NationStates Jolt Archive

A quiet, untainted field. It was quite a nice field. The grass stood waist high, and was filled with many species of flowers and animals. The planet Oberon was a nice place. The animals peacefully grazed upon the grass, and natural predators stalked them like usual. It seemed like quite the utopia.

However, it wasn't the predators that had startled the peaceful herbivores. It was a vibration in the ground, and a deep rumbling sound in the distance. The herbivores scrambled and fled in opposite directions, and the predators did the same almost at the same time. Several of the herbivores made high-pitched screeching sounds, and this alerted many of the other herds nearby. They too fled, and soon, the once peaceful field was soon deserted, and wind swept the grass in waves similar to that of an ocean.

A hill could be seen in the background, and at the top of it, the remains of a once beautiful cottage. It had since been deserted some time ago. When is anybody's guess. It was still furnished, with dirty dishes and rotting food within. Unmade beds, open doors, open windows. It was as if the occupants had fled from it. That no longer mattered now. Soon, the rumbling began shaking the house, and plates, fine china, and other household accessories began shaking, falling, and shattering around the house.

Suddenly, a large tank burst through the house at nearly top speed, and as the scene panned out, other tanks could be seen. Hundreds of them, in fact. They crushed through the grass at an average speed of one hundred fifty kilometers per hour, tearing grass and dirt up as they went, leaving trails in the ground where they had once been. The lead tank stopped upon the hill, and soon, the tanks around him stopped as well. Almost like a cue, the entire brigade stopped.

Some time passed, and the lead tank's hatch popped open, releasing a human from within. The tank commander brought out what looked like a simple pair of binoculars, and he brought them to his eyes, scouting ahead of his forces. In his sights, he could see the heavily fortified rebel city of Karkana. Each building within the city was bristling with troops and gun emplacements, and an extensive trenchline could be seen just outside the city. The commander smirked, and then ducked down into the tank, sealing the hatch behind him.

He sat back down in his gunner seat, and pulled a wired walkey-talkey off of a hitch on the wall on his left. He pressed the side button down and brought the device to his mouth.

"Alright boys, fan out. We're about twenty kilometers from the target," he said. "We're gonna shell the city as we move in to make things easier on the APCs movin' in behind us. If we can't push through the initial defensive line, we'll back out and let the heavier guns shells the damn place to the foundations of each building. May the Gods grant us victory." He then promptly set the walkey talkey back on the hitch, and then tapped twice with his foot. The driver quickly got the tank moving again, and soon the entire brigade was moving.

As the lead tank began cresting the next hill, the main cannon rang out, lobbing a massive twenty five centimeter HEAT round into the air towards the city. The other tanks around it responded with their own chorus of shots.

_________________________________________


"Damnit, how long do we have to keep sitting here?" A grunt Eldar guardian sat behind a Shuriken cannon emplacement that had been dug into the trenchline. A grenade net was sitting in front of it as well for obvious reasons.

"Because, that's our job, dumbass," replied a Kitsune anthro, who was sitting behind the controls to another dug out position, but with a heavy rotory autocannon set up in his spot.

"That's not what I meant," replied the Eldar. "I mean, why are we sitting here? There hasn't been any kind of attack on this planet at all! It doesn't even seem like the bloody Zekes even realize we're here."

"Well, ask yourself this," replied the Kitsune. "If command ordered us to sit here and guard the city, wouldn't they have a good reason for it?"

The Eldar opened his mouth to retort, but a sudden realization had occurred to him. He had this look of, 'Oh shit, we're gonna die, aren't we?' The Kitsune nodded and grinned in sarcasm.

"Yeah,' said the oversized mammal. "Now you get it."

"Well, now it's kinda obvious, jackass!" The Eldar was in a frantic state at this time.

"Oh, calm do-" The Kitsune stopped mid-sentence and his ears perked. "Hey, do you hear that whistling?"

The Eldar concentrated, and then his face changed to another dawn of realization. "Everyone! Hit the de-!" BA-BOOM! The section of trench where the two had been sitting suddenly exploded, and thus both men would never feel anything again.

________________________________________



The entire trenchline was in a state of chaos as the men tried to react to the quickly approaching Zeon tanks. Several of the anti-tank emplacements had been totally annihalated, and a body count had already been tallied to nearly five hundred men. The artillery within the city tried to counteract the approaching tanks, but their shots were way off by several kilometers, and the tanks did not even feel the effects of the barrage.

