NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Given the utter lack of interest in my previous thread using the Novajev Republic, I decided not to waste the NPC nation and use it for something else. As an additional note, I decided to try a little something new and include images as an extra, though due to the limitations of the game engine I used to take these images, understand that they should not be taken as 100% accurate in appearance.

Current Regional Map (http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l93/Kilrany/SFRRegionalMapBeta14.jpg) – To note, on this map Novajev is the small spec located North of the most Northeastern Kilrany coast.
Novajev Republic (http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l93/Kilrany/Novajev-compilation-edited.jpg) – To note, each grid represents two square kilometers.
Detailed map of Novajev (http://www.freewebs.com/wolfswebsite/Novajev%20-%20Compolation%20Image.JPG) - More detailed map of the island.
OOC Thread (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=12994786#post12994786)


Valnari News Network – Breaking News – Crisis in the Novajev Republic

Across several public channels within the democratic nation of Valnari, the image on their television screens unexpectedly changed to that of a well-known local broadcaster in his mid-thirties in a simple grey suit seated behind a news desk. Running along the bottom of the screen from right to left was bold highlight of the situation.

“Good afternoon, we interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you the following special report. Early this morning we here at VNN received an email from Alexander Bure, a photographer who does a great deal of work for this network and its subsidiaries, who is current on vacation in the Novajev Republic. His email contained only a number of images he took presumably yesterday afternoon and late evening, it also contained a small message indicating that he would send a follow up message explaining the images he sent. However his follow up message never came and upon further investigation we discovered that the Novajev Republic appears to be under a complete communications blackout, and we have been unable to reach anyone on the small island nation.”

“After careful analyses of the photographs sent we have them here now to show to you, as a note some may be disturbing for younger audiences.”

The image of the broadcaster shifted to another (http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l93/Kilrany/imageone.jpg), however the announcers voice could still be heard, “Here we appear to have several vessels not far off the Novajev shore along with multiple smaller craft heading in. While the two larger vessels do not appear to be flying any national flag that could be seen in this photograph, their type has been identified as the Ivan Rogov class landing ship. The two smaller ships however have been positively identified as the Pauk class fast attack ship, both belonging to the Novajev Republican Navy.”

The image shifted again to a new one (http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l93/Kilrany/imagetwo.jpg), “While we were able to identify the naval vessels, these soldiers are however not known to our analysts, there uniforms do not correspond to any known military force, however their weapons are clearly of NATO origin, and a number of these zodiacs were spotted bringing small teams such as this one.”

Yet another new image (http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l93/Kilrany/imagethree.jpg) came upon the screen, “Here we appear to see a continuation from the last image sent by Bure, the armed men have disembarked from their craft and are moving ashore along side what appears to be an armoured personnel carrier that wasn’t noted in the previous images. We don’t know how he was able to acquire some of these images, but we presume he was either hidden from their sight or was concealing his camera, both we believe could account for the low quality of the images sent.”

Shifting (http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l93/Kilrany/imagefour.jpg) for a fourth time, the announcer continued, “Here we see some more of these ‘soldiers’ moving inland alongside another armoured vehicle, it would appear that Bure was able to snap numerous images of these unidentified forces coming ashore and forming up.”

A fifth image (http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l93/Kilrany/imagefive.jpg) came upon the screen a moment later, “This would appear to be Bure’s last image taken near the shore, we’re not sure at this point if he selected a hand full of images to send us, or if these are all he managed to take as they seem to shift location from this point on.”

A sixth (http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l93/Kilrany/imagesix.jpg) image was then displayed, “It is here we appear to see a radical shift in the tone we seem to get from these images and where we began to grow truly concerned for the well being of the Novajev population.”

“In our next image (http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l93/Kilrany/imageseven.jpg) the situation appears to be growing even worse as we appear to move into one of Novajev’s larger towns, although we see no scenes of fighting, the body language suggested by these men appear to show that they are fully prepared to fire and in the background we can see another type of armoured personnel carrier, apparently supporting these soldiers.”

An eighth (http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l93/Kilrany/imageeight.jpg) image became clear upon the television screens, “Here we continue to see what seems to be a deteriorating situation on the island, we do not know the context behind this image and we only hope this is not as bad as it seems, however out next image paints a very dire picture that does not help this one at all.”

Following quickly was yet another image (http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l93/Kilrany/imagenine.jpg), “This is the most disturbing of all the images sent to us from Bure, and the first real indication of fighting on Novajev. We have decided to keep our conjecture upon this image to a minimum given the ambiguous nature of this photograph. We here at VNN can only hope it’s not as bad as it would seem to be.”

“The last image (http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l93/Kilrany/imageten.jpg) we have to show you would appear to be the Novajev Republic’s government offices now under guard by these unidentified soldiers, with what appear to be several armoured vehicles in support. Given the background and when we received the email this morning, we assume this image was taken late last evening.”

The image on screen returned to that of the announcer as he continued, “We attempted to contact representatives of the Kilrany Empire, of with the Novajev Republic is supposed to be a protectorate of, but we received nothing but statements of ‘no comment’. We do however believe that it’s unlikely that the Kilrany Empire would simply sit back and watch such given its history, however at this time our contacts in our own military indicate that they have seen no major mobilization of Kilrany military forces.”

“Some of you may remember that not long ago the Novajev Republic was in the news when it announced that it was seeking a new buyer from the international community for its offshore oil after the Kilrany Empire announced its own decision to cease purchasing oil from the small island nation. Although at this time we don’t believe this has a direct connection to the current situation, we will update you as new information becomes available.”

-----

A few hours after the news had broken across the Valnari networks a briefing within Kilrany was ordered by Emperor Sviatov to discuss the developing situation between the military representatives of the various sections of the Kilrany Imperial Armed Forces. Somewhere underneath the Kilrany Imperial Palace grounds these men and women sat at a large wooden conference table within a well lit, but obviously underground conference room. In front of each seating position a flat screen monitor and small keyboard, much in appearance like a laptop, were built in to the table, some of these seats however were empty.

On the left side of the table sat the three representatives for the regular forces, Army, Navy and Air force, on the other side sat the three representatives for the combat divisions of the Imperial Guard, 2nd, 3rd and 4th Division. The head of the table, where the Emperor or Empress would sit was empty however as Emperor Sviatov was secretly away in Khurzav surveying the progress of Kilrany military forces there, opposite the head of the table was where the representative from 5th Division sat, an intelligence officer he, as any member of his organization, stood out amongst the group in the typical black semi-ceremonial uniform worn by 5th Division, only his eyes visible.

With the briefing already under way, the intelligence officer, identifiable as male by his voice, was answering a question posed by the Navy Admiral, “Yes, while the Valnari reported a complete communications blackout in Novajev, it is hardly complete. We are still in full communications with ambassador Barere, from what we can tell the forces that landed immediately secured or destroyed the island’s communications systems, independent systems, such as satellite phones for example are still functioning.”

Seated next to the Admiral was General Kostenko, representing the Army, “So do we know exactly what is going on in Novajev yet?”

“Not precisely no, but we have been able to determine the basics so far from what we already know of area, and back checks on the data from our satellite surveillance of the region.”

He paused for a moment to take a breath, “Late yesterday morning two landing ships set sail from the Republican controlled port of Trst in the FLRJ, since our blockade is only in affect against Fascists held ports, these ships went unopposed. Around noon they rendezvoused with several vessels of the Novajev Navy a hundred kilometers North of their coast and were escorted in from there.”

“Late yesterday afternoon they moved in close to the Novajev shore and began to unload their personnel somewhere between Saprovo and Bitarjev,” save for the intelligence operative the eyes of the officers gathered looked upon the screen before them, currently showing a 3D map of Novajev, a quick tap of a key on the keyboard in front of him by the intelligence operative and a pair of icons appeared in the water simulating the location the two landing ships had stopped at on all their screens.

“From there they began to quickly spread out and move to various objectives, from what we’ve seen it was a very organized and effective move given that it was carried out by mercenaries.”

Across the table this caused the 2nd Division general to raise an eyebrow, “Mercenaries? I suppose given the small size of the Novajev defense forces they’d be mildly reliable, but it still seems like a bad idea.”

The intelligence officer’s reply was even and straightforward, “No one said it was a good idea. But it seems to be working in this case. We believe mostly due to the small size of the Novajev National Police Force as you mentioned. As some of you should be aware their ground ‘defense forces’ are merely police officers given heavier weapons and extra weapons training, patterned off our own ISM forces, to that end they are trained here as part of a deal with their government, of course they have a slightly alternative curriculum to teach them their own nation’s laws, but that’s not important right now.”

“The entire NNPF is barely two hundred men strong and have always focused on police activity, leaving the proper defense of their island up to their naval forces. Clearly not a good thing for them as obviously their naval forces are backing this coup. Their heaviest equipment being a number of BTR-80s and MI-17s they bought from us a few years back. The latter however are now in the possession of the mercenaries, since the small airfield was one of their first objectives.”

“So we know it’s a coup then?”

“Yes, we have no doubt of this, there is no way that Admiral Rinat Ekster, their officer in charge of their navy, could have attained the funds to raise this mercenary army without help from high ranking members of their government, they would have been required to siphon the money needed from the Novajev coffers. Though we don’t know at this time which members are responsible and to just what degree.”

The 4th Division General spoke up at this time, “So they raised a mercenary army from the FLRJ?”

“Yes. It could have been done rather easily in secret, since the civil war in the FLRJ has died down into a sort of stalemate, it’s left a lot of soldiers without anything to do, and we have no doubt the offer of cash to fight for ‘Novajev’ would have drawn all the soldiers they wanted. Since we’re not on the best of terms with either faction of their civil war, it doesn’t surprise me that they didn’t tell us about this small build up; it’s very likely the Republicans took some of the cash themselves to fill their own coffers in exchange. However there is an additional problem, when the civil war initially broke out, some of your may recall that several other nations, including our own, allowed thousands of volunteers to travel to the FLRJ and fight for the Republicans, so it is a very distinct possibility that some Russkyan, Spazjenian, or even Kilrany citizens make up a portion of this mercenary force, and chances are most of them are veterans given the nature of that bloody civil war.”

This caused sever of the assembled officers to shuffle about in their chairs, none happy about the thought.

Once again the 4th Division General spoke, “What’s the Emperor’s stance on this situation? Are we to prepare an invasion force?”

“No.”

The curt reply from the intelligence officer surprised most of the officers, “But they are a protectorate. Are we not duty bound to come to their aid?”

“That they are, but when they were made a protectorate over a hundred years ago, it was under their condition that they have the right to self rule, we offered them our protection from foreign aggression only. Emperor Sviatov believes this is an internal matter since this mercenary force is operating under orders from members of their own government, thus we are not to interfere at this time. He has chosen to take a ‘wait and see’ approach.”

“However that being said there are Kilrany citizens vacationing on that island, seventy-eight to be exact, not counting the small embassy staff, and we are to make sure that those behind this coup know that we will not appreciate the deaths of any of our people. To that end the Emperor would like a small fleet diverted nearby, something small enough not to appear to be an invasion force, but large enough to be noticed and be able to defend themselves.”

The Kilrany Admiral thought for a moment before responding, “What are we facing here? What do the Novajev have?”

“The vast majority of their equipment has been purchased from us, though they are not of the exact same modifications we have on our own operational vessels. Currently their small fleet is made up of three Neustrashimy class Frigates, four Steregushchy class Corvettes and eight Pauk class fast attack ships. They currently have no submarines.”

The Admiral considered the situation a moment then replied, “Then I suggest we divert Ninth Fleet and have them take up station halfway between our coast and the Novajev coast, close enough to be noticed, but still a good thirty kilometers from their national waters.”

“As an additional note, the Emperor believes, with good reason, that some foreign nations may try and get involved in this situation, to take advantage of it so to speak, so we are to discourage any fleets that attempt to pass through the Zuiderzee Straight, however since the straight is mostly international waters, we are not to take aggressive action as we cannot legally stop them from passing through.”

OOC: Glorified bump

Captain Armen Tamiroff felt the rise and fall of the deck under his feet as he stood inside the bridge of his vessel, the KIN Kirin, a heavily modified Kilrany built Sovremenny class destroyer, through the forward rain plastered bridge screen he could see the large waves breaking upon the bow of his ship, they were bucking fairly strong winds and a high sea state with waves breaking at close to three meters. All in all it made him glade to be inside the ship, he could only imagine what it would be like on the relatively small island of Novajev some fifty kilometers North of them where, if he understood the situation properly, fighting was still underway, though he didn’t quite understand the supposed ‘sides’ of the conflict, as they weren’t entirely clear to him yet.

That didn’t matter to him though, as his ship wasn’t on a mission to attack anyone, at least not yet. Through the starboard window he could just make out another Sovremenny class destroyer in the fog, barely one hundred meters away from his own ship, it made him glad to have navigational radar, and the active data link between the ships of Ninth Fleet as they followed a Western course through the portion of the Tsyentralnoye Morye between Kilrany and Novajev.

A slight grin played across his face in the dimly lit bridge at that thought, to call Ninth Fleet a ‘fleet’ was something of a grandiose term for their numbers having only ten surface ships, thinking it more a small task force, but then, Ninth was dedicated to the protection of Kilrany national waters and rarely ventured into deep water. It made sense to him for their numbers to be smaller, given their role, it allowed for greater maneuverability then a larger force would allow.

Armen took a moment to glance down at one of the repeaters on the bridge, this one displaying the processed data from the ship’s passive array. The display in question was fairly basic, simply showing the ship in the center with several green and yellow overlapping circles emanating from various positions on the display. The green representing the locations of what were deemed to be friendly radars and the yellow those deemed to be a potential threat, which generally covered any radar sweeping the area that wasn’t of Kilrany origin. The yellow circles clearly emanated from several Novajev vessels over the horizon, although not all of them were being detected by the Kirin’s own receiver, but a composite image receiver through the data link with the other ships, and one, as Armen saw them, brave flight crew operating a modified KA-31 helicopter with its high powered early warning radar system above the fleet.

Looking off through the port window he could see the single Kirov class assigned to Ninth fleet, the large ship was an impressive sight to the Captain of the Kirin in the dim light and silhouetted in the fog. He mulled over the fact that it had once been the flag of the fleet for quite some time, that was until the Poseiden class entered service in the Kilrany Imperial Navy, the new ship served the role of command ship far better, and allowed for the system link the ships now used with its dedicated computer systems processing the data and retransmitting it throughout the fleet.

Content that all was well with the approaching night, he turned to leave, giving a parting order to the senior officer on the bridge, “You have the bridge Lieutenant.”

The younger man gave a quick crisp reply as Armen left the bridge, “Aye, aye sir.”

OOC: Glorified bump

Ales Alexievich heard the bullet snap by mere centimeters from his head and strike a tree a few meters in front of him as he sprinted as hard as he could through the small forest just Northwest of Skitkova. Farther in front of him he could see the dark navy blue uniforms of several of his colleagues fleeing in front of him, it was the first time he found the weight of the body armour, ballistic helmet and other equipment he wore as part of his job as a Novajev National Police officer, burdensome.

Adrenaline and fear though ensured he kept running all the same as he knew what would happen if he should stop, for not far behind were at least two dozen of the ‘damned invaders’ along with a pair of armoured vehicles, though fortunately this particular grouping of trees was thick enough to prevent them from coming in after them. Only five minutes earlier they had been the ones on the offensive, foolishly engaging what looked to be a small patrol of these still unknown soldiers as they approached Skitkova, they’d quickly found out there were more of them then they thought.

A moment later he noticed that two of his colleagues in front of him had stopped and turned around, pointing their weapons back this way and using a pair of trees as cover, he couldn’t recognize them though because they had their balaclavas covering their faces. Motivated by their actions he himself turned around to face their attackers just as he was about to pass by them. Looking down the sights of their Bizon submachine guns they didn’t have to wait long for their pursuers to come crashing into their sights. All three men unleashed long streams of fire from their 9mm weapons, several of their adversaries cried out in surprise at the snap ambush and took their own cover, returning fire with their own weapons, several upgraded M4 carbines and a M249, some weren’t so lucky and were cut down by the hail of gunfire.

They didn’t hold their ground long however, Ales’ magazine ran empty just as he heard his colleague to his left yell out, “Fall back!”

Without hesitation he did so, attempting to switch out his empty magazine as he ran, he dropped the empty one into a large pouch, pulling free a fresh magazine he almost fumbled it and dropped it to the ground as he ran past a tree whose branch snapped into his chest. He had just managed to snap the magazine into place when one of the other two officers who had stopped to fire took a burst into his back, the assault rifle rounds punched through the relatively lightweight body armour and tore about his insides, there wasn’t even a noise from him as Ales saw him drop to the ground.

There was nothing Ales could do for him, and as much as he wanted to stop to help his fallen comrade he had to keep running, otherwise he would suffer the same fate. So concerned were they however with the forces chasing them the two police officers didn’t notice the grumble of diesel engines in front of them until they broke through the North edge of the small forest.

Two BMP-2s had swung around the side of the forest and were driving towards the West no more then fifty meters from the tree line, just about to cut across in front of the two men as they broke through. If it was possible for them to do so on grass they would have skidded to a halt, as it were they both stopped as quickly as they could, horrified by the two armoured vehicles passing in front of them, their turrets trained towards the forest.

Both men got the same idea and attempted to sprint off to the right and try and get back into the forest, but before they could even take two steps both vehicles opened fire, a long burst of 7.62 from the lead BMP-2’s coaxial was momentarily overshadowed by the rapid thudding of a burst from the trailing BMP-2’s 30mm autocannon. Neither man made it to their fourth step.

Admiral Heart was woken by a pounding on her cabin door, "Ma'am. We have a coded message from HQ. Its priority so I was sent to retrieve you."
"Thanks..." I guess was added silently to that, "I'll be to the bridge in five, go back to your post soldier."
"Yes Ma'am!" was the curt reply followed by the sound of footsteps leaving.
It took her almost fifteen minutes to reach the bridge, but then again she was the commander of the whole battle group and this was peace time, she had that liberty; at least she thought she had that liberty until she read the message.

TOP PRIORITY
SET COURSE FOR NOVAJEV REPUBLICAN WATERS.
ALERT STATUS ORANGE!
FURTHER DETAILS WILL BE TRANSMITTED IN 24 HOURS.

To his crew around him, Captain Kaarel Lepp was the model of confidence and composure, externally at least, he was far from it though within the privacy of his own thoughts, he maintained the false exterior for his men, the current situation was bad enough, he didn’t need to make it worse by appearing to have second thoughts himself. Unaware of the approaching fleet from SaintB, his internal conflict came from his involvement in the coup currently underway on his native island of Novajev.

As Captain of the Trovara, the lead Neustrashimy class frigates of the Novajev Navy, his involvement had been mandatory for operations to go smoothly, Admiral Ekster had brought him in early, though not an actual part of the ‘inner circle’, he knew the coup was coming. It hadn’t been easy, but he had brought around the officers he needed to in order to get the navy on side and Ekster was able to see that the right officers were assigned to the right places.

It was hard for him not to feel conflicted, especially after it started, before then he had held out the naïve hope that the national police would stand down upon seeing the overwhelming numbers relative to their own, even join forces, but it didn’t happen. He had gone down to the ship’s communications room, he had heard some of their frantic calls for help over the short range radios the national police had. It was hard for him to stand there and do nothing as they demanded to know what was going on and why the navy wasn’t helping them.

The Admiral had given him new orders now though, he and the other two frigates were to face down the Kilrany task force that had recently showed up some distance from their national waters. It wasn’t exactly something he looked forward too, but fortunately it wasn’t as bad as it initially sounded, he wasn’t supposed to go out to them, but stay in Novajev national waters and keep and eye on the.

As the Admiral had put it in one of their conversations, The Kilrany are not the wild card here, they have nothing invested in who governs Novajev anymore now that we don’t supply them with oil, they have such a pathetic sense of honour, so long as we don’t attack them, and limit harm done to any of their citizens they wont do a damned thing. The real wild card comes from the international community, bunch of arrogant busy buddies who think they know what’s best. But if we do this right, we can use the Kilrany’s honour to our favour, exploit it for everything it's worth, for they wont just let anyone overtly attack us.

So many times Lepp had heard the Admiral use that logic to convince officers that what they were doing would work, hell, Ekster had used it on him many times, especially when he had brought up his concerns that the Kilrany might not do as the Admiral hoped, or when he asked about covert actions, but Ekster wanted to hear nothing of it, eventually Lepp had simply given up and done as he was told, much to the Admiral’s delight.

And so he found himself standing upon the bridge of his ship, doing his best to keep the confidence and moral of his crew up, all the while waiting for the other shoe to drop and everything to truly go to hell.

((OOC: Tag for later post))

OOC: This was going to be my ‘glorified bump’ for the day until I saw your tag above, however I’ve decided to post this anyway as I believe it’s pertinent information for the RP.

Following a near geo-synchronous orbit over the Socialist Federative Republics, a large Kilrany surveillance satellite responded to a signal ordering it to focus its primary camera on an area just to the North of the Kilrany Empire. The camera’s lens at first focused on a relatively small island, barely forty square kilometers in size, quickly though it continued to zoom in more as it began to take a wide angle image of an area on the island’s South West, finally focusing on a particular freighter moored up to a sturdy looking dock and being unloaded by a large crane.

At first glance the scene didn’t look terribly unusual for the normal port activity, but on closer scrutiny, one could see a number of camouflaged soldiers standing guard on the pier alongside a number of armoured vehicles scattered around the harbour itself. The satellite once again responded to a command signal and tightened the image in even more, closing in on the pier itself that the large freighter was moored too.

Impassively the satellite watched as large, covered pallet upon covered pallet was offloaded by the crane and carefully set next to each other. As each pallet was came to a rest workers quickly moved up and unhooked them from the crane to let it move on to the next, immediately after the workers were quickly shooed away by the armed men, some who would lift up a side of the fabric covers and disappear inside.

A moment later a second camera snapped on in response to yet another signal, this one also focused in on the pier and the covered pallets, but the image was drastically different then the other. Rather then a crystal clear image like the other camera, this one portrayed the area in a frenzy of multiple colours, ranging across the spectrum from blue, to purple, to red and orange, along with all the colours in between.

The infrared image easily highlighted the workers and soldiers as they went about the task of unloading the freighter, however had the satellite had any sense of curiosity, it would have wondered why there appeared to be nothing beneath the covered pallets. Just a single colour denoting their location, despite the fact that the satellite’s other camera clearly showed a soldier go under. The other camera seemed to take priority once again as it zoomed back up slightly, giving a better image of the entire pier, the infrared camera apparently no longer needed, it shut down.

As the camera watched there appeared several new arrivals on the pier, large semi trucks with long low sitting trailers, slowing and carefully backing towards the pallets. It was difficult to tell at first, but several soldiers appeared to congregate around a pallet closest to the trucks. Suddenly the camera zoomed in again on this particular pallet as the soldiers began to release several clasps that held the fabric in place. The covering removed, the satellite got its first good look at the contents underneath, at least with this particular pallet, it revealed several odd looking rectangular armoured vehicles, each with four large menacing looking, dark green and white tipped missiles.

Undershi City, Undershi Province, The Undershi Empire

Aleksander Miller was not a happy man at the moment. He had only just sent off a communique to the Kilrany Empire that had looked promising, as though it might lead to a profitable trading agreement, and now... well, now the Kilranies (was that even the correct word for them?) seemed to be having some trouble with one of their protectorates.

It was... an interesting kettle of fish, to be sure. A coup, or something like that, it appeared. Well, he had to do something, didn't he? But the war with the NPE wasn't going well at the moment... he couldn't follow his first angry impulse then, and just send the IIS to storm the beaches and acquire the heads of the rebel leaders as a gift for the Kilrany. Those troops were needed to protect Undershi from the threat of invasion.

What did he have to spare? The Undershi navy was dangerously overstretched, but... he paused for a moment, then checked his computer, looking for Undershi ships near Novajev. He found something like what he had been looking for almost immediatly. Two Undershi destroyers were escorting a convoy near there, helping it along on its way to Maldorians, one of the few nations that had trading relations with Undershi at this moment.

He prepared an order, frowning as he did. He didn't like to strip a convoy of protection, but he needed to make a show of friendship, that was essential if they were to be tempted into a deal with the Undershi Empire.

He would see what he could do...

Four Hours Later, International Waters Near Novajey

The Undershi Defender class destroyer Mannerstein hailed the assembled Kilrany task force:

"Greetings. This is Captain Joseph Kel of the Undershi Navy Ship Mannerstein. We are here at the behest of our government to act as observers and to render any assistance against the rebels that you might require should you decide to take action."

The KIN Fiery Dawn’s Combat Information Center was a well light, large octagon shaped room nestled inside the armoured Poseiden class vessel, the flag of Ninth Fleet. Located running around the length of bulkheads were the numerous command stations, from fire control, to communications, to electronic counter measures to radar, everything required to operate the ship from this room. Located predominantly in the center of the room was a large flat-screen monitor inset horizontal in a roughly square shaped table that came up to an average persons waist, all around the edge it dropped a small distance at a slight angle, inset in this area were several touch screen computer terminals used to alter the image displayed.

It was here that Rear Admiral Sofia Renatus stood alongside several members of her command staff, quietly discussing the situation as they checked the status of the fleet on the primary display. Currently displayed was a computer generated three-dimensional image of all known contacts within three hundred kilometers radius around the Fiery Dawn. In the center of the screen was the Fiery Dawn herself, surrounding her were the various green icons representing Ninth Fleet, farther out were a mix of yellow and white icons representing both potentially hostile contacts, and those positively identified as civilian.

Renatus’ attention was quickly drawn away from the display when the crewman at the primary communications console called out, “Ma’am, we have an incoming open transmission you should here.”

She nodded lightly and pulled a headset on over her ears, unplugging it from a short ranged wireless transmitter attached to her belt she plugged it in to the large table in front of her and tapped a few keys on the closest keypad.

After listening to the message she turned back towards the crewman, “Where is this coming from?”

A crewman nearby, operating the primary deed from the radar was the on to reply, “It’s coming from one of two ships approaching from the East,”

She glanced at the display again, picking out the two likely contacts, the computer estimated them to be a pair of destroyers based off the size of their radar return and the power behind their own radar signals, “Communications, why the hell weren’t we informed that a pair of … Undershi, Undershi destroyers passed through the strait?”

“I don’t know ma’am.”

“Contact fleet command and find out, also get all the information you can on these Undershi people, and patch me in to the open channel.”

“Yes ma’am.”

As she flipped a small boom microphone down in front of her mouth one of her staff quietly addressed her, “My guess would be they didn’t see two destroyers as being a threat.”

She gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgement before she tapped another key on the pad and spoke into it, her tone was calm and respectful “This is Admiral Renatus, commander of the Kilrany Imperial Navy’s Ninth Fleet, I mean no disrespect, but I would ask that until I can confirm your identity that you maintain a respectful distance from my ships Captain. I’m sure you understand.”

Captain Kel had been fortunate, Renatus had a rather diplomatic sense when it came to foreigners that was rare among Kilrany officers, it was believed she could have had a very productive career in the Kilrany Diplomatic Corp. if it hadn’t been for an overwhelming desire to sail a warship. As it was other officers might have simply responded with a ‘bugger off’ and been done with the Undershi vessels.

She continued a moment later, “If you are indeed here to render assistance then I’m sure it will be appreciated.”

A quick tap of the key deactivated the microphone and she unplugged it from the table console, “Communications, get me that confirmation quickly.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She turned back to the display and one of her staff spoke in a low tone, “You think they’re really hear to help?”

Her reply was equally as quiet, “I don’t know, but we’ll keep an eye on them anyway.”

“Admiral!”

Renatus turned around to face the source of the voice, the crewman manning one of the radar stations, “What is it?”

“We’re picking several new radar contacts emanating from Novajev, some are high powered systems.”

She cursed under her breath, turning back to the display she hit a key with altered the image slightly, suddenly displaying numerous doted circles, each one representing the computers estimate of the coverage of detected radar signals based off the strength of the signal, frequency and scan rate. She made out at least a dozen new such circles with their centers over various sections of Novajev.

The crewman continued, “The computer has identified the two larger signals as being a pair of P-37 type towed early warning radars, the other signals seem to be a mix of SA-17s and Tunguska air defense units.”

“Understood,” the Admiral’s reply was quick and the crewman went back to monitoring his station.

As she leaned back in to study this new information, another staff member spoke up quietly, “Ma’am, if they’ve bought this equipment from the FLRJ, and we sold equipment to the FLRJ, then-.”

Renatus finished the sentence for him in an equally quiet tone, “Then its quite likely they’ve got some nastier ‘toys’ on that island now too, yes, I know. Nothing to be done for that right now.”

“All we’re letting them do here Admiral is fortify that island.”

Half turning to face the communications section of the CIC she called out, “Communications! We’re my damn confirmation on the Undershi?”

“Still waiting for a reply ma’am.”

“Well hurry them along damnit, and send an additional message to fleet command, include a data dump of the new information we’re picking up from Novajev.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Her attention then shifted to the radar operators, “Radar, you so much as think you’re picking up a fire control radar you sound to alarm, understood?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Leaning in again one of her staff officers spoke, “You think the Novajev will attack first?”

The Admiral sighed lightly before replying, “They’d be foolish to do so, but I also would have thought it foolish to stage a coup in a nation that’s a protectorate of ours, so I’m not leaving anything to chance, and I don’t know enough about these Undershi to trust my back to them just yet. But if they’re just going to observe, then they can stay all they’d like.”

-----

Thirty five kilometers North of the Ninth Fleet, Captain Lepp looked at the display before him as he leaned in over the shoulder of the operator responsible for monitoring the passive radar receiver, it was somewhat cramped in the Trovara’s small CIC, but he made the most of it, trying to see what it was the operator saw.

Finally after a moment the young man pointed to the screen, “You see sir, here we have the multiple signals from the Kilrany ships, there over the horizon so we’re not being painted by their radar, though that AEW has got us fixed. Anyway, signal analysis tells us that the Kilrany radars are all operating on the same frequency and scan rate, but these two new contacts, their radar is different, different scan rate and frequency, the computer doesn’t recognize the type. They can’t be Kilrany and they don’t match anything we have on file that belongs to other nations of the region.”

Lepp gave the young man a congratulatory pat on the shoulder, “Good job, communications, contact the Admiral and inform him we may have international forces in the area.”

“Yes sir … ah sir, I think you should hear this.”

He quickly moved the short distance over to the communications station and picked up a large headset and listened in, after a moment he turned to the crewman, “Are you recording this?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good, when they’re done send a copy to the Admiral, he might be able to drum up some information on these, Undershi people.”

“Yes sir.”

The Undershi captain's reply was swift, but respectful:

"Acknowledged, Kilrany fleet. We will hang back and wait for you to make a decision. We are only here as a gesture of friendship on behalf of our government, as we are engaged in trade negotiations with your government at this time."

HMS Clement
Zuiderzee Strait

Beneath the surface swept by rains and strong, foamy winds, a dark blue near cylindrical object moved almost silently along with the under-surface current, on a north north-east track. Underneath the soft blue lights illuminating Operations, Captain John Moore rubbed the shadow growing upon his chin. Beneath him on a high-definition display screen lay a map of the strait and the immediate environs, inset images received via uplink with orbiting Oceanian satellites providing targeting data on various warships and freighters in the strait and in the distant Tsyentralnoye More.

"Bloody Slavs," he muttered to himself, his tongue struggling to form the proper phonemes.

"Captain," an inquisitive executive officer queried, unsure of his skipper's intonation.

"Nothing, XO. Anything new on Track 27?"

The executive officer, younger, taller, and more boyishly handsome shook his head. Several minutes prior, the Royal Navy submarine had detected a small surface vessel, her screws allowing the quiet submarine the change to mark and track the vessel at great distance. Since then, Moore had been called to Operations from his sleep and the ship set to battlestations, a step below general quarters.

"ESM get anything?"

"Quite a bit, sir. We have several surface and aerial search radars as well as what appears to be an airborne array for early warning. Quite far out from us, for now on a bearing about three-zero-zero."

"Any chance they picked us up?"

"We only had the mast raised for a few, sir, and in these seas I doubt it would appear much of anything--even if they got it at such a distance."

Moore nodded. He looked down at the table briefly, clicking and dragging the touch-screen to bring up a tactical plot that overlaid the data referenced by the XO. His original intention of beginning a new course to take the submarine to the southwestern coast would be difficult at best with a surface group between him and the landing zone.

"XO, come here for a second," Moore said calmly, directing the young officer's attention to their current and projected course. "By this route, our odds are narrowed. I still think it possible to carry out our initial objective, but, it will be far more difficult. I think it best we opt for a simpler ingress and plot a new course."

Taking a moment, he pulled out a stylus and drew a rough course irrespective of the fathom curves merely to indicate the new direction. "I want our landings to be on the eastern, not the western coast. I doubt our friends aft will care for the change in plans, but the defences along this approach are more manageable."

"It also means Triumphant can stay further south of the operation area," the executive officer added, referring to a larger Oceanian submarine a few hundred kilometres south of their position. The Triumphant, unlike Moore's command, was equipped primarily to deliver a devastating anti-ship payload against large escorts or capital ships. The cruise missiles onboard could deliver a decent payload to a target over a thousand kilometres away; Moore hoped he would not have to rely on them--mainly because he would never hear the end of it back in Devonport.

"Indeed," Moore replied, almost to himself. "Alright, get the new course plotted and I am going to head aft to inform our friends." The two men smiled, the sooner they were rid of them the sooner they could revert from being a ferry to a combat submarine.

David Rodney watched with disinterest as the men under his command flipped playing cards down upon the deck. Between the five lay several piles of cigarettes each man with a varying amount. A quiet tap on the shoulder shook Rodney from his spectating of the sport, turning to see the familiar face of Captain Moore. "What can I do for you, Captain?"

"Do you have a moment," Moore asked, inviting Rodney out into the passageway.

"Something change, sir?"

"To a degree, Captain," Moore responded. Despite the equivalence in rank, Moore used the title in respect only, both knew the submariner outranked the former infantryman. "We took a quick scan of the surface, lots of surface ships to the north and west,"

"Between us and the LZ," Rodney added quickly, completing Moore's sentence.

"Indeed. Therefore, we are changing course, headed north north-east, and then making a wide swing and head straight west until we reach some beaches off the eastern coast of Novajev." Moore took a small personal display device from his pocket, opened up a downloaded map of the small nation and showed it Rodney.

"With permission, sir, I would like to request us to be put ashore somewhere around here, between Saprovo and Bitarjev." Rodney pointed with his finger at the general area on the map. "Of course, we could do for some more satellite reconnaissance of this landing area the next chance you get for your uplink. But as it stands, it looks to be sparsely populated and near the main arterial route headed out of Bitarjev."

Rodney remembered that the original invasion force had landed in the general area, and by hopefully infiltrating near to where the invaders had landed he could gather some intelligence on just who had landed and potentially what they were doing. He doubted that serious reinforcement would occur along the coastline, it would be far easier (and far saner) to land heavy equipment and reinforcements in a port. He hoped, in effect, to follow the footprints and pick up the trash.

"Very well, Captain," Moore replied, taking back the device and shoving it back in his pocket. "Next comm check I shall relay your request to the Admiralty."

The two men separated, neither feeling the gradual course change. The water flowing smoothly over the hull, naturally circulating around the reactor, cooling it without noisy pumps while a silent pumpjet pushed water out in a narrow focus providing the force necessary to keep the submarine moving quietly at just a touch over ten knots.

Just outside of the Kilrany fleet's RADAR range Admiral Heart's battle group passed through the remainder of the storm that had hit that very same fleet earlier. The group consisted of the Odessyus Class Super Carrier KSB Paris, 3 California Class Cruisers; KSB Indomitable, Wayfarer, and Persius, a single Seahorse class submarine equipped for anti submarine actions, and one Dreadnaught Destroyer The Arachnea. The admiral did not doubt that her 6 ships would be spotted soon but for now they all held almost completly still awaiting orders. The carrier's deck was currently empty, the driving wind and rain made launching aircraft difficult and Heart had decided against risking any pilots for a currently non-combat mission; however status orange was in effect and the crew of each ship was ready to launch an attack if necesary.

Exactly 23 hours and 57 minutes after the order to sail had been given another communique was wired over secure channels to the bridge of the Wasp. "We are to continue ahead and hail the Kilrany fleet commander and inform them we are not hostile. Our current mission is to observe and report so we may need to get some planes on deck to perform some recon missions."
"Yes ma'am." the Operations Officer answered and saluted crisply.
The Admiral turned toward one of the comm officers, "Start scanning comm stations and find what frequency the Kilrany fleet is currently on, I need to speak with thier commander."

Hawker Air Force Base, Arrio, Aequatius Prime

Colonel Donald England walked along the hallway of the base's central complex following his summons as ordered by his commanding officer, the J-3 of CENTSOCOM, to meet with his team's assistant at one of the many briefing rooms within the massive Air Force base. The base had been originally constructed during the Cold War for the Republic's use in supporting allied operations in the Pacific, it had now become the main air hub for any military travel out of Aequatius Prime. The colonel was accompanied by his team's second-in-command, Major Keith Scott, who he had worked with since their days at the Officers Academy in Attica and through the Krist Heart Special Forces Training Centre in Espandor. They were dressed in the usual base garrison dress of the Woodland Standard Pattern utilities with polished black leather combats, broken in well on their constant exercises. Upon reaching the briefing room, they were greeted by one of the CINCCENTSOCOM aide-de-camps, a young lieutenant, as she offered them coffee and informed the two officers that the general would be arriving late.

"Typical Army," Joked Scott as he took a bottle of water from the ice container on the table and took a seat.

England smiled as the lieutenant handed him a cup of coffee and exited the room, "You should expect this by now, Keith, you're an Oh-four."

The wait was short before General Omar Anthony made his way into the briefing room with his aides in tow, the latter carrying a number of manila folders. The general made no effort to waste time as he addressed the special forces officers, "Greetings gentlemen, this one's coming right from the top, so we'll get down to business," He said as one of the junior officers turned on the projector and the wall screen was filled with the image of a map, "This is Novajev, this nice little republic has had its legit government removed by some bad mercenaries and we've been asked to go in there and kick them out to help out the new allied government in restoring rule."

"What is my team going to have on the ground and what is the matter of our deployment in-theatre?" Asked Colonel England, "I'm hoping we're not going to be left out to dry."

"Your team will consist of a platoon with three assault sections, one command and control, one support section and three M1295 tactical vehicles," Explained Anthony as he looked through the report, "You'll be infiltrated by air using AFSOC MC-130Q Combat Talon II airlifters and support will be taken care of once you are on the ground. Including conversion kits to change your weapons over to local ammunition sources."

"What can we expect to face on the ground?" Asked Major Scott as he wrote on his notepad, "What's our timeframe and style of operations were to conduct?"

"Intel has the enemy numbers marked at around an understrength brigade, with at least two maneuver battalions and a number of support elements, including armour and fighting vehicles. The timeframe for operations will be evaluated as progress is ongoing and you will be running disruptive missions, discourage these mercs from continuing their advances throughout the country and rally the population against them as well. You will have an officer attached from both the Psychological Operations Command and Civil Affairs Command to help in that area."

OOC: This isn’t as good as I’d like sadly, my concentration is rather shot because my niece in visiting and she’s a rather noisy little one. A better post should come in due time.

The Zuiderzee Strait and in turn, the Tsyentralnoye Morye were perhaps the single busiest bodies of water within the Socialist Federative Republics, hundreds of merchantmen passed through the relatively narrow stretch of international waters to do trade on a daily basis. To make matters more frustrating for the crews of Kilrany ASW aircraft, every nation of the SFR, save a few select ones, operated surface and subsurface fleets, so even if these crews managed to pick out a submarine from the bevy of background noise, it was next to impossible for them to positively identify any such contacts unless they came closer to Kilrany itself, this didn’t however stop Kilrany naval command from sending them up to routinely scan the waters around the Kilrany Empire for such potential threats.

In comparison to the task set out before the men and women operating the ASW aircraft, those who operated in the Kilrany AEW aircraft had a much easier, if still a rather difficult task. Their objectives were simply to identify all surface and airborne contacts approaching Kilrany, even if merely passing by, categorize them, and pass that information back to intelligence for processing. The Kilrany were a naturally suspicious and somewhat paranoid people, and it had cost them many potential friends in the international community over the year, mainly from NATO*, though to most of the SFR, they were valued allies.

At the narrowest point of the Zuiderzee Strait, there was a mere one hundred and eighty kilometers of international waters between the national waters of the Kilrany Empire, and the Me’I Chuange, and both nations were well know for being fiercely protective of their national waters. The Kilrany Empire itself had no coast guard, as some nations did, instead the ships of the Kilrany Imperial Navy routinely patrolled their waters, and with no overseas holdings to protect, the focus of the vast majority of the navy, was on protecting Kilrany waters, and the area around it.

As it was, while the passage of the HMS Clement through the Strait was able to go undetected, the brief signal it sent was not, to far away to actually get a proper track on it, one of the Kilrany AEW aircraft with SIGINT capability momentarily picked up on the short lived signal. Even through the best efforts of the crew, they were unable to pinpoint the source of the signal from the current traffic in the Strait before it ended, all they were able to determine was that the signal did not correspond with communication systems known to them, and that it was an encrypted signal.

While the two Undershi Destroyers had been able to pass through the Zuiderzee Strait without difficultly; largely in part to the fact that a pair of destroyers were neither uncommon nor considered a significant threat, the sight of the carrier group from SaintB, albeit a small one, caught the attention of Kilrany fleet command. Though because they were located in international waters there was nothing they could legally do to the as of yet, unidentified formation. In an almost mirror condition, someone else was monitoring the progress of the SaintB fleet and attempting to locate the appropriate, open channel, being monitored by the this new fleet, intending to ask it’s purpose in the SFR.

Though given the current state of affairs in the SFR, there were only two reasons the Kilrany could think of for a foreign taskforce to enter the Tsyentralnoye Morye, either they were seeking to become involved in the FLRJ civil war, or they were coming to investigate the incident on Novajev. Since the FLRJ civil war had for the most part cooled down into a stalemate, the standing ‘guess’, was that they were coming to investigate Novajev. Unlike in the case of the Undershi destroyers, Kilrany fleet command chose to advice Admiral Renatus of the approaching taskforce, though they were not able to give her its final destination.

*Most of Kilrany history is based off real world history, so in this case I am referring to the NATO of the real world, rather then of NS.

-----

Onboard the Fiery Dawn, Admiral Renatus had finally received the confirmation on the identity of the Undershi vessels that she had sought earlier, which also confirmed the statement by the Undershi Captain that they’re two governments were in negotiations. Around the same time she had received notice of an as of yet, unidentified naval taskforce passing through the Strait, though there was nothing she could do about it for the time being.

Instead she once again plugged her headset into the hard line and gestured for the radio operator to patch her into the open communications frequency, “Captain Kel, this is Admiral Renatus again, I’ve received confirmation on your identity, your welcome to remain if you wish, however I should mention that at this time, our orders are merely to observe the situation on Novajev and ensure that our citizens on the island are not being mistreated.”

Outside the ship the weather was finally braking and a calmer sea state was taking hold around Novajev, though the skies were still overcast and a light and sporadic rain fall.

Captain Kel responded almost immediatly:

"Alright by me, Admiral sir. The Undershi navy sent me here as a gesture of friendship. We will do whatever you want us to. If you want us to standby, we therefore will. My vessel lacks a Marine detatchment, so any shore action on my part would be quite impossible."

OOC: Any chance of a place for me? It would be my first set of posts. Thanks.


IC:
OFFICIAL COMMUNIQUE

From: Diggledom Foreign Office
To: Kilrany Government

Message:
We have noticed a situation developing in the Novajev republic. Due to your peacekeeping actions during the occupation of Kurzav we believe you have the necessary expertise to observe the situation as it develops, however, we have only recently opened our borders for foreign travel. This leads us on to the main point of this message.

There are a total of three hundred and forty one (341) Diggledom citizens presently in Novajev. To this end we are requesting your permission to station a small naval task force in the area. We would appreciate a place to dock and let our naval forces have some shore leave, while this is not necessary we thought it would be worth requesting and your nation is the logical choice being the nearest and seemingly the most likely to look favourably on our request.

If you do agree to our deployment we can send you a full list of our forces that will be arriving. Thank-you for reading and we look forward to your reply.

The submarine from Azazia was not the only submarine foreign to the Socialist Federative Republics making its way silently through the Zuiderzee Strait; an older model Los Angeles class attack submarine of the Iriani Navy was also present on a roughly Northeasterly course. Though it was only just now entering the Strait, it was however operating on full EMCON protocols, and had even gone to far as to pick out a neutral merchantman, in this case a large super tanker to travel under for the time being. The crew of this submarine were playing a dangerous game, maintaining a course and speed perilously close to the keel of the large tanker, who’s own crew were oblivious to their presence.

While it may have been the intent of the HMS Clement to put ashore a small special-forces team to investigate the apparent coup on Novajev, the crew on this nameless Iriani vessel had far more sinister intentions. The submarine was operating with a skeleton crew, those men brave enough to volunteer for a mission they knew nothing about at the time, other then that they might not be coming back. Every piece of hardware and software on the submarine traceable to the Iriani had been removed and replaced with less sophisticated equipment from international sources, not even the crew carried any of the usual ID.

It had only been a year since an Iriani fleet had passed through the strait bound for the FLRJ, one of the only nations to come to the aid of the Fascist faction in their bloody civil war. In the end though their ground forces had been forced to surrender to the Russkyan ground forces after the Kilrany had unexpectedly initiated a full blockade of the Zuiderzee Strait and any vessels bound for the Fascist forces, cut off from their supply line, they had little options.

Despite the fact that the Russkyans had kept their word and all the Iriani soldiers were repatriated with their equipment, and the Kilrany had allowed their fleet to leave the area intact, they now had a score to settle with the Kilrany Empire, who they blamed fully for what they saw as a humiliating surrender.

It was a strange set of circumstances though, only a year and half prior to this day they would never have even considered taking such actions, but situations change. At one point they had secreted supported a small dissident political party in the Kilrany Empire, their hope at the time was to merely create unrest in the nation by having this party spread its democratic ideals. The plan had backfired horribly however as the group in question took to terrorist actions, rather then the peaceful protests and demonstrations that were allowed in Kilrany.

At the time, while they still had no desire to face the Kilrany in combat, they had quite literally cut all ties with the terrorist group, eliminated all the contacts that knew that the Iriani were supplying the Kilrany Democracy Now Party with funds. It had been required, at the time they had no desire to war with the Kilrany Empire, something that would have been inevitable had they found out the Iriani were directly responsible for the KDNP changing from a harmless group of students to an infamous terrorist group known publicly to have attempted to assassinate the Emperor’s sister, Princess Sviatova during her eighteenth birthday, and for taking credit for the assassination of the previous Kilrany Empire’s Finance Minister, who had been killed by a Russkyan mercenary they hired.

Those two actions alone would have been enough for the Kilrany to declare war on Iriani if they had known they were behind the KDNP, but they were not the only actions they took. Due to their connection to the terrorists at the time, they were aware of two other incidents that had never been released publicly by the Kilrany Empire and were classified as non-events. One was a brazen attack by a KDNP cell on a Kilrany nuclear launch facility, where they failed to steal several mobile strategic nuclear missiles, and the second, was a direct assassination attempt against the Emperor himself, it was after this last one that the Iriani realized what the KDNP had become and how dangerous their existence was for them, and cut their ties. It was not long after this that the KDNP were utterly annihilated within the Kilrany Empire, no mercy had been shown to them, it left only a few sporadic cells left alive in a handful of other nations.

But now with the loss of their hesitation to take action against the Kilrany, the Iriani planned to take advantage of the latest thorn in the side of the Kilrany Empire. It would take roughly three days for them to follow their roundabout course to their mission area North of Novajev, but when they arrived, they intended to turn this thorn into a open wound.

Admiral Renatus nodded her head slightly despite the fact that the Captain of the Undershi vessel wouldn’t be able to see it, “Understood Captain Kel, do not be concerned about a marine contingent, we are not an amphibious warfare group, we will not be attempting a landing ourselves. You are welcome to hold station with us.”

Seemingly content, she muted the microphone and addressed another officer across the display table from her, “Well Captain, you don’t have any problems with this do you?”

Leo Kvinitadze, the Captain of the KIN Fiery Dawn gave a slight nod of his own head, “No ma’am, they’re only two destroyers, they’d have to be insane or suicidal to try and backstab us here, they’d never make it out of the Tsyentralnoye Morye alive.”

-----

OOC: You are more then welcome to join Diggledom. I’m also willing to accept that you have nationals who were caught on the island vacationing, tourism is supposed to be a pretty big thing on Novajev. I’m not so good most of the time with diplomatic messages, so this one isn’t as good as I’d like, but it will have to due given my lack of inspiration for a better one.

Kilrany Foreign Affairs Minister Pavel Kasatikin raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise as he read the message sent by Diggledom, it was so very rare as far as his experience went that a foreign nation would actually ask permission before sending a naval task force near another nation’s coast. After a pair of quick calls on the secure phone line, he quickly drafted up a response.

Sealed Diplomatic Communication

To: Diggledom Foreign Office

We appreciate your confidence in our abilities and after a speaking with the Emperor we see no reason to deny your request to deploy as small task force as you have a vested interest with the safety of your citizens at stake. We too have citizens currently on Novajev caught in this apparent coup and understand your desire to see to their safety.

As to your second request, due to some less then stellar events of the past, we are not in the habit of granting shore leave to nations we do not have regular relations with. However, after a brief discussion with our naval staff, they have agreed to allow shore leave for your personnel, our only stipulation is that there be no more then four ships in port at any one time. The port city of Plovdiv on our Eastern coast will be open to your ships, clearance with the Navy has been granted for entry into our national waters.

Kilrany Foreign Affairs Minister
Pavel Kasatikin

-----

It was perhaps not the best idea, but Gerum lightly pushed aside the curtain blocking his window and looked outside at the area around the small town of Anjukov, the capitol of the Novajev Republic from the second story of the Kilrany Embassy. It wasn’t much of an embassy, more of a small manor at best, usually containing a small staff of less then twenty people and a single twelve-man section of infantry for security. It now held and extra twenty Kilrany, citizens on vacation who got caught away from the relative safety of the indoors when the coup began and came to the embassy for cover because it was closer then their hotels.

Not much of a Republic anymore though is it, Gerum mused to himself as he watched as one of the BTR-Ts belonging to this mercenary force drive past the front of the embassy and disappear around the corner. As the Ambassador to Novajev from Kilrany, he was just as surprised when the coup began as the Novajev National Police. Despite his first hand view of these soldiers however, it was only because the embassy was still in contact with Kilrany that he found out they were mercenaries.

On top of that they seemed to be going out of their way to keep Kilrany citizens safe, late last night after the storm that had drenched the island in rain had finally died down, several medium lift trucks were brought in by these mercenaries filled with food and water to help feed the increased population of the embassy. He couldn’t speak for the other foreign citizens though, since his knowledge of the situation on the island extended only as far as his sight from the embassy and the contact maintained with home.

He was able to pass on some useful information however, having served his time in the Kilrany military as was mandatory when he was younger, he recognized certain characteristics of this force he could pass on. For the most part it they seemed to be organized in a light infantry and mechanized infantry fashion, he’d yet to see any main battle tanks, though they seemed to have plenty of transport trucks.

At this point he hoped that one of two things would happen, either the coup would be complete and their position made secure enough to allow a semblance of normalcy to return, or the Emperor chose to take more direct matters and at the very least get citizens off the island until the situation was resolved.

Diplomatic communique

To: Pavel Kasatikin
From: Amanda Ethridge

Message:
Thanks for the approval of our entry. I am informed that all the local laws will be enforced by naval police while the men are on shore leave and the Naval officers will communicate with the local police forces during all leave.

The Dauntless carrier group was conducting training exercises near the area and will be arriving shortly to assess the situation. An ORBAT for the group is as follows:~
1 Broadfin Aircraft Carrier (Dauntless)

4 Kitefin Class Modular Mission Ships (Fearless, Bravery, Courage, Venture)

4 Whitefin Class Multimission Destroyers (Gallant, Indomnitable, Infallible, Insuperable)

5 Finback Tankers

2 Hooktooth Ballistic Missile Submarines

2 Finetooth Attack Submarines

Diggledom thanks you for your cooperation and looks forwards to a profitable relationship between our countries.


----------

"Admiral Hall?" A naval rating had entered the mess hall and unable to see the admiral had been forced to shout to draw attention to himself over the excessive noise created by the after exercise party.

A short, dark haired man pushed his way to the front of the crowd and motioned for the rating to step outside before following him and closing the door behind them.

"What can I do for you then Rating...." The Admiral glanced at the nametag on the ratings chest, "Barga?"

"Comm message came in for you Sir." The rating handed the Admiral a small sheet of printed text. The admiral quickly read through it before smiling.

"Finally, we get to interact with another nations military forces. Amiably at that! Almost better than could be hoped for. Can you send a message to these Kilrany, saying we will be arriving in a couple of days. Then go and have some fun at the party, I have to prepare a couple of things." The admiral smiled at Barga before walking off towards one of the nearby briefing rooms.


OOC:

Will sort out my arrival in a bit. What is the coastal town like? Cheers.

Normally the Kilrany people were very suspicious of foreigners; their history had long taught them that they were not to be trusted, the most prominent example being the five hundred years the nation was occupied by the Roman Empire. Exceptions to this were only ever made after their trust had been hard earned, it would be no different for the people of Diggledom. While they wouldn’t face outward hostility from the Kilrany, most were more then willing to treat anyone with respect so long as it was returned in kind, but they would not go unwatched.

To that end, before Kasatikin drafted up another message to the Diggledom Government, he had spent several minutes on the phone with the commander of the Internal Security Ministry forces in Plovdiv to insure they would be out in full force during the Diggledom’s shore leave. The ISM being Kilrany’s national police force, they were a heavily armed, almost paramilitary organization and were officially a separate branch of a military alongside the Army, Navy, Air Force and Imperial Guard. Despite this they were still a police force first, and while they utilized heavier body armour, submachine guns and assault rifles in conjunction with light armour, appearing more like most police force’s special weapons teams, they were still just police officers present in order to keep the peace.

Sealed Diplomatic Communication

To: Amanda Ethridge

We greatly appreciate the information you have provided us on the task force you intend to send, arrangements have been made to see to it proper mooring stations, those deep enough for military vessels, will be standing, reserved for your vessels.

Though your MPs may not be necessary, I’m certain that our police officers will be grateful for their presence. To ensure there are no misunderstandings, I have arranged for some of our officers to greet each shore party as they come ashore and briefly inform them of any of our national laws they may not be aware of, so they may have a safe enjoyable time in Kilrany.

Kilrany Foreign Affairs Minister
Pavel Kasatikin

OOC: Plovdiv is a very large and old port city dating back to the first hundred years of the Roman occupation, which is when it was founded. The exact date of its founding was lost when records were destroyed during the many years of civil war following the withdrawal of Roman forces (in truth I just never set a date and this excuse has historical merit for Kilrany). It’s a mix of historical structures and modern high rises, with the older parts of the city near the center.

Due to several years of government subsidies most of the population drive electrically powered vehicles, including public transport, though military vehicles, which include those used by the ISM, still use fossil fuels. This is true throughout the nation.

While the city itself is not a military port, it is often used as a liberty port for other nations of the SFR who are allies of the Kilrany Empire, such as Russkya and Spazjenia, so the city is not unused to shore leave from navy vessels. Several Kilrany frigates are regularly on patrol closer in to the port as well. Additionally the port also sees heavy commercial traffic, it will be common to see freighters and container ships docked.

