NationStates Jolt Archive

(OOC: This is the culmination of a few other threads I have been running. I jumped the timeline a bit because they had gone stagnant but I seem to be posting more regularly now and thought I would give it a shot…)

The prince watched out his window. It was 00:00hrs local time and he couldn’t see the bomb falling but he knew it was going down. The release order was set for exactly this time. A bit trite he new but all the same the new government would be born on a new day.

The bomb in question was a strategic nuclear payload. As far as payloads go it was fairly small. The Otariet nuclear arsenal fielded strategic munitions that could bury a nation under fallout for centuries – but that would defeat the purpose of all this.

No this was no foreign attack, nor was it the beginning of an onslaught. As in many theatres on this world the use of nuclear weapons was symbolism – a line that ought never to be crossed; a line that many nations toed despite ideological differences. The prince looked down at the documents on his desk. It was the death report for his father the king, the time of death was stated to be 0348hrs, its cause was cardiac arrest resulting from a preexisting pulmonary condition. It was all there, the medical notes of the attending staff et cetera. There was no worry about the nature of the forgery being discovered. After all everyone of them were sleeper agents – brought into the operation over the course of the last three years. They’d never be called on for another task and the prince would never call on them again. Their ties to the Royal Guard were all but severed.

A small dot on the horizon brought the princes attention back. He was too far away to make it out, and from here it looked like a low hanging star. The prince knew better though, as did the victims of this atrocity. The nuclear fire burned in the distance and the prince’s location was disturbed by the faintest of rumbling.

He turned from the window and left the office. It was a quiet night here. The sounds of government were down to a dull murmur – but that would change. The prince leaned on the doorframe as he watched armed soldiers come into the other offices – rounding up people and generally doing their best to secure the room. They weren’t at this for all of a minute before a gunfight broke out.

The fight was not a match. Despite the troopers wearing the uniforms of one of the noble lords they were in fact deserters and vagrants. When the royal guard assaulted the room they were quickly dispatched but the prince noted from his vantage point that the necessary secretaries and the like were killed in the crossfire

The squad hoofed it over to where the prince was. He noted their purple berets, proudly displayed. Tonight was a night of colour and symbolism. The prince was quickly taken down to the lower levels to his private train – on its own private line. It was the battle tent – the mobile headquarters of government in an emergency. And tonight it was an emergency.

Within three minutes the train was at full speed and flying out of the city – Penson bound. Otares, the capital, sported many members of many noble families and was turning into a mad house. It had been almost ten minutes since the nuke hit and already people were going nuts. It seemed that the local lords were about ready to begin firing on one another with their own arsenals – as soon as they had some inkling about who had nuked whom. As it was the territory that the nuke had decimated straddled four of the families’ fiefs. Conventional armies were of course being called to alertness at this time as well.

This was to be expected. What was not expected – or at least by the nobles – was that the Otariet Armed Forces were enforcing a no fly zone everywhere, even on the nobles. Over the course of the next hour in the name of enforcing the no fly zone the OAF shot down almost eight hundred noble planes – loosing almost two hundred of their own. It seemed however that the OAF had achieved theatre air superiority over the entirety of the massive country. And conveniently the air strike campaign on hostile ground targets had included many of the nobles communications centres. Now it would seem that anyone who cared to talk to Otares would be talking to the crowned prince.


(OOC: More later I just want to see what initial reactions are. Remember the timeline here about an hour has passed. I can give you some leeway if your nation is slower but all the same try not put your reactions further out than 3 hours in character tops. For those of you who might have satellite imagery of my country the launch came from a vessel off the coast which surfaced briefly and then launched. It also linked up with a communications satellite and had radio contact with a nearby trade envoy. Anyplace that wants to play pirate island should make a comment ooc for me. These guys can get by for a bit on their own but they will need a benefactor – don’t worry they are loaded.))

The crowned prince made his way down the train. It sped along the rail line at almost four hundred kilometers an hour. As he walked members of the royal guard spoke quickly around him – each of them raising their voice to get their point across.

