters, perhaps using Halmahera's history of inter-communal violence to make things difficult for Strainist occupiers.

Balikpapan

The Indonesian commander at Balikpapan decides to halt his forces temporarily, tired and overstretched as they are from a hard day's fighting. With the Strainists cornered, and with reinforcements apparently not forthcoming, he sees little reason to press forward now when the final attack might be carried-out under what he expects to be more favorable conditions the next morning.

Enemy marines holed-up at Sepinggan are bombarded by Indonesian loudspeakers throughout the night, with inexperienced propagandists proclaiming any number of things and often trying to convert the Strainists to Islam. At one point, the Indonesian commander himself addresses the enemy forces, promising them, sincerely, fair treatment if they choose to surrender. They have fought valiantly, says the Indonesian Colonel, against a far larger enemy force, and, at this stage, surrender ought not bring them any disgrace. Aware of the uniqueness of his achievement, furthermore, the Colonel does not want to do anything that might cause the Strainists to single-him out for special punishment when they return to the Balikpapan area.

Other Indonesian troops go about trying to salvage Strainist equipment while supply convoys make their way south from the base at Samarinda, loaded with ammunition that will doubtless be badly needed should the Strainists not choose to surrender. The Gate Hill position is meanwhile reinforced with a pair of WWII-era 75mm howitzers and another infantry platoon, in the event that the Strainists try to capture it.

[OOC: Didn't post on Aceh as the Strainists aren't taking much action there at this point... unless there's a breakout, I'll post a more general 'over the next few weeks' or somesuch soon, as the besiegers either take a fatal drop in morale or get permission to start lobbling branded ration packets over the stop line. Have a few other things that will happen then, some internal politics as Party cliques do their thing (that in particular I'm feeling a bit rushed about, since it needs to catch up with other RPs and I'm not entirely certain about outcomes), bridges to go up in Pontianak, guerilla raids to pester the occupiers, decades-in-the-making social engineering to implement, etc, but for now there are more immediate battles to resolve].

Pontianak
SRA forces continue to push southward, but the power of the initial mass reduces as they advance: eventuially there are no more amphibious vehicles to join the fight, and the river still cannot be properly bridged until it can be cleared and secured, keeping the arrival of infantry somewhat limited. This also restricts the artillery massed at the river, as the Indonesians move out of range and no crossing is present for their heavy vehicles.

Across the rivers eastward, surrendering Indonesians are gathered together under guard, subject to incessant Party propaganda. Where needed, they may find themselves pressed into duty bearing stretchers northward towards the riverbank, where SRA engineers attempt to raise a temporary bridge across for their heavier vehicles. A camp for POWs has been formed from one of the abandoned resorts south of Singkawang, and transfer there will occur as soon as can be managed.
As may be learned shortly in Balikpapan, the Strainists view surrender as a pact, an agreement to cease all resistance: those who will not submit ought continue to fight. This means that Strainists tend to be obedient prisoners, and that they show no hestitation in gunning down any captured Indonesians who attempt escape.

The hovercraft assault has, at least, accomplished one of its goals... Indonesian patrols and AFVs engaged here will not provide a counterattacking force against the main SRA advance as it crosses the Kapuas and heads southward through the city. Still, the men fighting here have two goals they must still achieve. Optimally, they ought smash resistance here and push onward to hit the flanks of Abdurrahman's force as it falls back from the river. And, the air-cushion craft that had carried them needed protection here, this far from assistance... loss of further hovercraft would not please the bean-counters in Sithin, particularly if they were casualties inflicted by a foe with such limited resources.

Banjarmasin
Poor equipment and inadequate supplies were never desireable for a modern military force, but ammunition crates and battlefield PDAs were no guarantee of success: this was southeast Asia, where in decades past doctors from the Revolutionary Army had watched the rag-tag forces of Ho Chi Minh defeat the best efforts of the Australasians, Roycelandians, and FRB. The latter two had eventually replaced a costly counter-insurgency with a scorched-earth campaign, to no effect, something which had convinced many SRA officers to push for a different course as they planned their Indonesian venture over the past decade. To some of the soldiers around Banjarmasin, however, faced with the terrors inherent to jungle patrols

Pare-Pare
Khandaq will have its batle at Pinrang... as the supply of rockets and shells surpass levels deemed sufficient for their intended operations, the Western Column's engines rumble to life and its vehicles begin to move out. With infantry walking alongside, the advance is not particularly speedy, but the Column is not in a particular rush, and confidence is high.
As they apprach the town, the Indonesians will encounter two new factors in SRA operations. The first is the use of increasing massed artillery fire to strike enemy positions, the artillerists freed from earlier restraint. The second is the presence of helicopters, though not in significant numbers: the double-rotored Kamov models favoured by the SRA serve to attack enemy vehicles with guns and rockets, as well as transport small numbers of troops forward to flank or encircle enemy units.

Halmahera
Consolidation is the first order of business in Kao, as the town and surrounding area are prepared for what is supposed to be a peaceful and prosperous future. Economic improvement is seen as key here... the Malukus have suffered much violence over the course of the past several decades, and Party officials believe that they have isolated the cause: lack of economic opportunities led to antagonism between natives and migrants, between Muslims and Christians, between various ethnic groups. These tensions were exploited first by Bonstock, which favoured minorities, and then by Indonesia, which backed Muslims, each to further their own feudal agendas. The solution? Make everyone rich and make everyone literate.
An ambitious project to be sure, and one that would require the rapid development of local industry, likely financed initially by resource extraction. Halmahera had been a source of gold in its FRB days, along with coconuts and spices. The revitalizing of these efforts, along with exploration of nickel and cobalt reserves thought to be present in quantity, would also be accompanied by development of local agriculture from subsistence towards export to both Lyong and Java, with imported materials coming to supply needed infrastructure. Already, a tower rose to provide signals for cellular telephones and connection to Party computer networks, though likely only SRA soldiers had the equipment to take advantage.

Balikpapan
During the night, the decision is made... surrender cannot be discounted if the force is not to be wiped out. However, darkness provides some opportunity for retreat, and by dawn not all of the SRA's marines will remain at the airport.
In principle, each soldier of the marine infantry ought be capable of swimming out five kilometres, a skill which might still prove of use: the airport grounds border directly on the Makassar Strait, through which the Party's ships can move. Several still do, and more are moved into position over the hours as dusk approaches, some civil vessels freshly emptied from transporting materiel to captured Makassar itself. Some have searchlights, some have helicopters, and all intend to do their best to assist this desperate effort. Some involved acknowledge the parallels to Dunkirk, and that comparison lessens rather than heightens the shame of defeat... the British returned from their disaster to smash the tyrants of Europe, and so too shall the Revolutionary Army be back to free Balikpapan from feudal terror.
Amongst the gadgetry carried by Strainist marine infantry can be found GPS recievers, used to assist in their location in case of naval operations (introduced several years previously after loss of a marine during a submarine-borne landing excercise). If they can swim out far enough, they can be located by satellite despite the vastness of the ocean. Unfortunately, the technology bears a risk: while satellite tracking has been implemented over Lyong, the system over Sujava is incomplete due to disruption of CPRD space-launch capability first by Neo-Suloist isolationism and then Soviet-prompted strikes on military satellites. Thus, the units currently employed remain the same as the civilian counterparts found in Lyongese cellphones, making use of the civilian signal from the USQ's Navstar GPS network. Nominally accurate to under 10 metres, the Strainists are well aware that the Quinntonians could shut down the signal or, perhaps worse, alter it to deliver false information. Still, options are limited and the risk is deemed acceptable. Washington might not move to strike down the Holy League, and surely they would pursue the same neutrality here, particularly given that the marines here were in such dire circumstances as available support had instead poured into northern Sulawesi to save the Christian population there from genocide.

Everything save the aforementioned GPS devices is deemed excess weight for those who will have to spend an unknown quantity of time treading water and hoping for help. Remaining equipment, from rifles to radios to boots and helmets are gathered up to be burned with what remaining aviation fuel could be located in the airport itself. The area is also searched thoroughly for anything that could be used as a flotation device, but while rafts might be constructed from some materials there simply isn't time... there will not likely be another opportunity to accomplish the retreat.

Of course, of the soldiers who first embarked on this disastrous effort, not all will have even this chance at escape. Six hundred made the initial foray, reinforced by eight hundred more, but the toll from fighting has been hard, and there were bodies to prove it: almost two hundred were dead and as many bore wounds which prevented their retreat by sea. For these, there was little choice but surrender.

The overall commander of the marines, colonel Rosh Shangchan, opts to remain behind with a platoon of volunteers, to hold the line during the evacuation attempt. Two more platoons are formed from further volunteers, to move out between the main airport and the coast to hold the flanks as their comrades hurry to the water unburdened by armaments.Once the retreating troops have passed, these will attempt to disperse northward into the jungle, hopefully able to gather intelligence and harry the Indonesians.
The wounded and their guardians, when dawn arrives, will be left to light the piles of equipment aflame and raise the white flag to negotiate their surrender.

Pontianak

The pace of the Indonesian withdrawal slackens somewhat, proportional to any loss of momentum on the Strainists' part, and where enemy troops are not pursuing them too closely, Abdurrahman's men do their best to turn their rout into something approaching an orderly retreat. But a retreat it remains, and, no matter how long the Strainists take in getting the full body of their forces across, they will, barring some sort of miracle, win the battle. Indonesian losses have already become so great as to rule-out a counterattack, and the only viable course of action, as far as Abdurrahman is concerned, is the abandonment of the city. It is not long, then, before infantrymen, traveling on foot or aboard commandeered civilian vehicles, appear on the unfinished highway heading east out if Pontianak.

Scattered pockets of resistance will likely present difficulties for the near future, sections cut-off in fortified buildings or left behind in the hurried retreat, but Indonesian defeat in the battle for Pontianak is all but certain.

Pinrang

Soldiers of the Khandaq Regiment, having been sent on the attack just a day earlier, now find themselves digging foxholes and preparing defensive some 27 kilometers to the north, in Pinrang. Several Indonesian staff officers are keen to point out that the town of Pabetangan, just north of the Sadang River, and at the foot of mountainous Central Sulawesi, is likely a better position for the regiment, but the regimental commander is adamant that the Strainists be stopped some time before then. He considers it likely that the Western Column suffered significant losses in the battle for Pare-Pare, at least as significant as his own, and is also less than convinced that the motor transport available can move his men across the Sadang before the Strainists catch up with him.

Indonesian infantrymen jump into their foxholes as Strainist shells and rockets whistle overhead. The bulk of the Khandaq Regiment's personnel have never been under heavy bombardment before, and it is a nerve-racking experience, even if, by world standards, the fire is not especially heavy. Camouflaged NDL-40s do their best to return fire, but a lack of good artillery detection equipment means that the best that the rocketeers can do is approximate.

Pinrang does not offer a defender very much in the way of elevation or natural obstacles besides a series of irrigation channels and groves. Indonesian infantry companies are deployed along these in three layers, providing slight defense-in-depth, with recoilless rifle positions scattered throughout in order to counter any Strainist tanks that present themselves as targets. On the main road itself, two lanes until it reaches central Pinrang, MATADOR sections are concealed in homes and vegetation, ordered to lay low until bypassed by enemy tanks and armored vehicles. There are still a fair few RBS-70 posts on hand to cause trouble for Strainist helicopters, and these are deployed primarily to protect infantry positions against aerial attack. Several SAM sections, though, are deployed to the rear, in order to discourage helicopter-borne flanking operations.

(OCC: Google earth has a good picture of Pinrang, and I'll try to make something up on Paint that shows the rough layout of the Indonesian regiment.)

Balikpapan

Lacking in the way of night vision equipment and radar, the Indonesians at Balikpapan are quite unaware of Strainist evacuation efforts. The sighting of lights out to sea prompts most Indonesian infantrymen to find their foxholes, in expectation of a naval bombardment, or, much worse, an amphibious landing to reinforce the beleaguered marines at Sepinggan. It is therefore a very tense night, and most Indonesian soldiers receive very little sleep.

At first light, the two 75mm pack howitzers on Gate Hill open up on the airport in a rather pathetic imitation of an artillery bombardment, while, on the outskirts of Balikpapan town, a troop of Saladins advances upon the airport perimeter, lines of infantry not far behind. Indonesians do not take long to realize the fact that the greater part of the Strainist forces are no longer present, highly disappointing after the previous days' bitter struggle. Under strict orders from the commanding Colonel, Indonesian troops treat surrendered Strainists perhaps unexpectedly well, and Indonesian medical orderlies are made available to treat the enemy wounded.

Colonel Yurnalis, the commander of Indonesian regular forces in the Samarinda-Balikpapan area, and once a lieutenant in the Bonstockian army, arrives at Sepinggan aboard one of the relatively few UH-1s that made it through the battle. He certainly looks the part, between his mustache and his aviator sunglasses, though, when it comes to strategic-level operations, Yurnalis has next to no training or experience. Quite aware that the Strainists will be back, sooner or later, in Balikpapan, he would prefer to avoid any incidents that might cause him or those under his command to be singled-out for special punishment. Yurnalis personally sees to it that enemy captives are not abused, and discusses with colonel Rosh the possibility of evacuating Strainist wounded through a neutral third power.

