NationStates Jolt Archive

Prologue - Part I

"It is in these sacred truths that we find our heritage. Where we can trace our bloodline back to the Gods. Through our sins we have stained the white cloth of our soul. And none so more tainted than the cloth of our country."

December 10, 1966

It was winter in Comberth, but it felt like summer. The palm trees swaying in the wind. Michael Daniels was sitting down on a wooden pier next to his friend, Olaf Macker. A TV set was blaring out static and crappy black and white images next to them, it was wired up to an electrical box at the base of the pier.

"Communist....ann....elect...." The parabolic antenna was apparently having difficulty picking up signals all the way from Faturo.

"God damned thing. I hate it!" screamed Olaf. Both men were in their early twenties, dipping their feet into the cool, clear water of Comberth Harbor. Across the harbor they could plainly see the Republic's first nuclear submarine being built, the VSS Oedipus. It was an honor to be working on such a ship.

Less of an honor to be working as janitors. Technically, they were very close to being fired because of their lazy behavior. And they were, at this time at least, supposed to be cleaning the supervisor's office and kissing the Admiral's ass.

"And this is where our story begins. We turn our thoughts back to the beginning. Back to the time when our cloth was polluted the most, and no end was in sight to the sins of our brethren."

Hivez
Presidential Palace

As President elect, Villa Ananko now wielded supreme authority over the Presidential Guard. They did his bidding without question. His first act of his 'Presidency' was to remove all Guard surveillance on Alvin Johnson, the current President of the Republic.

And there he was, standing tall and proud before Mr. Johnson. Rising over the oak desk which symbolized pure capitalism. Where profit was a multi headed serpant, and the laborer was the slave.

"So unfortunate, Mr. Johnson. It seems the people have finally lost faith in a President with clear and present ties to the bourgeoisie. They have elected a socialist leader to fulfill the inevitable transition from your society to pure communism."

"Screw you, Ananko, we both know why you won the election. Urez International's votes count more than every citizen on the continent. And there's no way in the Seven Hells they would elect a communist!"

"Now, now. No need to be rash and dismiss my election simply because the wealth of this nation shall no longer sit by twelve men." Ananko then raised his palm to Mr. Johnson's throat, and yanked a necklace from it. It was the Undefied Necklace of Government. Only the President was allowed to wear it, and a President elect couldn't become President without it.

According to the Constitution of 1700. The necklace commanded supreme authority. The government, the people, even the Church, all should bow before he who wielded it. Whatever command the wielder gave, government was to follow.

"I officially dismiss you of your post Mr. Johnson...and, on your way out, tell the greedy pigs who call themselves 'Congress', that they are no longer needed."

"You'll pay for this...you bastard, I swear you'll pay." Alvin Johnson walked off into the cold, winter night. But before he left for the capital complex and disbanded congress; a black car drove off from the parking lot. Inside were Mr. and Mrs. Fortstall, two people he closely trusted. He had no clue why Mr. Fortstall looked so anxious, nor why he was speeding, but, it did not matter now.

Prologue - Part II

December 12, 1966
Operation Gelnikos

The blaring of air raid sirens. The roar of jets. The snarl of fire. Ethnic prejudice was chief among the Vuhifellians. And this was the road to war. A barrier had been passed, where peace was no longer possible, this was it.

Following the disbanding of the Congress, Villa Ananko took over the military and imposed martial law. The VA bowed spinelessly to his will. The Army was always the poorly trained, poorly equiped, conscripted masses, who fought more for personal glory or vendetta than for the good of the nations.

A few officers in the Air Force and the Navy rebelled, however. And this was the consequence. General of the Skies Harold Cart was a Valgan. Supreme Admiral Y Gyudi was an Erusean. Vice Supreme Admiral Hu Imat was a Comona. Vice Air Force General Imad Kassan was a Tylian.

As a result, Villa punished these officers, these patriots and traitors. They were of different tribes, so Operation Gelnikos was launched. A daring plan to firebomb and destroy each tribes' Holy City. Faturo, Directus, Mons, and Cor. Over 900 aircraft were mobilized, and the whistle of the bombs as they glided through the air; slicing through stone and steel, setting ablaze wood and flesh...

The "Free Military" as it had been dubbed, was so far being financed by Urez International, the Mega-Corporation that owned everything on the continent - or well near it. Instantaneously, it's leaders were incarcerated, and it's wealth was plundered, given to the 'starving masses'. In exchange, the workers of the continent agreed to join the VA and help put down the "Rebellion of Greed".

Armed with the best weapons Dollars and Rubles could buy, the Free Military boasted a superior Navy and Air Force to the regime, but all things that go up, must come down.

And so it was, a death warrant for the Free Military. Pushed farther and farther West, into the Kazachs, their enemies, doom seemed to be fated.

"It is here where the miracle of our saviors takes place. For without them, the continent would not be here today. And thus realizing that to fight was to die. To hate thine friend rather than love thine enemy, was pointless. A pact was made, one that would have glorious effects for the future. One that would spring future wars, and end current ones..."