“Your majesty initial reports on the local wind patterns and expected fallout are in. It looks like we were lucky – but even still thousands of square kilometers have suffered dangerous levels of radiation. I have maps here showing how fast we need to evacuate people versus how close they were to the hypocenter. Your majesty please if we expect to save their lives…”

“… and there are confirmed reports of conflict in Br’sk. We aren’t sure who started it but the local nobles are calling on their security forces to react. Armor columns are moving into the province from these three bases…”

“… the no fly zone is holding. We expect that we can maintain military operations over the entire country. We have circled recon routes into the normal patrols and begun tracking belligerent movement. Its starting to get messy down there and I don’t know…”

“… Penson is on high alert and in defensive posture. We have also secured Cali. The Capital is a write off though. Troops loyal to you are prepared to begin rolling over some of the neighboring territories. We think we can secure…”

“… Your political allies are on the phone and calling for protection. They are each clamoring for your troops to safeguard them from the other nobles. We need to be careful though because any place we reinforce will see diplomatic backlash from our foes…”

“… and the other nobles have been trying to get through. They are being bogged down with the comms structure loss but we will have to tell them something eventuall…”

“… no foreigners seem to have noticed. It would seem that our time in isolation has paid off – we might be able to pull this off without any intervention…”

“… The Southlands and Burnica seem mostly clear. The forces there have no contact with their chain of command. Some of them are getting antsy because regular check in times and the like have been missed. Moreover the flybys from the no flyzone in the Southland are raising tensions…”

The prince stopped and raised his hand. Every person stopped – a collective gulp was heard. Every monarch in Otares carried a certain amount of respect but this one was different. Was it possible to love a man and fear him at the same time? That seemed as close as possible language could come in describing what it was that these men felt for their monarch. He was kinder than most Otariet monarch but he was more calculating too – more brutal. Everyone knew that when he knocked out the church it was a power grab – and while the sub perpetrator had not been found already some of this advisors had started to wonder about their monarch’s hand in all of this.

They were not left to wonder long though. They were all tasked to trees, never to see the forest because now the prince spoke in a clinical sort of precision. He needed to sound as morose as possible – because it was now public knowledge that his father was dead. He maintained the title of crowned prince but that was all but a formality at this point. Were he to claim the title of King the other nobles would clamor expect certain stipends and dispensation to support him. Now on the brink of civil way he suddenly had a much better case…

“Br’sk, does it look like it will be controlled easily by one side?”
“Not easily sir but if armament keeps up on this pace the Charkov family will come out on top.”
“Then instruct our bombers to engage in a bombing campaign on the Charkov assets in the area. As soon as the situation looks too close to call hold off on the bombing. Brief me at that time.”
“Yessir…” The advisor looked hesitant for a moment but the prince had already moved on.
“You will maintain the no fly for as long as I ask. Patch into missile command and the fleet if need be. Any sites that become a problem you have my permission to shell or cruise missile. The important part is maintaining air superiority.”
“Yes your highness.”
“The state of my defence forces.”
“Mi’lord?”
“You say that we can roll over some of the neighbouring counties with minimal losses?”
“Yes highness.”
“Do it – and occupy the counties. Don’t launch any major offensives but if it looks weak enough do just that – roll over it. Advise me again at that time and we can begin planning our own major offensives.” The advisor salutes and runs off – having his work cut out for him. “And now my allies; anyone of whom aggress to place their forces under the direct control of the OAF will be reinforced with no exceptions. I care not for the political fallout. If they say no then tell them we are prepared to cut them loose. I imagine that should bring them around – even if we are absorbing their security forces.”
“But sire the lords have a right to…”
“Jack shit. Your job is secure right now because I need a well trained advisor right now – but do not think that this time will not pass and you won’t become expendable again.”
“…yessir…”
“Tell the other nobles we are working to stabilize the situation and if they have any immediate concerns to submit them in writing where their crowned prince will give them all the attention that they are due. If they have a problem with that apologize profusely and reference the protocols of government a lot.”
“Wh-what?... highness?” The title was added almost as an after thought she was so taken aback.
“Are you deaf? I said STALL THEM! Now about the foreigners. Make sure that we have a line open we need to be as nice as possible to these people. In the mean time start launching anti-satellite weaponry at any peace of space debris overhead.”
“Yessir – but may I enquire…”
“We have no idea whether or not more nukes might be incoming and I would prefer if they didn’t start targeting the mobilized armies – it would make a mess of things. I want you to be as amiable as possible to the foreigners if they start complaining about us blowing up their crap. Offer to pay for it if you have to. You have two tasks woman keep the airspace clear and stop the foreigners from getting an itchy trigger finger.” The woman saluted and was off. The pile of advisors was dwindling quickly. “Now in regards to the security forces in the Southlands and Burnica, I want you to tell them that their units have been purchased from their respective lords and now report to the OAF. Any officers who give you trouble? Pay them off. Keep a list because we will have to cycle them out later.”
“That might work in the southlands but the Koptevs are notoriously loyal…”
“It will work. Just do it now.” The advisor scampered off – probably thinking that the prince was being arrogant. Unbeknownst to him the Royal Gaurds had arranged for an agent to be in place for this occasion. The order would not raise a single eyebrow in Burnica and the occupation of that country would continue unabated.