The lead tanks finally crested the final hills, and upon cresting the hills, the opened up on the defensive fortifications, their main cannons and secondary aligned particle projection cannons tearing huge gouges in the rebel defenses. The rebel retaliation was vastly uncoordinated, as they had been caught with their pants down, practically. Sporadic spurts of gunfire grazed the hills as the Zeon A-8 Tiger tanks rolled down onto the forward trenchline. They easily crushed through the trenchs, squishing injured and hiding troops without a care as they blasted the second and third lines.

These lines, however, were much more coordinated, and they retaliated with fierce barrages of anti-tank fire. Much of it was deflected by the automated ODB systems that protected the tanks, but some were disabled or flat out destroyed. Soon, the secondary pintle mounted four point five centimeter machine cannons kicked it, cutting swaths of rebel infantry down in seconds.

Soon, the tanks had cut through the second and third lines. They'd lost a good number, but they had not lost their momentum. As they reached the city, several hundred APCs that had held back began their own assault into the enemy city, and they deployed their forward troops with their pod launchers. The pod launchers sent most of the troops high into the air, allowing the troops to guide themselves deep into the city. Some even crash-landed into buildings and began initiating close quarters combat with enemy troops, cutting them down easily in their new Powered Armour (http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y222/Feronen/Mobile%20Suits/rgm-79g.jpg). The built-in beam sabers in their right hands and their attached shields on their left arms made it much easier to defend in close quarters combat, and the beam sabers cut clean through enemy troops just as a lightsaber could.

In the end, the rebel forces collapsed to the overwhelming numbers of the Zeon forces, and the day ended in a bloody slaughter of all those who resided within the city. Not one person was kept as a prisoner.

__________________________________

Two Weeks Later

A small fleet of twenty SDFs arrived within Boozian territory. They bore the banners of their new Gods, and the ships had archaic and heretical text and designs upon the hulls in what seemed to be blood. Within the flagship, the Hammer of Khorne, a dark essence dwelled within.

"Oh, but sister!"

"I said no, Kiera! And that's final!"

"Awwww!"

The young, childlike form of Kiera Selinorasi, the youngest of the entire Selinorasi family, had quite the pout going on. The girl, who looked merely twelve years old, was actually almost four hundred, and she looked like she hadn't aged a day since. Her body was adorned in skimpy clothing, revealing most of her nether regions to the view of the general public, and it could be seen that she hadn't even quite fully developed physically. Her hair was a deep red, and her eyes were pure emerald green.

"Kiera, don't pout like that! You know it only angers me to wanting to kill you!"

Kiera's older sister, Roechell, stared down at her younger sibling, practically glaring at her. Roechell looked to be about sixteen, and she was adorned in modest black robes that covered her entire body. She glowed with an aura of magic about her, and it caused her hair to shift between deep-space black and pergatory white. Her eyes also shifted between Purple, blue, and red, and her aura was completely red. Both sisters were, in their own way, strikingly beautiful. Almost unnaturally so.

"But why can't I bring my pet, sister?!"

"Because your pet is an abomination, even to the Gods!"

"No it's not! Lord Slaanesh said my pet was perfectly reasonable to tame!" Kiera had now resorted to whining at a high pitch, and Roechell twitched at the sound.

"Alright, alright! You can bring your pet! Just shut up, for the love of Tzeentch!"

"Yeeaaaay! Did you hear that, m'dear! You get to come with me to visit your family!" Kiera leaned over and began to pet the quivering form near her legs. It was obviously a woman, and she was completely naked. She was ball-gagged, barely breathing through the holes, and the nipples of her breasts were pierced by six-penny nails and bleeding. She had welt marks and several scars where lacerations had been made in her flesh. When she looked up, her eyes showed fear, and that was when you knew.

It was Justiina, the former council member and representative of Nova Boozia. She was weeping, and this made Kiera smile widely.

"Good girl," she said, before promptly grabbing onto the leash that dangled from Justiina's neck and yanking her to her knees. Justiina winced and whined, crying slightly at the same time.