Prologue - Part III (Final before RP Begins)

December 25, 1966
United Nations Security Council

And it was so. Even with the Soviet Union & the United States absent from the meeting, they had their own plans for Vuhifell. The other nations voted 13-0-0 in sending a United Nations Armed Force in defense of the Republican regime, and to bring Ananko to justice for the firebombings of the four cities of Cor, Mons, Faturo, and Directus. It was Korea all over again.

The Free Military had been pushed to the brink, and their numbers dwindled every day. Further and further West they went. Until they reached the coast. The Kazach Order controlled this territory. They fought for the independence of the Province of Greykan, but realized that a Republican government would be much easier to deal with than a communist one.

Kazach tanks and soldiers emerged from the hills, as if to fire upon the downtrodden soldiers fighting for their nation's liberty. Kazach Maester's, well read in their Holy Book, began to chant prayers of healing, and prayers of protection. In their native language, they blessed the retreating troops. In their honor, they hoisted a burning Soviet flag on a hill to the left of the retreat route. A burning American flag was raised to the right. Symbolizing what they were fighting for. They raised a Vuhifellian flag underneath a UN flag just along the side of the beaten dirt road.

The Commander of the Free Military met with the Grand Protector of the Kazach Order that day. They met on the highest peak in all of the West Coast. And they all agreed that day. Religion to religion, tribe to tribe, they pledged to fight their common enemy to the death. To defend the birthplace of their Great Religion: The Hrimfaxi Peninsula.

Communist forces rolled into the hills later that day, Free Military F-4 jets, refueled by their new Kazach allies, strafed the communist positions. Kazach tanks defended their positions to the last round.

It was a victory that day. The Republic had been saved by a last minute alliance. Kazach soldiers were now inhibiting the city of Farbanti. Announcing to the world that they, along with Republican forces would eventually retake the capital and hang Villa Ananko for his destruction of Holy Shrines.

"And so it was. The United Nations was en route to the continent. The Kazachs and the Republican Army fortified the West Coast, and for a time, Greykan was independent. The euphoria would not last long, however. None would imagine how much death and destruction. How much blood would have to be spilled in order to end the conflict. Nobody could imagine the horrors, and even now, nobody wants to acknowlage them. They are our forgotten history. Back to the time of gleaming heroes, devious traitors, brilliant commanders, and timeless men and women who would live in the memories of so many for so long.

Luxembourg, van Luxemburg, 1966

The black Mercedes-Benz 600 Pullman slowly pulled up the lane towards the Palace, it's tires heavily battling the snow of the december month. It was followed by another Mercedes-Benz, a 220 Ponton. The car was some years older than the brand new 600 Pullman, but performed excellently as a protection vehicle for the somewhat slow 600. After the cars' tires were dirty from the snow, and white stains had formed under the carriage, the cars finally halted at the main entrance, where a butler of the Palace personnel opened the rear door of the 600 Pullman, and allowed Prime Minister Dietrich Glaser to get out. The man immediately ran up the stairs and into the Palace, trying to protect himself from the snow falling down, aswell as the cold disrupting the perfect heat in his car.

Inside the building, he was welcomed by the Grand Duke, and invited to his office. As soon as the two men sat down, they got to business.

Dieter, goodmorning. Hot chocolate? The staff will be able to make you some.

No, thanks Cees. I'm here for the yearly report, not for drinking hot chocolate. Both men grinned after Dietrich sat down.

Errm, Yes, I'm here for the yearly report. There hasn't happened too much this year, internally. We're doing the last adaptations for our new military programme, the G3 has been completely brought into service, Leopard and Chieftains are slowly making their way into replacing the old Centurions, the Dutch have agreed to handing over the plans to the YP-408 APC, and the first American aircraft are entered in the Airforce. All C-47's are to be replaced by the German/French C-160 Transall, but since they haven't started production, we have bought C-130 aircraft from the US as an interim solution. Also, we have agreed on sending about a division of our troops to Vuhifell, as part of the UN Armed Forces there. The troops are currently busy loading up on troop ships, we expect they can be there in several weeks.

Well done, Dietrich. I will suspend this meeting because of the war in The Vuhifellian States. Please keep me posted on that war.

Naval Base Cherbourg

Several Landrover jeeps drove along the docks, followed by heavy Faun trucks, transporteing the last of the YP-408 APC's, still hot from the factory. The plans had been delivered in early 1966, and the first vehicles had been delivered to the 3rd Division last Summer. Now, the 3rd division was packing up for action. Large cranes slowly winched the vehicles into the cargo holds of the troop transports, while soldiers entered the ships by the enormous boarding entrances on the sides. Most troops already had the G3 Assault Rifles, but some still had the aging M1 Thompson Submachineguns, or even the Luxembourg + Enfield No4 rifle, a copy of the Lee-Enfield Number 4.

The Cherbourg Transport Flotilla will be leaving in mere minutes, please check if all are aboard it sounded across the yard, while families of the soldiers waved at the large ships, which slowly started their engines, with deep growling coming from the water. Several escorts already left the docks, and exited the base with the horns howling on the cold morning. After that, the transport ships were untied from the docks, and slowly began making their way towards their destination, weeks away.