The prince was alone in his train car for a moment. He pressed his face to the window and waited – counting the time. Then he saw them. White plumes streaking towards the sky – red embers at their tips. The prince could only see a few from his location in the country but he could picture them. Hundreds of space capable missiles streaked from Otares carrying small nuclear charges. Accuracy became less of an issue when you used such weapons.

The weapons would take a variable course to their destination and release their payload – several hundred small twenty kiloton nuclear weapons. They would light up near space as they incinerated everything and anything that happened to orbit over the larger country of Otares. The effect of this arsenal was to create a black spot over the ocean which encompassed a land mass nearly the size of North America, an intelligence dead zone of sorts. The prince checked his watch again. He figured that there was no way the foreigners didn’t catch that one but damned if he wasn’t hoping they’d choose to ignore it.

It was 0436hrs Otariet Capital time.

0615 Otariet Capital time 0415 Local time

The room was deadly silent. Really the vents hummed slightly but the prince was so engrossed in his reading that there was nothing. All attention was brought to the reports that he was reading – and perhaps having a dozen people in the room tensely holding their breathing added to the silence. While a decibel metre might still catch a reading there was something to be said for the amount of intention handing in the air. Some of the most powerful people in the country straining – as if the silence would reveal to them the thoughts of the monarch.

When the prince coughed he almost seemed to surprise himself. Looking up to his advisors he had a grim look on his face. He went to speak but it took a moment. He tried again and found his voice.
“Anyone who is not a member of the Royal Guard needs to leave.” The rest of the room complied in silence. Their faces betrayed expressions most grim. More and more circumstances were unfolding which might suggest that the prince was slightly more than reactive in all of this. All the same these were his closest advisors. If there were some ties to the prince they swept them under the rug. Whether it was unconscious or whether they hoped to further their ends remained to be seen – regardless the thought went unspoken. This meeting was merely another such circumstance and was dismissed as such.

Now the Prince and three Gaurdsmen remained. They wore civilian clothes and were it not for a small red pin on their left lapel they would not be marked at all. If one knew what they were looking for however they could recognize that these three possessed significant stature in the organization – the centre of the three being its second in command.

The man boasting the rank was Sir Korieza. Starkly pale Korieza stood at an even six feet – slightly shy of the prince himself. An imposing figure to be sure Korieza lacked the hearty look of a peasant – but all the same he looked too hard to be a noble. He seemed to be a man apart from the Otariet demographic.

