NationStates Jolt Archive

10:15am: Central Council Chamber, Kurskograd, Atopiana:

Exactly a quarter of an hour after the start of the biggest session of the Central Council in fifty years, and Atopiana was about to undergo its biggest sociopolitical change. It came in the guise of the black-uniformed Anja Frank and the men and women of her Atopian Union of Fascists.

All of the troopers with her now were drawn from the Atopian People's Militia - and all were hardened by war.

"What is the meaning of this," cried the guard, as he was brushed aside, "You know you can't - comrades, stop!

Wordlessly, the action unit slammed open the huge doors to the chamber, and filed in, weapons readied. Silence fell within the vast chamber. Frank strode in, jackboots gleaming, cap firmly on her head.

"This is the end," she began, "No longer will Atopiana rot and shrivel away under your inept rule! You are to consider yourselves under arrest. My troops will take you away shortly."
"By what authority," screamed the chair-elect, "do you claim to have the power to do this?"
"The authority of force, and the strength of will required to use it. Commander Blake?"
"Ma'am Frank?"
"Eradicate them."

Pandemonium erupted with those words - and with it, gunfire. The disciplined troops of the 167th Column of the Atopian People's Militia chattered short bursts into the panicking councillors, cutting them down as they fled. Within ten minutes, all were lying dead - and so began the Pact of Iron.

As Frank left the building, her Lifeguard next to her, she smiled. Absolute power of over a billion men, women and children was hers, and hers alone. At last, Atopiana could ascend to its rightful place in the world...

A group of Skgorrian IL-76s flew across the border unmolested. Normally, such measures would've been met by missiles and fighters, but today was different. There were no panicked radio calls, no troop movements or skirmishes occured.

On board these transports was a batallion of Skgorrian Air Guards, destined for the Atopian capital to support the coup being launched by the AUF. Major Petersen, with the lead company and HQ on board one of the transports, was the only man on board who knew the full specifics of what was going on. He took up a radio and broadcasted to the Skgorrian aircraft and their inhabitants.
"Now hear this, now hear this. We're going to Atopiana to support a coup. Skgorria expects every man to do his duty"

Around the crafts, there were murmurs of suprise. At long last, the Atopians had grown tired of their deluded and weak form of government? Many secretly hoped that their officer was lying and that they were the first wave of a long-promise invasion.

But no, this was no invasion, this was creating an ally and forging the Pact of Iron...

10:32, Central Council Building, Kurskograd:

A group of blackshirted soldiers clattered up the steps towards Frank. One bore a radio on his back, another wore the markings of a Captain.

"Ma'am Frank," began the Captain as he snapped a Roman salute, "word from the Air Marshal. The Skgorrians are on their way. He wants to know if we should escort them in?"
"Yes," Frank replied, returning the salute, "and find out how the militia's reacted to this. We need complete control of all our objectives by nightfall or we're done for. Action!"
"Unity!" shouted the Captain as he turned away, taking the radio operator with him...

10:35, Atopian Airspace:

"Eagle King to Eagle squadron, we're to intercept and escort a gaggle of storks. Follow me, out."

As one, the 12 MiG-21s banked north, afterburners roaring, and sped to meet the Skgorrian Ilyushins...

"We've got incoming!" barked the radar operator aboard one of the IL-76s.
"Relax, that's our escort" replied the pilot, adjusting course to bring the convoy to the target zone.
"WHAT?" the radar opertator was staggered. "We've spent years dodging these people, and now they're going to escort us?"
"Are they shooting at us?" retorted the pilot as the Migs surrounded the IL-76s in a protective manner. "5 minutes to drop!"

With that, the co-pilot hit a switch and a red light flashed in the darkened hold. The load officer called "5 minutes!" and the Skgorrians stood to their feet. They began checking their weapons and 'chutes, the last thing they wanted was for something to go wrong. A faulty weapon or a faulty 'chute could mean death.
"1 minute!" called the load officer to the nervous troops. Sensing that words were needed, Petersen raised his right arm in a clenched fist.

"Into the crucible of battle!" he cried as the doors opened. Petersen ran to the open door and jumped into the void. Hundreds of Skgorrians followed, and soon the battalion was on its way to the ground...

10:40, above Kurskograd:

"Eagle Five to Eagle King, Skgorrians are away, Skgorrians are away!"
"King to Five, I see 'em."
"Six to Eagle! Anti-aircraft fire! Triple-A!"
"King to Eagle, 'ware canno-"

The MiGs broke and dived for the ground as their leader's craft rained down upon the city below. The dull krump of the explosion reverberated around the skyscraper canyons and drowned out the steady thud-thud of anti-aircraft cannons belonging to loyalist units of the APM. Fingers of tracer searched the daytime sky, probing towards the Ilyushins and the falling paratroopers...

