NationStates Jolt Archive

"Shit Happens! - A Zukariaan Times Special!"
You have no doubt recently heard that the tensions between the Commonwealth and it's allies, including Zukariaa, and NATO have finally snapped, culminating in the Questarian attack on Allanea and a Skyian colony to the north. Needless to say, a NATO response is bound to happen and Zukariaa will be expected to take action by it's allies. Of course, Zukariaa is half-way across Haven, and is therefore unable to do anything on the Questarian front. The closest NATO asset nearby is the Cravanian colony of Dresdon, a massive city-island. Word has come in from the 26th Carrier Fleet "Pwnzerschrech" that Zukariaa is to move in on this tiny city and take control of it.

"Cravanians are pansies. We'll sweep this shithole within a few days, no problem." said Fleet Commander Sir Richard of Redruth, who is also the governor of the city of Redruth in peacetime.

So is it true? Can Zukariaa take control of this island city in a short amount of time with little assertion? It is likely. Dresdon is a relatively useless colony to Cravan. The only likely reason for attacking it is to remove any NATO presence from the immidiate area of Zukariaa. Dresdon could at some point be used as a launch site for an invasion of the homeland, should NATO take the initiative.

The opinion of the Zukariaan Times is that; yes, we can take Dresdon with minimal effort if a swift and powerful assault is taken with little mess ups. Cravanians are known for being stubborn assholes, so it's likely that a failure of a swift and decisive victory will cause a slow takeover, but a win nonetheless. The end of Cravan's control of Desdon has come.

We go forward together!

===

26TH CARRIER FLEET "PWNZERSCHRECH"
"Look at that water. Look at those trees. Look at that city." Fleet Commander Sir Richard of Redruth seemed to be drifting off into space thinking of the city being under Zukariaan command,"That's our prize, boy!"

Lieutenant Timothy of Beaverville was constantly under scrutiny for not being able to properly pronounce the Commander's name, and also for having a funny name himself,"Yes, Fleet Commander."

The fleet was within sight of the city. This was because they were well aware that there was no enemy fleet present. Any air attack was thought to be easily repelled thanks to the 20 Mogami-class air defense cruisers within the fleet. From the PWNZER's bridge, a man could see the entire fleet, including, in massive words, "PWNZERSCHRECH" on the deck of one of the Hayasake-class heavy destroyers. Timothy could see dozens of strategic bombers and Questarian made, like much naval equipment in the Zukariaan navy, Reppu air superiority fighters circling in the air above the fleet, readying for their assault.

The bombers would be hitting military installations and infrastructure all across the Cravanian colony. Because of the city-scape, civilian casualties were expected to be high but relatively acceptable, at least to the Zukariaan forces. Once the military installations were taken care of, as well as any naval or air force presence, and all outlying islands were captured, the main invasion would come. Dresdon would be taken within a few days.

Or at least, that's what the Zukariaans thought.

Dresdon Central Nerve Command
Bunker Complex Two
Deep Underneath the City Center

"Zukariaan contacts designated on heading zero-one-two-five inbound from north, large air groups consisting mainly of bombers and fighter craft. Target paths projected as industrial centers and military bases."

Commander Jose Fuentes lost muscle control for a moment, his jaw dropping at the news. His freshly lit cigarette fell to the floor, leaving a trail of embers as it made its descent.

"Alert North Dresdon Air Command of the situation. I want every plane we have in the air to knock these fuckers out."
"Yes, sir, right away."

***********

Jakkarda Air Force Base
Jakkarda Island
Northern Dresdon

The air raid sirens and klaxons sang their shrill song as the Four-Hundred Second Tactical Air Wing began its launch, the base's four runways operating at one time to get as many planes as possible in the air at once in a short amount of time. The first wave consisted of CF-4 Opinicus (http://z7.invisionfree.com/Illiorian_Arms/index.php?showtopic=66) stealth air superiority fighters, the finest Illiorian engineers had to offer. Later waves would mostly consist of the older F-1 Banshees (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=11073181&postcount=401) and F-2 Abaddons (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=11073192&postcount=402), with some CF-3 Archon (http://z7.invisionfree.com/Illiorian_Arms/index.php?showtopic=67) stealth mutli-role fighters making their first combat appearances. Similar air groups were being launched all over the northern islands, on intercept missions of the incoming bombers and fighters.