January, 1967

Perched atop the many snow capped peaks of Greykan were Republican soldiers, either wielding M60's or scoped AR-15's. The cackle of occasional gunfire pierced the cold night.

It had snowed recently in Greykan, Republican air patrols kept some of Ananko's forces at bay, but not all. U-2 spy planes had reported seeing a few divisions of artillery perched atop some peaks in the Lambert Mountains. The Lambert and Amber Mountain ranges were strategically important because they overlooked the only non-mountainous way into Greykan. So far, a few Republican snipers and Kazach tanks in the Amber Mountains were enough to keep the communists from venturing into the range. So "Whiskey Corridor" as it was dubbed, the valley into Greykan, was safe.

This could not be said for all of the Republican Military though, with the capture of the Comberth Naval Yards, the communists controlled all four of the Republic's nuclear powered surface vessels. Since nuclear ships didn't need to be refueled with diesal, they blockaded Farbanti. It was tough, and the only hope they had to cling onto was to hope that Ananko didn't know about the direct oil pipeline from the small oil-town of Oured in Valgan to Farbanti.

A 1957 Plymouth Belvedere pulled onto an empty street in Farbanti. Inside was Colonel Hank Sanders, Commander-in-Chief of Republican Forces, and High General Gi NuMana, Commander of Kazach Artillery.

"I tell you, Colonel Sanders, we just can't risk sending our machines our that far. Your Air Forces have provided us with full knowledge that the communists have artillery in the mountains!" The old man was clearly agitated. Talking to young officers was always a pain.

"They can bypass the mountains if you don't! Look, their camp is here," he held up a small terrain map, bound together with countless other maps of the area, and pointed at an area just a little out of range of permanent Kazach mountain cannons. "We've confirmed it with aerial photographs, they have over 40 Centurions, and at least 4 T-64's! They could punch through our defense line of Juboku!"

"I appreciate your concern for the town of Juboku, but let's be real here Colonel! That town is nothing compared to the loss of Farbanti. If I were to send my artillery out to destroy that camp...it would put us all at risk. We must remember that we only need three more days to shuttle the last of it's residents to Farbanti."

"In those three days, three hundred could die, do you want that?"

"Three hundred is nothing compared to three million, Colonel! Give me this!" The old general grabbed the maps out of Colonel Sanders' hands, before turning to one of the latest photographs of Highway 219. The only highway to go through the mountains. "Do you see this highway! Do you see it! Do you know why we blew the highway up! It wasn't because we needed to make life harder for the residents of Juboku! It was because that encampment of tanks was beginning to roll out, and if they did, they would be inside Farbanti within hours! Just think you crazy Easterner!"

Their arguments continued, all the way to Fellway Hall, the temporary site of government.

Fellway Hall

President Alvin Johnson was no longer President, instead, it was a man named Jethro Daniels. Supervisor of Comberth Naval Shipyards, he tried to convince his brother, Michael, to come and fight with the Republican Army, but he decided to stay where he was. He wouldn't allow his son to live the life of a soldier.

"Welcome to Fellway Hall gentlemen, as you know, I called all of you to this meeting to discuss the current situations relating to the evacuation of Republican supporters."

At a long, mohogany table, the head of which was seated by Jethro Daniels, twelve generals lined its sides, on the far end was Urez International CEO, Hank Sinatra.

"Mr. Sinatra." declared Daniels, giving the table to Sinatra.

"All evacuations are going as planned, Caseri has been evacuated. So has Dredanni. Southern Sector Alpha has been evacuated. Northern Sector Delta has been too. Valais has been re-designated as the main evacuation zone HQ. But...Our good friends Colonel Sanders and High General NuMuna have had disagreements over the evacuation of Juboku."

"Really?" questioned Daniels. He knew both officers well by now. General NuManu's counsel had given the Republicans breathing room and a firm grasp on the Amber Mountains. He had said to increase air patrols in Whiskey Corridor, and as soon as the Republican F-4's showed, communist F-86 sabres fled. Allowing Allied Forces time to quickly capture the Amber Mountains, preventing communist ground forces from moving through Whiskey Corridor...

But Colonel Sanders. He was new to this game. He was a graduate of the North Point Military Academy, but could he really trust that?

"Colonel Sanders...What point are you making?"

"All I am saying, sir, is that we need to evacuate Sector Lima before it is too late for their residents!"

"You nitwit! Doing so would compromise Sector Zulu's security!" bellowed a large, hoarse, Republican general. John Fortstall was his name, and he was Supreme Commander of Allied Ground Forces. Colonel Sanders felt a large amount of blood rush into his face, and promptly sat down. Fortstall was a seasoned veteran of the War, forcing the Japanese off the continent through a series of brilliant tactical manuevers. Arguing with him was suicide for his military career.