The Ridda and Hira Regiments have, between them, close to 7,500 troops in Balikpapan and Samarinda, plus a handful of operable Hawk attack-trainers. It is a force with limited mobility but at the same time one in excess of brigade strength, the likes of which ought to prove a considerable obstacle to any Strainist efforts aimed at re-establishing a presence in the eastern part of central Kalimantan. Indonesian infantrymen immediately go about mining the landing beaches used by the Strainist marines in their assault, and several machine gun and mortar nests are built there as well. Balikpapan's defenses are strengthened, as are Samarinda's, and construction of a small bunker complex on top of Gate Hill begins. Colonel Yurnalis may accept the inevitability of Strainist victory in Indonesia, but he is not about to roll over, not just yet anyway.

South of Tarakan

Under the cover of darkness, a small convoy of motor-barges and armed motorboats makes its way along the coast just to the south of Tarakan Island. They are manned by members of the Ridda Regiment, and a company of infantrymen from that same regiment are carried aboard, sharing space with food and munitions. Hopefully, between the moonless night and their proximity to the coast, the ships of the Indonesian supply convoy will be invisible to Strainist radar. If they are attacked, after all, the Indonesians don't have much to defend themselves with, and even a small minesweeper or patrol boat could probably devastate the formation.

Moving slow, necessary due to the ten knots or so attainable by the coastal barges, the men aboard the convoy watch as Tarakan, silhouetted by starlight, grows larger and larger. There is much apprehension, as the Indonesians are also quite aware of the fact that a force of Strainist infantry occupies Tarakan Town and much of the island as a whole, and these, they expect, will be supported by at least some warships. By slinking in and out of coastal channels, and sticking to shallow waters, the Indonesians plan to avoid such threats, but nobody quite knows whether the enemy has handed scouts on the mainland, the likes of which might report the quiet, but by no means absolutely silent supply convoy.

West of Banjarmasin

The first shots of the land campaign for Banjarmasin are doubtless fired in the coastal marshland just west of Banjarmasin, between the rivers Katingan and Kahayan. Just as Strainist patrols attempt to probe Banjarmasin's defenses, Indonesian infantry go the other way, in an effort to determine the whereabouts of the enemy troops that had landed in Kendawangan. Close-range encounters, ambush and counter-ambush, likely characterize combat in the cluttered terrain, the high reeds and thick jungle and waist-deep mud and water. The Indonesians, most of them, anyway, are certainly not experts in that kind of fighting, and the learning curve is quite steep. Indiscipline and inattention scatters several Indonesian patrols throughout the forest, infantrymen running for their lives after walking into an ambush or having their smashed. Their lack of equipment, though, may confer certain advantages in jungle fighting, in stealth and ease of movement through the thick undergrowth, and an Indonesian carrying only a rifle and an ammunition bandoleer might find it easier to move through deep water than a Strainist trooper with a more complete personal kit.

Malnutrition, however, could easily become a major problem for Indonesians fighting in the marshes, and the evacuation of wounded personnel is already an extremely difficult and uncertain affair.

(OCC: I must apologize for the extreme lateness of this post, which is due to nothing more than plain laziness on my part.)

Pontianak

The Strainist offensive, potent though it may be, is slowed by the realities of urban fighting… pockets of resistance must be surrounded and dealt with, streets must be navigated with caution, and civilians must be presented with the propaganda of liberation and SRA nobility. It is, however, not many hours before the Revolutionary Army declares their victory in the battle, and soldiers find themselves in transition from combat to policework and public relations.

It may be some time before the mechanized components of the Strainist advance are ready to begin pursuit of retreating Indonesian forces, but Abdurrahman is not left completely to his own devices. A squadron of Sukhoi fighters out of Sumatra is in place to strike at the enemy once they are well free of city buildings, employing laser-guided ordnance rather than the older dumb bombs employed thus far in most SRA airstrikes. The aircraft are cautious, which likely costs them in terms of accuracy, releasing their weapons from some 10 kilometres out, but with almost a hundred 500kg bombs released there ought be sufficient impact to bloody the already-shaken Indonesians.

Sustained bombing will have to wait, with the first squadron departing after its payload has been emptied, and arrival of another not due for another two hours. By that time, mobile ground forces may be heading out of the city in pursuit, and the remaining Indonesians will have likely had an opportunity to regroup.

Pinrang

The Strainist forward detachment pushing towards Pinrang can claim to stand at battalion strength, though patched together somewhat with units detached from other formations as well as the remainder of the armour available on Sulawesi. These forces are relatively fresh, having made up the rear component during the earlier battle, and morale is high: their enemy has thus far presented a textbook case, which is an excellent source of confidence… when under attack, SRA doctrine seeks to bloody an enemy with deep defence until it is forced to retreat, after which reserve troops thrust forward to wipe them out. SRA tankers, though, are less buoyed by recent events, tired from participation in the earlier engagement and painfully aware that Khandaq anti-tank weapons are quite capable of defeating their vehicles, designed over a half-century ago, even with later-added ‘spaced armour’. The Type 55s thus fall into the role once played by IJA light tanks when the Strainist Revolution swept Lyong: mobile pillboxes within formations of infantry, deprived of their speed and mobility in exchange for the protection offered by foot troops on the flanks. Those troops, however, do not hug close to their armoured companions as their Revolutionary predecessors once did… the presence of explosive reactive armour informs that close proximity might be unwise. Wether the infantry will keep this danger in mind during the excitement of combat remains to be seen.
http://img176.imageshack.us/img176/1402/sraadvancefrompareparetd5.jpg
SRA forces advance towards Pinrang

Balikpapan

Colonel Rosh greets his opposite Yurnalis in typical Lyongese fashion, with a bow and a request for an Indonesian surrender. Almost certainly declined, the colonel then apologizes for having failed to present sufficient argument, and expresses hope that their minds might be changed at a later date… until then, he and his men surrender themselves to Indonesian authority.
The act is sealed by the handover of Rosh’s sword, and a list of two names: soldiers who have requested the right to suicide rather than capture. It will soon become clear that the Lyongese expect this act to be carried out by Yurnalis’ men… keishishi, suicide by execution.

The remainder of the surrendered Strainists will prove to be remarkably well behaved, and wholly obedient to the dictates of their captors. To the Lyongese, surrender sacrifices one’s right to resist, and if one holds thoughts of escape then one ought simply not surrender… after capitulation, any act of resistance is a request for keishishi, and ought be treated as such. Likely, those Indonesians able to think through the consequences of this attitude may gain new motivation to avoid surrender themselves.

Out in the Makassar Strait, the night rescue operation has gone according to plan, at least so far as such things can… despite exhaustive efforts, a few marine infantry remain unaccounted for as the flotilla returns to Makassar with its weary cargo. It will be some time before these men are rested and ready for combat again, and likely some time further before they recover psychologically from this significant failure.

South of Tarakan

The Indonesians will succeed in their movements, the Strainist observation net not yet so tight around Borneo’s north. Two frigates are present near to Tarakan, but these are placed to the East, watching the Strait for imperialists and Kalla’s Abu Sayaf allies out of the Philippines.

Near Pontianak

Strainist air strikes inflict further casualties upon Indonesian forces retreating towards Kalimantan's mountainous interior. Any losses in infantrymen are serious, given the state of Abdurrahman's force after the predictably disastrous engagement in Pontianak itself, and the remainder of the mechanized company is almost entirely wiped-out. Of course, where the Indonesians are retreating to, armored cars probably won't be of much use anyway.

The Indonesian force, worn-down beforehand by several days of intense and unrelenting warfare, comes out of Pontianak with only a little more than half of what it had at the start of the battle. Most of the 1,700 or so survivors are reservists, who were quicker to abandon their positions than the regular troops and thus avoided being surrounded or overrun. Poorly-equipped and, as already demonstrated, ill-accustomed to conventional warfare, the Indonesian survivors will in all likelihood take to guerrilla fighting within the next few weeks, unable and unwilling to take-on the Strainists in another set-piece battle.

Pinrang

The Strainist spearhead will find itself facing a similarly-sized Indonesian contingent, itself having not participated in the abortive attack on Pare-Pare. Its six companies occupy a line almost 20 kilometers in length, roughly spanning the space between coastal marshland and Lake Sidenreng's associated swamps, and straddling the paved road that links Pinrang and Pare-Pare. These troops are deployed along the main irrigation canals, natural obstacles that will hopefully serve to delay the Strainist advance and to channel enemy armor at the relatively few road causeways and bridges. Of course, Spyrian Type 55s may well be able to ford the channels, and as gunnery platforms they will doubtless prove lethal before the question of crossing water obstacles is raised.

Two more battalions are deployed directly behind this line, giving it something approaching depth, and charged with stopping-up any gaps that enemy infantry manages to create. These are not fresh formations, and, between the previous day's engagement and Strainist bombardment, they are noticeably under-strength. The Khandaq Regiment's last two maneuver battalions, the vanguard in the assault for Pare-Pare, are deployed as the reserve, severely under-strength and worn out, but perhaps capable of deciding a closely-contested engagement in the Indonesians' favor.

Strainist troops advancing towards Pinrang first come under Indonesian mortar fire, not heavy but fairly accurate, the likes of which will hopefully sap some of the enemy's momentum. Forward-deployed machine gun nests also open-up on the advancing infantry with heavy Browning M2s, though these are few and far between. Once within about 3,500 meters of the main Indonesian line, the Strainist tanks are fired-upon by Indonesian M40 recoilless rifles, elderly weapons but maybe capable of penetrating enemy armor with their fairly large projectiles. These weapons are distributed fairly evenly down the line, so Strainist tanks in any given area are probably only faced with one or two, or sometimes none at all.

Balikpapan

Indonesian troops at Balikpapan are quite pleased with the Strainists' attitude since, given the state of the prisoner facilities available, escape would not be an especially impressive feat. Until better facilities are prepared, Strainist prisoners are held in several abandoned hangars at Sepinggan Airport, well-provisioned and guarded rather lightly. Colonel Yurnalis reluctantly agrees to allow the two Strainist marines so inclined their requested execution, ultimately performed by firing squad, but the Indonesians are otherwise content to leave the Strainists alone and are not especially harsh or abusive.

Expecting another enemy operation against Balikpapan, Colonel Yurnalis' force goes about strengthening its defenses. New minefields are laid, both on land and offshore, and likely landing beaches are assigned battalion-sized garrisons. Indonesian troops are determined not to be caught off-guard a second time, and, should an enemy formation make another attempt on Balikpapan, it will meet altogether more determined and coordinated opposition.

Tarakan

The handful of Indonesian troops still occupying positions in the highlands of Tarakan receive provisions for several more weeks of fighting and reinforcements, though not nearly enough to allow for serious offensive activity. Still holding important positions, overlooking Tarakan's airstrip, the Indonesians will hold on until provisions run out or until the enemy pushes them off.

[OOC: Sorry to skip over quite a bit here... the remainder will likely be a matter of long-term posts which I hope to get out soon, but Pinrang is a more immediate event].

Pinrang

Pinrang will be quite a battle to observe, both for the combatants and any holding an interest in the conventional operations of the Revolutionary Army... the Khandaq regiment was mustering a capable defense in-depth, with bolstering reserves, in a fashion similar (if perhaps somewhat less potent) to the Strainists' own earlier defense.
The Indonesians will face an attack which is also somewhat standard, albeit reduced from an optimal state by the realities of war. The SRA's forward detachment will advance into the enemy with the hope of breaking through, after which further formations in reserve will move forward. Terrain, and the difficulty moving heavy armour around the Indonesian archipelago, means that foot infantry will bear the bulk of responsibility in the operation, and outside of urban terrain the so-far-successful thermobaric weapons upon which they rely will not quite be so devastating as has been the case up until this point: still, they will be employed against enemy emplacements, where they ought achieve the objective well enough. Certainly, no one planning operations expects infantry squads to try and overcome .50 caliber fire with squad machine guns and assault rifles. Armoured support is a more efficient solution, but even prepared for fording the SRA's tanks are limited when it comes to crossing narrow irrigation ditches not quite wide enough for the tank to move down and then back up the banks. There are portable bridges, but most are carried by infantry: only two armoured bridging vehicles are available to accompany the battle tanks due to shipping delays at port in Makassar... the infantry may be left on their own eventually as the attack moves further forward. M40s are also a concern, as even if the SRA's attempts at spaced armour might assist against 105mm HEAT rounds impacting on the frontal arc, strikes to the side or rear are far more likely to be effective.

Strainist helicopters are few in number and held back due to concerns over enemy air defense missiles, but the SRA's bolstered Su-35 variants are able to approach with greater confidence, employing both dumb and laser guided munitions. Amidst the fields, there is less concern about civilian presence, and so bombing is indiscriminate at times, hitting in the vicinity of anything that looks like a potential enemy emplacement. The future of warfare may lie with precision-targeted munitions, but both Lyong and Bonstock each have a half-century of stockpiled bombs to retire, and most prefer to do so in battle than in a trash heap.

Strainist artillery units, their counterbattery radar alongside, provide an initial hail of fire as the forward detachment commences the assault, releasing a rain of high-explosive rockets along the Indonesian line where Strainist companies prepare to make their push. After this, their role becomes one of neutralizing enemy artillery, expected to be little more than mortars and NDL-40s, as well as providing smoke to supplement that from infantry and vehicle launchers... the SRA is used to operating under conditions of reduced visibility, and it is hoped the Indonesians will be forced to guess as they fire their heavy machine guns and recoilless rifles, betraying their own positions without scoring hits.

(OCC: Indeed, the battles in Balikpapan and Pinrang are taking place days after the invasion itself. Once the Indonesians are forced out of Southwest Sulawesi, events are apt to take more time to be resolved.)