"Base, this is Gold Talon lead requesting AWACS support. I can barely see anything up here. Over."
"Negative on that one, Talon lead, at least until the runway at Dresdon International can get cleared of civilian traffic to allow us to take off. You'll have to depend on your radar and land based radar which should be linking up momentarily. The SAM web is up, once these bastards stumble in too far they'll be getting plenty of Starbucks (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12435345&postcount=849) rammed up their prissy Germanic asses."
"Copy that, Base, things are clearing up a bit now that we have ground radar feed established. Talon lead out."

Lieutenant Ariki "The Tiki" Tankana, a native of the local Dresdon area, brough his flight into formation.

"All wings.", he said into his radio with his heavy native-Dresdonian accent. "Begin assault run. These bastards won't get an inch."

Tankana jackknifed his Opinicus into a firing position on the lead bombers of the formation, singling one out as the red outlines appeared on his HUD and a shrill tone filled his ears. He realised that the second he fired he would lose his advantage of most of his stealth for a few moments, however by the time he went in for a second pass the Zukariaans would easily visually identify his Opinicus, which was painted with gold stripes on the wings to symbolize his squadron while the aircraft itself was a gray and white speckled camo pattern. The teal and forest green of the Cravanian roundel shined proudly in the sun as he brough his weapons to bear.

"All wings.", he heard from his commanding officer. "Weapons free, engage. Target to kill."

Tankana gently pressed on the firing trigger of his joystick twice, the rear launcher sending off two MAAM long-range air to air missiles at the lead bomber.

"Fox-Three, Fox-Three.", he said. "Missiles away."

His wingmates loosed their missiles as well, then climbed up in altitude to put themselves in an advantaged position over the Zukariaans. All eight Opinicus fighters leveled out, and prepared for immediate evasive maneuvers as Tankana knew the Zukariaan dogs would give chase.

"Alright, boys and girls., he said to his squadron. "Let's give them hell!"

AIRSPACE NEAR DRESDON
"This is gonna be hilarious. Just wait until these fuckers see us coming, eh?"
"Oh shut up and pay attention to where yo-" the co-pilot of the lead bomber only had time to gasp at the incoming missiles before his life flashed before his eyes and his beloved plane disintegrated before him. He expected to suddenly wake up in the presence of the Gods, as he suddenly felt a lovely breeze overcome him. But it was not to be. Upon opening his eyes he realized that he was dead anyways. Above him he saw the 70 Reppu air superiority fighters scrambling and getting close-range with the Cravanian attackers. Then he died from smacking his head on the ground.

In the air, Wing Commander Roger Mitchell was quick to give the order for all fighters to engage and shoot to kill. Each of them got in close with a target and shot off a missile, with each having 7 missiles to fire. Once this was done it was down to a simple shooting game. Since the Zukariaans had the obvious numeric advantage, it seemed they had a good chance of making short work of the Cravanians. "LET'S PWNZER" roared over the radios; it was the Wing's battle cry. It was now down to simply holding the Cravanians off long enough for the bombers to hit their targets, and hopefully annihilating them in the meantime.

"They want to play hardball, eh?", Tankana said with a grin. "Bring it, gentlmen."

Tankana the Tiki began to test the CF-3 Opinicus, pushing it and himself to the limit as the G-forces pressed him against his seat. He rolled into position behind a Zukariaan fighter, another Zukariaan close behind on his tail.

"Fox-Two, Fox-Three.", he announced into his radio as two missiles streaked from the rear of his fighter, one BVRAAM and on MAAM. The MAAM shot over his tail, moving straight into line with the juking Zukariaan in front of him while the BVRAAM sped behind him, locking on with the trailing pilot. Tankana quickly rolled out, not caring to see the results of his two-edged assault.

"Lead, Two. They're closing to gun range."
"Two, this is Lead. Then engage with guns!"

So far only fourteen total aircraft had been lost, six Abaddons and eight Banshees. All pilots had ejected safely, however it was these models of aircraft who were more succeptible to enemy fire with little in the way of stealth countermeasure. Flares were their main defense, and were performing surprisingly well against incoming missiles. Although outdated by Imperial Air Force standards, Banshees and Abaddons were still top-of-the-line fighters.