That’s about all I can think of importance just now, if there’s anything else you’d like to know just ask.

Onboard the Dauntless
Conference Room A

Three days after the first message to the carrier group they saw the coast of Kilrany in the distance. This prompted cheers from some of the younger seamen who hadn’t been ashore in almost three months. The one thought echoing through all their minds, shore leave!

Admiral Hall had just finished briefing all the senior officers in the carrier group over a secure videoconference system. The main object of the briefing had been, “the correct attitudes that the men and women of the Diggledom Navy in a foreign country.” Basically meaning best behaviour all the time and no excessive drinking. The admiral sighed, he knew as well as any that whenever sailors went on shore leave they were likely to get drunk and chase any girls available. He had already briefed the Naval police about what they would be doing during the shore leave. They had all been loaded onto Fearless and were going to be the first to arrive at Plovdiv.


-----


Onboard the Fearless
Main Deck

The ship had just berthed at the harbour; the boarding planks were lowered and the contingent of Naval police was disembarking. Captain Adam Lynch was the first Diggleonian to ever walk on Kilrany soil, or more accurately, concrete, being in the harbour still. He looked around and saw a pair of armoured vehicles surrounded by figures. Probably the welcoming committee he assumed. He gestured for the rest of the men to form up and walked towards the group of people, adjusting his beret for the perfect fit on the way.

While it was true that the Kilrany ISM had access to light armour; in the form of navy blue painted BTR-80s equipped with high angle thirty millimeter autocannons and a coaxial medium machine gun, they still used more conventional police cars for typical patrolling purposes. A pair of said police cars also made up the ‘greeting party’ alongside a pair of BTR-80s, there were close to sixteen armed ISM officers present.

While somewhat menacing in their appearance, wearing noticeable body armour, ballistic helmets and armed with submachine guns and assault rifles, they greeted the Diggledom shore party warmly. One officer in particular took a step forward, a young woman, she carried her ballistic helmet under her right arm, and her Blackthorn semi-automatic, magazine fed combat shotgun, rested by its sling on her back. She was chosen to speak primarily because she was a prime example for the Diggledom sailors for what to expect when they met a Kilrany woman, though it had never been their intention, through their own somewhat xenophobic behavior, few knew of Kilrany history and culture outside of a few nations in the SFR. Although average in height, she had a strong physical build, which was typical of Kilrany women who were expected to be capable of doing anything a man could, including serve in the military, this had been a long standing cultural quirk in Kilrany ever since resistance groups found themselves lacking in manpower during the Roman occupation. While it seemed unusual to most foreign nations, it was simple the normal way of life for the Kilrany.

In what would no doubt be the first of many such addresses, she spoke loudly and clearly so she could be heard among the group, a smile was playing across her face, “Good afternoon gentlemen. We wont keep you long, so you’ll get to have your fun soon enough. There are only a few things you should know before you leave this dock.”

She paused for a moment to take a breath before continuing, “First and foremost, under Kilrany law any ISM officer, at any time may stop you and search your person if they have reason to believe you may be carrying contraband material,” she paused a moment given them a knowing glance, but she continued to smile, “Of course by that I mean illicit drugs and the like.”

She wasn’t terribly concerned that the sailors were actually carrying anything illegal on their person, but she had been ordered to make sure they knew about all the important laws, and she would do so regardless.

“Also of importance, little known to those outside Kilrany, we have something we refer to as the ‘challenge’ here. Usually used as a means to resolve differences between two people who couldn’t otherwise resolve the situation peacefully, it can however also be brought forth if someone insults another person. Under Kilrany law, if accepted, whether a foreign national or not, you are bound to participate in the challenge. Challenges vary in severity and must be conducted under ISM observation, they range from first solid blow landed, first knocked down, first to yield, and to the death.”

She grinned a little before continuing, “Though to be fair, that last bit is quite rare. Additionally weapons can vary from simple unarmed combat to staves, bokken, knives and swords. I tell you this because we have occasionally had difficulties where a foreign national unintentionally insulted a local, or a local just decided to have a little fun with a visitor, and they ended up having to take part in a challenge.”

She paused for a moment to let the Diggledom personnel take in the information before she continued again, “One last thing and you can all go and enjoy your leave. If you see a person dressed in a black uniform with dark, almost ceremonial looking body armour with a ballistic helmet and carrying a sheathed sword on their back, I highly recommend you stay out of their way. That being said, enjoy your stay here in Plovdiv.”

"Alright lads, you heard the lady, you get to go an investigate the town. Make sure you know where most of the bars are and note down any that you don't want the guys going into. Clear?"

The formation of men all snapped to attention and shouted with one voice,
"YES SIR!"

Adam grinned and shook his head indicating he dismissed them. He watched as they broke up into twos and headed into the town for a quick look around before any other Diggledom forces arrived. When they had all started to move to the exit of the docks he approached the young officer who had addressed the men.

"Hello Ma'am I'm Captain Lynch. I have a few questions for you if you wouldn't mind?" Taking her silence for an assent he continued, "I was wondering about the weapons laws in Kilrany, normally my men are issued with tasers and a D-PDW-4, essentially a submarchine gun. Would it be acceptable for us to continue carrying them in the town? I was also wondering if you knew of any bars that it might be better for our men to consider off-limits?" He smiled as he waited for her response.

The young officer listened carefully to the Diggledom question, then considered her answers before replying, “Well, I can’t think of any bars or establishments that could be considered off limits, we get fairly regular visits from a few of our allies also stopping for shore leave, so most people here are used to the odd shore party.”

“As for your weapons, well, I can tell you that your tasers wont be considered a problem, our law allows people to carry light weapons such as tasers, knives and nine millimeter semi-automatic pistols on their person. However automatic weapons are highly restricted, normally only firing ranges and private security companies can obtain permits for them.”

She thought about it for a moment then raised her right hand, signaling for the Captain to wait a moment as she activated her radio with her left hand, “Dispatch this is SD-two-five, the MPs from the new arrivals would like to know if they can carry their service weapons with them, submachine guns.”

“Stand by two-five.”

“Copy that Dispatch.”

She looked back at the Captain and couldn’t help a smile as she spoke, “I’d say submachine guns seem a little overkill for shore duty security Captain, but considering I’m carrying a combat shotgun, I really shouldn’t say much.”

A moment later her radio came to life, “Two-five, the MPs are hereby authorized to carry their weapons, however inform them that they will need to keep them in plain sight. Additionally, please give me a description of their MP’s uniforms, an update will be sent out to all on-duty ISM officers so there wont be any misunderstandings.”

She shrugged slightly; with the Captain right next to her he could obviously hear the message, so she gave him a quick knowing smile, sure that he knew what he needed then activated her radio, sending a rather detailed description of the uniforms of the Diggledom MPs. When she finished however she looked back at the Captain, “Was there anything you needed to know?”

OOC: Important notice, the Novajev map in my opening post has been updated with a more detailed version, the map and territory there in remains the same, but I have been able to include the locations of small forest, additionally, they are not the sole location of trees on the island, they are merely the locations where the trees are so thick as to prevent vehicular traffic, except in locations where a road is indicated as cutting through them.

Additionally, all black numbers represent height in meters over sea level and each grid square still represents two square kilomters.

Additionally, while in this map the communities of Barmakov and Kislovodsk appear to be small, the area of the coast between them is the location of the primary commercial port for Novajev, so they are larger then they appear.

*EDIT*

It has come to my attention that photobucket has resized the much larger image file to a point where town names and height marks are unreadable; as such I have placed the image in an alternate location for better viewing.
Detailed map of Novajev (http://www.freewebs.com/wolfswebsite/Novajev%20-%20Compolation%20Image.JPG)

The comm officers were busy turning dials and tap-tapping away at keyboards searching through short-wave and broadband signals to find the one that the Kilrany's were using for non-secure channels. As the Kilrany surface crews were also searching frantically for the small battle group's band it was inevitable that they would eventually pick the same signal. "Ma'am! We have located a Kilrany signal. Its coming from a military base and seems directed at us, however its pretty garbled because of the storm."
"Good job soldier." she offered him a salute as a kind of reward, "Broadcast on this band and try to reach the Kilrany fleet. You, work on the incoming and try to get a clear message."
"Yes ma'am!" both comm officers stated and went to work.

Message sent for the Kilrany Fleet: Non-secure

This is the Wasp battlegroup under the command of Admiral Mellissa Heart. We are attempting to reach any Kilrany fleets within the ares. We are required by our government to seek permission to stand by and observe the situation unraveling in Novajev.

OOC:

Sorry guys, just got in from cadets and am absolutely shattered, will post again in the morning. Just wanted to let you know I ain't ignoring you.

Tysentralnoye Morye

Below the surface, the shrouded propellors of the HMS Clement continued to push the Oceanian submarine quietly on a north north-east track. Under the blue lights imposed to simulate evening, the watch officer kept silent noting the few changes in water density, currents, and even distant contacts. Above him, he watched the digital numbers steadily increase until he heard the familiar fall of shoes upon the corrugated deck plates.

"Lieutenant, you are relieved."

"Aye, captain, you have the conn."

Moore walked over to the lieutenant and placed his hand upon the young man's shoulder. It had been the lieutenant's first duty watch, having just passed the qualifier the week before. "How was it, Lieutenant?"

"Very good, sir. Maintaining course and speed, adjusted depth to keep us below the layer, and we are still trailing the towed array above the layer, keeping a watch on slow merchants and a few distant ships--nothing serious."

"Good work, you stand relieved, get some sleep."

"Aye, sir."

The captain watched the officer walk out of Operations, presumably to his bunk, but truthfully, Moore did not really care. So long as his officers, and his ratings for that matter, executed their duties in a prompt and proper fashion, what they did off watch was their business. He took a short walk over to the plotting table, familiarising himself with the changes from several hours ago. Nothing much. Unlike the Strait, the waters here, while busy, were far less congested. Fewer stray contacts meant fewer potential threats, but also fewer ships to cover the sound of his engine plant and propulsor.

Over the past 36 hours, the submarine had risen to comm depth to receive updates and orders, especially in relation to Rodney's query, and had all the while been making slow progress towards the eastern seaboard of Novajev. However, at ten knots, it would still take some time before he reached a region safe and devoid of contacts to release his cargo.

"Seaman," Moore called out to a rating who had been looking in Moore's general direction.

"Yes, sir?"

"Please bring Captain Rodney to Operations, I need to have a word with him."

"Aye, captain."

Aft of Operations, a diminutive brown-haired man flipped through pages of a small pocket-sized book. His thumbs found a certain spread, his eyes sweeping across a few lines, and then his thumbs continued their slow, methodical flip. Leaning awkwardly against his leg, his rifle kept the man company as he sat apart from the other four men bragging about their latest conquests.

"Not interested, Mirek" a coldly inquisitive Rodney intruded, stirring the shorter man to look up from his book.

"Nyet," the man replied. Unlike his comrades, Miroslav Cižek did not hail from Anglo Oceania, but rather the subjugated territory of Novikov. It was a distinctly Slavic enclave, albeit a large one, of the United Kingdom. Much of the population did not speak English, even as a second language. Those that did, like Cižek, were among the first of the former Novikovian armed forces to integrate into the Oceanian armed forces.

"I understand," Rodney added, his tone of voice softening. He had seen no direct ostracism of Cižek in his time with the unit; however, apart from the poker games and the training, the Novikovian tended to himself. Both men, indeed, the whole unit, knew why they had been tapped for the mission. Cižek was a linguistics expert in addition to his proficiency with firearms. Coupled with his native backing in Slavic languages, it was hoped he would be the most 'at home' member of the unit once ashore in Novajev.

Before Rodney could ask the Novikovian to put down his dictionary and pick up the banter of his colleagues, the same seaman from Operations found his way to the compartment the unit called home. "Captain Rodney, the Captain... I mean, Captain Moore, sir, has requested your presence in Operations."

The veteran smiled, and allowed himself a slight laugh at the expense of the now nervous rating, surrounded no longer by dolphins but assault rifles, grenades and other weapons used to kill men far more personally than that to which the submariner was accustomed. Rodney reveled in the feeling for a brief moment. "Fear not, son, we are both captains." He then swept his arm forward to signal the rating to lead him to Operations.

Leaning up against the plotting table, Moore barely heard Rodney enter Operations through his focus on the local geography. Eventually, however, he noticed the shadow cast across all of Novajev, drawing a humoured grin from the submariner. "Good evening, Captain, we received word from the Admiralty and they have acquiesced to your request for landing operations to take place here, between Bitarjev and Saprovo, just east of Chilkov."

Rodney smiled at Moore's diction, knowing that the Admiralty had likely fumed over the change of plans. Instantaneous communications had transformed the world of armed conflict, commanders like himself and Moore now often needed to check with their political masters snuggled in the warm comforts of Georgetown before firing a shot. Novajev was, apparently, to be no different.

According to the maps provided by ORNI, Office of Royal Navy Intelligence, the land between Chilkov and Bitarjev appeared to be lowlands flanked by the sea, to be Rodney's route of ingress, and thickly forested hills. A single arterial route providing the main exit out of Bitarjev and into the rest of Novajev. Rodney suspected it to be heavily guarded, meaning rife with information, and lastly, if necessary, susceptible to the limited strike capacity of his men and the Clement should the situation deteriorate.

"How long, sir," Rodney asked quietly.

Moore nodded and looked quickly up at the digital time display and then down at the table to find the submarine's coordinates. In his head he roughed a few calculations and looked over at the suddenly very serious faced Rodney. "Figure another two hours or so on present course, at which time we intercept what seems to be a major east-west shipping lane, and then another twenty or so until we reach a suitable location to allow you and your men to exit."

Rodney nodded quietly. One more day. He knew submarines well enough from having ridden aboard them for numerous infiltration missions. Moore was protecting his crew; the C-class could run upwards of twenty knots before generally becoming detectable. Rodney doubted that the naval officer knew of his familiarity with submarines, but he decided not to press the submariner. At ten knots, it would take far longer to reach Novajev, but it was accordingly far likelier that the Clement would reach its objective un-noticed, of perhaps greater importance to his mission.

HMNB Devonport, United Kingdom

Underneath the cover of darkness, shipping crates were swung overhead by giant cranes and dropped deep within the holds of Royal Fleet Auxiliary replenishment ships while along several piers, mobile lifts hoisted up pre-packed vertical launch cells off of their pallets, placing them carefully inside the launch systems of various frigates, dreadnoughts and cruisers. At the main gate, sentries took note of the numbers of personnel reporting back from shore leave ahead of schedule, most of them assigned to but a few surface ships and submarines.

It would take nearly eighteen hours, but eventually, some thirty-seven ships would leave the well defended waters of Huxley Bay, then the Bay of Brittany before heading out into the open waters of the Pacific where they would rendezvous with eight other ships. In total, some 45 ships would begin their silent steaming towards the waters of the Socialist Federative Republics, a trip that would take at least nine days at the fleet's steaming speed.

OOC: Very impressive post Azazia.

Admiral Renatus grumbled under her breath as she walked down the passageway that led to the Fiery Dawn’s CIC, she was just about to call it a night in her quarters when the on duty officer in the CIC called her down. As she approached the entryway that led into the CIC one of the four fully armed and equipped Naval Infantrymen greeted her as she also forced back a yawn.

“Evening ma’am.”

As she passed the infantryman on her way into the CIC she gave him an acknowledging nod of her head and a quiet word, “Corporal.”

Once again back in the CIC she walked directly over towards the communications station, “So what is it you needed be back down here for Petty Officer?”

The crewman half turned as he replied, “We’ve picked up a signal on an open frequency from another task force entering the area ma’am. Claims to be the ‘Wasp Battlegroup’ under the command of one Admiral Mellissa Hart with orders from their government to monitor the situation on Novajev.”

She raised and eyebrow, “What nation did they say they were from?”

“Well … they didn’t actually.”

“Right … so has Fleet Command said anything about them yet?”

“Just that they were working on contacting them, apparently they’re feeling generous this week and are going to let them take up station without any difficulty.”

“Rare indeed. Probably just trying to keep this from turning into some sort of major international incident I’m sure. In any case, you could have told me this over the intercom.”

“Sorry ma’am.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

With nothing else she could do she turned to leave, however she quickly stopped when she saw ‘The Major’ as the man had been come to be known entering the CIC. He was the 5th Division intelligence officer assigned to the fleet for this operation. Only the man’s green eyes could be seen due to standard all black, somewhat ceremonial uniform worn by all 5th Division operatives while they weren’t in an active combat zone, he even still wore the sheathed sword on his back.

Sighting the Admiral in turn, he addressed her as he moved towards the central display and despite the seemingly friendly words, his tone was indifferent, “Oh good you’re here Admiral. I have an intelligence update for you.”

The Major didn’t stop to await her reply, he merely walked straight to the center of the room and typed in a series of commands on the dormant display, which snapped to life with a composite topographical map of Novajev, which included major and minor roads. He then waited patiently for her to finally come up towards the display herself a moment later.

“While the storm that hit us yesterday is finally passing away to the Southeast and we have relatively calm waters again, our satellites have only managed to maintain intermittent visual contact on the island due to trailing overcast. It’s been making it difficult to monitor Novajev properly. For example, yesterday we lost visual contact on the primary Novajev port while they were offloading large numbers of heavy vehicles, we only got a track on a number of SAM systems. But I digress Admiral, continued satellite surveillance indicates that the mercenary forces are building several facilities to serve as long term bases, they’ve got heavy equipment in there and they appear to be setting them up with bunkers, watchtowers, barbwire and heavy chain link fences, looks like they’re working overtime to get them set up.”

“The largest of these are here, and here,” he paused a moment to point at two locations on the island, the first a large portion of open ground East of Kalash and South of Chilkov on the East side of the island, the second location another large open piece of ground East of Barmakov and North of Kislovodsk between two points marked as fifty-four and fifty-five on the West side of the island.

“From the two battalions they landed two days ago, they appear to have split the island into two zones of control, simply East and West, this river of sorts and the village of Volkova appear to mark the ‘border’ of their zones. These two bases appear to be for the purposes of garrisoning the bulk of their troops for either battalion. However they also appear to be creating several smaller facilities, large enough to hold two platoons worth of men and equipment near Malyshev, Volkova, Skitkova, Klishnev and Travoro. We believe these smaller bases will be for rapid reaction teams.”

The intelligence officer paused a moment to take a breath, “Now the facility here at Travoro however is a little large, as it appears to be built on the small airfield itself. Normally it was only used for light aircraft, but they’ve commandeered it and appear to be using it as a chopper base, we’ve already confirmed the presence of a half dozen MI-17s, one Mi-26, two Hinds and at least a company worth of men.”

“We’ve also noted something else,” he then pointed to a location just West of Bilikov and East of point four-nine-one, “They appear to have established a fire base here, we’ve noted numerous gun pits for mortars and howitzers, analysts think they heavy guns are of the one fifty-two caliber. From this point their guns can reach pretty much anywhere on the island.”

“Fantastic,” Renatus sighed lightly, though she was less worried about the artillery installation as she was about other more potentially dangerous items. She took a moment to soak it all in before she spoke again, “What of Special Forces teams, has Fifth landed any yet?”

The 5th Division officer merely shook his head, “Not at this time. It was decided that their presence might simply worsen the situation should they be forced to engage the military forces on the island. It is the Emperor’s wish that we not appear to back them into a corner. We still don’t know what all they have available to them yet, the possible weapons they could have bought from the Republican forces in the FLRJ are endless and could be very extremely dangerous.”

He had voiced her own concerns about the forces on Novajev; in reply she nodded her head slightly, “Indeed.”

-----

Several hundred kilometers away from the Kilrany task force holding station off Novajev, a Kilrany Lieutenant Commander was attempting to raise the fleet from SaintB from a command bunker located near the heart of the massive Trinaga naval facilities on the Southeast of Kilrany through a relay station off the East coast, somewhere near the city of Plovdiv. Trinaga was the single largest naval port and military shipyard in the entire Kilrany Empire, and was responsible of the construction of over half of the Kilrany naval vessels currently in service within the Kilrany Imperial Navy.

“This is Kilrany Fleet Command attempting to contact taskforce Wasp, your request to observe the situation currently ongoing on the island of Novajev has been authorized, Kilrany naval vessels will not hinder your movements. Safe sailing Admiral Heart.”

Oblivious to the HMS Clement that was also following a course to Novajev, the Iriani submarine continued its roundabout course. Only a half hour earlier the old attack submarine had lost the cover of the supertanker it had been sailing under as they exited the Zuiderzee Strait into the Tsyentralnoye Morye, it had turned off East towards a Northern Me’I port, thus leaving the skeleton crew of the vessel to venture out North on there own.

As the most senior officer of the Iriani to volunteer for the mission, Karl Hensel was the ‘captain’ of the old attack submarine, even though he only held the rank of Korvettenkapitän in the Iriani navy, then again technically on this mission none of the small crew had any rank. They didn’t even get to wear their proper uniforms; instead they had been provided suitable attire that they could wear and use in the submarine that couldn’t be traced back to the Iriani Republic. He may have been Captain of the submarine, but he wasn’t the commander of the mission, that task fell to the man who stood across from him.

Karl didn’t know exactly who he was, he went by the name of Paul, and Karl suspected he was a member of the Iriani Naval Intelligence service, but couldn’t be sure.

“At our current speed how much longer until we reach waypoint hotel?”

Karl sighed slightly, ‘Paul’ had apparently never spent much time in a submarine and didn’t understand the difficulties in operating one, especially with an under strength crew, but he had little choice but be patient with the man.

“Another twenty hours, then we turn West and head towards waypoint India, at our current speed that will take us another thirty hours after that to reach Juliet, which will put us a mere hour from Kilo.”

“Good, just barely over another two days and we’ll be in position. Ideally on schedule”

Karl saw a smile come across Paul’s face, he knew the man despised the Kilrany, even more then he did, but that wasn’t terribly hard, Karl mainly blamed the Russkyans for the humiliating surrender in the FLRJ, but he was just as happy to take revenge on the Kilrany given their involvement.

Good evening, this is Jack Harper with more on the developing story in Novajev. The Cripistonian military has informed that they plan on circling around the Morye, and landing on the northern part of the island without any confrontation with Novajevian rebels for the time being. Top Cripistonian military officials say there is no sure time period to when the troops could be brought home, or if more will be sent. This is Jack Harper, channel 5 news goodnight.

Orbath wasn't usually a nation to get involved in the affairs of other nations. Recently, they have tried to become more friendly and show themselves on the world stage. This coup that was occurring presented a problem to Orbath. A total of ten businessmen were currently in Novajev. Thankfully they were all in the same place, so there rescue would be an easy one. This was also a chance for the Orbathian military to get some combat experience, something they hadn't had yet. The government decided to keep the operation semi secret. The public didn't need to know what was going on yet.

6 Hours Later

Various units had been informed and had readied. Their kit had been packed and the planes loaded and fueled. One by one they boarded the plane, to begin a long flight to Novajev.

The troops would be jumping at 6, I. They were ordered to secure an area an advance on the nearby town of (Insert name of a town where business men might be) . The business men had been contacted and ordered to remain at their hotel until the soldiers arrived. They had a few hours of peace before they would be jumping into the unknown.


OOC: I just need to know the name of a town in that general area that my civilians could be.

"What! How could this happen?!" yelled Cripistonian Captain Ryan Goddard. He had just learned of tragic news. In th town of Travoro (most northwest city) his troops had opened fire, on what were though to be rebels. They turned uot to be buisness men of the nation Orbath. The captain had recently talked about the event in a pree confrence, this is what he had to say. " We are deeply sorry to the families of these 4 men, and would also like to give our prays of the entire nation of Orbath." The president of Cripistan, Caleb Vans, would like to meet with the President of Orbath to have a meeting. We have yet to hear anything from any of Orbath's officials.


(Orbath:I hope you dont mind i used your nation.)

OOC: *Sigh* This is what I get for having to go to work yesterday and missing the goings on here.

Cripistan, if you wish to participate in this RP you’re going to have to follow some of the basic etiquette, I have no desire to be rude, but if you can’t do that we’ll simply have to go on without you. Without having ever had diplomatic relations previously, you have declared that you’re and ally of the Kilrany Empire, and without RPing the landing of your forces; who would have come under heavy fire from both the Novajev navy and the mercenary army, have attacked and killed foreign civilians whose location on the island hasn’t even been confirmed yet. And while not bad etiquette, you have chosen to ignore the map and land your forces on a portion of the island which rises straight up out of the water over a hundred meters, as indicated by the map. Now the Northwest would have actually given you a beach, but you’d be no where near Travoro and already be under a counter-attack from the ground forces, assuming your lone transport ships got past the Novajev fleet unharmed, which would be highly unlikely.

This is an open RP and anyone is allowed to participate, but I will not have poor RPing here. Orbath, you are welcome to participate, and the likely location for your people would be in is the town of Khabarovsk, as one of the largest one the island it tends to host wealthier clientele. Though I would highly recommend against trying to Para in and forces, as I’ve stated on three separate occasions they have established early warning radar positions and have in their possession numerous medium and short range air defense units.

At this time I don’t have a proper IC post to go up, so I would ask those who are still participating in this thread to continue and I will either get a post up to continue to the story eventually, or will respond to another’s post accordingly.

Plovdiv Docks

“I can’t think of any other questions at the moment. We were told we should set up a liaison officer with you if possible to iron out any little problems that emerge. If that is okay with you then we can send a couple of the guys over to your headquarters?” He paused for a second, trying to think of anything he had forgotten. “Well, I am not on duty tonight and was wondering if you could show me around the town? It would be interesting to talk to someone from around here and I would like to know more about the Kilrany firsthand, it would be a good experience.” He smiled as he waited for his answer.

-----

Plovdiv Town Centre

“With the currency exchange as it is these drinks work out at about half price man! We will have to get some down us soon!” Durant, one of the naval police ratings asked his friend as they walked down one of the pavements in the centre of the city. They attracted a few odd looks, they were wearing the standard Diggledom military police uniform; red berets, black combat shirts with their names in white above the left breast pocket and their unit designation above the right, a black belt with a nightstick attached at the right hip, black combat trousers and bulled combat boots. They might have looked slightly intimidating if it weren’t for the looks of awe on their faces as they looked around the town. Neither of them had ever been away from Diggledom or the peninsula before.

“Cheap drinks just means that the rest of the guys will get more down them before they return to the ships, or collapse in the gutters.”

“Oh come on Han, haven’t you got poetry in your soul?” Durant asked, laughing.

Hannah Reilly looked at him and rolled her eyes, trying to smother a grin, “C’mon you idiot, when we finish this patrol we can report back then you can go and sample the local drinks.”

“What? Aren’t you coming?” Durant asked, crestfallen at the idea of his partner leaving him.

“Mark is arriving tonight with the rest of his ship. I promised we would meet up, I hardly see enough of him as it is.” Durant’s face dropped at the thought of having to leave his partner with her boyfriend and explore on his own.

“Oh wait, is that girl still on his crew? Emma?” Hannah rolled her eyes and nodded.

“I might come along with you and see what is happening then.” Durant smiled and started to skip down the road in front of Hannah. She rolled her eyes again before speeding up so she kept up with him.

-----

Imperial Council Chambers, Diggledom

The chamber echoed as voices sought to drown each other out. Each speaker was arguing with all the others. The room was filled with the command staff of the each of the four Diggledom military branches, the army, the navy, the air force and the special forces. The only people that weren’t wearing military uniforms was the emperor himself and the delegation from the recently opened Diggledom foreign office, three people out of a total of nearly forty five.

The emperor had originally asked for a plan for the evacuation of the Diggledom citizens from the island. This meeting had been to serve as a forum for all the heads of the forces to put forwards their ideas in a simple informal setting. It was, emperor Maximillian reflected, a mistake. All that had happened was each of the forces had produced a plan that relied almost entirely on their own units while leaving little if anything to the other service branches. He rubbed his eyes and sighed before leaning forwards to speak,

“Everyone quiet.” He waited until silence filled the chamber, “We have several hundred Diggledom citizens in the middle of a tense and potentially lethal situation and all you can do is argue? All the submitted plans are, to put non to fine a point on it, absolutely rubbish. Work together to sort this out. I expect a pair of fully written plans to be on my desk within the next twelve hours detailing suggested methods for evacuating the citizens, one using covert methods and one using any overt force you believe necessary. Do you all understand?” He looked around at all the nodding figures, “Good.” He turned to the Naval contingent, “Tell the admiral of the Dauntless that satellite feed should be available within an hour, the satellite is being moved at the present. I want him to set up a perimeter around the island to alert us to any one trying to land forces in the area. I just want to know, he shouldn’t open fire unless necessary, we don’t want an international incident.” He looked towards the two people from the foreign office, “Amanda, can I have a word with you outside please?” He looked back at the rest of the military figures, “Those reports, my desk, twelve hours, no excuses.” He stood up and walked through the doors which were opened by a pair of secret service men.

Amanda followed the emperor out of the chamber, following until he reached his personal office. He keyed a code into the keypad by the door and sat down behind his desk. He lowered his face into his hands and muttered something to quietly for her to hear. Suddenly she realised how normal he looked, short blonde hair, medium height, medium build, blue eyes and a slightly bent nose, never properly set after being broken once. She suddenly felt a wave of warmth for the man who was commanding a constantly growing nation, one that had only recently opened it’s borders before this accident had befallen it.

The emperor looked up and rolled his head, eliciting a loud cracking noise from the bones in his neck. Amanda winced.

“Oh, sorry, bad habit I know. Anyway I would like you to send another message to the Kilrany government explaining our plans. It should read something like…”

-------

Diplomatic Communiqué

To: Pavel Kasatikin
From: Amanda Ethridge

Message:
The emperor himself has instructed me to inform you that plans have been formed to remove all Diggledom citizens from the island. If you wish we could launch a joint covert operation to ensure our citizens safety and if not we are asking if you will look unfavourably on the landing of special forces for the purposes of the evacuation of the Diggledom citizens from the island. Their location had been discovered and they are all being gathered together by one of the tourists, an army veteran on the island.

OOC: Man do I know that feeling, bloody tired myself but I’m going to do my best to respond. Additionally if I get anything wrong here, my bad, but the second to last post you made kind of just appeared out of nowhere a little farther back in the thread without warning, the one the forum says you posted at 8:20 yesterday which appeared to me after I had posted my OOC message to Cripistan and Orbath today. Man my description of 5th sucks today as well.

The young female ISM officer listened carefully to the questions posed to her by the MP Captain in front of her and she carefully considered her response, a somewhat apologetic look coming across her face, “If you have any additional questions that might come up, you can ask any ISM officer you happen to see, though I’m afraid you wont be able to send any liaison officers down our central dispatch, that’s beyond what I can help you with. Non-ISM personnel are not permitted inside, with the only exception being soldiers of the Imperial Guard.”

Her facial expression chanced quickly though to his last question, taking on a sly smile she shook her head slightly, “Sorry Captain Lynch, I’m afraid I’m on duty here for quite some time, need to give that same speech to the rest of your shore parties for a few more hours.”

-----

While the Kilrany people in general were distrusting of strangers, they were still a fairly curious lot, and the sight of the Diggledom Military Police walking through their streets drew their gaze and stirred up quiet conversations. Despite the awe shown by a particular pair of these foreign officers, it would have been hard for the average citizen to feel intimidated, as a people they were used to a heavy police presence in the form of the ISM, even the standard foot patrols conducted by ISM officers were in force, moving about in three man teams, no ISM officer ever conducted an assigned patrol alone.

To add to that, no foreign organization was capable of competing with the sheer cultural effect that the Imperial Guard’s 5th Division had on the population. A very secretive organization, even other Divisions of the Imperial Guard new little about them, they even predated the very existence of the Kilrany Empire, having originally been formed during the Roman Occupation under another name.

While the organization had many sections to it, each with their own responsibilities, only one in particular would be of consequence to the shore parties from Diggledom, that being their internal security teams, five of which had been deployed to Plovdiv upon advising the Emperor that there would be no difficulties in granting shore leave to the foreign forces. Each team was comprised of four operatives, each one wore the standard, semi-ceremonial, in-country black uniform and armour of 5th Division, lightweight it covered several sections of the body, almost a contrast to their body armour, they wore black ballistic helmets, their faces always concealed by a black balaclavas. Although they carried firearms, which could cover every end of the spectrum of small arms depending on their assignment, while wearing their in-country uniforms they also carried a slightly curved sword on their back along with a Kilrany long Knife in a sheath on their lower right leg.

One such team coincidentally drove past Reilly and Durant in a black armoured car, outwardly the vehicle looked a great deal like the British Panther light armoured car, it was equipped with remotely controlled overhead weapons mount; a short barreled 30mm autocannon which looked much like the one installed upon the MI-28 Havoc. As it passed them by it pulled off to the side of the street, depositing two soldiers who exited from the back doors and drove off, letting the two 5th Division operatives proceed on foot. They barely gave the two MP’s a second glance before they walked off down the sidewalk on nothing more then a simple patrol.

-----

Due to an unexpected delay, Kasatikin received both diplomatic message from Diggledom at about the same time and rather then compose two separate replies, he decided to combine a response to both in one message.

Sealed Diplomatic Communication

To: Amanda Ethbrige

My apologies to you for the delay in my response to your communiqués, there were some unexpected problems that I won’t go into here.

We appreciate your notifying us of your intent, while at this time I’ve been told we’re not going to be taking any direct action, it has been mentioned that this is dependant on the situation on Novajev. At this time the forces employed by those behind the coup, appear to be treating the civilians well, we are attempting to get a hold of someone in charge to see to it that those foreign nationals currently trapped on the island be allowed to leave, though we haven’t had much success getting through at this time, most communications with the island are still cut off by the ground forces.

I understand your desire to see to the safety of your people, but we hope you will not act to soon, our hope at this time is that the situation will calm down on the island soon enough that regular sea and air traffic may resume and we can safely evacuate everyone. Though obviously if this doesn’t happen, we will have to go in and get them, if this becomes the case, we will not hinder your operations.

Kilrany foreign affairs minister
Pavel Kasatikin

Plovdiv Docks

“The rest of the ships won’t be arriving for another couple of hours. Could I at least buy you a drink to talk over? A non-alcoholic one?” Adam smiled, giving up all pretence.

------

Plovdiv Town centre

“They looked serious.” Chris said to Emma, nodding towards the retreating backs of the two 5th division operatives walking down the road away from them, “Wonder who they are. Look a bit heavily armed for normal police activities.”

“I don’t know, maybe they are doing a bust or something? Who cares?”

“Suppose, still, it would be good to see them in action don’t you think?”

“Have you ever actually been in action Chris?” Emma asked, a dark look crossing her face.

“Yeah! I was involved with some of the border disputes with the Venistanians around the isles back home.”

“Well, then you know enough to realise that action is the last thing anyone should be looking forwards to.” The vehemence in her tone more than her words caused Adam to fall silent.

“Sorry Em.”

“No problem you fool, lets see if we can get a drink here, it is about time to stop patrolling and I am sure captain Lynch won’t mind just one.” A jovial tone replaced the more serious one from a moment before.

The pair walked into one of the bars off the street, it took five minutes for them to communicate their desires to the barman, highlighting a slight problem with the language books, beverage and beer were confused, meaning if you asked for a beer you were likely to get served a pot of tea. The two bemused officers carried their beers, and their pot of tea, over to a table outside before sitting down to enjoy the local atmosphere.

------

Onboard the Dauntless

It was rare that Admiral Hall was intimidated by anyone that approached him but this was different. The man wasn’t overly tall or muscled, instead he exuded a kind of aura of concentrated menace. The feeling that he had killed before, he would kill again and that this thought didn’t bother him in the slightest. He was part of one of the special forces teams that had been onboard the carrier fleet when it was diverted, he had just entered the captain’s private office and started listing things he needed. What a list though! The admiral thought; unlimited access to the armoury, clearing the deck for weapons testing, transport helicopters, a flight of Cormorant carrier-based multi role fighters, it went on and on. Normally he would have refused but he had just received orders to give this man anything.

“Anything you want that I can reasonably obtain I will provide for you. My orders tell you to supply you with anything I can, so I have no choice in the matter. I would however wish for you to tell me what you will be doing with all this hardware.”

“You can wish all you want Admiral, at the moment all the missions are in the planning stages. Suffice to say once the mission is underway you will see exactly what we are doing, just follow the explosions.” The man smiled, a sinister look crossing his face.

-----

Diplomatic Communiqué

To: Pavel Kasatikin
From: Amanda Ethridge

Message:
For your information the two troopships will be arriving in three (3) days, with an escort. They contain a single infantry regiment, it’s vehicles and supplies for the same. Our satellite analysts have identified several enemy vehicles and air defences. Is your government prepared to tell us any more about the forces we may be facing? It is likely that you will have better first hand knowledge than we do and any other information would be appreciated.


OOC:
I was wondering what kind of equipment the rebels were using? Is it defined apart from the BMP-2’s or is it up for grabs? Cheers

OOC: My nation is landlocked and I want to try Rping a nation with out a Navy.

IC:

'' H.Q., this is Echo Foxtrot One, about to enter hostile airspace over.''

'' Roger that, proceed with caution, maintain radio silence until you reach the DZ, out.''

As the planes entered hostile airspace, each pilot checked their map. Using satellite photos, they had plotted a route that would take them through a less hostile area. They hoped they would be able to land troops without casualties. Back home, various units had been put on standby and would be able to deploy within four hours.

The planes continued, following the path... hoping and praying they would make it alive....

OOC: In regards to the equipment in use by the mercs, their equipment has been defined, I have simply chosen not to make it fully known in the RP yet, my reasoning was to encourage other nations to deploy SF teams to recon the island and discover the details that could easily be overlooked by satellite imagery, or hidden from the same.

On that note, I may have unintentionally given some the impression that I don’t want to you land an SF unit on the island due to an IC message, understand that this is not the case. In an attempt to make this more interesting, I’m trying to limit the involvement of the Kilrany Empire, simply put, if I wanted this over, I could bring against the island such an overwhelming force that I could literally cover the island in soldiers and equipment, but there’s no fun in that, heh. Add to this that the Kilrany Empire is heavily committed in stabilizing Khurzav, destabilizing Triari and preparing a military force to go to the aid of the Delesian Commonwealth in what appears to be a developing civil war right now, I figured this would be a low priority for the Empire, my excuse anyway, heh.

Addition, Orbath, I just noticed your post as I was finishing this one up, as it is now almost three am I don’t have the ability to add a proper reply to your post just now, I will do so when I wake up in the morning, I just wanted to let your know so you didn’t think I was ignoring you, since I have no problem with your choice.

The young officer had seen through Captain Lynch’s pretence pretty early, recognizing a come on when she saw one, at least as she saw it. She chuckled lightly at his latest attempt, “I’ll give you points for persistence Lynch,” she paused a moment to consider it, “They may be able to do without my presence here for a little while, but it’s not up to me, I’m not the ranking officer here.”

She half turned on the spot and called out to one of the groups of ISM officers just a little farther behind her, “Hey Sergeant! This fellow here would like a guided tour and a little extra information, says there’s not to be another shore party coming in for another few hours, permission to be excused for a short while.”

The ISM officer in question appeared to think about it from a moment, there was little different in his appearance from the other ISM officers beside his rank on his shoulder. Seconds later the officer gave a acknowledging nod of his head and a slight wave with his right hand, “You’ve got two hours Corporal, then be back here.”

“Yes sir,” she turned back to face Adam once again with a smile, “Well, looks like we have a little while to chat, my name is Maria by the way. If you’d like I know this excellent little bar about fifteen minutes walk from here.”

-----

It was not unusual for foreigners to have difficulty with the Kilrany language as it was far from standard, being a blending of Russian and Latin it was not the easiest language to learn, though far from the hardest. It had developed as a result of the five hundred years of Roman occupation. To help matters a little bit, due to the nature and requirements of living in the SFR, most citizens knew how to speak Russian and English decently enough to have a passable conversation, though this didn’t always help.

As the two Diggledom sailors, Chris and Emma took a seat, the Kilrany citizens around them gave them a few friendly nods of their head, their form of a pleasant wave in hello and of acknowledgement of their presence, for despite the suspicious nature of the Kilrany to foreigners, they usually retained a friendly demeanor so long as they weren’t disrespected, something they had sometimes found to be common from some of the nations who considered themselves more ‘civilized’ then the Kilrany.

Not far down the street, the two might have noticed that a pair of 5th Division soldiers had appeared, standing on the sidewalk they seemed to be casually talking to each other, they were in fact the same two operatives who had exited the vehicle in front of them earlier. Normally it was difficult to identify the operatives of 5th Division due to the anonymity of their uniforms, if the two were observant, or cared particularly enough to notice, they may have noticed that these two were of the same height and build as the two they saw earlier and made the connection. One of them stood at an average five foot nine, while the other stood at a towering six foot five, their helmets and boots giving them each an extra inch to their normal height.

While they both appeared to casually speak to each other in low tones so no one could hear the content of their little chat, the smaller of the two, given the codename Fang, due to his affinity for bladed weapons, watched the two sailors out of the corners of his eyes, which were concealed behind a pair of black protective goggles. The taller of the two, given the codename Bear due to his size and strength, casually surveyed the area and people around them, some of whom had noticed them and started to look a little nervous.

It was most fortunate for the two sailors that the operatives were only watching them out of curiosity, for the 5th Division Internal Operations teams were often called Kilrany death squads by misguided nations who thought of the Kilrany Empire as a backward society, it was a term that always amused 5th Division in its inaccuracy, but they often encouraged this view of them as it increased the fear other nations had of 5th. Though the term may not have been appropriate, 5th Division, unlike the ISM, had absolute authority to do whatever they thought was in the best interests of the Kilrany Empire, if someone vanished in the nation, chances are they had something to do with it.

Though this was always a difficult thing to discern, a major part of their method of keeping their secrets was misinformation, often while off duty and indistinguishable from the general population, their operatives would go into a bar or pub and during a conversation, talk about a ‘rumour’ they heard about the organization. Over the course of more then a millennia of this practice, stories of all sorts were ingrained in the psyche of the Kilrany people, ranging from the believable to the absurd with each telling the stories grew beyond what it initially was, with the people themselves adding to them, much to the satisfaction of 5th Division. To the Kilrany people, 5th Division had become a tangible myth, quietly watching over them, protecting them from threats from both outside and within the Kilrany Empire, doing whatever was required to maintain the safety and well being of the general population.

After a few more moments of watching them, the conversation between Fang and Bear abruptly ended and they both began walking in the general direction of the two sailors, with the smaller of the two leading the way. As they were about to pass the two seated outside, they came to a stop next to them and Fang addressed them in turn while Bear stood just behind Fang and to his right.

“Good evening ma’am, sir, are you two enjoying your stay here in Plovdiv?”

Fang’s pleasant and friendly tone contrasted sharply with the usually intimidating appearance of the 5th Division operatives, whose faces were always concealed. While these two in particular weren’t carrying a long arm, a holstered pistol was evident on their belts, along with pouches holding magazines and other equipment, along with the hilt of their sword plainly visible over their right shoulders.

-----

Sealed Diplomatic communication

To: Amanda Ethridge

I appreciate the timetable and information you have given us in regards to your deployment of forces, it is duly noted.

In regards to forces deployed on Novajev, at this time we have confirmed that they are using NATO designed small arms and infantry weapons, this would seem to include customized M4s, the FN Minimi and FN Mag; thought we have noted PKM general purpose machine guns in use by forces deployed in mechanized formations, this we believe is for ammunition commonality with their mechanized transports. We are unsure as to the extent of their anti-armour capabilities however, as so far we have only seen in their possession the M72 LAW, though we highly doubt this is the extent of their infantry portable anti-tank weapons.

Their vehicles appear to be made up of Soviet/Russian designs, we believe purchased from the FLRJ to the North. So far we have confirmed the presence of BTR-80s, BMP-2s, and several BTR-T heavy APCs. We have not been able to ascertain the exact number of these vehicles, nor have we been able to confirm or deny the presence of main battle tanks.

They appear to have at their disposal an also undetermined number of Tunguska close range and SA-17 ‘Grizzly’ medium range air defense units. We have also detected a total of three early warning radar stations, two appear to be of the P-37 type, the third only recently began sweeping the skies and appears to be a more mobile radar, as it intermittently shifts positions, we believe it to be an older, ‘Long Track’ radar system.

At this time, this is all the information we have on the equipment in use by the mercenary army on Novajev, however please understand that this information is compiled from satellite imagery, analysis of both photos taken on the island along with SIGINT data and finally the ‘best guess’ of our intelligence officers.

Kilrany Foreign Affairs Minister
Pavel Kasatikin

Plovdiv Docks

When Maria suggested leaving for a bar Adam immediately agreed, not only would he be out with an attractive girl but he would also get a chance to try the Kilrany he had been practising.

As they walked towards the town, Maria leading him through the streets, he began to ask questions,
“So I take it that the ISM is the Kilrany police force? How long have you been in the force?” The look of interest on his face was genuine; he had loads of time with an attractive woman in which he could ask questions, both about Kilrany in general and Maria in particular.

OOC: I say we just leave them to it. The main reason I tried to set this up is so that I had a plausible IC reason for knowing about Kilrany customs and the like. Up to you though.

-----

Plovdiv City Centre

Chris and Emma had politely returned the nods of the Kilrany citizens, thinking to themselves how polite they all appeared. They were talking quietly to each other in their native tongue, another non-typical mix of Celtic, English and Russian, when Emma noticed the two 5th division operatives further down the street. She mentioned it to Chris but since neither of them knew anything about the 5th division they didn’t pay much attention or try to keep them in eye-sight.

“Good evening ma’am, sir, are you enjoying your stay here in Plovdiv?” A voice said in perfect English. The two looked up in surprise, this was the first time they had been directly approached and addressed by a Kilrany citizen since the officer at the docks had given them their briefing. Chris’ grasp on English was better than Emma’s so he answered the two operatives, “Yeah, it seems great. It is a little different to back home of course, but everyone is friendly. It also has one very good thing going for it, it isn’t a ship!” He grinned up at the two operatives.

As he was speaking Emma finished her drink, she pointed at his glass and raised her eyebrows. He nodded while still speaking. She carefully arranged a sentence in her mind and when Chris stopped speaking she asked, “Would either of you gentlemen like a drink?”

-----

Deck of the Dauntless

The forward deck of the Dauntless had been cleared of planes; instead it was occupied by a single 8 man section of the Diggledom Marine Force Recon Battalion. The eight men were all practise firing their weapons, the deck echoed to the sound of their two D-MMG-4’s firing the 7.62x54mm rounds, they had all already tested their suppressed D-PDW-4’s and D-MIWS. They were waiting for was night to fall so that they could land on the island and start their reconnaissance. The only possible thing that could mess then plan up was the enemy fleet; they were being followed at long range by a pair of Finetooth submarines that were ready to take them out if necessary, though hopefully the operation would remain covert.

-----

Diplomatic Communique

To: Pavel Kasatikin
From: Amanda Ethridge

Message
Diggledom thanks you for your infomation you supplied. It will be put to use soon. Any infomation we gather will be reported to you, the Dauntless will start launching regular airbourne patrols around the island and there are several satellite techs working at the moment identifying enemy targets.

OOC: Right then Orbath, since you were a little vague in the direction your aircraft were coming from and what altitude they’re flying at I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume the best possible situation for their approach that I can think of, that and assume you’re attempting a HALO insertion here to make it more difficult to pick up the parachutes on radar. If this is a problem, I can rewrite this accordingly

Just North of point 165 outside Kurlov on the Eastern side of Novajev a small crew of mercenaries; members of the newly created Novajev Army as they were called by those who engineered the coup, watched the repeater screens within a small command vehicle connected to one of the P-37 ‘Bar Lock’ early warning radar systems. From this position they could clearly see all airborne contacts, at least those not flying low enough to be under their horizon, for nearly three hundred kilometers to the East, South and West, their North was blinded by the island’s relatively tall mountain. Normally they would have been concerned about such a blind spot, but a more mobile system had been deployed to operate in that area, thus closing the blind avenue of approach.

It was a difficult situation for them and other air defense operators; the skies of the SFR were filled with all manners of aircraft from passenger planes to cargo transports to military aircraft on patrol. To make matters word one of the primary air routes for civilian traffic from Southern Germania, Northern Kilrany and Valnari to Russkya ran just North of the island, not far from their national waters. While their orders were clear, not to allow aircraft to fly over the island, they had also been ordered not to fire on civilian aircraft lest they accidentally deepen what was already a tense situation.

Despite this however when several aircraft broke from the well-traveled corridor it caught the attention of the Northern aid defense operators, currently located in a ‘Long Track’ mobile radar truck inside the firebase West of Bilikov. Time was critical for the operators and they quickly attempted to raise the unidentified aircraft as they drew ever closer to ‘failsafe’ line, an invisible line they had drawn in the sky where they would open fire on any aircraft attempting to violate Novajev airspace.

“Unidentified aircraft on bearing one eight-zero at six thousand meters, you are approaching restricted airspace, if you continue on course you will be fired upon, change course bearing three three-zero immediately. I repeat, change course bearing three three-zero or you will be fired upon, acknowledge!”

At the same time one of the operators was attempting to raise the aircraft, another operator was using the radio to contact a nearby battery of six SA-17s somewhere North of Travoro. In response the once dormant radar systems of these two air defense units powered up, sweeping the Northern skies for their targets. The fire control radars on the vehicles lashed towards the incoming aircraft, painting them with an invisible spotlight, highlighting the aircraft for the five and a half meter long missiles. Were the aircraft civilian they would not detect the fire control radar locking on to them, if they were military they would most likely have such detection systems and initiate counter measures in an attempted to lose the lock, a difficult task for large transport aircraft. If the latter occurred, or they passed within twenty kilometers of the Northern Coast, two missiles were to be fired at each approaching aircraft.

OOC: Bah, I don’t know what it is with Jolt, your post only showed up on the forum here after I made my last post. Didn’t have time to write up a response at the time so here it is now. As for Maria and Adam, we don’t have to go into the little details if you’d like, it doesn’t bother me too much, there’s not a whole lot I could add at this time aside from some minor little things that have no bearing on this RP. Sorry for the small post here, I’m not feeling so well right now and not terribly inspired at this time. I hope to write a better post to go up later to help move the story along on Novajev.

As the two walked along Maria nodded her head in acknowledgement of his question, “That’s right. The Internal Security Ministry is just a rather fancy name for the police here,” she smiled slightly before continuing, “There are no ‘local’ police forces as some have, all police officers throughout the country receive the same level of training and the same quality equipment and are assigned to towns based on their size, been that way for a long time now.”

She paused a moment, the question of how long she had been a officer in the ISM led her to recall memories of training, “Been about five years now, when it came time to serve my service in the military I requested the ISM and so far I’ve had no reason to regret that decision. To be honest being a police officer here is not all that difficult and the pay is good.”

“How about you? Given your rank as Captain you must be several years into service yourself.”

-----

Kilrany citizens looked on in awe as they saw a pair of 5th Division soldiers casually speaking in a friendly tone with the foreign personnel, of all the things they thought they knew about 5th Division, a friendly people was far from anything they were familiar with.

Fang merely gave a slight shake of his head in response to the offer to join them in a drink, whatever expression they might have had on their faces was concealed behind their black balaclavas and goggles, “Appreciated, but no thank you. We have a patrol to conduct.”

With that said they both gave a slight nod of their head and walked off down the street, though it was probably for the best that they did for it was unlikely that the two sailors would have much liked their company, for much like the special forces operatives on the Dauntless, these men had killed before and had no qualms about doing so again if they thought it was in the best interests of the Kilrany Empire.

Bar near the Plovdiv docks

"Yeah, four years now. You get fast tracked if you are in the Naval police so here I am, seems a good life, certainly good pay. Anyway, as I was saying before...."

-----

Plovdiv City centre

Chris and Emma both politely nodded as the two operatives left, feeling slightly odd when they noticed the odd looks they were getting from some of the civilians near them. When they overheard one of the civilians saying to a newcomer, "Yeah, just talking to them...", they decided to leave, slowly making their way back to the Docks.

OOC: Sorry for the short post, I need to sort out the military organisation a bit better so I can deal with the reinforcements and I will write up a reasonable length post for the start of the SF landings. Hope you feel better soon and a curse on jolt for causing so much trouble.

Tysentralnoye Morye

Even the mundane act of throwing a rubber ball against a bulkhead was out of the question. Discouraged from his failure to end the incessant boredom, Duncan Banks let his head fall backwards until it impacted the soft down pillow decorating the head of his bunk. "Seriously, mate, when the fuck do we go ashore?"

Beneath the tall, well muscled Banks a shorter and seemingly stockier man turned over. "How the bloody hell would I know? Shut up and get some sleep," he added a few more choice adjectives about his comrade, all of them inaudible to the agitated Banks.

"Damn submarines, why could we not just drop in by parachute like we did in Novikov?"

"Because we haven't taken out their air defences," Cižek added from the shadows of his own bunk, its curtain drawn and so slightly muffling his voice. "You had weeks to pinpoint our radar stations and missile batteries and take them out with cruise missiles launched from submarines just like this."

Banks rolled his eyes. "Just keep whining about how you lost the damn war."

"We deserved to lose, Kacnerova was a bitch--"

"Who nuked us," Banks quickly interjected, smiling to himself.

"Yeah, but it was your prime minister who leveled a city of millions, killing hundreds of thousands."

"Revenge, Mirek, is best served with millions of pounds or ordnance. Poldi'sk got what it deserved. I mean really, mate--"

"Stuff it, Duncan." Another voice suddenly entered the fray; unlike the increasingly agitated banter, however, Rodney's voice was dripping with unbridled contempt. Nobody in the compartment heard him enter. "If you want to wet your panties in a pissing contest, wait until we get home or we finish the mission. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," came the cold, oft-rehearsed reply. Rodney allowed himself to sit down at a table where another member of his team was stripping and cleaning his rifle. "It will not be long, ladies, until we disembark from this coffin and land ashore. Our target is a lowland near the settlement of Chilkov and a major enemy encampment is to our south."

"Resistance, sir," a professional Banks inquired.

"If the crew of the Clement does their job right, minimal." Rodney stood for a moment and handed a small laser printout of the eastern half of Novajev to each member of his team. Finishing his walk around the compartment, he settled back in his seat and looked at the map himself. "The last transmission from ORNI brought us these photographs, composited into this neat little map. To the north we have what looks to be a hastily-prepared airfield with some attack helicopters visible."

"Sir," Cižek interrupted, "if I may, I would like to add that even though it's a civilian field for small aircraft, I wouldn't put it past them to eventually station light fighters or close-support aircraft with rough field capabilities. Back in the war, sir, you hit a lot of our airfields and took out most of our airforce; but we kept harassing your ground forces by using small civilian fields, highways, and alike to base small fighters. They might not be a challenge to any big air superiority fighters, but a 30 mil cannon sir will chew us up be it on a Frogfoot or a Flanker."

Rodney nodded thoughtfully, mulling over the Novikovian's point for a moment before continuing. "Good point, Mirek. Everyone, let us be clear, this is an 'eye-and-evade' mission. Georgetown wants intel on just who invaded this island and, if possible, their reasons and intentions. At all costs we are to avoid contact with natives and that means airborne patrols. Now, as for getting there, once the Clement clears us, we are going to exit through the trunk and swim ashore. It will be a long swim, so stay rested. When we get ashore there will be plenty of trees and hills and lowlands where we can hide. We will simply be reporting, gentlemen, not engaging the whole army of Novajev."

"Yes, sir," came the unit's single response.

"Though we easily could," Rodney added, provoking some laughter that steeled all of their nerves.

In Operations, Moore had already steeled his nerves quite some time ago. It had been over a day to reach a point just outside Novajev's waters and as his submarine neared the coastline, the elevation had begun to rise along with the anxiety of his senior staff. For two hours they had been running at battlestations, ready for immediate defensive action should they be surprised while running deep.