Roechell twitched in disgust at her younger sister's perverse ways, and then promptly walked towards the mutated form of the communications officer. "Patch me through to the Boozians."

The mutant gurgled a response, and pressed a few buttons in rapid succession with multiple limbs. Finally, an audio only transmission was open to the Boozians.

To the Boozian command. This is Roechell Selinorasi, daughter of the late Selinorasi and sister to our leader, Fironen Selinorasi. We wish to come to the surface and discuss recent events that have occurred.

"It has begun. They are here. And I'm no diplomat, admiral, but it doesn't look like a greeting to old friends."

"Just one of those things would look like it was here to start a war. Be glad they're just blinking lights on the screen, Stan. You don't want a look at the insides."

"Your a remarkably perceptive man, herr Gerspel."

Stanislaw Sibierskie was still young enough to spin whenever someone turned up in the command center unexpectantly. But Reichs-Admiral could put a face to the voice behind him. An old friend's face. But not, by comparison to the graying Gerspel, such an old friend.

"Good to see you, Felfner. You were saying?"

"I was saying youre last comment was spot on. They're here to start a war. Consider yourself under a state of "We are totally not mobilising as fast as possible.""

"They're talking?"

"They're talking. But not for long, by the look of that squadron. They mean business."



"These people mean business. You don't pack that sort of firepower just to say hello."

Chancellor Morlok sank into his seat. If Gerspel was old, Morlok was positively ancient. He was a living legend. Nobody could remember before Morlok. Morlok assuming power was the official end of Boozian history.

"They want to talk. Let them talk. We must not act rashly, ladies and gentleman."

The ladies and gentlemen of the cabinet offered their assent. They were stauch Morlokists all: Boozia über Alles!

"A suggestion. We should talk before parliament. They're all suckers to a passionate speech."

"Not just passionate speeches, Mr Minister. An hour in a room with some people can make anyone start itching for a declaration of war."


Your request for an audience is granted. Vessels of our navy will guide you down if you would be so good as to have your delegation come in aboard a vessel not more than 300 meters in any dimension. Parliament is assembling and the vast majority of members will be ready to recieve you in an hour. The rest will hear you remotely.

Roechell smirked at the response, and then grinned mischievously as she had the comms mutant open up another transmission.

That is a perfectly reasonable request. We will arrive shortly.

With the transmission over, Roechell turned and began to make her way out of the bridge. Her sister was quick to follow her, practically dragging poor Justiina with her, who was feebly trying to run with her while on all fours. She looked like a naked, abused chimpanzee as she had now resorted to running like an ape.

Soon, they were below in the fighter bay, and before them was an old relic. A Zanzibar II-class known as the Lili Marleen, once crewed and captained by the infamous Cima Garahau. The ship's length cut the letter close, reaching a size of nearly two hundred ninety meters in length. It was also brimming with weapons, which were kept out to show a force of strength, and show that the Sisters mean business.

"Now sister," began Roechell, "mind your manners. We don't want to upset our hosts, alright?"

"Aww, that takes all the fun out of it," whined Kiera. She smacked her pet with her keepsake whip, leaving a red mark across the back of her neck. Poor Justiina winced and doubled over, her naked rump exposed in the air. What happened next between master and slave is better left unspoken, but it made Roechell twitch the whole time as they went down to the planet's surface.

Upon the landing of the Lili Marleen, the trio debarked and descended via an elevator from the ship. Roechell was the first to set foot upon the designated landing pad, and she was quickly followed by Kiera and Justiina. By now, Justiina had been allowed to stand on her feet and walk, but she was practically being dragged along. They soon stopped some few dozen feet away from the ship, and waited for their 'greeting card.'

Kapitan Ponjatowskie was an Einsamlander. A Boozo-Pole, as you could tell from his name and rank (Kapitan, among Germano-Boozians, was an exclusively naval term). And in many ways he fit the stereotype, because it was the kind of stereotype that, no matter what the arrogant mainlanders thought, the people of the little island (well... little continent) in the middle of Boozia's wind-swept ocean were proud of.

He was hot-blooded, conservative, a passionate defender of what he knew, with utter conviction, was right. There was a reason a disproportionate number of Einsamlanders were to be found in the Boozian armed forces, in their exclusive officers clubs and their famous Rogatiwkas

Nothing could have prepared for him what he saw as he strode out onto the landing pad. His I-have-every-right-in-the-world-to-be-trampling-across-your-property walk faltered. His high-held head dropped in disbelief and he barely remembered to swallow his rising sick. Then he regained his composure. Such of it as remained. He stood to his full height again, hand on sword.