The battle in the air began to heat up as tracers flew throughout the battlespace, gunfire exchanged from each side. The furball was a wild ride for a novice pilot, and probably their last ride.

"Base, Talon Lead. How far out does the SAM range stretch?"
"Talon, you're barely ten klicks outside range. Why?"
"Because if we can lead these bastards into the SAM net we'll have a much easier time picking them clean.", he announced. Already the long range SAMs with Starbuck missiles poised for the strike sat waiting for the Zukariaan bombers. With the addition of the fighters in the furball there was little chance any enemies would survive the first engagement over the network.

There was also little chance of the Cravanians holding the Zukariaans off for very long. Landfall was inevitable.

AIRSPACE NEAR DRESDON
"Alright ladies, break off as fast as possible. This shit isn't working." Wing Commander Mitchell said, evading a Cravanian on his ass.
"That's because you fail at directing us, assfuck!" came a response.

The Reppu's broke out of the dogfight, with the enemy obviously going to be on their asses. Max speed was hopefully enough to keep ahead, when adding in a few evasive maneuvers.
"Fuck you. Break off, Squadron A, come with me on the left, Squadron B, come go to the right. Squadron C come from above. The rest of you just hit shit."
"Aye, aye, asshole!"

The group broke off into squadrons and went for their respective flanks. Those not in squadrons were to just charge into the mess and cause a disturbance, but several of them pussied out and flew back to base, knowing it was likely a suicide mission. When these stragglers hit the enemy group, many of them were going to fast to even maneuver, and would just smash right through anything in there way. Still, those on the flanks were organized and went in with full fire. It had become rather obvious at this point that the Reppu was much faster than it's Cravanian counterparts.

Meanwhile, the bomber group was going in thinking themselves relatively secure. With the enemy fighters being "held off", it was a seemingly easy bombing run.

BRIDGE OF THE PWNZER
"Fleet Commander, sir, we have to send in help of some sort to these guys. Satellite images are showing a web of missile emplacements. Our bombers are going to be eaten alive." Timothy informed Richard of Redruth. It was obvious from the video feed coming from Wing Commander Mitchell that this "easy" fight wasn't going to be so easy.

"Excuse me, did that airman just call his commanding officer an 'assfuck?'"
"Uh.. yes sir." replied Timothy. There was an audible,"FUUCKKK I'M DIEIN'" coming from the speakers.

"Alright, what do you suggest we do about this missile web?" asked Redruth, looking over some satellite pictures with AA emplacements marked in red,"Jesus."
"We need to bombard those spots, and quickly. We can't have the bombers turn around or they'll run right into the enemy fighters, but we can hit those spots with cruise missiles from here. We can tell the bombers to slow down and let the missiles hit ahead of them before going on."
"Why the fuck didn't we do this already?" There was no reply.

BRIDGE OF THE REDRUTH
"Captain, we just got word from Fleet Commander Sir Richard of Revruf, we're to launch cruise missiles at," the Seaman handed the captain of the Redruth the satellite images of the missile web in the path of the bombers,"each of these spots marked in red."

The captain nodded, multitasking the orders to fire and several other chores he was obligated to take care of as a captain. Some time later, the cruise missiles fired off towards their respective targets. The noise emptied from the room rather quickly, and the crewmen went about their business.

OOC-XD

[Reposted from Main Haven Theater]

===

“Roger two Zero, in the lift, in the lift AND LAUNCHING”

“Copy that Hellfire A, in the lift, in the lift AND LAUNCHING”

“Sea Three John, in the lift, in the lift AND LAUNCHING”

All across Kepler’s point, the modified UrbanSky bases were almost vomiting out SuF-5 Lion planes, launching them at 2 a minute, across 15 subterranean airbases, rapidly forming up Air Squadrons just above the airbases, using their VTOL capabilities to the full.

They were heading for Dresden City, a Cravanian Overseas Territory. It was largely de-navalised in the build up: from what could be worked out from Satellite the defence had been largely left to the Cravanian Air force.

In some ways, however, this made for a far more dangerous target, after all, two planes can fight each other on a ‘level’ footing, so to speak.