“Your majesty.” It was Korieza who broke the silence. The interruption to the silence was stark – almost unwelcome. All the same the prince knew that this man was one of the few he could trust right now.
“Korieza – I trust this means the plan was a success?” The prince motioned to the reports. He intentionally left out the man’s title – with Korieza the title was far more an insult than the implied familiarity.
“Yes. As it stands now those houses are without leader ship.”
“And their navies?”
“Pushing east, towards Europe, they hunt for the submarine.”
“Is it possible they will catch it?”
“Possible. But the submariners will not surrender. Their secrets will die with them if need be.” The prince paused as Korieza said that. He hated the idea that these men were condemned to never return to their homeland but it must be asked. Changing the angle at which the topic was looked at he asked tentatively.
“And the fleet that is being sent out?” Korieza waited for the prince to articulate the question. “How much control over it do we have?” Korieza’s response was very matter of fact considering the fact.
“Little to none. The ships are not technically OAF. Their loyalty is to their respective noble houses but as you know we have separated the chain of command. While the OAF can advise the fleet is left to the authority of Admiral Noel Tantsky.
“Tantsky is a higher ranking noblemen himself so his decisions do carry some political weight. And technically considering the number of people we have assassinated tonight he has a decent claim on two of the noble families’ highest position.”
“Hmm, so then we have no real control of him to speak of?”
“No, as I said. Little to none.” The prince had heard him but he wished that the answer was going to change in the moments that had passed.
“How many ships does he have?”
“He pulled away a larger armada than we were expecting. Some of ours went with him-“
“What!?!?” Korieza nods.
“I warned that some of the OAF ships might defect in this – blood is thicker than water.”
“Ugh. I know, I just don’t like the idea that some of the ships that are out there carry the OAF markings – its going to look bad if problems arise.”
“Again-“
“I know I know. How many?” The prince was already trying to compensate for this, numbers churning. Thinking about what countries might be in danger.
“Twenty destroyers, forty frigates, between one hundred and one hundred twenty cruisers, and sixteen battleships.”
“H-he got sixteen battleships an-and more than a hundred cruisers?” The prince could scarcely believe it. His knight had just told him that the majority of the Otariet surface fleet had defected. So much effort was put into making sure that the subs – with their nuclear capabilities – were accounted for. Now it seemed like this was for naught.

0723 Otariet Capital time 1323 local time

The Armada was spread out – culling the ocean for they prey. The Admiral was rabid and his orders showed it. The battleships were coupled into eight main groups – their support ships and the smaller ships clustered about them. While the area might have been target rich the central ships were made nearly impervious to torpedo fire.

The cruisers were put in groups of three and spread over a massive area. Active sonar and radar washed over (and under) the horizon has the ships combed the ocean – moving steadily eastwards, looking for the submarine in question.

No undersea traffic was safe and were this not enough the armada was stopping EVERY ship they came across. The onboard marines sought out computer systems and didn’t leave anyone unmolested. It was imperative that EVERY ship be put under the microscope.

Three cruisers came across one such hapless ship. A foreign merchant ship. Cruising the Atlantic was common enough but that was not enough. Taking a hostile posture and increasing speed the cruisers brought weapons online as they hailed the freighter.

“This is Captain Rosanna Ingmar of the OAF Wellsung. You are hereby ordered to cut your engines and present all hands – make ready for boarding. Prepare to receive my marines or there will be consequences.”

(OOC: If no one wants to get involved with this I can make the freighter incident be a nothing kind of event. But first one who calls it can be the country that claims ownership of the ship.)

bump

1035 Otariet Capital time 1235 Local time

It had been expected that the smaller players would be rolled into their larger allies. Conflict seems to have a way of factionalizing people. So while the crowned prince had been bringing his allies onside the nobles had been doing the same. Even the smaller powers had expected this – after all they’d be defying historical precedent if it had not occurred.

And like many examples of factionalizing this one started to heat up on border regions. Smaller lords who had until this point played more than one side were suddenly being pressed for a decision. And as always in politics not everyone is happy with the outcome – it just so happens that these some ones control armies.