"My country will not tolerate such treatment of any person, no-matter their nationality or their guilt. Regardless of your laws, you will not exhibit such a horrifically abused individual in a house of democracy. Now come this way."

The sisters were lucky (or, from their point of view, perhaps, unlucky) that the Kapitan was not aware of the quivering woman's identity and Boozian citizenship.

When the government of Prussane heard that the Boozians were invading Prussane was ready to help Boozians they sent 500 troops ready to help and attack.With the troops the Emperor of Prussane sent a letter it read," Prussane citizens heard of the war and ran into the sign-up for the army booths with an armed force of about 600,000 ready to defend there homeland.Im sending 60,000 troops, 800 tanks, and 1,000 vessals.Command them wisely."

OOC: Erm... Prussane... do you have any reason whatsoever to be here? I know it's not closed, but that's because I've got some allies who will (hopefully) come and help me out. Also, even if you do have a reason, nothing is happening yet. On paper, me and Copen are still allies.

So for now me and Copen are going to carry right on and discount your post. So you know.

Kiera smirked as she saw that she was getting the desired results in bringing her pet. She lifted up on the leash and held her pet up, displaying her and petting her affectionately at the same time. Justiina winced in pain, but moaned in some perverse pleasure at her treatment. Kiera then looked up at the Kapitan.

"What," she said coyly, "never seen a dominatrix and her pet before?" She smirked and giggled lightly before Roechell raised a hand and silenced her younger sister. Justiina, however, continued to moan quietly.

"You must forgive my sister," she said. "She has a tendancy to bring her hobbies with her wherever she goes." She was smiling, mildly, as she, too, had noticed the falter in the Kapitan's constitution and resolve at the sight of Justiina. She was, however, surprised that the Kapitan hadn't recognized the face of Justiina. She was, after all, the former Boozian representative on the old War Council.

"My name is Roechell Selinorasi," she continued. "That is my sister Kiera, and I am sure you need no introduction for the third woman." She was waiting for the reaction.

Realisation hit like a thunderbolt.

"Dear God in heaven..."

Einsamlanders also tended to be more religious than the average Boozian, who had, on a cultural level, gone off it after centuries of Imperial Cult exploitation and the First Great War against the demonics.

Unsurprisingly enough, this only meant Ponjatowskie found the whole scene more repulsive than he might have.

"That is a Boozian citizen you have their and you will turn her over to our custody, now!"

He drew his sword half the way, then let it drop back.

"We are not barbarians. Hopefully, despite appearances, you aren't either."


Whether or not the sisters knew it, the whole scene was being watched. And someone, specifically Polkovnik Schoppin, chief of the security force thrown together for the occasion, had decided things were getting slightly out of hand.

"Ponja, you... Henriek, torch the ship at the first sign of trouble."

"Ja, Pulkownik."

"Lech, get your platoon ready. This is the bit where they decide whether we're bluffing."

Both Kiera and Roechell psychically smiled at one another as they watched the over-reaction of the Kapitan. At that very moment, Roechell had been contacting the fleet in orbit over the planet using a very complex psychic language she had developed. The fleet had been preparing for their inevitable invasion, but it was being done in secret, and the only activities that were going on were within each ship. No weapons systems were being powered, and now ships were being moved. However, the crew onboard each ship was prepared to fire the main guns as a deterant volley, and hopefully be used as a means of bargaining with the Boozian parliament.

Kiera opened her mouth to protest releasing her pet, but Roechell quickly turned her head to the side, addressing her sibling.

"Release her," she said. "Now."

Kiera pouted at the order, but she slowly took the leash off and removed the ball-gag before using her right leg to shove Justiina over to the Kapitan. Justiina fell to the floor, babbling incoherently and crying rather audibly at the feet of her savior. She clutched onto his left leg, pulling herself close to him as a means of protecting herself from her former master, quite literally hiding behind him.

Roechell then turned her head back and addressed the Kapitan once more. "See, we are reasonable," she stated calmly and suavely. "Now, let's go to your Congress and talk business, shall we?"