The Attack force that had been mustered consisted of 95 SuF-5 Lion’s, 45 configured to ‘Air Superiority’, with 50 configured to ‘Attack’. As well as this, there were 15 ‘Super Hurricanes’, the largest bombers in the Northfordian Airforces armoury. These mammoths could take upto 270,000 kg of Bombs or Missiles, and, in this case they were split fairly evenly. 10 of the Bombers were outfitted with long range Cruise Missiles, targetted at Airbases, while the remaining 40 were split into 20 carrying aptly named ‘Smart Bombs’, and 20 carrying a mix of Incendiary and High Explosive dumb bombs for one purpose: Firebombs. Finally, complimenting the assault force were two wings of ‘Wraiths’, the premier Air Superiority Fighters of the Northfordian Navy. Unlike the Lions, these things were designed with the sheer purpose of taking down other planes. They were equipped with a mix of Air-to-Air Missiles, and took the role of both the spearhead and the rearguard of the action.

Retribution would be wrought; it was just a matter of how much of a phyrric victory it would be…

Dresdon Central Nerve Command
Bunker Complex Two
Deep Underneath the City Center

"More contacts inbound from the southeast, presume hostile."
"Distance?"
"Two-hundred klicks. Closing fast."
"Tags?"
"Presumed as Northfordian, sir..."

News of combat in the Strob had not yet reached Dresdon, and thus it was now presumed that the Strob had been lit aflame with the fires of combat.

"Fuck... The bastards... What do they have?"
"Signatures match Space Union aircraft. Lions at the forefront, Wraiths behind."
"Divert the patrol craft on the southern bases. Keep the Abaddons and Banshees in the rear, Opinicuses and Archons at the forefront of the spearhead. They'll break through the formation head on."
"Yes, sir.", a technician replied, reaching for a red phone to relay the orders.
"Sir!", another technician shouted. "Incoming missiles from the Zuka fleet!"
"RAM batteries online! Take 'em out now!"

Miles and miles away, Rolling Airframe Missile emplacements whirred to life, spraying out a storm of FIM-270A Aquila short-range SAM's. A portion of the oncoming missiles slipped through, however many of the more central SAM sites were saved from the horde of missiles.

Although much of the threat to the bombers had been eliminated, there were still SAM sites dotting the outskirts of the city and some makeshift emplacements in the city itself. These would at least give the bomber pilots something to sweat about.

****************

501st Tactical Fighter Squadron "Thunderhawks"
Southern Patrol Area
Lt. Jacob "Fizzy" Fitzgerald

"All wings, form up. Assume wall formation.", Fitzgerald ordered. His squadron, a group of eight white CF-4 Opinicus fighters with blue pinstripes running up the fuselage and blue outlines on the wing paneling, formed into a wall formation, consisting of every other plane riding at the same altitude while the planes in between were riding at a different altitude than the others, creating a sort of zig-zag pattern running across the sky. Other squadrons assuming similar formations, and the armada of Imperial aircraft rose to meet the oncoming Northfordians. Ten squadrons of CF-3 and CF-4 fighters, eighty aircraft, made up the forward elements while sixteen squadrons of CF-1 and CF-2 fightercraft made up the reservist elements. The front wall was near invisible to radar, however the group was so massive it was easily visible from end to end by the naked eye.

The group made slow speed towards the oncoming Northfordians, ensuring there was still plenty of space between them when a colonel, the leader of the formation, attempted to make radio contact on a known Northfordian channel.

"Attention oncoming Northfordian planes, you are approaching an active combat zone as outlined by Imperial Law of War, subsection four article sixteen. State your intentions, please."

Fitzgerald's face contorted beneath his mask. He looked down to his cockpit's console, a rosary taped to the empty space next to a photograph of his wife and child. He stroked picture and gently rubbed the rosary, saying a short prayer while doing so.

"Guys...", he said into his squadron channel. "You all know that these guys we're facing... Well some of them might be our buddies who we would pal around with when on leave, right?"

Dresdon City often served as a haven for foreign servicemen on leave from friendly nations, and Northfordians were no exception. Many Northfordian pilots had passed through the city on one or more occasion, and many of them had become good friends with Cravanian pilots. And now politics drove these former friends to the point of combat.

The squadron continued in silence for a short time, Fitzgerald almost zoning out at one point. He heard his radar feed announced that he was now closing within 100km of the oncoming air armada, and still no response from the group's commander's call.

"Please, God...", he said quietly. "May everyone walk away alive today."