10:40, Kurskograd:

As the anti-aircraft guns barked to life, AUF troops were engaged in a deadly firefight throughout the city. Across the country, AUF sympathisers had risen, siezing control of much of the nation - but they were not unopposed. Most Atopians had weapons, and almost all had some military training. The rapid coup was quickly becoming a bloodbath.

Only the Skgorrians could tip the balance now...

"AA fire! AA fire!" screamed the co-pilot as the sky lit up with fire. The pilot yanked back the yoke and the IL-76 ponderously climbed up. Checking his radar, he saw the Migs had taken losses and were diving.
"We're hit! We're hit!" one of the transports had been hit and was falling at an unrecoverable rate, slashing through the parachutes of several soldiers and sending them tumbling to their deaths. The AA fire was also ripping through the paratroopers, but luckily the first waves were nearly at the ground.

Major Petersen hit the ground hard and quickly tore off his 'chute. He had landed on target, near the Central Council building. Around him the city had burst into chaos and running battles were erupting all over the city. Petersen cocked his AK and raised it up to his shoulder, looking around. He could see that most of his troops had landed and a few were in eyesight. He switched on his helmet radio, "All units, All units. Report to Primary RV with all due haste, Report to Primary RV". Petersen then sprinted to the cordon around the Central Council building and bellowed at the nearest soldier, "who's in charge here?"

The MiGs had begun attacking the Tunguska-Ms which had shot down their comrade - it was dangerous work. Already a MiG had hit a skyscraper, and another had been blown apart by a stream of 30mm shells. Still the AAA fire thumped up from static and mobile positions throughout the city. Here and there shoulder-launched SAMs streaked up to join the Tunguska's firepower.

As armed men sprinted towards the Council building, blackshirted members of the AUF began to level weapons at them - then they recognised the uniforms and began to cheer.

"I'm in charge," declared Frank, as she walked to the paratroop officer, "you're Petersen, right? Good to see you. What do you need?"

Petersen's spirits were lifted by the cheering. Can't remember the last time we got cheered by anyone he thought. His thoughts snapped back to the present.
"That's right, I'm Petersen," he nodded. Quickly glancing around, he saw Skgorrians streaming towards the Central Hall, but far less than the 500 men that made up the battallion.
"I need medical attention for my wounded, and then I need some targets. For some reason the Fuhrer has decided my elite troops are to bleed and die for your coup. I've got some AT capability but if you have some spare RPGs or something that would be helpful."

As if to punctuate Petersen's point, an ancient T-55 rumbled around the corner of a building and began ineffectually firing its machine gun at the troops around the Council Hall. A Skgorrian trooper unslung his Grail and fired it, the rocket striking the tank and exploding it in a huge fireball.

"We don't have many of those," stated Petersen, "I'd rather save them for heavies like the T-72 or T-80."

At a gesture, AUF medics ran up to take charge of the Skgorrian wounded. A few short conversations, and a jeep raced towards the square, piled with RPG-29s and RPG-7s.

"I think you'll find," grinned Frank, "that we have RPGs to spare and then some. Now - come on, follow me, we need to seize the main TV building!"

Racing off, she grabbed her AKSU off her aide - following her were troops of her Lifeguard century, and following them; tanks, technicals, and more AUF soldiers. Others broke away in small parties to hunt out the AA units, and yet more began digging in around the Council building.

The coup had become civil war...

"First things first, I need to sort my men out. Sargeant-Major!" an older Skgorrian came running up and saluted.
"Sah!"
"I need a headcount of our operational men, and sort those weapons out. Carry on."
"Sah!" the soldier ran off and began sorting things out in the efficent manner that only experienced NCOs can manage. No more Skgorrians were coming into the cordon, but the sounds of gunfire had not died down and if anything seemed to be intensifying.

"We'll wait until my men are combat-ready, otherwise we're useless to you." Petersen stated, scanning the plaza for any hostiles. Soon the sargeant-major came running back and saluted.
"Sah, 296 made it to the cordon, 238 are fit to fight. Most of 1st Company survived, the rest is a scrabble of 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th. Captain Yuklig is with the wounded"
"Thankyou sargeant-major." Petersen then spoke into his radio,
"1st and 2nd Companies, prepare to move. Remainder will stay here under Captain Yuklig unless our allies say otherwise."

"In your own time," yelled Frank, "I've left some men to help you find your way to the TV station."

"Damnit woman!" Petersen cursed, "why can't you wait?" The situation in the capital was precarious enough, and now that Frank had run away without her backup, it only made things worse.

"Women eh?" chuckled a random Skgorrian crouched down at the makeshift barricade as he let off a 3-round burst towards a running Atopian that missed. "Thank the Fuhrer we don't have any of them in this outfit."

"Right you are soldier," confirmed Petersen as he clapped the soldier on the shoulder. "Aim a little higher." The soldier elevated his rifle and let off another burst, which ripped into the Atopian's chest and dropped her.