Pinrang

The Khandaq Regiment takes heavy losses from enemy artillery. Having occupied its present positions for not much more than a day, the Indonesians did not have time to dig themselves in too deeply, and the best most of them can do is hunker down in their foxholes and hope for the best. Several reserve companies, deployed under cover some distance to the rear, are ordered up to the front line in order to reinforce units especially badly hurt by the barrage, so that there are no especially weak points along the outer defensive line. Of course, being 20 kilometers long and defended by a single battalion, the Indonesian line is not so much meant to hold the enemy advance as it is to delay and channel the Strainists, who will, ideally, be dealt with definitively by the four battalions being held in reserve.

Strainist armor succeeds in silencing many heavy machine gun positions, and recoilless rifle fire, at least at first, is largely inaccurate and probably unlikely to penetrate the enemy's spaced armor. The Khandaq regiment's five TOW launchers may prove more worrisome for the Strainists, but these are being held in reserve and ammunition is limited to two or three missiles per post. NDL-40s open up on advancing infantry, firing single salvos before retreating, hopefully before Strainist counterbattery fire. Lacking functional artillery locating radars of their own, the Indonesian gunners can't do very much against enemy batteries, and they try to make it as hard as possible for enemy guns to hit them. Many NDL-40s are still lost at the hands of Spyrian fighters, which won't have too much trouble spotting the launchers moving through the mostly open terrain. With the laying of a smoke screen, things become a good deal more complicated for the Indonesians. Recoilless rifle fire stops entirely, though M2s continue to pour rounds in the direction of the enemy, in the hopes of hitting something. The front-line infantry, however, does a good job of holding its fire, and Indonesian troops remain largely concealed in their slit trenches and foxholes until the Strainist infantry comes within about 300 meters, reliable rifle and LMG range.

At that point, the surviving men of the battalion engage the advancing Strainists in their sector with personal weapons, mainly the ubiquitous M-16 and the Ultimax, while surviving armor will be dealt-with by MATADOR rocket launchers and close-range recoilless rifle fire. M40 crews are quick to concentrate their efforts against whatever armored bridging units are in range. Resistance is determined and coordinated along the whole line, the Indonesian soldiers being aware that this is probably their last chance to stop the Strainists, but the outer line at least is thin and brittle. But whatever spearheads manage to cross the irrigation ditches, the Indonesian colonel means to chop-off with his two battalions held in immediate reserve, provided of course they aren't pinned-down by artillery fire or aerial bombardment. The thousand or so infantrymen that make up that part of the force wait under whatever cover they can find, hoping that enemy artillery doesn't find them before they get a chance to participate in the battle.

The fight at Pinrang looks, like most of the battles resulting from the Strainist campaign so far, to be a fierce and brutal engagement, and perhaps one of the more closely-contested, if the Khandaq Regiment's plans work out.

Pinrang

The battle at Pinrang will, there is little doubt, exact a heavy toll in Strainist blood no matter the outcome. The Indonesians will quickly be able to determine just where breakthroughs are likely to occur, given Strainist tendency to concentrate forces rather than engage the entire defensive line at once. In principle, once the enemy line has been pierced, troops will turn left and right to flank remaining defenders while reserve battalions push to eliminate retreating Indonesians. Given the presence of enemy reserves, however, the first success (easy as it might be) will result only in the start of the battle's heaviest fighting.

At 300 metres, in open terrain, the differences in training and equipment between Indonesians and Strainists become far less significant... firefights here will be the most intense, and the most costly, of the engagement. Strainist light mortars, and their own NDL-40s, are sometimes available to provide a barrage at longer range, in hopes of whittling down the enemy before the advance must continue, and the USSR-influenced presence of marksmen weapons at the squad level means that SRA troops may be able to start firing first, but both require that enemy presence be spotted: something hardly certain despite the best efforts of those on the ground.

Strainist artillery stands ready to hit Indonesian forces which move to reinforce buckling sections of their defense... reserves are a far easier target than the thin ribbon of defenders snaking along the irrigation ditches... but commanders do not commit to heavy bombardment just yet. Conventional SRA wisdom holds that the artiller bombardment ought saturate enemy forces in preparation for an advance on the ground, and along with a continuing desire to keep significant ammunition back for future operations, this means that the first move continues to rest in the hands of the Khandaq.

http://img341.imageshack.us/img341/5537/pinrangpaddyattackjs8.jpg
SRA infantry advancing over the fields around Pinrang.

Lyong & Sujava

The Strainist world might claim a certain degree of unity... one Party, one ideology, and the like. But, however some might wish it, it was not the Combine: Strainism was a constitution, membership was citizenship, and within that framework there was room for a variety of perspectives. Imperial war in Africa, coupled with ripples from crisis in the Phillipines and a decade of Mohammed Kalla cast in the role of feudal enemy, had allowed the Party's more militant factions to push through approval for war in Indonesia, but with the appearance of setbacks came grounds for those in opposition to make themselves known. While some media published glowing descriptions of victories, and the heroic rescue at Balikpapan, others decried that rescue as a desperate measure made neccessary by poor planning and blindered thinking, and those few who protested war on principle (normally viewed poorly due to the ideology's opinion on the neccessity of revolutionary confrontation) were joined by others who, for various reasons, opposed THIS war. A brawl in the Party Congress sends two to hospital... not unusual in Strainist politics, but far different to the comparatively demure vote on launching the campaign seen scant weeks before.

To a careful observer, lines of division could be seen... Party bureaucrats, pushed aside by the more radical membership of the Revolutionary Army due to the perception in recent years of an expansionist feudal danger, leapt upon SRA failures like sharks to blood. Wealthier Lyongese, with more to lose, leaned more towards peaceful ends than Sujavans, with more to gain from Indonesia's absorption. Export collectives called for rapproachment with the Euro-Americans and keeping the economy free of 'excessive burdens', while enterprises servicing military and construction needs seemed far more ready to call ouster of Kalla a 'revolutionary duty'.

Differences within the Party were not new... ever since its founding, it had been home to deep divisions, some of which continued into the present. Ultimately, order was maintained through democratic institutions and ideological guidance from the Party Chairman. The 77-year-old daisu, however, was currently taking a 'convalescent retreat' in the Lyongese mountains, and the rest of the Central Committee remained too divided to provide clarity: until his return, the original statement that the Party ought undertake 'revolutionary action to end the evils of Mohammed Kalla and his feudal peers,' could be used to justify the stance of both sides in the debate.

Pinrang

The Strainists succeed in breaking the Khandaq line in several locations, wherever multiple companies are committed to the assault. Already worn-down by bombardment, and, as usual, lacking in the way of ammunition, Indonesian units covering sectors singled-out for a breakthrough are overrun and forced into a panicked retreat. Almost immediately, though, Indonesian mortar fire is directed against the Strainist crossings, along with several salvos from the dwindling number of NDL-40s. Intact Indonesian positions, eager to avoid being flanked, also shift their fire to target the Strainist crossings.

At that point the first group of Indonesian reserves are thrown into the fight. Two full battalions of infantrymen break cover and cross the several hundred meters separating their own prepared positions and the first line of defenses. Considerable losses are suffered from Strainist artillery, with the Indonesians advancing as they are across largely open ground, the likes of which provides little cover against enemy shellfire, but the attack continues in the face of it, morale and enthusiasm being higher amongst the Khandaq troopers than is usually the case.

By ordering his reserves into the attack, the Indonesian colonel hopes to trap and destroy the Strainist vanguard on the north side of the irrigation ditches, smothering it with superior numbers before the Strainists can properly exploit their successful breeching of the Indonesian outer defenses. Hopefully, there will be enough Strainists across the ditches to make the commitment of whole battalions worthwhile, but not so many as to stand a good chance of defeating the counterattack altogether. With the enemy's main avenues of attack identified, or so it seems to the regimental commander, he can focus his first batch of reserves there and plug-up the holes, giving the follow-on attackers more than just a spread-out company or two to contend with.

And there are still two more battalions in reserve, the likes of which aren't likely to be committed until a larger part of the Western Column joins the battle, and until the Indonesians are forced to withdraw from their outer defensive line.

Pinrang
As the number of enemy troops on the move becomes apparent, the SRA’s commanders order intensification of the artillery bombardment, hoping to disrupt the Indonesian advance and ease pressure on their forward detachment. Two reserve battalions are also committed, the third held back to defend the artillery and await the arrival of remaining Western Column forces. One of the reserve units, a mechanized battalion, has the speed to outpace the foot- and bicycle-mounted force accompanying it, but they will likely not arrive until after Khandaq reserves have joined the battle... the terrain between them, though cleared of Indonesian defenders, remains difficult ground to cross with any significant speed.

The commander of the battalion which has forced its way through Indonesian lines is also aware of that difficulty, and is quick to note that it limits his options. By standard SRA doctrine, his breakthrough will be rewarded with reinforcement, but his men now face double their number of fresh Indonesian troops. Attempting to advance further is out of the question until his units are bolstered, and a withdrawal to meet up with inbound reserves would likely see his men torn apart as they tried to flee over dykes and irrigation channels. With little other choice, he gives the order to consolidate and take cover in order to receive the incoming attack.
The commander has some reason for confidence… his men may be tired, but they are certainly better-equipped than their enemies, and perhaps better-trained. It may not be enough to allow his battalion to overcome two in opposition, but it can be hoped it will be sufficient to see them hold the line until fresh comrades join them. Hoping to bloody the Indonesians as much as possible, the Strainists make every attempt to set up their squad machine guns, marksmen, and light mortars so they might open fire once the Khandaq soldiers come into range, but before the enemy can respond with rifle fire or set up its own longer-ranged weapons.
http://img82.imageshack.us/img82/6409/pinrangjune191100amht8.gif

Pinrang

The Khandaq Regiment's counterattack is sapped of more than a little bit of its strength by Strainist bombardment, intensified and concentrated against the two battalions of infantry advancing over what is essentially open ground. Little forward progress is made as companies shelter behind low earthen embankments, officers often vainly urging their men forward with the observation that, the closer they are to the enemy, the more difficult it will be for the enemy to direct effective artillery fire. Slower than was previously the case, and with the infantry often halting to take cover from artillery fire, the counterattack continues, but not much ground is covered before enemy small-arms fire stops the Indonesians in their tracks.

Heavy fire is offered in reply, but it is as of yet probably insufficient to force an enemy withdrawal, leaving the two Indonesian battalions in a position dangerously exposed to both small arms and artillery fire. Doubtless further losses will be taken before any headway is made, if at all.

Indonesian mortars, mostly 81mm and 60mm weapons but with a few heavy 120mm pieces in attendance, are directed against the Strainist spearhead battalion in an effort to further weaken its position, not quite equal to enemy field guns and MRLs but better than nothing at all and a good deal more accurate than recoilless rifle fire. NDL-40s, the relatively few that remain, are dedicated to counterbattery work, a job made quite difficult by the Indonesians' distinct lack of artillery-locating radar systems, but absolutely necessary just the same.

Mortar crews are, after a short bombardment, ordered to lay a smokescreen in front of the counterattacking battalions in an effort to make it easier for the Indonesian troops to close with their Strainist opponents. It is not by any stretch of the imagination up to Strainist standards, but the smoke screen may yet, it is thought, prove sufficient to disorient the target enemy battalion. When the smoke fills to the Indonesians' liking, the infantry companies, noticeably reduced in strength from prolonged exposure to enemy artillery, press forward, suppressing Strainist-occupied positions with grenades and automatic gunfire. It is an unusually fierce and determined attack, driven in no small part by the desperate need to get out from under bombardment, but heavy losses have already been taken and the likelihood of the counterattack's success is questionable.

Polewali

Further to the north, the Caliph Regiment works feverishly to prepare the regency capital for the Western Column's expected assault. By far the best-off out of all the Indonesian regiments on Sulawesi, the Caliph Regiment can still muster close to 7,500 well-armed personnel, the most of whom are in good spirits and trained no worse than any other Islamic Guard regular. The terrain around Polewali offers further advantages, with the Makassar Strait on one side and steep foothills on the other. For armor and mechanized units, at least as far as the Indonesian commander can see, the only viable route of approach is straight ahead, and the main road is covered by, besides the usual recoilless rifles and MATADOR teams, several TOW systems. The lack of good roads in Sulawesi's central highlands also lessens the chances of being flanked by elements of the Eastern Column.

Fighting in Pinrang serves, in Indonesian strategy, mainly to buy time for the Caliph Regiment and its fortification efforts. If all goes well, the Khandaq Regiment will wear-down the Western Column to such a degree that the Strainists find it impossible to punch their way through the Polewali position. Granted, the road that passes through Polewali is not the only one available to the Western Column if it plans to move into the central part of Sulawesi, and it isn't the only one that ends up in Palu, one the larger cities in Sulawesi still under the IRI's control. It does, however, run along the coast for its entire length, and it is thought that the Strainists will prefer to keep near the sea, where naval support might be brought to bear and where resupply will doubtless be a far more straightforward proposition.