AIR NEAR STRATEGIC TARGETS
All Albert could hear was the air passing the bomber and his copilot's humming. It was starting to drive him mad. Sure, they had gotten through the barrage of missiles from Cravanian ground targets, along with seventy of the original hundred bombers. He was slightly worried that the crappiness of these specific bombers that the Zukariaan military command had decided to send them in with was going to lose them the fight for Dresdon. Why the hell hadn't they sent them in with something a bit more powerful? Who knew. Military Command must have underestimated the Cravanian air force, which was fucking retarded since Cravan was known for an uber-air force.

"Will you shut the fuck up? We're nearing the target." Albert burst out, finally snapping from the annoying humming coming from his copilot.

"Ya, sure," the pilot stopped short of whatever smart ass thing he was going to say when a spot on the ground suddenly lit up. Obviously some sort of anti-air emplacement. It was aimed right at them,"Fuck! Move this piece of shit out of the way, goddammit!"

"Good fucking luck. It's easier picking fly shit out of pepper than turning these fucking things."

This, unfortunately, proved true. The cockpit suddenly ripped apart, shredding the pilot and the roof along with it. Albert attempted to eject, but was unable to. He struggled to reach his combat knife, but to no avail. He was stuck, and the bomber was losing altitude at an alarming rate. He screamed in fear, seeing the ground near him. Ironically, the bomber was going to crash into the target they had been aiming for the whole time. A fuel depot. The explosion was marvelous, and Albert was dead.

The anti-air defenses that were farther inland managed to take down thirty of the rickety bombers, but many of them managed to make it to there destination. Some were even flying with holes littering their armor.

AIR NEAR DRESDON
"Goddammit, retreat! Retreat!" Wing Commander Mitchell had found that the air battle was lost. All that mattered was that the bombers would get to their targets. Now it was time to retreat to air cover behind the shield provided by the Mogami's,"Base, this is Wing Commander Mitchell, we are under retreat from Cravanian targets. Be ready to open fire if they come in close enough. We assume they'll be following behind us."

"Roger that, Wing Commander." came the reply from the lead Mogami in the group.

"Alright, men. Land back at base. I'm going back." Mitchell had made up his mind that he would make up for his shittiness in command earlier in the battle by taking down more Cravanians in any way possible, even if he would die.

"What the hell? You just put us through that and now you're ditching us? FUCK YOU!" came Squadron B leader's response to this news. There was no response. Mitchell had charged right back through the Cravanian targets and ejected midway through, hoping to kill as many as possible with his giant flying bullet.


BRIDGE OF THE PWNZER
Fleet Commander Sir Richard of Redruth was pleased, while also pissed. The bombers had largely been able to hit their targets, but the escorts sent with them had been decimated. He had not expected the Cravanian forces to have such advanced stealth fighters. He only wished that Zukariaa's Super Hurricane squadron could hit the targets that the bombers had missed.

"Fleet Commander, sir, we have just received confirmation that Northfordian forces have assaulted the Cravanians from the south." Lieutenant Timothy informed the admiral. It was the best news of the fight for Dresdon as of yet. So far it had just been a painfully underestimated assrape of the air force. This showed up on Richard's face.

"Good, good! Perhaps this will distract enough of these bastard's air force for a land invasion of this island closest to us," Richard put his index finger on the northwestern-most island, which appeared to be almost exactly half-city,"Yes, this is good. Send in one of the infantry divisions and the armored to take the northern part of the island, and the airborne to capture the city."

"Yes, sir. Satellite images show that the beach defenses of the islands are next to nothing. Casualties are expected to be very low during the landings."

LATER, NEARING THE BEACH OF THE NORTHWESTERN ISLAND
The landings ships were crowded, to say the least. Taylor Faulkner, commander of a tank and it's crew, could see that by the way men squeezed around the tank in the ship. It was unneeded, really. Resistance was expected to be very low on the beach. The men weren't stressed at all, understanding that they would take a beach head relatively quickly. Simultaneous to this attack, an airborne division was dropping over the city to the south. Those boys would have a much harder time than the armored or infantrymen would.

"Ready! Doesn't matter how defenseless this beach is, be ready!" Taylor yelled out to the men on the ship, before climbing into the tank and readying for the landing. Minutes later, men and machine stormed the beaches.