"Excellent shot soldier" Petersen congratulated the soldier and looked around for 1st and 2nd companies. He saw they were all assembled and ready to move.
"1st and 2nd on me!" Petersen yelled, and the soldiers began to move. He looked around for a guide or someone to tell him where on earth he was supposed to lead his soldiers...

"Major Petersen, I presume," began a youthful looking soldier with Captain's pips, "I'm your guide. Would you like some transport, or will we be proceeding on foot?"

Meanwhile, the convoy had run into trouble. An Atopian loyalist unit had ambushed them half-way to the TV station. Already, a BMP-2 had brewed up, charred and burning corpses scattered around it where they'd fallen. Gunfire rattled back and forth between the pinned convoy's vehicles and the loyalists as a tank grumbled forwards to push aside the BMP...

"We'll move out on foot, any transport will just be vulnerable." Petersen's last experience of using transport in a hostile urban environment ended rather horribly.

Both companies of Skgorrian were ready and eager to move out. Hostile fire coming from outside of the cordon was steadily decreasing, and Petersen hoped it was due to the proficency of the Skgorrian paratroops rather than the Atopian loyalists were setting a trap...

"An excellent decision, Major. If you'd like to follow me, we can be on our way. I've arranged for some air support, they should be on-station within the next few minutes."

So saying, the young Captain moved off, AK at the ready, flanked by the few AUF men and women of his command unit. As they passed the barricades, AUF troopers saluted the Captain, regardless of the sporadic shooting...

A mile away, the T-95 had got the convoy moving again. They were ahead of schedule, and localised resistance had finally been suppressed thanks to the liberal use of the tank's main gun.

"First and Second, with me!" Petersen lead his men out of the barricade, admiring the salutes that the Captain recieved. Such discipline is to be commended, there is indeed promise in these Atopians

The Skgorrians kept close behind the Atopians, the worst thing that could happen would be for the Skgorrians to lose their guide and get lost. Reports came in over the Skgorrian radio-net indicating the column was moving out in good order, and that Captain Yuklig was maintaing a strong defence of the barricades.

Moving rapidly, but keeping to cover and remembering the FIBUA lessons learnt in the numerous border skirmishes between Atopian, Grossetapen and Skgorrian troops, the Atopians advanced inexorably towards the TV station, and Frank's advance convoy.

All around were the scars of war - bullet holes, shattered windows, scattered corpses, and loose brass. Gunfire echoed through the streets, joined in the distance by the thuk thuk thuk of rotor blades.

Frank, some distance ahead of her reinforcements, grinned as she double-tapped a militiaman. Already her body armour had stopped a bullet, and she was bleeding from at least a dozen shrapnel wounds. She didn't care. Power - ultimate power - was within her grasp. A hundred and fourteen years of anarchism would die today, and then...

"A new age," she yelled, "A new, fascist age, lead by the new fascist woman!"

Remarkably, the Skgorrians had taken no casualties as it seemed the militia were falling back as if something greater was concerning them. Petersen wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Up ahead, Petersen saw the AUF guides move into cover and support what appeared to be a besieged convoy.
"1st Company, Double-time! Second Company, stay in reserve!" Petersen screamed and the lead group of Skgorrians ran up to cover, ducking behind wrecked vehicles and any other protection they could find. He turned to the nearest astonished Atopian and yelled,
"Who's in charge here?"

"Ah, our reserves! Grud, you were fast. In charge? Ma'am Frank, twelve vehicles ahead. Watch for snipers," snarled the top cover man, as he tore through 50 rounds from his RPK, "the fuckers have us pinned thanks to their tactic of punching out the lead vehicles. There's a T-95 up ahe"

The gunner's face registered surprise as the back of his head exploded in a mist of blood and bone. For a couple of seconds, he stayed upright - then he slumped backwards into the body of the softskin GAZ jeep.

Rifle and machine-gun fire intensified as the convoy responded. BMP's thudded 76mm shells into nearby buildings, 30mm cannon chatter-barked a furious crescendo over the deeper, flatter bang of the T-95's main gun - and, overlaid, the intermittent shrieking roars of RPG. Interlaced throughout the symphony of battle came the screams...

Petersen didn't bother checking the Atopian, he was clearly dead. Instead he focused on putting fire in the direction where the rounds had come from that killed the gunner. He looked around for the guides that had lead him here but Petersen couldn't see the young Captain.

"1st Company, we're going to move up into the convoy. 2nd Company will remain in reserve."Petersen advanced up the convoy, weaving through clusters of soldiers and vehicles. Clumps of Skgorrians set down at regular intervals to support the AUF troops as they attempted to fight off the crossfire. He saw the T-95 ahead, and devised a plan to eliminate it.
"1st Squad on me!" he bellowed, sprinting into a nearby building and running through a bullet-shattered door with 8 paratroops following close behind. It was a standard high-rise apartment block, and Petersen was heading for the stairs. Deciding that the loud gunfire would probably cover their movement, and as that time was of the essence, Petersen opted for speed over stealth.