"Diving officer," Moore finally spoke, breaking the quiet that had befallen the compartment, "take us to periscope depth, Lieutenant Henderson, ready the ESM mast; when we get to depth I want to make a clean sweep of the area."

As the submarine edged closer to the shores of Novajev, Moore was not inclined to any rash course changes. Rather, the Clement continued silent running, asdic officers listening closely for any submerged or surface contacts, while slowly rising to a depth at which her ESM mast could poke above the surface and listen for any and all electronic noise.

OOC: Not much of a post here for your Azazia, but it should help you RP your approach and deployment onto the island, still not feeling the best so I’ve not been in a good writing mood, which frustrates me.

While the three Neustrashimy class frigates, the pride of the Novajev navy patrolled their Southern waters, matching the relative position of the small Kilrany fleet, the remainder of the Novajev Navy, made up of four Steregushchy class Corvettes and eight Pauk class fast attack ships, each capable of conducting anti-submarine warfare were patrolling within Novajev national waters to the East, North and West.

Their task however would not be an easy one for they still had over twelve hundred square kilometers of water to monitor and a submarine was a most difficult quarry to catch. Adding to their difficulties was the simple fact that they were pushing their crew’s endurance to the limits, being on full combat alert since just before the initial landing, their forces were simply not properly prepared for such long duration mission, and it would not be much longer before they would suffer negative effects to their operational efficiency.

On shore difficulties were beginning to arise, after having been forced to engage Novajev National Police officers the newly names Novajev Army was forced to take on the role of police force as well. While this was not a difficult task for them, it forced them to spread their available personnel across the island in roles that were not ideal in the minds of their commanders; as a result, patrols along the Novajev shoreline had declined slightly as the days began to drag on.

OOC I am really sorry I post so slow, but my online time has been cut to about 1 day a week recently. Also, I merely forgot to toss my nation's name into the communique... my bad.

"Roger roger! This is the KSB Wasp from the Kingdom of SaintB. We were diverted fom our normal patrol and sent here to watch Novajev to make sure the situation doesn't get too ugly; good to hear freindly tidings L - T." the second comm officer Brady Sims replied to the now almost crystal clear message from shore, "Is there a chance we can get contact on a more secure channel sir?" Though the man was not a part of his military he always felt more comfortable using titles when speaking to anyone of higher rank.
Brady waited for a reply, another surge from the storm garbled the transmission again making the young soldier curse all broadband channels and thier fickle signals, "Can you repeat sir? Your message is garbled and unclear, repeat. Can you repeat that sir? Your message is garbled and unclear."

"Guess your name doesn't just apply to dodging bullets?" Lt. Curtis said with a smart assed grin.
This kid was cleaning him out... it didn't seem to matter what cards he had.
Curtis had been sure there was no way the kid could beet him when he had three jacks on the flop but he'd be damned if that kid didn't have both companions to the ace that came up on the river. The pile of chips was greatly diminished while Lucky had a pile that rivaled the Himalayas.
"Well sir... some people are just born with it."
"I guess so." a third voice chimed in, one that made all 6 soldiers in the tiny room stand up rail straight and salute in almost one fluid movement."
"At ease.." Admiral Heart said waving her hand, "Sometimes I think the Land Services spend the entire training budget teaching you boys how to salute."
A femenine voice cleared her throat, "We both know that women don't need an training at all." she said with a wink.
"We might have a job for you, the island of Novajev has fallen under attack, all intelligence we have gathered points toward a military coup. The desk jockeys back home are not sure whether we have any civillians on the rock but we have a vested interest in making sure that thier oil keeps flowing; currently we have no quarrel with the new government in power, if indeed anyone has control yet but intelligence wants to know more about whats going on there. This means we may need people on the ground; as the very best in SaintB it will fall to you guys if the tiime comes."
"Yes Ma'am." The Leutenant and his squad of Golden Lions replied.
"From now on, you guys are on red status, be ready to head out on a moments notice."

OOC: Not a problem SaintB, some of you may have noticed I’m not exactly a speedy typist myself here, heh. As for your IC message, that’s not really your fault, I tend to take IC messages rather literally, just my way I suppose. By the way Azazia, given the crappiness of my last post, I’m going to try and improve upon it here with a little more detailed information, this should ideally be a bit more helpful to you.

The Lieutenant Commander had to stop and think a moment, he wasn’t sure how they could attain a more secure frequency given the fact neither nation had ever had proper relations and would have their own encryption methods. After considering the options for a few moments he was still drawing a blank, “Apologies KSB Wasp, compatibility issues preclude a properly secure signal, though given your position in the Strait, you’re well outside the range of any Novajev units, if your concern is other, well then we have a problem it would seem.”

He frowned when he received a reply indicating his message had been garbled and he silently cursed the bad weather that had socked in the area just after the whole situation had begun. Quickly he hit the transmit key again and repeated his last message.

-----

Ten kilometers East of Travoro and traveling in a Southern direction, Commander Rouben Nova of the Kalash, one of the Pauk class fast attack ships of the Novajev navy surveyed his crew within the cramped CIC room of his vessel. He had decided to take a break from the bridge to have a more direct look at some of the information his ship’s sensors were taking in, mostly interested in what his sonar operator was hearing as he listened through the ship’s bow mounted array as it casually cruised along at fifteen knots.

The Pauk was vessel specially designed for the Novajev Navy by the Kilrany at the request of the previous Novajev government, while it had been costly, they had felt it worth while at the time for what they got out of it. While it was decently armed for its size, the more important aspect of the ship was that it didn’t require a large crew complement, which had previously limited the Novajev Navy due to its small population base.

The design was rather simple and had it not been for its increased size and multipurpose design, it could have easily been nothing more then a simple missile corvette. Capable of speeds up to forty-five knots the ship was essentially a large corvette fitted with weapons seen on a Sovremenny class Destroyer, though its size limited the amount of extra ordnance it could carry.

Located to the front near the bow of the ship was a twin 130mm gun mount, just behind the gun mount were twenty four VLS tubes for the SA-N-9 Gauntlet air defense missile. Located along the sides of the ship next to the primary superstructure were four above deck launch tubes for the SS-N-22 Sunburn Anti-ship missile. Built on top of the ship’s primary superstructure behind the mast was a six-barreled 30mm AK-630 artillery system; prior to the coup the Kilrany Imperial Arms Manufacturers, who had been initially responsible for the design and construction of the ships for Novajev had been offering an upgrade package to the newer Kashtan-M system, only three of their ships had received the upgrade and the Kalash was not one of them. Behind the superstructure were several above deck launchers for the ship’s torpedoes, two four by three launchers on either side angled to port and starboard respectively, they were a fifty-fifty mixed of lighter anti-submarine torpedoes and heavier anti-ship torpedoes. Finally, at the request of the Novajev Navy, a twin rack of depth charges sat on the very stern of the ship, each holding a total of eight depth charges in sets of four.

Nova took a moment to glance at the repeater screen for the ship’s primary surface search radar, taking note of the locations of the other ships of the Novajev Navy that were visible to them and comparing it to what he knew of their deployment around the island. Most of their ships were spread out around the island’s coast, remaining inside their national waters, the three Neustrashimy class Frigates on the South at the edge of their waters with a pair of Pauk in closer to the coast, on both the East and West were two Pauk class and a single Steregushchy class Corvette, to the North were two of the Steregushchy class Corvettes and the other two Pauk class.

Coming up behind his sonar operator he carefully tapped the young man on the shoulder before quietly speaking, “I’m assuming since you’ve been rather quiet you’re not hearing anything.”

He didn’t look away from his own screen when he replied, “No sir, I got nothing at this time, don’t worry, if I hear something I’ll hit the Chinese fire drill button,” the slight smile and tone of the operator’s voice brought a smile to Nova’s face, content that some of his crew’s moral was still in decent shape.

“Good, good, I’ll leave you be.”

"No Sir, I beleive there may be a solution to a more secure link... the government wants to share intel and we could do a direct sattelite link to you boys on shore; it might take about 20 minutes to get a sattelite properly in place..." Brady replied nonchalontly, "But that can provide a reasonably secure channel for us to use sir."

The Kilrany officer sort of looked at the communications terminal in front of him for moment attempting to understand the plan of the sailor on the other end, “If this can be done then I see no problem, I will advise my commanding officer and arrangements will be made, but how do you plan to keep the signal secure? While we could receive a signal, unless it was an open one we would not have the decryption key to read it.”

He kept to himself the fact that it was likely that they could decrypt a message given enough time and depending on the level of encryption, not willing to discuss the Kilrany ELINT and SIGINT capabilities either over open channels or to a nation’s military that wasn’t a confirmed ally of the Empire.

Bryan blinked, to him this was a simple operation and he was surprised that an empire the size of the Kilrany have never heard of such a procedure, or perhaps it was one that was rarely used, "We would constantly moniter the sattelite channel for any outside interfearance, if anyone intercepted the signal we would notice the divergence in the signal's destination... its not the best but it can get the job done for the time being. Our current mission parameters only call for 48 hour survielence and should be secure enough for that time we will use direct burst transmissions to make it even harder to trace."

“I copy that Wasp, we will make the necessary preparations.”

The officer was still not convinced, from what he knew of communications and signal interception, any wireless signal could be passively received if one had the right receiver in the right place without the source of the transmission knowing anything about it, the difficulty then usually arose in the level of encryption in the signal. In any case he chose not to argue the point, it would have taken a dedicated SIGINT craft of some kind within a fifty kilometers of the SaintB transmitter or a hundred kilomters of the Kilrany receiver to pick up the signal the SaintB officer was referring to. And no such foreign craft were present as far as the Kilrany could tell.

((OOC: Its a direct burst transmission, the message is sent directly to the location via satelite. Its concentrated into basically a beam of sound... it takes several seconds because it can only travel at the speed of sound but basically the only way to recieve it is if you are supposed to or through plain dumb luck, there is only a small cone in which the message can be recieved. The US military has a non-lethal weapon that uses sound in 'beam' you can litterally stand next to the device and not hear a thing but when you move in front of it the sound is so deafening it can disable and stun you. Instead of a sound wave, its like a sound ray, I'm a semi-pmt style nation and my nation has harnessed it for short range secure convos.))

"Thank you sir, this should work out ok, all we need from you right now is the longitutde and lattitude of you comm facility so we can get a precise location for the sattelite to take orbit up at... expect a delay between transmissions."

((OOC: Sorry for the further OOC but this here is an example of what I am basing this communications off of... http://www.temple.edu/ispr/examples/ex02_06_23.html))

OOC: No problem, but if the signal is sound based and your transmitter is a satellite in orbit, how does it make it past the ‘lack of air for sound to travel in’ point, or is this a low altitude satellite closer to the atmosphere?

“Acknowledged Wasp, transmitting location now.”

The Lieutenant Commander tapped in a few keys on his computer and accessed the location information on a communication relay station a hundred kilometers North of the Trinaga naval facility, then sent the coordinates to the man on the other end of the transmission.

The lead escort aircraft radioed back.

''This is an Orbathian mission, we are flying in troopers to secure stranded Orbathian civilians. You will not engage us. Doing so will result in serious consequences.''

The aircraft continued forward. They were flying in from the west. They had no choice, they couldn't turn back, the civilians had to be rescued. Things looked bad however, so a whole parachute division was readied back at home. They began packing their kit and fueling planes. They would be able to make it to anywhere in Novajev in under 5 hours.

“Travoro is the target. There are five peaks in the surrounding area, each of which will provide acceptable places for OPs. The planned site for the OP is north of the town at 239 above sea. This should provide an easy view of the town which will be roughly 2 clicks from your position. After the first report the mission may change to retrieval of Diggledom citizens, if that happens you will move to the peak north west of the town, which is 264 above sea. That night further orders will be transmitted to you. Both peaks have forest cover, ideal places for OPs. That is all the outline we will give you for now. Further briefings will be done by your section IC.”

The Diggledom Military Intelligence officer left the room, leaving the Marine force recon section alone, the leader, a gunnery sergeant stood up. All the rest of the squad could see was his silhouette against the wall mounted screen showing the map of the island.

“Okay lads. Our mission is to observe Travoro, I repeat, our mission is to observe Travoro. We will follow the advice of Mil. Int. bad idea though that is,” He grinned, “We will take a decent amount of weapons and other ordinance with us, but we want to avoid contact with the enemy unless entirely necessary. Now we aren’t on the Dauntless so they can launch air patrols that will occupy the mercenaries, tying them up on the other side of the island, if they do launch at the planes they will pull back into the ship’s defence zone and if they don’t the planes could actually launch an attack. The enemy naval forces will be no problem on our insertion and if they get jittery we have submarines and the Venture ready to start sinking them. We have the advantage of overwhelming fire superiority here. But back to the matter at hand, insertion will be via Smallfin raiding craft, one carrying us and one gun platform version carrying some of the kit plus our defence for the infiltration. When we get there we will set up and try to avoid contact with the enemy, which brings me onto the next thing. Our allies have supplied us with information about the enemy. They are fielding BMP-2’s, BTR-80’s and T’s. We will be taking anti-tank stuff with us, but it is kind of a big hint if one goes BOOM. So lets try to avoid them ‘kay? Any questions?” He looked around for the inevitable questions.

“What support have we got from the fleet?” One of the squad asked from the back of the darkened room.

“If we can ID targets then we can get them to hit them with cruise missiles or naval gunfire. We are all trained to be FAO’s (OOC: forward artillery observers) so we can correct their fire if this really blows up.”

“Will we get reinforcements if needed?”

“Two days until a pair of troop ships arrive, which will carry enough men to flatten the damn island if we need to.”

“Was about casevac’s?”

“Chopper will be standing by just in case but once again, this isn’t going to end up as a fire fight unless it goes badly wrong. The fighting will happen tomorrow night if at all and the Dauntless will be back around here waiting to evac us and the civvies. If there aren’t any more questions we should all get some sleep, there is only four hours until the start of the mission.”

Of course non of them actually slept, they checked their weapons, checked their clothes, checked their equipment, checked their weapons again, went to the galley and ate, wrote letters to loved ones and all the other little make work jobs they could think of to take their minds off what was about to happen.

-----

The 8 man team stepped onto the sand, PNVG sets attached to their helmets scanning left and right, looking for any movement. The beach was deserted. The leader flashed his IR torch at the two boats twice and watched as they turned and sped silently away. They were alone.

It took them nearly twenty minutes to silently move into position in the forested area near the beach, they had just got into position when an owl hooted loudly, almost directly over the heads of the men. They all glared upwards as the owl uncaringly spread its wings and left it's perch, ignoring the humans below.

The team sniper, Austen, slid his 25mm anti material rifle forwards under the trunk of a fallen tree, hiding it from view, but leaving himself a clear view of the road approaching the forest. Standard Diggledom military doctrine called for everyone to work in battle buddy pairs, so Ollie was not far to his left and slightly behind the muzzle of the huge rifle, so as to avoid the muzzle blast. He had set up his smaller sniper rifle in a snipers hide he had constructed using camouflage netting and the lucky placing of two of the larger tree branches.

The D-MMG-4’s we set up to provide cover fire that could cover both the town and the area of the road outside the snipers line of sight. The machine gunners and their partners dug shallow scrapes to hide in before covering them with netting and quickly writing up range cards for the guns. When everyone had dug in the team leader, Michael went around behind their position and carefully laid a number of D-DFM-1 mines, basically larger, more violent versions of the American claymore mines, covering a full 90 degree arc each, anything within 30m would be shredded if they went off. To prevent animals detonating the mines he put the mines into command detonation mode and left the detonators with Todd, his second in command, who was watching the backs of the rest of the team. Come morning the team would be nearly invisible to the naked eye from 50m and if anyone got closer it would be a simple matter of disposing of them.

OOC: I mean no disrespect by this Diggledom, but please don’t tell me what my forces are doing, patrol routes, checkpoints etc, and composition thereof have already been determined, I ‘m a little touchy on this subject as I’ve had bad some really bad experience with it in the past. This may seem a little hypocritical given my assumption of the direction Orbath aircraft were approaching from, but is not quite the same since he took a course of action without details.

Additionally Diggledom, since you didn’t specify your landing position I cannot put up a response at this time. The North of the island is all steep hills and trees, patrolled only by light infantry, taking vehicles off road in this area is suicide.

Approaching from the West would be of no benefit to the Orbathian aircraft, in fact it only increased the number of anti-aircraft systems with clear fields of fire on to the approaching aircraft. Additionally this would serve to merely burn more fuel as that approach would require them to fly in over the free airspace over the Zuiderzee Strait in a roundabout course that would take them around to the East then North of the island before they could approach from the West, for no nation of the SFR would allow a flight of unknown military aircraft to over fly them.

Within the command vehicle for the second P-37 Bar Lock radar at point 162 just North-northeast of Zhideijev the bluff used by the Orbath pilot almost succeeded, almost.

“What the hell man? What are we supposed to do? Who the hell are these Orbathians?”

The second mercenary simply looked at his colleague and shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know, but I’m sure as hell not putting my bonus at risk.”

The soldier quickly dialed up the encoded frequency currently in use by the air defense units on the island, “All units, this is an island wide alert, we have hostile aircraft breaching from the West. All units are to engage at will, clear our airspace, I repeat, clear our airspace.”

Not only did this immediately bring to bare three separate SA-17 batteries on the West coast of Novajev, each with their own supporting Tunguskas, one located on the hilltop overlooking Tjukovsk and Korovask, the second at a small farm just North of point 141 and Tyulska, and the third Southeast of Anjukov at point 76, each one made up of six launch vehicles capable striking out to fifty kilometers. It also alerted all island air defense units to fire at any aircraft within range. To add to this threat were the two Pauk class fast attack ships off the West coast, though they only had a number of SA-15 at their disposal, if the Orbathian aircraft dropped below six thousand meters or came within twelve kilometers, their missiles would be added to the fray.

With each launch vehicle fully capable of independently tracking their targets, the various TELAR lit up the Orbath aircraft and across the West coast of Novajev the skies began to fill with over a dozen five and a half meter long missiles, their solid fuel rocket engines quickly pushing the seven hundred and twenty kilogram missiles up to their maximum speed of mach three, intent on delivering their seventy kilogram warheads to their designated targets.

The mercenaries intent was clear, any Orbath aircraft in the sky were to be shot down, if the initial volley didn’t do the job, more would immediately follow, traveling at just over a kilometer per second, it would not take long to for the SAM crews to know if their missiles had scored a hit and if they needed to launch more.

-----

Farther to the South within the KIN Fiery Dawn’s CIC, a crewman watched the repeater screens in front of him displaying the composite radar image of the surroundings. The flight of Orbath aircraft had been spotted coming in through the Strait earlier, but the small number of aircraft and their roundabout course had been dismissed as not being a threat to Kilrany.

Now however at the same time the mercenary air defense crews noticed the deviation, so too did the Kilrany operators, however they found that there was nothing they could do, flipping over to the open frequencies they could hear that the grounds forces on Novajev were already attempting to wave them off to little success. Thought to far over the horizon and at the wrong angle to detect the activated fire control radars, they were able to detect the numerous missiles pop onto their screens as they screamed there way towards the Orbath aircraft.

The operators cursed and quickly notified the Captain, then the Admiral.

OOC: Sorry, my bad. I should have caught it in the read through:-( I will change it now.

I had orignally thought my forces would be landing somewhere around 18 J6 on the map? I wasn't sure if that would be a cliff so I tried to leave it possible that they had landed on a small beach before climbing. Is that okay? Sorry again:-(

OOC: Not your fault, I should have gone into some basic detail about patrols along the coast. Apologies myself if I sounded snippy, I just get a little uneasy under these circumstances, a while ago a fellow I was fighting against ‘captured’ a high ranking officer of my Imperial Guard, a unit that doesn’t surrender, without RPing it, and then tortured her (yes her, he picked the officer’s sex as well) to ICly know what I was doing, all in one post without any word at all to me. Suffice it to say that post got ignored in the end, but I digress.

I’ll work on a post now; add some better detail as to the patrols and type of patrols around the coasts of the island so you fellows can better write up your own reply. Likely to limit OOC clutter I’ll just edit it in to this post.

As to where you land, that’s your call; though if your plan was to operate up around Travoro in the Northeast, why land in the far Southeast? Is it your intent to move North from there to gather intelligence along the way?
Nothing wrong with that if that’s the case, I’m just curious at this point, heh.

Lieutenant Commander Frunzik Hedison looked over a large map of Novajev he had spread out over a simple wooden table; several pins and small pen marks indicated various important troop and equipment locations on the Eastern side of the island. As a member of Admiral Rinat Ekster’s staff, he was one of the few military officers at the heart of the coup, which began a mere three days earlier. Due to his position he had been given the task of commanding one of the two battalions of mercenaries they had covertly built up in the FLRJ.

He was not alone in the command bunker; located in the largest of the Eastern bases being established by the newly names Novajev Army, four of the mercenary officers, the commanders of the four companies that made up Frunzik’s battalion, they were giving him a brief run down of the current situation.

“For the most part we’re keeping our vehicles away from the North sir, the gradient on this Northern mountain of yours would only prove to be suicidal for any armoured vehicle attempting to move around up there. As such we’ve ordered an increased in the foot patrols, though we’ve left the Lieutenants with some leeway to mix up the times they sent out a section.”

Frunzik nodded his head, he was a naval officer but he had a basic understanding of ground tactics, despite this though, or perhaps because of it, he leaned heavily on the experience of the soldiers currently standing around him.

“What about the airfield next to Travoro?”

“That’s the only exception besides the firebase near Bilikov. Aside from the flight crew and support personnel for the helicopters and a platoon of light infantry, we’ve put a pair of motorized infantry sections there as well with several BTRs for extra firepower. We were a little concerned as well for the SAM battery up near hill two three-nine, its someone exposed and alone up there so we sent pair of infantry sections to dig in with them and provide additional security.”

“What about the rest of the East and South here?”

“Well, it’s pointless to send tracked vehicles out on patrol, just a waste of fuel and they’re easy to spot, so we’re putting the mechanized infantry units into reserve status at the bases we’ve been setting up, most are on a alert to move out however should anyone run into trouble and need the support. Like the mountain, we’re limited patrols along the coast to the light infantry sections, less noticeable this way, though we are using several of the motorized infantry sections to patrol the main roads.”

“Good, good. Admiral Ekster has expressed concerns about the increasing number of foreign warships entering the area, are the ‘countermeasures’ spread out and standing by?”

“Yes sir. While we’ve kept half on them here, stored in the makeshift garages, we’ve spread several out to a few quiet locations where they won’t be seen by any bothersome satellites.”

“Right then. I must admit I’m a little surprised, everything’s been going just a little to smoothly.”

One of the officers grunted in amusement, “You should be happy for that and enjoy it while you can, it never lasts long.”

Frunzik was about to reply when a soldier came running in through the bunker’s small door, “Sir, Western air control has just called out contacts, unidentified aircraft are attempting to approach from the West, they have ordered all air defense forces to engage at will.”

“Ah shit.”

ooc: sorry for the weakness of the post, admittedly, i rushed it and may have overlooked some things, my apologies. if you have a problem with me getting to the landing so quick, just let me know and we can work it out in greater detail. otherwise, hope you're feeling better

Tysentralnoye Morye

"Sir, given speed and strength of the target, I would say nothing larger than a sloop."

Moore shook his head. The as-of-yet unidentified contact was headed in a southerly direction, though it would still pass west of his position. Regardless, this close to shore such a contact would surely be Novajev patrol ship, or a mercenary ship, either way, potentially hostile. "Lieutenant, I want a firing solution for one of our Ranseurs, understood?"

The long-range cruise missile could easily sink such a small ship, designed originally to engage larger cruisers and dreadnoughts. Overkill, Moore knew, but it would be far faster than a torpedo in reaching the target and eliminating it should the need arise. "Keep us on course," he added, "new speed of six knots, slow and steady. Bring down the mast."

Beneath the surface, albeit at a slower speed, the Clement continued her approach towards the Novajev coast; the asdic operators paying close attention to the bearing and speed of the contact, designated as hostile. As the minutes passed, there was no indication that the patrol ship had picked up Moore and his command and so Rodney was summoned to Operations.

"Captain Rodney, we have a single surface contact, probably a destroyer, nothing larger than a sloop."

The special forces man nodded silently, well aware of the singular classification system used by the Royal Navy. He often laughed when on foreign assignments for foreign sailors ridiculed the 'modern' system wherein UK destroyers were but missile patrol boats and frigates displaced upwards of twenty-thousand tonnes. "Shall we be disembarking soon, sir?"

"Indeed, get your team ready."

"Aye, sir."

Abaft the sail, the men of Rodney's team gathered their gear and headed for their delivery vehicle that would be piloted by two Royal Navy submariners. It took no more than five minutes; the men until this point anxious to start their mission, now they waited nervously in the vehicle.

"What do we have, sir?" Banks inquired.

"Surface contact, nothing too serious apparently," Rodney replied. Despite having infiltrated enemy territory numerous times, he still felt nervous. Unlike almost every other operation, there was no UK political commitment to Novajev operations. No Grand Fleet off the coast or stealth bombers in the air. Not even an advance team of diplomatic spies on the ground. Just satellites in orbit and soon his own two feet.

Each man checked the next's SCUBA gear and after signaling Operations that all was ready, the compartment began to flood. Once complete, the submersible slowly detached itself from the Clement and began to motor in at a slow six knots. It was a nervous ride, the breathing, while controlled, still sounded loud in Rodney's head.

Nonetheless, it was a trip that passed in silence. Eventually, they reached a point just five kilometres from the coast. Not wanting to provide any opportunity for a Novajev patrol to interdict the submersible, the team disembarked and began their slow paddle-assisted swim towards the shore.

After an eternity, Rodney's head broached the waves. He quickly brought his rifle up, quickly scanning the beach and hoping that Moore had delivered him where promised. With the skies dark, the sun having set, he saw nobody silohuetted against the skyline and only the mountains rising north and west of his position. His men soon appeared behind him, their own weapons trained to cover Banks and Cižek as they darted towards the main road linking Bitarjev and Chilkov.

The two split the task, one taking the east and the other the west side of the road, the enhanced-vision scopes quickly attached to their helmets after reaching dry land. Their task, make sure that as the rest of the team landed and headed towards the nearby lowlands, no roving patrols interfered. Given the terrain, Rodney rationalised that any serious patrol would either be aerial, for which the nearby hills, forests, and lowlands could provide cover, or bound by the same road. In that case, it was a matter of advanced warning like that being provided by Banks and Cižek.

Off the coast, the submersible began its quiet return to the waiting Clement, where Moore was all too glad to resume a holding position just outside Novajev waters.

OOC: If I got the map coordinates right then it is the hill just above Travoro I landed on. This is the detailed map. The latest one you put up I am refering too. Does that make it any clearer? Will stick an IC post up in a bit. Thanks.

OOC: I had figured you would have been landing in the North, but according to the map’s coordinate system, Juliet six (J6) would put you way down in the South just to the East of Saprovo, which is what confused me a little. Travoro is up around the coastline of Juliet one (J1) and Juliet two (J2).

For the soldiers of Diggledom, the area around Travoro would be an excellent position to observe the movements of and gather intelligence from the mercenary force, for two important positions were located around the small community. To the North, around hill 239 was a full battery of SA-17 Grizzly SAM systems along with a pair of Tunguskas and a pair of infantry sections for support. To the West of Travoro, between hill points 407, 264 and 332 was the light airstrip converted to helicopter base, of which the primary road South out of Travoro ran along the perimeter of. Additionally just over a third of a kilometer from the Northern perimeter of the airfield was point 264, where a large communications tower loomed up on the horizon, currently sat disabled and unguarded by the Novajev Army.

While it would not be a walk in the park, for the a well trained force it would be relatively easy to evade or conceal themselves from the small, regular sections of light infantry who were tasked with running patrols around this portion of the island. Though their task of hiding would be made slightly more difficult due to the simple fact that the mercenary units were well equipped, which included decent night vision goggles and for the most part were combat veterans of the FLRJ civil war.

-----

OOC: Azazia, I got no problem with your quick speed, I haven’t exactly been keeping a strict keep of the time, so I think a little flexibility and ‘fluid time’ is somewhat required, plus I think it’s good to finally have SF teams arrive on the island, I, and Russkya *insert maniacal laughter here* have been looking forward to it. I am indeed feeling better, thank you, heh, must have been some minor bug, as for your post, looks damn fine to me.

The Azazian Special Forces team and in turn the HMS Clement were fortunate two times over.

First off, the sonar operator of the Kalash did not hear the release or transit of the Azazian submersible, for a failing of the Novajev Navy was that due to their small population base they had never been able to drum up enough personnel to bother purchasing a submarine. While they had received basic training on their equipment by Kilrany personnel they had never been able to carry out any proper ASW simulations to let their sonar operators get a proper feel for the difficult task that anti-submarine warfare presented.

Secondly, they had beaten out a mercenary patrol by fifteen minutes, for just a kilometer to the South a ten man section was making it’s way through a grouping of trees at a casual pace, conducting a patrol that would take them along the coast North towards Bitarjev, then back South again near Saprovo, A mere ten minutes later on their approach and the Azazian team would have had this hostile section walk in on their left flank as they came ashore.

Despite being the only road to Bitarjev, it was not a well-traveled road, especially not this late in the evening, or during what would be best described as a state of martial law enacted by the Admiral Ekster at the beginning of the coup, as such it was only sporadically traveled by a pair patrolling BTR-80 which had a rather large amount of road to cover.

OOC: Okay, my bad, I messed up the order of the coordinates in my last post, I had given a four figure grid reference for accuracy, but messed it up ironically. How big is the battalion of grizzlys? Will get to writing in a bit, and when I see what happens to Orbaths ships.

OOC: *Clarity ensues* Ahhhh, I believe I understand now, though the coordinates you listed still don’t quite track in my mind, that’s probably just because I’m unused to the system you know. The SA-17 battery is only six TELAR, a command vehicle, a surveillance radar that has a bit better range then that on the TELAR and three reload vehicles, which are just heavy trucks with a crane carrying additional missiles. I felt that merely arming the crew would not be enough protection for a unit that essentially has its neck stretched out on that Northeastern tip so I added the two infantry sections to dig in with them.

Minor note, Orbath has sent in an undefined number of aircraft loaded with an undefined number of paratroopers, apparently he’s a land locked country. It will likely be bloody as I set up the mercenaries to be capable enough to give the Kilrany Empire a run for its money if it came to it.

RNS Europa, International Waters, Kilrany/Me'I Strait, 500 kilometres Southeast of Novajev

The Aequatian Republic Navy had long been a neglected service branch in the eyes of the military, the power projection capabilities of the Air Force and Army had nearly rendered the Navy little more than a maritime defence force and left much of the fleet in a state of disrepair up until a change in the position of Chief of Staff which allowed for a lone crusader to allow the government to provide the underfunded service with funding to allow for the construction and commissioning of new vessels. The RNS Europa, the fourth vessel to bear the name and the third carrier, was among the new class of fleet carriers constructed and launched within the past month and was still undergoing a shakedown cruise with its attached Carrier Air Wing when it was called to pass through the strait between the Kilrany Empire and the nation of Me'I in order to support a coming operation off the coast of the Republic of Novajev.

Captain Jon Bruebaker stood on the flight deck of the ship as it plowed through the water, cresting large waves off the bow as its course was set upon exiting the strait and entering the Tsyentralnoye Morye inner sea in order to get into its position off the coast and well outside the effective engagement range of the Novajev surface fleet. Along the flight deck was arrayed the new order of things as many of the previously Aequatian designs for aircraft had been replaced with foreign purchases, including the massive and advanced F/A-115A Cormorant, the Candrian FA 15D Cardinal produced in Aequatio using the Republic's avionics and other systems had replaced the seemingly outdated F/A-39 Enforcer design for an advanced strike fighter. EA-116A Deacon, an Aequatian-produced Candrian FA 16A Priest aircraft similar in fashion to the FA 15D, had replaced the Navy EA-16B Thrashers for the electronic warfare role. Among the other aircraft aboard the carrier were the anti-submarine squadrons consisting of the SV-22B Osprey tiltrotor and the SH-96F Sea-Jag helicopters, the same helicopter fitted for search and rescue was also present as the HH-96B Pave-Jag.

----------

Colonel England had not appreciated the immediate change in his deployment orders when instead of boarding an Air Force C-181A or MC-130Q Combat Talon III airlifter, he was greeted with a Navy C-2D Greyhound twin-engine turboprop carrier on-delivery plane with the orders that he and his team would be deployed to a waiting carrier in-theatre and without much of their heavier equipment, including their M1295 Stallion tactical vehicles, thanks to the late discovery of advanced air defence systems in a last minute IMINT satellite sweep and analysis of the island nation. Instead, their deployment called for an insertion via rubber assault boats dropped into the water from Navy helicopters in place of the usual parachute insertion with the support of the Air Force. The old officer grinned, however, as he realized the amount of support a Navy carrier, especially the Europa could provide against the utter lack of support fire they would receive from the Air Force.

Six hours had passed before the Greyhound's loadmaster walked back from his seat at the cockpit and informed the Army Special Forces troopers that the aircraft had initiated its landing vector and explained to them the force of a carrier landing compared to that of a nice Air Force tarmac.

"The squidie wasn't kidding about that landing," Commented the team's Weapons Specialist, Sergeant First Class Johann Keller, as he shrugged his rucksack onto his shoulders as the soldiers stepped down off the C-2D aircraft, "My ass is killing me."

"Sounds like what your woman was telling me before we left, sarnt," Joked the Operations Chief as they crossed the deck walking behind the naval officer which had greeted Colonel England on their arrival.

OOC: Sorry for the rubbish post, I can’t seem to concentrate at all at the moment. FYI: D-ANGS-2’s are 155mm rocket assisted gun systems
SLMRASM-2’s are sub launched anti shipping missiles. Really need to get into a good writing mood.

IC:

The branch slowly slid down, a gloved hand gently pulling it back before tying it back. Several branches had been tied back, exposing the command vehicle of the SA-17 battery to Austen. He slowly crawled backwards towards his rifle. The team had received new orders; they were to designate the surveillance radar and the control van, both the Tunguskas and call in the strike and destroy any of the battery that survived. There were only two sections of infantry guarding the site; the cruise missile strike would hopefully disorientate them long enough to make them easy pickings. At exactly 0920 they flicked the LTD triggers, sending four invisible targeting beams towards their pre-selected targets. They had already called in targeting data for the Whitefin D-ANGS-2 cannons, which would begin their bombardment just before the cruise missiles hit.

-----

Admiral Hall frowned as the Dauntless slid towards the rest of the carrier group; as soon as the Orbathian planes were spotted he had decided to reunite the fleet and wait to see what would happen but he had received orders direct from the Emperor, he was to retrieve all the Diggledom citizens as soon as possible, if any of them were dead then he was to destroy all the mercenary forces before pulling back. All to prove, “Diggledom isn’t a weak nation.” It didn’t help that it was the first major international incident that Diggledom had been involved in and the entire nation was feeling edgy he thought. He shook his head to clear it before walking towards the comms officer.

“As soon as we receive confirmation of the retrieval of the team send a message to the Kilrany saying that we have launched a limited strike against one of the anti-air emplacements. Then send an uncoded message to the mercenaries requesting the immediate release of all Diggledom citizens and a time and place for us to pick them up. Don’t tell them that it was us who launched the attack.”

-----

Captain Adams watched as a pair of cruise missiles erupted out of the PVLS at the front of the Infallible. He was confident that the attack would work, though it seemed likely that civilian casualties in the town would be high if the mercenaries decided to take the Diggledom civilians hostage. If the enemy navy got involved things could get worse quickly to prevent this submarines were trailing the two nearest Novajevian navy ships and all the Finetooth submarines were prepared to launch SLMRASM-2’s towards any ships that made a hostile move towards the fleet.

OOC: Kilrany suggested to me through e-mail that I get involved here, and rather than deploying my own forces, it was suggested that I control a Mercenary element just to provide more "variety of command" in the merc forces than just Kilrany himself.
For the record, my nation is just to the East of Novajev, and since no Russkyan citizens are currently vacationing on Novajev, I have no real reason to get involved militarily unless you fellows make one huge mess in the Central Sea that the Politburo feels obligated to help clean up before the Me'ei get real antsy. If you're wondering, Me'i is much like the PRC, the Me'ei (Think of it this way: Me'i = China, Me'ei = Chinese) tending to be isolationist but on occassion, like with massive foreign intervention near home, they become rather... prickly, over their national waters and the like.

Many mercenary forces tend to have an extremely international composition, most famously the French Foreign Legion, which brags it can draw on the experience of nearly every country on the planet. For mercenary groups that do not have the support structure of the FFL, their cosmopolitan nature can cause issues with command and control, unit cohesion, combat effectiveness, and morale.

This however is not the case with the SFR's own leading regional "Security Contracting Corporation," known as Red Stone Paramilitary Security Services, abbreviated as RSPSS and often just referred to as "Red Stone." The reasons for this are simple; despite their international manpower base, all employees of Red Stone are fluent in English, submit to an extensive retraining process that builds upon existing training and often replaces inferior tactics, depending on where the employee in question was drawn from, are highly organized, dedicated professionals who are never deployed on operations of "moral ambiguity" or the so-called "suicide missions." Well supported by a number of regional national governments (for the simple reason that many former soldiers of those nation's militaries find continuing employment with Red Stone rather than attempting to reenter civilian life), the well funded company finds itself rarely short of work and able to deploy large forces which can rightfully claim a high measure of combat effectiveness.

On Novajev, the Red Stone force hired by the Novajevan Admiral Ekster consisted of a reinforced platoon referred to as "Fireforce," operating in an airmobile role very similar to that of the Rhodesian Fireforce commandos during their bush war. Like Red Stone in general, "Fireforce" demonstrated its international nature with a number of Australians, Britishers, Canadians, South Africans, Rhodesians, Russians, Germans, Norwegians, Frenchmen, Spazjenians, Russkyans, Strolenkans, and Spazjenians. Like the more numerous mercenaries of the forces already on Novajev, Red Stone also employed a number of FLRJ men, solely from the Republican side of the conflict, often from one Viktor Morozov's "Brigada Volkov," or Wolf's Brigade in English. Many of the aging Afrikaaners and Rhodesians found themselves training their fellows in Red Stone, but a handful were still able to meet the "Combat Standard" with ease and thus found themselves still afield.

Men such as Piet Mannorst, a South African formerly of 61 Mechanized Battalion and the Recces, and John Wixley, formerly of the formidable Rhodesian Selous Scouts. Mannorst, already dressed in his battered olive-drab South African Assault Vest and toting his umbiquitous HK-416 carbine, welcomed his Rhodesian colleague with a hearty "Pamwe Chete!" as Wixley climbed aboard the uparmoured URAL-4320. Settling back on the sandbagged floor of the loadbed, Wixley smiled and returned his old unit's motto, adding that of the Recce's. The two men, oldest of the eight-man section known as One Section, First Platoon, "Fireforce Detatchment," adjusted their mottled green and brown combat uniforms, and the tactical slings that each used to carry his assault weapon, for both men the German HK-416, bought directly from Heckler und Koch.
The others on the truck consisted of Adam Warricker, a Canadian who'd opted to serve with the British Royal Marine Commandos rather than the Canadian military, who had been dubbed "Bootneck," and a Norwegian known as Karl Ehms, with the rather strange personal history of having joined the Royal Netherlands Marine Corps after his year of national service with his homeland's military, served four years, then joined the Royal Marine Commandos and served a further two years, and somehow along the way had learnt to speak his English with the distinctive "Glasgow growl" of the Glaswegian Scottish accent. This of course had earned him the nickname "Mac."
The other four men of One Section, comprising the second sub-section / fireteam, were all from the FLRJ, a tight-knit bunch fresh from their retraining cycle at Red Stone GHQ, all combat veterans from Brigada Volkov. All riflemen toted HK-416 carbines, the eight-man section had available to it one South African SS-77 GPMG with the "Mini" kit installed to fire 5.56x45mm ammunition, and a FN-MAG/58, more correctly the British derivative, known as the L7A1. The "Gimpy" was the only one of its kind in the platoon at the moment, the other GPMG roles being taken by the standard SS-77, firing the same 7.62x51mm NATO round.

The uparmouring on the URAL 4320 consisted simply of sandbagged flooring, three layers deep, shatterproof glass, removal of the rollbars and the loadbed's canvas cover. As soon as Wixley had climbed aboard, one of the veterans of Brigada Volkov smacked the roof of the cab twice and the truck rolled out of the gate of their base, where several Mi-17 helicopters and two Mi-24s were stationed. Their objective was to pass through to the nearest town, round up any foreign tourists, and bring them back to their staging area near "Travoro Airfield" where they would then be airlifted off the island to Red Stone GHQ/3 in Russkya, from which they'd board civilian airliners back to their nations of origin. Unless, as Mac had dryly observed earlier in the SMESCS briefing, to the sure delight of the Russkyan Tourist Board, they decided to extend their vacations in that nation.

"Five minutes to the objective, Mac!" Warricker called out over the noise of the engine, as Ehms appeared to rest his chin on his chest for a few moments of sleep. Glancing at his watch before letting the green elastic cover the watchface again, Ehms noted the time.
09.20 Local.

RNS Europa, International Waters, Kilrany/Me'I Strait, 500 kilometres Southeast of Novajev

The Army Special Forces soldiers had taken to life aboard the Europa quite well, opting to follow much of the advice of the platoon-sized ARMC Maritime Security Detachment in conditioning oneself to the life at sea. Colonel England spent most of his time on their short journey speaking with Captain Bruebaker and the officer's command staff either in the ship's Command Information Centre or in one of the many meeting/briefing rooms. The carrier's aviation assets were to be one of the most important elements in the conduct of the mission to Novajev, the helicopters for battlefield mobility and the fixed-wing Cormorants and Deacons for the strike missions which were sure to come in support of the troopers.

The discovery of the surface-to-air systems on the island was most disturbing to the operational planners, as it severely limited the initial landfall deployment and mobility afterwards, and thus was made the priority target for elimination in the first phase of the operation. Commander Willam Heinsburg, the ship's Air Wing Commanding Officer or Air Boss, was less than pleased with having to commit his valuable aircraft to the duty of hunting air defence units, much to the disgruntlement of the Marines and Special Forces soldiers, who were dependent on the free usage of the air above the area of operations in order to complete their mission. Colonel England and Commander Heinsburg spent a few evenings arguing with one another loudly in the briefing rooms.

The ordinance specialists in their usualy red jackets and helmets, began sorting the necessary weapons for the coming operations. The fact that the carrier had been undergoing a shakedown cruise meant that it was short on the usual compliment of weaponry and until supply runs could be made by Navy Greyhound transports, the aviators would have to make due with what was available to them on board. The majority of the available munitions included a great number of cluster bombs and and older, laser-guided bombs in place of the modern satellite-guided munitions such as guided bombs or stand-off dispensers. This fact worried the Heinsburg even more, as it meant that aircraft would have to attack at a much closer range and place them under the coverage of the air defence systems.

Despite the current setbacks, the carrier and the accompanying Army personnel and Marines would be prepared for the coming mission to Novajev, codenamed "OPERATION: SWIFT CAUSE" by Central Command's J-3 Officer.

OOC: Just a quick post for now, I will be posting my deployment onto the island in my next post. Nice to see you again, Russkya, when Kirany told me you would be handling a contingent of mercs, I knew I would have to step things up a level or two to keep my people alive.

Good hunting, this will be fun.

Novajav


The lead fighter escort was the first to pick up the incoming SAMs.

''All aircraft, numerous SAM missiles inbound, deploy chaffs.''

The aircraft began deploying chaffs but it was too late. A lone missile struck a fighter aircraft, blowing it to pieces. The pilot didn't have a chance. Soon the sky was filled with bright red balls of light and exploding missiles. From the ground it would look like fireworks, but in the air, deadly pieces of flaming wreckage proved that this was no show of fireworks. The planes attempted to turn around but due to the volume of missiles, despite the chaffs they were struck and brought down.

Orbath

Back at home, people were worried. The families of the soldiers had received word that the aircraft had been shot down. Although the President had wanted to keep the operation secret, he had no choice but to make an announcement, before rumors began to spread. He had his driver take him to the Orbathian News Network station, a mere couple blocks from his office. In minutes he was on t.v., broadcasting a message to the nation.

''Today is an extremely sad day for us all. Less than an hour ago, a air wing was shot down over Novajev. The air wing had been deployed to drop paratroopers into the nation, which is under the control of a rebel army, to rescue ten Orbathain civilians who have no way out of the country. The wing alerted enemy air stations that it was a friendly peacekeeping mission and that they only wanted to rescue their people. The rebels choose to fire anyway. From what we know, all aircraft we shot down. We will be able to look at satellite images in roughly three hours, when our satellites are over Novajev. With these we will look for survivors and plan our next move.''

For the time being, Orbath would strike quietly. They would not underestimate the enemy again.

Message to Diggledom:

We would like to request permission to land a few helicopters on your ships for refueling, before continuing into Novajev. We are sending soldiers to rescue trapped civilians.

OOC: Do you want me to write up the missiles hitting or do you want to sort out those casualties? I didn't want to do it incase it was percieved as god modding. I can write up a post if you want? But LG cruise missiles are usually quite accurate, so it seems reasonable to assume they would destroy their targets? Up to you. I will write up a big post tonight but then I am off on exercise for a few days, arriving back late wed night GMT.

OOC Thread (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=12994786#post12994786)

I've decided to create the OOC thread, bit late, but there it is. Orbath, I will work on a reply now, Diggledom, I have a reply to continue the situation at the battery, but I had sent you a TG to clarify a few things before I finished it up. From this point on I'll use the OOC thread for such questions.

Addtionally, Russkya had a chance to preview that reply and from his post I guess he didn't realise I hadn't actually posted it yet as I was awaiting your reply to my TG. I'll just add on a small responce to Orbath and then post my initial reply to your designating the air defense battery.[/I]

Due to their communications blackout, which had not yet been lifted, those on Novajev were oblivious to the news broadcast being made by the Orbath President; this blackout was soon to change however. In the meantime though status reports and orders were moving up and down the Novajev Army’s chain of command, concern grew in the Novajev commanders over the situation.

In an attempt to soothe the situation, a mercenary platoon was quickly assembled and they commandeered a number of civilian vessels, from a few civilian-fishing boats to pleasure cruiser to head out and pick up any survivors in the water on the West Coast. While the survivors were to be treated well, they would be disarmed and still considered prisoners for the time being.

Additional orders were given to reactivate the island’s communications network, Ekster intent was to attempt to raise the Orbath government and arrange a transfer of the Orbath survivors and any of their citizens on the island in order to diffuse the situation. Though had he known yet of the newly developing situation on the Northeast coast, he would have realized that it might not be enough anymore. It was expect to take a day to get the network re-initialized and to have a message sent off to Orbath to discuss the current state of affairs.

-----

Inside the SA-17 battery command vehicle, which was little more then a MTLB with a small overhead weapons station armed with a PKT, which was partially dug into the ground, Leonid Meitus put his hand to his mouth as he yawned, he was approaching the end of his shift watching the repeater screens displaying the feed from the battery’s surveillance radar and those of the six TELAR. Seated next to him in the small compartment was his backup, Virko Lysenko who was watching his own repeater screen which displayed the same image Leonid saw.

A moment later Virko yawned in turn, attempting to suppress it as he attempted to speak, “You bastard, I was doing fine until you had to yawn.”

Leonid smiled and grunted in amusement, though whatever he was about to say was lost when a shrill warbling alarm sounded inside the armoured vehicle. They both snapped their heads towards the source of the noise, the display receiver of the vehicle’s laser warning system, somewhere on the outer hull of the vehicle a small dot of brilliant illumination was dancing, though they didn’t know yet whether it was a rangefinder, designator, or the target point for a beam riding missile, all of which the system was capable of passively detecting.

Virko was out of his seat in a flash and checking the readout of LWS, which displayed for him the type of beams it was detecting along with the general direction they were coming from, as the system was capable of reporting up to seven threats. Without hesitation Leonid’s finger smashed down on a transmit key, first to alert the other soldiers of the battery and the defending infantrymen, the second to alert his command that they were being designated.

Before Leonid had even finished transmitting the second warning, Virko had shifted positions once again to sit in front of the command station of the vehicles overhead weapon station which he quickly started to warm up. He waited several seconds before he began to track the station towards the direction of where the beams were coming from in order to give the men outside a moment to take cover before alerting whoever it was out there that they were on to them.

Leonid quickly dialed in a few commands, which sent an order to the surveillance radar vehicle immediately boosting the power output of the radar system since he currently saw no threats on his screen. Since a laser was designating them, to him this meant they were either about to be hit by a guided weapon dropped from a stealth aircraft, or it was a cruise missile strike.

At 0920 the sun was already well on its way over the horizon and the SA-17 battery looked rather serene, though this was about to change drastically. The layout of the battery was rather simple, most of the vehicles had been partially dug into the ground, as were the tents being used by the vehicle crews who were not currently on shift, though these would provide only a minimal amount of protection. Around the compass edges of the battery however were four slit trenches, one for each fire team of the two infantry sections guarding the battery, and while half their numbers were asleep for resting, the other half of each fire team was either standing up in the trench looking about, or casually walking the perimeter.

It would be these four men walking the perimeter who would be the first sign that something was up, while their comrades were quickly and quietly grabbing their weapons from the relative safety of their tents or slit trenches. These men were out in the open, and having no desire to die, they sprinted the short distance to their respective slit trench and dropped down inside shortly upon hearing the message over the radio in their ear that they were being targeted.

As they were dropping in Virko swiveled the OWS around and fired a four second long burst in the general direction of the of the Diggledom team, though he didn’t know their exact location or who they really were, his intent was to try and force them to stop designating them by causing them to fight or take flight. Moments after the PKT opened fire, the infantry sections popped their heads up out of their trenches and added their own gunfire to the fray with short bursts towards areas where they thought someone might be able to hide and use a designator.

While not all of them were in a position to open fire, at least two trenches would be able to, and each section was comprised of the following, one gunner with an M240, two automatic riflemen with FN Minimis, a medic with an M4, a designated marksman with a specialized variant of the M4, and five rifleman with M4s, of which two had attached M203 launchers. Adding to their threat were the vehicle crews who had since left their tents and were now using their vehicles for cover, scanning the area for a target to shoot at.

To make things worse for the Diggledom team, a gunner in one of the Tunguskas, having no desire to die himself, rotated the turret around, bringing the vehicles twin 30mm autocannons with their high explosive rounds to bear and looked for a target to fire upon.

-----

Farther out on the water, the two Diggledom submarines had gone unnoticed for the time being, though to keep up with the Novajev vessels they would have to be doing fifteen knots, and while being in the baffles of the ship in question would prevent them from hearing the submarine, it did not preclude the other ships from hearing the louder noise of their engines trailing behind one of their comrades. The longer they remained, the greater the odds of their detection grew.

OOC: I leave this next post open to you Diggledom to take action for your SF team, after which I will RP the strike on the battery according to your actions. I will need to know roughly how many shells your shipboard artillery fired, how far out you fired from and the general direction you’re firing from, in order to RP this properly. Also, Russkya’s last post, post number 71 as it stands right now should have followed this post, not preceded it, so his team in an Mi-17 is on it’s way.

The Orbathain recon satellites had moved into position. Intelligence Officers were working hard, printing pictures and analyzing what was going on. It appeared at first, that the rebel army was stealing boats, but then, images of people being plucked out of the water showed that they were actually rescuing survivors. The problem was, the intelligence officers didn't know if they were rescuing them or capturing them. Although they couldn't tell, they assumed that survivors would be taken somewhere to be interrogated and maybe even tortured or killed. The satellite also showed the position of any SAMs that were not hidden. Military Officers began looking for targets of value, in case the nation went to war. They also sent a message to Kilrany.

To: Kilrany

We would like permission to land a few helicopters at a base in your nation for refueling, before moving on to Novajev.

09.37 Local Time, Novajev
Ehms and Warricker jumped down off the back of the truck, Warricker's Mini SS-77 intimidating with the "fieldmod" canvas ammunition bag clipped under the reciever, holding a hefty hundred rounds of linked 5.56x45mm SS-109 ammunition; NATO standard. The HK-416 Ehms carried sported a C-79A2 "ELCAN" optic and a AG-36 underbarrel grenade launcher, the 40mm HEDP, smoke-marker, flare, and canister ammunition weighting down the grenade pouches of his vest.

They were joined by the rest of the section, which split into its subsections and walked up both sides of the street in a loose column. The two groups were versed in what they termed FISH and CHIPS; acronyms meaning Fighting In Someone's House and Causing Havoc In People's Streets, respectively. In other words, FIBUA. Being on both sides of the street allowed each subsection team to cover the other's "topside," the roofs above them that they would not be able to cover without leaving an exposed arc lower down.

The Rhodesian knocked on a door, politely calling out in English for the foreign nationals inside. At the moment, they had no idea whose nationals they were; only that they were not indigenous to the island of Novajev and thus were slated for evacuation. After the knock, he stepped to one side of the door so should some overly nervous civilian fire through the heavy door, he would not be struck by the projectile or shrapnel. One subsection provided local security and the other was stacked up outside the door, ready to burst inside if required - for instance, if this house contained instead of frightened civilians, a militia element. Over their personal role radios, Mannorst informed the unit of the news that Two and Three Sections had deployed afield in full-on "Fireforce" role.

09.22 Local Time, Novajev, 35 metres altitude, 175 knots airspeed.
"Moss, test."
"Clear."
"Novikov, test."
"Clear."
"O'Hallahan, test."
"Clear."
Inside the troop-bay of the large Mi-17 troop transport helicopter, the crashed-out rifle sections of Fireforce tested their PRR equipment, checked chamber, and ensured magazines were firmly seated in the magazine well before settling back, muzzle to decking, to wait for their ride to end. The crew-chief, flightsuit rippling in the downdraft coming in through the open side hatch, held up a hand, fingers spread. Five minutes to LZ the gesture said.

They'd been crashed out in a hundred and twenty seconds from getting the alarm call, as per their doctrine. This meant that instead of the normal quiet inside the helicopter as men sat on the web-and-frame seats with weapon muzzles against the deck, men fastened assault vests, webbing gear, adjusted headwear, and tightened gloves on flexing hands. On the jog from their section bays to the helicopters, they'd recieved the quick SMESCS briefing:
Situation - Presumed enemy force illuminating air-defence battery which is now on alert and coordinating with aviation and Fireforce assets. Local situation and intelligence unchanged, no further intelligence available.
Mission - Respond to alert call from air-defence battery and secure area by all means nessecary.
Execution - Insert via airmobile asset (Mi-17) to threatened area, conduct air-assault landing under cover of two Mi-24 assault helicopters. Combat patrols to secure area. Extraction via airmobile asset when operation complete. No. 4 Battery (120mm Mortar x5) standing by, Fireforce QRF has priority of fires from No. 4 Bat.
Support - No. 4 Battery, 120mm Mortar (Five. HE-FRAG, Airburst HE-FRAG, Illumination, Smoke, Chemical [CS Gas]). Priority of fire assigned.
November Flight, 2 Mi-24 (AT-6, 80mm FFAR, 57mm FFAR, 12.7x108mm)
Hotel-Foxtrot-2, 1 Mi-17 (57mm FFAR, AGS-17, 7.62x54R)
Command and Signals - Conventional command chain applies, signals as per SOP (Current Date). All men to carry 24hr water & ration supply, basic battle load of ammunition (all types inc. extraneous as smoke canister, flare, etc.), night optical devices and individual field aid (trauma) package.