Cherbourg Flotilla, Outside Farbanti

The troop transporters were mostly alone in the ocean, only escorted by several light escorts, while the main naval force clipped through the waves several kilometres ahead. An Aircraft Carrier of the French Clémenceau-class was escorted by two cruisers of the Dutch De Zeven Provinciën class, refitted with the new French SS.12M Anti-ship Missiles. The taskforce further had six Destroyers of the Dutch Friesland-class, which yet had to be updated to the missile generation. Ten frigates were also part of the taskforce, they were once again of Dutch origin, being the Van Speijk class Frigates, which carried the Westland Wasp helicopter. The taskforce was somewhat small, but the Navy had decided that transporting one division didn't need such a large group of ships. In fact, the taskforce was extremely lucky to have their aircraft carrier with them; Navy High Command hadn't thought of any submarine support, sadly enough.

Aboard the ZMS Diekirch, the Aircraft Carrier, Sonar crew carefully listened to the sound of the water, and used active sonar to get an idea of it's surroundings, and so did the rest of the ships. They were easily recognisable, while approaching Farbanti. It could however easily find otehr ships in it's surroundings, and it was no problem for the ships to find a few hulls on their way.

Sonar, Report please. The commander shouted through the intercom. He was answered fairly quickly, by the same intercom.

Sonar Report: 4 contacts on our heading, large. Possibly nuclear-powered. Unknown identity.

The Commander picked up his binoculars, and skimmed the horizon, but reported he didn't see anything.

Flight Deck, this is Comm. Launch a patrol, I want to see what's ahead, Report is being sent to you now.

Roger that, Report is inbound. Sending our fighters out now.

Three Étendard IV fighters were quickly rolled onto the deck, while pilots entered the aircraft ready on the flight deck. The last checks were run, and the aircraft catapulted off the deck. They all were loaded with AS.12 Anti-ship missiles, which the Navy High Command had given to the taskforce with a lot of debating between the commanders, because of the price of a single missile.

Meanwhile, the three fighters climbed to a high altitude, and looked down on the empty ocean, except for the naval taskforce, and, behind them, a huge amount of ships from the Cherbourg Flotilla, transporting the 3rd Division. The aircraft meanwhile shot through the skies at Mach 1.3, their maximum speed, While checking around for the four ships that had been left unidentificated.

"Three planes on radar!" screamed an ensign in the radar room over the telephone-intercom next to him. "Bearing 2-6-0."

"Confirmation?" asked a voice on the other end.

"They're probably a Republican patrol. Our nearest carrier in in Oured."

"Roger. Combat alert alpha!" Suddenly, several sailors got out from their quarters and manned the AAA stations dotting the ships' sides. There were two anti-air frigates, one destroyer, and one battleship. The frigates took up combat positions alongside the destroyer, leaving the battleship to sail in front of the battle group. There was a mobile flak cannon on the stern of the destroyer, along with several 75mm skysweeper cannons dotting the sides of the frigates, waiting for those white lines to appear on the horizon.

De Zeven Provinciën-class Cruiser ZMS De Zeven Provinciën

Contact is confirmed hostile, personnel is taking up positions according to sonar, send out warning, ready 152mm cannons! The Commander of the Cruiser shouted through the intercom. This was repeated by the other ships, who also readied their weaponry. Meanwhile, a transmission was sent to the Hostile ships near Farbanti

Attention Hostile Ships, this is Van Luxemburgian Taskforce Beta, This is a warning. identify yourselves, or we will open fire. I repeat, identify yourselves or we will open fire!

The three Étendards dropped down from the skies quickly, rocketing towards the ships at Mach 1.3. The pilots had problems with pulling the aircraft up again, but were able to recognise the ships as Communist. They immediately climbed back up into the skies, and made a slow turn to return diving back on the ships. Locking on their anti-ship missiles, they awaited the reply of the Vuhifellian ships, while reminding themselves the Vuhifellians would receive a shelling from the 6 152mm guns that each cruiser had aboard, while they would also be able to launch their SS.12M missiles.

Both anti-air frigates had, by now, opened full fire on the three planes. The destroyer too, firing round after round of sky-blackening flak into the air. The battleship, the mighty VSS Gertrude, a veteran from the Pacific War, wielded power over nine 254mm cannons. The deafening noises of the anti-air defenses were nothing compared to the sound of the cannons firing.

But they were not firing at the sea. The Republicans did not operate that kind of jet. Most of their air force consisted of F-4 phantom II's, or J35 Saab Draken's. No. These were foreign. Probably the United Nations forces they had learned about.

Sonar had detected a single ship coming in from the east. That, at least, was Republican. It was probably an evacuation ship.

The two large turrets on the stern of the ship, both carrying three cannons each swiveled to turn on the Republican vessel.

A deafening noise followed. It overwhelmed all other sounds, from the roar of the jets to the firing of the AAA to the humming of the ship's engines. And in just a few seconds, large, black pillars of smoke began to appear over the horizon.

The communists primitive sonar systems had, by now, picked up the UN fleet. It would just be a few seconds until the rear cannons had been reloaded, and the Gertrude could unleash all sorts of hell.

Patrol, above the Vuhifellian ships

This is 2, I'm receiving heavy fire, I have dropped ballast in the form of my missiles, No Lock. Lock and fire your missiles while you still can!