After ascending a couple of floors, Petersen halted at a door that he hoped lead to a room facing the street. He gave the hand signal for a grenade to be thrown in after he kicked the door down, and the squad's corporal nodded in compliance.
3, 2, 1... and he gave a mighty kick that knocked the door open. The grenade followed shortly which exploded with a thump. The Skgorrians swarmed in to find they'd just effectively demolished the contents of an abandoned 1-room apartment.

"Stay away from the windows" Petersen cautioned as he edged towards the window. He peered through it...and sure enough it was overlooking the street on which the convoy was fighting for its life.
"Get an RPG on that tank," he turned and pointed out of the window. A Skgorrian trooper rushed over, unslinging the RPG on his shoulder. He smashed the window open with the end of the launcher before loading a rocket and aiming it out of the window.
"Fire in the hole!" he bellowed, firing the RPG towards the T-95...

Puptering?

What does that mean?

Nvm.

There was an enormous flash of flame and, a second later, a crack-bam as the RPG's warhead detonated on the turret's armour. As the smoke cleared, the turret began rotating towards the window, its stowage burning and turret HMG shattered.

Down in the street, the firefight continued to rage back and forth - but slowly, inexorably, the AUF forces were gaining the upper hand. Their tank and armoured cars' heavier weapons were seeing to that.

"Stop," screamed the Captain, as he sprinted into the room, "you fools! That's our tank! Our men!"

"WHAT?" spat an enraged Petersen, "then why the hell was its turret turned around and firing on your men?" Without waiting for a reply, Petersen called over the rest of the squad.

"Drokk it, put down some fire or something out that window. I'm not having us race all the way up here for nothing." A Skgorrian ran forward and started firing his RPK out the window whilst the rest of the men attempted to stiffle their laughter. Eventually they gave up and gales of laughter erupted from the paratroops, much to the disdain of Petersen.

"Enough! All of you!" he snapped, ending his humiliation for the time being.

"It wasn't, Major, it was firing on a machine-gun nest. No matter. No-one was killed. We need to get moving. If we stay here they'll bog us down - come with me, we need to get to Ma'am Frank."

So saying, the Captain and his men began moving out of the room. Down below, in the street, the tank - having been informed about the blue-on-blue - turned its main gun on a militia position up ahead.

The lighter vehicles of the convoy had begun moving again, heading past the bodies and scattered debris, towards the TV station.

"On me men!" Petersen lead the Skgorrians down the stairs with the Captain and back out into the street. Sure enough, the convoy was moving again but the accompanying infantry could keep pace on foot.

"1st and 2nd, follow the convoy." Petersen ordered and was pleased to see a liberal sprinkling of his men amongst the Atopians. The firing had ceased on both sides of the convoy and at the rear, but it seemed there was still resistance up ahead.
"Sir, this is Captain Beckenbauer of the 2nd. We've lost 14 men and 1st reports 8 dead. 9 wounded are in the convoy's vehicles." came the report over the radio.
"Why so many dead?"Petersen demmanded
"Tank attack, it came THROUGH a damn building and caught almost a quarter of 2nd in a single shellblast. We RPG'd it though."
"Understood, keep pace." Petersen signed off and attempted to look for Frank. He thought he saw her and ran over, taking care to look around for hostiles...

As the Captain raced out into the street, keeping low, he staggered and fell, dying. His men paused just long enough to grab his webbing and fling him into the back of a light truck already overloaded with the wounded.

Meanwhile, as the Skgorrian paratroopers ran alongside the convoy, Frank's ADC slapped her on the thigh.

"Ma'am," he yelled up to her, "the Skgorrian CO wants to talk to you!"
"Right," she replied, "you take top cover, I'll talk to the Skgorrian."

The two changed places, Frank pausing just long enough to squeeze off one last burst of fire at the enemy before she dropped back into the body of the command vehicle. A signalman opened the side door, and gestured to someone outside...

Outside Kurskograd, on the Patellan Hill:

"Comrades, the AUF uprising has so far seized some 35 to 40 percent of the country. We must count ourselves fortunate that only 25 percent more is engaged in combat. We have surrounded the capital, and it is only a matter of time before this coup d'etat fails. Until then, however, we must fight to the last breath to prevent the vile rot that is fascism taking hold. Understood?"

The affirmative reply echoed off the walls of the bunker, and with it, the die was cast. 100,000 men and women of the Atopian People's Militia began moving off the hills and out of the woods and into the outskirts of Kurskograd. It was surrounded, besieged, and in conflict. All across the country, brother turned on sister and mother on father as the coup bogged down and matured into fully-fleged, brutal, civil war...