Aboard the helicopter, a Russkyan by the name of Novikov chewed gum, offered a stick to the Australian, Moss. Calm brought on by experience prevented adrenaline from surging into his bloodstream at this early stage, though he knew if this wasn't a false alarm he'd soon find the familiar sensation filling him rapidly. Moss rocked his FN-MAG/58's bipod from side to side, happy to be carrying nearly three hundred rounds of link, every fifth round in the loaded "action belt" of fifty rounds a tracer.

OOC: Aequatio, likewise. I am hoping that Fireforce does not run into any men from the Aequatian Republic, since you're generally very good about "Haha bitch, 500lb LGB to the FACE." I'm sure this'll affect diplomacy somehow. I'm sure your gov't is well aware of mine's noninterventionist policies. Edit: My bad, posted too soon. Issue resolved now.

Austen had just managed to wriggle into place behind his rifle when the machine gin opened fire, the four second burst shredding the branches at chest height. While none of the rounds hit the soldiers they were all covered in wood chips and small pieces of greenery loosed by the fusillade. He quickly pulled his rifle up into his shoulder, guiding the cross hairs towards the gunner on top of the command vehicle, he had a perfect shot lined up, the cross hair lined up just below the mans throat when his PRR squawked,
“Hold your fire, let them think we have bugged out, give them thirty seconds before firing a couple of rounds and relocating. Fire and maneuver. Phil and Luke moved the MG fifty to the right then give them a couple of bursts. Move.”

Austen lowered the rifle slightly, aiming at the side of the van instead of the top. He pulled the trigger, firing one of the 20mm anti-material rounds into the side of the van, if the fuses worked they would hit the side of the van, flick through the lightweight metal and explode on the inside, hopefully covering the inside in shrapnel. As soon as the first one hit he thumbed another round into the chamber and fired again.

-----

Further down the line, nearly 60 meters from where Austen was firing his ‘anti-material beast’ Philip was bedding the bipod for his D-MMG-4, a massive 50 round belt already in place. Unlike normal Diggledom SOP each fifth round was armor piercing instead of tracer. Luke lifted the belt slightly to ensure a good feed, and then winced as Philip started firing. As he fired the brass flicked out from underneath the weapons body and the links fired out from the right. He fired two short bursts at the nearest trench, flicking dirt into the air as the rounds sliced along the lip, but he figured it was unlikely he would actually hit any of the men in the trench. Then he noticed that the Tunguska turret had lowered and was pointing in the rough direction of the rest of the team. He moved the machine gun barrel and fired a longer burst towards the vehicle before pulling himself back into the trees. One of the men in the trenches must have realised where he had been firing from because just as he was moving backwards a burst of 5.56 slashed through where he had been firing. It missed Philip but one shot glanced off a tree and smacked into the center of Luke’s chest, slamming him to the floor. The round had expended most of its force on the tree but maintaining enough to smack into his personal armor hard enough to knock him over.

The Tunguska’s turret swiveled towards the machine guns position and fired a brief burst from the 30mm cannons. This time they did more damage, instead of simply hitting the trees and lodging in the trunks they ripped through the trunks, felling a few of the smaller trees but the main damage was done by two rounds that hit Philip, one in the chest and the other just below his right hip. The round that hit his chest hit the body armor, went straight through it and slashed into his chest, shredding his lungs and heart. The round that hit his leg all but severed it, leaving it attached only by a shred of flesh.

“Philip is dead. I say again, Philip is dead.” Luke shouted into the radio, covered in his friends blood.

“Get down! We have seconds before the weapons hit. Duck and cover!” The reply came back across the radio. Luke curled into a ball before the world seemed to shake as the rounds started to impact.

-----

The 2 dual D-ANGS-2 cannons on both the Gallant and the Infallible fell silent, having fired 24 shells at the shore, to land seconds before the four cruise missiles hit. The fleet was only 60km from the shore and was movingly slowly towards the shore. The two minutes flight time for the cruise missiles was almost up and already the DPT-1 ‘Wagtail’ was flying towards the coast, ready to extract the team.

Onboard the Dauntless a pair of DWF-4 ‘Spoonbill’ CAS fighters had just taken off to provide cover for the extraction.

-----

Diplomatic Communiqué

To: Orbathian government
From: Amanda Ethridge

Message

We are mounting our own rescue program on Novajev. If you want we could attempt to work together to end this situation. If you don’t wish to mount a combined operation you can still land your helicopters, though we will need advance warning of their arrival times, the size and type of the force.

-----

Diplomatic Communiqué

To: Pavel Kasatikin
From: Amanda Ethridge

Message
Diggledom Special Forces are presently in the north east of Novajev conducting a mission. This information is given to live up to our promise to inform you of any actions that take place on Novajev territory.

The Mi-17 carrying the sixteen-man strong "Fireforce" flitted in low at maximum speed, a scant two metres from treetop height. In the back, the Fireforce men undid safety belts and glanced forward at the crewchief who bent back from the FN-MAG/58 GPMG he'd strapped to the top of the side hatch to give them the "One Minute to LZ" signal. Hands tightened on weapons and the troops rocked forwards onto the balls of their feet, barely touching the seats, ready to go.

Swinging slightly in the firm grip of the crewchief, the FN-MAG/58's gas cylinder dial was adjusted to allow the weapon a ROF of 1,600 RPMs. A long belt of a hundred rounds of link, every round a tracer, dangled from the reciever and led into the metal ammunition tray clipped alongside the door. The flight helmet the crewchief wore allowed him to overhear the intercom-borne discussion between the gunner and pilot up in the "front office," and then the aircraft banked hard to the left. Through the portholes and open door, the men aboard could see the smoke of a firefight just in time to watch the position disappear in a shroud of flame, expanding gases, thrown dirt and shredded foliage flung high into the air. The helicopter rocked, caught by the outside edges of the expanding circle of overlapping concussion rings.

On topcover, the pair of Mi-24s dropped from their altitude of 150 meters to strafe the last estimated position of the attacking force with 80mm rockets. Lowering his collective, the Mi-17 pilot timed his touchdown on the designated LZ just to the South - well, 450 meters away and through dense brush - of the enemy contact, hovering a meter off the ground with his nose oriented East to allow the crewchief's weapon on the left hatch to have a useful fire-arc. He held his fire, holding the weapon up and to the side to allow a brace of Fireforce men to rush past him, drop into the downwash-swaying grasses, and sprint away from the helicopter for five seconds each before diving prone and getting behind ready to fire weapons. The clamshell rear doors closed, and those men of Red Stone were already on the ground and in their outwards-facing defensive circle as the helicopter lifted off and began its orbit 2.0km out.

Moss brought the working parts of his FN-MAG/58 to the rear by pulling back on the charging handle. He let go, and a 7.62x51mm round fed into the breech with a reassuring metallic "thunk." At the behest of Novikov's call on the PRR, he rose to his knees with his loader, who had several more belts of 'link' in ammunition cans in his assault bag. Bracing the weapon's stock at his hip and letting the belt drape across the upper of his bent leg for clear feeding, he watched as Fireforce men moved forwards, to the North. Then it was his turn to move as the first subsection stopped and covered his element. With three other men, Moss rose and walked forward rapidly in a hunched over kind of way, avoiding brush that would snag on his clothing and give away his position, settling down 50m ahead of the team that had just completed their move.

Thus began the simple dance of "Advancing to Contact." The other Fireforce section began a long looping flanking manouevre to bring them hopefully far to the side of the enemy element, between them and the nearest coast. Upon completing this move, they'd turn "inwards" and act as the blocking element, letting the element with Novikov and Moss conduct the sweep. The Mi-24s remained on station.

“Good afternoon sir, how was lunch?”

Kilrany Foreign Affairs Minister Pavel Kasatikin looked towards his secretary as he came in the door, “Pretty good Mikhail, that new little restaurant down the street is pretty good after all. Any messages?”

From his desk his secretary made a quick double check of a small notepad before his replied, “No phone calls, but a Fifth courier dropped off a package for your sir, it’s in on your desk.”

An interested look came across Kasatikin’s face, Wonder what they have for me today, “Thank you Mikhail.”

A few minutes later the minister was sitting behind his desk inside his private office, the package that had been dropped off was fairly simple, within it contained two dossiers, each one contained a recently received message from a the nations of Orbath and Diggledom. Included with each message was brief write up by 5th Division intelligence detailing their stance on the subject.

He grunted in amusement at their response to the two messages, he often thought that he had this job solely to put a more diplomatic spin on their rather blunt stance. After a few minutes of considering his words, he began to put together some responses.

-----

Sealed Diplomatic Communication
To: Orbath

With all due respect, we must decline your request. The Kilrany Empire does not grant passage of military aircraft from non-allied nations into its national airspace. Nor do we condone any overt actions taken against the Novajev Republic at this time.

Kilrany foreign affairs minister
Pavel Kasatikin

-----

Sealed Diplomatic Communication
To: Amanda Ethridge

We acknowledge that you have chosen to take action against the Novajev military, though at this time we believe this action to be unnecessary and do not condone it, we only hope this does not cause a danger to foreign citizens caught in the middle.

Kilrany foreign affairs minister
Pavel Kasatikin

-----

From the relative safety of the internal cabin of the MTLB command vehicle, Virko continued to fire short bursts from PKT armed overhead weapon station, of which he controlled from the OWS’ command station inside the vehicle. For the defenders there was a decided lack of return fire at first, which initially led them to believe that perhaps they had indeed fallen back, that was belief was shattered however when a 20mm AMR round smashed trough the relatively flimsy armour of the MTLB, the resulting small explosion killed Virko outright and severely wounded Leonid with shrapnel.

While their fire had been beginning to die down, they renewed it with increased ferocity when the Diggledom team opened fire themselves, though now they added their M203 grenades to the fray. A mercenary Sergeant’s curse as he found out two of him men in one of the trenches went down was drowned out as the gunner in the Tunguska fired off his vehicle’s gun system, raking his fire through the terrain and unleashing over a hundred and fifty high explosive shells per two second long bursts. Their fire would soon die down however.

-----

Ten kilometers off the Novajev coast, due East of Travoro and heading South, the Kalash would be the first Novajev unit to spot the cruise missiles on approach as it continued its patrol of the coast, once again headed South, though the Diggledom fleet was beyond the horizon, and thus outside their field of view beyond what ELINT told them in relation to the Diggledom’s radar and communications emissions.

Their response was swift as time was of the essence, although they didn’t know the target for the missiles, they sent a warning indicating they had detected them inbound. Orders were given and the ship increased speed to twenty knots and came back around North by turning towards the island, thus increasing the time the missiles would be in their field of fire.

As the four cruise missiles began to pass within three kilometers to the front of the Kalash, the ship’s fire control radar painted the multiple targets and a button was pushed. In rapid succession forward of the ship’s bridge, four SA-15 surface to air missiles rippled off from their vertical launch tubes. A cold fire launch system thumped the missiles up and a gas-dynamic maneuvering system aligned them towards their targets at which point their solid fuel rocket motors quickly pushed the missiles past mach two.

Due however to the speed of the cruise missiles, their direction of travel, the range of engagement and the oblique angle the SA-15s had to work with, only the first SAM found its mark, obliterating the cruise missile with its fifteen kilogram warhead.

In its current the position the Kalash was a direct threat to any low flying aircraft bound of the North East coast, however it was not the only one. Just like on the West side of the island, multiple SA-17 batteries provided interlocking fields of fire on the East side.

-----

Back at the Northeast battery the 155mm shells came as a complete surprise to the mercenary soldiers firing their weapons at their perceived enemy, though they were quick to seek what cover they could. Despite this many of the vehicle crews who had been using their vehicles for cover fell prey to the shrapnel and concussive effects of the artillery barrage, the three cruise missiles which followed didn’t help matters. Had it not been for the disabling of the battery’s command vehicle and the distraction created by both the Diggledom soldiers and the artillery strike, it was unlikely the cruise missile strike would have succeeded given the presence of the Tunguska systems.

As it was the artillery destroyed two of the SA-17 TELAR outright, and the subsequent cruise missiles obliterated the surveillance radar, the disabled command vehicle; also killing a severely wounded Leonid, and killed one of the two Tunguska systems. Though not destroyed, the other TELAR did not come out of the barrage unscathed as the shrapnel from the artillery barrage damaged them as much as it did the exposed crew. Nearly all the missiles exposed on the firing racks were taken out of commission by the shrapnel, insider their launch vehicles their warning lights came on, indicating there were problems, though in some vehicles there was no longer a crewman left alive to see it, as the shrapnel from the 155mm shell slashed through the relatively light armour with ease.

This did however leave the infantry sections that had taken cover in their slit trenches very much alive and very angry. Their ranking Sergeant had to give a direct order for them to stay in their trenches and make sure the site was secure, he had heard the sound of the friendly helicopters before the strike had hit, he knew their were friendly forces out there looking to engage the hostile force, now he was more concerned with the wounded.

((OOC: My appologies if I am slowing down some aspects of the thread.))

The low orbitting sattelite sat just inside the outer edge of earth's atmosphere, it would take 20 minutes for the satellite to reach its location and create the link between the Wasp and the Kilrany base. In that short time the Island republic of Novajev became a warzone...

Midship, KSB Wasp
"Yes ma'am; according to what we know aircraft inbound from the west were shot down by the occupying forces. Shortly after cruise missiles struck the battery that fired upon the aircraft... several vessels are inbound toward the area that the planes were attacked and it seems like all hell is breaking loose on Novajev."
Heart did not like the Lt.'s briefing one bit, in fact she liked it less than the fact that she still had not gotten any sleep since they had embarked on this damned mission. "And what the fuck are we supposed to do!"
"Ma'am?" the young officer looked puzzled at her reaction.
"Nevermind... we need eyes on that island ASAP."
"Captain Duke has already ordered the Prometheus drone be assembled and launched to check out the situation."
"What about command? Does command know?"
"Yes ma'am, we were sending a transmission to command as I was sent to retrieve you from your quarters."
She merely nodded, she wanted to shout...

Command Bridge, KSB Wasp
The green light indicating that the sattelite was in place blinked on, then suddenly off again and Chris frowned; then tapped the instrument panel with the tip of his finger, the light blinked back to life and stayed put. Thats better.
"This is KSB Wasp calling back into Kilrany base, do you copy Kilrany base?"

100 km off the Coast of Novajev
Prometheus, a UAV, made his way toward the coast of Novajev in a straight course due northwest, if the weather didn't push him too far off he'd reach the southern central coast within the hour and begin to transmit data back to the control room onboard the Wasp. Upon closing within 75 kilometers of the island the drone was pre programmed to decrease elevation to a mere 3 meters off the surface of the ocean, the technicians hoped that this would allow the valuable and delicate tool to come in under radar coverage. The current mission was simply to fly in close and remain just off the coast gathering picture data and scanning the island with its 5 km range radar. Int he current weather conditions the UAV would only be able to continue for 36 hours total flight time so the current mission was scheduled to last 16 hours. As a precaution the control crew had Prometheus measure the hieght of the waves in preperation for his descent.

Message To Diggledom:

We would be delighted to mount a combined operation. As I send this, 4 Platoons, ( 48 Combat Troops) of the Orbathian Air Calvary are on the way. They will be riding in 5 Blackhawk helicopters. Estimated time of arrival is in about 4 hours. I hope this is not a problem.

RNS Europa, International Waters, Kilrany/Me'I Strait, 300 kilometres East of Novajev

Captain Bruebaker, Commander Heinsburg and Colonel England and his S-3 Officer, Major Joseph Handel had spent a good amount of time overlooking satellite images, provided by the generous use of a Navy "Looking Glass" low-orbit surveillance satellite, of the Novajev Area of Operations and deciding on the method of infiltration the Special Forces unit, named Task Force Red, and avoiding detection and interdiction by the mercenary forces already established on the island.

Task Force Red consisted of three, twelve-man Operation Detachments, Alpha, which would make up the force's main combat element, a single twelve-man Operation Detachment, Bravo, which would provide support to the Alpha Teams and Colonel England's Operational Detachment, Charlie, which was the headquarters element on the ground and contained a number of specialist officers for supporting operations. While the force would have a number of additional units provided to them from both the Army and Air Force, the current situation meant that their support would come from the combined Navy/Marine Corps team aboard the Europa and the Aequatian understanding of the importance of being 'purple' would definitely shine forth.

The four senior officers and their underling staffs had been working from one of the aviation briefing rooms in their discussion of the coming operation. Major Handel presented the others with the projected image of the island on the screen as he spoke, "The satellite images provided by the Naval Strategic Surveillance and Reconnaissance Command have been most useful in establishing what we believe are the most concentrated positions concerning the mercenary forces on Novajev," He used a hand-held laser pointer as he drew the bead down the centre of the map, "As best we can tell, the understrength brigade has been divided into two areas of responsibility, East and West, each one receiving a reinforced mechanized/motorized infantry battalion, plus aviation assets, as best we can determine, to be in company-size. Artillery assets can count for at least a composite battery of howitzers and mortars located perhaps in the North, and most certainly capable of striking almost anywhere on the island."

"What can we expect from their air defence network," Asked Commander Heinsburg who was still overtly concerned for his pilots and aircraft, "I need to be made aware of the air threats over Novajev before I can begin planning any operations with the Carrier's Air Wing."

The major frowned as he set the laser pointer down, "We are not entirely sure of the threat that the mercenary forces pose, although it has been determined that they possess no fixed-wing aircraft, thanks to the coverage given of the exposed airfields. Although we can expect the air defence weapons to include medium and short-range surface-to-air missile systems, including those nasty Grizzlies we saw and perhaps even Gremlin or Grouse man-portable systems, we are also not counting out any air defence artillery along the lines of 23mm cannons, given what we've seen of the force's heavy equipment."

"Captain, I don't feel that we can fully deploy any aircraft from this ship until we are sure of the threat on the island and that it can be neutralized," Said the commander as he turned to Bruebaker, "We cannot afford to lose our aircraft because we aren't sure of the threat."

The captain nodded as he turned to Handel, "Agreed, I wish to have a more in-depth report on their air defence capabilities before we fully commit the Air Wing. Until then, only the RQ-20A Shades will be sent up for your intelligence collection, that is all for now, I have other duties to perform."

"Understood, captain," Replied the operations officer as he stepped down from the podium and the image of the map disappeared from the screen. He walked over to the Colonel, who was gathering his things as the others prepared to leave, "Don, christ, it's important we get on the ground as quickly as possible, speak with Bruebaker and make it clear--"

"Joe, the skipper's right," The colonel interrupted as he fixed his uniform's material after standing, "There's no use of trying anything yet until we have the big picture of what's on that island, I would much prefer having a chance to make it to that island. You remember those Air Force tests of the Russian systems, the Grizzly slayed everything Army aviation had to offer, we wait and let the Navy do their job so we can do ours."

The major released a short sigh as he agreed with what the colonel had to say before they both made their way out into the corridor and rejoined the rest of their unit in the billeted quarters.

----------

At the port launch catapult, with the permission of the V-1 Division teams, Sergeant First Class Keller, Task Force Red's chief Weapons Specialist, had created a live fire zone for the personnel to ready their weapons and test some of the newer pieces they had received prior to their deployment. Although resupply had been considered something of a difficulty in the initial briefings, the weapons were retained in their original form and continued to use their Aequatian ammunition in place of the NATO standard munitions available to the mercenaries.

One of the new pieces was the Republic Armaments Company LMG-45 light machinegun, using a modified receiver from the Fabrique Nationale Minimi and cut down in weight and complexity, the designers at RAC had created one of the most compact light machinegun to ever serve in the Aequatian military. Originally designed to fire the 6.5mm copper-jacketed round, a few were modified by request of the company, to have the weapons accept the larger 8.5mm heavy round which used a tungsten-carbide core surrounded with a steel alloy jacket. Into the dusk upon their arrival, tracers lifted up into the darkened sky as the special forces troopers prepared their new gunsight optics and thermal viewers.

Most others in the teams used the nearly ubiquitous G101B or "Babe" carbine, which had almost replaced all rifles throughout the army. The rifle fired the original 6.5mm rifle-standard, kinetic-fragmentation round, which was still as lethal now as when it was introduced. The rifle was adopted by nearly all airborne and mechanized infantry units, as it still provided range comparable to the G100 rifle in a much more compact package, leaving the longer rifles to go towards the light infantry and arctic/mountain warfare divisions. However, even the carbine proved something of a cumbersome weapon to those who required additional freedom in their movements, prompting them to adopt the "Babe's" little sister, the G102k or "Karla" as it was affectionately called, the rifle's original Commando rifle was shortened to almost submachinegun size with the replacement of the old telescopic buttstock with a folding one.

The special forces soldiers, happy to have the opportunity to use their weapons, were most pleased with the last two additions to their arsenal were revealed, the SRAW-90 rocket launcher and the LAW-90 weapon system. The former was little more than a disposable tube-launched rocket with a standard tandem-HEAT warhead, many of the troopers preferred to remove the weapon's hardened-foam foregrip and use it in the same manner as the older LAW-75 weapons. The latter impressed the most in its multi-mission capability. Able to fire a number of standard 90mm munitions, it could also fire a number of larger 120mm munitions, including two guided missiles for anti-tank and anti-materiel warfare. Although true anti-tank capability was provided by the massive FGM-330 Halberd guided missile, allowing any of the soldiers welding it capable of knocking out any armoured vehicle or low-flying helicopter.

Diplomatic Communiqué

To: Pavel Kasatikin
From: Amanda Ethridge

Message
We note your displeasure with our action and apologise for any distress it causes you. However we will continue with our attacks until we have all our citizens returned to us unharmed. The Emperor wishes to inform you that any reasonable requests you have about our use of force will be acted upon if at all possible.

-----

“Sir. Three confirmed cruise missile strikes; one was destroyed by counter fire. The submarines are all in position; they should be ready to fire any second. Do you still wish to send the order to engage? We might be able to get the planes through the defences without any of the distractions.” The bridge intelligence officer paused waiting for Admiral Hall to reply.

“We were here to rescue the citizens, not to declare war on this country but that is probably how it will end up at this rate. Screw it. Launch a pair of EWar birds, start them jamming the radar from the guidance systems; we need to pull out the team.”

“Sir, what about the enemy ships? Do we order the submarines to engage?”

“Very well. Engage the enemy. It’s not like it is cold blooded murder or anything.” Admiral Hall frowned, contemplating the blood shed soon to be caused.

----

As soon as the artillery barrage finished the Diggledom Special Forces stuck their head up above their cover, sighting down their weapons. The two bursts of Tunguska fire had left swathes of destruction through the forest. The battle experienced troops heard the sound of helicopters in the distance, indicating that troops were incoming. They already knew that some were in the area; the rockets had been a pretty big warning. The last Tunguska hadn’t been destroyed by the cruise missile strike, nor had the trenches, so they still had work to do. The remaining seven men slowly crawled to the edge of the tree line and started to fire. As mercenaries heads popped out of the trenches to fire their weapons they were greeted by bursts from the two D-MMG-4’s, completing their job of suppressing the enemy. One of the battle pairs moved to the rear of the position, pulling back to provide cover for the HLZ.

OOC: Aequatio, you bastard. The "Century" system kicks ass, now I can't even think "Well, maybe it'll jam." I know it won't, I helped design the fucker. I wasn't intending to get my ass stuck on the "recieving" end of one of those rifles, haha.

Recieving target bearings from the surviving mercenaries in their positions around the air-defence battery, the Mi-24s swooped in again, unleashing 80mm rocket and 12.7x108mm chaingun fire. After each high-speed run they swooped low and around, constantly talking to both the men on the ground and the Mi-17, which was acting as a command post, coordinating between air-defence command, air control, the Fireforce element, the Hinds, and the mercs in their slit trenches.

Novikov's left arm bent at the elbow, fist in the air. The signal passed amongst his section quickly, every man sinking to a kneeling or prone position. Moss bedded the bipod of his FN-MAG down, his loader dialling the gas-tube back to something more like 800rpms, to allow him controlled, accurate short bursts.
"Movement, eleven o'clock, moving to the right, perpendicular to us. Await my signal."
"Affirmative."
The second fireteam leader called in as well; "Acknowledged, Novikov."

Surrounded by the dense green foliage of the woods, the Russkyan section commander felt perfectly at home. Ahead of him were two shapes that did not belong in the forest, and did not appear to be friendlies. Just to be sure, he very quietly called in on his personal role radio to the Mi-17 - Hotel Foxtrot 2 - to ensure that all of the defending mercenaries were still in their positions. He knew they weren't fellow Fireforce men. His weapon already shouldered, he began tracking the lead shape with his muzzle. Novikov's silhoutte, and that of his battlepair partner Kolachuk, were broken up by their uniforms and the forest undergrowth. Kolachuk was further concealed by a thin bush to his front right. Moss happily shouldered the stock of his GPMG, swivelling backwards to take aim on a point behind the enemy group, one hundred meters to his section's front.

They held fire, waiting for more targets to come into the killzone. Grenadiers readied UBGLs, one man loading a purple smoke marker round into the AG-36 strapped under the barrel of his HK-416. That man wished for a rifle that fired a heavier round. The other Fireforce section held up their advance, ready to respond if the enemy attempted to "shatter clear."

OOC: Sorry for the delay from me, lots going on here this week, got ‘volunteered’ to move furniture and work got in the way as well. And SaintB, I don’t quite have a response for you just now.

“And we’re done.”

With those words from the man operating the camera, Stepan, who had been seated behind a small desk holding a few papers with a calm exterior broke down. Dropping the papers to the desk the held his face in his hands for several moments before he looked up to someone else who was out of frame from the camera with a glare. He was only somewhat aware of the attempted attack by Orbath forces and the attack by Diggledom forces going on at that very moment.

Admiral Rinat Esker looked back at the ‘former’ minister with a smile, it hadn’t been hard to convince the man to go on camera and read the statement he just did, he was a family man after all. He gave a quick gesture and two armed mercenaries came forward towards Stepan, who slowly rose and was quickly escorted out of the room, to be taken back to his home where he was under house arrest.

“How long before that’s ready?”

The technician who had been operating the camera looked back towards the Admiral at the question, “About twenty minutes, just going to make a quick check of it then it will be ready to be transmitted. You think they’ll buy it?”

Rinat grunted slightly in amusement, “Not like they have much of a choice, Stepan was even more convincing then I thought he would be. Though I’m annoyed that these ‘do-gooders’ have already started to attack my military and that we had to alter the message. In any case, it will be sent in thirty minutes?”

“It will be, yes.”

As the technician left the room, Rinat turned to one of his staff officers standing nearby, “I’m done playing nice defending our territory, order the fleet to initiate defensive action three. The only way that team attacking our positions to the Northeast could have got ashore is if they were deployed by submarine. Order our ships to run periodic active sweeps, they’re not the ones trying to hide.”

“Yes sir.”

-----

The ranking Sergeant in the trenches growled in frustration, more angry then surprised that the still unknown Special Forces team had decided to foolishly re-engage them now that they had lost the crucial element of surprise. They had never stopped watching for their enemy, ready to fire once again, they had merely stayed in their trenches rather then rashly leave then to engage the hostile force. With the Special Forces team outnumbered, outgunned, cut off from friendly forces and facing properly dug in and experienced soldiers with reinforcements present, the mercenary soldiers had no intention of letting themselves be suppressed, for to suppress one trench was to leave oneself open to fire from two others, and they took full advantage of this.

To that end, using the barrages from the supporting MI-24s the soldiers in the trenches returned fire with little concern to conservation of them ammunition, which they had a excellent supply of. The distinct thump of their M203 launchers added to the fray as they arrayed a withering amount of fire towards the Diggledom team with their M4s, Minimis and MAGs. Had it not been for the reinforcement squad being so close, the Sergeant would have called in a mortar strike on the position of the relatively exposed Diggledom forces, in comparison to the dug in mercenaries.

While the Northeastern air defense battery was essentially out of commission, it was far from the only one on the Eastern side of the island and the area around where the firefight was occurring was still quite fully covered by the Novajev air defense umbrella. To make matters worse, following the orders from Admiral Ekster, the Novajev naval vessels begin to form together, an easy task given the small area they had to cover. Now instead of single ships they were formed into small battlegroups, of which those ships on the East and North began to move to the Northeast of the island.

-----

OOC: I guess this won’t be officially known ICly until after the firefight on the Northeast of the island is done.

A half-hour after the instigation of hostilities by the Diggledom SF team, a video message was suddenly transmitted on an open frequency from the Novajev civilian communications network. In the image a calm and collected middle aged man seated behind a desk holding a number of papers, obviously for what he was about to say.

“Good morning to you all. My name is Stepan Kutuzov and I am the Minister of Finance for the Novajev Republic. I speak to you now to attempt to resolve a grievous miscalculation on the part of myself and other government members of the Novajev Republic.

Three days ago many nations noted the unexpected landing of an unidentified military force on our island and mistook it for an invasion force. These forces belong to the newly formed Novajev Army and are under the direct command of the Novajev government. They were created for the expressed purpose of defending Novajev.

Now I know some of you may have concerns given the images seen on the Valnari News Network the day they came ashore, and I understand this, I would have concerns as well, but those images came out of context.

Some months ago, many of us in the government became aware of widespread corruption within the Novajev National Police Force and from other members of the government; misappropriation of funds and illegal seizures of property. Because the NNPF was our armed forces at the time we had no means of bringing them into check and were forced to create a military force in secret.

We had hoped to peacefully rest control away from the corrupt forces and peacefully resolve the situation, sadly the NNPF officers did not wish to give up their power an instigate numerous firefights and damaged the communications network.

It was never our intention to put the lives of the public in danger, and we regret that some of our people have been killed. However I can say that at this time, no foreign citizens have been harmed and we have no intention of detaining them. To that end we implore government of Kilrany to reopen traffic for the ferry and light passenger service so those foreign nationals who wish to leave our island may do so peacefully. We also ask the Germanian government to reopen air travel as well for the same.

I reiterate, we have no intention of holding anyone hostage here, this includes those military forces from the nation of Orbath who survived their unprovoked attack on our nation. All foreign nationals will be allowed to leave when the Germanian and Kilrany government reopen civilian traffic.

However, we will not tolerate unprovoked attacks on our sovereignty and we will defend our island accordingly to any attack. Additionally, I now make a personal request to the Kilrany Empire to adhere to their pledge of protection and take action to defend us against those who have so openly attacked our nation.”

The tape would play a second time immediately after the first to ensure people saw it.

From the CIC of the KIN Fiery Dawn, Admiral Renatus grunted in amusement at the revelation as she saw the message upon a monitor. She had no reason to doubt the message for the time being, though she continued acting upon her original orders to hold station, waiting for the decision from command on how they wished to proceed in accordance to this new information.

Austen squeezed the trigger again, throwing a clod of earth up from the back of one of the trenches, forcing the mercenaries inside to duck to avoid the flying soil. The remaining Tunguska was still firing the occasional burst into the tree's, reducing them to flying splinters and green shreds. No more of the soldiers had died, less because of their training and more because of luck. The repeated helicopter attacks were levelling areas of the forest, covering them in shrapnel and concussive force. He was repeating a personal mantra to himself, "Just the tank, just the tank." As soon as the last Tunguska was destroyed they could begin to pull back, leaving the aircraft to suppress the position.

He looked down the line and saw the other members of the special forces team. They were all behind cover, popping up to fire a burst or two before moving further down the line, heading towards the northern end of the forest, where the LZ was. Suddenly about half way down the line a 203 grenade exploded, a pall of smoke surrounding the area where it had detonated. One of the men was thrown back from the detonation site, landing in a sprawl of limbs. He pulled himself back into a crouching position, aimed at the nearest trench and when a head appeared, fired off another shot. He pulled himself back to the ground and looked back at the figure, it was stirring feebly, even as he watched it pulled itself to it's feet and started to fire again. He moved a few metres down the trench before sticking his rifle on the side of the dip before sighting down it.

Another weapon popped out of a trench, followed by a head. He swung his rifle towards it and fired. Without even looking at the target he wriggled backwards out of his position and moved along behind their position, following a natural dip in the land. He saw Halleck pull a D-LAW-2 into position and ducked backwards as the weapon fired. There was a dull whump as the soft launch mechanism ejected the missile before a high pitched whistle as the weapon accelerated under it's own power. The missile left no visible trail in the early morning sunlight, the faint smoke trail so dim as to be practically invisible. The missile followed it's track perfectly, detonating 1 metre above the front of the tunugska, just next to the radar dish. The vehicle was instantly wreathed in smoke. The entire firefight seemed to stand still for a second as everyone watched the vehicle to see if the missile had penetrated.

Austen was close enough to see Halleck peering through the foliage, muttering something to himself as he waited for the smoke to clear. Whatever else happened, they would avenge the deaths of their friend. Even if that meant all out war on the island.


-----

The two soldiers that had pulled back to secure the LZ began to quickly and quietly scout out the area, they weren't expecting enemy forces but it was so deeply engrained into them that they couldn't help it. They split up and started to search the area, not trying overly hard to be camoflauged but by no means easy to track in the irregular lighting of the edge of the forest. They each had their weapons in the hunt position, butts in the shoulder, their muzzles and eyes covering their arcs slowly and surely.

They slowly moved through the forest, their weapons levelled and eyes peeled for any signs of movement. Each of them took a 180 degree area to search, they would check carefully out to 100 metres and a rough check of the next 100 metres with only their eyes.

---

The two Albatross aircraft were flying in vague formation, one almost half a kilometer ahead of the other. The first one in the formation was the 'shooter' it had weapons mounted on it's hardpoints, 2 HSARM-2 missiles, 4 ALARM-2 and a pair of wing tip mounted ASRAAM-4's. It was the more heavily armed one, its partner was only carrying 4 wing mounted jamming pods, boosting its range and jamming ability. The plan was to begin jamming as soon as the Wagtail entered the immediate area around the special forces group. When the team pulled out they would launch the ALARM-2 missiles, to try to destroy as many of the mercenary AA positions as possible. In the perfect scenario they would clear most of the major radar positions, leaving the airspace open to the Diggledom forces. Nearly 20km in front of the insertion force the best of the Diggledom naval fliers were heading towards the island, less than 50 metres from the surface of the sea. The two Spoonbill fighters had already launched their AMRAAM-4 missiles when the satellite intelligence technicians transmitted the fact that there were helicopters in the area. Even if the missiles didn't hit, they would hopefully drive the helicopters back, allowing the exfiltration to be done easier than if the enemy had air superiority.

Hotel Foxtrot Two relayed the warning to November Flight, provided to him by the smooth voiced Italian in Red Stone's employ who was currently manning some of the radios at the airfield that Fireforce had departed only a few minutes ago. The warning was standard fare; inbound enemy aviation, be advised, out.

In the cockpit of November One, the threat warning reciever blared and lit up. The simple representation of a top-down view of the Mi-24 was surrounded by a "clockface" of dashes and numbers at the primary points; 12, 3, 6, 9, and those closest to the source of the warning - the AMRAAM missiles - were currently lit up. Knowing that the missiles were likely not of USAAF origin, the weapon systems operator flicked the analog switches available to him and every three seconds a cloud of chaff with a flare in the middle of it appeared behind the helicopter, as it dove towards the ground to become lost in the ground clutter. November Flight, before taking evasive action, vectored in Hotel Foxtrot Two.

Feeling horribly exposed, the pilot of the Mi-17 approached low, steadily gaining speed with the heavy rotor-blades chopping through the undisturbed air directly infront of them. An iron grip on the collective prevented the helicopter from rising, and his copilot flicked off weapons safeties. The Mi-24s knew where the target was, why it wasn't dead yet was completely beyond the reasoning of both flights of rotary-wing aircraft. Given the sheer power of the 80mm FFAR, any soft target - especially personnel - should have been shredded within twenty five meters of the impact site, even in forest. This was the reason that 80mm instead of 57mm had been loaded onto the stub wings of the attack helicopters.

If one set of people knew on the ground where they were taking fire from, it was the mercenaries. The pilot of Hotel Foxtrot Two, knowing this, turned his radio to their frequency, identified himself, and requested a target location. This he recieved, along with the information that the enemy appeared to be "peeling" to one direction. Feeling somewhat harried by the constant fire on his position, the NCO the pilot was in contact with did not determine the direction of the enemy's move and the pilot knew better than ask again.

"Hotel Foxtrot Two, assume bow of MT-LB is twelve o'clock. Enemy located three o'clock, treeline and minus five-zero meters maximum. Everything you've got along that line. Will attempt to designate with smoke, acknowledge, go."
"India Four, Hotel Foxtrot acknowledges, running now. Smoke now. Hotel Foxtrot out."

On the appropriate axis, the copilot triggered the AGS-17 automatic grenade launchers fitted into modified gunpods. A stream of 40mm grenades arced out into the target area, followed up by 57mm rockets. Bringing his aircraft around in a tight turn that left the crewchief in the back firing his FN-MAG with one boot braced on the bulkhead nearest the ground, the helicopter then "slipped" in the air and dropped down another twenty metres in altitude from its original fifty. Lowering himself to twenty five meters and coming in slower, he saw two orange smoke plumes appear, bracketing the target area nicely.

"India Four, Hotel Foxtrot!"
"Hotel, India, go!"
"India, confirm orange smoke, orange smoke, over."
"Hotel, confirm orange smoke ours. Target area between the markers, free fire zone between those markers, over!"
"India, Hotel acknowledges. Keep heads down. Out."

57mm and 40mm raked across the target area. Out of ordnance, Hotel Foxtrot Two then lost himself in ground clutter and flickered back to the airfield to rearm and refuel, "passing the torch" to November One, who with his wingman, was loitering inside the protective umbrella of a nearby air-defence battery.

On the ground, Novikov's section waited. The two men appeared to be conducting a search, which Novikov refused to tolerate. He gave the signal, two taps on the pressle of his PRR, then lined up his sights on the nearest shape in the forest again and took up first pressure. Moss was first to fire, the FN-MAG/58 bisecting the furthest figure with a line of tracers and then sweeping through the area approximately twelve inches off the ground to ensure he was dead. Heavy 7.62x51mm rounds slammed through branches, brush, tree trunks, and carried on beyond, sometimes in fragments but no less lethal for that.

Novikov's finger completed the trigger pull, and Kolachuk also fired. Kolachuk's double tap was so quick that the recoil felt as one push to his shoulder rather than two jolts, and he followed up with four more doubletaps into the target before ceasing fire. Once something was spotted in the forest, it was almost as if a searchlight was locked onto it, and it was difficult to lose track of it. Almost impossible, especially if you were already stationary, the target was moving, and this wasn't your first time in a forest.

The element in contact held position, the second element moving up to engage the area bracketed between two orange smoke markers and shredded by rockets and automatic fire of all kinds. Novikov radioed Hotel Foxtrot Two and was informed that the helicopter was out of the area. Requesting the coordinates of the known enemy force, he advised all friendly forces that Three Section had engaged additional enemy forces, holding in position. Two Section's commander, John Hodgeson, also recieved the enemy's coordinates. He knelt in the forest, headset of the manpack radio his corporal carried pressed against his free ear, the other covered by the PRR he wore.

"Number Four Battery, Fireforce Two Section here. Request fire mission, over."
"Fireforce Two Leader, Four Battery acknowledges. Awaiting data, over."
"Battery, Fireforce. Coordinates to follow. Infantry in forest. High explosive fragmentation."

Relaying the coordinates, the fire-control dialogue was completed. Kilometers away, the crews of the 120mm mortars were already stood to, and the gunner stomped down on the foot trigger near the baseplate of his weapon. It slammed back into the ground and a concussion ring slapped him about the head. Blinking furiously as his loader dropped another round down the tube, he remembered to duck this time as his knee impacted the foot trigger and another 120mm HE-FRAG went downrange, nosing over at the apex of its arc and landing well inside the target area.

One Twenty mortars have tremendous killing power. They lack the range of the 155mm gun-howitzer, but have approximately 75% of its death-dealing capability. The mortar crews loved this knowledge, and the Infantry units they supported revelled in it.

From its current position near hill 516, Northwest of Bilikov, the Novajev Army’s Northern most early warning radar and its most mobile one, had a visible horizon out to around eighty kilometers. At fifty meters above the water the Diggledom fighters were clearly visible to the high-powered air search radar at over ninety-five kilometers, which had left plenty of time to alert friendly forces of their approach.

Included in this alert was the air defense units assigned to the airfield used by the Fireforce commandos located just West of Travoro. The vehicle crews were scrambled and they were quickly driven out of two small sheds that had previously hid the four Tunguskas from satellite surveillance. They quickly moved their vehicles to the North end of the airstrip, stopping short of the perimeter fence that ran around the entire airfield.

Now in position for the four systems deployed their search radar but left it inactive for the time being, choosing instead to remain on passive sensors.

Farther to the South, just East of Kurlov and hill 165 sat one of the other Eastern air defense batteries, from this position their horizon was nearly the same as the range for their SA-17 missiles, from here they awaited a clean shot on the inbound Diggledom aircraft.

Farther out to sea, the Novajev Navy was forming up and those ships on the North and East were moving towards the Northeast, already well within range of the Diggledom ships for their own anti-ship missiles, they held their fire, ordered to only engage targets outside Novajev national waters only if attacked first. On the East two Pauk class fast attack ships and a single Steregushchy class corvette had formed up ten kilomters East of Klishev and were now moving North. While the four ships to the North of the island, two Pauk class fast attack ships and a two Steregushchy class corvettes had formed up twelve kilomters North of Bilikov and were now moving East.

-----

The ranking mercenary Sergeant broke out into a string of curses when he heard the anti-tank weapon fire and hit the nearby Tunguska, the light armour having no chance against any real anti-armour warhead. Finally disabled and the gunner himself severely wounded by the weapon strike, a nasty wound in his leg which led him to curse even more so then the Sergeant in the trenches.

The Sergeant barely had the time to feel frustrated that the enemy force was still engaging them while he fired off several aimed shots from his M4, despite the intense, aimed fire his men were unleashing upon them. They were not popping up and down out of their trenches like some ridiculous ‘whack a mole’ game, they stood up in their trenches firing aimed bursts, the rifleman unleashing roughly thirty rounds a minute while their machine gunners fired off eight round bursts, all coming from the mutually supporting slit trenches.

A sudden shout to his left drew his attention though as another one of his men went down, a round having penetrated through the ballistic helmet he wore just above the protective goggles. Their ducked down to make a quick check of the soldier’s status, but merely confirmed that he was in fact dead from the head wound before he brought his own M4 up to bear once again.

Moments later the warning sounded in his radio, “Mortar fire inbound, take cover.”

Quickly their fire came to a stop and they ducked down into their trenches as the 120mm high explosive fragmentation rounds began to impact the area, dangerously close to their own trenches, but little could be done for it, they intended to kill the attackers out of sheer vengeance at this point.

((Stil no reply to me, I feel loved :())
Kilometers off the Coast of Novajev
Prometheus continued along his course, about 3 meters above the roiling sea below, being only a machine, he did not worry about the chance of a sudden downdraft pushing him to the churning waves below and puttered steadily on as fast as his little electric powered propeller engines could carry him. Internal companents hummed rythmycally as the nose camera came to life, searching left and right as the technicians back onboard ship tested the equipment; digital images flooded back to them, radar still showed nothing but prelaunch tests told the crew that this system too was in perfect working order. The wing still camera snapped some digital images of the ocean which came back in clear resolution.
Had Prometheus been sentient he would have recognized the importance of this moment, the first combat mission of his class of UAV was at this point working totally to expectations. However his intended mission was soon to be scrapped...

KSB Wasp
Chief Petty Officer Ryan Daniels stared at his computer's moniter checking mission data gathered by Prometheus when something on the adjacent screen caught his eye... "Hey, Joe!"
"Yeah?"
"Whats that blip on Prometheus's radar screen?"
"Shouldn't be nothin'." Joe said as he walked back to his position and took a look, typing in a command that brought up that radar's quadrant, "Looks like a cruiser or some other small naval vessel."

*****
Admiral Heart looked at the printout, a small cluster of ships showed up on Prometheus' radar now less than 3 km from the UAV's location. "... and we have reason to suspect that they belong to the current government that controls the island." the technician said looking up at the red-eyed admiral.
"Go ahead and deviate the mission, get some intel on these ships and lets see if we can ID them. Kilrany might be interested to know what these people are using."
"Yes ma'am." the soldier said and took off at a veritable run back to his station.
She sighed, it was so like the enlisted soldiers to want to play with the newest shiny toys that the defense departments privatized sector pumped out. She needed rest, but for now she'd have to settle for another coffee...

*****
Chris diligently treid once more to raise the land base on Kilrany, "This is the KSB Wasp do you copy Kilrany?"

3 km from unknown fleet, off the Kilrany Coast
Prometheus changed his vector, now under direct control via sattelite by one of the technicians back on ship, dropping alltitude again to about 2 meters, give or take now that he travled into the wind toward an as yet unspecified military vessel.


((I'll let anyone near the island coast with a fleet claim this one even though its suspscted to be Novajev ships; my UAV would do some fly bys and try to get some video and stills of the ships before continueing on its current assingment or getting blasted out of the sky by angry seamen))

Webb turned off the TV. Another country lost to the decay society.
"God help us all..." he muttered to himself. He pondered a moment, and then turned the TV on again, turning to Channel 24, K-FCJJ, his favorite news channel. They were always honest, the FCJJ folks, the kind of news team that you would welcome into your home and maybe offer lunch to.

The local anchor William Goldstien's face filled the screen.
"As the strange occurrences in Novajev continue to play out, all communications attempts with the Enataian Embassy in Novajev have failed. We fear the worst as over fifty Enataians are now under official missing status. Our prayers go out to them and their families. We are getting reports of not one but over a dozen unofficial rescue funds that seem to be traveling all around the offices and workplaces of *Bellevue today, in what appears to be the strangest case of simultaneous thinking we've seen since the quadruple-invention story four years ago. People are calling it miraculous, and it seems to be bringing the nation together. We thank all of the people helping this noble cause. And now over to our international correspondant, Francis Wells. Francis?"
Suddenly there appeared on the screen a brunette woman that had a face strangely reminiscent of Jane Goodall. The cameraman must have been an idiot, because the background was so up-in-the-air that she could have been standing in the lot behind the K-FCJJ building for all anyone knew. However, a small strip at the very bottom read "Francis Wells, international correspondant," and below that it read "Kilrany." No city name, just Kilrany. Strange. The woman began to speak.
"Thank you, Will. Though we're very close to Novajev, we have still been completely unable to initiate contact with anyone there, and we're not legally allowed to take a boat over, nor are we very sure of the safety of ourselves or anyone who would take us. The situation seems to be getting worse as rumors are flying all around, some of them so crazy as to say things such as this is the work of Kilrany, or that these are underground militant republic forces from neighboring nations. There are even claims that this is all a part of a grander scheme set up by the UN. One thing is for certain- Strange as they may seem, at this point, absolutely anything is possi-"

Webb turned off the TV and cursed as loud as he could. First off, because he knew that even though Enatai had no business there, everyone would be talking about this for years to come, flooding the news with the same old crap from yesterday. Webb despised beating dead horses, and man, would this be one pulpy dead horse by the time it was over. Second, he cursed because he knew that he could do nothing about this, which was against his nature. A country in need that cannot be helped is a curse to Webb, it truly is. While a world away, there was excitement and mystery, Webb was stuck here... signing papers about such exciting things such as Possible Upcoming Funding Options for Enatai's National Lawyer Association.

He just wished it would be over soon. Very soon.

Wixley gave up on waiting after a full half hour. He knew they were in there, and as part of Fireforce, he knew he had "at operational discretion" over the entire island, permissions granted by what he thought of at the moment as the "PseudoGovernment." They'd knocked once every ten minutes, then hit the doorbell again. No answer, though he could hear non-native voices inside and plenty of movement. He sighed inwardly and glanced at Mannorst, who nodded agreement.

The "Brigada Volkov" men, a few scarred from firefights - or several firefights - in the FLRJ, kept close watch on the surrounding neighbourhood, protecting the backs of their comrades in the other fireteam and the uparmoured truck that was currently idling, as it had been for a half hour. One of the men, a former Republican soldier, heard Wixley get Mac's attention.

"Yeah boss?" was the response, delivered in typical Glaswegian growl.
"Bang the door, Mac. We're going in to get them out."

It sounded as if the response to that was "Fuck's sake," as Mac wrestled the stockless ten-gauge pump action shotgun around from where it hung on its sling behind him. He flicked the safety off, letting his HK-416 hang by its tactical sling. Of course, they'd already checked the door - repeatedly - and knew it to be locked. Warricker's hand checked his goggles and he hefted the SS-77 LMG up into his shoulder, muzzle facing the door, at a forty-five degree angle away from the door himself, weapon facing inside the doorframe. Ehms was stood at a similar angle, muzzle of his ten gauge almost touching the area just between the deadbolt lock and the doorframe.

Karl "Mac" Ehms felt Wixley's hand on his shoulder, and caught Mannorst's hand touching Warricker's right shoulder out of the corner of his eye. He braced himself, pulled the trigger and felt the shotgun kick back in recoil. In the same fluid motion, he racked the pump and dropped the muzzle five inches to slam another slug through the part of the door that houses the bolt of the knob. This shattered off and he racked the slide again as the weapon kicked back again. Warricker's boot connected with the door, knocking it askew on its hinges, and he went through bellowing, followed immediately by Mannorst.

Inside the residence, a shocked-pale female in a blue turtlenecked sweater stood, smashed crockery at her feet, jaw agape. Mannorst grabbed her by the collar and hustled her outside into the care of the men outside. Warricker booted in an interior door and hauled a fifteen year old away from the computer he was sat infront of, still bellowing to shock anyone in his path into inaction. He threw the adolescent into the main hallway, the linoleum flooring now marked with the scuffs of combat boot soles, where Wixley threw him out the front door. Ehms was already at the top of the stairs, Wixley storming up behind him as Mannorst returned to the main level. He tapped Ehms on the back and went forward shouting, booting in bedroom and bathroom doors.

The last door, he came face to face with a seventeen year old girl holding her father's sporting piece, a bolt-action rifle most likely in .30-06. He kept moving, hand slapping out from the foregrip of his HK carbine to knock the muzzle in the air, bellowing a warning to Mac coming in behind him. Mac, quite simply, shoulder-checked the teenager off balance and wrenched the rifle from her stunned hands. She was dragged out into the main hall and hustled outside as well. A quick headcount was checked against the manifest. Missing two.

"Why the fuck can't this ever go nicely, Mac?"
"Fuck if I know Warricker. Getting real tired of this now mate," while his gloved hand gripped the forehead of the adolescent girl who was now trying to bite his leg, the nearest part of him her prostrate form could reach as she was flex-cuffed by the former Brigada Volkov boys.

Politely, with a calm voice, Mannorst asked the eldest female if she knew where her husband and oldest son were. He asked her again, then once more, finally giving up and pulling his mission orders from his breast pocket, placing them in her flexcuffed hands that rested in her lap.

"Read those. If you'd only opened the door, I wouldn't have had to have Mac blast it open so we could say hello. Now where's your husband and eldest son, so we can go get them, pack your things up, and get you on a short-haul flight out of here, ma'am?"

(OOC; If anyone wants to take this family, go for. I'm thinking they could belong to anyone who's here to get their civilians off the island. They're tourists, just in a rented house for a month or so, some shit like that.)

0924 – Novajev Island

The smoke cleared from around the Tunguska, exposing a large hole in the side of the turret, splintering one of the cannons and bending the four missile tubes on the right side of the turret into a twisted mass of metal. Immediately the team started to pull back, leaving one battle pair to try to keep the enemy suppressed. The four men that were pulling back had just left the area when the helicopters started their second run, hosing 12.7mm rounds and 80mm rockets down the line, the first run had been slightly off target, landing slightly too deep in the forest, instead of raking along the line they landed slightly down the ridge, shielding the team from the main effects of the blasts and the shrapnel.

The second run hit dead on, the heavy rockets ripping into the forest, each detonating as the rocket hit either the floor or the larger tree trunks. The sheer amount of shrapnel guaranteed the deaths of the two remaining troopers; one of them died instantly as a piece of shrapnel practically decapitated him; the other wasn’t as lucky, a severed branch piercing his leg, pinning him to the floor. He managed to raise his hand and continue firing, hoping to buy some time for the rest of the team to evacuate. The continued firing of his machine gun was what prompted the mercenary force to believe the team was still there, meaning the next missile run was centred directly on him, his body completely ripped to shreds by the stream of rockets and machine gun bullets.

The rest of the team were approaching the landing site when they heard a series of brief rifle cracks and a longer burst from a machine gun. Immediately they went to ground, Michael radioing forwards to the two lead scouts,
“2, 1. Do you read? Over.” The only reply was the white sound of static from the channel.

“3, 1. Do you read? Over.” He scowled and pointed at Austen before gesturing for him to move forwards, slowly checking the woodland for enemies. He slowly moved forwards staying as low as possible. He slowly moved around a tree and saw the marks from low flying bullets along the bottom of a large deciduous tree. He looked down the bullet tracks and could only see a set of bushes; the rounds must have come through them, unaimed.

0925 – Novajev Island

The first warning of the incoming bombardment was a slight whistle as the 120mm round flicked through the forest canopy and hit a sapling roughly 150m behind them, the shrapnel sliced through the air, the thick trees absorbing it before any of it reached the team. They immediately scattered, trying to reduce the chance of one shell taking out the entire team. After the first shell landed the rest of the barrage was less of a shock, though no less damaging for the lack of surprise. All but one of the team died in the shrapnel storm, leaving Austen alive forward of the rest of the team. One piece of shrapnel cut through his leg, he immediately dropped to the ground, a fallen tree protecting him from the rest of the flying metal. He kept his head as he tied a dressing around his leg.

0926 – Novajev Island

Austen panted, pain was shooting through his leg and he couldn’t afford to take any painkillers until he sent a message. He pulled his PRR out of its chest holster and jerkily pulled a signal booster out of his patrol pack. He plugged his PRR into the booster and started to speak,

“All Diggledom call signs this is Mike Romeo Tango one. Team has been wiped out; I say again, team has been eliminated. Advise all teams pull back.” He took a deep breath before starting to repeat the message.

0926 – 45km ENE from Novajev coast

The two Spoonbill fighters at the front of the Diggledom air force push intercepted the message, they had received the message from Austen and as was normal policy on Special Forces missions they had complete discretion over their mission. As soon as they received the message they both peeled off into a full 180 turns, heading back towards their carrier. The rest of the flight package started to turn, the two albatross’ were beginning a long patrol 40km from the carrier group.

0926 – Dauntless Bridge

“Sir, the planes are pulling back. They received a signal from the team. They say they have a reason and are requesting we pull all our forces back until they land.”

Admiral Hall gritted his teeth, he was unused to having to follow someone else’s orders on his own bridge.

“Fine. Do it. Pull all our forces back to around us, keep a constant patrol up and get the int. guys here. I want them to get the satellite feeds up and running within the next few hours.”

09.26 Local, Novajev Island
Hodgeson, on one knee and watching his sector of the outwards facing circular defensive perimeter, tapped the transmit switch of his PRR twice. His point man looked back over his shoulder at him, and Hodgeson waved forwards in the direction of the two orange smoke markers now that the bombardment had ceased.
Two Section deployed into a column, Docherty on point and Linderer walking his slack. Still fully camouflaged, the unit monitored a three sixty degree arc around them as they moved carefully and quietly through the forest, Hodgeson calling ahead to contact the mercenaries around the air defence battery and Three Section.

Twenty five meters from the bombardment area, shrapnel cooled in trees, the metal fragments sometimes visible sticking from the trunks and branches of blast-whipped foliage. Linderer smelt burnt sap in the air, amongst other aromas he was unfortunately familiar with. Docherty held up a closed fist and the section sank to one knee, Hodgeson moving forward past Linderer, a palm on one shoulder letting the slack man know that his section commander was passing by.