Ponja was momentarily shocked. He had been preparing for a confrontation. A decisive end. Now suddenly he was straight out of preparing to use his training and straight into having a bleeding, naked women clutching at his ankles. He fell back on basics.

"Medic!"

Almost instantly, one emerged. Anyone who had known had known what was going on below the pad would have seen Lech grasping the rifle of one of his trigger-happy men.

"Get this woman somewhere safe and stable. I have business. This way."

He turned and began to regain his trampling-on-your-property walk as he strode towards the main gate.

Kiera and Roechell stiffled giggles, and quickly trotted after the Kapitan. Kiera quickly got up behind him, and before anyone could realize it, she had shoved a foot-long dagger up into the pompous asshole's heart from behind. Roechell, knowing full well never to take a calm-looking situation seriously, had already given the word to the fleet.

Within seconds, the pre-primed main cannons of the SDF fleet in orbit opened up on key Boozian installations, both in orbit and planetside. The first target was the Boozian Congressional Hall, and all the others were either civilian housing districts or military weapons platforms. What's more, the 178cm railcannons on each ship, four per ship, began firing on the Boozian fleet supporting the planet, and their beam cannons, eight batteries of six per ship, soon joined in concert, targetting the lighter cruisers, corvettes, and frigates.

Within seconds of the attack's beginning, fighter craft was practically ejaculated from the ship in the form of Valkyrie variable fighters, Gattle fighter-bombers, and old Excalibur IIs and IIIs. They quickly engaged the Boozian fleet within the minute, the Gattles releasing their massive anti-ship hydrogen missiles, each missile easily the size of a medium ballistic missile, while the other fighters made sure to engage the Boozian small craft to keep them off the fighter bombers.

As a final insult, small, individual drop pods were released like tiny flakes of skin off the flesh of a human being, and they boosted directly for the planet, straight through the Boozian fleets and defenses, each pod actually maneuvering as easily as a light interceptor fighter to prevent them from being easy targets.

Back planetside, Roechell raised her hand up into the air, and the underside of the Lili Marleen opened forth, spewing out five hundred troops in the same powered armour used on Oberon. Their shields were up and they were also brandishing their 10mm machineguns. Almost immediately upon their emmergence, they opened fire. It didn't matter if their targets were civilian or military. Everything was fair game to them. Kiera and Roechell quickly retreated behind their men, and they were soon shielded by them. The ship itself, however, wasted no time in joining in the firefighter. Its point defense weaponry targeted every Boozian in sight, and the topside main cannon targetted a nearby civilian building and opened fire on it with twin 20cm cannons.

It was like Hell itself had been unleashed upon the Boozians.

"Henriek, now!"

"Already done, sir," wheazed the young officer, yanking at the scrap of shrapnel rammed through his throat.

"What the... Henriek! Shit, everyone deploy everything!"


The pad on which the Lili Marleen was parked exploded. Fortunately for Lech, and unfortunately for the crew, the whole blast was directed upwards.

"Everybody go!"

Lech and his men, at the forefront of a whole battalion emerging from the hatches, swarmed up various secure staircases around the pad and opened fire from behind the heavy barricades slamming down around them.

The bridge over to the Congressional Assembly where Ponja, Justiina, and an unfortunate medic by the name of Klemens Polanskie had met their fate was also wired to blow, not that there was much point.

The Boozian defence system had been on full alert to cover priority targets. No-body had really considered a lot of tedious legislators a priority target.


"Planetary shields and defence up, we are engaging!"

Felfner, Gerspel, Menkel, Dernels and all the rest had been positively itching for something like this to happen. Okay, maybe not quite like this. But now the problem was one they could solve, by calculated application of extreme violence.

It would be wrong to say that the small-craft were scrambled, because most of the pilots had already been ready to go. Torpedoes were already in their chambers. The enemy had meant business. So did the Boozians.

The SDFs, being engaged in an orbital bombardment, were in a rather poor position for a fleet engagement. The three-dimensional nature of space warfare had been compromised: they were up against a wall, and while the initial barrage had hurt, it was still an armed wall.

It was also a rotating wall. Slowly but surely, new planetary defence assets were coming into play. The SDFs were surrounded, as new targets would pop up on the surface quite literally all day, while Gerspel's fleet uniformly spun inwards in a dome formation.