Petersen saw the Atopian gesture to him,
"Follow the convoy" he instructed the squad before clambering into the vehicle admist the sounds of gunfire.
"Ma'am Frank, we're here. How can we bleed and die for you?" He asked, throwing a casual salute with his free hand, using the other to hold onto his rifle.

Staging Area, Atopian-Skgorrian Border

"Latest photos are in sir" reported an Air Force officer as he spread them out on the planning table. "It seems that Kurskograd is about to come under siege, a large column of Atopians are moving in."

"Get another bird in the air," demmanded the Army General, "i want updates every hour."

"As ordered sir," the junior officer ran off to get another spy plane in the air.

The General surveyed his maps for one last time before giving his orders:

"Attack the Grand Line"

"Well, Major, you can start by providing cover for the convoy. Our dismounts need support, and you've got the ability. When we reach the TV station I want you to be the first in - you're shock troops, after all."

The Grand Line:

Jensen couldn't believe his eyes. He moved his head away from the periscope, shook his head, blinked, and looked again.

No change.

Off in the distance, past the four-mile-deep minefields, past the tank traps, the obstacles, the 160 foot wide concrete ditch, past the electric border fence, past the razorwire entanglements... past all that, the Skgorrians were moving. Forwards. In force.

As if in a dream, he hit the General Alarm button, and stood up. The time had come, as he'd always known it would.

"Jawohl Fraulein!" assented Petersen with a wink. He then leapt out into the war-filled street.
All units, follow the convoy. We're going to provide support for the convoy he ordered over the radio. Slapping the side of the APC, he yelled
"Let's go!" and lifted the rifle up to his shoulder.

The Grand Line

The Skgorrian stopped a few hundred metres before entering maximum artillery range from the Atopian defenders. A stream of missiles flew overhead and slammed into the ground ahead of the Skgorrians, devastating the razor wire and levelling sections of wire and anti-tank ditches. As all this happened, several trucks pulled up and stopped.
"Out, out!" yelled the Special Action Division soldiers as they threw down the tail gates and forced the riders out of the trucks. They were several thousand former inhabitants of Ventersdorp, tired and confused.
"Cross the Grand Line and you are free!" announced a Major with a megaphone. Initially there was no movements, but the Special Action Division men soon persuaded the Ventersdorpians to move along into the Grand Line.
"You're free now, black scum," smirked the SA Major as the first of the Ventersdorpians moved into the minefield. Explosions shredded many of them, and whilst some made to turn back SA squads put down fire that slaughtered any who turned back...

The convoy ground forwards, picking up the pace now that the Skgorrian paratroopers were providing a hard edge to the AUF infantry support. Soon, they'd reach the central TV station - a mere half an hour behind schedule.

The Grand Line:

On the wall behind Comrade-Line-Commander Pazan was a diagram. It showed the full extent of the seven mile wide Fortified Strip between the Grand Lines' bunker network and the Skgorrian-Atopian border.

"Border," it read, " then: 10 foot high electrified fence; 1/4 mile deep anti-tank and anti-personnel mixed minefield; 100' wide, 50' deep ditch (mined); razorwire 1/2 mile deep (mined); anti-tank obstacles (1/4 mile deep); barbed wire 1/2 mile deep; 4 mile wide minefield, mixed; anti-tank ditch 100' wide, 50' deep, sheer reinforced concrete walls, mined, filled with water and spikes; 1 mile of mixed mines, below belts of razor and barbed wire; 600 yards open ground (Killing Zone)."

It was the culmination of over a centuries' defence expenditure. Every year had seen the reinforcement of the Grand Line - and all for just such a day as today...

"The fools," laughed the commander, "They'll smash themselves to pieces with a frontal assault!"
"Comrade," began his aide, "I must tell you that they are, it appears, using prisoners and undesireables to breach the first minefield."
"No matter. They won't get through a quarter of a mile of mines. Order the guns to stop firing until they've got targets attempting to cross the first ditch."
"Yes, comrade."
"Also, inform all the comrades that this is a fight to the death. The Skgorrians mean to kill us all - or they will by the time they reach the Killing Zone. Not one inch backwards!"
"No, comrade!"
"Long live Atopiana!"
"Action!"
"Unity!"

The briefing finished, the commanders turned to their situation map. The guns had fallen silent, and the observers watched, silently, as the hapless Skgorrian prisoners blew themselves to shreds in the first of many minefields...

As the convoy worked its way through the battered city, the resistance began to intensify as they moved nearer and neared to the TV station. Privately, Petersen wondered when this air support was going to mobilise...

The Grand Line

"Looks like the last of our prisoners are dead sir" stated the aide-de-camp as he lowered his field glasses.
"Damn shame," stated the Field Marshall, "they didn't clear too many of the mines. Order the artillery to begin clearing the mines, and move Reserve Corps III to move up to the fore."
"As ordered sir," the aide took out his radio and began issuing orders. Soon shells began to fall and exploded in a narrow channel on the Grand Line. It seemed like the Skgorrians were concentrating their fire in order to clear a channel through the many defences...