While the connection with fighter number 2 changed into static and the jet plunged into sea, with the pilot on a parachute, the other two fighters quickly headed down to the battleship, and fired the two AS.12 Anti-ship missiles, before pulling up and limping back to the carrier.

Naval Taskforce

Attention all! Lock missiles on the lighter ships, I repeat, the lighter ships, Fighters have already launched missiles at the battleship. Open fire with the main guns aswell!

Several missiles launched from the tubes onboard the cruisers, while the main guns aimed and fired aswell. Hell was unleashed from the batteries, and all ships in the taskforce fired at the various targets that were present in the "target area".

[OOC: Sorry for the delay, but I have to learn how to play the bass clarinet by December, or I'm screwed.]

IC:

"The Gertrude's been hit!"

"Relax ensign! She'll live, it's only a flesh wound, as the saying goes."

Smoke was billowing heavily from the Gertrude, toxic liquids leaking from the hull and into the Pacific Ocean, poison gas pouring in a steady black stream from the massive hole in the superstructure.

A single shell had pierced the VSS Ithaca's main weapons storage bay. The Ithaca was the destroyer escort for the battle-fleet, and itstantly it went up in flames, a massive fireball enveloping the bow of the ship. Sailors jumping off of the ship in rows, trying to reach the lifeboats that were tossed aside in the explosion, but which had survived.

One of the frigates, the VSS Agamemnon, was severely wounded. A hole in its port side wasn't burning, but it was large enough to sink the ship in an hour.

The other frigate had miraculously survived the onslaught, but it's primary usage was as an air-defense platform. It's small, 127mm cannon wasn't large enough to fire a round at the enemy ships and expect to hit anything but water - which were now clearly visible on the Gertrude's radar.

Western Communist Headquarters
Mons
-Secret IC-

"Sir General!" an aide in a brown enlisted dress uniform ran up to General Jason Rodriguez, Supreme Commander of the West People's Army. It was in 'Marx Hall' as it had been dubbed. The building had been a Urez International Regional HQ before Ananko took power. Several paintings of capitalists used to adorn the walls. Adam Smith. Henry Ford. John Keynes. Joseph Urez. The paintings were now on the floor, scheduled to be burned with the highest priority. Paintings of Lenin, Marx, and Engles now took their places.

In the aide's hand were several charts, as well as a few pages with maps.

One map in particular stood out. It was a map of Greykan...or, the Free Territories. A red line marked the former highway leading from Juboku to Farbanti. The highway was blown up by Kazach forces a few days earlier to prevent Rodriguez's divisions from getting over the mountains.

The aide whispered into the general's ears. The military sage simply smiled, and nodded towards the door at the end of the hallway.

"So." he said to himself, a few Colonels walked out a room nearby, but he did not turn his gaze towards them simply concentrating on talking to the leader of the Republicans, however many kilometers away.

"You Republicans hope to cling on to one last hope? This will end in your funeral pyre...Mr. Daniels."

OOC: Lol. Eh, did the other frigate actually fire a round? Not sure of that.

Aboard the ZMS Toulon, Clémenceau-class Carrier

Confirmed hit! We have hit the Destroyer, aswell as a frigate and a battleship. Two frigates and the Battleship are still above the water, open fire again?

The captain of the ship pointed his binoculars at the ships, which were clearly visible in the distance, with plumes of smoke coming from the battleship.

Yes. One more barrage. That's the price for our aircraft. Make a few of our Super Frelon helicopters ready to launch, I want commandos on the battleship.

The turrets of the ships began to adjust their aim, before firing simultaneously, while the two cruisers were busy reloading their anti-ship missiles and fired them a few minutes afterwards. Meanwhile, three Super Frelon helicopters had fired up their engines at the flight deck of the Toulon. A group of 81 commandos were waiting on the flight deck to join the helicopters. Two Westland Wasp ASW helicopters awaited flying next to the carrier, ready to unleash a torpedo on an opposing ship, if necessary. Meanwhile, the commandos had stormed inside the large Super Frelon helicopter, and it slowly lifted off the flight deck, heading for the Vuhifellian fleet, accompanied by the two Wasp helicopters.

They have lifted off, Sir. Anything else?

Yes. Warn the Republicans that we're coming. Ask them to ready Farbanti's port facilities, I bet those haven't been used in a while.

The aide saluted quickly, before heading off towards the communication center.


VAN LUXEMBURGIAN NAVY TASKFORCE 12, MESSAGE

ATT: REPUBLICAN HIGH COMMAND

TASKFORCE EN ROUTE TO FARBANTI STOP PLEASE READY PORT FACILITIES STOP HELP IS UNDERWAY STOP

SIGNED
ADMIRAL MAX WALDMANN
COMMANDER OF TASKFORCE 12
COMMANDER OF ZMS TOULON

[OOC: I'll post sometime later in the week. I was in Rochester, NY for the Thanksgiving weekend visiting my sisters. Sorry about the delay.]

[OOC: Hrmmm...RP or practice one octave G scale...choices?]