And if the enemy were ejaculating small-craft, then it was vulgar to ask what the Boozians were doing with their torpedoes.

The initial barrage had hurt the fleet, too, but the enemy were outnumbers and given the widely spread fire only the smaller classes of ships looked to be gone for good. The big ones had lost shields and been battered, but they were still in play.

The Torpedoes were the red carpet. Now the king was coming.

Engines flickered into life as the Boozian Home Fleet closed in on its pray, swarmed by clouds of fighter craft, guns poping from their ports. Their was work to be done.


"Message in from command. Landings from Määlmo all the way to the flood country. Bridge to the fringes of the desert. They're thinly spread, though, and we're taking down a few as they come in. Not many."

"Get to the orders."

"Sorry. Anyway... full mobilise, proceed to the flood country and go out of your way to eliminate the enemy. Stay concentrated. Battalions within supporting distance. Companies within ten minutes drive. Platoons within sight. But keep away from other divisions and keep moving."

"Right. Alert the men. We're rolling."

The blast broke through the hardened shell of the Lili Marleen with the same ease as a hot knife though warm butter, quite literally incinerating the most of the ship and sending the rest of it flying through the air and around the starport. Most of the troops who had debarked from the ship had been thrown into the air, some of them having had entire parts of their bodies clean off. Roechell and Kiera were amongst those who were thrown, but while they were in mid-air, their own personal powered armour took over, literally folding onto their bodies as if it had been there the whole time. Kiera (http://www.mahq.net/mecha/gundam/0083/rx-78gp01-fb.jpg)'s armour initiated its own jet pack, catching her and flipping her into an upright position in the air, where she hovered. Roechell (http://www.mahq.net/mecha/gundam/0083/rx-78gp03s.jpg)'s did similar, but instead boosted her on, doing a loop to come side to side with her sister.

"Well," said Kiera. "There goes the neighborhood."

"It's not like it matters," replied her sister. "We're here to force the Boozian leadership to stand down, and that's what we're going to do." She then mentally brought up a communications HUD, addressing the planetside commanders who had managed to survive.

"Status report," she ordered.

"This is Alpha, we're attempting to regroup, but our force is spread out in a wide area. The landing didn't go well for our regiment, and we lost a good twenty percent of our battle strength while we were dropping through the enemy fleet."

"Have your men regroup at your position and attempt to take any nearby shield generator stations that could be around," ordered Roechell.

"Yes, ma'am!" The comm closed out, and now it was Beta's turn.

"This is Beta! We are under heavy duress by enemy battalion movements! Their light arms don't do much, but their tanks are tearing us to pieces! We need reinforcements!"

"I'm redirecting Ceta to your position," she replied. "Ceta, did you get that order?"

"Yes, ma'am," replied Ceta commander. "We're en route to Beta commander's position."

"Good," she said. "Delta, what's your status?"

"Heavy fighting in the urban areas," he replied. "We're regrouping and holding two klicks from the Downtown area of the Boozian capital."

"Excellent," said Roechell. "Hold there until I give the word to advance."

"Roger that," replied Delta commander.

"Echo, how's it going on your end?"

"We're alright, for now," replied Echo. "We're having some problems with the local populace and the police forces, but their weapons seem to have no effect, thus far. We'll continue to move in towards the-" The communications suddenly cut out.

"Echo, say again," ordered Roechell. "Damnit. Echo two, can you confirm Echo commander's status."

"Echo commander was taken out by an enemy mortar barrage, ma'am," came the reply."

"Damn shame," she said. "Consider yourself ranked, soldier. Take your men and move to the space port. Recover what's left of the Lili group and hold the space port with your lives. That's the only way we're going to get armour into the city easily."

"Understood, ma'am," replied the new Echo commander.

Roechell closed the communications HUD down, having conversed with all commanders from Alpha to Lambda, and then activated her tactical battle HUD. "Kiera, let's go pay a visit to the Boozian leader."

"But of course, darling sister of mine!" Kiera activated her HUD as well, and the two sisters activated their thrusters once more, plunging into the streets of Boozian capital. The hunt was on.