Infantrymen work around the clock to prepare strong positions along the enemy's likely lines of approach, digging foxholes, stringing barbed wire, and clearing fields of fire. Though the fight for Polewali is likely to be one of the last major set-piece battles in the Sulawesi campaign, the Indonesian commanders are determined to make it as difficult as the others, hopefully more so.

http://img172.imageshack.us/img172/9458/00garudatitlebarmq9.gif
Pinrang
The deployment of an enemy smokescreen is troubling for Strainist troops, particularly if it contains more complex measures to counter thermal imaging or laser target designation... while the arsenals of the former FRB did not have high demand for such complex measures, they were more than capable of producing such devices, and Kalla's stockpiles had been supplemented by Hudecian equipment, which placed a much higher priority on countering against modern weaponry. The SRA's soldiers are trained for fighting at night and in low visibility, but the day's operations have seen them leave behind some of the equipment for such fighting, in order to lighten their often-heavy loads... unlike the soldiers of the allied Combine, the SRA does not approach every engagement assuming the field will be flooded with obscuring gases.

With their own soldiers entrenched, the best response the SRA can muster is to pull its artillery bombardment back towards its own line, using the smoke to assist in aiming under the assumption that the enemy will make its apprach through the obscuring clouds. The tactic cannot be kept up for very long, as even knowing their own men are not advancing into the line of fire, the Indonesians will soon be too close for comfort. Machine guns also spray fire into the smoke where movement is detected, while Strainist riflemen affix their distinctive long bayonets and await the arrival of the enemy.

Polewali
Strainist observers, gathering intelligence from satellite photograps and aircraft, are not too concerned with the buildup of defences around the city... there was a reason they delayed their advance to bolster the Western Column's stockpiles of artillery shells and rockets. Of greater interest is the civil populace in the area: unlike commanders in Aceh, SRA officers in Sulawesi do not easily dismiss the deaths of noncombatants as a neccessity of expedient operations, and are hoping that the civil population has begun to vacate the region.

Palopo
While the Western Column fights its battle at Pinrang, its Eastern counterpart continues to push onward from its victory at Palopo, in hopes of bringing retreating Indonesian forces to battle before they can disperse into the mountainous interior. Already delayed, and prevented from flanking by a lack of parallel roadways, the force will not likely catch its quarry unless the Indonesians suffer some form of ill-luck, or the SRA aircraft who pepper the roads ahead of the enemy do significant damage. Still, if the Indonesians hope to keep their head start and succeed in their withdrawal, they will not likely afford the delay it would take to carry their heavier equipment into Sulawesi's mountains, and abandonment of materiel by the enemy would be a welcome consolation prize for Eastern Column commanders frustrated in their attempt to force a set-piece battle.

[OOC:

Finally poked around and got a satellite image of Pinrang et environs... gross oversimplification aside, initial guesswork seems a passable approximation.

http://img172.imageshack.us/img172/8114/pinrangcomparisonkj4.gif

I'm also wondering at the nature of the paddies and irrigation ditches. The region, at the time of the battle, is in the middle of its dry season (Apr - Oct), so water may not be as large an obstacle as it otherwise might have been?
I had worried about long term consequences from trampling seedlings and causing harvest shortfalls by fighting on agricultural land, but here at least there should be a few months to clean things up before the rice planting gets underway].

(OCC: Indeed, the whole monsoon cycle is something that I completely overlooked, and no doubt those irrigation canals would be running pretty low that time of year. It seems entirely fair to say that Strainist forces will have a far easier time advancing against the Indonesians across the ground outside Pinrang, and probably Strainist armor will also find the going significantly easier. The map of Pinrang looks good to me, as good as any Google Earth satellite photo anyway, though those bridges are probably a lot less important now.

It all looks good to me. One other point: I think that I misrepresented the defensive works around Aceh, which don't seem likely to be as formidable as I may have made them out to be. There's probably a fairly solid line of trenches ringing the city, with minefields and barbed wire entanglements, with bunkers and strong points interspersed at high points along the line's length. I don't think Sultan Mansur could have quite afforded what I posted before.)

Pinrang

Indonesian troops break cover and rush Strainist positions through the smoke screen as best they can, though, by the time the counterattacking battalions are close enough to do this, their local numerical advantage is not nearly as pronounced as it once was. Enemy bombardment succeeds in taking a large chunk out of the Indonesian battalions, and losses amongst those formations already approach figures from the previous day's fighting around Pare-Pare. If the Khandaq Regiment does not succeed in destroying the Strainist spearhead now it won't likely have another opportunity, and the initiative will pass to the enemy. The two battalions being held in reserve, badly mauled at Pare-Pare, are some distance to the rear and out of immediate contact with the enemy and nobody is about to risk needless exposure to Strainist artillery with another, much further, advance across open ground.

Firing their automatic weapons and hurling grenades, the Indonesians rush forward into the Strainist positions, though it soon becomes apparent that they aren't nearly as prepared for close combat as their adversaries. Bayonets are not widely in evidence, and, advancing as they are through a cloud of obscuring smoke, the Indonesians have difficulty spotting the Strainist perimeter ahead of them, so it often comes as a surprise when they reach it. Still, the Khandaq infantrymen fight with perhaps unusual determination, and they make a concerted attempt to invest and collapse the Strainist battalion that forced its way across the outer defensive line.

With the enemy's line of advance identified, the regimental commander feels confident enough to order the rest of his companies manning the main irrigation ditch into action. Those too far from the main part of the action are ordered to withdraw northward, lest they be cut-off by the battle's progress, but four as of yet lightly-engaged infantry companies closest to the point of attack are instructed to cross the ditch and proceed in a southerly direction until contact with the enemy is made. Using irrigation channels as cover, approximately 350 Indonesian infantrymen head out towards the Strainist column, in an effort to attack its flanks. Though four companies probably do not stand much of a chance of breaking-up the enemy column and isolating its spearhead, it is thought that the presence of Indonesians in strength on the wrong side of the main channel will cause the Strainists to divert resources away from the larger engagement.

Pabetangan

While fighting rages only a short distance to the south, a party of Khandaq engineers works to prepare a bridge over the Sadang River for demolition. Driven by the disturbingly close sounds of battle, the Indonesians work feverishly, placing explosives that, when the time comes, will hopefully render the primary vehicle bridge over the Sadang useless to the Strainists. The enemy's ability to perform river crossing operations is by no means in doubt, but it is thought that the terrain around the bridge and along the banks is unsuitable for vehicles, armored or otherwise.

[OOC: One more complication in terms of weather is that the Southern/Indian Ocean weather patterns this year will have been more dry than usual... low rainfall was mentioned as a reason for Soviet insularity when BG was unsure if he'd have regular net access after switching continents. He made a return, so a devastating drought it was obviously not, but if it was mentioned IC then there must have been some impact. I've assumed dryer weather has helped the SRA as it moved through Aceh, and elsewhere in Indonesia, while agricultural yields have been assumed to be a bit less than desired in North Sienna, Burma, and western Sujava.
Still, as long as the Combine doesnt pelt the world with their weaponized rice blast, we wont face a catastrophe].

Pinrang

The fighting between Strainists and Indonesians is fierce indeed, visibility reduced by smoke and both sides showing significant determination. Reports from the front inform rear-echelon commanders to prepare for significant casualties.

SRA reinforcements, moving to bolster their forward element, are slowed by the appearance of more enemy troops at their flanks. Here too, fighting may well be close, soldiers brawling in the shelter of the ditches while heavy machine guns comb the open fields above, reminiscent of the trench warfare seen in decades past. The massed artillery on the Strainist side is forced to hold its fire, repositioning to strike at those Indonesians who remain as yet uncommitted.

As the Indonesian line reforms to make its flanking attack, Strainist commanders move to take advantage of the opening, aware in the same way as their opponents that the Sadang will have to be crossed if the Western Column is to press on with due speed. An assumption is made, that the enemy's air defenses will have moved along with their riflemen, and so SRA helicopters and their small complement of airborne soldiers are sent forward to take control of the crossings and threaten the Indonesian rear.

North of Palopo

The Strainist Eastern Column, following close on the heels of the shattered Hunayn Regiment, will find the main highway littered with discarded equipment, which includes pretty much anything that Indonesian infantrymen can't comfortably carry on foot. The last of the regiment's Scorpion 90 light tanks, their gas tanks quite empty, are left in the middle of the road as barriers and decoys with the aim of causing the Strainists to slow down somewhat, but besides these the Eastern Column will not face much in the way of resistance in their drive north. They are apt to come across small parties of Indonesian wounded, left behind in the retreat and attended by a handful of medical orderlies who make their intention to surrender very clear to advancing Strainists.

When the regiment is ordered to prepare a defense at Wotu, situated on a crossroads and home to an airport, all of two companies, less than 200 infantry, stick around, while the rest of the regiment's survivors show no signs of stopping until they have put a significant distance between themselves and the Eastern Column. Combined with militia units, there may be as many as 2,000 men at arms defending the strategic crossroads, but morale has hit an absolute low point and the militiamen that form the bulk of the ad-hoc force are neither well-trained nor well-armed.

Pinrang

As per Strainist expectations, a great many RBS-70 crews are on the move, trooping their launch posts towards secondary positions, and though a number of infantrymen spot enemy helicopters, the rest of the Khandaq Regiment's air defense assets are concentrated around the reserve battalions and therefore too far away to be of any use.

For the platoon of engineers charged with rigging the Sadang crossing for demolition, the arrival of Strainist helicopter-borne infantry comes as a major surprise. After detonating the charges that have been laid the engineers beat a hasty retreat, leaving the span in damaged condition but far from destroyed. Besides scattered small arms fire meant to cover the engineers' retreat, the Strainists face little initial resistance, and are able to take control of the bridge without much trouble.

At regimental headquarters some distance to the south, however, Indonesian commanders react quickly to the presence of enemy troops at the Sadang crossing. Fearing encirclement and eager to evict the Strainists before they have time to properly entrench themselves, the regimental commander decides to send one of his reserve battalions to the bridge, in the hopes of destroying the enemy force and restoring Indonesian control, so that the engineers might finish the job. A motorized column, headed by the two remaining Saracen APCs, sets out along the main road at speed, covered from air attack by a few Toyota-mounted RBS-70s.

The main engagement, meanwhile, continues to cost the Indonesians heavily. Though they may locally outnumber the Strainists in some places, the enemy's superior standards of training are a significant factor in such a short-range contest. Indonesians deployed in the flank attack face similar conditions, but they too fight with determination, aware that they have a hand in making the going easier for troops engaged on the other side of the main irrigation ditch.

The Khandaq Regiment's last battalion, by now reinforced by a few companies pulled-back from irrelevant front line positions, and until now kept in reserve, starts to stir. Judging from radio reports transmitted by forward commanders, the colonel in charge has come under the opinion that, by throwing another battalion into the fight at this stage, he could hope to accomplish his goal of destroying a significant part of the enemy formation. Indonesian mortars are ordered to deploy several smokescreens across the length of the battlefield, aimed at confusing Strainist gunners as to the position and route of advance about to be taken by the last reserve battalion. NDL-40s, the few that remain, fire as strong a barrage as they can manage on what are believed to be enemy artillery positions.

Wotu

While the Eastern Column's mechanized elements continue to push on with speed, truck- and bicycle-mounted troops are allowed to slow so as to recover any useful equipment abandoned by the Indonesians... knowing what they themselves would do in similar circumstances, the Strainists excercise significant caution in searching for booby traps and other such dangers.

The first strike against the crossroads at Wotu comes in the form of a rocket barrage, likely to do some damage but meant more to shake than to obliterate. This is followed by a stream of propaganda, politely requesting surrender and extolling the great benefits of life in the embrace of the Strainist Party.
Even if it does not have the desired impact, such an effort buys a bit of time for the forward detachment to re-form from its marching order in preparation for another urban engagement.

Pinrang

Casualties continue to mount amongst Strainist forces as they battle against the Indonesians. Morale remains steady, but the enemy may have the edge in motivation... the Strainists expect victory over Kalla and his Islamic Republic, and that certainty works against them: when you know you're going to win regardless, there is much less drive to sacrifice for that victory. Some platoon commanders hope that the Indonesians will run out of ammunition before the Strainists run out of spirit.

Indonesian NDL-40s will struggle to land blows against the bulk of the SRA's artillery, made up as it is of much larger pieces whose range allows them to stand further back from the engagement as they deliver their thundrous contribution. Lighter pieces, platoon mortars and the SRA's own NDLs, are easier targets, but the best subjects for Indonesian counterbattery fire are likely the heavier mortars which accompany the mechanized contingent currently struggling to deal with the flanking assaults that have delayed their ability to reinforce the forward element. Strainist rockets, for their part, attempt to target the flanking forces and the rear of the Indonesian battalions engaged with the forward detachment, but given the close proximity between both sides across most of the front, they find few safe targets for bombardment. There may be some relief amongst Indonesian officers if they are able to observe troops deployed around the Western Column's significant artillery train... unwilling to risk losses here, a not-insignificant quantity of the SRA's infantry reserves are locked in place in case of an Indonesian breakthrough or infiltration.

Near the bridge over the Sadang, SRA helicopters and airborne troops prepare a defense against Indonesian counterattack. They are a heavily-armed force, typical of SRA heliborne detachments, meant to land behind enemy lines and either force a halt to enemy withdrawals or disrupt C4. Each soldier carries not only a rifle but also a Type D201 light ATGM to provide anti-tank and anti-hardpoint capability, and in terms of training they compare well with other special-operations forces around the world, though as always with the SRA drill-discipline is sacrificed for ideological study.
However, as well-trained and well-equipped as they are, they are limited in one significant way: their number barely exceeds thirty men.