Farbanti

The port of Farbanti was an utter mess. It was one of only two port cities which were accessible to the Republicans. The other was the city of Lumen on the Hrimfaxi peninsula, but it was holy land. No Republican soldier had ever seen it, not even Jethro Daniels himself.

That being stated. Several ships clogged the channel into the harbour. Some of them hadn't properly sunk to the bottom, and some ships rose eerily above the waterline. They were the evacuation ships the Republicans used to evacuate the isolated islands on the southern coast. One ship in particular, the VSS September, had several bullet holes marking a symbolic flag raised over here sunken hull. A Republican Coastal Patrol had placed it there to mark the outskirts of the Free Territories.

The Farbanti Naval Station...or, what was left of it that is, took the message to prepare facilities with both jubilation and with doubt. Many of the Republicans were seasoned veterans of Korea, they knew that the foreign nations would eventually pull out if Ananko squeezed hard enough on their throats.

Farbanti Naval Station

Channel 0098.980

NAVAL FACILITIES DETROYED. LAND AT TOWN OF JUBOKU. COMMUNIST FORCES TO MOVE OUT IN 0100 HOURS.

Straits of Farbanna

Black smoke was leaking from the Gertrude at an ever increasing rate, a small rock islet lay just a few hundred meters from the battleship's current position. They might be able to beach the ship there, hopefully make it back to the coast.

A single shell had completely destroyed the last AA frigate's comms systems. They were, in a sense, alone, and escorted. Worse yet, a storm was moving in from the west. Lower visibility meant that routine Republican U2 flights would be delayed. It also meant bad news for the crew of the frigate, they wouldn't be able to spot aircraft above the clouds with their radar systems down.

VAN LUXEMBURGIAN NAVY TASKFORCE 12, MESSAGE

AKNOWLEDGED STOP TRANSPORTS WILL START UNLOADING AT JUBOKU STOP TASKFORCE WILL INITIATE PATROLS STOP

Helicopter group, near the Straits of Farbanna

The helicopters came in low, with the two Wasp helicopters flying ahead of the larger Super Frelons. They created a small storm at water level, because of the turbulence produced by the blades cutting through the air. Several crewmembers opened the doors of the Super Frelon helicopters, and had to brace themselves for the wind tearing through the cabin, before the commandoes took over and held tight to the outer skin of the helicopter, which descended quickly towards the Gertrude, with another heading for the AA frigate. Eventually, they ended just above the two ships, and the commandoes threw several lines out the helicopter. They glided down, and immediately readied their Heckler & Koch G-3's when they hit the decks. The groups took up positions hidden behind parts of the ships' hulls, and waited till everyone had arrived at the deck, and the helicopters had turned away. From the rough seas, several evacuation sloops came from the direction of the Van Luxemburgian Taskforce, and headed for the remaining ships.

Cherbourg Flotilla

With the sea slamming onto the ships, the marines aboard slowly lowered into the LCU's, while cranes lifted tanks and APC's into larger Landing Craft. The first already headed off to the shores, where the first Van Luxemburgians awaited, since they had arrived by helicopter from the ships. MBT's rolled into the sand, and troops on APC's awaited until they could have a go at driving onto the beach. Meanwhile, Landing craft returned to get their next load of soldiers. It all went without any shot fired, and the whole taskforce had landed within the hour, thanks to the massive amount of landing craft. The first to land had immediately started building improvised defences, which now consisted of tanks and APC's camouflaged as a forest and bushes, with soldiers hidden behind the vehicles and hiding in the grass. Groups set up mortars and .50 Machineguns while the last vehicles landed on the beach and got directed to their places.

Meanwhile, the village of Juboku had been completely fortified. Snipers of the 3rd divisions awaited behind windows, and Marine commandoes awaited behind several doors. The commander gave his last orders before the Communist Forces would arrive, as predicted by the Vuhifellians.

This is HQ. Hold Fire. I repeat, Hold Fire. Further orders will consist of fire orders, given when the Communists are close enough. HQ Out.

The troops checked their weaponry for one last time, and braced themselves for what was coming. They were well-camouflaged, and to the untrained eye, it seemed like a lot of vegetation suddenly popped up.

Routine U2 Patrol Flight A-0012
Southern Coastline

"This is Alpha One-Two. Alpha squadron report in"

"Alpha One-Three, reporting in."

"Alpha One-Four, reporting in."

"Roger. Fly diamond pattern. Alpha One-Three, patrol Sector Zulu. Alpha One-Four, Sector Sierra. I'll fly Sector Echo."

"Roger"

Gray clouds had already swept through Farbanti, and it was raining like a torrent. The recon flight had to return home soon. This would be a quick sweep of the area, no serious investigations.

The three U2 Dragon Lady's had been equiped with more cameras and equipment than usual. All three were carrying nine cameras of different strenghts located on different points of the aircraft. Humidity gauges, temperature gauges, radio interception equipment, and tape recorders. Alpha One-Two's patrol route was Sector Echo, just around 60 kilometers north of Juboku.