__________________________________________

In orbit over the planet, the outnumbered Zeon fleet fought valiantly as they quickly redirected their main cannons on the enemy fleet instead of the planet. Pin-point Barrier systems worked smoothly across each ship, deflecting and absorbing only the most fatal weapons fire brought down upon them as they began their charge straight into the enemy home fleet. Super dimension fortresses excelled in three things: one was their sheer power when it came to orbital bombardments, two was their ability to land on planets and act as field bases during invasions and occupations, and three was their ability to broadside with tremendous combined firepower of rail cannons, beam cannon batteries, missile batteries, and Destroids hidden in the Destroid bunkers on the exterior of the ships.

The twenty ships were charging straight towards the enemy fleet for the third reason. It wasn't like the Boozians knew about this specific tactic, as they had never even interacted with the Copen military in the past. Slowly, but surely, they were coming to their desired targets, and Destroids of all types had been stationed in the bunkers, prepared to do what they do best. In the meantime, the beam cannon batteries and the railcannons, combined with the awesome power of the main Reflex cannons, did their best to try and hammer the Boozian fleets into oblivion.

The Zeon fighters, however, had now turned to engaging the Boozian fighters aroung the heavy Boozian capital ships, trying to dwindle their numbers down enough to prevent the SDF's from having further problems.

The battlefield was about the size of South America. It stretched from the narrow land bridge that connected the ring-shaped Boozian cuper-continent to... itself to the fringes of the Great Desert. In most areas, the Zeon troops were scattered thin: before the armoured might of the concentrated, mechanised Boozian formations, they were really too scattered and few too make a meaningful resistance, although undoubtably some would manage to concentrate, make it to a defensible position, and cause trouble.

But in general, the only truly vicious fighting was in the Greater Steubenstadt area, and it was here that the vast majority of Boozian troops were headed. A few were forming hasty corps to hold any Zeon pockets tightly closed, a few areas required deicated sweeper units, not being on anyone elses route. All the rest, armour, infantry, airborne and marines, troops from Einsamland and the Flood Country, and from the other planets: Furnace and Harvest, all were headed for the capital.

The strategy of those forces massed there already was quite simple: if the enemy couldn't gain a foothold, they would be swept aside. If they couldn't concentrate, they couldn't gain a foothold.

If they were dead, they couldn't concentrate. It was simple: hold at all costs. Bleed them white. Bleed them empty. Had their commanders been familiar with Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, a very Boozian character of ever one existed, they might have used one of his most memorable phrases:

"I do not order you to attack, I order you to die."


In space, however, the Boozians had the upper hand, but the challenge was bringing it to bear against an enemy determined to engage only one of their squadrons. Here again time would be bought in blood if necessary: the engaged area, with re-enforcement from its neighbours, charged straight in, in a great stabbing formation, while all around ships went to all ahead full. If the plan worked, the full weight of the home fleet would be brought to bear in a concetrated area against surrounded and outnumbered enemy vessels.

Roechell and Kiera avoided most of the fighting, taking only a few brief moments to casually slaughter civilians in their path. When they encountered them, they usually only caught them in weakly defended packs of eight individuals, and the slaughter left most civilians hacked, cleaved, and maimed into many pieces and left for dead.

Soon enough, they arrived at the government building, which had been far isolated away from the fighting, and the two sisters casually walked towards the entrance of the building, saying not a word to one another. They didn't need to. They could 'hear' each others thoughts as they walked up to the entrance. What awaited these two armour-clad daemonesses behind those doors, would soon be found out, as Kiera unholstered her beam saber and sliced the door to pieces, allowing her and her older sister to walk into the building into the first room...

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The fighting in the central city had grown more intense as Echo and Lambda commanders had finally met each other with their own hastily assembled men. There were a total of one hundred fifty of them, one third of that number armed with 15cm HEAT rocket launchers that came in clips of six, with each man carrying three clips total, and 13.5mm sidearm pistols. They other two thirds carried the basic 10mm machinegun. They had managed to holed themselves into the starport, and had barricaded the place with demolished vehicles, large chunks of debris, and whatever else they could find to prevent enemy armour from actually breaking into the major open areas that provided them enough room, and several of the men placed anti-tank "Sprinkler" smartmines in these open areas just five meters behind the barricades.

Now they waited for the incoming assault.