The area in question had always been a crossroads of sorts. So many ancient conflicts had been fought over it that the land area – really no bigger than the country of modern day Germany – had been divvied into countless numbers of fiefs. Adding to the confusion was that not everyone recognized the same divisions – with some lords accepting certain treaties and rejecting others. So depending on who you asked there were somewhere between three and four hundred fiefs in question.

The area was so culturally diverse that it almost self identified – despite the political and economic divisions. Instead of seeing them selves as New Georgians, Primskians, or Sarbians – they identified as a people unto themselves. The closest translation in English would be – People of the Shifting Cities, or Trabs.

The conflict started in Eastern Trab as the Darmahktres family marched their forces in to secure the country. The local lord – not having been consulted – was understandably upset. The local force commander – an undiplomatic bear of a man – responded curtly referencing some obscure treaty from centuries past. When confronted with the news the local lord flew into a rage – whereupon he promptly threw his country’s support behind the Tyurin.

This political shift worried the Gusevs who – due to their own lack of a defensible area – abhorred the idea of the Tyurin family gaining a launching point in the area. As such they deployed into the area with the express purpose of overthrowing the local lord and installing one of their own nobles.

This of course upset the Gahron family – as the local lord had married one of the families young ladies. So – to protect their blood kin – the Gahrons mobilized a mechanical division into the area.

The crowned Prince – eager to claim an area in the dispute – began moving into the South of Trab, prompting the Gusevs to bring more troops into the area. When that happened a shooting war broke out…

SHALRIRORCHIAN CENTRAL COMMAND
Outside Shalcoria, Capital of the United States of Shalrirorchia

"Holy SHIT!"

Everyone's attention was drawn to the center screen, which carried global MILSTARS tracking systems data. MILSTARS was the orbital defense and intelligence satellite network maintained by the Shalrirorchian Defense Force. It provided both the combat system used by Shalrirorchian air, ground, and naval forces as well as the intelligence needed to operate those forces at maximum effectiveness.

A second later, the lime-colored screen flickered and then stabilized as the imaging of an atomic explosion was exposed. All of the staff officers in Command and Control knew what one looked like, in theory. They'd simply never observed one in practice until now. The corner of the screen read, "DEF-MILSTARS 056, OTARES".

The phones started ringing off the hook moments later, and General John Sharana, commander of the facility, turned to the Ops Managers. "Report!" he snapped.

"Confirmed nuclear detonation at the 056 position." shouted one analyst. The general recognized her as Janet Locklear, the new Ops Manager for the center.

"Did we see who fired what?" Sharana asked tightly.

"Negative, sir. Our MILSTARS coverage over that area of the world is a little sparse." replied the analyst, adjusting her glasses before continuing. "There doesn't appear to be....no way. That cannot be correct..." she began. "Sir, judging from the last couple of seconds of flight trajectory, it seems that this might have been fired from within the country. A low-level atomic weapon." she added.

"Terrorist attack?" asked Sharana, stepping down to the Ops level.

"Impossible to say without further intelligence." Locklear replied, having to raise her voice to be heard over the clamor of the suddenly-busy Command and Control center.

Sharana imposed calm upon himself, and indeed this calm was what had helped him to rise to the position of leadership over the S.D.F. which he currently enjoyed. His nickname amongst the general staff was "Iceman" because of his professionalism under pressure. He glanced back up at the screen. "Redeploy the MILSTARS network for maximum coverage over the affected area." Sharana ordered. "Do we have any assets in this region?"

Locklear checked her MILSTARS lace and then reported, "Very little. A frigate, sir, the U.S.S. Salvatore...mission profile reads transport mission to a Shalrirorchian base in Jaonxi. They just happen to be passing through the region." she clarified.

Sharana nodded. "Advise the Salvatore to monitor background radiation, and to be at a higher state of alert...the Otariet forces may be a little tense for obvious reasons. They are to proceed with their mission to Jaonxi."