Preparations are made quickly to recieve Indonesian attacks, firing angles are established and range markers for light mortar fire placed surreptitiously. The intention is to wait until the Indonesians come in close before unleashing a barrage of shells and thermobaric warheads to lessen their numbers before they came into effective rifle range, using the D201's ability for indirect fire to remain in cover and reposition themselves unnoticed for the firefight to follow.

The helicopters which accompanied the small force would be divided into two groups. The two transport variants would remain on the ground, stencils and spray cans quickly employed to mark them with Cross-and-Crescent for evacuation of wounded. Three others, configured for attack missions, would take to the air to provide local intelligence on Indonesian approaches. They would also, if they sighted RBS-70s amongst the approaching enemy, take direct action to eliminate the threat. Each helicopter mounts a quartet of D96B anti-tank missiles, with a range slightly in excess of 8000 metres... if the Indonesian SAMs are of the latest type, they will have comparable range and risks will be high, but SRA pilots make the assumption that Kalla and his Singaporean predecessors will have made use of older variants of Saab's missile, allowing Strainist Kamovs a kilometre or two of leeway to target and destroy the threat before it can return fire. If they are able to destroy the RBS-70s (or mistakenly believe such to be true), then the attack helicopters will close to 3000 metres and open up with their 30mm cannon, taking advantage of the stability provided by their coaxial rotors to lay down accurate fire on Saracens and infantry as they attempt to advance. If the threat of air-defence missiles remains, however, the helicopters will have little choice but to withdraw as the Indonesians advance, returning to Strainist lines.

http://img384.imageshack.us/img384/9269/pinrangsadangbattlechibsy7.jpg

http://img214.imageshack.us/img214/2239/strainistsignaturelb6.jpg (http://z7.invisionfree.com/A_Modern_World/index.php?showtopic=12&view=findpost&p=13773433)

Wotu

Strainist rocketry does not greatly diminish the resolve of Wotu's Islamic Guard defenders, who are, by virtue of their decision to stay behind while the rest of their regiment flees in disorder, amongst the most disciplined and determined Indonesian soldiers. Of course, the 2,000-some militiamen who make up most of the Indonesian force in Wotu are not nearly as motivated, and the shock of bombardment is more than most are willing to take. Enemy propaganda appeals to the shell-shocked militiamen, but regular troops are on hand to enforce discipline and desertion attempts are few and far between.

But although most Indonesians remain in their trenches and foxholes for now, it will doubtless become clear in the first stages of the battle that Indonesian militiamen have no appetite for battle. Serious resistance is only apt to be offered by the two companies of regulars in the town, and if the Eastern Column was able to defeat the Hunayn Regiment in strength at Palopo, Wotu should not present an insurmountable challenge.

Pinrang

Believing that the Indonesians stand a good chance of coming out the better in the main engagement, the commander of the Khandaq Regiment finally throws his last spare battalion into the fight. Significantly under-strength after the previous day's fighting in Pare-Pare, the Indonesian formation is nonetheless good for three or four companies at least, perhaps a decisive reinforcement provided enemy bombardment doesn't sap its strength before the battle is joined.

For troops engaged directly with the main Strainist force, commitment of the regiment's reserve battalion is a very important matter, and if the two forward battalions are not soon reinforced they will very likely be forced to withdraw. Ammunition is, as ever, in relatively short supply, and Indonesian infantrymen fighting at such short ranges tend to drain their clips at a higher rate than would be the case otherwise. Only a few Indonesians have run completely out of bullets, but most have only a few clips left for their M-16s, out of a relatively small number issued to begin with. Should the battle continue for much longer without any significant Indonesian gains, maintaining contact with the enemy's spearhead may come to prove suicidal. The reserve battalion, for its part, moves as fast as it can to join the main engagement.

Mortar teams switch from the bombardment of Strainist-held positions to the laying of smoke screens for the benefit of the reserve battalion, a few of them decoys, though a shortage of ammunition and mortar tubes means that the Indonesians can't produce anything impressive. Hopefully, such efforts will keep casualties to an absolute minimum as the reserve formation moves to join the two already-committed Indonesian battalions, since Strainist artillery certainly has the capacity, under normal circumstances, to cause prohibitive losses.

Companies operating along the flanks of the Strainist force generally get the worst of the engagement, though as of yet they show no signs of being ready to withdraw. Other Indonesian infantry units pulled-off the outermost line are ordered into the main engagement as well, though they will take some time to travel the distance on foot, even after abandoning a significant amount of personal kit and heavier pieces of weaponry.

The fight for the Sadang bridgehead continues to go less than ideally for the Khandaq Regiment. Indonesians sent to recapture the bridge may number almost five hundred to the Strainists' 30, but in his haste to resolve the issue, the commander of the motorized battalion drives straight into a Strainist ambush with his last two Saracens, both of which are soon ripped open by enemy D201s. Strainist helicopters, faced, as expected, with older variants of the RBS-70, are similarly able to pick-off all four Indonesian SAM carriers without facing anything in reply. Truck-borne infantry wastes no time in abandoning their transport and going to ground, while officers struggle to bring the battalion's significant numerical advantage to bear. Five companies divide to make roughly a three-pronged attack, with three companies advancing along the road while one pushes through foliage and swampland on each flank, aiming to surround the Strainists by advancing along the banks of the Sadang River.

Wotu

Strainist rocketry does not greatly diminish the resolve of Wotu's Islamic Guard defenders, who are, by virtue of their decision to stay behind while the rest of their regiment flees in disorder, amongst the most disciplined and determined Indonesian soldiers. Of course, the 2,000-some militiamen who make up most of the Indonesian force in Wotu are not nearly as motivated, and the shock of bombardment is more than most are willing to take. Enemy propaganda appeals to the shell-shocked militiamen, but regular troops are on hand to enforce discipline and desertion attempts are few and far between.

But although most Indonesians remain in their trenches and foxholes for now, it will doubtless become clear in the first stages of the battle that Indonesian militiamen have no appetite for battle. Serious resistance is only apt to be offered by the two companies of regulars in the town, and if the Eastern Column was able to defeat the Hunayn Regiment in strength at Palopo, Wotu should not present an insurmountable challenge.

Pinrang

Believing that the Indonesians stand a good chance of coming out the better in the main engagement, the commander of the Khandaq Regiment finally throws his last spare battalion into the fight. Significantly under-strength after the previous day's fighting in Pare-Pare, the Indonesian formation is nonetheless good for three or four companies at least, perhaps a decisive reinforcement provided enemy bombardment doesn't sap its strength before the battle is joined.

For troops engaged directly with the main Strainist force, commitment of the regiment's reserve battalion is a very important matter, and if the two forward battalions are not soon reinforced they will very likely be forced to withdraw. Ammunition is, as ever, in relatively short supply, and Indonesian infantrymen fighting at such short ranges tend to drain their clips at a higher rate than would be the case otherwise. Only a few Indonesians have run completely out of bullets, but most have only a few clips left for their M-16s, out of a relatively small number issued to begin with. Should the battle continue for much longer without any significant Indonesian gains, maintaining contact with the enemy's spearhead may come to prove suicidal. The reserve battalion, for its part, moves as fast as it can to join the main engagement.

Mortar teams switch from the bombardment of Strainist-held positions to the laying of smoke screens for the benefit of the reserve battalion, a few of them decoys, though a shortage of ammunition and mortar tubes means that the Indonesians can't produce anything impressive. Hopefully, such efforts will keep casualties to an absolute minimum as the reserve formation moves to join the two already-committed Indonesian battalions, since Strainist artillery certainly has the capacity, under normal circumstances, to cause prohibitive losses.

Companies operating along the flanks of the Strainist force generally get the worst of the engagement, though as of yet they show no signs of being ready to withdraw. Other Indonesian infantry units pulled-off the outermost line are ordered into the main engagement as well, though they will take some time to travel the distance on foot, even after abandoning a significant amount of personal kit and heavier pieces of weaponry.

The fight for the Sadang bridgehead continues to go less than ideally for the Khandaq Regiment. Indonesians sent to recapture the bridge may number almost five hundred to the Strainists' 30, but in his haste to resolve the issue, the commander of the motorized battalion drives straight into a Strainist ambush with his last two Saracens, both of which are soon ripped open by enemy D201s. Strainist helicopters, faced, as expected, with older variants of the RBS-70, are similarly able to pick-off all four Indonesian SAM carriers without facing anything in reply. Truck-borne infantry wastes no time in abandoning their transport and going to ground, while officers struggle to bring the battalion's significant numerical advantage to bear. Five companies divide to make roughly a three-pronged attack, with three companies advancing along the road while one pushes through foliage and swampland on each flank, aiming to surround the Strainists by advancing along the banks of the Sadang River.

Wotu

The battle at Wotu will precede in much the same fashion as Palopo, perhaps with a little less energy due to the rapid tempo of operations up until this point. The Strainists do not want to slaughter militiamen, and are not too concerned over killing all that many regulars, but they know they must maintain pressure on the enemy in order to force them to abandon further equipment and supplies. THe SRA has a distinctly Maoist perspective on guerilla warfare, and intends to kill any insurgency by winning away its popular support, but the number of casualties suffered if the resistors keep their heavy machine guns and NDL-40s will be far greater than those should they be left only with small arms and foraged rations.
The more cynical might also observe that the Strainists wish to hit hard and force surrenders from Indonesian units, underlining SRA power amongst men whose services will likely be needed by the Party should global conflicts continue to escalate.

Pinrang

The final Indonesian battalion is indeed subject to an intense bombardment as it begins to move, SRA artillerists eager to hit a target which is not hugging close to their comrades. Little time is wasted determining which smokescreens are meant to mislead, ammunition being more than sufficient to waste a few rockets on phantom platoons... with most of the artillery made up of rockets, volume being prioritized over accuracy is sometimes the preferred way to solve a problem, and the Strainists know they must prevent Khandaq reinforcements from bolstering the enemy attack or their own spearhead will be dislodged.

A 6.5mm Zeng bullet does not weigh that much more than a 5.56mm NATO round, but when magazines start to drain even slight differences may have an impact. An Indonesian soldier can carry, in his normal kit, a few more bullets than his Strainist counterpart, and as both sides are drained of ammunition, SRA soldiers are left hoping that their superior logistics will see them resupplied before their weapons are empty and the enemy still has one shot chambered.

Strainist reinforcements are lessened by flanking battles, but the Indonesians have not been so potent as to stop them entirely. A decision is made that Strainist troops at the forefront will begin a slow withdrawal, as their reinforcements advance, allowing them to join up that much sooner, and leaving Khandaq reinforcements free to be pelted with artillery for somewhat longer. A decision is also made, with some nervousness, to divert a company or two from the force guarding the artillery, under belief that an Indonesian offensive at the rear is likely to be of insubstantial size.

At the Sadang bridgehead, SRA soldiers use pre-determined markers to fire additional R201 ordnance into the Indonesians as they attempt to reposition, including several thermobaric rounds, while once RBS-70s are eliminated the SRA's helicopters lay into the enemy with their remaining missiles, followed by 30mm cannon fire against the flanking forces. When the enemy approaches closer, marksmen and then regular rifles are positioned to lay down accurate fire near the edge of their effective range in an attempt to pin down and reduce the opposition, but with reinforcement unlikely plans are laid to withdraw by helicopter should the Indonesians prove tenacious.

http://img296.imageshack.us/img296/3065/pinrang1500hrsjr6.gif

http://img214.imageshack.us/img214/2239/strainistsignaturelb6.jpg (http://z7.invisionfree.com/A_Modern_World/index.php?showtopic=12&view=findpost&p=13773433)

Wotu

Indonesian defenses around the crossroad town of Wotu collapse quickly under enemy attack, with militiamen opting for the most part to capitulate in the face of Strainist superiority in battle. Regular troops, their position untenable in the wake of militia collapse, offer a few minutes of slightly more determined resistance before surrendering to the Eastern Column, and within a short time Wotu is in Strainist hands. The Strainists may be alarmed to find a number of burning buildings in the town, acts of arson committed by Hunayn regulars in a bid to delay the Eastern Column's advance, but Wotu is hardly in danger of burning and the problem is likely one that the local fire brigade can solve.

Strainist elements have, with the capture of Wotu, well and truly broken-out of Sulawesi's Southwest Peninsula, and whatever resistance the Khandaq and Caliph Regiments manage to muster in the west may ultimately prove pointless. Save for the much-reduced Hunayn Regiment, which continues to avoid any confrontation with the Eastern Column, the road to Palu is now more or less open.

Pinrang

Khandaq reinforcements are shattered by Strainist artillery, and, having none of their own with which to reply, the Indonesians can do little else besides hunker-down in irrigation trenches and wait for the fire to lift. Artillery, in spite of Indonesian morale and resolve, remains the king of battle, and the tide of the engagement in Pinrang, though hotly contested throughout, turns decidedly in the Strainists' favor. Regimental headquarters subsequently orders a general withdrawal to the ill-defined secondary defensive line, and the disengagement of the Strainist spearhead. Heavy mortar fire is directed against the enemy's forward elements while Khandaq infantrymen run back through the cratered fields and dry irrigation ditches, making for the relative safety of prepared defenses further north.

The order is, however, not communicated to companies involved in the flanking attack, and these press on in spite of their comrades' withdrawal. Losses in those units mount steadily, but commanders, believing that there are reinforcements on their way, remain committed to the endeavor. Within a short time the Indonesian position south of the main irrigation canal will become untenable.