"Alpha One-Two. Log 14.25.10.01.1967 beginning photographic reconnaissance." Several hundred clicking noises could be heard throughout the cockpit. The sounds of the plane's cameras photographing the ground below. All at different angles, different zoom levels. The aircraft was flying at 7,415 meters, at subsonic speeds. With the bombing of the Trans-Greykan Highway, it was thought that communist activity in this region had ceased...

Replacing the clicking noises were now alarms, coming from all directions.

"Oh shit! Alpha One-Two, I'm being tracked! Alpha One-Three! Find the source of the signal!"

"Alpha One-Three to Alpha One-Two! Signal is coming from two kilos, heading 2-8-0. Recommend bearing south at heading 1-8-0."

"Roger. Hitting the gas!" Making a sharp, dangerous turn, the U2 turned south and accelerated immediately afterwards. Now, two more dots besides the other Alpha flights were on his radar screen. Two S-75 SAMs had been fired from communist lines just below his recon pattern. But why were they still here? The highway was destroyed. There were now no more strategic entry points in Greykan other than Whiskey Corridor and the Pacific Ocean.

Getting closer and closer, and...

Damn. He had blacked out. Was he hit? Altitude gauges say....2,400 meters! But he could see the sea, it was maybe 10, maybe 11 kilometers away. He tried to pull up...what the? Controls were jammed, and according to his gauges, he had no fuel left. Probably courtesy of the missile that hit him.

"Alpha One-Four to Alpha One-Two, recommend mission abort. Emergency landing zone at Sector Zulu, Sub Sector Bravo!"

"Juboku!?"

"It's been evacuated. I've dropped off my recon photos at a mobile intel station for quick ananysis. You know, just for the flora and fauna? Anyway, there seems to be a lot of vegetation in and around the village; and we've already evacuated the area."

"Rog...oh, damn...my nose is sinking, I'm losing altitude fast! Er...Augh....I'm bailing out!"

Yet, as soon as the pilot of Alpha One-Two, Captain Joe Gulang, had ejected, the nose had stabilized out of the dive, but it was still apparent. It would crash into the sea, or damn near close to Juboku. He wouldn't survive that way, and from it's altitude now, his parachute wouldn't be of much use to him if he had bailed out later. Right now, the plan was to survive.

OOC: Just took control of your airplane for a bit, if you don't mind.

Juboku

Some Soldiers couldn't resist looking upwards as the U-2's soared over, and got the shock of a lifetime. It was coming over so low, it almost hit the tops of the houses. By the time they realised what was happening, A single parachute showed up on the horizon, indicating the pilot had safely ejected. Seconds later, a huge explosion sounded several hundred metres from the town, as the U-2 crashed onto the beach. A minute later, the radio crackled and HQ came in.

This is HQ, I'm afraid we'll have to blow our cover. I repeat: Cover blown. Get moving! Try to recover the pilot and try to get some info out of him, he didn't just crash out of nowhere, HQ Out.

From everywhere around the town, perfectly camouflaged troops stood up, and got moving. Tanks began moving inland, forming a line. Several APC's full of troops drove back to the sea, where they set up a search pattern.

All! We're going to zig-zag around in this area, trying to find the pilot.

The Commander of the troops pointed at a square roughly 4 by 4 kilometres large, which also contained the wreckage of the U-2. The troops then slowly walked through the area, scanning every part of the place.

Sir, we've got a pilot here, I think.

Bring him to the commander. He says he's got a few questions.

After a while, the Captain piloting the aircraft was found, and returned to the Commander of the troops on land, General-Major Jean-Claude Hirtz. He was particularly interested in why the aircraft had crashed, and was eager to find out, the soldiers standing around him heard from his voice.

Mr...

Hirtz quickly looked at Gulang's name tag.

Mr. Gulang. I would first like to thank you for dropping in so sudden and blowing our cover. That put aside, I would like to know how come you just fell out of the sky there. I hope the Vuhifellians build better aircraft than the US-built Starfighters?

Keeping true to the Vuhifellian sense of honor, all information regarding the past events, he would keep from his captors

"Joseph Gulang. Captain, Republican Air Force. Recon flight A-0012, U2 Dragon Lady 'Freedom Flight'." Name, rank, branch, purpose, and the type and name of his aircraft.

"Torture me if you like, I won't tell you anything else." The dear Captain was unaware of the UN initiative in Vuhifell. What he was aware of was that if captured, the Republican government would not negotiate for his life.

Routine Air Patrol V-322
Southern Coastline

Colonel Bartlett was second in command of the Air Force. Vuhifell's top ace, he used to serve in the 9th Air Force, 67th Tactical Fighter Squadron. Now, he was commander of Stier Team, a squadron of the top aces of the Republican and Kazach Air Forces.

He was the first one to know of the disaster of Patrol A-0012. Radio chatter entered his cockpit as he was observing the sky around him in his F-4 Phantom II. It was Alpha One-Three of Recon flight A-0012.

"Heartbreak One, this is Alpha One-Three of recon flight A-0012, do you copy?"

"I copy."

"Recon squadron leader has just been shot down by enemy fire, several Su-7's en route to the crash site. Your flight is the only Republican patrol close enough to make the intercept."

"Roger. But...Ananko only has F-86's..."