"Aye sir. Sir, President Aeri is one line one for you." Locklear said, tapping her headset with a finger expressively. Sharana glanced at his watch...ten minutes since the explosion. Shanu Aeri, President of the U.S.S., was known as a highly punctual person. The general turned and began walking up the stairs to the glass double-doors of his office. "Put her on my personal comm. And someone bring me a new cup of coffee, dammit."

OOC: Technically the naval response didn’t happen for more than seven hours after the nuke – did you want to make another post, as you’ve only mentioned ten minutes in character? If not I will make a post about the interaction between the armada and the Salvator. Give me a day after hearing from you again and I will probably have something.

Chevrokian Space Agency
Allen B. Richards Control Center
Black Ridge, Chevrokian Republic

Even late at night there was plenty of activity in the control center. Not as much as there was the previous week, when one of the Whitestar spaceplanes was up doing various research work. Whitestar? Ah yes, that's what they called them now, Timothy Jacobson thought. They originally were the Blackstar, a recon spaceplane for the Republic Air Force, who promptly turned them over to the CSA after five years of use. Word was that they didn't like funneling so much funding into the Blackstar program, and instead switched to satellites for space-based recon work. While that was all well and good, the CSA didn't have nearly the kind of funding the RAF recieved. They would be very lucky to get a Whitestar up each month, and this year they weren't having such luck.

For now, though, Timothy was doing more tedious work. Reading data from orbiting satellites, adjusting flight paths, taking phone calls, so on. In his near-trance, he almost missed the phone ringing next to him.

"Chevrokian Space Agency, Timothy Jacobson speaking."
"Yes, hello, this is Cheryl Palmer at the Chevrokian Weather Observation Service, we've lost the data stream from one of our weather observation sats."
"Lost data?"
"Yes, that's correct. It's sat number WZ-1038, could you check it out for us?"
"Um...sure, give me a moment."

CWOS operated a number of satellites in orbit, observing global weather events and relaying the information to the appropriate agencies. Tim was searching through pages upon pages of various satellite data streams, until he came upon WZ-1038. Or rather, where WZ-1038 should have been.

"Now that's odd..." Tim trailed off.
"What is it?"
"We're not getting any data from it either. It's as if it's not even there."
"Can you do anything about?"
"I don't think so, we can't even find where it is." Tim paused for a moment, thinking about how to proceed. "You CWOS guys record the data from your satellites, yes?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"Do you think you could send us what you've got? It may help us figure out what went wrong."

One of Tim's fellow controllers walked over to see what was up.

"Exciting night there, Tim?"
"Oh, absolutely, Vlad. CWOS lost feed from one of their sats, they want us to figure out why."
"Oh, I just love analyzing weather sat feed."
"At least you get to watch the video feed, all I get to look at is telemetry numbers."
"Hey...that's life, Tim."

Business in the control center went about as usual, the loss of a CWOS sat wasn't exactly the most exciting thing in the world. Or was it?

"Whoa, what the hell was that?" Vlad rather unprofessionally shouted out.
"Vlad, what's going on?"
"Here, let me back up the video feed. This was about two hours before WZ-1038 went off-line."
"I don't see anythi..."
"Hang on a sec, it'll come...wait for it..."
"Vlad?"
"THERE! You see that?"
"Yeah, I see it. What is it?"
"Here, let me bring it up on the big screen."

Vlad typed in several commands and brought the display up on the control room's big main display.

"Now what does it look like?"
"Well, Vlad, that would appear to be a nuke being fired off. Not a big deal, happens all the time."
"Well, suppose whoever fired off that nuke didn't want anybody to know about it, and they thought why not shoot down any sats that may happen to pass by?"
"Vlad, I'd say you're crazy."
"Yeah? Well take a look at this." He moved the feed ahead to just before it cut out. "Now watch for a flash of light."

Sure enough, a bright flash of light filled the monitor, then quickly turned to black as the satellite feed cut out.

"Holy shit," Tim said.
"I know, huh?"
"You know Vlad, something tells me that before we're off work today we're gonna be dealing with alot of brass and men in black suits."