Reaching Docherty, the man simply indicated an area to their front and silently asked via handsignal if they should move out into it. Hodgeson nodded and passed the signal down the line for the formation to assume a wedge. He then radioed Novikov's Three Section and informed them of their actions. Novikov's section likewise formed wedge and began carefully combing through their section of forest for survivors, policing the two bodies of the thus-far unidentified special forces soldiers on their way forward.

A deliberate halt minutes later as they determined the area was clear. One press of the transmit "pressle" on the PRR from Novikov, the breaking squelch audible in everyone's left ear. Halting simultaneously, they shifted into an outwards facing defensive perimeter while Kolachuk undid the whip antennae of the manpack radio he carried, handing the handset to Novikov without prompting, knowing this to be a SITREP break.

"Fireforce Romeo, Fireforce Three-Romeo. Message, over."
"Three Romeo, Fireforce Romeo, over."
"Romeo, Three. Three section SITREP as follows; slant full, no casualties. Ammunition status green, supplies status green. Continuing patrol please advise any new orders now, go."
"Three, Romeo. Nothing new, continue patrolling. Do you require combat tracker support at this time, go."
"Romeo, Three. No trackers required at this time. Securing area, suspect enemy slant zero, no contacts yet. Confirm two KIA by small arms fire, well equipped. Bodies polices for intelligence boys, over."
"Three, Romeo. Wilco, over."
"Romeo, Three. Nothing further to report at this time. Fireforce Three-Romeo Out."

The two Fireforce sections coordinated between themselves, coming up with a number of enemy KIAs. Slight problem: One seemed to be missing from what would be the usual number for a unit like this. Hodgeson and Novikov conferred, then returned to their LZ. Except for ghostly shapes in the artillery and close-air shattered forest, the mercenaries defending the now negated air-defence position saw nothing of the Fireforce commandos. Two Section extracted via both November Flight Mi-24s, four men to each Hind, as Hotel Foxtrot Two was still off-station, refuelling and re-arming. The downside of the AGS-17 armed weapons pods was that they were not quickly reloaded once on the ground. Three Section stayed behind and began looking for ground sign. The most experienced trackers in Fireforce were in One Section, currently deployed elsewheres. Two Section could take over their duties, freeing up at least the tracker team to come down and support Novikov, though at the moment the mercenaries on Novajev remained unsure if such action was nessecary.

Better safe than sorry though, and One Section was pulled back to base before Mannorst and Wixley were ordered to get to the POL pad on which Hotel Foxtrot Two was sitting, engines off, for immediate deployment as a tracker team. Two Section took over the duties of One Section, though the remaining civilians on the island seemed to cooperate with their directives and no action such as that Mac had taken was nessecary. That family turned out to be Spazjenian, and that evening left the island on a 737 passenger liner bound for Russkya where it would take aboard more passengers and luggage before travelling to Eastern Spazjenia.

Piet refilled a canteen at the POL point before stepping aboard the Mi-17, slotting the olive drab plastic into the appropriate pouch on his belt. Wixley was resting, back against the bulkhead and rifle muzzle down, eyes closed. Piet Mannorst sat and unfastened the top buckle of his assault vest, reaching inside to pull a worn paperback novel from the left breast pocket of his jacket, frowning at the damage done to the novel's cover. He'd only bought it two days ago and was already two thirds of the way through it. He opened to his bookmark and rested his back against the bulkhead much as Wixley did, as the crewchief supervised the refuelling process. Strong morning sunlight silhouetted the FN-MAG/58 still hanging from the portside hatch on its strap, casting that sharp shadow against the bulkhead.

OOC: I’m not sure on the specifications of your drone, but I’m guessing it has at least a basic stealth design to it, if not more complex, as if my understanding of drones nowadays is correct they usually have that design aspect to reduce their small radar cross section even more so.

I’m entirely unhappy with this post, I’m exhausted and its rushed, so apologies as I don’t feel it’s up to standard, but it should do given the long wait everyone has been going through for me to finally post something. There’s a bit more I should add, but that will have to wait until SaintB responds and I can move the timeframe up a half hour so ICly everyone knows about the public statement from Novajev I posted a few posts back now.

With the passing of the heavy storm that had rocked the area some days earlier, the sea around Novajev had significantly calmed down, though low waves were still present. At three meters off the water the SaintB drone would be a significant challenge for the Novajev radar operators to pick out given the small radar cross section typical of drone designs, however because it ran with an active radar signal, it was giving away it’s general position.

The Varana, one of the Novajev Paul class fast attack ships operating on the Southeast of Novajev had picked up the active radar signal from the drone with its passive radar receivers, and its crew, specifically its radar operator was carefully adjusting the frequency, scan rate, and power output of his system in an attempt to get a clean return off whatever it was that was actively scanning the area. The ship had already gone on alert and battlestations were manned and ready, waiting for a clean shot.

“Anything yet?”

The ship’s Captain was getting impatient, and it showed in the tone he had asked the radar operator with, “Nothing yet sir, its out there, probably a drone given its speed, still on course for Captain Lepp’s taskforce.”

The operator referred to the three Neustrashimy class frigates also on the South of Novajev currently approaching the Eastern most point on their patrol course that kept them in line with the slightly larger Kilrany fleet currently over their horizon. Unlike the other ships in the Novajev fleet, the Kilrany designed Pauk class was the only one with longer ranged SAM systems other then the Kashtan-M, close in weapon system, though it’s maximum range was still only twelve kilometers.

The primary task force of the Novajev navy, that of the three Neustrashimy class frigates under Captain Lepp’s command was also aware of the approaching threat, though they had yet to get a positive lock on it either.

“What do you think sir? Kilrany?”

“Could be, but I don’t see why they’d send a drone towards us when they know what we operate … hell they sold us everything our navy uses.”

Despite it’s small size and cross section, as it closed on the three Neustrashimy class frigates, there was a point where even the smallest, stealthiest aircraft would lose its ability to remain unseen by a radar system. Had it not been for the simple fact that the 9M311-1M missile in use by the Kashtan-M system onboard the Neustrashimy class missiles did not have the ability to home in on radar signals, the SaintB drone would not have been able to get as close as it did.

Up on the mast of the Lepp’s ship a camera swiveled around and looked towards the rapidly approaching drone, giving those down in the CIC a clear look at it. Due in large part to the recent attack on the Northeast of the island by Diggledom forces, Captain Lepp had no intention of taking any chances and ordered the target destroyed.

Up on the deck of his ship one of the Kashtan-M systems came to life, the fully computerized system began to track the drone with its fire control radar. Quickly assessing the probabilities the system chose to go with a gun engagement given the low altitude of the target, two seconds later the twin GSh-30k roared like a titanic chainsaw as its six-barreled, thirty millimeter guns sent their HE-Frag ammunition out at a combined rate of ten thousands rounds per minute, over a hundred rounds fired before the first shell casing fell to the deck.

-----

The Kilrany Lieutenant Commander finally responded to the second message from the Wasp with a slightly apologetic tone to his voice, “Copy that KSB Wasp, we’re reading you loud and clear, sorry for the delay, had a little difficulty setting of the receiver and the software to the properly read the signal. It’s not a means of communications we use often,” despite the fact that the SaintB officer couldn’t see it, he grinned slightly his last statement.

-----

It was never a fun thing to go through an artillery barrage, even if one was inside a trench and not the primary target, it didn’t help the mercenaries in the trenches that the fire had to come in dangerously close to them. Several seconds passed after the last one-twenty millimeter mortar had gone off before the Sergeant gave the order to retake their positions, simply put they stood up again the readied their weapons once more should the barrage not have ended the attack on them.

Their weapons remained silent however as no further fire fell upon them, a few moments later the Sergeant gave out of check fire order in response to a message from the response team that they were moving up to secure the location. Several minutes passed before the Sergeant felt it was safe enough to have the fireteam who had been in one of the trenches on the far side of the battery from the firefight get out of their trench and check the wounded, while he himself took the opportunity to get on the radio and make a full status report to a very unhappy superior officer.

Little could be done for the air defense battery in the short term, given the terrain it would be difficult to drive out to it with salvage vehicles and clear the wrecked SAM and radar systems, however they had no intention of abandoning them. Using additional helicopters at the Travoro airfield they would airlift in replacement forces to guard the position until salvage vehicles could arrive, and airlift out the wounded and dead.

In the meantime, Lieutenant Commander Hedison, the ranking officer in charge of the Eastern forces, ordered the activation of one of his reserve air defense batteries, for he had no intention of leaving any gaps in the air defense network they had established. It would take four hours for the vehicles to drive out of the primary base of operations and setup, this time on hill 264, just Northeast of the Travoro airfield, next to a small communications tower.

With the open attack on their air defense battery, measures were taken to increase security around all their positions, including their bases. Sections setup in defense reworked their trenches to allow themselves better fields of fire and setup up their machine guns in proper positions, mines were added to areas they couldn’t properly watch, such as woods nearby their positions. While this would all take several hours worth of work, it would be done before the day was out.

0928 - Novajev Island

Austen had managed to avoid being noticed by the Fireforce teams for the simple reason he looked like anything but human. The shelling had splintered the trees, these pale slivers added to his gilly suit made him blend in near perfectly with the ground around him. The wound to his leg wasn’t debilitating, just extremely painful and as soon as he had finished sending his message he had swallowed a heavy duty painkiller from his medical pack. He was slightly light-headed because of the drugs potency, but it allowed him to carry on moving through the undergrowth, leaving a slight trail but by no means up to his usual standards.

0934 - Novajev Island

Austen pulled himself up, he could see the sea in front of him, all he had to do was walk the hundred or so metres and he would be in it. He was about to start out towards the sea before he realised the key mistake he had made, he had no boat capable of taking him out far enough. The team had been inserted by Smallfin, he had no way of contacting the Venture and no idea if it would return even if he managed to contact it. He swore quietly in first Celtic then when that didn’t make him feel any better in Digglish. The only way he had of contacting the ships was his personal radio with the signal booster and if anyone was searching for him they would probably be able to follow the signal, but hopefully not descramble it. He looked up and down the beach before seeing somewhere that would suit his purpose, a small pile of stones.

0940 - Novajev Island

Austen had managed to move the stones into the required positions reasonably silently and quickly, forming a shallow covered area with the open side facing out to sea that still looked reasonably natural. He paused and took a long swallow from the water bladder across his back. He looked up and down the coast for any sign of movement before beginning to attack the underside of an overhanging grassy dune, hoping to have hollowed out a bolt hole before any enemy forces came checking for him.

OOC: My post is probably equally bad so don't worry Kilrany.

prometheus
Prometheus detected incoming and its 'dog brain' reacted when it was targeted; he immediately began a series of 360 degree barrel rolls then jinked right, the drone's automatic reaction was almost too little too late and two rounds hit their mark, one impacted with the very end of the left wing, smashing an aileron and causing a line of black smoke to billow out, another clipped the camera mounted on the left wing and took it out, its fragmentation only causing superficial damage otherwise.
"We lost stills, and the left aileron is toasted. I don't think we can get him out before they open up with volley number two!"
"Try anyway!"
Ryan Daniels, the first speaker yanked hard on the control stick and Prometheus began to respond, slowly, the drone's maneuverability cut by half from the damage it took. The operators were not overly concerned, more like frustrated in the same way someone would be while playing ace combat and getting shot down by an enemy ace they should have seen coming.
"We should have disabled RADAR when we approached, that must be how they tracked us!" Joe muttered under his breath as Ryan tried to rescue the likely doomed drone.

KSB Wasp
"Roger roger, we copy Kilrany. Good too hear from you again Commander." Chris also smiled, when he realized what he was doing he wasn't sure it would work, "Its understandable... its not exactly a common means of communication in most places sir. As we said before the delay, our government would like to trade intel on this matter if we could. The deal currently as I've been told is we want to know any intel you currently have and in return feed you boys any intel we learn on site; not exactly flawless I know but we got some UAVs in route and stuff."

09.38. Novajev.

"Piet."
Mannorst looked up at his Rhodesian counterpart, then down at the spoor his friend and colleague indicated with the fingers of his left hand. As all good combat trackers, Wixley was standing to one side of the spoor - so as not to obliterate it with his own tracks - and the follow-on troops, in this case One Section, were formed up appropriately in a column fifteen meters behind Mannorst himself. Given that there were only two trackers available at this time, the other two working on a trail in an area of "suspected enemy special operations activity," they had forgone the flankers, something that deeply annoyed both the Afrikaners.

It had taken them five minutes of spiral-pattern searching to find the first signs of a survivor's presence in the shattered landscape of what used to be lush forest. Wixley followed the trail up three meters, then stopped and turned to where he'd first picked up sign. He followed it backwards to the origination point, not as difficult as one might think as the tracks were made *after* the bombardment had ceased. This dated them nicely, and the two Afrikaners and the remainder of the Red Stone mercenaries were exceptionally cautious due to just how fresh they were. The starting point was just behind a log, where there were fresh bloodstains.

Mannorst knelt next to Wixley. The two said nothing, the former Selous Scout and the former Recce recognizing the blood. Red and of normal consistency. This indicated that an extremity had been injured, not a torso or head wound. The blood did not form part of the spoor, this indicated either he stopped bleeding - unlikely given the probable seriousness of the wound, more than would scab over without him still laying here - or applied a field dressing of some kind. The two conducted a careful box search for the wrapper and found nothing, returning to the spoor. Weapons ready, they carefully followed the trail.

Wixley's left hand flickered forward by his hip. Mannorst stepped up and past him to take up the trail, Piet's gaze staying fifteen to twenty meters ahead of him to watch the trail, rather than staring down at the spoor by his feet. It was nessecary to do this for two reasons; firstly his peripheral vision would warn him of other's presence ahead of him, if there was an attempt to dogleg back and ambush the trail, secondly, this allowed him to keep up the speed of the track. Compared to some of the ZANLA terrs that Wixley had tracked, and compared to the training grounds and partners with whom both men had practiced their skills, the trail - once located - was a straightforward tracking affair, with so far no attempts at doglegging or spoor concealment attempted beyond what they determined was standard operating procedure for a well trained special forces operator. Who seemed to be wounded.

Halting momentarily, the two trackers headed back to the Fireforce section. His English now strongly flavoured with the Rhodesian accent he'd nearly lost working with Red Stone for so many years, Wixley halted next to Moss.
"Action belt. You walk my slack. We're only expecting one gook, like I told Novikov, but make it an action belt all the same. Dial it back too."

Moss looked up at the unfamiliar terms, understanding "slack" but not "action belt." "Dial it back" he took to be a reference to his FN-MAG/58's rate of fire, so he adjusted the gas regulator until his weapon would fire at 800rpms and not faster. Wixley understood the man's slight confusion a second later, explaining the pertinent concepts and apologizing before returning to Mannorst's side.

Novikov was speaking into the headset of the manpack radio when Wixley arrived, the radio operator ready to lash down the five meter whip antenna once the transmission was completed. It was a basic message, informing them that they were on a trail, the grid reference, direction of trail, estimated numbers and composition, and that they were approaching the coast, still on the enemy's tracks. The transmission ended at 09.41.

Diplomatic Communiqué

To: Pavel Kasatikin
From: Amanda Ethridge

Message:
Our reinforcements have arrived at our fleet location. Due to a change of plan the Marine Naval Taskforce presently stationed off Novajev will be replaced with a new Naval Taskforce carrying a rifle battalion. The new ORBAT for these forces is as follows:

2 Ivan Rogov Class Large Landing Ships
1 Kuznetsov Class Heavy Aircraft Carrying Cruiser
4 Kirov Class heavy Missile Cruisers
8 Neustrashimy Class Frigates
8 Sovremenny Class Destroyers
4 Akula III Attack Submarines

Once again we thank you for you assistance and would be happy to do anything we can to help you in this situation.



0930 East of Novajev Island

The fleet handoff had gone almost without a hitch, all the infomation that the Marine fleet had gathered was transmitted to the incoming navy fleet, alerting them to all known air defences in the area and the most up to date coordinates for the enemy fleet. The new fleet immediately began programming in the coordinates of the fixed air defence positions, checking that all their battle systems were working and loading a series of fighters to be launched if necessary.

Admiral Kurzev smiled, it was rare that anything involving the two different Naval forces went this smoothly but it had, the fleet had advanced to the same position as the Marine fleet, only about 30 km from the coast, because of the short distances involved the ships were all on alert, their weapon systems constantly manned incase of enemy missile attacks. A submarine picket was currently being set up, using a mixture of Neustrashimy frigates and airbourne KA-28 helicopters.

The fleet mission was simple, stay on station near the island and assess the chances of a succesful military campaign with few casualties. No one in Diggledom doubted that the islands could be taken, but at what cost? So the Admiral had decided to be slightly more daring than his Marine equivalent, first he would ensure his control of the sea around the island. To this end he had dispatched a Kirov Crusiers and half of his frigates and submarines to identify the enemy naval presence on this side of the island. As soon as they had identified them they were to report back and follow them, awaiting orders.

0945 - Novajev Island

Austen had finished digging himself into the side of the dune, the overhang completely hiding him from anything that didn't approach from the front of his hideout. After he had made his hideout he had done his best to remove any indicators that he hadn't just climbed the dune and started across the fields behind him. Just before he got into the little hideout he buried two grenades at the end of the dune and two halfway along it. He had jammed them in next to a rock before tying a piece of paracord to each pin and trailing it back to his hideout. When he had finished burying the string under a thin layer of sand he fed it into the narrow chamber he had dug in the earth under the dune and carefully began to perfect his camoflague, building up a thin earth wall at the front of his hide, making sure that it appeared the same as the rest of the sandy mud mixture making up the bank.

09.52, Novajev.

The two trackers and the associated rifle section from Fireforce halted between trees that had begun to thin out as the land transitioned into beach. Moving away to one side, bringing Mannorst with him, Wixley knelt and held a hand over his eyes. The angle he was at now allowed the sun to cast shadow across the tracks more effectively, making the trail they were following stand out much better at this distance. He saw no indicators that things were out of the ordinary, returned to the section, and forming into an arrowhead formation behind the two trackers, the element moved off again.

Their intervals automatically widened as they stepped out onto open ground, all heads seemingly on slow pivots as they constantly scanned the earth, sky, and horizon. Knowing there were fleets offshore and that they were likely pursuing a special forces operator, they had no desire to be caught in the open by an extraction force that would more than likely include ground attack capable aircraft to cover said extraction.

Nearing a dune, Wixley signalled a halt. Neither Afrikaner was willing to follow the spoor up over that dune without getting an idea of what was on the reverse slope first and carefully checking the area, just the standard prudence at this point. They rotated trackers, Mannorst taking the lead, as they and a battlepair from Fireforce made wide hooks around the dune to near the front of the feature. Mannorst repeated Wixley's earlier technique of using the sun to look for the trail, and not picking up the spoor again, grunted. Wixley, nearby, glanced across and saw the subtle shake of Piet's head.

Very carefully, the remainder of the section advanced forward as ordered. They were careful to walk to either side of the spoor, scanning the ground ahead for any abnormalities. Silently, Wixley made his way up to the hillock, then circled around, searching for spoor. Holding one hand up, he pointed down to the dune once he had Novikov's attention. The Russkyan nodded, and the Rhodesian carried on. Mannorst covered Wixley's moves, the stock of his HK-416 pressed into his shoulder and his finger on the trigger, safetycatch off and rifle set to full automatic. Wixley followed off up towards the field, as if searching for spoor with his eyes scanning the ground ten meters to his front, weapon ready but not up, not as if he'd detected an immediate threat. He circled back around, wide, to Novikov's section.

Kneeling next to the Section Commander, Wixley mentioned that he wasn't picking up the trail beyond this dune and that it was likely if they weren't already in the middle of them, there were antipersonnel devices ahead.
"Just to be sure though, I'm going to need a fireteam from your section and I'll take Piet with me. We're going to check out that field ahead just to be sure he hasn't gone ahead, but I think he's gone to ground down here."

"I'll call that in then. Loop around the danger area and get your search done, then come on back. We'll OP up here."

Just as silently as they'd arrived, the Fireforce men left the area. One fireteam went with the trackers, the other set up an observation post in the scrub between the forest and the beach overlooking the dunes. The latter worked to conceal their presence, and Novikov radio'd back to headquarters again, requesting that a helicopter be put on standby and another make a false extraction from a landing zone that was very close, within earshot of the dunes.

OOC: Once again, not happy with this, but it should do.

Even from within his ship’s CIC, Captain Lepp could easily hear the twin mounted, six barreled rotary cannons of the Kashtan-M roar on for a full six seconds up on deck, unleashing nearly eight hundred rounds of the massive 30x165 millimeter high explosive fragmentation rounds. Lepp looked on in amazement at the monitor showing him the image from the mast-mounted camera locked on the drone, he couldn’t believe that it had survived the barrage.

He murmured to himself, just barely audible to the combat station operator, “Lucky bloody drone.”

Typically the gun part of the Kashtan system had an effective range of four kilometers, however after it’s initial burst the target had left the favourable fire envelope for its guns, at least as far as the Kashtan’s command module had decided. As the drone continued to flee, the system set itself up for a missile engagement; its fire control radar locked on to drone and prepared to fire.

From his position in the CIC, Captain Lepp took note of this and quickly gave an order to his weapons operator, “Override that, cancel the missile launch.”

There was no hesitation from the operator, a quick couple strokes and the Kashtan system stood down, though he kept the system warmed up and on stand-bye, it simply was no longer tracking the drone, that was left to the ship’s primary radar array. He was curious however and he looked over his shoulder at his commanding office for a moment.

Lepp sensed the question on the mind of the sailor, “We’ll save our rounds for what’s coming at us.”

-----

The Kilrany Lieutenant Commander subconsciously gave a nod of his head as he replied, “Understood KSB Wasp. I however am not authorized to give out intelligence information to a foreign nation, to that end I have someone else here who will fill you in on what we can tell you, stand by.”

The Kilrany officer stood up from his chair and offered it to the imposing looking soldier who had been standing behind him. Dressed in the black uniform and armour of 5th Division, the operative made an imposing figure. The intelligence operative took the seat and made use of the communications equipment in front of him, he pulled a small electronic device from one of his pockets that he would use for reference on the information he was about to give out to the SaintB personnel.

The new voice had a slightly accented English and he didn’t give out his name or rank, “KSB Wasp, greetings. I have some detailed intelligence information here for you, I presume you’ll want to record this transmission for examination by your own personnel, so whenever you’re ready I’ll begin.”

When the response came, the operative began to speak, detailing most of the information available to the Kilrany, which included detailed information on the Novajev naval fleet, and most of the upgrades the Kilrany had done to the vessel’s electronics and weapons systems before selling them to the Novajev. Additionally he included known personnel information on the officers of the Novajev Navy, though they were not extremely detailed, more basic information. Finally he added to the report some of what the Kilrany intelligence had been able to discern from there own surveillance of the island; among this was information on the types of air defense systems being used by the Novajev and their general location along with the estimated troop strength of their forces, which was believed to be around two battalions worth of combat troops with additional support troops.

OOC: SaintB, since the Kilrany have not put ground reconnaissance forces on the island, their information on exactly all the Novajev ground forces have is not complete, as they still have access to weapon systems I have not mentioned in the RP since no one has actually conducted any serious ground reconnaissance on the island yet.

-----

At 09:50, Novajev time, the recorded message from the Novajev minister began to play on the open frequencies, letting the world know what was happening on the island, at least as far as the Novajev were saying. The new information provided there in spread quickly through the Kilrany chain of command, and seeing this as an opportunity to get their people off the island before any further hostilities erupted responded with their own message, sent by Minister Kasatikin, in which he indicated that the Kilrany would immediately allow the ferry service to resume. Germania on the other hand continued a wait and see approach, choosing to let the Kilrany pull out any civilians who wished to leave.

Within an hour of the Novajev broadcast, the ferry service that normally ran between Novajev and Kilrany reopened and two large ferries left a Northern Kilrany port bound for the Novajev port on the Southwest of the island. On board each large vessel was a platoon worth of Kilrany Naval Infantry, most of which were medics, as they wished to remove any injured first.

In response to the open statement by the Kilrany, Admiral Ekster immediately ordered that a message be broadcast across Novajev radio and TV stations that any foreign citizens whishing to leave the island may do so without hindrance from the ‘Novajev Army’, who were in turn ordered to help anyone having difficulty traveling to the port. Additional, in a hope of calming the situation, all Orbath personnel recovered, whether injured or not were being escorted to the port as well, where they would be able to board the ferries and travel to Kilrany, where they could attain passage back home.

-----

From her command, Admiral Renatus had a slight smile on her face, rather pleased by the latest turn of events that looked like it may diffuse the situation. She didn’t feel that the small island of Novajev was truly worth all the ‘fuss’ that had been raised about it in the past few days. Though given the number of foreign fleets present in the Tsyentralnoye Moyer, she could not fully relax just yet.

0945 Guryev Briefing room

“Right Sirs, here is the latest from the SATINT guys back home. The enemy appear to be a relatively well equipped mercenary force, with most of their defenses based around SA-17 Grizzly SAMs and Tunguska’s. Each side of the island seems to be semi-independent, each having a single large base, several smaller bases, a P37 type search radar and on the eastern side of the island a small airfield where the only visible craft are Mi-17 and Mi-24 helicopters. In the middle of the island in the north there appears to be an artillery depot, we have spotted gun pits for what appear to be heavy mortars, 120’s we think. There also appear to be a number of heavier weapons, howitzers of some form, the gun netting prevents us getting a definite ID but they are probably 155’s or 152’s. We have identified several smaller bases on the island, most being big enough to house one or two platoons with armored support in the form of BTR-80s. The team that attacked the area near Travoro was unlucky, from what the satellite can pick up the site was pretty much destroyed, but they are near an airfield and one of the smaller bases, meaning that not only were they outnumbered they were outgunned. Marine pukes ain’t as good as us.” The intelligence officer picked up his canteen from the table in front of him and had a quick drink, wetting his throat before continuing. “We can’t identify the radar system definitely but we had a satellite overhead during the engagement, so going on the reactions of the mercenaries it has a range that enables it to see the aircraft the marines launched. So that means that it has a decent range, somewhere in excess of 80 K. There also appears to be a small mobile system up in the mountains, around the north of the island. The enemy fleet all seem to be reasonably well trained, but they are a small fleet and they have spent most of their time trailing the Kilrany, since the aircraft launch we have been watched a little closer but I don’t think they know who attacked them yet and since they are such a small nation it is highly unlikely that they know much about us apart from the fact we launched aircraft and missiles. We aren’t even sure if they know that we are on the same team as the marines but I expect they have realised. The bigger enemy bases seem to be the Intel hubs, with semi-regular communication out put, probably regular checks on the other bases. That’s all from me folks, I will now hand you over to my colleague here.”

The intelligence officer gestured and another intelligence officer stood up, this one with the crossed rifle and telescope flash on his green uniformed arm, meaning he was a military planner.

“All these missions require no enemy navy interference, I have no experience planning naval operations, so I will leave that to your planners. The first series of missions would all based around taking out the three main radar installations. I was told to limit my ground operations to the eastern side of the island, so I only have plans to attack the nearest radar site. Since laser guided cruise missile appear to trigger some kind of alarm we have several choices, we could just saturate bomb the area with a flight of TU-160’s it lacks precision as does a naval barrage. This would turn political opinion against us, at the moment we are merely avenging fallen comrades, an innocent recon team. The main eastern radar site is mounted on the tip of a hill to add extra range, so it is visible from a long distance, what with the lack of cover in the area. We could always try to hit it with an anti-radar missile but that would probably be quite hard to manage without getting our plane shot down. In the end we decided on a slightly interesting approach, since the radar installation requires trained operators we could just take them out and leave the radar untouched, until the second phase of the plan, which we will come to in a minute. We could insert an army recon unit easily, but they are being saved for another mission so we are going to use a spetznatz unit. Now, the exact details of our mission….”

--------

0955 Novajev Island

Austen heard the sound of the helicopter, curiously muted by the thin layer of earth between him and the outside world. The four strands of paracord he carefully tied to sticks to make it easier to pull them before leaving them to one side. Working only by feel in the close confines of his self imposed prison he slowly slid his pistol from it’s holster and checked the slide, making sure that there was a round chambered, not that he would need it if all went well. He had used his grenades making the distraction trap outside, his first field dressing was already tied around his leg, which despite the odd stab of pain was remarkably benign. He carefully began to go over all his kit and uniform, checking that all the pockets were fastened, all the webbing pouches done up and that his ghilly suit was not obstructing his movement. Finally he slipped a bar of chocolate out of his pocket and gently broke apiece off before slowly beginning to chew, waiting for night to fall. After he finished his chocolate he made a decision, he would try to get some sleep, despite the danger that would entail. He stretched out and closed his eyes.

--------

0945 Guryev flight deck

On the deck of the Guryev, the Kuznetsov class aircraft carrier a flight of Su-33 Flankers were being outfitted for a special mission, their close in anti air missiles had been removed and replaced with a series of conventional 250kg freefall bombs and each plane had a pair of 500kg cluster bombs mounted on their wings, but instead of normal explosive clusters they had a mixture of anti-tank and anti-personnel mines mounted. The four planes would be needed soon if all went to plan, one that had already been explained to the fighter jocks in detail, one that they had all agreed would be a bloodless operation if all went well.


--------

0950 Forward Armory on Troopship 1

“Andrei, give me that thing you idiot.” Ivan pulled the SVU-AS rifle out of the younger mans hands and started to disassemble it, criticizing the incompetence of the man.

“Look, the firing pin comes out like this,” He said, demonstrating, “If you do it that way you will screw it up. And I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes if they decide it was your fault that it happened.”

The two men were in the armory of one of the troop ships. The “they” were the spetznatz troops that they were preparing the weapons for, they had already got a reputation for unbridled aggression, when the troops had been boarding the ship a fight had started between a pair of the sailors, it was only a friendly play fight but they had knocked into one of the men who had then broken one’s nose and the other had been knocked out when his head had been slammed into a metal bulkhead. They were brutal and violent but necessary, which almost made up for the other two. Nobody on the ship felt entirely at ease with them, usually enforcing a strict silence whenever they passed by, adding to the feelings of mutual dislike on either side of the divide. The only people not bothered by the ill feeling were the ships crew, all of who were used to Special Forces and were at ease with them around.

Karl was quite pleased as he stood inside the old Los Angeles class attack submarine’s control room, they were slowly approaching their final waypoint just ten kilometers North of Novajev as night began to descend upon the island once again. Between waypoint Juliet and India they had managed to safely increase their speed by several knots without risking detection, in turn they’d managed to shave nearly ten hours off their schedule, allowing them more time at their target coordinates to monitor Novajev activity.

Several moments passed before the intelligence officer, which Karl knew as Paul came into the control room from the stern crew compartments, half turning to look at the other man, Karl could easily see the excited look on the man’s face.”

“So we’re here? We’re at waypoint Kilo?”

Karl couldn’t help the smile that came across his face at Paul’s excitement, as much as he may not have particularly liked the man, he was definitely enthusiastic about the mission.

“Another few minutes and we’ll be in position, early, but yes.”

Paul came walking up past Karl to look at the chart laid out on the table before them both and made a check, “Most excellent, I presume this will give us plenty of time to monitor Novajev vessels before the signal is sent?”

“That it will.”

“Very good, let me know when we receive it.”

“Will do.”

With that Karl watched Paul quickly leave the submarine’s control room to go do whatever it was the intelligence officer did when was in his quarter. Karl merely shook his head and went back to watching the small skeleton crew drive his submarine for him.

It would be several minutes later when one of his men called out, indicating they had arrived at their waypoint before ordering the man at the controls to reduce speed slowly. More orders were given and a low powered directional sonar was quickly used to double check the depth of the water below them before they carefully put the old attack submarine on the bottom. Unknown to the crew, an incident on the island earlier in the day had drawn the Novajev naval patrol on the North of the island away to the East, much to the delight of the crew, who didn’t question the good fortune that was distracting their adversary.

“Excellent, raise the buoy, time to listen and wait.”

Ten kilometers due North of the small village of Volkova, the Iriani submarine lay it wait, a small communications buoy was released from a compartment on the submarine, attached to a line it rose slowly to an better depth to allow the submarine to receive a prearranged signal that was due to arrive at 1000 the next morning.

Roughly five hours after the incident at the Novajev air defense battery, and several hours before the Iriani submarine arrived, Osip Dal did his best to focus on the task before him as he carefully maneuvered the large high-speed catamaran ferry, similar in design to the HSS 1500, from his position on the vessels bridge. A native born Novajev, he normally wasn’t nervous piloting the large vessel into the port on Novajev’s Southern coast, but the current situation was far from normal. He had only to look up to his right to see one of the Novajev navy’s Pauk class fast attack ships escorting them in, though he didn’t recognize the ship type himself, besides the threat of being sunk that bounced around in his imagination, the presences of a half dozen fully armed and equipped Kilrany Naval Infantry standing about on the bridge around him added to his concern.

While the ferry was owned by a small Novajev company subsidized by the Novajev government and most of the crew were Novajev, it based itself out of the same Northern Kilrany port of which it carried its passengers from Novajev too. This was done for the simple reason that it was far cheaper for them to hire out trained Kilrany personnel and their facilities to perform routine maintenance then it was for them to train their own personnel and establish their own facilities on the Southern Novajev port, of which real estate tended to be in high demand due to the small nature of the island.

Typically the ferry ran two trips a day back and forth from Kilrany to Novajev, however at the outbreak of the apparent invasion several days before, the Kilrany had ‘grounded’ the ferry and the crew had found themselves with some unexpected leave as they worried about their home. While Novajev did have a small airfield in the Southwest near the port as well that could handle two to four aircraft; depending on their size, it was deemed inadequate for any serious air travel and thus the ferry remained the primary means of coming and going to the Novajev Republic.

It was only ten minutes later that Osip brought the ferry to a complete stop having nestled the large vessel into its special docking platform and sent a signal to the engineering room to let the engines power down to an idle stand by. Which the large ferry docked Osip, along with a number of other Novajev crewmen stepped over to the Port side of the bridge and took a look out at their home.

Much of what they could see was not terribly different, a large number of people and vehicles waited at the loading platforms, though included among them appeared to be unarmed, but still uniformed soldiers, he would only later find out they were Orbath Survivors. What really stuck out to him though was the full mechanized company and heavy mechanized platoon of mercenaries who had taken up positions around the ferry’s docking facilities both to ensure security, and to; surprisingly enough, render aid to anyone attempting to board the ferry.

-----

At the back of the ferry, which was docked into the special landing platform, the large doors that would allow boarding slowly opened up, revealing a full platoon of Kilrany Naval Infantrymen having taken up various positions with their weapons raised inside the ferry opening along with a full platoon of mercenary soldiers having done the same things on the outside. For several moments they looked at each other down the sites of their weapons, their appearance contrasting sharply with each other in both their uniforms and weapons.

Several more agonizing moments passed as the two forces stared each other down before they both slowly lowered their weapons and one of the mercenaries farther back near a corner in the platform slowly raised his hand and cautiously have a go ahead signal. Cautiously a number of stretcher-bearers began to file out from around the corner and walk towards the ferry, in their stretchers were mostly wounded Orbath soldiers rescued from the waters, the most serious of which were brought up on wheeled stretches. This handover went slowly however as they would only bring the stretchers as far as the point between the docking platform and the ferry, at which point a Kilrany would give a signal and some of their men would come out and carry the stretchers in and find a place for them.

For the people outside waiting to board the ferry, it seemed like a painfully lone wait, which only became longer as the mercenaries turned to bringing up the dead. Much like they did with the wounded, they brought up the dead in a number of body bags with a tag attached indicating who they though they were, there were far fewer dead then wounded however and there appeared to be no dead foreign civilians, though it included seven dead marked as unknown, which one of the mercenaries quickly explained as being from an attack in the Northeast.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity for some, the people outside were allowed to slowly file in through the enclosed platform under the careful watch of both the mercenaries and the Kilrany Naval Infantry. As the foreign citizens came aboard, the infantrymen checked their passports, this was done so they could be sent to specific sections of the ferry, though it was unlikely the Orbath soldiers had any passports, they were escorted to their own section in the ferry.

-----

Around 14:30, the same time the foreign citizens were being loaded unto the ferry a message began to play across an open channel from the Novajev network. Unlike the earlier message, this one was a voice transmission only and was not the same person as before hand.

“At this time we wish to announce that all foreign citizens who have chosen to leave Novajev during this unfortunate and misunderstood incident are doing so now, the Kilrany Empire has agreed to allow the resumption of ferry service to the Novajev Republic and as this message is being played, they are boarding a ferry that will take them to the Kilrany Empire where they can there find transport back to their respective nations.

Additionally, as an act of good faith despite several unprovoked and reckless attempts to violate out national sovereignty, which resulted in the deaths of many Novajev citizens, we are handing over all Orbath soldiers, wounded, dead or otherwise to Kilrany custody, where they in turn may find transit home.

This will also be the case for remains of seven unidentified bodies, who we believe were a special forces element to an as of yet unidentified nation, who attempted to assault a Novajev Army position, despite the numerous deaths caused, we wish to move on without an increase to the current tensions, as a result their remains have also been turned over to the Kilrany Empire. Too whomever these men belonged to, they may approach the Kilrany Empire for the return of their remains.”

1445 Guryev Bridge

"Sir, they are releasing all the foreign citizens from the island. Do we still have to go ahead with the extraction?"

"The orders haven't changed, get the ships into position. Prep the planes and get everybody into position.

The fleet were slowly moving into position along the Novajev coast, one small battlegroup was opposite the earlier landing site a Kirov Class heavy Missile Cruiser, 2 Neustrashimy Class Frigates and 2 Sovremenny Class Destroyers were sitting offshore, their weapons trained on the newly updated positions for the relocated anti-aircraft site.

The main fleet was slightly further south, opposite the static P37 radar site, their weapons trained on the big radar site on the brow of the hill and the mercenary base that was just over 2km south-east of the radar. There were also two "hunt" teams made up of a Kirov Class heavy Missile Cruiser, a single Neustrashimy Class Frigate, 2 Sovremenny Class Destroyers and a pair of Akula III Attack Submarines. The entire fleet was on alert and ready to launch attacks if they were threatened.

“Well now Commander, you may begin.”

Admiral Rinat Ekster calmly looked up at one of his subordinates from behind his desk located in an appropriated office space somewhere underneath the Novajev capitol of Anjukov. Built nearly twenty years ago, it was partially a bomb shelter and command center for members of the Novajev government in case of invasion. Despite the seemingly poor concept, it was nonetheless built and kept secret in the process.

The uniformed Novajev naval officer gave a quick nod of his head before he laid out a small printed map of Novajev on the Admiral’s desk.

“The ‘evacuation’ of foreign citizens went without any difficulties, there were a few delays as they were checked over by the Kilrany, but there were no incidents. However through comparisons with customs information, we’ve identified two hundred and seventy-six people who either did not get the message, or were to frightened to make their way to the port.”

“I presume you’ve dispatched some men to check up on them and ensure they are made aware they may safely leave the island.”

“That we have. I believe it’s also important to note that the Kilrany embassy staff and guard have remained and are still at the embassy here.”

“That’s a good sign. Go on.”

The subordinate officer didn’t quite understand, but he continued anyway, “Salvage work has begun on the equipment damaged in the attack earlier this morning, however the engineers feel there’s not a great deal that will be terribly useful without an entire rebuild, if even then. One of the reserve units was called up and is now in place and active.”

“Have you managed to identify vessels that attacked us?”

“While we’ve been able to confirm that they do not belong to any SFR navy through what limited ELINT information we’ve been able to detect in our area, we don’t have the means to make a positive identification. Though they don’t appear to be directly communicating with local naval forces.”

“I see. Has the fleet taken up their new positions?”

“Yes sir. Captain Repin is continuing with his original orders on the West coast,” here the Commander referred to a Steregushchy class Corvette and two Pauk class fast attack ships under Captain Repin’s command, currently maintaining the original independent operations orders, spread out from North to South some ten kilometers off the coast.”

“Captain Lepp has moved his primary force East as ordered, though he has left the other three ships on their original orders,” in this case he referred to the three Neustrashimy class frigates, Steregushchy class Corvette and two Pauk class fast attack ships on the South coast. While the smaller ships continued independent operations ten kilometers out, the three frigates were no longer matching positions with the Kilrany fleet farther South, they had instead moved to farther East, while still on the South coast, roughly ten kilometers South of Kharovo.

“Captain Rublev and Soroka have taken their ships farther East and North, respectively as ordered and are operating on high alert should we come under attack again, they stand ready to fire,” now the Commander referred to the Northern and Eastern ‘fleets’ which were each comprised of a Steregushchy class Corvette and two Pauk class fast attack ships. Both were now formed up and operating roughly ten kilometers North and East of Travoro, respectively. Unlike the earlier instance in which no action was taken on the unknown ships when they attacked, they all now had orders to engage at will should it happen again.

Admiral Ekster nodded his head, partially pleased things were going better then they were earlier, “And the ground defenses?”

“They stand ready as well, should anyone attempt to attack us again, we are prepared to give them a very nasty surprise.”

“Excellent, and the modifications to the aircraft?”

“The mechanics report that both MI-17s have been modified and are ready to begin work. One will be in the air at all times beginning in the next half hour.”

Due to the lack of any proper airborne early warning radar and lacking the runway space to maintain them, old plans made when the military budget was still small had allowed for the use of a radar system, the same used aboard the Ka-31, to be jury rigged to some of the Novajev National Police’s Mi-17s in the event of invasion. Though mostly an obsolete plan, simply buying proper Ka-31s had been over looked and time had allowed Ekster to have the old plan enacted in the place of trying to acquire such aircraft on short notice.

Once again Ekster nodded his head slightly, “Very good, anything else?”

“Yes sir, it would appear that the ‘special operations’ group, the Fireforce mercenaries, believe they’re on the trail of a survivor of the Special Forces team that attacked the air defense battery this morning.”

“I see, very well then, keep me updated on that, you’re dismissed.”

“Yes sir.”

-----

It was around sixteen hundred hours when the Novajev ferry landed back in Kilrany under a far heavier guard then was normal. While it was not unexpected by those passengers who had originally gone to Novajev through Kilrany to see ISM officers guarding the customs at the terminal, they were surprised to see a larger number of them backed up by a two full companies of Kilrany motorized infantry.

The Orbath soldiers who had survived the incident were escorted by the Kilrany military personnel through the terminal without having to go through customs like the foreign civilians, they were instead loaded aboard several busses and transported directly to an Kilrany air force base where they would be housed until the Orbath government could dispatch civilian transport planes to pick them up. The seven dead Diggledom soldiers who were as yet unidentified were transported to the city’s morgue until they’re bodies were claimed.

Unlike the soldiers however, all the civilians had to pass through Kilrany customs and undergo the routine there in, after which they were transported by bus to hotels where they would be able to arrange a flight out of the city to one of the handful of Kilrany international airports where they could then board a flight for their respective homes. For most this process went smoothly and relatively quickly, for one man in particular however, difficulties arose.

“Afternoon sir, do you have anything declare?”

“No sir, just my briefcase here with my files,” the forty-two year old Slavic man shook his head and returned the pleasant smile of the Kilrany customs official as he handed his passport across to him and despite the presences of two of the heavily armed ISM officers standing behind the customs agent he didn’t appear nervous.

Given the situation most of the foreign nationals were in, the customs agents had been informed to expedite the usual procedures, especially since most had boarded the ferry only with what they could carry on and were cleared through security already. The agent took a moment to look over the passport before setting it down and typing on his computer, “A Russkyan I see, vacation or business? Please place your hand on that panel please mister Barkov.”

The man placed his hand on an angled panel which scanned his handprint and brought it up in a small screen next to his file on the agent’s computer, a moment later he pressed another key and it quickly began to scan the print against those on the black list, “Business, though that’s not going to help me much anymore with these problems on Novajev.”

“Indeed, by your passport here I see you flew to Novajev originally from Me’I, that’s a little unusual for the Russkyan isn’t it?”

“Not so much if you happen to be a business man who’s important to their economy.”

The agent acknowledged with a slight nod of his head, a moment later the computer screen signaled him that the print did not match any on the black list and he prepared to hand back the man’s passport. Taking a last look over it something caught his attention and he pressed a special key on the keyboard then feigned typing again, “One moment sir.”

Several moments later three ISM officers came out a door not far away marked as security and came towards the agent and Barkov, as they approached the agent looked up and addressed the man, “There is a slight problem here sir, please follow these men to the waiting room until we can sort this out.”

For the first time the man looked a little nervous, understandably so, but he nodded his head and followed two of the officers back towards the door while the third remained behind for a moment, “What seems to be the problem Isaac?”

The agent looked at the ISM officer and handed him his passport, “The Russkyans use day, month, year on their papers, this is month day year, either it was a typo or this is a fake.”

The officer nodded his head as he took the passport, “I see. I’ll give the Russkyan consulate a call and see if they know this … Vasil Barkov.”

-----

While the ISM officer was making the call, Vasil waited in a holding room, though it was far more comfortable then he expected, fairly large it contained several comfortable chairs that sat around a small table with numerous magazines on top of it. He took a seat and set his briefcase done on the floor before taking a seat and waiting.

In Kilranograd, the Russkyan Consulate was a three storey building in the same walled compound as the Embassy. The two were seperate, distinct structures, the former looking and functioning much more as an office building, the latter being a combination of well turned out offices to garner respect with delegations from nations that did not value practicality over form, a ballroom, a superlative and rather large kitchen, and a barracks hall for the security personnel.

On the second floor, the ringing telephone was accompanied by an irate grunt from Pyotr Suvorov who glanced away from the glowing screen of his computer long enough to pick the handset up off its cradle. A direct call, he didn't have to fumble with any of the black buttons to select the appropriate line or other such "convienences" he'd never learnt how to use efficiently.

"Russkyan Consulate, Passport Office."
"Security Liason, downstairs. Question for you Pyotr, do we have a Vasil Barkov on record and is there any chance we had a mistake at the printer's and have some passports that are Mike-Delta-Yankee instead of Delta-Mike-Yankee?"

Suvorov clasped the phone handset between shoulder and tilted head, fingers flying over keyboard, inputting data into the appropriate fields and tapping enter with a decisive clack.

"Just a minute Boris. We've got four Vasil Barkovs on file. All have appropriate passports with Day-Month-Year, none were ever issued with a Month-Day-Year misprint by mistake, and one of these Vasil Barkovs died shortly after birth."
"What's the ochestvya on the one that died at birth?"
"He's yours - Borisevich."
"I don't and didn't have any kids, but OK, Borisevich Barkov. His passport doesn't have a patronymic."
"And he's carrying a name also shared by a dead child."
"Quite, Pyotr. Well, I'll have to alert RISS and tell the ISM to hold him. Thanks for your help."
"Nyet problema Boris. Goodbye."
"Goodbye."

Pyotr Suvorov replaced the phone in its cradle and leaned back in his chair staring at the screen. Bad drills on the part of whomever forged this passport; they'd made an assumption that turned out to be wrong and they'd messed up the date formatting on the passport. Sometimes death certificates in Western countries were not readily available for those who had died very young, making it a relatively easy matter to get a birth certificate and then create a false identity. However, in Russkya, the only time a birth certificate was seperate from a confirmation of demise certificate was when the bearer was very much alive and kicking - and this particular birth certificate for Vasil Barkov, No Patronymic had the dark cream envelope of a death certificate stapled to it when he called up his counterpart in Russkya itself.

“Lucky bloody drone.”

Those words were repeated by Admiral Heart as she recieved her report, once again roused out of bed. "What all did we get?"
"About 2 minutes of video and we got 27 stills at various zoom levels, we are going over them now. The ships seem to comprise mainly of Kilrany's Pauk Class fast attackers when we ran them through our database, we thought that the one we examined in particular had some differences but we are as of yet unsure, the angle is funny and we are studying it; the pictures were kind of low quality because we were flying so close to the waves."
"Very well, anything else to report?"
"As of yet no m'am. We are working on getting Prometheus repaired and refueld but with thier fleet moving in an unpredicted course we might have to speed things up, meaning we may need to land our lions on that island to get some good recon."

2145

20km east of Bitarjev - Guryev - Kuznetsov Class carrier

“Sir, all the assets are in place. The cut off groups have called in as ready, they are fully loaded and ready to attack. The enemy fleet placements have been input, the SATINT guys are working fine with near perfect download speeds, things are as good as they will get.”

Admiral Kurzev nodded, more to himself than to his XO who had just addressed him.

“I just wish there was some other way we could do this Vladik. But the Emperor is being stubborn, I have my orders and I will carry them out. I just wish there was some other way. Send the required codes. I think I need a breath of fresh air.” The admiral stood and walked out of the door, his face a mixture of sadness and anger. Vladik paused for a second, he knew what his Admiral meant, this was almost entirely preventable, but like he had said, orders were orders. Even if they would cause unnecessary bloodshed, which these certainly would. He walked over to the rating manning the secure comms unit on the bridge and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Send the message.” he said, before adding under his breath, “Forgive me.”

20km east of Bitarjev - Zarya - Kirov Class heavy Missile Cruiser

The turret was already pointing towards the shore, all they had to do to prepare to fire was elevate the turret, the two barrels edging slowly upwards. The entire battle group was connected across the BATNET, the target positions relayed between the ships. The entire group were targeting the main enemy base, with a single Sovremenny class aiming both its main turrets at the large P37 radar site on the hill near the middle of the eastern side of the island.

22km East of Travoro - Bobruisk - Kirov Class heavy Missile Cruiser

The first sign that the message had been received was one of the most intimidating sites that the cruiser could produce, the massive AK-130 turret slowly turning to acquire the targets on the shore, the dual barrels slowly raising to the perfect angle for the long distance bombardment. The radar signature of the solitary Mi-17 with it’s jury rigged radar system was already fed into the massive S-300FM missiles, mounted in the VLS in the deck of the cruiser. The two minute countdown had begun, allowing all the weapon systems to be checked and ensure that all the systems were fully operational.

14km East of Travoro - Orel - Akula Class submarine

Captain Marchuk nodded at the comms operator, before saying a single word into the phone to the torpedo room, “Fire.”

The six 533mm torpedo tubes were already open, the four 650mm tubes were loaded but not opened, ready to fire if need be. As soon as the word reached the torpedo room they punched the fire button, each of tubes flicked a VA-111 torpedo out, already travelling at over 90km/h. Shortly after the torpedoes were launched they fired their rockets, turning them into what was effectively an underwater missile, starting the 4km journey, eating up the distance at a rate of 1km every 10 seconds. Each enemy ship was targeted by two of the torpedoes, hopefully negating any chance of the enemy managing to avoid destruction.

If all went to plan the other northern Akula class would manage to take out it’s three targets, then him and his sister ship the Forel would have the biggest bragging rights in pretty much the entire Diggledom navy.

18 km South, south east of Kharovo - Izmail - Akula Class submarine

As onboard the Orel the submarine was launching 2 torpedoes at each of the targets, this time from a slightly further range, in an attempt to avoid the possible return fire from their weapon systems.

“You don’t say . . . yes, I understand. We will be sending him to barracks thirty-seven in Vana if you wish to have a few words with him yourself. Thank you for the information.

Officer Thon, the same ISM officer who had taken the passport from the customs agent not long before hand and which he still held, had just finished his conversation on the phone with the Russkyan Consulate. He placed the phone in its cradle and looked over at one of his colleagues nearby, “According to the Russkyans, our mister Vasil Barkov died shortly after birth.”

His colleague released an amused grunt, almost as if he had just been told he had won twenty-dollars, “Well now, he looks pretty good for dead person.”

“Doesn’t he though. We should go congratulate him on his health.”

“Indeed we should.”

Less then five minutes later Thon and the two other officers opened the door to the holding room where Barkov patiently waited and walked in. He was instantly hit by the very confident nature of the man inside, comfortably seated in one of the chairs reading a magazine, his briefcase sitting on the floor next to him; he appeared to have no concerns at all.

“Mister Barkov, we seem to have a problem with your passport,” to emphasize his point, Thon held the passport up in his left hand while his Blackthorn combat shotgun rested on a tactical sling in front of him.

To his surprise, Thon saw the man lower the magazine and merely frown slightly, as if it were still a simple misunderstanding, “What do you mean? What’s wrong with my passport?”

Thon simply stood there for a few moments holding the passport up, not quite sure what to make of the ‘Russkyan’ seated before him, either this man is just one unlucky son of a bitch and there’s been a mix up, or this bastard is one damned good actor, “Sir, we contacted the Russkyan consulate, according to them, you died shortly after you were born. Do you have any explanation for that?”

The man seemed genuinely flabbergasted by his statement, but Thon had seen some pretty good actors in his time and wasn’t about to simply dismiss this somewhat glaring problem so easily, as the man replied he and his colleagues moved closer, “But … that can’t be right, they must have made a mistake, they gave me this passport, I …”

It was at this point that Barkov’s façade disappeared and Thon saw a more serious look upon his face as he realized the jig was up and he attempted to shove away officer Fedin, who had circled around behind him. The response was rather quick and painful for the man who clearly had no combat training as officer Fedin, who thought the man was attempting to grab his weapon, half turned his own body to the left and slammed his slightly padded right elbow into the man’s left temple. With the sudden blow to his head the man was disoriented and staggered to his right, making him an easy take down for the other two officers who quickly forced him to the ground and handcuffed his hands behind his back.

He was starting to regain his senses as officer Thon and Herzen lifted the man up to his feet and took him out of the room to a waiting patrol car that would transfer him to ISM barracks, officer Fedin quickly grabbed the briefcase and moved along behind hem.

-----

OOC: Just to note, I’m assuming these are keel breakers.

Unaware that the Diggledom attack submarines were in the area, though suspicious that they were, the crews of the Novajev naval vessels listened intently to their passive sonar during the stretches between their periodic active scans. Though they were perhaps inexperienced at anti-submarine warfare, they were by no means incompetent with their equipment, so when the very distinctive and loud noise of supercavitating torpedoes being launched was heard the sonar operators sounded the alarm.

In the Northeast the lightweights of the Novajev navy had the shortest amount of time to react, a mere forty seconds. Normally torpedo engagements were long agonizing affairs where the crews of naval vessels could have as much time as several minutes to wonder if they would evade, but with new faster torpedoes, it was almost as short as a missile engagement.

Within ten seconds the orders were already being yelled out by watch officers and the bearing and speed of the incoming torpedoes were already calculated and passed on, however their primary concern was survival, rather then attempting to kill the enemy submarines. With this in mind they did not order their sonar active, instead their commanding officers orders crash turns away from the incoming torpedoes and the deployment of the ships’ defensive systems. Additionally their communication systems blared out on their encoded frequencies that they were under attack by as of yet, unidentified submarine contacts.

Already at fifteen knots they had the speed to initiate their turns, above deck on each ship noisemakers were jettisoned by an automated system on both the Starboard and Port sides controlled from the ships’ CIC rooms. In three second intervals three such noisemakers launched out of small tubes, the first traveled only a short distance of five meters, while the second and third where shot out farther, fifteen and thirty meters respectively from the sides of the ship to create a level of noise on par with a surface warship’s engines and ideally confuse a torpedoes guidance. Additionally a single buoy was also jettisons directly off the ships’ stern using the same cold launch method, this one would drop into the warships’ wakes and create both a false electromagnetic signature and send out active sonar sweeps to both confuse the incoming torpedoes as to the location of the enemy ships, and transmit to the warships their active readings.

With their decoys launched and their evasive actions taken, they had less then fifteen seconds to pray that their decoys would draw in the incoming torpedoes and save both their ships and their lives.