"These aren't Ananko's. They're Soviets, real professionals. They'll be enough to test your piloting skills, Bartlett."

"Should be interesting. Alright. Stier Two, stay on my wing! All other aircraft stay low and out of the fight!"

Fellway Hall
Farbanti

...None of them could be more surprised. A bomb had gone off, right during an emergency meeting with the Republican Council. It had been placed in the Office of the Commissioner of Intelligence. The blast had killed him, and a three soldier entourage escorting him.

Jethro Daniels was one of the first to arrive at the seen.

"What happened!"

"We don't know sir, something...something just exploded!" Farbanti Police were having a hard time comprehending how someone snuck into Fellway Hall with a bomb.

Right outside Fellway Hall, stood a gold statue of a soldier. Adamently defending Fellway Hall. Leaning against the statue was Troy Daniels, one of the three Daniels brothers, smoking a cigarette.

"Brother!" cried out Jethro. Troy was wearing a large black trenchcoat. He had the eyes of a killer, a disaster had just occured and his eyes were empty, emotionless.

"I'm fine brother," he said, putting a hand on Jethro's shoulders, "I just escaped from Comberth, Michael and his family are doing fine. But they live so peacefully...why continue the fight against Ananko when his forces greatly outnumber yours...spare the people their lives..."

"Troy...Why are you....nevermind, now is not the time for politics, Troy! Tell! Tell me about Michael, how is he, is he well!?"

"Michael's doing fine, brother, just fine..."

Hirtz was somewhat surprised by Captain Gulang's reaction, and was silent before he answered. He thought it was quite obvious they weren't hostile, but apparently, the pilot didn't share his opinion.

Captain Gulang, we are a liberal nation. We do not resort to toruting to get information from friendly pilots. I apologise for the fact I have not introduced myself. General-Major Jean-Claude Hirtz, Commander of the 3rd Division, Van Luxemburgian Grand Ducal Ground Army. We're here as part of the UN contingent. And seeing you're Republican, we're allies. Now, I'm not that happy with your visit, actually. You just dropped onto my men, and blew our cover. They are now moving forwards, and I'm calling up aircraft to be in our vicinity, because we can expect someone will be looking for you soon enough. But please, you seem to be somewhat familiar with this area, I picked up from your radio convo's. Could you guide us around for a bit?

Meanwhile, several French-built Mirage III jetfighters passed Juboku, afterburners engaged. They had been refueled before heading here, and just arrived, followed by a pair of carrier-borne Étendard IV fighters. They soared over and quickly returned, flying over multiple times.

Plus, You're flying a recon-aircraft, isn't it? You can tell me how the area is like, troop-wise? High Command figured we could easily run over them, but I'm afraid it might not be that simple. We currently got a few hundred very modern western tanks, some APC's, and a few thousand men of infantry, plus support from some top-of-the-range naval equipment and airsupport, including helicopters. We already sank some Communist vessels at Farbanti, so that city is safe, I guess.

The General-Major was then approached by one of his soldiers, handing him a radio.

It's our airsupport, Sir. They insisted on speaking to you.

Hirtz picked up the Radio, and answered the incoming call.

High Command, How can I help?

General-Major, This is Eagle flight. Our radar shows several aircraft coming our way, Both Republican and Communist. Permission to open fire on communist forces, sir?

Negative, Contact the Republicans first, ask if they need some help. Out.

Roger, Sir. Trying now. Attention Republican Aircraft, This is Van Luxemburgian Airforce Eagle Flight. We see you've got some problems ahead, can we be of service?

Radio chatter could be heard throughout the cockpit...Most of it was in Russian.

"This is Heartbreak One to Stier Team! All units evasive action, we're up against Soviet aces!"

In the distance, the outline of the Lambert Mountains could be seen. The southern edge to Whiskey Corridor. It was unknown how many units Ananko and his Soviet allies were amassing in the cave systems and hidden bases in the mountains, A-0012 flight Alpha One-Four was supposed to radio in to confirm.

"Alpha One-Four to Heartbreak One! Do you copy!"

"I copy. Loud and clear."

"Multiple divisions found in the Lambert mountains, I only found scattered units, but according to my photographic ananlysis at a mobile recon station....there's thousands!"

"How many?"

"Enough to overrun Defense Line Alpha! They can push their way to Farbanti in three days tops! Aden and Valais would probably fall in four."

"Christ...air support!?"

"None that I could see. But those Su-7's had to have come from a base in or around Mons."

"Stier Twelve, engaging enemy!" Stier 12, formerly known as Rot 1, was the squadron leader of Rot Squadron, one of the Kazach Air Force's top aces, he piloted a J-35 Saab Draken into battle...

In his direction, tracer fire and missile plooms were flying all over the place, before seeing the wing of one plane, Stier 12's, burst into flame.

"Stier Twelve, bailing out!"

An incoming transmission...from a friend, or a communist set up? Anything's possible...

"This is Colonel Bartlett, leader of the 118th Tactical Fighter Wing of the Republican Air Force. Whoever you guys are, you can start helping us by downing these damn Soviet pilots!"