OOC: Technically the naval response didn’t happen for more than seven hours after the nuke – did you want to make another post, as you’ve only mentioned ten minutes in character? If not I will make a post about the interaction between the armada and the Salvator. Give me a day after hearing from you again and I will probably have something.

OOC- I did not mention a naval response in my post. I merely stated that there would probably be unrest in the military, given that an atomic weapon was just used on your soil. :) The order given to the frigate is essentially the equivalent of "Watch your head and don't do anything stupid while in the area, because there will probably be some nervous trigger fingers."

I apologize for any confusion that may have been caused.

OOC Oh no I realize. I am simply curious as to whether or not the frigate is in my eastern waters seven hours from the detonation… lets just say that avoiding ‘incident’ will be difficult at that time.

1055 Otariet Capital time 1255 Local time

It took no more than twenty minutes from the cracks of rifles to escalate to the boom of artillery. None of the belligerents tried particularly hard to forestall the conflict but it was the Gahrons who escalated the conflict into a bloodbath.

The mechanical divisions that they had sent into Bork – central Trab – had been pinned down by Darmahktres infantry who had secured the city, in keeping with their supposed right to it. The Gahron mechanized were taking losses from elevated positions – RPG fire rained from tenement windows. The Darmahktres may have lacked mechanized support but their superior position turned the streets below into canals of liquid fire.

And then a report came in saying that the capital building had been sacked. And so now the Gahron mechanized had lost their objective – but like so many feudal systems an insult to honour was just as important as an affront to security.

Medium range missiles flew from the Gahron territory towards Bork. They broke into clusters and obliterated the entrenched infantry – and most of the city they were entrenched in. The problem with this tactic was that the missiles trajectory took them over Southern Trab – and the princes forces. And so the technologically lacking Darmahktres family saw only north bound missiles raining on their position. The obvious response – to the Darmahktres at least – was to declare open season on southern Trab positions with long range artillery.

The OAF force commander in the area was General Lord Relk Atonv. Lord Atonv was along serving member of the OAF and had time and time again shown his loyalty to the institution before the feudal structure. He oft bemoaned local lords pulling troops away from OAF operations and whole heartedly supported the prince’s decision to roll local security into the OAF. After all now was the time for war – and not backstabbing politics.

Lord Atonv was looking over a map with his Imperators when the shells started coming down. The first bomb was kilometers off his position, all the same his head snapped up to look to the horizon. Sure enough white streaks of incendiary were working slowly through the blue sky from a position over the horizon.

The shells came down in a haphazard pattern kilometers wide – a consequence of firing over the horizon without telemetry. The shells were air bursting eighty feet in the air – blowing into spheres of falling flame and oxidizer. The tactic was an old Otariet tactic. You used shells when you had a target – incendiaries turned cities into impassible blocs of flame and rubble. While his armored and bunkered units might survive the fire he would need to contend with a new operational hazard. Oh merciful lord… the cities haven’t been evacuated… Lord Atonv realized – his face aghast, broadcasting his thoughts to his Imperators who promptly swung into action.

The Imperators took care of the logistics – they were all on their personal radios arranging for civilian extraction from the hot zone. The General however was connecting himself to air ops.
“Watchtower Trab go ahead silver bear.” The operator cackled over the radio – confirming the General’s data key – an inaudible data packet sent over Otariet communications for security sake.
“We are taking fire from” The General glances at his compass and the streaks on the horizon “3-4-5 stop, 0 stop, 1-5 stop, 3-2 stop. I want some birds in the air – report to me ASAP.”
“Roger that Silver Bear.”

If we are going to fight this war like all of our others ones we are never going to be able to suffer all the casualties… we might have to call in foreign humanitarians after all.

OOC Oh no I realize. I am simply curious as to whether or not the frigate is in my eastern waters seven hours from the detonation… lets just say that avoiding ‘incident’ will be difficult at that time.

The Salvatore would probably be somewhere in that general vicinity, yes, but it is not heading towards Otares. It is enroute to Jaonxi, where the U.S.S. is involved in a nasty little fight with terrorist elements.