Despite their best efforts all three Novajev vessels off the North coast and spoofing half of the torpedoes fired they each took a hit from the two hundred and ten kilogram warheads of the VA-111 Shkval torpedoes fired at them. While the Kilrany had modified the original designs with reinforced hulls they by no means had the ability to survive a direct hit from a torpedo and their keels were shattered. Small ships as they were, the likelihood of survivors was low.

The three ships on the East coast had much more luck then their Northern compatriots though they still lost a Pauk class to a direct hit, the other two ships, a second Pauk class and a Steregushchy corvette managed to evade both torpedoes sent after them.

Both surviving ships’ crews shifted then from survival to revenge and began to pound out with their active sonar to track the submarine that had given away its position on the Eastern coast. Anger took hold of crews of both ships as they quickly dialed up their engagement computers and ordered a launch of two of their SS-N-29 anti submarine rockets, sending a total of four after the enemy submarine that was presumably attempting to flee the engagement area.

Similar in concept to the American ASROC, the Russian SS-N-29 was little more then an unguided rocket that after being fired in the direction of the target, would deploy a small parachute at a predetermined position, allowing it to drop into the sea at which point the torpedo would activate itself and home in on the target using either active of passive sonar.

Some four kilometers out, one by one the four missiles dropped into the sea and the torpedoes activated, attempting to seek out their target.

On the South coast, the three Neustrashimy class frigates had taken similar action as their Northern compatriots and in turn had similar results, two of the three Novajev frigates did not survive their encounter with the Diggledom torpedoes, however the third managed to evade.

However unlike the ships to the North, these three ships each were supplied with a Ka-27, of which two were airborne at the time of the initial attack scouring the seas around the three vessels with their passive sonar. A mere three kilometers away from the Izmail, the flight crew heard the torpedo launch and went active with their dunking sonar and bringing their helicopter to bear on the direction of the hostile contact, dropped both their two thousand kilogram conventional driven torpedoes into the water, which quickly went active after their target.

2146

18 km South, south east of Kharovo - Izmail - Akula Class submarine

“Talk about crappy Intel! Why weren’t we warned those bastards were up there?” Captain Kiselyov muttered, running quickly through the options in his mind, most torpedoes designed for anti-submarine work wouldn’t work against surface targets, they couldn’t even target them, due to the concerns over friendly fire. Surfacing would probably work. That would have been an acceptable option if it wasn’t for the frigate left alive and irritated on the surface. He couldn’t surface and despite the double layered hull if the torpedoes hit him then he would be in trouble certainly and probably dead. The only other choice he had would be to try to spoof them, launch a decoy and hope that the torpedoes went after that, but since they were using active sonar even they were unlikely to work.

He had been running the different plans through his head since the torpedoes had hit the water, nearly twenty seconds ago.

“Launch decoy tubes 1 and 2. Fire a full spread of noise makers. Keep tubes 3 and 4 in reserve. Fire all four of the Stallion missiles, screw nominal hit rate and all that. Initiate a crash surface and get an AA team to the tower, when we surface I want missiles in the air immediately.”

The Akula III had unique design, with six externally mounted torpedo tubes that could only be loaded in port or by a specialised submarine tender. These had been loaded prior to the mission with a pair of the VA-111 torpedoes and four slightly modified American MOSS MK70, which had been resized and modified by Diggledom engineers. The two decoys flashed out of the tubes, one heading in a wide turn, as if running away from the contact, the other beginning a tight circle. The four 650mm tube doors opened, each firing a SS-N-16 missile, they quickly floated upwards in their waterproof sheaths, as they hit the surface they cracked open, each launching out of the water and accelerating past mach 1 as they headed towards the final ship. Four men had rushed to the conning tower, grabbing the two Igla launchers in the weapon cages at the bottom of the stairs before stopping just beneath the outer hatch, waiting for the craft to surface.

Then the wait began, it wasn’t as long as the normal engagement wait because the torpedoes were dropped nearly on top of them. Both the torpedoes lost their contact in the flurry of sounds and bubbles the noise makers had released. One chased after the running MOSS and the other started after the circling MOSS. Then it all went wrong for the Izmail. The MOSS hit one of the spent noise makers, normally this would have no effect but unluckily the MOSS hadn’t been manufactured to the best standards, on the inside a piece of soldering cracked, disconnecting the power supply, the MOSS suddenly stopped being the big juicy target and instead became a slowly moving hunk of metal. The torpedo went from following the MOSS to going back after the submarine.

The torpedo started to track the new target, which was heading for the surface, it sped after it, meeting the tail section of the Akula a mere 11 metres from the surface. The explosion pierced the outer hull and the inner hull began to leak slightly too, the submarine being turned from a highly advanced piece of hardware, to a badly damaged, urgent repair needing, leaking, shelter for 78 people.

The submarine broke the surface bow first at an angle in a massive burst of spray, the missiles would have reached the ship by now, whether or not the destroyed it didn’t matter. They no longer had a choice. The conning tower hatch opened and the missile teams climbed out quickly, immediately prepping their launchers and firing. They managed to launch one missile apiece before they heard the tannoy blaring the abandon ship recording. Joining with the rest of the crew they quickly boarded the inflatable’s that had been launched, bobbing in the sea.

“Well, govno. That is all I have to say.” The other AA gunner looked over at him and grinned.


14km East of Travoro - Orel - Akula Class submarine


Each of the SS-N-29 rockets deployed correctly, the parachute flicking out and the rocket diving neatly into the ocean with barely a ripple to show it’s entry. As the rocket entered the water it changed from a rocket to an active search torpedo. Luckily for the Orel the Akula III all had the latest sonar intercept receivers, coupled with their noise makers they formed a relatively effective defence against the smaller torpedoes, as soon as the torpedoes had failed to destroy the ships they had started to launch the noise makers and try to move away from the ship. Their primary mission was still to eliminate the enemy shipping presence, they had the same load out as the Izmail, both their captains had been friends since they left he naval officers college, so he reacted the same way. Even as he pulled his sub backwards out of the battle zone he launched his load of missiles, this time two at each ship, with much less hope of destroying both the enemy ships. Just as he fired the four rockets entered the water forwards and above him. The water around their entry point was already filled with bubbles and random pings from the two MOSS drones in the water. The smaller seeker heads on the SS-N-29 weren’t as powerful as the larger torpedoes dropped by the KA-27’s, so they were a lot more confused by the noises and bubbles. One went completely wild and convinced that the submarine was directly underneath it dived for it, pushing it’s engine into over drive and burning it out before sinking. Another pair of them started to follow one of the MOSS’ circling it as it followed it’s only lazy route, boosting all the sonar returns from the torpedo heads. The final torpedo was switching between targets, first tracking one of the MOSS drones, then the other and even occasionally the submarine itself. It finally gave up and chased the biggest target, the MOSS drone the other two had ignored. As the information was relayed throughout the sub everyone sighed with relief, disaster having been averted by the narrowest of margins.

Captain Soroka, the commanding officer of the remaining Novajev naval assets on the East coast didn’t have time to lament on the sheer providence of the unknown submarine that had managed to survive the four SS-N-29 anti-submarine torpedoes. While they were small in comparison to those dropped by the Ka-27 on the South, at eight hundred kilograms each, they were by no means small in comparison to most torpedoes dropped from helicopters and over one hundred and fifty kilograms heavier then the American ASROC.

The two surviving ships were just turning on a bearing nearly due South; they were still traveling at fifteen knots so their passive sonar could continue to listen for the hoped destruction of the enemy submarine and to allow for the Ka-27 on the Steregushchy to lift off when their radar operator saw four contacts appear on his screen. Before he could call out a warning, the threat analysis system had determined them to most likely be anti ship missiles and blared out a warning to that effect.

At mach one, they only had around twelve seconds to react to the incoming missiles, though since they were launched from a submarine they didn’t have a positive lock on each ship from a fire control radar and their guidance systems would have to independently pick out their targets as per their programming. This came as little help to the to Captain Soroka as three of the missiles locked on to his Steregushchy class corvette while the fourth locked in on the Pauk.

Already on full alert, their defensive systems were already on standby, they quickly kicked into gear and their ECM blared outward, though the automated system decided that its more active defenses would only interfere with their own radar and could prevent their CIWS from functioning properly. In turn, both ship’s Kashtan-M systems opted for a missile engagement and launched one of their modified SA-N-11 surface-to-air missiles. With their high degree of accuracy and their continuous-rod warheads, there was little hope for the first two missiles targeted and they were swatted out of the sky a safe distance from their intended targets. This would not be the case for the last two missiles.

Had the Pauk class not found itself with a bad angle its own system would have been able to assist their lead vessel in averting the strike, as it was it found itself unable to fire without hitting the Steregushchy. As the last two missiles closed range, the Steregushchy’s forward gun mount had finally come to bear and fired off two rounds ineffectively before the Kashtan’s twin GSh-30k came to life with a deafening roar. It only took a single round to penetrate the missile’s fuselage and it erupted in a long plume of scarlet and silver flame a mere eighty meters from the ship peppering the forward superstructure with high velocity shrapnel.

The fourth and final missile had no contention in its flight, neither ship capable of taking it down before it impacted the stern superstructure of the Steregushchy just forward of the ship’s helipad. Captain Soroka felt the ship shudder under his feet from within the CIC, moments later he felt a second shudder in the ship’s hull. White hot shrapnel, a mix of both pieces of the Diggledom missile and the ship’s own hull had peppered the Ka-27 attempting to lift off, shredding through the cockpit and the pilots. One such piece of shrapnel had found a home in the aircraft fuel tank and the entire aircraft exploded catastrophically on the ship’s deck.

Soroka cursed loudly as his crew issued orders dispatching the damage control teams.

“Communications! Order the Nitikin to continue South immediately and inform command we have taken heavy damage, we will attempt to repair, but we may have to abandon ship.”

The crewmen paused momentarily before finally responding and carrying out the order.

-----

While the Pauk class known as the Nitikin increased speed to over thirty knots on course South, Captain Lepp was attempting to prevent the organized chaos of his CIC from becoming total chaos. His being the sole surviving Neustrashimy class frigate he was also attempting to make sure it continued to survive some more.

After surviving the torpedo attacks he had been prepared to order a retaliatory strike against the attacking submarine but called it off when he received word from one of their surviving helicopters reported their engagement. Leaving it to their two surviving ASW helicopters, he chose to have his crew focus on attempting to rescue any survivors from the other two ships of his force that were quickly slipping below the waves. He however found that moments later he had to cancel that plan as well when two missiles were picked up inbound for his ship.

While Lepp’s ship was dealing with the incoming missiles, the closest Helix continued to track the hostile submarine with its own sonar, not so easily tricked as a relatively simple-minded guidance system of their own torpedoes, at the same time the second Helix bore down on their location at high speed some distance off. The aircraft’s systems operator puzzled at the sudden change of aspect on their target, quickly coming to a realization.

“The bastard’s surfacing!”

No sooner did he say this did the two look up in time to see an explosion erupt in the sea followed a fraction of a second later by the attack submarine breaking the surface. They both looked stunned for a moment to see both the submarine surface in such a manner and the fact that it had survived a hit from torpedo and its rather large warhead, which was only amplified by being under water.

“Raise the dunking sonar.”

The SO worked his controls as his pilot gave him the order and the dunking sonar began to reel inwards as the pilot increased power and gained altitude.

Several seconds later their threat warning board began to blare at them loudly, indicating that infrared guided missiles had been fired at them, both of them caught the glimmer of their rocket engines in front of them. The pilot reacted quickly by pitching his helicopter back down; losing what little altitude they had managed to gain momenta before as their defensive systems punched out several flares.

Despite the frontal aspect attack by the MANPAD launchers, which was usually ill advised due to the limited infrared signature presented by that angle only one of the two missiles was decoyed by the flares. The second missile stubbornly chose to home in on the helicopter itself despite its limited signature and impacted just above the cockpit between the aircraft’s engine air intakes shattering the upper portion of the aircraft and instantly killing the aircraft’s crew.

As the wreckage tumbled into the sea, Lepp’s ship had just finished destroying both inbound missiles and recorded the destruction of their ASW helicopter, much to the anger of the crew that instigated numerous curses.

Despite this loss the Diggledom submariners were not in the clear from aircraft as the rotors of a second would be clearly heard as the other Helix came barreling in, nearly in a full rage, the pilot intended to strafe the submarine and crew using its thirty millimeter cannon pod. Still a few kilometers out, Lepp had enough time to get communications re-established with the aircraft to determine its intentions and order it to hold fire, for which the pilot grudgingly acknowledged, but continued in towards the stricken submarine.

2147

18 km South, south east of Kharovo - Izmail - Akula Class submarine

Captain Kiselyov swore when he saw the wreckage floating, he had hoped more to scare the enemy off rather than down him, but what was done was done. Now they would be pissed as hell and they all had heavier weapons. Most of the crew had evacuated the submarine, the entire front half was clear but there were still some remaining around the reactor core, though they should be out in the lifeboats soon enough.

Pyotr rushed towards the reactor control panel, quickly running through the sequences in his head needed to shut the core down. He had been an engineer on nuclear subs for his entire career, nearly thirty years and if there was one thing he wouldn’t let happen it was a nuclear accident. Even if his sub was going down. He could hear the sound of the flexing under the pressure of the water, he was already worried about how long they would hold due to the damage done to them by the torpedo. He typed quickly, the computer lowering its defences as each new password was entered and new commands typed in.

A loud crack sounded behind him, echoing through the nearly deserted submarine. Ivan stepped into the room,

“Come on Pyotr, we have to leave. Now!”
“No, just a few more seconds. I am nearly there.”

There was a sudden tearing sound, a rasp of metal against metal, followed by a thud as the engine hatch door slammed open, pushed by a torrent of seawater. Pyotr had time to hit the button finishing the sequence before the wave of water slammed him back against the bulkhead, leaving a trickle of blood from his ear. Ivan grabbed Pyotr and started to pull him towards the escape hatch, they never made it.

Thirteen of the crew were still in the submarine when the metal finally gave way, the tail section actually cracking off, splitting the submarine part way down it’s length before quickly slipping below the surface of the water.

14km East of Travoro - Orel - Akula Class submarine

“Full silent running, take us as far down as you can. We will try and lose them among the clutter. The admiral knows what to do.”

The submarine was running quietly, all the noise cancellation devices up and running, even the active noise cancellation. Since it was all working there should be little in any passive sonar return and even on active mode search the ocean floor clutter should shield them from search unless the search was almost directly overhead.

20km east of Bitarjev - Naval Taskforce

With one loud roar the entire taskforce began firing. 22 AK-130 guns and 6 AK-100 guns all firing, most of them firing at the main roads around the base at Chilkov, instead of the normal high explosive shells they were firing mine laying shells, as each shells neared the ground it split open, scattering 6 mines around it, 2 were conventional anti-tank designs, large with a explosive formed penetrator that would fire upwards into the underbelly of any armoured vehicle, the other four were spherical mines that contained a liquid explosive, they ejected 6 trip wires and would then detonate if they were touched. To prevent any long term problems all the mines were designed to self detonate after 8 hours, so the roads would probably be clear in the morning. If they needed to elongate the lock down, all they had to do was fire another volley or two.

The single Sovremenny class was aiming at the large radar installation on the hill, focusing all four of it’s AK-130 guns on the solitary radar site on the hill, instead of the sub munitions shells it was firing the normal high explosive shells, planning to eliminate any chance of the radar site working, so that the Diggledom forces would have full control over the airspace over the east side of the island.

22km East of Travoro - Naval Taskforce

The task force opposite Travoro began firing as well, most of their shells being launched towards the new air defence site with some launched towards the smaller airfield. Two S-300FM missiles also flicked out of the Bobruisk cruisers VLS, headed towards the Mi-17 that had the jury rigged radar system engaged.

Admiral Sofia Renatus stood leaned in over the large display inside the KIN Fiery Dawn’s CIC, next to her were several of her command staff and a pair of the 5th Division intelligence officers. They had all been alerted by the on duty officers about sudden shifts in the Novajev naval assets and Renatus herself had arrived in time to see their representative icons begin blinking, indicating that while they still had radar contact with the ships, they had ceased to radiate with their own radar, though this had only happened with six out of the nine naval vessels.

When the Novajev naval vessels still active with their own radar had fired missiles, they had briefly been concerned about anti-ship missiles and battle stations had been ordered on all ships in the Kilrany task force. It was just before the missiles dropped off their radar that they realized what was going on; their passive sonar had picked up the sound of in one crewman’s words, ‘A hell of a lot of noise,’ and they figured it they must have been under attack by submarines, a belief that was only confirmed when they picked several missiles show up on their radar from out of nowhere.

The background murmur in the CIC grew as orders were issued at increased regularity as the situation continued to degenerate in their eyes, missiles were flying, ships were sinking, a submarine apparently surfaced and a helicopter was shot down. To make matters even worse, the fleets combined radar coverage picked up the shells fired from the Diggledom surface vessels, leading them all to finally come to the conclusion that the submarines were also most likely Diggledom. As they saw the icons representing the shells disappear over Novajev territory, Renatus mentally took note of the fact that the Eastern most EW radar had suddenly stopped radiating according to the display.

“What the hell are they doing? They were letting foreigners leave the island without problems and there are still some still on the island. They’re putting their lives in jeopardy by doing this.”

Before Renatus could reply to her staff officer who had spoken, one of the 5th Division operatives spoke up, “Obviously they must believe whatever gain they get from this outweighs the costs.”

Renatus could sense the, ‘no shit,’ response that the staff officer wanted to say but didn’t, wisely choosing to remain silent before the 5th Division operative. She was less concerned with the safety of the Novajev however, her concern were solely in regards to the men and women under her command as this attack by Diggledom was a clear and open attack against Novajev, there could be no excuse for it, which may force the Emperor to declare war on them lest they breach their promise of protection to Novajev.

It was an outcome she hoped would not come about.

She was about to speak when several warning signals blared out from a threat detection terminal behind them, in turn several red icons appeared upon the primary display moving rapidly away from the Novajev coast Eastward. She watched for a moment as the number of contacts grew, obviously missiles by their small size and speed, they were making almost directly for the Diggledom ships outside Novajev national waters.

“Analysis, what do we have on them?”

“The computer doesn’t recognize them, they don’t correspond to any land based missiles we knew the Novajev had.”

Renatus hid her curse under her breath before she responded, “Check under the FLRJ comparisons for land launched missiles.”

It took several moments but the reply came, “Shit, they correspond with SS-N-26s.”

Renatus quickly looked up towards the 5th Division operative she had figured to be in charge of the intelligence group, “How the hell did you miss those?”

His response was simple and straightforward, “Inactive TELAR are not hard to hide from satellite surveillance Admiral, and we had no eyes on the ground to conduct proper reconnaissance for such things.”

She knew no good would come of this, they had originally sold a modified version of the SS-N-26 to the Republican faction during the FLRJ civil war to help them deal with the large number of their capitol ships whose crew had sided with the Fascists, “God damnit this is bad.”

-----

When the North, East and South Novajev naval assets had all called in to their command center indicating they were under torpedo attack, the initial assumption was that it was simply a prelude to a larger strike and alerts had been sent out to all ground units. While they would be proven right several minutes later, there was little most of the units could do in the meantime until more specific orders were relayed, namely where to move out to, so they simply went on to a sort of stand by alert.

When the naval artillery began landing, organized chaos broke out. At the Eastern radar site, there was simply no way to protect such an installation from artillery shells and the radar itself was first disabled by high velocity shrapnel tearing through its light frame before a round happened to hit the system directly, obliterating the somewhat mobile radar while the systems command vehicle managed to come out relatively unscathed, as it was dug into the ground, offering it significantly more protection, though its crew suddenly found themselves absolutely useless with nothing to control anymore.

Father to the North, the newly set up air defense battery found itself similarly badly off. While the lower half of their vehicles were safely dug into the ground, offering most the vehicles’ crews excellent protection, there was none for the upper half where the vehicles radar and ordnance resided. Those TELAR not unfortunate enough to take a direct hit, found their delicate radar systems and missiles shredded by high velocity shrapnel. The Tunguskas found themselves better off though, while some of their missiles were now reading damaged on their controls and thus useless, along with their fire control radar, their guns were still fully functional.

A kilometer South of the air defense battery, the airfield had very little defense against artillery being previously used merely for civilian and limited police activities, as such their hangars were not armoured in any fashion, though the mercenaries who made up the Novajev Army who guarded and worked at the airfield had wisely dug in when they build their small shelters where they would sleep. Needless to say however the helicopters were easy game for the shells landing around them, most avoided being hit directly, but the high velocity shrapnel made sure that none on the ground save for one very luck Hind would be lifting off again any time soon.

At two hundred meters off the ground roughly two kilometers South of the airfield and just slightly East of Khlishev, the pilot of the Mi-17 toting about the jury-rigged early warning radar cursed loudly when his threat detection board told him that a fire control radar had locked onto this aircraft. Knowing that the operators in the passenger compartment monitoring the feed from the radar had set up a constant link with their command, the pilot quickly issued a warning that he was taking evasive action and pitched the helicopter’s nose down as he cut power. In the back the operators and the flight engineer held on for dear life as the helicopter seemed to drop like a rock to them as it pumped out several chaff packets.

Quickly dropping altitude the pilot pulled back on his flight stick to bring the nose back up while at the same time increasing power, however, while he was quite familiar with his Mi-17 and its handling, he was not used to flying it with the added weight of the jury rigged system and the aircraft dropped farther then he anticipated. Flaring backwards he managed to stop his aircraft’s drop a mere ten meters off the ground.

He only had a moment to breathe a sigh of relief at both stabilizing his aircraft and breaking the radar lock by putting himself between Khlishev and the incoming missile before he heard a loud crack and his helicopter shuddered. The jury rigged radar had not been built to withstand such a violent maneuver and the forward connection snapped free from the helicopter, in turn the radar swung down below, already stressed, the rear connection snapped a moment later and the radar smashed down unto the ground below the Mi-17. Though the pilot cursed loudly, he was still happier to have damaged equipment then being dead.

Farther South, at the primary Eastern base, the sight of the mines spread out around their exit points prompted quick orders to deploy their combat engineers. After five minutes of surveying the situation they told their immediate superiors that they estimated they could clear the roads themselves of mines within two hours, assuming of course they didn’t come under fire or more mines were deployed.

-----

Shortly after the shells had finished landing, the Novajev command center, located in the capitol city of Anjukov sent out an encrypted signal containing information on the last known position of the Diggledom vessels. The signal was instantly received by three separate command vehicles in three separate, heavily concealed positions, one at the edge of a forest West of Khlishev, one just within the grounds of a farming complex a kilometer Northwest of Chilkov and one near the heart of a large forested area West-southwest of Saprovo.

At the farming complex orders were quickly sent out over radio and not far from the command vehicle, a small side door to a large warehouse opened up and a half dozen soldiers came out fully armed and wearing night vision equipment. They took a moment to double check the area before two of them moved over to two large hangar style doors and proceeded to open them up as the sounds of diesel engines starting up inside could be heard.

No lights lit up the complex, having been taken over by the mercenary forces shortly after landing; the family had been moved to a hotel where they would not interfere with their operations. In the darkness surrounding the complex, five larger vehicles, similar in appearance to the TELAR for the S-300 came driving out of the warehouse one by one. Atop each vehicle were two large launch tubes just over nine meters long.

Using night vision equipment it only took them a few minutes to prepare the vehicles and erect the launch tubes into their firing positions. Once done the command vehicle supplied each TELAR with the same information, the last know positions of each hostile ship near their coast to the East, which was quickly imputed. Moments later the launch sequence began and one by one, at three sites, the nine meter long Kilrany modified SS-N-26 anti-ship missiles launched free of their containers, and accelerating quickly up to their cruising speed of just over mach 2, pointed themselves towards the Diggledom ships on a lo-lo profile.

While typically the missiles had a minimum engagement range of fifty kilometers, one of several modifications to the original design made by the Kilrany was to significantly reduce this restriction. Once over water, they dropped down to a mere five meters as their ramjet engines pushed them through the sky as its independent control system chose its target based the range and importance of those presented to it.

As they bore down on their targets, these highly advanced Russian anti-ship missiles choose the largest of the enemy vessels as their priority targets while the control system maintained a memory of all ECM and ECCM data used during its flight. Alternating between its multiple guidance systems, active, passive and homing the missile cross-referenced this data as well, attempting to pick out the real target amongst the ECM no doubt deployed to fool it while its stored data attempted to determine what type missile/gun system would attempt to kill it and take evasive action against it.

While the missile had a cruising speed just over mach two, it would increase speed to mach two point five on its terminal run as it attempted to kill its target with a two hundred and fifty kilogram high explosive semi-armour piercing warhead. As the final ‘coup de grace’, the missiles had the ability to recognize when another missile in the swarm had hit the same target they were aiming at and choose another. Currently thirty of these missiles bore down on the Diggledom vessels, with the larger ships, such as the Kirovs, being their initial priority targets.

-----

As the Diggledom submarine broke up and sank beneath the waves, the Novajev Ka-27 performed three orbits around the area, the pilot resisting his urge to seek revenge and open up on the surviving crew with his aircraft’s cannon pod. Upon the completion of his third orbit he received orders from Captain Lepp to return to the frigate as it broke Westward to regroup with the Novajev vessels on the Southern coast.

-----

It was nightfall by the time the Kilrany ISM cruiser had arrived outside ISM barracks number thirty-seven, though it was an unusual term to use by most nations standards, it was simply the Kilrany’s term for a police station given the military nature of the ISM. It had been a quiet ride for both officers, their ‘passenger’, only known to them as Vasil Barkov hadn’t said a word the entire trip, though this didn’t bother either officer in the slightest.

Pulling off the street they came to a stop for a moment at the barrack’s garage entrance, guarded by three ISM officers, their IDs were checked before they were cleared to drive in. Once inside they pulled up near an elevator entrance where three other ISM officers waited for them. Here they handed off their prisoner and his briefcase, allowing the barrack’s ISM officers to take custody of him to let them return to their current post at the port.

Five minutes later Barkov found himself sitting on a bench waiting alone inside a holding cell, outside of which the same three ISM officers who had taken custody of him in the garage completed some paper work and chatted amongst themselves.

Leaning up against a bulkhead near the submarine’s control center, Karl’s mouth opened wide as he released a quiet yawn that in a futile effort he tried to stifle. He was always annoyed when he felt the need to yawn, especially when it wasn’t all that late to begin with. Eventually he just shrugged the thought off and took a walk around the control room.

After checking on several of his men at their stations he came around to look inside the sonar control room. Inside only one man monitored the equipment, as with their skeleton crew they were short handed as it was. While the old attack submarine sat on the ocean’s floor, he was currently tasked with listening in to the movements of the Novajev navy. They had all been a little confused when they had arrived and found that the Novajev naval assets on the North were all gathered farther to the East, being out of contact with their command they had no idea of any recent developments since they entered the Zuiderzee Strait.

He was about to move off when he noticed a strange look come across the sonar operator’s face who hadn’t noticed him nearby yet. Several seconds passed before the operator half turned to activate the intercom to get Karl’s attention when he suddenly realized he was right there.

“Sir, I’m getting a lot of noise coming from the East about where those Novajev surface vessels are.”

“What kind of noise?”

“Sounds like they’ve just come under torpedo attack, decoys, hell of a lot of noise.”

Karl looked surprised for a few moments as the possibilities ran through his mind, “You think it might be the Kilrany attacking them?”

The operator shrugged his shoulders, “I couldn’t tell you that, but something’s going on and it sounds serious, I …” he stopped for several seconds as he listened intently before he continued, “I got impact, sounds like multiple hulls breaking up … whatever just happened, the shit has hit the fan out there.”

“Well now … keep listening, anything comes our way you sound the alarm, otherwise we’ll have to wait until morning for communications to come through.”

“Yes sir.”

At the airfield, the off-duty Fireforce commandos - the vast majority of them - bounced up off their cots with hands reaching for weapons as the first shell impacted. Debris clattered down on the roof of their housing, and they immediately piled out both entrances and made a record distance sprint for the slit trenches. Tumbling in, sometimes taking a few sandbags off the parapet with them on their way into the trench, the mercenaries waited for the barrage to stop and took inventory of the supplies they had with them.

Most of their materiel was dug into sandbagged bunkers about five meters below ground level, so anything other than a direct hit from a very large caliber gun would fail to destroy them. One of the Fireforce men stuck his head over the parapet just in time to see an Mi-17 explode into shrapnel, ducking as the tail rotor skidded across the tarmac to stop a few meters short of the trench. He turned to his comrade, bellowing over the noise of the barrage.

"I hope they realize they're putting those civilians at risk and stop soon! It'll be shit trying to explain why our charges are red smears to the boss!"

His comrade simply tapped his ear and shook his head as a shell detonated nearby. Wordlessly, the gesture meant: Can't hear a thing. Sorry, try again later.

Diplomatic Communiqué

To: Pavel Kasatikin
From: Amanda Ethridge

Message:

Diggledom forces have been forced to begin a larger scale engagement of the Novajevian rebels. We know that Kilrany has signed a pact with Novajev, but we would like to point out that the people we have engaged aren’t a legitimate government, they have kidnapped our citizens and when they detected our troops, they opened fire immediately, without any attempt to communicate with our forces.

We acknowledge your right to defend your borders and your need to honour your alliances so we can give you our assurances that we aren’t looking to invade the island, once we have rescued our remaining special forces operatives and if possible restore a legitimate government that is Diggledom friendly.

20km east of Bitarjev - Guryev - Kuznetsov Class carrier

“We have weapon launches! SATINT provides 3 launch sites, total of thirty missile launches. No definitive identification but the launchers are nearly identical to the S-300 TELAR. All the ships have been warned, PD’s are up and running. Damage results will be here soon.”

The missiles were aimed at the two groups that had done the shooting, the Khlishev site firing all ten of it’s missiles towards the Diggledom Naval forces opposite Travoro. The ten missiles were flying towards the Kirov as per their programming. The defences arrayed against the missiles were relatively impressive however. Because they were bombarding the shore they were all broadside to the shore so that both their forward and aft guns could fire they also had the largest number of CIWS facing the oncoming missiles, 4 on the Ivan Rogov, 6 on the Kirov class, 4 on each Sovremenny and 2 on the Neustrashimy class frigate. This made for a total of 22 Kashtan weapon systems, the Diggledom navy having replaced all the anti-air gun systems with the Kashtan due to their increased lethality against small, fast flying objects.

Due to the orientation of the ships only thirteen of the weapon systems were facing the oncoming threats and could engage, but that was more than one gun per missile and with each system having a kill probability in the high .90s it was likely that most of the missile would be eliminated. If you could ignore the dull roar and the chance of imminent death it was quite a sight, each Kashtan firing two missiles, the twenty three missiles each leaving a slight trail in the dark sky as they rocketed out as soon as the system decided that the enemy missiles would be in range.

Each 2.5m long missile boosted out of the missile pod, the larger booster stage accelerating the missile to over 900m/s before falling away, leaving the missile heading towards the incoming cruise missiles. The two waves of missile collided at nearly 8km from the ships, the missile attempting to get within 5m of the target missile before detonating, the 9kg warhead covering the area around it in fragments of steel.

The SS-N-26 missile was highly advanced, capable of picking individual targets and in the terminal phase they would begin evasive manoeuvres, the 9M311-1M missile was the latest design with a range over 10km. Since the terminal phase started at nearly 25km out they were already rolling, diving and twisting in the air, but still every single one of the missiles located a target and detonated. The SS-N-26’s were all travelling at 680m/s, meaning the missiles were coming together at slightly over mach 4 so over half of the missiles detonated too late. Even so seven of the cruise missiles were destroyed, the remaining three missiles closing in on the ships, taking 6 seconds to get within range of the 30mm Gatling guns. They started firing as soon as the missiles were within 4km, firing rounds at a rate of nearly 12,000 per minute. Four rounds slammed into the lead missile, the kinetic forces involved ripping the missile to pieces, turning it into a tumble of flying debris. The second missile successfully evaded the incoming fire until one of the rounds hit the missile in the middle of it’s fuel store, causing it to become a flying ball of flame, hitting the ocean less than a kilometre from the Kirov. The final missile evaded all the incoming fire and slammed into the bow of one of the Kirov, the armour piercing warhead easily piercing the armour, once inside the armour plating the missile detonated, 250kg of exposive turning the missile into a deadly hail of fragments. The front bulkheads stood no chance against the forces involved, the concussion wave ripping doors from their hinges, flipping containers of stores around and flinging twenty three of the nearby crewmen around. Seventeen of them were killed, a mixture of fragmentation wounds and concussion effects wounding the rest enough to require the emergency medical team to arrive and help the team trying to deal with the twisted metal.

The second, larger group fared much the same, destroying most of the missiles before they reached the group, two made it through, one hitting a kirov and one a Neustrashimy frigate, completely destroying one of the frigates when they detonated it’s cruise missile stores and the third causing damage to one of the Kirov, killing thirteen of the forwards crew and damaging the forwards VLS cells buried in the deck.

As soon as the weapon launch had been detected some fire had been returned, the three launch sites each receiving a short barrage of the 130mm shells. A rescue taskforce had been prepared, all they were waiting for now was the result of the latest SAT scans of the area around Travoro, in an attempt to prepare for the oncoming battle.

The troops were being delivered by landing craft, but to get within landing craft range the entire task force around Travoro had to slowly start forwards, moving towards land steadily, the men of the 3rd Rifle Regiment preparing for battle.

“Have we got a fix on where those missiles were launched from yet?” Admiral Renatus’ question was aimed at staff officer who was reviewing the raw data of the incident along with several other crewmen near one of the primary terminals.

“Not yet ma’am, though we have narrowed it down slightly, sending that information to the display now.”

She looked back down at the display in question, currently focused more on East of Novajev, including the Diggledom forces moving towards the coastline. Three large, semi-transparent red ovals covered over sections of Novajev, the computer’s extrapolation of the possible launch sites for the Novajev SS-N-26 missiles. Their radar had only managed to pick them out of the background clutter created by the Novajev forests, villages and the larger Northern mountain range after they had cleared their launch areas.

“Understood,” she then shifted her attention to one of the 5th Division intelligence officers who was in the process of communicating with his counterparts over his personal role radio, a conversation she could hear neither side of due to the type of ‘microphone’ they used, “Has satellite surveillance got anything yet?”

The operative held up his hand for a moment in a classic, ‘just a moment’ shape before he finally did respond, “They did Admiral, according to them they picked up several unexpected heat blooms from here, here and here,” as he spoke he used a side panel to input coordinates, which replaced the large oval shapes with significantly smaller circles.

“I see … what do you figure the Diggledom’s game plan is?”

“Difficult to say at this time, they obviously got a sighting on their launch positions before we did, or at least they thought they did, as you can see their shells being picked up by our radars inbound in their general direction. Though unless the Novajev are fools, those TELAR will already be leaving those areas, they’re not the threat anymore anyway. I’d be more concerned about other launch sites at this point and the Novajev navy itself. We have no information on how many there might be, let alone if they have the capability to rearm those TELAR that have fired.”

“Let’s assume they do, we’ve already been caught off guard once by the Novajev and we weren’t even the ones they were aiming for, if it’s possible for them do to it, we will work on the assumption that they can until proven differently. Thoughts on the what the Novajev navy will do?”

“Understood, and I have a few. As you can see that Pauk that survived on the East is burning a hole in the water and the Diggledom appear to be ignoring it. At its current speed it will be around the Southeast tip of Novajev in about three minutes, it’s a safe assumption it’s moving to regroup with the other naval vessels on the South where their ships are out of the line of sight of the Diggledom naval vessels’ radar. We’ve yet to confirm the presence of any airborne early warning radar in the possession of the Diggledom though, moot point as they would be right now, any aircraft within forty kilometers of the Novajev coast would be a target for their air defenses still active or even operating on passive receivers.”

The operative paused a minute to change the primary display to a more encompassing image of Novajev including its Eastern coast, “As you can see, their three ships on the East are also making good speed South, I presume they’re going to group up in the South with their remaining ships and counter attack the Diggledom fleet.”

Renatus half turned to the threat analysis section, what do the Novajev have on their surface ships for anti-ship missiles again?”

It took a moment for the crewman to check his files before he responded, “Of the surviving Novajev vessels, their Neustrashimy class frigate is armed with SS-N-25s, sixteen ready to fire. Their two Steregushchy class corvettes each have six SS-N-27s, and their Pauk class’ should each have four SS-N-22s. Though is all assuming they didn’t replace them with something else.”

Before the Admiral could say anything the 5th Division operative addressed her, “That’s unlikely Admiral, they do not have the facilities to do that on their own and I can guarantee you their ships haven’t been to any other such facilities besides our own.”

“I see. If memory serves me properly we supplied this information to the Diggledom correct? They would also know what these ships are capable of?”

“Yes. Though they wouldn’t know if those missiles have been replaced unless they had been watching Novajev prior to the outbreak of this incident as we have been. Given their apparent hostility and the possibility of being forced to take action against them, it would seem that it was an unwise idea to supply them with as much information on the Novajev as we did.”

Renatus raised an eyebrow to the operative’s comment but didn’t say anything in regards to it as she was used to working alongside them and knew what they were generally like already. While the Kilrany were not exactly known for an abundant sense of optimism, 5th Division always made even the most negative and skeptical Kilrany look like one in comparison to 5th Division’s apparent view on foreigners.

Standing up straight the Admiral decided to address everyone in the CIC with a loud but clear voice, “Our previous orders still stand, until we receive word otherwise we will maintain our patrol course.”

-----

The scene inside Emperor Ivan Sviatov’s main office was fairly quiet and relaxed despite the gathering of representative officers from the six combat branches of the Kilrany Imperial Armed Forces, two 5th Division operatives present as it pertained to their intelligence role and the half dozen 1st Division soldiers armed with assault rifles on guard around the room. This rather informal approach was preferred by most of the group when it came to situations like the one they were in now, where there was no immediate threat to the Kilrany Empire, more specifically a threat of a strike on the rather large Kilrany Imperial Palace and its equally large grounds.

The Emperor’s office was spacious and was not often seen by those outside Kilrany, mostly used for duties concerning the state and for meetings such as this, only a handful of foreign diplomats; a number easily counted on one’s hand, had even been this deep into the building. Just inside the large pair of doors that served as the main entrance to the office, a pair of rather large comfortable looking couches rested currently in use by the six military officers. Half way in the room on both the left and right, between a number of bookshelves lined with books of all sorts were two single doors, less dramatic in appearance then the main doors and serving more practical purposes.

Sviatov himself had only recently returned from Khurzav, which he had traveled to discreetly under heavy guard to see for himself the situation transpiring there, and more specifically to speak directly with the commanders of both his own forces and those of the foreign peacekeeping forces to gain a better understanding of the situation there. Currently he stood near his desk listening to the briefing of the current situation rather then sitting behind his desk, it was an old habit of his to often prefer to stand rather then sit.

At the age of twenty-nine he was not the youngest Kilrany ruler in the Empire’s history, not even when he had originally become the Emperor at a mere twenty when both his parents and older sister were assassinated by Virinov separatists; though any celebration they may have had after their success was short lived. Although he was rather tall, a trait that ran in his family, he had no particularly distinguishing characteristics; being neither terribly attractive nor ugly, besides a small horizontal scar immediately above his right eyebrow, which he sustained in an assassination attempt on his life, an attempt that was made public to no one. Dressed in his usual black tailored outfit, it was often remarked snidely by some of the more hostile foreign media that he was the poster boy for the stereotypical evil empire, often to both the amusement and frustration of the Kilrany; in reality he wore what he did for personal reasons not known outside certain members of the Imperial Guard.

Not far from Sviatov stood Captain Grigori Hakanov in an almost parade rest stance, the only 1st Division soldier in the room not armed with an assault rifle. Dressed in the usually black uniform and armour seen on both 1st and 5th Division personnel, he had the honour of being in charge of the Emperor’s personal guard, though this was something of a technicality, as every member of the Kilrany Imperial Guard were the Royal Family’s protectors. For the sake of practicality, a smaller number were around him at all times, not counting the additional 1st Division soldiers who regularly guarded the Imperial Palace and those called upon to provide additional security should it be believed necessary from the 1st Division ranks.

The subject of the meeting was somewhat mundane and straightforward, how to deal with the open attack on Novajev by the Diggledom, of which opinions varied. The officers for both 2nd Division and the Air Force felt that Novajev was simply not worth declaring war on a potential friend while those for 3rd and 4th Division, along with the army officer felt that action had to be taken lest they loose face by not honouring their word, while the navy officer held the belief that they themselves should be the ones landing on Novajev shores to deal with this situation, not a foreign power. Oddly both 5th Division operatives had remained fairly quiet aside from the information they had provided on the situation, which led Sviatov to believe that they themselves were split on the issue as well.

Despite the disagreements the conversations remained civil and Sviatov listened intently as they all expressed their views and their reasons for them before they finally turned to look at him, awaiting his words. Sviatov chose to take a few moments of silence to consider the options presented by the situation and his military advisors before he spoke.

He was in a difficult position as he saw things and he was limited to three options, none of which he cared for. All the reports he saw indicated that Diggledom could be good friends of the Kilrany, a commodity the Kilrany had in short supply, though high quality those few friends were. Should he honour the Kilrany word and order the military to defend Novajev, there was little doubt they would lose that potential friendship of the Diggledom, but to stand back and do nothing at all was not an option, the Kilrany were known for many things, most unpleasant, but they were not known for breaking their word, or trying to wiggle out of an agreement through technicalities and loopholes. In the end he had to choose the third option for the time being.

“We may not need to act, the Novajev have fortified themselves well and almost half their surface fleet is still active, they may not need us to come to their aid,” he could see the looks from some of the officers who were unsure of this course of action, and he understood them, but he didn’t show it as he maintained his composure, “We shall reassess the situation come morning, we have never broken our word before and we will not start now, but I will not go blindly into war so quickly.

-----

Daniil Nosov cursed loudly along with his section mates when the covered truck they were in hit a substantial hole in the dirt road they were on and they went flying upwards, he himself nearly hitting his helmet on one of the roll bars. Their truck was the tail end of a convoy of eight vehicles in total made up of the five TELAR, command truck and a second troop truck moving along a dirt road cutting through the large forest to the West of Saprovo.

After firing off their missiles they had loaded up quickly and were now attempting to put as much distance between them and the launch site as possible. Little to his surprise they could all clearly hear the sounds of numerous shells hitting behind them moments later, many of the burst they could also easily see through the darkness of the night and forest.

They weren’t the only ones on the move however as eight armoured vehicles and four trucks moved down from the North, coming to a stop within the town of Kurlov, four of the vehicles unloading troops who took up positions around the town.

-----

The man known only to the Kilrany as Vasil Barkov continued to sit quietly in his own little holding cell as the three ISM officers outside of it also continued to chat amongst themselves, their paper work apparently done. He hadn’t said much over the time of his stay to the officers aside from asking for a lawyer, which they acknowledged and put a call in to the public defenders office to have someone sent down.

One of the officers who happened to be seated a few meters away from where the two were standing apparently got bored however and he reached down and lifted up the briefcase that had come along with their new guest. Checking the briefcase he tried to open it and got lucky, he hadn’t reset the combination lock after he had to open it for the security at the dock facility.

Flipping the cover up he was immediately struck by the sheer ordinary appearance of its contents; ordered and fairly neat, there wasn’t anything that stood out, not a business man himself, the officer figured it was exactly what one might find along with a small Blackberry like electronic device in the corner. Almost shrugging he was just about to close it when something about the top section of the briefcase caught his attention, a slight gap between the case and the lining.

2152

20km east of Bitarjev - Guryev - Kuznetsov Class carrier

The relative silence after the two minutes of echoing booms of the heavy guns was uncanny, the noise dissipated quickly over the open water. The entire fleet had stopped firing, weapons still trained on the shore, smoke curling gently from the barrels. All the off-duty personnel were now awake, the noise of the barrage having woken the proverbial dead. Most were still in their bunks but there were some that had wondered up topside, watching

The admiral thought it likely that the quick barrage had damaged the enemy launchers, if not destroyed them. His basic plan was simple, while the southern group were going to keep a satellite enhanced eye on the main eastern base and the two southern most anti-aircraft sites the northern group would send in the troops in an attempt to rescue the remaining special forces operative. In theory the entire mission should be done by the morning, they had a decent satellite fix on where the special forces operative had gone to ground, they didn’t have a definite fit but they had all the code word identifiers so that if they dropped some troops in they could evacuates the operative and pull out straight away. The Ivan Rogov was close enough to launch the rescue team in a pair of Ka-29 transport helicopters, as soon as they launched the rescue operation they would launch a pair of Su-33’s to provide any air cover necessary and if it was secure they could try to rescue any of the surviving Novajevian troops.


14km East of Travoro - Pskov - Ivan Rogov Landing Ship

Two of the Pskov’s four Ka-29 helicopters were active, their double layered rotor blades spinning up. One rifle platoon was mounted up, all the troops knew what was going to be happening, as soon as they landed they would move out, the two helicopters providing air cover and the rest of the troops searching for Austen, hidden somewhere within a hundred metre square.

The two helicopters lifted off together, their pilots having already completely organised all the details of the flight, they were soon roaring across the ocean towards Travoro.


North Eastern Beach on Novajev Island

Austen slowly stretched his leg out, a nasty grating sound emerging from his knee. He had decided to move out of his hide, to that end he had prepared his personal radio with the signal booster, readied his pistol and swallowed his last painkiller, ready for the final effort. He made a small hole in the soil wall, just big enough to see through. He waited for a couple of seconds before looking through the hole, slowly moving his head so he could see through the hole before starting to push his hand all the way out.

21.52, North Eastern Beach, Novajev

Kliment hissed back at the others in the OP. "Movement!" His partner was prone beside him, stock of the FN MINIMI light machinegun snugged into his shoulder. The weapon's ammunition was stretched out in a linked belt of a hundred and fifty rounds, every fifth round a tracer. Wixley reached for the radio handset and keyed the transmit.

"Romeo One, Foxtrot Oscar Papa One. Over."
"Foxtrot Oscar Papa, Romeo. Go ahead, over."
"Romeo, Foxtrot Oscar. Movement on our target. He's breaking earth. Acknowledge, go."
"Foxtrot Oscar, Romeo acknowledges, over."
"Romeo, Foxtrot. Please advise, go."
"Foxtrot, Romeo. Attempt a snatch, acknowledge, go."

Wixley rolled his eyes and stared at Piet, seated across from him. He hadn't heard the transmission from higher headquarters, the volume was turned far too low for anyone but the Rhodesian to hear, but the his commander's facial expression spoke volumes. He leaned in and raised an eyebrow. Wixley was speaking quietly and low, whispering was never as quiet as you think you are.

"They want us to snatch him."
"What?"
"Snatch him. We need to go capture him. Ja?"
"Ja ja, Wixley. Unbefuckinglievable, mate. Well, let's go get him."

"Romeo, Foxtrot. Wilco. We need a helicopter, over."
"Foxtrot, Romeo. Don't have one to send at the moment, airbase took a pounding. Take the objective and hole up for extraction at later time, acknowledge, go."
"Romeo, Foxtrot. Wilco. Foxtrot Oscar Papa out."

Piet Mannorst tapped the machinegunner on the shoulder and spoke quietly in his ear, telling the man to fire ahead of and around Austen, pin the man down and keep his head low. He spoke to Kliment next, telling him to come with him. Wixley stayed with the radio and the machinegun, acting as a loader for the weapon and readying another belt of ammunition. His HK416 would be the weapon that killed Austen if he resisted too ably.

"Time's a factor. Get gone!"

Mannorst and Kliment Mannikov leapt out of the OP and ran through the woods, trying to get ahead of Austen to outflank him. This left four men in the observation post, the other two hanging back as a reserve. The machinegunner flicked the safety off his weapon and opened fire.

The first stream of 5.56x45mm rounds threw sand into the air a scant five feet from Austen. Three tracers flicked into the ground with that burst. Unknown to the Fireforce mercenaries, the Kamov-designed helicopters were inbound, though still a good five minutes away at best.

Captain Soroka recoiled slightly in his seated position on board one of the life rafts of his ship as it gave one last mighty explosion from its stern section. They had quickly determined that the damage taken from the anti-ship missile and the subsequent explosion of their own helicopter still on the deck had been far more catastrophic for his Steregushchy class corvette then initially believed. Badly damaged and with power lost to most of the ship, they had found themselves unable to take control of the situation and put out the fire.

Those who had survived the missile and helicopter explosions had only barely managed to abandon the ship and get clear of it in time before the fire reached the ship’s bunkerage, resulting in the last terrifying explosion and obliteration of the stern quarter of the ship. Which left Rublev to watch his ship quickly began to sink as water flooded through the compartments from the destroyed stern as those of his crew on his life raft began paddling towards the shore somewhere to their East.

-----

While the Diggledom artillery barrages had effectively neutralized the air defense battery on the Northeast of Novajev along with destroying the early warning radar station, they had left the Eastern and Southeastern air defense batteries intact. Still being intact, they remained a significant threat to any aircraft within forty kilometers of the coast, as it was, each SA-17 TELAR had its very own Snow Drift radar attached, allowing it to detect aircraft within one hundred and fifty kilometers, half the range of the P-37, and designate those targets for their vehicle’s missiles, which were still watching the skies above the Diggledom fleet and ready to fire.

2152


20km east of Bitarjev - Guryev - Kuznetsov Class carrier

“Sir, you should really get some sleep.” The XO of the ship, Vladik Yudenich said. He had been up since the start of the evening watch, around six o’clock and he knew the admiral had been awake long before he had even managed to get to bed.

“Not until the end of this action, another ten minutes at most. Then you can have the ship and get us out of here.” The admiral replied, rubbing sleep from his eyes and yawning before taking a massive gulp of the coffee mug by his side.

The entrance of one of the radar technicians forestalled further conversation, both the officers looking up at the young man.

“Sir, the latest radio intercepts are back, the two remaining AA sites are still active, they were independent of the heavy radar site.”

“Get the guns firing! Now! Each gets a two minute barrage and keep irritation fire up until the end of the mission, we can’t allow any mistakes. For that matter get two of the northern ships to keep firing at the northern site.” The young man turned and ran from the room. “We will be out of here for good one way or another tonight, so ammunition economy doesn’t rate high in the list of things to worry about.” Vladik nodded as he thought through the idea. He opened his mouth but was drowned out by the sound of the fleets guns opening up again.

Looks like somebody was anticipating that order at least, the admiral thought to himself as he heard the sounds. At least something was going right.

The southern fleet guns opened up, each firing the shells as fast as they could for the first two minutes, before slowing down to two rounds a minute, enough to scare any sane person and keep them with their heads down due to the random explosions.


North Eastern Beach on Novajev Island

Austen slowly slid the aerial out of the small hole in the wall to his hide, listening raptly to his personal radio for any attempt at contact. Almost immediately he picked some up,

“…Diggledom navy. Austen, this is the Diggledom navy, the best Diggledom force! Go Diggledom Navy. Austen, this is the…” He grinned through the pain, the radio operator had evidently thrown the rulebook out of the window with his message. He carefully arranged his throat microphone before interrupting.

“The navy sucks ass. Marines are the way forwards. Over.”

At the other end of the radio the operator swung his feet off the table and back onto the floor.

“Authentication, code in troubled. Over.”
“Authentication, code out seabird. Over.”
“Location for your extraction? Over.”
“Present location. Beach, near extraction point Charlie. Over.”
“SATINT confirms your presence. Have just launched SAR birds, should be with you in four minutes. Meet you on the coast. Over.”
“Roger that. Out.”

Austen slowly pushed the earth wall until a hole appeared, he picked up the four strings of paracord to lead him to the grenades before standing up. He had just had a quick look around the area before the tracers arrived, throwing up a cloud of sand to his right hand side. Either his hunters were inexperienced or they didn’t want to kill him. Neither were particularly good choices. He jerked two of the paracord ties, the two slightly buried smoke grenades immediately spewing out copious amounts of smoke, without hesitation he dived into the smoke, heading down one of the dunes, keeping lower than the edge of the field and moving slowly towards the sea. He waited until he was safely out of the zone before triggering the two frag grenades he had concealed, both throwing sand into the air and flicking razor edged shrapnel around.

13km from Travoro coast

The two helicopters rushed forwards, looking vaguely ungainly with their somewhat lopsided appearance, both choppers had the same weapons load out, a 30mm cannon mounted along the port side of the massive fuselage, each wing holding a pod of unguided 55mm rockets and one crew member of each helicopter manning the Diggledom upgraded window weapon, a KPVT 14.5mm machine gun. The four barrelled 7.62mm machine gun had been replaced with the heavier weapon on one of the helicopters to deal with any light vehicles if they turned up.

Inside the two helicopters all the soldiers sat, all had been in battles before, mainly around their home peninsula, but battle was battle, a bullet fired from a known enemy could kill just as easily as that from a stranger.

They had already cocked their weapons, pushed the safety catches to safe and sat back, waiting in the way of soldiers going into battle everywhere, each dealing with the nerves in their own way. Some chewed fingernails, others tried to read in the low light, one stroked the belt feeding his Pecheneg machine gun and one of the SVD equipped soldiers carefully polished the rear lens of his sight.

Northeastern Beach

Watching smoke boil up from the sand and their objective disappearing into the dense cloud, Wixley pointed out a forty five degree arc centered on where Austen had gone to ground and screamed over the roar of the MINIMI for the machinegunner to enfilade the area. The machinegunner shifted slightly, muzzle tracking across the dunes as the linked 5.56x45mm ammunition disappeared into the reciever and a steady stream of spent casings and disintigrated links spat from the reverse side. He released the trigger, taking up another point of aim and firing another five second burst. The rounds going downrange would go no higher than a standing man's head and no lower than a standing man's knees, meaning a prone man would probably have his back creased by a few rounds or if he was rather high, be shot repeatedly. Wixley reached over and seized the end of the rapidly disappearing belt in a lull between the gunner's bursts, clipping a fresh belt to the one he held in his right hand before kneeling and lifting his HK rifle. He added his fire, picking spots in the smoke and double-tapping them, only across from where the machinegun was currently firing a burst, in order to keep the area of suppression as wide as possible.

None of this would do any good whatsoever, the Rhodesian man reflected, if he was low and behind a dune or a berm, where he was effectively safe unless he stood up.

Mannorst and Mannikov ran across sand, weapons held tightly in tense hands. They were still quite some distance from the hide, heading in the direction that Austen disappeared, hoping to pop up on his flank and take him under effective fire. Mannikov's head swivelled towards the source of two explosions as the fragmentation grenades detonated, a piece of hot shrapnel slicing across his cheek, another across his upper arm, and two cutting their way through his assault vest, one burying itself in a magazine pouch and the other scoring a shallow line across his chest. He bellowed and slipped to the ground from the shock. The Afrikaaner dropped to one knee, fired a long burst across the arc that the grenades had detonated on, and pulled Mannikov back to his feet.

The Russian shook off sand, adjusted his grip on his rifle, and nodded at Mannorst. Blood streamed down one side of his face, down an arm, and was soaking into his combat jacket, but none of the wounds were particularly deep. Just painful, and grimacing both men took back off into a run, nearing the edge of the smoke cloud.

Lieutenant Nazarov cursed loudly in a long string of curses, craftily blending tried and true obscenities with older more poetic curses, hoping for terrible afflictions towards the Diggledom as he hunkered down as deep as he could in a slit trench just outside the primary area of Diggledom fire aimed at the Southeastern air defense battery. As the commanding officer of the infantry providing protection for the air defense battery now under fire, there was nothing he could do but listen to the shells explode, unable to see the shrapnel tearing apart the lightweight systems as they had done to the Northeastern battery.