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Delta commander, who had holed and barricaded his team of thirty two men within the confines of a skyscraper on the fifth and sixth floors, was also prepared to defend his position until otherwise noted. His thirty two men only had eight men with anti-tank weapons, and the others were armed with the generic machinegun handed out to them. They were low on ammo, and soon they'd have to prepare for the inevitable hand-to-hand melee.

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In space, the fleet commander ushered his fleet forward into the single squadron of enemy capital ships, eventually achieving the broadside action that he had wanted although losing four ships in the process to concentrated fire. Each gun and Destroid pointing to port or starboard that had a target in sight opened fire, unleashing a hellish mixture of weapons, consisting of micro-missiles, anti-ship missiles, anti-fighter guns, heavy artillery guns, and the railcannons just for a start. The amount of weapons being fired put out so many different projectile types, it was difficult to pick them all out as they clustered together and flew at the sides of the enemy squadron they had engaged.

Now came the big suprise.

Since the Boozians had sacked on putting up any sort of jamming devices in place, they'd brought their own demise to hand. The fleet commander barked at his comms officer, and a series of codes streamed forth on a wideband frequency, addressing only those who could understand the codes. This was the cue for the orchestra to begin playing and join these soloists.

It took a few minutes, but soon more SDFs began arriving via tesserection above the Boozian homeworld in groups of ten to twenty each time. Every group arrived in five second intervals, dispersing immediately to engage the enemy fleet formations with their backs turned to them. Thus far, another two hundred ships had arrived from out of system, and this wasn't even the tip of the iceberg yet.

((My apologies for lacking on post quality. I'm fracking exhausted right now, and my mind isn't quite up to par on RPing status at the moment.))

OOC: Okay, we should probably get on MSN soon. I think we've missed each other a little. I was under the impression that the forces in the capital numbered in the thousands, because the Boozians certainly do. If I outnumber you, my guys will hardly be going all Gallipoli.

In space, I take it that this is the start of your " open-hour-or-two" we agreed to. The outflanking is going to have an effect, certainly, but remember that you're up against a lot. The twenty shouldn't last long, unless those re-enforcements are rather heavy. Boozia has four systems. One is secret. One is lightly defended. Of the other two, this one is given priority. You are dealing with literally half my fleet.

((This weekend would be a good idea to reconvene. Until then, let's hold off on replies and such.))

OOC: What the hell. Time for a post, or bang goes the thread. I'm just assuming the Boozians had inadequate intel due to the confusion and are getting a nice surprise, that for similar reasons the cabinet hasn't scarpered anywhere secure, and that we can come back and fluid the space battle later.

IC: Gefreiter Schweibeller flattened himself against the wall of what had at one point been a coffee bar and gulped great glorious mouthfuls of air while he had the chance. His company hadn't encountered any enemy presence yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time.

You'd have to be stupid to hide in a tall building during an urban battle, but the Boozian artillery had cut any that were confirmed clear of civilians, and a couple that weren't, down to size anyway... just in case. The rubble of a shipping firm lay strewn across the street Schweibeller's platoon was traversing, providing cover but slowing movement to a crawl, or an occasional scuttle in flat patches.

"Keep together! I wan't everyone in sight of squadies and squads within a shout!"

Overcoming the human instinct to stay low and fend for himself, Schweibeller obeyed his COs orders, kneeling and making a dash for a mess of twisted girder.

"Okay, people, this is it. Enemy sighted by recon, not more than 300 meters. Engage as soon as you have a target. We'll figure out attack groups when we get there."

Even before his radio fell silent, Scweibbeller was back on the ground, knuckling forward and expecting the screaming hordes of Zeon to emerge from behind every wreck. No data on numbers. That couldn't be good....


The Reichskabinet almost visibly shuddered at the blast from the "welcome mat".

"We're not alone, sir. I have a company here and an APC is coming over, but it's not a good idea flying right now. Hope you make it."

Nobody had tought Hauptmann Ludwig Taube how to address his head of state, so he just kep to his normal proffessional politeness. He saluted and left the room: there was business to be done.

"You heard him. The safest place in this city right now is with our troops. We haven't got time to dawdle."

"You wan't me to carry you, sir?"

"Thanks, Dietrich, rub it in an old mans face. But yeah. Now, let's go."

In a distinctly unheroic fashion, the Boozian government made their backdoor exit.