Dresdon Central Nerve Command
Bunker Complex Two
Deep Underneath the City Center

"Sat recon reports landings on the northwestern island of Tikojuana. Your orders?", a technician said calmly, as if it weren't even really happening.
"What do we have on that island?"
"Not much, sir... Mostly scattered infantry brigades at small bases inland. Nothing in the way of armored assets."
"Can we get them out of there?"
"Not without heavy casualties, Zukariaan navy has the area locked up tight."

Commander Fuentes rose from his chair, approaching the technician with whom he had been discussing the situation.

"So what would our options be? Merely leave our boys there?"
"Well no... We still maintain aerial superiority, sir, so we can bring in tactical support for our men on the ground. They have sufficient weaponry to fight off the Zukariaans, it's just a matter of manpower and the like."

Fuentes sighed. He was only the officer of the watch, as the higher ranking commanders of the island's military garrison were at other bases around the archipelago. He supposed this was for the best, of course, in case the central command was compromised.

"Give them whatever they may need to fight a guerilla war against the Zukariaans on the island. It seems they're taking this on an island-by-island basis, and we'll just have to be sure to keep ahead of them."
"Yes, sir."

********************

Outskirts of Dresdonian suburbs

The HMMWV cruised along the country road, the sound of the surrounding sub-tropical forest life singing in the distance, drowned out by the car's engine. The vehicle crawled to a stop outside a patch of forest where a white parachute was visible caught in the trees, four troopers disembarking from the car while the fifth remained on the CG80 heavy mounted fifty caliber machine gun.

"He can't have gone too far.", the lead soldier, a Sergeant said as he shouldered his CR20A2. His men fell in close behind, taking up flanking positions in the wood. They began a systematic sweep of the area, in a search for the downed Zukariaan pilot. His Reppu had crashed not too far down the road, and already a mechanized infantry squad was scouring it for whatever it could find for intelligence purposes.

"Attention Zukariaan pilot! Stand up with your hands held behind your head and your weapons dropped on the ground and you will not be harmed!", the sergeant shouted into the forest. "I guarantee your safety if you cooperate with us. Please, don't make more people die today."

The sergeant went ahead with his grenadier while his rifleman and light machine gunner stayed back, concealed in the heavy brush but ready to direct pinpoint covering fire at a moment's notice.

"Come on, man. Please, just give yourself up and everyone goes home happy."

************************

200m southeast of Zukariaan landing beaches

Corporal Jim Livingston, Imperial Cravanian Marine Corps, watched through his binoculars as the first Zukariaan waves landed on the beaches, unopposed as it was.

"Fucking vacation destination.", he mumbled to himself. "No fucking defenses anywhere to be found."

Livingston noted the number of tanks in this stretch of beach, and tried his best to count out how many distinct units of infantry had landed. He reported this all back to the base four kilometers inland, which was preparing to mount a defense. When the Zukariaans arrived at the base, they would find it completely empty, all materials and men moved into the nearby hills and thick forests of the island, into a network of caves discovered and built upon for this exact purpose.

"People who designed the defenses had at least one good fucking idea.", he again thought quietly aloud.

As he continued to watch the oncoming Zukariaans approach up the beach cautiously, yet with speed since they knew there were no defenses to be heard of, he laughed to himself.

"Poor fuckers must've never met an Imperial Marine before.", he said again. "They should be walking as slowly as possible. Savor their time together alive until they meet each other in hell."
"You know, your headset is on.", came a feminine voice with a distinctly mainland Cravanian accent through his headset.
"Heh, sergeant how's it looking up your end?"
"Same as your's. Tanks, tanks, infantry, and more fucking tanks."
"I think we've scouted out this area enough, should we head back, ma'am?"
"Yeah, I think so. We've scouted this long enough to know what's coming. And I'm getting a cramp laying on this log."

The squad of Marine forward observers began the trek back to their meeting place, stealthily picking their way through the forest and along the country paths. Finally, they all met at the predetermined meeting location after a few minutes of walking.

"Shall we head back to base?"
"I s'pose.", the female sergeant replied. "What else is there to do out here now? I figure command could use some more ammo boxes moved before we rig the base to blow."
"Yeah, I'm with her.", a private replied. "I'd like to help rig that place to blow if it's alright with you, ma'am."
"Agreed. Let's head back. The Hummer's parked just around the corner, we'll be back in no time."