Just as the convoy burst into Mannesan Square, opposite the central TV statio, two Hind-D gunships appeared. Their chin guns roared, rocket pods ripple-flashed and their door guns chattered. The impacts blasted apart the facade of the TV station, blowing corpses into the air like ragdolls. The defenders responded with vicious fire - one of the Hinds exploded, showering the square with shrapnel. The second pivoted on its axis, nose down, and shredded the offending SAM trooper.

Frank, in the lead vehicle, returned to the 12.7mm machine gun, blurting out burst after burst as her soldiers dismounted and fanned out under the cover of the convoy's guns...

The Grand Line:

"They're blasting a path, comrade!"
"As expected. Wait until they're in the middle of it, then spread some cluster munitions across them. Use... rocket batteries 234 through 242."
"Yes, comrade."

Inside the bunkers, gunners and artillerists, stripped to the waist, heaved rockets into their tubes as the orders came through...

Once more into the breach... Petersen advanced towards the TV station, squeezing off short bursts with his rifle. The few armoured vehicles that had been stationed around the TV station had been destroyed between the Hinds, Atopian infantry, Skgorrian paratroops and the guns of the convoy. Seeing Frank, Petersen yelled over to her:
"We've got to get inside! Get your convoy to focus fire on the TV station, I'm taking my men in." He clicked his radio,
Men, follow me into the crucible! he ordered, and the Skgorrians surged towards the TV station, weapons blazing.

The Grand Line

"Path is being cleaned sir," the aide-de-camp reported as he moved back into the command tent in which the Field Marshall sat with his maps and tables.
"Fantastic!" beamed the Field Marshall, "order the Corps forward. Order their artillery to move forward as well and establish a counter-battery base. Doubtlessly we'll encounter some fire."
The Corps moved forward...

Watching the Skgorrian Major go, Frank smiled. Petersen, was it, she thought, yes, Petersen... I hope you survive, Major. Even as she finished, she was waving her troops forwards, forwards, always forwards.

Under the punishing fire of the defenders, the attacking Atopians were taking heavy casualties. A BRDM exploded. The T-95, immobilised, pounded away with its main gun. Most of the Atopians stalled in their advance - hitting the dirt and laying down covering fire for their fellows and the Skgorrians...

The Grand Line:

"They're through."
"Fire."

The simple command echoed through the rocket batteries. As one, they ripple-fired their short-range cluster-bomb-carrying rockets. 50, every ten seconds for two minutes, roared away from their launchers, taking mere seconds to cover the six miles to the advancing Skgorrians. Then, they exploded. Thousands upon thousands of bomblets burst and roared...

Petersen reached the outside wall of the TV station and searched for a way in. He saw Skgorrians and Atopians falling, but a large ammount of the Skgorrians were crossing the killing ground successfully.
How the funk are we going to get in...doors will be barricaded...how to get in... he looked around and saw a small hole in the wall at ground level caused by a stray rocket. The hole looked small, but big enough to crawl through. Dropping to his knees, Petersen poked his head through and saw nothing. He quickly scrabbled through and stood up in what appeared to be a regular office. Scanning the room with his rifle, he saw no-one so he poked his head back through the hole and looked for a Skgorrian. Seeing one man, Petersen yelled,
"You there! In here!" Bemused, the Skgorrian clambered through and was followed by a few more. Soon, Petersen had 9 men in the room.
'We need to get to the entrance, move it!"

The Grand Line

Reserve Corps III was mostly comprised of old men and those who had been dishonourably discharged. As such, it was not the pride of the Skgorrian Army and did not perform as such. Comprised of 3 Infantry Divisions, they had been tightly packed into the narrow corridor cleared by the artillery.

This proved excellent for the Atopian gunners, who quickly obilerated the first units to come into range. Progress was made in cleaning the minefield and a few rounds of counter-battery fire were fired back, but soon Reserve Corps III had ceased to exist as an effective fighting force. Thousands of men and women were turned into bloody chunks under the devastating force of artillery fire...

The cry went up, "They're in!"

At the same time, the returning Hind plastered the roof with gunfire before leaving, trailing smoke from a punctured fuel line.

Frank, hearing the cries of jubliation, urged her troops forwards once more...

The Grand Line:

"Observers report that the first wave has been repulsed."
"Excellent. Order a minelaying strike to fix the breach."
"At once, comrade!"

The order, relayed to the minelaying batteries, released a second salvo of cluster rockets. These, however, were mines, not impact-detonation munitions...