Enemy helicopters cause grievous losses amongst Indonesian troops at the Sadang Bridgehead, who, without any intact RBS-70s, have a minimal ability to defend themselves from airborne attacks. The advance up the main road stalls completely, the three companies attacking from that direction very much pinned-down and struggling to find cover. Two flanking companies are largely able to continue their portion of the maneuver with light losses from Strainist helicopters, though the terrain itself prevents terribly rapid movement and the three other companies might be up and on their way by the time the flankers arrive at the banks of the Sadang River. Strainist air-mobile forces holding the Sadang Bridge, no matter what the outcome, can at least take comfort in the fact that they've accounted for almost twice their number of Indonesians, and likewise the fact that they are keeping an entire maneuver battalion from joining the main part of the battle at Pinrang. But the force deployed to re-take the bridge is representative of its importance in the mind of the regimental commander, and he is not about to let the Strainists take possession of the Sadang crossing intact. The regiment is not really expected to hold the Western Column at Pinrang, but letting such a key piece of infrastructure, practically the gateway to the northern part of the peninsula, fall intact into enemy hands would be inexcusable. For that reason the Indonesians are extremely eager to force the Strainists off before they receive reinforcements or before they destroy the bridge themselves and cut-off the regiment's avenue of escape.

Wotu

The nature of the SRA means that, while its firefighting equipment is rather limited, a handful of infantry officers and NCOs have some experience operating as part of militia fire brigades, and the Revolutionary Army has every reason to jump at a chance to cut a heroic pose amongst the locals. Manpower in firefighting will be in no short supply, as will efforts at reconstruction once the smoke begins to clear. In violation of what some might consider proper treatment of POWs, Indonesian prisoners are almost immediately subject to Party propaganda, while their religious needs fall to the ministrations of moderate Islamic scholars long-itching to push out the radicalism of Jemmah Islamiyah clerics with their own interpretations borne in earlier years as part of the Nahdlatul Ulema. Indeed, such is commonplace wherever the Party's embrace now extends, a subplot oft-forgotten amongst Western governments who too easily equate socialism with secularism. War in Indonesia stretches beyond a conflict between two states, or even two ideologies. It is also a war to set the course of the faith which dominates Southeast Asia, largest portion by far of an Ummah which, from Central Asia to Turkey to Kashmir, now comes into its own after decades eclipsed in influence by a faith it was meant to supercede.

Pinrang

There is a break in the fighting as Indonesian forces fall back from battle with the Strainist spearhead. It is a moment to catch one's breath, and a moment to celebrate as well... not long after the Indonesians retreat, SRA reinforcements arrive to relieve the tired soldiers of the forward detachment.
The enemy will have a spot of time to recover as well, as Strainist forces consolidate and focus on eliminating the flanking attacks, ever-present loudspeakers now gleefully declaring their abandonment by regimental command and the inevitability of Revolutionary Army triumph in an effort to encourage surrender.
Strainist artillery, though, remains focussed on the main body of Indonesians, aiming to sap even more of the enemy's strength as the Indonesians reposition themselves to join their second line of defense.

Helicopters near the Sadang will continue to do as much damage as they are able with their cannon, but their heavier ordnance has been expended in an effort to ensure destruction of enemy AA assets, so the damage they can deal is limited. Eventually, they will have to fall back towards Strainist lines to refuel and rearm, granting the Indonesians a respite.

The few SRA soldiers present prepare for two possible courses-of-action. The first is to serve as a delaying force... they face more enemy troops than expected, and so a victory here is out of the question, but the main Strainist force to the south ought be more than capable of engaging and destroying each portion of a divided enemy in turn, and so keeping up the fight here may ensure victory overall.
The second is one most would rather avoid, but which must be undertaken if the Khandaq regiment looks to be attempting a retreat en masse. To prevent the enemy escaping to bolster forces in the central mountains, the bridge over the Sadang will have to be destroyed.

http://img72.imageshack.us/img72/9943/pinrang1600hrsdx1.gif
[OOC: Also added map to previous post, as its helping me keep track of things... roughly, units are being depicted on a company-level scale there, I think]

http://img214.imageshack.us/img214/2239/strainistsignaturelb6.jpg (http://z7.invisionfree.com/A_Modern_World/index.php?showtopic=12&view=findpost&p=13773433)

(OCC: Those maps look good to me, Spyr, though at the bridge over the Sadang there are actually an excessive five Indonesian companies committed. Thanks a lot for making them! They're a very big help, and I think my own MS paint scribblings would do more harm than good. ;))

Pinrang

Indonesian infantrymen pulled out of the main engagement are hit very badly by Strainist bombardment. Khandaq troops take cover as best they can in nearby irrigation ditches and shell holes, but beyond this the terrain offers little protection and many Indonesians are caught in the open. Still several hundred meters away from semi-prepared second line defenses, infantry companies are well and truly pinned-down, not likely to risk another dash across open ground in order to join up with the secondary defenses. All the while enemy artillery claims more Indonesian lives, and the Khandaq Regiment, by now out of ammunition for its few remaining NDL-40s, can't do anything about it.

Indonesian companies operating along the flanks of the main Strainist force, by now completely cut-off from the rest of the regiment and with no hope of relief, are forced to capitulate, and, section at a time, the Khandaq troopers break cover waving white flags or carrying their rifles over their heads.

At the Sadang River, the departure of Strainist helicopters allows the main Indonesian force to finally press its attack. Numbering close to 250 infantrymen, and unencumbered by difficult terrain, the Khandaq infantrymen move up the road at a good pace, firing their M-16s and Ultimax machine guns as they go in an effort to keep-up constant pressure on the helicopter-borne troops holding the bridge. Hemmed-in by swamp and heavy foliage on both sides, the Indonesian companies attacking up the main road are not fully able to bring their numerical advantage to bear, but when enemy strong points are identified, sections further back in the line are used to try and flank them through the swampy terrain and heavy foliage. Flanking companies finally manage to push their way through to the river, tired and uncomfortable but still largely intact. They move in from either side of the bridge along the banks of the Sadang river, aiming to surround the Strainist force entirely.

RBS-70 posts, meanwhile, are finally re-deployed to block the likely approach routes for Strainist helicopters meaning to take part in the battle for the Sadang bridge. Hopefully, with their main source of support cut off, the enemy troops holding the bridge will be overcome fairly quickly, and that vital piece of infrastructure will be back in Indonesian hands.

The Khandaq Regiment has, so far, suffered very heavy losses, and every single one of its five maneuver battalions has been decimated. Out of the approximately 3,700 men who started the day on the Indonesian side, over one thousand have been killed, wounded, or captured since then. Though they may encounter stiff and determined resistance, the Strainists are steadily chipping away at Indonesia's conventional forces on Sulawesi.

Pinrang

Sensing enemy weakness, Strainist forces are urged to press forward, the men of the forward detachment resting while mechanized elements take up the vanguard position and press onward to engage the retreating Indonesians, as artillery fire rolls back to pound those enemy units positioned along the second line of defense.

Towards the rear, support staff set about re-arming and refuelling returned helicopters for a second sortie, while attempts are made to secure an area for storage of Indonesian POWs... the final product, a guarded wire enclosure into which flow Party-branded chocolate and the heavy beats of Jakartan socialist electronika, will have to do until they can be moved to more permanent enclosures for the usual barrage of propaganda and reeducation-through-labour.

Further afield, at the bridge over the Sadang, even the most optimistic SRA soldier does not imagine victory to be possible given the enemy's sheer numbers. The Strainists are forced to withdraw back ever closer to the bridge itself, and their two remaining helicopters. Communications are also dispatched to Makassar, calling for deployment of an aircraft equipped for ground attack.

http://img80.imageshack.us/img80/8836/pinrang1800hrswi1.gif

Pinrang

Indonesian troops facing the Strainist armored thrust offer spirited but uneven resistance, which quickly drains remaining ammunition and probably causes the enemy only a minimum of difficulty. Heavily depleted by fierce fighting with the Western Column's infantry, and then smashed to bits by enemy bombardment, only a few hundred able-bodied Indonesians out of the two battalions that handled most of the fighting on the main irrigation canal remain to surrender after being cut-off from the secondary defensive line by enemy tanks.

Khandaq TOWs, until recently camouflaged from air attack and bombardment, are brought to bear on the Strainist attack along with six surviving M40 recoilless rifles, though as is the case with the whole regiment ammunition supplies won't support a very energetic barrage. Four TOW launchers, for instance, each have exactly two missiles, so gunners are careful to fire on targets that the M40s, somewhat less lethal but better-supplied, are not likely to destroy. All in all, the Khandaq Regiment's anti-tank forces may make for a nuisance, but they are likely to run out of ammunition before anything remotely approaching a setback is dealt to the Strainists. Mortars might amount to more of a problem, but most of these are on the move, towards positions closer to the Sadang bridge.

In the secondary defensive line, now the focus of enemy bombardment, losses are also heavy, although not prohibitive given the better cover offered by larger and mostly dried-up irrigation channels. Still, the battalion there, under-strength to begin with, was hit by Strainist artillery only a short time earlier and suffered accordingly. Most likely the resistance offered by troops manning the secondary defensive line will not be sufficient to sap the Strainist advance of serious momentum, especially in light of the regimental commander's decision to have the handful of infantry companies not yet involved in any fighting pull-back towards Pabetangan and the Sadang bridge. Hope of victory at Pinrang for the Indonesian side has well and truly evaporated, and the regimental commander now focuses his energies on leaving the area with as many able-bodied troops as possible.

At the bridge, Indonesian infantrymen attack with determination and vigor, very keen on recapturing their escape route. Casualties are by no means light, but for now the attacking battalion can absorb them, and as a frontal assault presses forward the flanking companies move to prevent any possible withdrawal on the part of the Strainist air-mobile forces.

Pinrang

Indonesian TOWs certainly slow Strainist units, if they do not destroy them outright... amidst the irrigation channels, the SRA's mechanized vehicles have difficulty maneuvering , and several losses are suffered to enemy ATGMs, even as the infantry they once bore retaliate against the offending launcher with fire from marksmen and their own (thermobaric) missiles. A pair of fighter aircraft scream overhead on their way to the Sadang, saving their bomb loads for other purposes and keeping above the lowest altitudes, hoping to 'smoke out' the enemy's remaining SAMs. Re-armed helicopters stand ready to take advantage of any Indonesian missile crews who are tricked into trying to target the fighters, and if the area seems safe from such weapons, will contribute their remaining rockets to add punch to the advance of their mechanized comrades on the ground.
The soldiers of the former forward detachment are charged with any Indonesians who choose the option of surrender, and will guard them as they withdraw back towards the artillery train, after which they shall take up the restful task of watching over the whole collection POWs, freeing fresh boots to join the advance. Hardened from the difficult battle already faced today, these soldiers do not present quite the friendly figures that their less-worn fellows managed further south... there is no candy or pop music to distribute. Medical attention is offered, however, once Strainist soldiers have been stabilized, and if the SRA's motor pool continues to be occupied in the advance then the prisoners will likely bee press-ganged into bearing the stretchers on which rest both those gunned down beside them and those into whom they planted bullets.

At the Sadang, withdrawal becomes a neccessity in the face of superior enemy numbers. Efforts are made to fit as many as possible into the two remaining helicopters, facing a shortage of space due to the presence of wounded soldiers. A request for volunteers settles the issue and provides covering fire for the retreat.
As soldiers load onto their transports, two Strainist fighters approach from the south, coming in low over the fighting before emptying their loads of bombs onto the bridge over the Sadang... if the Party cannot have the crossing, then no one shall, and likely some bureaucrat in Jakarta already plans to use the situation to line the pockets of a favoured construction collective while touting the gleaming new infrastructure which has been gifted to Sulawesi by Strainist benevolence.

Once the bridge has been dealt with, the fighters turn to provide a volley of cannon fire in support of the helicopter withdrawal, finally heading upwards and southwards back to Makassar. The helicopters themselves will first attempt to head south as well, hoping Red Cross/Crescent markings (or, if not, their 30mm cannon) will get them through... if this proves too difficult, then they will turn and flee across the river, depositing their charges on the other side to dig in and await the arrival of further SRA troops on the banks. Trained to operate behind enemy lines, the handful of soldiers left behind in the fighting will attempt to scatter and conceal themselves once the helicopters have lifted off, sniping at targets of opportunity but not showing excessive bravado... by now, the battle has been won, all they must do is wait until the Indonesians realize that fact.

http://img107.imageshack.us/img107/1103/pinrang2000hrsny5.gif

Pinrang

Remaining Khandaq RBS-70s do, for the most part, attempt to engage the Strainist fighters as they fly over the battlefield, keen to destroy those high-value targets, and thus expose themselves to attack on the part of re-armed attack helicopters. Some Indonesian air defense crews are not taken unawares, but their early-model missiles have inferior range when compared with Strainist ATGWs and detection or engagement by ground forces could come before a target presents itself. Whatever the local result, the regimental air defense grid is in shambles, and helicopters bearing Indonesians formerly deployed at the Sadang bridge, if they are able to get through a hail of small-arms fire, will find the way to their own lines quite open.

TOW crews fare little better, and most rapidly abandon their launchers after expending the few rounds available to them. Left without any significant fire support, the companies manning the secondary defensive line are quickly overrun by enemy armor, the likes of which they have little means of defending against after expending their MATADORs in the fighting around Pare-Pare. Recognizing both impending defeat and the fact that the collapse of that last line of resistance leaves it completely exposed to the Strainist vanguard, regimental headquarters beats a hasty retreat, abandoning most of its radio equipment in the process. The headquarters unit hopes to reach the Sadang River ahead of the enemy, but, traveling mostly on foot, this might not be possible in the end. Certainly the colonel in command is resigned to this outcome, confident that his military record is clean enough.