Originally a Kilrany born citizen, he had been one of many to volunteer to go to the FLRJ to aid the Republicans when their civil war broke out. Somewhat idealistic at the time he had quickly realized how little difference there was between the Republican and the Fascist factions and quite simply how bad the situation really was over there. Thinking himself more of a realist by the time the civil war seemed to reach a stand still, he had gladly signed up with the Novajev when the chance had come up, thinking it would be easy money, though he was quickly starting to regret his decision.

As with the Northeaster air defense battery, there was nothing that could be done for the other two. Unable to dig their vehicles in any deeper then they were without negating their ability to fire before the barrage, they now couldn’t simply attempt to drive, considering it suicidal to expose the entirety of their vehicles to the shells and shrapnel.

-----

The Novajev however would not be taking the shelling passively for much longer. As the Diggledom vessels continued to fire their deck guns, the sound carried across the water towards the small island nation to be picked up by a series of microphones. Rather then using an actively traceable radar system with a ballistic tracking computer, the Novajev had opted for a passive sound detection system much like the British Hostile Artillery LOcation system.

The microphones transmitted their information to a command post closer to the center of the island where with an extremely high degree of accuracy the range of the Diggledom vessels openly firing on the island were computed and transmitted North to the Novajev firebase a kilometer East of Bilikov and nearly four hundred meters above sea level.

It had taken several minutes for the gun crews of the large 2A36 "Giatsint-B" 152mm guns to reorient them towards the East in the darkness that surrounded the firebase since the opening salvo fired from the Diggledom. Within their shallow, circular gun pits lined with sandbags, the gun crews loaded their weapons from the ‘ready’ stack of ammunition while men inside the magazine pit prepared to sling up more of their shells to the ready stack for continuous fire.

Loaded with High Explosive Armour Piercing rounds, the Diggledom were fortunate that these guns could only target those of their ships actively firing, despite the unlikely ness of a hit doing significant damage to the relatively lightly armoured vessels, it would still not be a pleasant experience. To add to their problems, the eight 152mm guns pointed at them outranged even the mightiest of their naval guns, the AK-130 aboard the Diggledom Kirovs, by five kilometers with unassisted rounds, though this was only a minor inconvenience to be sure.

In unison all eight guns crashed out their first round, lighting up the night sky as the Novajev lashed out at their attackers, whom they had come to believe were trying to soften them up for an invasion. Quickly the gun crews begin loading the next round, with the first salvo fired the guns proceeded to fire on their own as fast as their crews could load them at an average rate of six rounds a minute. Now lacking the airborne radar, they did not know the specific type of ship they targeted beyond its location, merely starting with the closest firing Diggledom vessel.

-----

The Novajev artillery on the North was not however the only developing threat for the Diggledom, farther to the South the remains of the Novajev navy was regrouping, now only waiting for the Western ships to round the Southwest corner of Novajev to join with them. Unable to directly detect the positions of the Diggledom navy due to the island being between them, the Novajev could not aid the firebase select more ideal targets then merely the closest.

After a quick talk with Admiral Ekster, Captain Lepp, the ranking officer of the Novajev navy currently on board one of their vessels had a plan for their remaining vessels. All he had to do now before he could implement it was wait another seven minutes for the remaining ships.

2153


20km east of Bitarjev - Guryev - Kuznetsov Class carrier

“Sir, northern group reports incoming artillery fire. Apparently they have some form of artillery detection system running that doesn’t need an active radar.” One of the radio operators was hurriedly talking into the microphone he was wearing, connected through the carriers internal phone system to the desktop unit in the admirals office.

“Shit happens all at once.” The admiral muttered more to himself than the other occupants of the office, his Xo and a pair of fish in a long tank mounted on one of the walls. His eyes flicked across the map placed along one wall and back to the LCD screen mounted on one of the walls. The satellite analysts had just linked him into the view of the regrouping Novajev navy gathering to the south of the island. He briefly closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Tell the entire of the southern groups to pick any surviving troops out of the water, we are going to be leaving soon. The southern submarine is going to be a bitch, how long would a rescue take launching all of our available helicopters? Actually, stuff that. Launch them, get them back here as soon as possible!” The Xo nodded and began speaking quietly into his own phone, giving the launch orders to the helicopters from the fleet.

“Take the rest of the fleet up to meet the northern component. Tell the southern submarine to prepare to fire four more anti-ship missiles then scarper. Get the two firing ships in the northern component to shift fire, try to paste the firebase. This has got to be ended quickly. Damn quick.”

The fleet immediately leapt into action, five rescue helix helicopters and one support helix launching, all immediately assuming a nose down position and pushing their engines into a high speed dash to try to reach the submarine crew that were floating in five bright yellow lifeboats.

The fleet all turned north and slowly started to move north, their guns falling mainly silent apart from a last few shells, mining the area around the two AA sites with the same shells as those that had clogged the main eastern base’s exits.

14km East of Travoro - Bobruisk - Kirov Class Cruiser

The first set of return shells had been the most worrying, two shells hitting within a hundred metres of the ship, throwing up great plumes of water. Immediately they had engaged their radar, trying to get a rough idea of where the shells were coming from, the faint returns being enough to confirm the idea that the firebase had opened up on them. The new orders came through even as the captain ordered one of the ships guns to keep firing at the AA site and the other to switch fire to the firebase located in the hills. They followed the new orders though, the Kirov’s guns moving immediately the remaining Sovremenny firing a set of mine laying shells at the AA sites before beginning to move it’s guns to face the firebase. The Kirov fired first, each 86kg round launching a 33kg projectile into the northern mountains of Novajev. Even as they fired they began to move, to try and throw off the aim of the enemy gunners who were at a massive disadvantage to the mobile ships.

Suddenly a loud clang followed by an explosion sounded across the water, one of the 152mm had clipped the side of one of the Neustrashimy ships before exploding just over the sea, peppering the side of the ship with red hot shrapnel.

9km from Travoro coast

“Two minutes to touch down. Equipment check.” The co-pilot leaned back to shout in the platoon sergeants ear. The sergeant nodded and leaned forwards, rolling his eyes. As if they hadn’t already done it a hundred times, but still, better safe than sorry. He clapped his hands over his head, attracting everyone’s attention due to the movement rather than the unheard sound. When all the passengers were looking at him he motioned to his rifle and tugged meaningfully at his webbing. The junior sergeant opposite him, an old friend, rolled his eyes sarcastically at him before dutifully tugging at his webbing straps, checking his body armour was sited correctly and for the fourth time checking that there was a round in the chamber and that the weapon was set to safe.

North Eastern Beach on Novajev Island

Austen ducked as another burst of machine gun fire cut through the smoke less than a metre over his head. He was running down the centre of a dune, his head less than a foot from the top of the dune so he was still trying to keep as low as possible. He was heading diagonally towards the sea, hoping the darkness would cover his escape.

“Romeo Oscar, Alpha. Landing zone is hot.” he didn’t have to vocalize for the throat microphone to pick up the message and transmit it to his colleagues flying towards him.

Captain Edison looked over the shoulder of one of his subordinates who was seated in front of a computer terminal set up inside a dug out bunker, the deep crashing of the eight large 152mm guns could both be easily heard, and felt. The subordinate in question was receiving the relayed ranging information from the passive detection command station and attempting to compare it fast enough so as to predict the course of the Diggledom naval vessels and pass that information along to the gunners who would in turn update their firing angle in hopes of leading their shells into the hostile ships. This was proving difficult however despite the modernization of the guns in question and the fact they were focusing in on one enemy ship only until they lost contact and were forced to target a new one.

Like just about all of the mercenary forces that where no referred to as the Novajev Army, Edison had fought with the Republican forces during their civil war, having traveled there from the Kingdom of Spazjenia near the outbreak. Also like most of the mercenaries now fighting for the Novajev, he had grown disillusioned with the Republicans and gladly accepted the position he now held as the artillery commander.

A new noise caught his attention from outside the bunker that didn’t match with the sounds of the large guns firing, but he quickly realized what it was. Turning around he jogged over towards the entrance of the bunker and stuck his head out, which because of the relatively deep bunker was just above ground level to see a large number of explosions shattering the trees of a forest on a slight rise a few hundred meters to their East, while he had anticipated counter-counter battery fire, but not this soon.

As the shells began to walk in noticeably towards the firebase, which was spread out over five hundred square meters, Edison turned around quickly and moved back to his subordinate.

“Tell the gunners to stop firing and get into cover.”

As the soldier carried out his orders and used a boom microphone over his mouth to relay the order, Edison cursed under his breath, he had hoped to have more time to shell the enemy ships before they could respond.

Outside the larger guns fired off two more volleys each before the gun crews, including the men in the magazine whole quickly left their positions and made their way through a series of interlocking slit trenches to several bunker positions. Nearby and just barely audible over the sounds of the shells landing, two engines started up and a pair of Tunguskas came rolling up out of a pair of smaller covered gun pits that had been dug for the 120mm mortars which had been moved earlier. Unlike the guns who would need a direct hit to destroy, the SPAA systems did not have that fortune and the commanding officer for them chose to make a break South away from the firebase and unto the road, heading towards the village of Bilikov.

Back inside the bunker, Edison closed a door over the entrance and made himself as comfortable as he could. Without anything else he could do, they would have to ride out the shelling until it stopped and when it did he hoped all his men would still be alive. He was concerned little for the artillery guns as if they took any damage they could be easily repaired or simply replace, unlike his gun crews.

North Eastern Beach, Novajev Island

Despite his wounds, Mannikov slid to a halt and dropped to one knee, letting go of his assault rifle to pull his night optical device from its pouch on his assault vest. Holding the equipment like binoculars, he scanned the area he suspected Austen to be in, panting heavily. Mannorst, also catching his breath, was scanning the surrounding area and raised the light machinegun team on his personal role radio.

Three hundred meters away, ensconced in the treeline and their former observation post turned fighting hole, Wixley tapped the machinegunner's shoulder. He immediately ceased fire and reached around to clip another belt of ammunition to the one already loaded into his weapon. This done, he swapped out the barrel, dropping the hot one behind him to cool off. All maintainence tasks completed, he reshouldered the weapon and readied to fire when commanded once more.

Mannikov pointed at Austen, still headed down a dune and towards the sea. The two Fireforce men on the beach took off running again as soon as Mannikov closed the flap on the pouch he'd taken his NOD from. Mannorst screamed at the man in English to stop, hands in the air, coarse voice travelling across waterfront sands in the evening light.

13km East of Travoro - Bobruisk - Kirov Class Cruiser

The enemy fire had been worrying for the crews of the ships, knowing that there was nothing for them to do but hope they weren't hit. All through the battlegroup people sighed as the incoming rounds died away, they had got off lightly, one of the ships had been hit when the round had exploded at sea level, and another had almost been hit when a shell landed a mere 20 metres from their side, covering the ship in water, but luckily causing no real damage. As the enemy fire dropped away the rate of fire from the Diggledom ships slowed too, dropping to irritation rates, a couple of rounds every minute, a mixture of high explosive and smoke rounds, just to add to the chaos.

On the bridge the tension was becoming noticeable, all the Radar operators hunched over their consoles, hunting for any sign of enemy radar's activating, fingers hovering over weapon system controls, ready to pounce on any enemy that activated their radar. The radio operators were all in constant contact with the various parts of the Diggledom forces, the rescue flight heading towards Novajev, the ships to the south of the rescue force and even a direct link to a control room in Diggledom. They all waited, ready to leap into action if need be.

4km from Travoro coast

The pilot of the lead helix dropped the helicopter to the deck, flying less than 10 metres from the top of the waves, years of experience and a well maintained helicopter blending together to make the ride smooth despite the high speed and low altitude.

The pilot turned to the copilot before holding one finger in the air, 1 minute to landing. The copilot nodded back and reached backwards, tapping the rear gunner on the shoulder and passing on the message before turning to the weapons panel in front of him and beginning to activate it.

North Eastern Beach on Novajev Island

Even as the voice reached him Austen had begun to try to run over the top of dune he was in during the lull in the machine gun firing, the voice reaching him just as he crested the rise. He jumped over the dune and rolled down the other side, but as he tried to rise he felt a shooting pain in his ankle, he realised he had pulled it in his mad roll down the hill. He grimaced before starting to limp along the dune, slowly making his way towards the sea.

It had taken a minute for the mercenary forces at the firebase to notice that the Diggledom had dropped their rate of fire as the previous shells were still in the air. When it did however become apparent that the intensity of the barrage had lessened, it came as no relief to them, now quite paranoid that they might suddenly come under ground attack from another special forces team, as they were all well aware of the attack on the Northeast air defense battery.

Captain Edison was relatively calm despite being on the receiving end of an artillery barrage for a change, however it was nothing new to him having experienced and survived numerous similar artillery barrages in the FLRJ. He was however still alert and from his seated position behind a table watched his bunker’s entrance as he disassembled and re-assembled his sidearm to keep himself occupied while an M4 sat loaded and ready to fire on the table to his right. Like the rest of his men he kept the possibility of a ground attack in the back of his mind, especially since the general consensus was that the Diggledom forces were preparing to land military forces.

In the corner of the bunker, the same subordinate who had been relaying range data to the guns, kept a vigilant ear to the radio system, having told him a mere moment earlier that the two Tunguskas that had fled the firebase just as the barrage was incoming has arrived safely in Bilikov, where it had rendezvoused with a motorized infantry platoon and their BTR-80s.

Their plan was to use the village as cover, hoping the Diggledom would not shell a village full of civilians to get a handful of military personnel. Edison didn’t know what kind of people the Diggledom were, but for the sake of the men taking shelter in the village, he hoped they weren’t like the FLRJ in their indifference to such collateral damage.

To reinforce the growing concern and paranoia among his men that their might be a ground attack, one of his men has stuck his head out of their own bunker to see what was going on when the shelling died down a little, then used the radio a moment later to inform them that smoke shells were now going off along with the high explosive shells. Edison wasn’t sure whether he was just brave, stupid, or a combination of both.

-----

Six kilometers to the East of the firebase, Lieutenant Yegor Grishin poked his own head up out of his foxhole and took a look around the remains of the Northeastern airfield through a pair of night vision goggled attached to his helmet, mentally noting all the damage done to the area now that the shelling seemed to stop. He was however less concerned with the aircraft and buildings in general as he was for two sheds which contained his units Tunguska platoon.

Like the majority of the other mercenaries, he had originally been a volunteer who had joined the Republican forces in hopes of defeating the Fascist faction, and like most he had quickly become disillusioned after his arrival and the revelation that there was very little difference between the rival factions. Still technically a Kilrany citizen, he had what was deemed invaluable experience in commanding small, mobile air defense units from his time in the Kilrany Imperial Armed Forces, and he was quickly put in charge of his own platoon, which had carried over in his sign up to the Novajev.

Not entirely sure that the artillery was done even after a minute of silence, he jogged over towards another foxhole twenty meters away from his own after climbing out of it before he made for the two sheds which contained his vehicles. Using a command radio he addressed the men under his immediate command, “I want status check now, go.”

He reached the first shed as the two of his vehicle crews, including men from his own reported in that they were still alive and well, though he got nothing from the other two crews. The shed itself seemed relatively intact but it was perforated with numerous shrapnel holes. Coming around behind it towards the second shed he was quickly disheartened to see that it was essentially no longer there. Nearly ten meters to the North of the first one, it was nothing more then a pile of rumbled made up of wooden boards and the remains of two of his Tunguskas, one of which had in turn taken a direct hit on the roof.

Grishin sprinted over towards the ruined shed and moved to it’s Northern side to get a look at the two foxholes that belonged to his men who hadn’t responded some farther distance to the North, hoping they had either damaged their radios or just didn’t hear the message. He came to a quick stop however when they came into view, both had been unlucky enough to take a direct hit from a shell, killing everyone inside and scattering their remains over the ground inside and around their foxholes.

He cursed under his breath before turning around and moving back towards the first shed while at the same time calling out over his radio once more, “Regroup at the first shed, we may be leaving quickly.”

Arriving first, he pulled open the shed’s doors and moved inside to take stock of the condition of the two Tunguskas in the darkness; a moment later the five of his men came jogging in the open door behind him. He quickly gave them an order to examine the vehicles as he climbed aboard one of them himself to check the external systems for damage.

He had to move slowly in the darkness as he examined the lowered search radar through his night vision goggled at the rear of the vehicles turret, happily noting that it appeared to have no shrapnel damage. Moving to the front to check the circular fire control radar, he cursed as he saw a irregular hole in it where a piece of shrapnel had penetrated and no doubt rendered the relatively delicate acquisition radar useless.

Looking to the other vehicle to his left, he was about to ask one of his men who was looking over that vehicle’s fire control radar when he got a clean look at it himself. Almost sensing the question the soldier looked up at him and just shook his head, which was somewhat redundant as Grishin could see that the other vehicles small fire control radar was simply shredded by the high velocity shrapnel.

Frustrated that his vehicles had been damaged and their missiles useless at least until their fire control radars were repaired or replaced, thus rendered little more then gun platform, though still highly lethal gun platforms, he ordered his men into the vehicles. Moments later they started up and drove forward out of the sheds into the darkness of the airfield.

Taking a moment to access their exact position, he ordered his driver to take the vehicle off the airfield grounds through the South road and move towards Travoro, quickly ordering the second vehicle to follow. He was concerned with a renewed bombardment and hoped that by taking his two vehicles into the small town he would be relatively safe from further bombardment.

North-Eastern Beach

"For fuck's sake, Mannorst, there he goes again." Mannikov, loaded down under the weight of full gear, gasped for breath and prepared to take off after the Diggledom man again. Mannorst held him back with his free hand wrapped into a webbing strap, his HK416's pistol grip in his right hand.

"Listen! Helicopter! Maybe more than one, but they can't be ours, let's go, brueder, go!"

Yanking the Russian around in the sand and shoving him towards the treeline again, the Afrikaaner radioed Wixley with his PRR. "Wixley, Mannorst here. I hear helicopters, we're going to have to break contact with this sonbitch!"
"I hear you, Mannorst. Get back here, we'll get the fuck out."

Kneeling in soft sand, the Afrikaaner fired towards and around the spot Austen had disappeared, hot casings ejecting from his rifle as fast as he was pulling the trigger. He ejected the empty magazine, dropping it into the dump pouch strapped to his left leg and snatched up a full mag from his equipment harness, slapping it home into the rifle's magazine well and resuming fire. Three double-taps later and he was running up past Mannikov, who lay prone in the sand providing covering fire for his partner's move past him. Wixley watched the horizon, the machinegunner on post if the helicopter showed up before they were off the beach. At a full sprint with their fire-and-move routine, it would take forty seconds before the two mercenaries could tumble into the safety of the former observation post and catch their breath.

They kept up this fire and movement routine, not realizing that Austen was down with another injury and unlikely to return fire for the very substantial risk of being shot through repeatedly with his rescue this close at hand. Muscles screaming from the exertion, Mannorst dropped to a halt fifty meters behind Mannikov and began firing. Mannikov started running, changing magazines on the move, tossing his empties down the front of his tucked in shirt.

North Eastern Beach on Novajev Island

Austen heard the sound of the helicopters as he limped down the centre of the dune, immediately recognising them as the distinctive noise of the Helix’s double rotor arrangement. He grinned, rescue was on it’s way. Even as he smiled he heard the sound of repeated gun-shots behind him, rounds hitting the dune over which he had just rolled, some buried themselves in the sand but others flicked through the top of the dune, spraying clouds of fine sand off the floor. He yanked his pistol out of his holster and flicked the safety catch off safe. There was no way he was going without a fight, not when he had got this far. He trained the pistol on the top of the dune, waiting for any target to present itself.

Then he noticed a pattern, the sound of the shots was getting quieter, each set seeming to be from further off. He sighed with relief, they had probably pulled back when they heard the helicopter. He turned his head towards the sea, hoping to catch a glimpse of his rescuers. It wasn’t long in coming.

1km from Travoro coast

The helicopter gunner leaned his entire upper body out of the gunners window, his heavy body armour and flight suit keeping him warm despite the spray from the ocean and the high speed airflow. He rested his knee against on the boxes of 7.62 ammo, the six boxes providing a stable rest point for the gunner, allowing him to comfortably lean out of the window. The rear door had already been opened, the howling of the wind filling the cabin and sucking all the warm air out. The rifle men were all sitting on the edge’s of their seats, ready to jump out and secure the immediate area. They felt the aircraft start to slow before flaring as it suddenly dropped to land with a thump on the soft sand. The troops immediately exited, weapons raised, night vision goggles dangling in front of their eyes, their webbing secured around their waists. The 16 men from the first helicopter spread out, the helicopter above them providing them with security while they searched.

The first person to spot Austen was private Androv, as soon as he saw the injured special forces operative he called it in.

“Androv to all call signs, contact established. Regroup on my position.”

The other fifteen men grouped around him, ten of them taking up positions on over watch, their heads just above the tops of the dunes, weapons tracking from left to right, following their eyes. The remaining five gathered around him and Austen, throwing their weapons over their shoulders to be caught on their slings before unpacking a fabric stretcher and quickly pushing Austen onto the stretcher and carrying him towards the helicopter.

As the stretcher reached the helicopter, still surrounded by the dismounted troops it was pulled inside, the helicopter gunner pulling the stretcher across the floor, allowing the rest of the troops to enter the helicopter.

As soon as they mounted up the helicopter leapt into the air, spinning until it faced the sea and adopted a nose down profile, speeding away across the ocean.

Just over a kilometer to the Southwest of the beach in Travoro, the two Novajev motorized infantry sections based in the town were on full alert ever since the opening salvo from the Diggledom navy. Comprised of two infantry sections of twelve men each backed up by four BTR-80s, they used Travoro now as both protection from bombardment and observation point that gave them a clear line of sight along the Eastern coast from North to South.

Spread out over the town, they had even commandeered the tower of a church to form an observation point with a better view over the surrounding area; while it was a somewhat obvious position; they felt the gain outweighed the risk for the time being. They had been slightly concerned when they heard the gunfire to their North, but were informed by their command that a Fireforce team was in that area hunting a survivor.

With the knowledge however that airfield to their was under indirect fire, they knew the sounds of the helicopters to their North were not friendly, and while the BTR crews could not hear them, the infantry outside directed their attention towards North. On the North of Travoro, the gunner of a BTR-80 looked through his sight at the second of the two helicopters, the one providing cover for the first which had landed and was now outside his field of view.

Selecting the feed for the right hopper of his vehicle’s KPV which contained high-explosive incendiary rounds with every fifth round an armour-piercing incendiary tracer. He squeezed off a three second long burst, unleashing nearly twenty-eight of the heavy 14.5mm rounds as he tried to lead his rounds into his target. Using the tracer rounds which lit up to over two kilometers he attempted to adjust his fire as he continued to unleash three second long bursts. While not a dedicated anti aircraft gun platform like the Tunguskas on their way, it was no less deadly towards aircraft should they be hit, and more importantly was there now and a current threat for the Diggledom helicopters, unlike the Tunguskas, whose fire control radars were damaged, their missiles rendered useless and currently to far away and unaware of the presence of the Kamovs to do anything.

Not merely content to let one of the BTR-80s to engage the enemy helicopters, one of the mercenary soldiers pulled free a SA-18 launcher from another BTR-80 on the East side of town that didn’t have a line of sight due to village buildings. Jogging to the edge of the cliff face on the East of town with one of his section mates coming along with him to watch his back, keeping to his left. Dropping down on one knee he brought the launcher up to his shoulder and looked through the sight, leaving it inactive for the moment.

Looking North he could see the tracer fire arcing out towards the first helicopter, unable to see the second one which had landed just yet, he was about to target it when he got a look at the second. Flying low and fast away from the coast he had a perfect sight on the helicopter’s exhaust for his weapon’s infrared targeting system, with his target so low to the water, it would be limited in maneuvering and the ability for any flares to decoy the missile as they would land in the water rather quickly.

He followed the target for several seconds, making sure it was clear of the coast and any protection offered by the land before he finally activated the Grouse’s targeting system. He knew at that moment, somewhere on the Kamov a receiver was now mostly likely blaring a warning to the pilot that he was being targeted, but it didn’t matter, giving his weapon a good look at the target, he gave a quick yell.

“Back clear?”

To his left, his section mate took a moment to make sure no one was behind him and replied, “Clear!”

He pulled the trigger and the missile’s rocket motor engaged, spewing flame out the rear of the launch tube as it pushed itself clear and on its way towards the escaping helicopter.

2155

North-eastern Beach on Novajev Island

Depending on how you looked at it the Helix flying cover was either incredibly lucky or incredibly unlucky. Whereas the first burst passed harmlessly to the front of the helicopter, slashing through the air nearly 50 metres in front of the helicopter, the pilot immediately dropped the nose of the helicopter, pushing the helicopter down towards the beach, the helicopter narrowly ducked under the next burst. The lowest round passing less than 30 cm from the rotor blades. As the pilot pulled the collective back, the helicopter gained height, almost making the next three second burst fly harmlessly underneath, but not quite. The first four rounds punched a line through the fuselage, three of them over penetrating the thin metal skin and exploding when they had already passed through the helicopter and emerged on the other side. The final round exploded as it passed into the fuselage, blowing a hole in the thin metal and peppering the two soldiers either side of the hole with shrapnel. The passenger compartment was immediately filled with the hot coppery smell of blood. Even as the helicopter continued its evasive manoeuvres the men on either side of the pair of injured soldiers began first aid, one holding a first field dressing over a heavily bleeding wound on his friends abdomen and the other trying to hold his patient down to strap it over the slash across his forehead that was dripping blood into his eyes.

The helicopter with Austen aboard was low enough to not be in any danger from the heavier rounds flying overhead, before they even took off they prepped their weapons and countermeasures, checking they were all in working condition before raising the helicopter off the ground. The cover helicopter had moved slightly further inland, drawing the BTR’s fire away from the rescuing helicopter. Seemingly as soon as they reached the sea an alarm started to sound, missile targeting system detected. The co-pilot looked down at the threat detector, noticing the threat was from behind them.

“6 O’clock. Missile system, spin her.” The entire helicopter had trained for this manoeuvre before, they had served their time among the Lovet islands and along the Uralvanya border, both hot spots for guerrilla activity. The helicopter began to rise, getting enough space to use it’s flares, while spinning to bring it’s nose towards the threat. The helicopter was spinning in the air, the gunner leaning out of the window enough to fire his mounted machine gun as he span past the coast. Even as he span past he saw the flash of the missile igniting, streaking towards the helicopter.

“Brace, brace, brace.” he screamed, grabbing hold of the two handles mounted above his window.

The co-pilot watched as the cliff face appeared in his view, a thin smoky trail connecting the incoming missile with a point on top of the cliff. He triggered the counter measures even as he hit the trigger for the 30mm cannon mounted along the bottom of the helicopter. The 30mm rounds exploded as they hit the cliff side, throwing clumps of rock into the sea as they walked towards the origin of the missile. He never saw whether any of the rounds hit, the pilot dived as the missile approached, leaving a trail of flares and chaff floating down through the air.

The missile sped towards the helicopter before finally flicking towards one of the flares, exploding less than a metre from the tail of the helicopter. Part of the helicopter tail cracked off, swinging from a small section of fibreglass and wiring.

“Shit! Get us out of here.” The pilot spun the helicopter again, spinning back towards the ocean and speeding away.

The Northern Airfield

"Son of a bitch!"

A German member of "Fireforce" looked up from where he was seated on the floor of their slit trench at the Canadian mercenary who'd spoken. He got up slowly, stretching out the kinks in his back after being pressed tightly into the trench with too many other airfield personnel and mercenaries. He clapped a Brabander on the shoulder with a meaty palm, saying; "I think that the next time we get that close, dinner and a movie first, ja?"

The Brabander, as well as everyone else in the trench, laughed. There'd been twenty-three personnel jammed into a slit trench originally dug for twelve for the duration of the bombardment plus thirty minutes just incase the enemy had decided to catch any troops leaving cover out in the open with a sudden resumption of fire after the fire had initially lifted off the airfield. The Canadian at the parapet levered himself out and unslung the long-barreled HK416 fitted with a C-79A2 ELCAN he carried as a "Section Marksman." He walked towards a crimson splash on the black, ruptured tarmac.

Breathlessly, he repeated himself. "Son of a bitch." He poked about the remains of what had been a human before it had been turned inside-out and shredded by blast and high velocity shrapnel. He lifted one corner of the remains of a sticky, wet garment with two calloused fingers. He dropped it, keying his personal role radio and calling in to the Fireforce commander.

"The civilians got hit, boss. I'm standing out on Runway Three next to what used to be a woman. I think. We're going to need a squee-gee, a plastic bag, and a pressure washer."

Calls circulated around the Fireforce men on their PRRs. The other mercenaries were assigned to maintain airfield security, take stock of the damage done, ensure any and all casualties were treated as best as possible and evacuated to fixed medical facilities nearby by the best possible transport and then to begin any possible repairs of the damage done.
Exempt from these duties, the Fireforce men looked to themselves and their charges. They found that the civilians, not left in an enclosed encampment with protection of their own, instead being trusted to wait in a barracks designated for their use until a flight out could be arranged, had suffered a number of casualties.

A quick headcount showed only three mercenaries had died with a further six wounded by shrapnel. The three men who had died were found bruised and battered in the bottom of their fighting hole with blood pouring from ruptured eardrums and open mouths. The edge of the crater nearest to the fighting hole was a scant meter from the hole itself; blast overpressure had torn these men's lungs to shreds in an instant. A combat veteran of the FLRJ Campaigns knelt in the trench, making the sign of the cross over two of the men and closing their eyes, closing the eyes of the third without any religious ceremony at all, having found "No Preference" stamped into the sheet metal of his dogtags instead of his compatriot's "Roman Catholic."

The civilians had faired far worse. Out of three dozen assorted nationalities gathered at the airfield, eighteen were dead, though strangely only two were wounded at all, and lightly at that. The nations of Germania, Me'i, Strolenko, Spazjenia, and Russkya would be very annoyed at the Diggledom fleet for having caused the deaths of their civilians.

A medic, originally trained in the Russkyan Army and with citizenship in Russkya, Ukraine, and Canada, knelt next to one of his patients before calling for a man specialized in explosive ordnance removal on his PRR headset.

"You're a very lucky fellow, McLellan! This bit of steel that buried itself in your arm was deflected by this grenade on your webbing! Might've gone in your chest instead."

Clucking his tongue like an annoyed mother, he dusted the wound with a powdered counterinfection agent, stuffed it with highly absorbent gauze, and applied a field dressing, tying it tightly over the five inch gash through the man's upper arm. Not far from the back of the medic's hand was the lower half of a grenade, sliced apart by shrapnel and held together solely by the detonating column in its centre. The medic then left his charge in the foxhole he'd been occupying since just shortly after he'd been hit, and sat beyond the rim of it, talking to McLellan who found himself too preoccupied with worrying about the damaged grenade strapped to his chest to pay attention to the medic's stories of whores and STD inspections gone by.

The mercenary who had fired the Grouse, a man by the name of Loffe, had watched the progress of the Diggledom Kamov in relation to the missile he had fired through his night vision goggles, having lowered the launcher upon firing. He had been certain that he would score a hit, but the pilot of the enemy helicopter was a good one and took appropriate action to avoid the missile, though much to the annoyance of Loffe.

That annoyance however instantly turned to concern upon seeing the helicopter rotate itself towards his firing position, fully aware that the Kamovs had the ability to be armed with rockets and gun pods. As he dropped the empty launcher and dived down towards the ground away from the Diggledom Kamov, he cursed and sounded a warning to his comrade

“Oh shit! Hit the deck!”

His colleague followed suit as the 30mm cannon rounds walked their way along the cliff side towards them. However with a drop nearly straight down of close to one hundred meters and a slight decline in grade towards the village, both men were provided a minute amount of cover that would save their lives, two men closer to the village would not be so lucky however.

Moving to take cover, one had the ultimate misfortunate to take a round dead center to his upper body, obliterating it and sending his remains flying in multiple directions. The second mercenary took shrapnel to his leg when several rounds impacted a pair of houses behind Loffe and within the line of fire. Badly injured he cursed several times before quickly calling for a medic.

Mere moments later two more of the four BTR-80s in Travoro came rumbling out of cover onto the East side of town, their crews hoping to blast the enemy aircraft out of the sky. However the Diggledom helicopters were rapidly fleeing the area and their initial bursts of fire from their heavy machine guns fell short due to the range, prompting them to cease-fire and back their vehicles into concealment once more.

-----

Nearly fourteen kilometers South of Voska, the Novajev navy was close to being fully regrouped, Captain Lepp now waiting only for the last two ships that were bearing down on them at high speed to carry out his plan. As Lepp looked over the shoulder of his radar operator, he lamented on the course of action he would undertake in another three minutes, pondering to himself in his mind whether it was truly a good idea.

As the remaining Novajev vessels were now entirely paranoid about further attacks by Diggledom submarines, they were blasting away in the water with active sonar, intent not to allow another one to get anywhere near their ships again. Dangerously enough for the surviving Diggledom submariners however who were not doubt still awaiting recovery, their position in the water was now under the air defense umbrella of the Novajev Pauk class ships and their Sa-15 missiles.

Farther North of the Novajev vessels, a single Ka-27 flew low closer to land, the flight crew keeping the aircraft under the line of sight of the Diggledom naval radars thanks to the island itself blocking either fleets’ ships from seeing each other. While it wasn’t a dedicated AEW with a high-powered radar system, it still contained, if somewhat lower in power, and somewhat limited in range, surface search radar, which it was about to put to good use.

Coming to a hover three kilometers South of Ritkova, the pilot brought his aircraft to a hover and gained altitude until he reached one hundred and fifty meters above sea level where he gave his radar a clean look at the Diggledom naval vessels and proceeded to relay that data back to friendly forces. Unfortunately for Captain Lepp, the helicopter’s radar was an older model and not capable of designating targets, other wise he would have been able to use the aircraft to launch his remaining anti-ship missiles over the island.

As it was the Ka-27 merely monitored the positions of the Diggledom navy, should enemy air defense missiles target them, they would merely drop below their line of sight temporarily before popping up again. This was just as much to get a look at the location of the enemy vessels, as it was to be a nuisance for them and to possibly instill in them the fear that the remaining Novajev vessels might now be able to engage them over the island with their missiles.

-----

Sergei took a moment to take in the scene around him as he entered the ISM barrack’s holding room with held the man known only as Vasil Barkov. There wasn’t anything particularly striking about the man in the cell, he sat quietly with his head resting in his hands while the ISM officers seemed to pay him no mind. To his right two of the officers stood chatting with each other about the days events while the third appeared to be intently fascinated with a briefcase, Sergei assumed to belong to Barkov.

“Good evening gentlemen.”

All four of them looked up at the new arrival, only Barkov showing puzzlement at his arrival as the ISM knew why he was here and gave him a simple nod in acknowledgement of his presence before one of them walked over to the holding cell and unlocked it.

Barkov continued to look puzzled as Sergei walked in through the open cell door, which was closed behind him and came to a stand in front of Barkov. The ISM officer who had let him in walked back to his colleague, the fairly large room giving them limited privacy, but enough for his task at hand.

“Mister Barkov is it? My name is Sergei Tretiak; I’m your assigned public defender.”

Sergei offered his hand but Barkov didn’t take it. A sigh escaped the lawyer’s mouth a moment later and he took a seat next to the prisoner. In a low tone, he addressed the man so the ISM could not hear him.

“You asked for a lawyer sir. I’ve already been made aware of the charges as they stand right now, traveling with false papers, do you have anything to say in regards to this?”

Barkov was silent for several moments before he looked at Sergei and replied, to which the lawyer noted his altering of the topic, “How many cases have you tried?”

“Seven murder cases, three successful, two break and enters, one successful, and one case of treason, I lost that one.”

This time it was Barkov’s turn to sigh.

“Listen to me sir, you were found attempting to enter this country with false identification, you better be able to explain that or there’s nothing I can do for you.”

“I have done nothing wrong, if there is a problem with my passport, it’s because that’s the way it was given to me by my government.”

“So you still claim to be a Russkyan citizen?”

“Yes.”

“What’s this now?” The words spoken by the ISM officer examining the briefcase caught the attention of everyone else in the room, who turned to look at the man as he finally succeeded in causing a hidden catch to release and open a secret compartment in Barkov’s briefcase. Though it was he couldn’t make out the words, from his position Sergei could readily recognize several passports from several different nations inside the compartment.

Sergei sighed and looked back at Barkov, “Are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell me right now?”

Barkov merely lowered his head again in silence.

2156

20km east of Bitarjev - Guryev - Kuznetsov Class carrier

“Sir, the Bobruisk just called in. The helicopters are pulling back, one received a couple of bursts from a HMG, casualties are expected. Medical teams are standing by on the deck. The news from the south is worse though. The SATINT indicates that the enemy ships are within AA missile coverage of the wreckage. What do you want us to do?”

The admiral blinked the sleep out of his eyes, his body was beginning to slow down. The amount of sleep he had had recently not being nearly enough. They had pulled full shifts to get to Novajev so quickly and now they had been working for far too long. Maybe this was what prompted his next suggestion, it certainly didn’t fit with his more usual methods.

“Send a signal to the enemy fleet. Say that we both have injured in the water, if they want we can pick up their guys to the north and south and drop them off on the ground if they let us pick up our submariners. Route any extra communications through to me here.”

The young radio operator hid his surprise well, the admiral had a well deserved reputation for brutal suppression of any enemy of Diggledom for little or no provocation. Somehow though this seemed different. Maybe it was because it was somewhere other than the island system Diggledom came from or maybe it was just lack of sleep but the admiral seemed to mean what he said.

It would take nearly a full minute before any Novajev ear heard the open Diggledom message, but it would not be those upon the vessels of the Novajev Navy. Now at full wartime status, they were only listening to their own encrypted messages as none of their ships had space for proper SINGINT capabilities. Attempting to listen into enemy broadcasts was not something their crews were capable of doing and none expected enemy forces to transmit openly.

Farther to the West in the underground bunker, the content of the Diggledom message was passed on to Admiral Ekster, the message itself having been picked up by a listening post, that unlike the Novajev vessels, had rudimentary SIGINT capabilities and was in fact listening to various communications channels in an attempt to gain any potentially useful information, as unlikely as that would be from the extremely heavy encryption typical in most modern military communications.

For several moments the Novajev Admiral intently looked over the content of the message passed on to him, a straightforward, bald-faced appeal of mutual benefit for both the Diggledom and Novajev sailors. It might have even worked to if it hadn’t been for the simple fact that less then fifteen minutes ago the Diggledom had, for all intents and purposes, declared war on the Novajev Republic and killed an as of yet undetermined number of their men. For as much as the Diggledom’s intent may have been to simply get their people out and withdraw, their intentions as perceived by the Novajev was one of invasion, a belief only enhanced by the presence of the two Ivan Rogov class amphibious landing ships that were a part of the Diggledom forces still firing on Novajev.

As it was, anger over the lost manpower was still present in Ekster’s mind and the message itself perceived to be a ploy to let Diggledom forces move in closer unopposed to both further attack the Novajev naval assets and land their own personnel on shore. The Admiral crushed the paper in his hand and tossed it into a trashcan to his right, a momentary twitch played across his left cheek as he suppressed his anger at the perceived attempt at trickery.

There would be no reply to the Diggledom message from the Novajev and the Novajev naval vessels posing a threat to the Diggledom aircraft and vessels on the South would not receive a notice of the offer themselves. Captain Lepp was however for the most part ignoring the Diggledom survivors, more so out of a concern for maintaining the security of his significantly limited force then out of any hatred for the stranded sailors.

-----

Farther to the South, Ekster was not the only Admiral to hear the contents of the Diggledom message; Renatus was also informed by one of her communications officers in the CIC. The larger vessels of the Kilrany navy, in particular the Poseiden class had dedicated SIGINT and ELINT abilities that were only amplified by the close proximity to Kilrany herself and the heavier AWACs aircraft based therein.

Renatus frowned slightly as she stood over the central display, quietly contemplating what she had been told and concerned that it would not be so easy. Her attention quickly shifted to one of the 5th Division intelligence officers however when he spoke up in a matter of fact tone. She wasn’t sure which one of the 5th Division operatives on her ship he was as she had given up trying to keep track of who was who in their rather identical uniforms, not that she knew their names to begin with.

“Foolish request. Do the Diggledom seriously believe the Novajev would trust this ‘offer’? Any of those helicopters could easily be armed and laden down with combat troops in an attempt to get feet on Novajev unopposed. Not to mention that the ones going South could be armed with a number of anti-ship missiles that would use such a ploy to get in close, use the island as cover and launch at the remaining Novajev vessels.”

Renatus gave a slight and quiet sigh, she dismissed his somewhat harsh words towards the Diggledom as ordinary 5th Division paranoia. Though to be fair, his words had merit and the Kilrany would never have accepted an offer such as this one given the same situation with a foe they didn’t know.

A thought occurred to her however in regards to the situation, being in a position to have more information on the Diggledom and their plans then the Novajev, she believed that they were not in fact trying to land forces and would fall back if they got their personnel, or at the very least, knew they would get their personnel back unharmed. Continuing her thought process, she used a panel to call up a secondary display screen on the primary display that listed what fleet aircraft were in the sky currently and from what vessel in her taskforce.

Anticipating the questions that would come from her staff and the 5th Division operative, she headed them off by speaking up first, “I believe the Diggledom are only trying to get their personnel back. Now they can’t safely do that without risking a great many more lives in the process.”

Shifting the focus of the primary display then to the last position logged for where the Diggledom submarine had surfaced, she continued, “Their sub surfaced around here, which straddles the line of their national waters. While this doesn’t help them directly, we are only fifty kilometers away and could pick up their men for them and the Novajev aren’t about to take any shots at us, we’re not at war with them.”

She could see the 5th Division operative straighten himself up, obviously not thrilled with the idea, but she wasn’t concerned with his opinion on this particular situation.

“Now we won’t be able to send a direct message to the Diggledom to tell them this without making it look like we’re in league with them to the Novajev that would in turn screw it all up, and it would take to long to send it through diplomatic channels. So we launch some of our helicopters now and broadcast our own open message to the Novajev, we tell them that for the sake of humanitarianism, or some jazz like that, we’re going to pull those sailors out of the water. We may not know for sure what the Novajev game plan is, but we do know their sailors aren’t cold blooded killers.”

There were a few nods from her staff officers and though some of them weren’t as fond of the idea, they didn’t voice any major concerns of the Admiral’s plan, knowing she was already well aware of the dangers in it. The order was quickly given to emergency launch five of their Kamovs for rescue operations and a message was quickly composed and sent off.

One of her staff officers made a quick calculation and then looked over towards the Admiral, “Our aircraft should be there in under three minutes.”

“Good.”

2158

20km east of Bitarjev - Guryev - Kuznetsov Class carrier

The CIC room was running quietly, no conversations were needed, so none were happening. The room was split into sections; radar, communications, sonar and weapons. Each of these was further subdivided, the radar one into direct radar feeds from the ship itself and received feeds, from the other ships in the battle group. It was in this section that the Kilrany action was first noticed. Since the Kilrany had treated them as Allies the technician monitoring their fleet was the least experienced on the watch.

Ena Vladi stretched, it was so boring to just sit watching a computer screen where nothing was expected to happen, at least the others got to look at some activity, all he was doing was watching the returns from the Kilrany navy to the battle groups south. He looked over his shoulder, watching to see if there was a supervisor around before yawning and stretching again, anything to take his mind of the boredom. Suddenly he noticed dot on the screen that hadn’t been there before. As he pulled himself closer to the screen he saw another four dots appear and start to accelerate. He reached out and started to edit the display, focusing in on the five marks. His eyes flicked between his two displays as he sorted the information in his mind. New contacts, low, too slow to be planes, probably helicopters he thought, immediately followed by, what the hell are they doing? He moved the radar screen out, tracking the helicopters for a few seconds to get a rough idea of their intentions. His eyes tracked over the map, their heading putting them just south of the submarine remains!

“Sir! We might have a problem!” He broke the near silence of the CIC room with his loud, slightly panicky shout. His section commander came running, ready to tell him to “Keep the fucking noise down” until he saw the radar returns as well, as soon as he did he did a quick about turn and ran to the phone to the Admirals quarters.


“Still no reply from the Novajevians?” The admiral asked, already knowing the answer from the look in his XO’s eyes.

“No sir. I don’t think we will be getting one either. They still seem to be gathering to the south of the isl….” He was interrupted by the sudden buzz of the desk mounted telephone. The admiral snatched it up,

“Kurzev.” He said.

His Xo listened to his side of the conversation.
“Did they? Any obvious intentions?”
“Really? Hmm, they might be out to rescue the guys.”
“Of course you don’t you fool, carry on watching but don’t activate targeting equipment.”
“A radio message? What does it say?”
“Are you sure?”
“Stroke of luck for us. Good work guys. Keep an eye on the situation.”
The admiral put the phone back onto it’s cradle with a smile on his face. Things were starting to look up.

“The Kilrany appear to be going forwards to rescue the guys, since they have no problem with the Novajev navy it should go off without a hitch. Order the rest of the ships to pull back. Bring the subs back as well, keep weapons trained on the enemy fleet but leave all active targeting off. We will see what happens. I will send a message back home about this new development.”

Vladik ran out of the room, finally things were looking like they might actually go right for a change.

It felt like time was moving painfully slow for the men and women inside the Fiery Dawn’s CIC as they watched the flight of Ka-29s approaching the Southern edge of the Novajev international waters. It had been two minutes since they had launched the aircraft and they hadn’t heard any reply from the Novajev yet, which was of concern given the current hostilities between Novajev and the Diggledom.

As Renatus watched their progress on the primary display, she wondered if she had ordered out enough aircraft to properly conduct rescue operations for what they thought was an attack submarine, the exact number of Diggledom men in the water was unknown. Each of their aircraft could carry sixteen men on a good day, but this number was cut down slightly by the presence of a rescue diver per aircraft should the need be there.

“Ma’am, message from the Novajev coming in now over open channel … they’re warning us to keep our aircraft away from their national waters.”

The call from one of the communication stations had drawn the Admiral’s attention quickly and when the sailor had finished speaking she addressed him, “Or they’ll do what?”

“No specific threat ma’am.”

She raised an eyebrow as she reached for a small headset resting on the primary display, “Oh really. Patch me in.”

As she donned the headset the sailor acknowledged the order and carried it out. While the signal was on an open frequency, those Kilrany in the CIC could only hear the Admiral’s side of the conversation.

Her tone was hard and cold, “This is Rear Admiral Sofia Renatus of the Kilrany Ninth Fleet, who am I speaking too?”

There were several moments of silence before the man on the other side responded somewhat meekly at first before attempting to take a hard line, “This is Lieutenant Bruno Kula … as I told your man Admiral, your aircraft will not be permitted to enter our national waters, if you do so we will be forced to take action.”

“Is that so Lieutenant?” she paused a moment, and despite her words when she spoke again, her tone remained even and matter of fact, which only served to unnerve the Novajev more then if she had yelled, “You tell your superiors this then, my helicopters are going to pull those men out of the water and if your ships, or ground air defenses so much as look at them the wrong way I will unleash every last piece of ordnance I have at my command and obliterate every last Novajev military target within the considerable range of my fleet.”

Instead of waiting for a response she half turned towards the communication’s officer and made a motion with her hand from left to right across her throat that was quickly carried out by the sailor, cutting the channel.

-----

Despite the short verbal joust over the open frequency that seemed to end with the Admiral on top, the five Kamovs moved in cautiously on their final approach. With the entirety of the Novajev naval remnants gathered relatively near the Diggledom sailors, they were a significant threat to the Kilrany aircraft should they choose to become hostile. Knowing full well no helicopter could survive inside the defensive range of a modern naval vessel, the lead helicopter of the Kilrany flight chose to move in first while the other four helicopters lingered outside the fifteen-kilometer range of the Sa-15s.

Carefully he brought his helicopter in closer to the Diggledom submariners in their inflatable rafts as his copilot watched the threat boards for any hostile action from the Novajev. None would come in the end, but the Kilrany pilots would not drop their guards until they were well away from Novajev national waters.

One by one each helicopter would come in one at a time and lift as many men out of the water as they could carry, their flight engineers operating the winch to lift out the submariners. Unsure how many men they had to pull out, they hoped it was no more then seventy-five or another flight of aircraft would have to be dispatched. Regardless of the final number, the last of the five helicopters picked up its full load, or the last Diggledom in the water, whichever the case may be before rotating around back South and leaving the area as well.

With an estimated two-minute flight back to the Kilrany fleet, the flight engineer in each aircraft attempted to ascertain who was the highest ranking officer and upon which helicopter he was located.

2159

The dull whump-whump-whump of helicopter blades carried well across the sea as the incoming Helix helicopters got closer. Since they were searching for survivors each helix had it’s mounted spot light turned on, each circle of light floating across the sea, watching for the orange life rafts. The Diggledom sailors hadn’t been in the water too long, less than fifteen minutes, so they were all still watching for any sign of imminent rescue. The first person to see the approaching Kilrany helicopters was Matrose Hall, the second youngest person from the submarine.

Even as he shouted that he had spotted something his training took over. Since these didn’t appear to be Novajev helicopters they were probably rescue helicopters he thought. He pulled the orange box from the mounting on the inside of the raft and pulled the small flare gun from it’s holder. He grabbed the raft’s overhead cover and pulled himself to his feet, fighting to keep stable despite the waves. He thrust the flare gun into the air above his head and fired, the red flare illuminating the area around the raft. All the rafts had been launched at the same time in the same area, so luckily for the rescuers they were all within a 200 metre radius, with all the crewmembers that were still alive aboard one of the five rafts.

Because he had been the first to spot the incoming rescue Hall was the first one from his raft to be winched to safety. Because the sailors were all in rafts the winches were released with only the straps on the end, the winch-operator operating the controls with the diver assisting in first aid for the rescued seamen. As Hall reached the hatch he was pulled inside by the diver and the straps released to start their next trip down to the raft. The diver quickly checked Hall for any evidence of bleeding or concussion before gently but firmly pushing him down onto one of the benches along the side of the helicopter.

“Just sit there lad, it’ll be okay.” He said, his calm manner calming Hall down as well.

As the captain of the submarine Kiselyov made sure that all the men from his raft were onboard the rescue helicopter before he strapped himself into the winch and was pulled into the helicopter. As soon as he was onboard the flight engineer moved towards him and shouted,

“Are you the captain?”

“Yeah, much obliged to you guys for the rescue. Balen Kiselyov is me. What can I do for you?”

21km east of Bitarjev - Guryev - Kuznetsov Class carrier

"Sir, latest radar reports indicate that the helicopters are pulling back to the Kilrany fleet. What do you want us to do?"

"We pull back further, then circle around south to the Kilrany. We have to give them our thanks, both formally and informally. Lets see if we have any good presents onboard eh?"

"Yes sir!"

The two officers were both grinning, all their previous tiredness discarded in the post-victory happiness.

The loud rhythmic thumping of the helicopters blades did force the flight engineer, a younger Kilrany male around twenty-four by the name of Abram Borodin to speak loudly and clearly. Long hours of flight time had taught him how to carry his voice over without shouting, though it may have sounded like it to someone not accustomed to regular flight in a helicopter.

“Pleasure to meet you sir, unfortunate it couldn’t be under better circumstances. Regardless, I’ve been told that when we land, you’ll be escorted to the ship’s communication’s room, they want you personally to send the message that you’re onboard and all is well and that we intend to relay you back to Kilrany. Given the hostilities they don’t want to risk a direct transfer with our proximity to the Novajev.”

He paused a moment as he received a message from the pilot asking the status of the rescued men, he replied in his native tongue, not expecting the Diggledom to understand, though it wasn’t his intent. A moment later he looked back at the Captain and continued.

“We’ll be landing in about one minute, we’re going to lock down the aircraft then power down so our flight crew can top off our tank before we leave again for airport in Vana where they intend to make further arrangements for getting you back home. Once we’ve landed and powered down, you’re men will be able to exit the helicopter and stretch their legs for a few minutes while they carry out the refueling and you get to send your message. Doesn’t look like you have any wounded in this group, so we shouldn’t need to move anyone too far.”

He paused again as a message came through his communications set, “Alright, we’re about to make our approach so I have to do my job now, I’ll give you the signal when you all can hope out for a minute.”

While Ninth fleet was not the largest of Kilrany task forces, designed more for the defense of Kilrany national waters, it was of decent size for the mission at hand. At its heart was the KIN Fiery Dawn, the Poseiden class vessel with its command and control capabilities, around it was a Kirov class cruiser, two Sovremenny class destroyers, two Udaloy II class destroyers and four Neustrashimy class frigates. With the exception of the Poseiden, a Kilrany design, they were all originally Russian designed vessels built and modified by KIAM to fit the needs of the Kilrany Imperial Navy. The surface vessels were not however the sole protection for the small fleet, two German designed and Kilrany modified Type 214 attack submarines were also present near the small fleet, hidden below the waves.

Due to the fact that most of the outer ring of Kilrany vessels’ Kamovs had been conducting ASW operations at the time of the emergency launch order, the majority of Kamovs carrying Diggledom submarines belonged to the ships of the inner ring. In the case of the helicopter carrying Captain Kiselyov, they would find themselves approaching on of the Northern most Sovremenny class destroyers.

While it was not entirely necessary given the relatively calm sea state, the pilot lowered the centered cable line, which was quickly and carefully caught by deck hands below and fed into a winch. The deck hands moved to the sides of the landing pad as the cable went taut and the winch began to pull the helicopter down as the pilot increased power against it, should the aft end of the ship rise unexpectedly with a sudden wave, the helicopter would not be swatted out of the sky by it.

Touching down moments later, the deck hands swarmed around the Kamov; keeping their heads low they made short work of locking down the wheels and tying down the aircraft so it wouldn’t slide across the deck. It took another minute for the engines and the rotors of the Kamov to die down, at which point Borodin signaled to the Diggledom, opened the rear left hatch and jumped out.

He remained next to the however to give the Diggledom directions to where they could go without being in the way; despite them being sailors, he decided to air on the side of caution that they may not be familiar with the operations on a destroyer, being submariners. As he stood there, he glanced about the aft section of the destroyer, no matter how many times he’d operated here at night, he always found the red nighttime running lights just a little bit eerie, as unlike normal white lights, they left more of one’s natural night vision intact.

While this gave a somewhat dramatic look to the vessels of the Kilrany navy, this was only amplified on the Poseiden class off to the Sovremenny’s port side. The nearly blood red lights highlighting the large, three hundred meter long armoured hull and superstructure along with its four, three gun turrets holding four hundred and six millimeter caliber guns. While not the largest warships in the world, the modern designed and built Poseidens were still proudly used within the Kilrany Imperial Navy.

Aside from the lighting conditions, the Diggledom might have noticed that all the deck hands and visible Kilrany crewmen all wore their service sidearms. This wasn’t however out of distrust for the Diggledom, but rather standard procedure for all on duty personnel to be armed and proficient with a sidearm.

When Captain Kiselyov exited the aircraft, Borodin pointed his hand in the direction of an officer standing off to the starboard side of the ship, near a hatchway, “Sir, that fellow there will escort you to the ship’s communication’s room, just tell him who you are and we’ll all be on our way shortly.”

Clad in the typical black uniform of the Kilrany navy, similar to Soviet and Russian naval uniforms, the officer, one Lieutenant Commander Yashin, waited for the Diggledom Captain. When the officer came over to him, he introduced himself and led him in through the starboard hatch to the communication’s room so he could send a message. He used the starboard hatch so the Diggledom wouldn’t see the twelve-man section of fully armed and equipped naval infantrymen lining the corridor on the port side, not wishing to make the foreign sailors uncomfortable. Like the sailors carrying sidearms, the presence of the naval infantrymen was part of standard procedures, no foreign personnel, not even close allies were permitted free access to Kilrany vessels and required and escort.