Petersen motioned for his men to follow him and to be silent, moving tactically. He stopped briefly to look at a floorplan in an attempt to locate the entrance, which he saw was on the other side of the building.
"I'm on point," he whispered, the other paratroops nodding and checking their rifles. Petersen and the paratroops moved swiftly but silently down a corridor until he stopped at a right-angle turn.
"The entrance area is roughly 20 metres on the other side of this turn," he whispered to his men, "I want an RPG and smoke to cover us whilst we move down there. We have to secure the area, on 3. 1, 2,3!" A Skgorrian leaned around the corner and saw several Atopians taking cover behind a large reception desk, which he fired at with his RPG. 3 smoke grenades were thrown and Petersen moved around the corner and started firing...

The Grand Line

"Sir, Reserve Corps III has just been wiped out."
"What?" fumed the Field Marshall, "so soon? Damn, get 3rd Air Fleet on the horn. We may have to go for Damocles on this one."
"Damocles sir?" gasped the aide-de-camp, "but thats..."
"Silence man, and get me a radio!"

Numerous observors saw the Atopian efforts to re-fill the minefield, this had been expected. The next Corps readied itself to move into the breach...

As the defenders gunfire began to slacken now that the Skgorrians were in the building, Frank ordered her driver through the main entrance. The APC smashed its way inside, closely followed by yelling, screaming, AUF troops. From the other side of the building came a dull crump, followed by gunfire...

The Grand Line:

"They're moving forwards again, comrade."
"It's magnificent, but it's not war..."

Petersen was glad he hadn't ordered his men down the hall where the Atopian APC had made a sudden and violent entrance. Reports were flooding in over his radio indicating that outside resistance was fading and more and more Skgorrian soldiers were entering the building. Seeing a stairwell, Petersen and his squad began to climb.

The Grand Line

2 more Corps moved into the crack in the Grand Line, still suffering casualties from the mines but not as many as the first wave. As the two Corps moved forward, they attempted to establish an artillery base for counter-battery fire. Artillery from the Skgorrian side of the Grand Line continued to fire at the defenses...

Seeing the Skgorrians going up, Frank ordered her troopers to clear the lower levels.

"Take the building intact," she ordered over her radio, "we need the broadcasting equipment!"

The Grand Line:

The constant, distant thudding impacts of the Skgorrian artillery shells was beginning to grate. But the Atopian soldiers, AUF and Anarchist alike, continued to load and fire their big guns. Deep underground, in the barrack bunkers, the troops of the Grand Line Columns played cards and debated the merits or otherwise of the AUF...

Petersen moved up the stairwell with his troopers. He saw a sign labelled "Studio 1C" pointing to a door leading off the stairwell which he cautiously opened and moved in. Sure enough, he was in the middle of a studio that seemed to be for a soap opera. There were no signs of Atopian militia, but he kept his eyes open as his men fanned out into the studio....

The Grand Line

The force moving through the Grand Line had finally broken through to the Killing Ground, though now less than 3 divisions were combat-effective. As they moved out onto the Grand Line, APCs and tanks raced across the Killing Ground taking extremely heavy fire as artillery fired smoke shells in order to blind the defenders.

At the rear, 6th Panzer Army moved into the breach. The Skgorrians smelled blood...

Moving down, into the basement levels, Frank's men encountered little resistance - of course, the flame-thrower team was certainly encouraging mass surrender...

The Killing Zone:

As the Skgorrian divisions broke into the last 600 yards, the fearsome might of the Grand Line was revealed.

From over a thousand armoured turret, guns blazed. Mortar bombs and rockets exploded amongst the Skgorrians whilst autocannon, chainguns, heavy machine guns, anti-tank cannon, recoilless rifles, and infantry weapons roared as one...

"Area secure sir" reported a paratrooper.
"Excellent," Petersen was pleased. "We'll move further up and let Frank know this floor is secure." As the squad moved up into the stairwell, Petersen shouted down.
"Someone down there tell Frank Studio 1C has been cleared!"

The Grand Line

Sure enough, the survivors of X and XVI Corps that had broken into the Killing Ground soon ceased to be combat effective units. However 6th Panzer Army was following soon behind, using smoke launchers to provide as much concealment as possible. Mechanised units were racing across the Killing Ground just as units from 3rd Air Fleet fired cruise missiles at the now-exposed Atopian gun postions...

"Studio 1C is clear!"
"Excellent. Get the Propaganda Company up there at once!"

The Killing Zone:

The shooting continued. Cruise missiles exploded like rain, knocking out several of the gun positions - but not enough. The 600 yards in front of the Grand Line was becoming choked with corpses and wrecks...

As Petersen headed up the stairs, he glanced down and saw a bunch of smartly-dressed Atopians heading into the studio he had just cleared.
"where are the damn anarchists?" he wondered aloud as he continued to climb

The Grand Line

The Atopian guns took a horrendous toll upon the 6th Panzer Army, but through sheer weight of numbers a large force of Skgorrians made it to the Line. Rather than attempt to break through, the force split in half and headed up and down the Line, decimating weapon emplacements and artillery units.