Troops at the Sadang crossing, frustrated first at the enemy's departure and then at the bridge's destruction, occupy themselves with getting across the river by their own means. Thanks to the season, the Sadang River isn't quite as much of an obstacle as it would be otherwise, and infantrymen don't have much trouble at all wading across to the other bank, but they abandon any equipment that is too heavy to carry, and correspondingly all motorized transport. The better part of one of the Khandaq Regiment's battalions is, it appears, still intact in the wake of the battle around Pinrang, but low on ammunition and highly lacking in terms of mobility.

As the sun sets the Strainists find themselves firmly in possession of Pinrang and the surrounding area, the clear victors in what is probably the second to last battle for control of Sulawesi's south-west peninsula. The only question now, it seems, is how long it will take the Strainists to move on Polewali. Central Sulawesi, by contrast, is not heavily-defended by the Islamic Guard, and plays host to Mohammed Kalla's personal bodyguard, a force whose loyalty has been sorely tested. The Indonesian leader himself, most suspect, is somewhere in there as well, though nobody really knows where. Not much has come out of Kalla since the bombardment of Makassar.

Strainist mechanized forces and their armoured comrades are quite relieved when enemy TOWs fall silent, the anti-tank weapons failing to halt their advance due to lack of ammunition rather than lack of effectiveness. Even the supposed 'battle tanks' present, T-55s with the SRA's odd spaced armour, have difficulty maneuvering in the irrigated terrain and thus leave vulnerable flanks exposed. Engineering units accompanying the advance will soon begin the process of recovering damaged vehicles, while infantry without armoured transports finish off enemy remnants and gather up those Indonesians who chose to surrender. The engineers are also tasked with recovery of abandoned enemy equipment... communications gear will be of particular interest, as while the Singaporean ciphers inherited by Kalla were compromised before Indonesia was even born, Hudecian encryptions supplied after the fall of Bonstock have presented a more difficult obstacle, and Strainist intelligence officers are eager to confirm the methods invented over the years to unlock Indonesian communications. Lessons on the approaches taken in such ciphers will also be useful as an example of North American/NATO approaches to encryption, knowledge which will serve well in other theatres.

The retreating Indonesians will be harried by a smattering of remaining bombs dropped from fighters returning to Makassar, and rockets from helicopters satisfied that enemy air defenses have been dealt with. As these return to re-arm after expending their payloads, joined by retreating transport helicopters, they will join a significant repositioning as artillery moves forward to try and catch surviving Khandaq troops as they cross the Sadang. Mechanized SRA units will pause to colect themselves for a short time before resuming the offensive, but the great hope is to bloody the enemy as much as possible before they can escape.

Pinrang

By nightfall Indonesian resistance in and around Pinrang has well and truly ceased, and the Strainists' victory is unquestionable. Several companies of survivors do manage to cross the Sadang without much additional loss of life, though upon reaching the opposite bank these units scatter, fearful of presenting an easy target for enemy artillery units and fighter-bombers. Approximately 350 Indonesian men-at-arms still wear its insignia, but the Khandaq Regiment is no longer a credible fighting force by any stretch of the imagination and will not likely offer any further opposition to the Strainists as they push north. Indonesian commanders are however confident that the destruction of the bridge at Pabetangan will serve to further delay the enemy's advance, thus buying the regiment at Polewali more time to strengthen its defenses. Several junior officers make the argument that the Mecca* regiment now garrisoning that town would have been put to better use in mobile operations alongside the Khandaq Regiment, and some even go so far as to say that the presence of a second regiment at Pare-Pare and Pinrang would have ensured Indonesian victory, but senior officers are quite unwilling to leave their fortified positions in order to confront an enemy superior in terms of armor, air, and artillery support and almost certainly better-supplied.

Tarakan

So far, the third battle for Tarakan has not gone well for the Indonesian military, and now, days after the initial Strainist landing, enemy troops are in firm control of the island's port facilities, airfield, and major population centers. Despite the beating that it took over the course of the fighting, the battalion-strength Indonesian garrison remains largely intact, and occupies much of Tarakan's northern section. With their supply situation more secure after the arrival of a coastal convoy from Tajungselor, and reinforced by another 90 Indonesian infantrymen, Indonesian officers still hanging onto Tarakan begin, at Colonel Yurnalis' request, planning for a counterattack against Strainist forces on the island.

Pinrang
Strainist victories across Sulawesi are trumpeted by the Revolutionary Army, which hopes to use such triumphs to push the unpleasantness of Balikpapan out of the headlines before it has too great an impact on public opinion. Troops in Western Sulawesi take a few days to rest and regroup, preparing for operations against Polewali. Airborne and satellite intelligence assets observe Mecca regiment efforts to build up fortifications with little worry as they assist artillerists in working out targeting solutions… the Revolutionary Army did not delay its advance to increase its rocket stores without having a reason for it, and the commanders of the Indonesian defense will soon realize the wisdom in the suggestions of more maneuver-minded junior officers: a static defense is exactly what the Strainists need to ensure another of Kalla’s regiments is broken as a fighting force before it can escape into the interior.

SRA engineers take advantage of the current pause to prepare a crossing of the Sandang, accumulating the needed supplies while forward units cross the river to secure required beachheads. With few boats present to be press-ganged into service, the small number of heliborne troops in the area must be supplemented by Revolutionary soldiers swimming to the other side under their own power. This puts limits on the quantity of gear which can be carried, though the SRA is better able to deal with the problem than were the retreating Indonesians… a few amphibious light tanks and personal flotation gear designed for infantry maneuver over the rivers of Lyong are present in sufficient quantities to support the small force needed for an initial foray.

Prisoners taken during the battle continue to be subject to Strainist propaganda as they are moved southward to secure camps outside Makassar. Here, as is normal Strainist practice with its POWs, they will be well treated, though there is no escape from the ever-present psychological manipulation spewing from the Party propaganda machine. The Strainists also expect their prisoners to provide manual labour as they repair roads and begin new development in the territories they occupy.

Polewali is not allowed to rest easy even during this pause in the Strainist advance, the SRA hoping to keep them uncertain as to the nature of the attack which looms on the horizon. Unable to hide the obvious force massed to the East, Revolutionary Army officers decide to try and split Indonesian manpower by implying a two-pronged assault on the city. SRA military vessels are directed to linger as they move past Polewali, launching the occasional cruise missile towards defenses on the shore or sweeping the edges of the minefield which currently shields the area from naval attack. Troopships also pass through the area, perhaps causing Mecca commanders to assume a buildup is ongoing, though in fact these are merely being diverted slightly from courses to reinforce SRA positions in northern Sulawesi and Tarakan.

Tarakan

SRA machinations in the Makassar Strait of Polewali have the unfortunate consequence of adding another day to the time it will take SRA reinforcements to reach the small Strainist garrison on the island. Uncertain of enemy numbers, but well aware that they have inflicted little actual damage on the foe, there is little the Strainists here can do but wait, their numbers insufficient for a northward advance.

(OCC: A belated explanation of the asterisk in my last post: I think that I might have referred to the Indonesian unit defending Polewali as the Caliph regiment in the past. This is an error on my part, and the Caliph regiment should be considered destroyed and scattered by now.)

Southwestern Sulawesi

A static defense on the Indonesians' part may well play, in the great scheme of things, to Strainist advantages, but the commander of the Mecca Regiment in Polewali did not choose that course of action on a whim. The battle in Pinrang, though doubtless a major defeat on the Islamic Guard, is at the same time a source of confidence for senior officers, who saw an under-strength and weary Khandaq Regiment manage to hold out against the enemy's Western Column for the better part of a day. The Mecca Regiment, fresh and numbering close to 8,000 personnel, occupying a vastly more defensible position, and supported by a large contingent of modern howitzers would, in the minds of most Indonesian officers, stand an especially good chance of blocking the Strainist advance. Certainly the regimental commander has no intention of abandoning his unique artillery assets until they've been put to good use.

So for the time being, the Mecca Regiment does not budge from its position at Polewali, though its strongest inland defenses are weakened more than slightly as the regimental commander deploys to face the prospect of an amphibious assault. The minefield that protects Polewali's seaward approaches is not something that a prospective landing force could dismiss lightly, but at the same time few Indonesian officers are confident in its ability by itself to prevent a disastrous flanking maneuver. Lacking any serious naval component and unwilling to expose valuable FH-88s so early in the game, the Indonesians are however quite unable to threaten enemy shipping in the Makassar Strait with anything more fearsome than a handful of floating contact mines, and even minesweepers that spend a significant amount of time in the view of Polewali's defenders are largely left alone.

Tarakan

Encouraged by the enemy's apparent idleness, the Indonesians still on Tarakan adopt a much more active pattern of operations, with the aim of denying the Strainists secure use of the island's airfield and port facilities for as long as possible. Indonesian commanders have abandoned the notion of launching an all-out attack against the Strainist position, which, they are sure, is by now fairly well-defended and doubtless supported by both naval and landed artillery, but small-scale nocturnal raids are mounted with increasing frequency. These usually involve section-sized parties of Indonesian troopers, often equipped with a higher-than-normal proportion of Ultimax machine guns or MATADOR rocket launchers, which attempts to penetrate enemy lines in order to destroy some piece of infrastructure or position. Sometimes these raiding groups mount their attacks from Tarakan's coastal marshes, using small boats to move through areas almost inaccessible to infantry and naval forces. Occasional mortar fire is also directed against Tarakan's airfield, but this is always of limited volume and duration given the shortage of both mortars and mortar bombs.

Few Indonesian commanders are under any sort of illusion as to the likely outcome of the present battle for Tarakan, but Colonel Yurnalis has certainly led officers on Tarakan to believe that continued resistance there will divert Strainist forces away from important campaigns in southern Kalimantan, Sulawesi, and the Malukus.

Sulawesi and elsewhere in Indonesia

The Western Column now stands like many Strainist forces in Indonesia, recovering from the significant exertions required of the Revolutionary Army in the first few weeks of war. In Southwestern Sulawesi, as in the north, Western Kalimantan, Aceh, and the Malukus, some days are required to refuel, rearm, and consolidate gains already taken. They do not, however, have much time to spare: the tempo of Operation Garuda must be maintained and concentrations of Indonesian resistance struck hard to underline the futility of resistance against the Party.

The Eastern Column is in a far different position... it has accomplished its objectives, smashed the enemy forces which stood against it, and brought Party rule to the territory along its route, and its commanders find themselves somewhat ahead of schedule. Gathering of intelligence is intensified to the North and East, in an attempt to identify enemy positions which will need to be overcome as the Column begins its march on Kendari.

Tarakan

Morale amongst Strainist troops on Tarakan is far from high... though they understand the absence of proper reinforcements makes sense on a strategic level, it does not bolster a soldier's spirits to know she is fighting what, at the moment, is little more than a sideshow. Limited manpower means that the SRA is forced to limit the number of sites it defends against Indonesian night raids, though Strainist familiarity with such nocturnal operations means they will not easily be overcome: trained and equipped under the assumption that half of their combat operations will likely take place after dark, they will present a formidable obstacle for Indonesian raiders who may not be so comfortable operating in darkness.

Enemy approaches may find themselves targeted by the SRA frigate patrolling the northern entrance to the Makassar Strait… cruise missiles are not particularly effective against infantry fire teams rafting through swamplands, but enemy mortars can expect a counterbattery reply to be quick in coming, freeing land-based guns and mortars for use in warding off raiders or deploying illumination flares. Many military thinkers of the modern era have cited ‘information’ as the greatest force multiplier, and at Tarakan the SRA will be forced to rely on such technologies without the benefit of superior numbers or firepower found elsewhere. In the skies high above Tarakan, the dark shape of loitering aircraft might sometimes be sighted, providing real-time images to commanders on the ground and to supporting vessels nearby, allowing quick identification of enemy positions and movements. The coverage is not, however, permanent, as the SRA still does not have ready access to aircraft, such as long-ranged UAVs, which might remain in place for extended periods… smaller unmanned reconnaissance vehicles found at squad and platoon level are limited in both scope and endurance, while the SRA’s manned aircraft and satellites must compete with both a need to return to base/continue orbit and with demands on their attention from elsewhere in the theatre.

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http://img214.imageshack.us/img214/2239/strainistsignaturelb6.jpg (http://z7.invisionfree.com/A_Modern_World/index.php?showtopic=12&view=findpost&p=13773433)

Sulawesi

Excepting the Mecca Regiment at Polewali, organized Indonesian resistance on Sulawesi is very close to collapse. Though the island's mountainous interior, where Mohammed Kalla's headquarters is situated, remains as of yet unexplored by enemy troops, all major population centers are either already in Strainist hands or lightly defended by militia and second-line troops. Kalla's forces on the Minahassa Peninsula can only claim to control the city of Gorontalo, itself surrounded by hostile militias and their Strainist backers, after having been forced out of their primary base at Manado, and it is only a matter of time before that pocket is forced to capitulate. The biggest challenge that the Strainists are likely to face in exerting their authority throughout the whole of Sulawesi is one of logistics, and this will certainly be the case for any advance on Kendari.