The team of five walked on, leaving the Zukariaans behind them as they made the drive back to base. While the sergeant drove, Livingston stroked the laser designator which was mounted on the foregrip of his CR20A2 assault rifle. He would probably be using it alot in the next few days to knock out those armorfags.

Forested Area
Wing Commander Mitchell, who was only now realizing how much of a fucking moron he was, had taken a seat in a tree a few hundred yards from where he had originally landed. He could hear the yells from the Cravanians searching for him. Surrender? Who the hell was he, a British Londinian? Whatever the Cravanians were thinking, it made him laugh out loud. Instead of surrender, he had plans to do the exact opposite. Though, admittedly, he had no idea how he was going to take on an entire squad of Cravanians with only a combat knife. His officer's pistol had dropped during his descent, and so he was stuck to coming up behind his enemy and shanking them.

Or, that was the plan. Fortunately for the Cravanians, Mitchell was an established idiot. Instead of being sneaky, taking on camouflage, and killing them off one on one, he dropped from his place in the trees and ran head first at the Cravanian that had been asking for his surrender. The Cravanian would see a downed pilot with a large bleeding gash on the side of his head (which was actually from Mitchell playing with his knife in boredom, not the crash) running at him like a blood crazed madman. He was in fact not blood crazed. He was just pissed that he was so fucking stupid.

"I'll never surrender!"

The Beach
Even long after the initial landings, more men would continue pouring onto the beaches. Men were already moving into the forest, sometimes supported with tanks, to clear the path for the main advancement. It was expected that with heavily forested areas would come guerrilla warfare. Even if the Cravanian Marines were apparently very skilled, it was the general consensus amongst the men that they were too afraid of a Zukariaan regular to fight him in real combat.

At sea, the IZNS Mighty, the Courageous class battleship of the fleet, would be constantly bombarding the island with its four triple 27.5" guns. The belief was that the dense foliage of the island was easily exploitable by the Cravanians for guerrilla warfare. If all else failed, and the Zukariaans were harassed to no end by the Cravanian forces, the entire island would be put up in flamed in "Operation: Firebomb".

Clearing
A company of men and some tanks had been assigned the task of investigating a Cravanian base in a small clearing just off the beach. It was believed to be unoccupied, as no movement had been detected within. Normally the base would be bombarded into surrender and taken, but it appeared that the Cravanians had run away from the advance, so it was now just an easy capture. Private Roger Thomas went with his squad to move inside and clean up anything that may have been left behind by the Cravanians, especially people. Outside, the perimeter was secure, and inside was believed to be empty, so only a single squad was sent in to investigate. More were not sent in in case of an ambush. Basically the squad was meant to reveal anything the enemy was planning.

"He he, those bastards were really in a hurry, eh Thomas?" Thomas' long time friend Corporal Pierce laughed. So far the Zukariaans had gone without even a sighting of the enemy. Outside, Thomas could faintly hear the sounds of the IZNS Mighty bombarding the island. Somehow, Thomas felt uneasy. This didn't seem right. He could only manage to nod his head towards his friends comment, seeming more shy than actually disturbed. Little could they have known what the Cravanians had set up for them.

Little could they know that these would be their last words.

The PWNZER
"This is General Matthews, Admiral," Admiral Sir Richard of Redruth listened intently to the ground commanders report,"I'm pleased to report that the beach has been taken with no casualties yet. Hell, no enemies have even been spotted. Still, I think that the Cravanians are planning a guerrilla war in these dense jungles. I'd like to request an immediate enactment of Operation: Firebomb so that this will all be easier in the long run, Admiral."

Redruth took a moment to ponder,"I don't think so. Not now. Currently there is no need for this, and I would prefer not to be forced into destroying the entirety of the island quite so soon."

"Sir, please, the environment is of no consequence. This could save hundreds of Zukariaan lives. I'll give you some time to consider, maybe in that time you'll see what we face," Matthews went on, irritated,"Meanwhile, keep up the bombardment."

With that, the conversation ended, and Redruth was left confused about whether he should turn the island into a big flaming wreck or let the men take it the old fashioned way.

OOC-Sorry if some of this sounds like nonsense. I'm half asleep. ;_;