Meanwhile, another 2 Armies were moving up. The Skgorrians were now comitting in force...

Deep in the basement level, Private Bloggs made a disturbing discovery.

"Shit."
"What is it?"
"This place is fucking mined! Get out! Get out, now!"

The Grand Line:

"The fools are driving up and down the line!"
"Then they're doomed."

Even as the commander spoke, the interlocking fields of fire of the defensive weapons along the line were echoing his words with flying metal. 6th Panzer Army would be broken on the line...

The Grand Line

As the last of 6th Panzer Army died, it was easy to see that the Atopian defences had been sevrely dented. Now was the time for the Skgorrians to send in their elite troops.

Coming on to the killing ground was Battlegroup Firestorm, with 5th SS Panzer "Zionbane" in the lead. Following behind was Battlegroup IV lead by "Grand Skgorria" division. The SS soldiers raced across the clear ground, guns blazing, with the Army following close behind...

The Grand Line:

As the first of the third - or was it fourth - wave of attackers poured across the now exhausted minefields, their banners fluttering, panic began to spread within the Grand Line.

Zionbane were coming.

Within minutes, the section of the Grand Line facing the Skgorrian assault had locked down and ceased fire, the gun crews hiding, having abandoned their weapons...

Petersen had lead his men all the way to the top of the building without encountering any resistance. As he kicked the door open that lead to the rooftop, he saw some anarchists had set up an AA gun that was opening fire on presumably AUF-loyal aircraft, and they were unaware as. Petersen ran onto the rooftop, firing a grenade from his under-slung launcher that impacted on the weapon. Shots from the paratroopers coming up behind him added to his fire...

The Grand Line

"Sir!" the aide-de-camp reported excitedly, "Firestorm and IV have broken through!"
The Field Marshall set down his cup of tea, "excellent, move our other groups through the path now! It is imperative that we get as many troops through that path before the Atopians respond in force. Call 3rd Air Fleet and have run a few birds over the area, I want to see the Atopian troop movements."
"Yes sir!" the aide-de-camp saluted. "Imagine that sir, we finally broke through the Grand Line. Guess the anarchist propaganda will seem rather silly now."

Battlegroups Firestorm and IV breached the line and were moving out to secure a perimeter to move other troops through. A now seemingly conitinuous stream of Skgorrians was moving through the path and over the bodies of thousands of their comrades, this was to be the biggest operation ever in Skgorrian military history

"Run," screamed Frank down her radio, "get out, get out, it's a trap! Fall back!"

Her BMP-3 reversed, jerkily, and was followed by AUF men, fleeing, all semblance of discipline lost. She shot one for cowardice, and discipline returned...

The Grand Line:

"They've broken through."
"No matter. Shell them with everything we have."
"Comrade, at once!"

Minutes later, guns for miles around began to shell the advancing Skgorrians...

Upon hearing the AUF advice over the radio, Petersen began issuing orders of his own.
Out, out NOW!
"Abseil kit out men, to the ground ASAP" Petersen ordered. The troopers on the roof began opening their webbing and soon withdrew ropes and carabiners. Hastily they attached their kit and zoomed down the building, smoke coming off their gloves due to the speed. Soon all of the Skgorrians had withdrawn from the building and were back to the AUF cordon.

The Grand Line

Leaving Battlegroup IV to hold the line and continue the artillery duel, Battlegroup Firestorm moved to attack an approaching Atopian formation...

As they watched, the TV station belched smoke, shuddered, and collapsed. The explosion punched out a wall of sound, air pressure, and debris that flattened troops, damaged buildings, dented armoured vehicles and shattered walls...

"Fuck!" shouted Frank, "right, to the secondary objective - radio station!"

Even as the lighter debris pattered off the BMP's roof, it screeched away through the streets, flag flying, followed closely by Frank's bodyguard...

Atopian Territory, behind the Grand Line:

The formation approaching the advance units of Zionbane was one of the first to be equipped with the latest generation of military equipment. The eight All-Purpose Armoured Vehicles racing forwards to engage were armoured against all but a direct hit to the rear armour from a main gun shell. They mounted three-shot AT-rockets, automated 130mm APFSDS-firing main guns, and 25mm coaxial chainguns. Inside each vehicle were four troopers of the AWPM's premier unit, the Free Earth Army. This single platoon were about to cause the most significant defeat on the SS - ever.

Halting for barely a moment, the 32 FEA soldiers leapt out, their camouflaged armour-suits blending into the terrain in seconds. As they took cover in fire scrapes, their APAVs drove forwards, guns blazing at a range of 2000 metres - as accurately as if they were sitting still on the range.

The infantry began loading their depleted uranium armour-piercing ammunition, and readying their shoulder-launched anti-tank rockets for engagement if any of the SS survived the attack by the APAVs...