Many years of isolation from the world community did the IRI a good deal of harm, especially in terms of infrastructure development. Highways, railways and airports across the nation are, generally, in a poor state of repair and areas that were poorly-developed at the time of the FRB's collapse aren't any better off at the end of Mohammed Kalla's stint as leader. Cities on the southern tip of the Southeast Peninsula remain without any form of overland connection to the remainder of Sulawesi, so the eastern column will likely find movement far to the south prevented by an acute lack of roads through thickly-forested and mountainous terrain. Of course, the city of Kendari itself is lightly garrisoned and the Strainists could almost certainly conclude their campaign in the Southeast Peninsula in a matter of days if they make an amphibious landing in the area.

The city of Palu remains, as far as Islamic Guard commanders are concerned, a place worth protecting, and the Mecca Regiment's position at Polewali is meant to block the western column's advance towards there, but Palu itself is hardly better-protected than Kendari and local commanders are greatly fearful of an enemy landing, the likes of which would almost certainly defeat the small garrison of militiamen and Islamic Guard support troops. Palu is in at least intermittent communication with Balikpapan and Samarinda across the Makassar Strait, but Indonesian successes on Kalimantan have so far not proven able to offset the painful defeats suffered on Sulawesi, or to delay in any significant fashion that island's capture.

Tarakan

In spite of the relatively small numbers so far deployed by the enemy on Tarakan, the Indonesian commander does not feel confident enough to launch a counterattack against the Strainist positions, supported as they are by naval gunfire. Certainly the mediocre results of raiding operations do little to comfort the island's defenders, who are indeed less used to fighting at night than the Strainists and who suffer accordingly. Unless any prospective counterattack met with a high degree of success, it would leave the Strainists in an excellent position to conquer the rest of Tarakan, so the Indonesian holding force is mostly content to sit and wait. Manning relatively strong positions on Tarakan's highest ground, the Indonesians stand to make any Strainist assault difficult and costly, though at the same time the enemy can expect regular resupply where the Indonesians have only enough food and ammunition stockpiled for perhaps a month of low-level operations, and no steady source of provisions from the mainland.

Southern Sulawesi

Indonesia's deteriorated infrastructure is viewed, amongst the upper Party ranks, as of potential benefit to Strainist efforts there... the transition from Kalla's rule to the socialist way will be made all the more obvious by the changes which will occur in roads, telecommunications grids, and public buildings, earning the gratitude of the Party's newest members. Such projects also ensure a significant number of unskilled jobs for locals which can be used to inject funds into the local economy, while supplying lucrative contracts to established Party collectives, winning the favour of a voting bloc which rarely backs the Revolutionary Army in its desire to spread the Strainist message to the oppressed. Of course, such matters provide little comfort to those who must deal with military operations on the ground... the Eastern Column's forces will have to advance slowly and consolidate their current gains, while heavier artillery and vehicles join the muster Westward and ships are readied for an assault by sea.

By the early morning hours of June 22nd, the Western Column begins its movement forward once again, engineers having completed sufficient bridgework to get tanks and trucks over the Sadang. Moving forward in the darkness before dawn, the Column hopes to secure the towns remaining on the road to Polewali and clear any obstacles or resistance left behind. Their objective stops short of that enemy bastion, a circle around the city now carefully marked on SRA maps: the twenty-kilometer mark at which the vast majority of their artillery pieces will be in range of the city and its entrenched defenders. The modern world has given the Strainists a fine example of how to deal with foes withdrawn to urban fortresses, though few would admit the source: faced with urban resistance in the Baltics, Ukraine's Tsar simply formed a ring and flattened the cities with artillery until they ceased resisting. A brutal approach, and one which brings a degree of moral discomfort to those about to implement it, but it is hard to argue with Wingert's successes: in the time since his invasion, barely a peep has been heard from the once-nationalistic peoples he brought under his boot, and even as he flattened Riga the only voices raised to condemn him were those of Progressive states who would have objected even had the Tsar's troops been advancing to hand out flowers.
There are some differences as well, which make things somewhat different: resistance in Indonesia has not taken the form of massed partisans and supportive noncombatants, so it is hoped that the civil populace will have largely vacated the area while enemy troops were digging in.

Maps of the Polewali area are also marked with a second circle, much larger than the first, marking the range of the SRA's heaviest rockets. These need make no move to advance from their positions at Pinrang, instead settling in south of the Sadang and waiting for the correct time to begin their bombardment.

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Tarakan

Ousting the enemy from Tarakan directly is a difficult task... the terrain favours the defenders, and history provides examples of the difficulty faced in operations long past. Though liable to take a good deal of time, the preferred approach would seem to be securing the island's useful infrastructure (a task almost completed) and simply waiting until the enemy runs out of supplies and demoralized deserters start to stagger in hoping for the steady nourishment of a POW diet. It seems like a valid plan on paper, but those on the ground in Tarakan cannot help but wonder if it is merely a convenient excuse from SRA planners to pass off the lack of reinforcements as a strategic maneuver.

Near Polewali

Confident in the ability of their defensive works to withstand even heavy enemy bombardment, soldiers of the Mecca Regiment stick to their positions and morale, while by no means great, remains high enough that regimental officers aren't worried about their troops running away in the face of Strainist artillery. It is perhaps an unwise decision, given the amount of explosives that the enemy is prepared to heap onto the area before actually moving in to do battle with armor and infantry, but it will take a few days of pummeling at least before the troops of the Mecca Regiment might be convinced to abandon their positions. Heavy artillery bombardment certainly served Tsar Wingert well in the Baltic states, but Indonesian officers at least would argue that the conditions governing the impending engagement around Polewali are substantially different from those that influenced the fighting in Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. Besides being larger than the peacetime armies of most of the former Baltic republics, the Mecca Regiment is deployed over a relatively large area and benefits from the protection offered by difficult terrain, which ought to hide many Indonesian positions from enemy observers, and prepared artillery shelters. Unlike the Baltic armies, the Mecca Regiment also has the ability to hit back, with its large and well-provisioned artillery component.

These considerations certainly serve to encourage Indonesian officers, though in the end they may well prove quite unfounded. No doubt the Strainists have many more shells to expend than the Indonesians, and if a proper siege develops time is on the Strainists' side. Civilian casualties are, however, bound to be on the low side, given the area's low population to begin with, and the degree to which Polewali's residents have fled to surrounding areas in anticipation of a very destructive fight.

Most of the Mecca Regiment's 7,500 personnel and almost all of the regiment's artillery is concentrated in the hills around Polewali, but there are two infantry battalions, approximately 1,000 personnel, deployed around Pajalele and a handful of companies some distance to the north, protecting a bridge across the Mamasa river that, Indonesian officers fear, may be used to flank the regiment. The Indonesians have prepared a defense-in-depth around Polewali, four rather vaguely-defined lines of resistance based on fortified ridges and supported by camouflaged and dug-in artillery batteries. Mecca batteries themselves are quite silent and artillery crews do their best to keep out of sight, at least until the enemy provides some worthwhile targets to fire on.

Pabetangan, Sulawesi. June 22 0200hrs [June 21 1800hrs UTC]
Having so far managed well with their standard doctrines, the SRA's advance towards Polewali takes place in typical fashion, a mechanized battalion serving as forward detachment, bolstered by engineers and the company of T55s. This vanguard is followed by the main body of the Western Column, moving more slowly due to the presence of a bolstered artillery train and accompanying ammunition.
The forward detachment will be responsible for 'clearing the road' northward towards Polewali. A paved roadway and rail line run roughly parallel into the city, but it is assumed that the Indonesian defenders will likely have taken steps to mine or othewise render the roadways useless, and even if they have not managed such steps the rule of Mohammed Kalla has likely left such routes without needed maintenance for some time. The detachment will also have to deal with destruction of enemy troops encountered along the way, a task which will certainly see them in heavy combat once they reach Pajalele.
Strainist aircraft loiter above the area, continuing to feed photographs back to Jakarta and Western Column officers, where much effort is expended trying to identify enemy concentrations and SAM or artillery positions. Accompanying these unarmed observers, a pair of F94s stand by with anti-radiation missiles in case the Mecca regiment attempts to target Strainist aircraft.

Pajalele, Sulawesi. June 22 0400hrs
Provided they do not encounter unexpected Indonesian presence, the Western Column's forward detachment ought reach Pajalele well before dawn (expected to arrive just after 0600). Outnumbered by the defenders, the Strainists hope to take advantage of their superior equipment and training for night fighting to carry the day, but few in the Western Column want to lose momentum with a halt at Pajalele and delay bombardment of Polewali. Thus, the smaller target will be the first to receive a visit from the SRA's rockets.
From Pinrang, the heaviest of the SRA's artillery pieces launch a volley against Pajalele: twelve 400mm rockets mounting thermobaric warheads, targeted at areas where enemy troops are thought to be concentrated. The forward detachment will reach the outskirts of the township by 0430, at which time they will engage what remains of the enemy, hopefully disheartened by the destruction rained upon them and ready to give up the fight.
The remaining 400mm launcher reserves its six rockets for Pinrang itself, launching against barracks and areas where defenses have been identified as particularly thick. It is hoped that these shots, fired in the minutes after the explosions around Pajalele have lit the night sky, will catch enemy troops as they are either drawn out to stare or rush to reach their hardened positions.

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In the Makassar Strait, the frigate Shimusui joins the initial bombardment of Polewali, launching a total of sixty-six cruise missiles at targets along the shore between 0415 and 0515. Some of the missiles will be fired at targets of lesser value than might otherwise be the case… sites for lighter artillery and machine-gun nests overlooking the beaches, rather than higher-value targets further inland… in an attempt to keep Mecca forces split between defending both overland and seaward approaches.

Polewali, Sulawesi. June 22 0500hrs
In no rush, the heavy SRA battery at Pinrang waits almost an hour before it resumes firing upon Polewali, allowing planners time to analyze aerial photographs for new targets and giving Mecca artillery a chance to reveal itself by firing towards Pajalele. One of the three 400mm launchers is assigned counterbattery duty, while the other two continue use of thermobaric ordnance to break open enemy defenses as lighter artillery pieces deploy south of Pajalele to join the bombardment. Twelve rockets can be launched every thirty minutes for the next five hours, though delivering such a high volume of ordnance comes with its own difficulties:
Firstly, due to the contents of SRA stockpiles, one in six rockets will be high-explosive rather than thermobaric. While a 200kg HE warhead is capable of significant damage, its impact is significantly less than an equivalent fuel-air weapon. Secondly, it is certain that of the thermobaric rockets fired, not all will be free of malfunctions, and the undetonated fuel mixture released by such rockets is arguably a chemical weapon, toxic if inhaled and an irritant on contact with human skin. Whether the Indonesians in Polewali will care or report such effects, suffering as they are under more immediate threats, remains unknown.

Pajalele

Indonesian troops certainly have no way of predicting the Strainist bombardments, and lack the means to detect enemy rockets in flight, but troops in Pajalele could almost be called well-prepared for the situation at hand and casualties, though heavy, are much lighter than they might have been otherwise. Battalion commanders, though not aware of the exact capabilities of Strainist thermobaric rockets beforehand, took what they deemed prudent steps to mitigate the effect of enemy artillery on their troops. Defensive works are, at the time of the Strainist bombardment, mostly unoccupied, and the Indonesian troops are instead camped a short distance to the north under the relative cover of hilly and forested terrain. Many laboriously-constructed bunkers and trench lines are demolished, and the ability of Indonesian infantrymen to defend Pajalele against concerted opposition is certainly reduced, but the greater part of the defending force itself remains in fighting condition.

Ideally, the Strainists won't pick up on this until the Indonesian troops are able to move back in behind the enemy spearhead, and the force at Pajalele has done much to hide itself from enemy reconnaissance. Light discipline, for instance, is strictly enforced, and the infantrymen themselves are more often than not covered in foliage. A high volume of radio traffic is still being exchanged between the Mecca battalions and their forward observers, however, and this might give the Strainists reason to suspect that their initial bombardment did not have the intended effect.

Regimental artillery in Polewali remains, as per orders, completely silent, though a few mortars do fire on the Western Column's forward detachment, and the Indonesians let loose with the occasional flare as well, meant to support the notion that the battalions at Pajalele will be able to offer only light resistance. Once the forward detachment is in Pajalele town, the defenders will try their best to force an engagement on terms more or less favorable to the Indonesians, though superior Strainist firepower might well prove the deciding factor, as was the case in most of the campaign's other battles.

Polewali

Good dispersal of forces and rough, uneven terrain help to keep Indonesian casualties in Polewali itself on the low side, and commanders are able to maintain order and discipline as hardened bomb shelters are occupied. Usually sited on reverse slopes or at the bottom of hills, and pretty widely-dispersed, these bunkers are by no means comfortable for their occupants, but they stand as good a chance as anything of withstanding enemy thermobaric weaponry. They hold up fairly well through the first two hours of enemy bombardment, anyway, but as was the case in Pajalele most prepared defensive positions are demolished. Strainist cruise missiles also find two Indonesian ammunition dumps, reducing by more than half the stock of 155mm shells available to Mecca Regiment artillerists, and twelve FH-88 howitzers are also knocked-out by the bombardment so far.

Coastal defenses aren't so resilient, however, and the two battalions deployed to cover for a potential amphibious assault are devastated by a mixture of thermobaric rockets and naval cruise missiles. Certainly, if the Strainists wanted to land troops, they would be able to do it relatively easily, but surviving observers continue to report a puzzling absence of assault shipping offshore.