While Yashin escorted Kiselyov and the remaining Diggledom sailors stretched their legs, the deck hands quickly attached the fuel hose and several ‘ground crew’ gave the helicopter a quick inspection for any problems. It would take several minutes for Kiselyov to reach the communication’s room, send his message and return, but by the time he was escorted back, the helicopters were refueled and ready to go. Borodin waited until all the Diggledom had boarded the Kamov once again before he himself climbed aboard and closed the hatch.

Within minutes they were off again and headed South towards the Northern Kilrany port city of Vana where the civilians had landed at earlier in the day.

Kiselyov listened as the younger man explained the plan, when he was finished he circled his thumb and forefinger, giving the divers “Ok” sign. As Adam turned to look towards the cockpit Balen took the opportunity to have a quick look through the helicopter, seeing most of the men onboard hunched up under reflective blankets, beginning to warm up again. As Adam started to address him again he turned back towards the man and pulled his own blanket more tightly around his shoulders. As was normal in times of stress he hadn’t noticed the cold as much, though now as his body slowly returned to normal he could feel the temperature change.

As the helicopter came in to land Balen watched the crew carefully, normally he was a brave man, but something about helicopters scared him slightly. The fact they couldn’t glide if any of a thousand things went wrong perhaps? But on this landing, as with all the others he had ever been on and ever seen all went fine. He was impressed with the professionalism of the Kilrany sailors as he saw them go about their tasks as the helicopter settled on the deck, immediately moving in to begin the refuelling.

“Sir, that fellow there will escort you to the ship’s communication’s room, just tell him who you are and we’ll all be on our way shortly.” Adam said, pointing to another man across the deck. Balen followed the line of the mans arm and headed towards the other officer.

“Hey there, I am captain Kiselyov. I understand you are taking me to the comms room?” He said offering his hand to the other officer. The other man shook his offered hand and replied, “Evening Sir. I am Lieutenant Commander Yashin. I will be your tour guide tonight, first, and last, on tour will be the ships amazing comms room.” A smile played across Kiselyov’s lips as he followed the Lieutenant commander through the corridors, emerging into a room filled with communications equipment.

One of the technicians slid out of her seat and motioned for the captain to take her place.
“The radio is set to the Diggledom frequency we were sent when your fleet rolled up. If you want I can leave, though the Lieutenant commander here will stay.” The operator said, watching as Kiselyov eyed the complex control deck in front of him.
“Oh no, I don’t mind anyone hearing what I have got to say. I won’t be a minute.” He picked up the headset and slid the microphone down in front of his mouth.

“Guryev radio room this is captain Kiselyov. Do you read? Over.”
There was a slight pause before the reply came through.
“Kiselyov this is Guryev. Authenticate, enrol. Over.”
“Guryev, Kiselyov. Reply, test. Over.”
“Kiselyov, Guryev. Confirmed. Are you calling from the Kilrany vessel? Over.”
“Guryev, Kiselyov. Yeah. All the survivors are here. We are being transferred to a port named Vana. What are our instructions? Over.”
“Kiselyov, Guryev. Wait out. Over.”
Balen rocked back in the chair, trying unsuccessfully to remove a kink from his neck as he waited for the Guryev radio operator to come back on the air.
“Kiselyov, Guryev. Instructions are to wait at port for pick-up. Will be with you shortly. I quote, ‘Convey our regards to the Kilrany and assure them if they ever need any help the Diggledom navy will be waiting for the call.’ End quote. Over.”
“Guryev, Kiselyov. Will do. See you after pickup. Kiselyov out.” He pulled the headset off and looked up at Yashin, who was leaning against the wall talking quietly to the radio operator. As soon as he stood up Yashin pushed himself off the wall and gestured for Balen to follow him again, leading him quickly back to the helicopter landing deck.

“Hope you enjoyed your tour sir. If I see you again I hope it is in better circumstances.” He nodded to the Balen before turning and making his way back inside. As the rest of the enlisted Diggledom men from the helicopter noticed the captain reappearing they made their way back to the helicopter, climbing through the hatch next to which Adam was stood, counting the fourteen men back onto the helicopter and as soon as the last man mounted up, climbing in himself and closing the hatch behind him. With only a slight change in engine noise the helicopter lifted off, heading towards Kilrany.

Captain Lepp, the most senior officer on the remaining Novajev naval vessels stood quietly in his ship’s CIC, slowly scanning the readouts over the shoulders of his crew. He was tired, not merely physically so, but mentally as well, having been on duty the entire day and for much longer thanks to the sudden attack by the Diggledom. The stress of an actual combat situation was hard on him; the training they had received prepared one for only so much.

It was now five minutes past twenty-two hundred hours and his ships were breaking off from their course East back West after a quick order from Lepp when new information came to him. They had only been a few kilometers from the Southeastern coast of Novajev at high speed when it became quite apparent that the Diggledom task force was moving away from the island. Not only did this indicate that they were possibly withdrawing, but it threw a major snag into his plan of attack, with the Diggledom ships moving away from them it would cut down his closing rate far too much for his liking.

Adding to his feeling of weariness was a feeling of frustration that came from his inability to strike back at his nation’s attackers after the damage the Diggledom had caused, blaming himself for not doing enough through his own mental process. The casualty numbers didn’t help him either however, while they were still coming in, an extremely small number of men survived on the naval vessels hit by the enemy torpedoes. The short engagement time, including only moments to declare battlestations, had meant many men hadn’t the time to don proper life vests and were believed drowned when sucked down with the sinking ships.

Unwilling to leave his station just yet in a hope that he could do something to prevent more deaths, he ordered all the ships to remain on high alert despite the apparent withdrawal of Diggledom forces. Closer to the island, the Kamov continued to track their movements and the remaining ships kept together, pounding the sea incessantly with their active sonar to prevent any submarine from getting close to them again.

Minutes continued to pass and Lepp orders his communications officer to send a message to Admiral Ekster, indicating that he was going to reform the fleet on the South for the time being and return to a economical cruise speed. With that done he went back to watching the monitors, deciding that if the Diggledom vessels continued to leave, he would hand over control of the ship in one hour to try and get some rest.

-----

With a bit more energy the Captain Lepp, Admiral Renatus stood with her arms crossed in front of the primary display in the Fiery Dawn’s CIC, she was mostly alone with the exception of those crewmen lining the outer edge of the room at their stations and one lone 5th Division operative quietly watching the primary display himself. She had dismissed her command staff for the night after the successful rescue of the Diggledom sailors, which they had watched land on several vessels on the primary display, the feed coming from a mast mounted camera over the ship’s superstructure. She herself was about to call it a night in the next couple minutes.

For the most part she was trying to decide whether things had gone well or not during the entire situation. Granted, most of the foreign civilians caught in the middle were evacuated earlier in the day, some still remained. But more damaging off all was the loss of life on military personnel; the nation of Orbath had taken casualties, as had the Diggledom and the Novajev themselves. The latter no doubt going to complain loudly through diplomatic channels about how the Kilrany had not honoured their word.

If someone had asked her if things had gone well, they would have got a very straightforward and brief, no. The Novajev had lost seven ships outright, the Orbath a currently unknown number of aircraft, and the Diggledom had lost one submarine, now sitting somewhere on the bottom of the ocean floor inside Novajev waters and taken heavy damage to multiple ships. There was no way she could call it a good ending.

Though if she knew what was coming for the morning, she never would have thought it an ending just then.

-----

Farther to the North, just West of Bilikov at the Novajev firebase, the mercenary soldiers were slowly coming out of their hiding positions, among then was their immediate superior, Captain Edison. With the cessation of artillery fire and a report from their command that the Diggledom ships were now out of range, they figured it was the right time to check on the status of their guns.

Given the intensity of the barrage, Edison was fairly pleased that only three of the guns were knocked out, having taken the direct hit necessary to kill the heavy Russian designed weapons. Though it was by no means a good situation, it was better then what he had expected. Walking over to the left he took note that one of the magazine pits had taken a hit as well, the shells having exploded up and out of the dugout as it was meant to and preventing damage to the gun itself.

He continued on, making note of the damages to report back to command about.

-----

Near the heart of Barracks Thirty-Seven, within the rather immense port city of Vana, what could be described as an unusual sight to foreigners, that of a six-man fireteam from an assault section of fully armed and equipped ISM officers casually sitting, some standing, inside a mid sized room with one twin double door opposite an elevator, was normal for these Kilrany, knowing it was simply their week to play security guard. Most of them believed the duty was somewhat redundant given the basic security in a standard ISM barracks, which were as close to urban fortresses as anything got with the exception of the Kilrany Imperial Palace, regardless however, they where there. Most of them merely chatted among themselves or played cards, their weapons hanging by their tactical slings, it was rare that they saw anyone else in this room, but today would be different.

With only a little noise the elevator doors opened, immediately drawing their attention to a pair of black clad 5th Division soldiers, neither of which were armed with rifle or SMG. As far as the ISM knew, they guarded an entrance to the restricted section of the garage, supposedly used by 5th Division for some of their vehicles, while partly true, it disguised its true use, much as it did at other ISM barracks across Kilrany.

Without words being spoken, they exited the elevator only to be challenged by one of the ISM officers who simply stood in their path for a moment. All concerned knew the drill, as did the 5th Division soldiers, the lead of the two promptly removing something from a pouch on his person and showing it to the ISM officer who had stepped forward.

While this was done quickly, one officer to the side was curious in regards to a pair of small blood red crossed swords directly below the main 5th Division insignia, which in turn was a rather impressive red dragon. Unknown to those outside the Imperial Guard, this marked both 5th as being specialists in interrogation.

The officer had no time to ponder what the extra insignia meant as the other officer handed back the item and quickly got out of the way, letting the two soldiers continue onwards.

Not far from this room Sergei Tretiak still sat next to the man only known as Vasil Barkov, though his newly found multiple passports gave them insight into some of his aliases. Tretiak had however managed to convince the ISM officers to give him a few minutes; the public defender was still hoping he might convince the man to speak to him.

He had made no progress when a pair of new figures at the door to the holding cell room caught everyone’s attention. They all immediately recognized the 5th Division soldiers, which also prompted a quick, if muted personal reply from Tretiak.

“Oh shit.”

The admiral had finally gone to bed. The man was determined but was getting older, of that there was no doubt mused Vladik, enjoying a cup of coffee in the officers mess. Around him there were several other officers that had come off duty at 2200, most of them shouting at each other, their loud boisterousness banishing the memories of stress and fear from the last few hours. He knew that it would be the same on all the other Diggledom ships, they had rescued their man, proved their superiority and were now heading back to port.

The Vice Admirals mind turned to their allies, the Kilrany. They had certainly been highly helpful and whereas they could have interfered greatly with the actions of the Diggledom fleet they had been content to merely sit and watch before swooping in to rescue the Diggledom sailors. It was unusual to find someone who would risk themselves to rescue the men of a country that wasn’t even an ally. From what he had heard from the rest of the officers they all felt the same way, despite the comments about how the fleet could have “bombed the buggers to the stone age”, but that was the navy pride speaking, more than actual brains, both of which were possessed in large amounts by all the officers.

The fleet had slowly reformed and was making it’s way south, towards the Kilrany mainland, the submarines now on the inside of the formation to show their lack of hostile intent. They were going slowly, allowing the damaged ships to stay in the formation. For a while there had been worries that the enemy fleet would continue the chase but they appeared to have broken off, not wanting to follow them into deeper water where the submarines would have an easier time hunting them. As they moved past the Kilrany fleet a single radio message was sent across to Admiral Renatus,

“We thank you for the rescue. May fair weather smile upon you and good winds speed you on your way.”

While not entirely orthodox it was an old Diggledom sailors blessing and considered appropriate saying for the time and place.

“Message reads as, ‘we thank you for the rescue. May fair weather smile upon you and good winds speed you on your way,’ the communications officer mumbled under his breath a moment later, “Odd bloody message.” This was however due to his own ignorance regarding old sailor sayings, while the Kilrany Empire had a long running naval program, it had few special traditions.

Admiral Renatus acknowledged the relayed message before responding with her own, “Send this back, you’re thanks are appreciated, however we note that several of your vessels are damaged, if you would like, we can dispatch several military tugs to assist. That’s it, send it along.”

“Yes ma’am.”

As she turned back to the primary display, she noted a raised eyebrow on the 5th Division operative, no doubt he was curious why she would be extending their resources to help strangers. She ignored the look, dismissing the unsaid question as 5th Division’s natural paranoia and slight xenophobia.

With the immediate threat over with and the Novajev moving Westward, possibly towards their one major port and the Diggledom heading South, Renatus decided that now would be a decent time call it a night.

“Communications, if they reply and accept the offer, signal fleet command and request a half dozen tugs to assist the damaged Diggledom ships.”

“Yes ma’am.”

-----

Inside the holding cell Sergei Tretiak stood up quickly moments after seeing the two 5th Division soldiers enter the room and his slight mumbled curse. He was perhaps not the oldest or most experienced public defender, but he was still a Kilrany and he knew that it was never a good sign when 5th Division showed up.

He gave Barkov a quickly look before moving towards the cell door, which was being unlocked by one of the ISM officers, “Sir, this is now out of my hands.”

Not being a Kilrany citizen, Barkov didn’t understand the significance of these two new arrivals dressed in black body armour, the hilt of a sword visible of their shoulders. However given the reactions of the others around him, he quickly came to the conclusion that something was very wrong now.

“What’s going on? Who the hell are these guys?”

Initially there was no reply, Tretiak nervously cleared his throat as he passed by the two 5th as he left the room, knowing that this was one of those situations that he best forget and never speak of.

With Tretiak gone, the two 5th Division operatives moved towards the cell, the ISM officers moved quickly, securing Barkov once more for transport. The officer who had been examining the briefcase quickly replaced what he was done and closed it, handing it over to one of the two operatives. Once Barkov was out of the holding cell, the ISM officers in essence, wiped their hands clean of the incident as the 5th took Barkov back towards the elevator. The ISM would mark this down simply as, ‘suspect released from custody’, and with the involvement of 5th, the ISM officers present would not say a word otherwise.

"They want to know if we need any help getting back to port. What shall I say sir?"

"Accept the offer. We could do with the help and this could be the start of a long term alliance. Better warn them about the missile damage."

The radio operator turned back to his high gain transmitter, pulled the microphone closer to his mouth and began,

"The help would be much appreciated. A brief warning however, one of the missile cruisers took a hit to the missile cells, so your people may not want to board unless they are wearing gas masks. This is because of the fuel, not because of chemical or biological weapons. Thanks for the offer."

After listening to the Diggledom reply, the communications officer on duty responded with a simple acknowledgement of the warning and a rough estimate to when the tugs would be expected on station. With that done, he switched over the frequency and encryption to contact Kilrany fleet command to send along Admiral Renatus’ request for the military grade tugboats to assist the damaged Diggledom vessels.

Their reply was equally short and straightforward in their acknowledgement of the request and gave their own estimate, which fortunately coincided with that the Diggledom had been told. With the same speed they sent out their own order to one of the Kilrany Imperial Navy’s Northeastern facilities to dispatch six ocean going tugs to head North to render assistance to the Diggledom.

Despite the relative proximity of the Diggledom, the tugs would take at least two hours to make there way to them given the slower speed of both the Diggledom and the tugs themselves. Though the warning was received and acknowledged by the tugs crews, along with provisions made by them to be prepared for a chemical leak with their NBC suits on hand, it would not end up being necessary for the time being as they had no intention of boarding the ships, merely giving them a tow.

Unsure whether the Diggledom intended to return to their homeport or one of Kilrany’s ports for a short-term stay, the tugs’ crews were prepared for either. Should it be the latter, the original restrictions on the number of Diggledom vessels allowed directly in port was to be modified, not counting the presence of the damaged ships in the count.

However following with usual somewhat xenophobic and paranoid nature of the Kilrany, two full companies of Naval Infantry were on standby to move in to whichever port the Diggledom should land at if they came back to Kilrany. This was implemented in order reinforce the ISM patrols in the given area as a direct result of the leeway that would be given in the number of ships present.

The sight of so many military personnel and armoured vehicles would not come as a great surprise to the general Kilrany population. Years of seeing the ISM in their armoured vehicles coupled with the close ties between them and the formal military units and the mandatory military service throughout the nation, ensured that the sight of them was hardly anything new.

The Kilrany assistance did not go unnoticed by the Novajev however, and when it became clear that Kilrany naval assets were now directly assisting the Diggledom, Admiral Ekster was by no means pleased. Three hours after the tugs had set out, the Kilrany ambassador still in Novajev received a very angry call from the Novajev Admiral, which included numerous veiled threats as a result of the Kilrany support of the Diggledom navy.

When the conversation ended, the ambassador made a quick call back home over a secure line to report the incident. Despite Ekster’s words, they were deemed empty threats given the position the Novajev were in, but no one’s to let their guard down, all military assets were ordered to a heightened alert status.

There would be no further incidents till morning, however, before dawn broke, the situation involving Novajev would quickly spiral out of control.

The Kilrany tugs were crewed by highly experienced sailors, each of the damaged Diggledom ships was escorted by a single tug in front, towing a line attached to the prow of the ship and a single tug halfway along each side, pulling the ship via a set of massive steel cables.

The skill of the Kilrany sailors was evident when the ships began to move, the three tugs hovering within metres of the ships sides but never coming close enough to actually collide with the ships.

Though the tugs were slow and the damaged Diggledom ships slowed the convoy didn't make bad time, arriving at Vana at slightly after 0430 in the morning. Immediately the Kilrany tugs nosed the damaged Diggledom ships into berths, securing them to the dock before allowing all the sailors to offload onto the deck where they formed up before the ships captains stood to address them.

"Guys, we are here at the invitation of the Kilrany. This means there will be no trouble. Tonight is the first night so no drinking, going and find some beds, get your heads down and we will have a roll call back at these docks at 1700 today." The ships SNCO marched to the front of the parade, saluted the captain, turned to face the crew and bellowed in his best parade ground voice,
"Ship, officer on parade, dismissed." Before turning to face the officer and snapping his arm up in another salute.

This same scene was playing out among all the ships that had berthed at the Kilrany docks. As soon as the ships enlisted crews left the captains met with the Vice Admiral before heading towards the Kilrany city, they had already gone over the rules of their stay with the Kilrany and while they were mildly restrictive they werent nearly as bad as they had expected. Now they were just going to meet the newly returned Diggledom submariners and they would go to bed, expecting not to be woken until late in the afternoon.

Morning came slowly for the crew of the old Los Angeles class attack submarine, it had been hard to be patient as they were finally so close to their goal. Karl had tried to sleep through the night, but he had found it incredibly difficult to do so, nervous excitement filled him as he imagined the results that would come.

Eventually the time came and he left his cabin and made his way towards the ship’s control room, it was still before sunrise above the darkness of the water, approaching oh four hundred hours. Being summer the sun would rise early and their plan needed to have them on their way by then.

On his way towards the control he found himself just behind Paul, the one he and his crew had figured for their resident spook. They didn’t exchange any words, both of them knew what was going to happen if certain variables were as they were supposed to be.

Once inside the control room, the last few minutes before the hour came around seemed the longest, but it finally came.

“Sir, we’re receiving the signal now.”

Karl smiled, just over three days of waiting and here their moment finally came, a pre arranged signal was picked up, in it contained the exact location of the Kilrany task force and the course it had been following since the apparent coup on Novajev.

“Sonar, are you tracking anything near us?”

“No sir, nothing that I can hear.”

“Good, con, blow ballast, get us off the bottom.”

“Yes sir.”

He could hear the anticipation in the voices of his crew, they knew what was about to happen as much as he did and they all hoped it went according to plan.

“Weapons station, have you updated accordingly to the information?”

“Yes sir, as soon as we reach the proper depth, we’re ready to go.”

Slowly at first the attack submarine lifted off the soft ocean floor some ten kilometers North of Novajev, the previous night’s action only helping them all the more with the complete lack of any Novajev naval vessels on the North, they had nothing to worry about anymore.

Seconds passed as the submarine continued to rise from the relatively shallow depths; Karl listened as navigation called out their depth, as they got closer to the surface. A few moments later the communications buoy they had raise earlier was lowered and re-secured.

“Weapons station, fire at your discretion.”

“Yes sir.”

Ordered loaded over the night, the handful of men onboard the submarine had already loaded the four torpedo tubes with the missiles the Iriani had acquired during their time in the FLRJ. While they were older models and better, newer ones existed, the importance of them was the fact they were acquired from the FLRJ, originally sold to them by the Kilrany for use in their own submarines against the Fascist fleet. It was a bittersweet fact that Paul reveled in.

One by one the Iriani officer at the weapons control station ordered the torpedo tubes open and pressed the fire button in turn. One by one each missile shot out of their tubes and upwards towards the ocean’s surface where they broke from the water, their main rocket engines ignited and powered them southward towards the Novajev coast at low altitude.

Their programmed flight would take them the first ten kilometers to Novajev a mere six meters off the water, where as they approached Foxtrot-Zero, they would rise upwards to popup over the Northern Novajev mountain range. Keeping low they would drop back down and follow the Novajev River, which cut the island nearly in half South for ten kilometers, exiting to the South near Golf-Seven and begin their final burn towards the Kilrany task force some fifty kilometers South of Novajev.

Traveling at roughly nine hundred kilometers an hour, it would take them roughly five and a half minutes to reach their targets. Within thirty kilometers, the missiles would independently choose their targets based on proximity. While each missile had a two hundred kilogram warhead, neither Paul nor Karl expected either to actually hit a target, though it would be a bonus if they did. The entire plan rested on having the Kilrany believe that the missiles were launched from Novajev and with the Northern Novajev mountain range blocking their radars line of sight, they would never know where the missiles really came from.

“Con, set course zero, one zero degrees, speed ten knots.”

“Aye sir.”

“With their missiles on the way, the old Iriani Los Angeles attack submarine turned back North to follow a course back home.

On the North of Novajev, Captain Edison was observing his men continue work on repairing damage done to the firebase, though the sun had not yet risen, the reddening sky foretold it’s coming. For the most part this came down to filling in nearby craters so any attacks by ground forces would not have them to hide in and use for cover. Though additional work had to be done to repair the gun pits, which in relation to the craters was a relatively easy task.

The Iriani missiles, while traveling at nine hundred kilometers an hour, were preceded by the sound of their own engines, though rather faintly. Edison happened to be looking North when the first missiles conducted its popup maneuver to take them over the Northern mountains. A mere eight meters off the ground the whoosh of their passage over head instinctively caused everyone to dive for cover, most in the very craters they were working on filling in, including Edison.

They were gone as soon as they had come and after nearly a full minute in cover, the mercenaries slowly began to poke their heads back up after the lack of any explosion.

-----

Nearly eleven kilometers South of the firebase, Linas Mikenas stood with his FN Minimi just behind a sandbagged barricade that itself sat just off to the right side of the road on the Western side of the Southern most bridge. Across the way through his night vision goggles, he could see the other infantry section with their APC guarding the Eastern approach to the bridge.

Unlike other positions that had come under fire the night before, his had been quiet for the past several days with only the routine civilian and military traffic, making for a very dull and dreary position. As he looked to his front, across the nearly kilometer long bridge, something flashed by just barely above it roughly halfway across, the engine noise quickly reaching him.

By the time the fourth missile passed by, all twenty four men and vehicle crew were watching, completely dumbfounded as to what had just happened, Linas put their thoughts into words, “What the fuck?”

-----

“What the hell was that?”

The question came from a Lieutenant commander Evgeni Makarov when he saw something briefly appear marked on the primary display in the CIC of the Fiery Dawn on the North end of Novajev, quickly followed by three more such short lived blips. He wasn’t on Renatus’ staff, instead he was a subordinate of Captain Tszyu, the commander of the Fiery Dawn, and he had taken over watch in the CIC when Renatus had left.

Not far from him was one of the 5th Division operatives who had heard the murmured question and seen the reason for it on the display. Though he remained silent, he wasn’t sure as to what the brief contacts had been either as they were now lost in the ground clutter of Novajev, not even the multiple overlapping radar signals helped detect the missiles given their current location.

It wouldn’t be a long wait for them to find out just, ‘what the hell’ the contacts were as just over a minute later they broke from their concealment on the Southern coastline with a direct course towards the Kilrany ships. Already on a heightened alert from the night before, most of their defensive weapons were already on standby.

The radar officer called out the new contacts at the same time they showed up on the primary display for Makarov to see, both quickly coming to the conclusion they were hostile as the initially white symbols turned dark red, “Contacts fifty kilometers North on bearing zero, zero-seven. Small and fast moving, threat board designating as likely anti-ship missiles, characteristics match those of the Kh-35 within the FLRJ database.”

Thanks in large part to the simple fact that one could not ‘see’ the missiles through the radar sweeps, they didn’t know that the missiles weren’t in fact Kh-35s which were land launched, but a Kilrany designed submarine launched missile of similar characteristics.

Makarov reacted quickly, “Set condition one on all decks, shoot those damn Novajev missiles out of the sky the second they’re over the horizon!”

It was an understandable assumption given where the missiles seemed to be coming from, but it was one that would turn out to be a costly mistake.

-----

In her quarters, Admiral Renatus was stretching her legs in anticipation of an early morning run around the deck of the Fiery Dawn when the klaxons began to blare out. She cursed loudly to herself as the klaxon was drowned out for a moment by a crewman on the intercom, “All hands to battlestations, set condition one in all spaces, this is not a drill, I repeat, all hands to battlestations, set condition one in all compartments, this is not a drill, we are under attack.”

By the time the crewman on the intercom had stopped speaking and the klaxon had come back on Renatus had donned her black naval uniform and was half sprinting out of her quarters towards the ship’s CIC. She fumbled with the clasp of her belt, which held her sidearm, as she moved quickly through the corridors in which she was far from alone. Similarly black clad crewman and fully armed and equipped naval infantrymen moved through them as well to their respective posts.

The Naval Infantrymen on guard around the CIC and its corridors watched as she ran past them without a word. She entered the CIC at the same time the incoming missiles were coming into sight over the horizon.

“They’ve gone active and are locking on!”

“Initiate full spectrum ECM, all weapon systems commence firing! Bring us to bearing three, five-zero, order line formation.”

Throughout the fleet the Kilrany vessels began slamming out jamming signals across various frequencies as they sought to confuse the inbound missiles. At the same time the ships on the outer ring with clear fields of fire began to pick their targets, the first line of their anti-missile defense being the KIAM MRADM.

Moving quickly towards the display screen her presence was quickly noticed by Makarov who she addressed first, “I want a SITREP, who’s fired on us?”

“Ma’am, we’ve got four inbound missiles from Novajev, we are taking defensive action now. The Novajev ships have started maneuvering and it looks like they’re trying to come about South, range roughly forty kilometers. No doubt getting into a firing position.”

-----

To say that the Novajev naval remnants were startled by the sudden appearance of the anti-ship missiles would have been a colossal understatement. Near panic took hold as they saw these missiles appear from there own coastline and without immediate orders from Captain Lepp, who was currently sleeping, each ship’s commanding officer ordered their own defensive actions. This in turn forced most of them to come on a Southerly bearing rather then turn towards the island.

Their frequencies quickly became overloaded as the various commanders tried to contact their superiors for orders; none came from either the subordinates of Admiral Ekster or Captain Lepp, as they in turn were unable to get in contact with them. To make matters worse, despite the horizon blocking a direct line of sight, their frequencies were being affected by the combined jamming power of the Kilrany fleet to the South.

This all culminated in a fateful decision by one Novajev, a Commander Chaim Soutine, Captain of the Novajev Pauk class fast attack ship, Bykhov. Like most of the Novajev naval personnel, he had a crucial lack of combat experience, which led to his near panic state when he was unable to get answers from his superiors. Knowing that he was near the bottom of the chain of command, he came to the false conclusion that Admiral Ekster had ordered the land based missiles to strike at the Kilrany and they simply hadn’t been informed properly, seeing no other source for them. In addition to this, they were still receiving an over the horizon feed from one of the Kamovs which indicated that Kilrany where turning North, though it was intermittent due to the Kilrany jamming.

Back onboard the Trovara, a bleary eyed Captain Lepp almost stumbled over the rim of the hatchway leading in to his ship’s CIC as he was finishing buttoning up his uniform’s coat.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Sir, we detected four missiles launched from the island, we initially took evasive action but it appears they were targeted on the Kilrany.”

Slightly more alert, a bewildered look came across his face, initially believing he hadn’t heard right, “What?”

The crewman repeated himself and this time it sunk in to the Novajev Captain, “This can’t be right, get me Admiral Ekster.”

“We’ve been trying to do that for the last minute sir, he turned in for the night and fleet command is still trying to get a hold of him.”

“God damnit, I want to know where the hell those-” he was cut off abruptly by one of the crewman at the radar station.

“Missile launch! Sir, the Bykhov is launching missiles!”

“What the hell? Get me Commander Soutine now!”

“Yes sir!”

-----

It was too late to stop the Bykhov as Commander Soutine had ordered his weapon’s officer to salvo fire all eight of their SS-N-22 anti-ship missiles at the Kilrany to the South. With the combined airborne early warning radars transmitting to Ninth Fleet, all those in the CIC of the Fiery Dawn quickly noted the new launch. The original four missiles had been relatively easily dispatched by a dozen KIAM MRADMs, which had easily reached the subsonic anti-ship missiles before they could get within ten kilometers of their targets.

“Admiral, we have a confirmed missile launch from one of the Novajev vessels.”

Renatus cursed under her breath and reached for one of the headsets, quickly putting it on, “Communications, patch me through to the fleet.”

The order was quickly carried out and the crewman signaled to the Admiral that she was patched in, “All ships, this is Admiral Renatus, all Novajev vessels are now hostile, you are cleared to engage at will, I repeat, engage at will. Blow the bastards out of the water!”

Under normal circumstances, the Admiral would have needed authorization from Kilrany Fleet Command to take the steps she was now and attack the Novajev, but with the heightened alert order from earlier in the morning, she now had the discretion to take offensive action as she saw fit. As it was now, every Kilrany commander in Ninth fleet were now ordering targeting solutions on the Novajev naval vessels and preparing to fire their own missiles as the eight new Novajev missiles streaked in at over mach two.

-----

“What the fuck were you thinking Commander? Why the hell did you fire on the Kilrany?”

The crewman inside the CIC could not hear the response from Commander Soutine after Captain Lepp finished screaming into the microphone on the headset he now wore. Whatever it may have been was quickly forgotten however when once again the radar operator called out.

“Missile launch detected from the Kilrany, they are launching anti-ship missiles.”

Lepp cursed loudly as he saw what the radar operator saw over the crewman’s shoulder, easily noticing the new contacts breaking from the Kilrany ships and rapidly advancing towards them.

“Order all ships to fire on the Kilrany and take evasive action.”

-----

There was nothing he could do for the time being from his position on the bridge, with command now situated in the Fiery Dawn’s CIC, Petty Officer Second Class Anton Rossi could only sit at his station and look out through the bridge’s windscreen. While he didn’t fully know what was going on, he did know that both they and the Novajev had launched missiles at each other, and that those supersonic missiles were racing in with machine precision indifference to kill them. The mental image of these mach two killers passing each other in the air would perhaps have been an amusing one at another time, but not now.

Through the bridge windscreen he could see the KIAM produced MRADMs punch out of their quad stacked vertical launch systems forward of turret one with an almost machine gun like rapidity. Hurled out of their storage cells by the gas charge of their VLS coldfire system, their motors would ignite moments later and push them on their way towards their intended targets.

This alone told him that the situation was serious indeed as those missiles were salvo fired with what seemed to be little regard to ammunition conservation. While each missile could reach out and touch a target at nearly sixty kilometers, the horizon limited their engagement range against the incoming missiles to around thirty-five kilometers, and at over mach two, that gave barely thirty some odd seconds for the system to track, lock on, fire and reach the target before it reached their own target, namely him and his ship.

He didn’t know it, but as orders were being carried out in the CIC, Admiral Renatus was both cursing the Novajev for taking this action, and herself for making what she saw as a major tactical mistake. Ninth Fleet was not a large one in relation to the Kilrany Imperial Navy, it was meant to defend their national waters and she had never expected the Novajev to actually open fire on them, but I should have, especially after that damned alert this morning and the incident between them and the Diggledom. It suddenly reminded her of something someone had said once, ‘ships, battles, and wars have been lost because an enemy no one expected to fight did,’ and while she knew the Novajev could not win a war against Kilrany, she was going to lose ships, and that thought pissed her off.

Rossi could feel the ship turning itself to port, towards the West as much as he could see it happening through the bridge windscreen, and while he didn’t know exactly why, he could make an educated guess. He could see one of the Sovremenny class destroyers, which one he couldn’t be sure of doing the same thing in their rough line formation some one hundred meters off the bow, which seemed to confirm his suspicion.

Missile swarms and concentrated defenses, while not tactically innovative and clever, were the reality of modern naval warfare. It reminded him of the early years of world war one with its massed frontal assaults, it was now a war of attrition, there was no flanking the enemy, no hiding behind a hill on the open sea, not even the flaunted stealth systems could help here against a technologically equivalent opponent who could easily burn away that protective cloak of invisibility. However unlike the fields of battle in Europe so long ago, here there would be no tactical or technological innovations to change the war, they had already come and made this particular type of warfare all that more deadly, for the here and now your only hope was to do more damage to the enemy then he could to you, that was just how it was, that simple, and that utterly frustrating.

He could see the KIAM variants of Kashtan-M systems going to work on the Sovremenny to their front, their twin multi-barreled thirty millimeter guns roared to life, spiting out their one hundred and sixty-four millimeter long high explosive fragmentation shells at the enemy. He could even feel the starboard array of them on the Fiery Dawn firing away in conjunction with the ship’s secondary guns, pounding out their own larger air bursting shells.

He glanced to his right for a moment out the starboard windscreen and immediately regretted the decision, the air to the North of the ship was filled with superheated thirty military rounds easily visible in the early morning sky mixed with the puffing explosions of the air bursting rounds as the Novajev missiles’ guidance systems continued in with complete disregard for their safety. All along the way he knew the battle of the black boxes was raging, as the Kilrany ships filled the air with jamming signals and decoys the missiles would respond with their own counter-countermeasures to burn through the false targets.

A sudden explosion to his front immediately drew his attention to a large plume of smoke and flame a scant two hundred meters to the North of the Sovremenny to their front. He let out a quick jubilant expression of success mentally but that disappeared a moment later when another of the Novajev missiles streaked in, homing right in on one of the very Kashtan systems trying to kill it.

The three hundred kilogram, semi-armour piercing high explosive warhead smashed through the center of the relatively fragile Kashtan like a sabot round punching through the exposed flank of an armoured personnel carrier, only to detonate a fraction of a second later behind it and against the superstructure of the ship. Rossi recoiled slightly on instincts as the massive explosion ripped apart the side of the Sovremenny. While Kilrany vessels were significantly up armoured over their original designs, this only helped their protection against gun caliber weapons similar to what they carried and was of no real use against these supersonic killers.

But that would not be all for this large destroyer to their front, a second missile sped by through the combined defenses of the small fleet and impacted farther forward on the ship. Initially he couldn’t see where exactly, but he knew it was bad; the missile had struck the side of the hull a meter and a half above the water line and a scant meter behind where the forward AK-130 was mounted. There was an almost cataclysmic explosion as the three hundred kilogram warhead detonated inside the hull, which alone was bad enough but set off the ship’s forward magazine for their one hundred and thirty millimeter shells, the force of the explosion created a massive whole in the ship like a giant sea monster had risen from the depths and taken a gaping bite out of it, nearly disconnecting the bow from the rest of the ship. Water was quick to begin rushing in to the forward spaces of the ship, if not for the sealed watertight doors it would have no doubt ran itself immediately under the water as its propellers continued forwards.

The Sovremenny was far from the only ship to be hit, but it was initially the only one Rossi could see. Farther astern of the Fiery Dawn, one of the Eastern most Neustrashimy class frigates took an impact on the forward superstructure just above deck and below the ship’s bridge. The massive explosion eviscerated the entire forward superstructure, obliterating any sign there had once even been a bridge on the frigate.

Despite the tremendous amount of ordnance being expended to kill the incoming missiles; each ship firing off their MRADMs, then their modified 9M311-1Ms and the near constant roar of the twin six barreled guns of their Kashtan-Ms as they expended thousands of rounds of ammunition, only falling silent for a few seconds to track their new target, more of the Novajev missiles found homes. As a large and primary target, the next missile hit was on Ninth Fleet’s Kirov class missile cruiser, and it would not be alone.

The first SS-N-22 impacted the mighty cruiser just above the deck near the base of its large central mast, at over mach two the three thousand nine hundred kilogram missile punched through the armoured plating of the superstructure and its three hundred kilogram warhead detonated inside the large mast. Torn asunder from the inside out the once solid mast collapsed to the deck of the ship like a building being demolished by presicely placed explosives. A second missile found a home in the hull just above the water line dangerously close to one of the Kirov’s nuclear reactors. A third and final missile impacted the hull two meters above the water line just forward of where the first missile had struck, almost directly below the ship’s bridge. Crippled and taking on water the grand Kirov began to list heavily to starboard as its crew raced to conduct damage control and carry out the emergency shut down of the ship’s multiple nuclear reactors.

Not even Rossi’s own ship, the massive Poseiden class called the Fiery Dawn escaped a missile strike even as its five starboard mounted auxiliary guns and Kashtan systems filled the sky with explosive shells and fragmentation. He felt the strike more then he saw it, somewhere on the starboard side of the ship a SS-N-22 had impacted dead center on one of the auxiliary twin gun turrets and detonated, taking the turret and a pair of nearby Kashtan systems with it, the heavily armoured hull of the ship protecting the crew in the superstructure from the high velocity metallic fragments.

Back down in the Fiery Dawn’s CIC, Admiral Renatus was watching the events unfold in on the primary display, which was already telling her as much as one could have seen above deck. Several of the icons representing Kilrany ships in her fleet were blinking, which in turn meant to her that the ships were still there, but the data-link that connected their radar signals had been severed, meaning they had most likely taken heavy damage. She herself had felt the hit to her own flagship just moments before and she almost snarled in contempt at the Novajev.

There was little more she could do at this point, while she was the commander of the fleet, Captain Tszyu was commander of this ship, and as much as she may have felt the desire to micro manage her ships and commanders like some sort of virtual game, it was not how things worked. She had issued her orders to the fleet and it was up to the individual commanders to carry them out as best they could.

-----

While the Kilrany ships were taking heavy damage from the Novajev missile strike and they were taking their toll, the Kilrany missile strike was being absolutely devastating to the Novajev farther to the North. While roughly numerically even with the Kilrany, the Novajev ships were of significantly smaller class vessels and were far less capable of defending themselves en masse, or taking any hits whatsoever well with their largest ship being a single Neustrashimy class frigate.

Captain Lepp would never get to have an opportunity to find out why Soutine had chosen to fire his missiles, the commander’s smaller Pauk class ship had taken a direct hit from one of the Kilrany SS-N-26s. Too small both structurally and crew wise to support a proper CIC, the Pauk class had to be commanded from the bridge where Soutine had died, his head removed by a large piece of shrapnel. Lepp himself wouldn’t get a chance to explain things to Admiral Ekster in turn either, a Kilrany SS-N-26 had penetrated through the hull of the frigate and the two hundred and fifty kilogram warhead had detonated a mere deck over the ship’s CIC.

A scant fifteen kilometers North of the Novajev navy, Admiral Ekster arrived outside the Novajev government building, which held an entrance to the underground bunker. His home in Anjukov just under a kilometer away, he had chosen to walk the short distance that normally took him five to ten minutes to travel with a light escort this morning. It was a decision he would quickly regret, despite the fact there had been little he could have done.

Moments later he was down in the bunker’s command room and filled with rage after having been informed of the missile exchange. The entire incident, starting with the four missiles detected on the South, followed my Soutine launching his missile and the entire missile exchange that had resulted in hundred of deaths and the destruction or crippling of over twelve ships, Kilrany and Novajev alike, had taken less then five minutes, less time then it had taken for him to walk here.

“Get me Lieutenant commander Bandura now.”

-----

Corporal Sergei Sychev was tense as he stood next to the main gate of the Kilrany embassy to Novajev, located in their capitol city of Anjukov. The last few days had been uneventful for the embassy staff but there had been an undercurrent of worry relating to the entire situation. This was especially heightened for them after the Diggledom attack on the Northeast and the threats over the phone to the ambassador from Admiral Ekster.

Sychev was one soldier of a twelve-man infantry section assigned to the small embassy as security, which before this incident had always felt entirely unnecessary. He was fully armed and equipped as a Kilrany infantryman, wearing his body armour and carrying his AK-74M assault rifle, which current half hung by its tactical sling. In spite of this though he had no desire to be where he was, quietly wishing to himself that the ambassador had chosen to leave with the majority of the foreign civilian population, but no harm was expected to them in this situation.

While the city around the embassy was by no means silent, Sychev could hear the occasional car engine and light armoured vehicle moving, a new noise caught his attention above the rest. It was heavier then the other engine noises, drowning them out and it was accompanied by the clattering of steel on concrete. He recognized it quickly from earlier in the weak as being the noise he associated with the BTR-T the Novajev had. Having no knowledge of the incident farther South between their two navies, he was left to speculate why they were moving back into the city.

He wouldn’t have to wait long before he found the answer to his question as one of the BTR-Ts came around a corner on a street some hundred meters out from the entrance, quickly followed by its dismounted infantry moving along side it and the street. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity for a moment before that was quickly replaced with a look of ‘oh shit’ when several of the dismounts raise their weapons to aim at him.

Spinning on the ball of his right foot he kicked off from the ground and dove behind the embassy’s outer stone wall as a series of 5.56mm rounds impacted around where he had been standing. Pushing himself off the ground he used the heavy stonewall as cover and leaned around it, squeezing off a series of rounds back at the Novajev soldiers, one of which caught one in the chest. He didn’t have time to figure out it if hat been a penetrating shot or not as the Novajev weren’t after him, which was clearly displayed when the BTR-T opened up on his position with its thirty millimeter cannon, ending his life.

-----

Private Robert Benois rounded the Northwest corner of the embassy’s building just in time to see Sychev’s position take a burst of thirty millimeter at the entrance on the North. He cursed loudly and jogged towards the West side of the gate, a short distance given the relatively small size of the embassy grounds, and tossed a hand grenade over the wall down the street towards the dismounts he was certain would be near the armoured vehicle he could hear. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard several shouts a second before the grenade detonated, though he didn’t risk poking his head out to see.

A loud crash to the East of the compound drew his attention, looking over he could see the outer wall bulge inward as another BTR-T smashed into it in an attempt to create an opening. It’s dismounts however took advantage of this regardless and climbed on top of the vehicle to get over the wall. He raised his rifle and squeezed off several aimed and controlled bursts on full automatic from his AK-74M, his first target crumpled to the ground as he came over the wall.

Rather then stay where he was and attempt to fire more rounds at the Novajev coming over the wall he sprinted back to the Northwest corner of the embassy and away from his previously exposed position, a burst from a Minimi nearly catching him in his side. Several rounds impacted the corner where he remained for just a moment, first tossing another grenade and firing a blind burst to make them think he was staying there before he sprinted off again to the Southwest corner.

Quickly rounding the Southwest corner he continued to run along the South of the building, hoping to get inside through the back door before the Novajev mercenary soldiers figured out he was no longer at the other corner. He was halfway to the back door when one of the Novajev rounded the Southeast corner, they both saw each other at the same time, raised their weapons at the same time, fired on full automatic at the same time and both died at nearly the same time. It was an unfortunate fact that both men happened to be Kilrany citizens.

-----

Ambassador Barere woke with a start from his bed to the sounds of gunfire and the rumble of armoured vehicles, the Kilrany Kalashnikovs mixing with the Novajev M4s. Initially confused as to what was going on, it quickly dawned on him that the embassy was under attack to which he reacted as fast he could having just woken up.

Opening a drawer next to his bed he pulled free a GSh-18 and one of the eighteen round clips next to it, which he promptly loaded and readied to fire. That done he nearly jumped out of bed, dressed only in a T-shirt and shorts, he ran over to the far wall of his room and quickly turned the dial on his wall safe. Imputing the right combination he opened it up to reveal a second smaller door, which held a keypad to which he typed in another code.

By this time he could tell by the sound of gunfire that their attackers were inside the building, he also knew that the handful of Kilrany infantry could only hold them back so long. Opening up the second part of the safe only slightly, he then typed in another code on the keypad that would activate a small incendiary device that would flash burn the documents inside. He could hear the heavy footfalls of soldiers running in the corridor outside his room as he hit the enter key, starting a ten second count down before he moved quickly away from the safe towards the other side of the room.

Half way over the door to his room splintered open and knowing they wouldn’t be friendly he begin squeezing off round after round at the door with the special armour piercing rounds of his pistol. In the darkness he couldn’t tell if he hit someone but return fire was quick in coming, the Novajev soldiers obviously now unwilling to risk their lives to take the unexpectedly armed man alive. Several loud thunderous reports echoed out as a soldier armed with a shotgun fired off at the ambassador. One of the rounds caught Barere in his ribcage just below his raised right arm and he slammed down to the floor.

As several of the mercenaries stormed into the room to secure it, the incendiary device activated and the interior of the safe, partially opened to allow air in, flashed burned its contents in a miniscule firestorm.

Diplomatic communique

To: Pavel Kasatikin
From: Amanda Ethridge

Message:
First let me start this message with our deepest regrets for the loss of life that has occurred in the waters around Novajev, our satellites picked up the aftermath of the battle on one of their wider sweeps. We apologise that our satellites weren’t in position to obtain more information on the launch points. Our Emperor on receiving the news of the unprovoked Novajev attack has pledged to send any aid that you may require and that we will support any action that you decide to take with the Island.

As to the original purpose of this missive, we extend our thanks to your nation and specifically your Navy for their brave and selfless daring rescue of our submariners. After the present conflict is over the Diggledom Navy was wondering if your Nation would object to medals being presented to various of the Kilrany involved in the rescue operation? We look forward to your reply.

http://spaam.mrdrake.net/flags/delesa.png >< http://spaam.mrdrake.net/flags/kilrany.png

To Pavel Kasatikin, The Empire of Kilrany
From Minister Chase Surreal, The United Commonwealth of Delesa

The United Commonwealth can no longer turn a blind eye to the events unfolding in this region. The Empire of Kilrany has the United Commonwealth's full support in it's operations against the aggressor, Novajev. At this point in time, with the Kilrany now have being fired upon and a state of war now existing, the King would like to offer the Emperor assistance in the conquest of this new foe.

The situation has been presented to the Defense Board, and is under investigation, and pending acceptance of active participation. But as it stands at this moment, the 5th Battle Group had been assembled at it's home port, supplying and re-equipping the necessary vehicles and vessels required for a combat role.

Only upon request by the Kilrany government and orders from the Defense board will the fleet move out when deemed fully ready by it's commanding officers. As local stores and supplies stand, the fleet shall be ready in a weeks time.

May our two nations be able once again cooperate and fight together for the common good.

Awaiting your response;
*Signed*
Minister Chase Surreal, Foreign Affairs
*Signed*
Prime Minister Lester Geddie

Both diplomatic messages from the Diggledom and Delesian governments had been received by the Kilrany at roughly the same time, despite this however a response to either would be delayed several hours. This was not done due to any ill will towards the two governments but as a direct result of Pavel Kasatikin’s lack of orders. The entire engagement had caught the Kilrany off guard, not even 5th Division had anticipated the attack.

It was about two hours after the missile exchange within Emperor Sviatov’s private office in the Imperial Palace; the setting was almost identical to the night before when the Diggledom had initiated their attack on Novajev. The differences were however quite noticeable as the previously relaxed of the officers was replaced with one of tension and Emperor Sviatov sat in his chair behind his desk, a clearly unhappy look on his face.

“What’s the final tally?”

The Emperor’s questions was answered by the naval officer present, one Admiral Mark Svidler, “As it stands right now from Renatus’ last report about twenty minutes ago, three hundred and six men are confirmed dead, sixty seven wounded and forty seven currently missing in action, believed dead.”

There was a moment of silence before Svidler continued, “Damage reports are not good sir, repair ships and tugs are now on station attempting to provide assistance, but the outlook is not good for the Vidin.” Here Svidler referred to the Kirov class, “She took heavy damage to her upper works and they indicate potential damage to one of her reactors. However they were able to perform a successful emergency shut down on both and they are currently operating on emergency power. They fear that they may have to abandon the ship; she’s apparently listing heavily to one side due to flooding and is in danger of capsizing. Right now they’re trying to stabilize her. They give me fifty-fifty odds of saving her.”

Several of the other military officers cursed under their breath, knowing that the Vidin was a Kirov class, which was a relatively large ship in the Kilrany navy, they knew it would have taken several substantial hits to do the kind of damage indicated.

Svidler would have added his own curse but instead moved on to the Sovremenny class destroyer, “We’re also in danger of losing the Hunter, she took a hit to her forward magazine and has taken in a lot of water, which is only exasperating the damage to her forward hull. They do however believe they have a very good chance of saving her.”

“The Baskan, Arad and the Fiery Dawn took damage as well,” this time he referred to two Neustrashimy class frigates and the flagship of the small fleet, “Though serious, the damage they took had not affected their seaworthiness and are still operating under their own power. The Baskan however is not combat capable at this time and is on it’s way back to port ahead of the rest, Renatus is keeping her combat ready ships on station until the status of the damaged ships is dealt with before returning to port as well. She was rather clear in her assessment that Ninth is not a good choice for an attack on Novajev at this time.”

Emperor Sviatov spoke up a moment later addressing one of the 5th Division officers; “I presume you have assets on route as we speak, yes?”

The black clad soldier gave a light nod of his head, “Two Serpents are in route as we speak. There is some concern that they will be expecting us, and they seem to be spreading their forces out across the island in an apparent attempt to decentralize their forces and make it harder to track them. Novajev still retains more then enough dense terrain to hide in, which will help our teams as much as their mercenaries.”

The Admiral spoke up once more, “What is their tasking?”

“Each Serpent will deploy two teams on the East and West of the island, which in turn will be their areas of operations. They will conduct reconnaissance of the island and attempt to locate any further land based anti-ship missile launch systems, emphasis has been placed on remaining unseen until a landing. However, Admiral, it is requested that a naval force be on station by this evening when they land, we would appreciate fire support should it come to that.”

“Several fleets are currently on standby, have been since the initial mercenary landing. Your highness, should we be prepared to land forces or simply provide support?”

“Landing.”

“Then I suggest we deploy Relentless, their damage and losses have since been replaced and they’ve had several months worth of leave. They have the most experience for this type of operation.”

“Very well then, issue the deployment order immediately, I want then on station as 5th Division requests.”

“Yes sir.”

Before the Admiral would leave however the Emperor had one more thing to add, “General, how hard will it be to take and hold air superiority over Novajev?”

The Air Force General considered the question a moment, “Their current air defense network, while damaged by the surprise attack by the Diggledom is still covering the island and is enough of a threat that they can deny us any immediate air superiority. Even if we were able to neutralize all their medium range missiles, they could still prevent close air support. The difficulty in this however is directly related to how much we want to limit collateral damage.”

And there in lay the problem, while the Kilrany were not known for being terribly conscientious when it came to collateral damage in combat, there were civilians still on Novajev from all over the SFR, including those from Russkya and Kilrany herself. Sviatov had no desire to cause problems with any of his allies now kill any of his own citizens if he could avoid it, but Kilrany were a people often demanded vengeance.

“I would rather limit collateral damage but I have no intention of putting their lives above those of our soldiers. Bring me that bastard Admiral’s head.”

-----

Five hours after the missile engagement Kasatikin finally got instructions on the manner he was to reply to both the Diggledom and the Delesian government. Both messages ended up being nearly identical in wording, the only real difference in them being the name on the address.

Kasatikin was little concerned with his wording as he wrote them, the orders he had received left little room for leeway. The Emperor clear was appreciative that friends and allies were willing to come to the aid of the Kilrany in a time of need, but concerned that large foreign fleets might aggravate some of their neighbors.

Sealed Diplomatic Communiqué

To: Amanda Ethridge

On behalf of Emperor Sviatov I thank you for your concern, support and offer of aid, it is a clear illustration of the quality of friends we have managed to acquire internationally. I am authorized to inform you that military response to the attack as been ordered and we intend to safeguard foreign civilians trapped under what has now become an obviously hostile regime.

Your offer of aid is duly accepted, however we would remind you that Novajev is an island barely forty square kilometers in size with a population fewer than twenty thousand and their navy has been neutralized. This combined with the fact that we do not wish to aggravate our neighbors; we would ask that any support you send me tempered in their size.

In regards to your inquiry about medals, we have no objections to your desire to recognize the actions of our military personnel.

Kilrany Foreign Affairs Minister
Pavel Kasatikin

-----

Sealed Diplomatic Communiqué

To: Minister Chase Surreal

On behalf of Emperor Sviatov I thank you for your concern, support and offer of aid, it is a clear illustration of the quality of friends we have managed to acquire internationally. I am authorized to inform you that military response to the attack as been ordered and we intend to safeguard foreign civilians trapped under what has now become an obviously hostile regime.

Your offer of aid is duly accepted, however we would remind you that Novajev is an island barely forty square kilometers in size with a population fewer than twenty thousand and their navy has been neutralized. This combined with the fact that we do not wish to aggravate our neighbors; we would ask that any support you send me tempered in their size.

Kilrany Foreign Affairs Minister
Pavel Kasatikin

OOC: Crappy little post but I suck at diplomacy, heh

[FONT="Book Antiqua"]Diplomatic communique

To: Pavel Kasatikin
From: Amanda Ethridge

Message:

We will dispatch a small fleet and supporting ships, carrying a mixed spetznaz unit. We will have to put this unit together and then transport them to the area so a break of somewhere around seven (7) days. If you have no objection then after this incident the two groups of Diggledom forces will combine and make their way back to Diggledom ports.

[/FONT="Book Antiqua"]

The orders came through, and the fleet was now assembled, the Loyal Edmonton Tank Regiment was attached to the convoy ready and eager to take to the beaches. The snow had just begun to fall as the fleet slowly made their way out. The snow made a thin layer on top of the water, the ships made little cuts on their way out of the harbor.

Vice-Admiral Sarah Conrad was in command of the Delesian Fleet; she was the first and only woman in that position and that kind of power. Every woman in the Delesian Navy looked up to her, she was an ideal. And now she was in command of the largest Commonwealth commitment to Kilrany and the conflict in Novajev.

She sipped the tea while she read over the newspaper from St.Myhre. She was worried about the new public disturbances. But then she grinned; she was in command of the largest combat fleet Delesa had assembled since the Kreatvye war.

On a tarmac back at the Edmonton Garrison, large C-5 aircraft sat, awaiting the paratroopers from the 5th Airborne. When the fleet passed a predetermined location the troopers would load up. By the time the fleet was in position to launch their naval assault on the shores, the aircraft loaded with their deadly treat would pass overtop. The cover of darkness would hopefully cover most of the traffic up. The airborne would jump, fighting to secure the beachhead, and the roads inland. Then when the sun rose to provide a little light, the LETR would launch their assault. The two forces would then meet up and combine pushing inland collecting the remaining airborne troopers and continue the fight pushing any opposition out of their way. The combined force, under Brigadier-General Jacob Wolfe would then proceed to secure an airstrip for which point the commonwealth could fly in supplies and set up a more secure line of communications. Possibly depending on casualty rates the 5th Airborne and or LETR could be pulled out and replaced quicker then sailing them out.

The task force comprised of the HMDS. Refuge a Nimtz class aircraft carrier, the fighters also to be committed to the beach assault and support until an airport was captured, from which point a fighter wing from the Commonwealth would be flown in to take over the combat support mission. The Refuge was protected by the HMDS. Independent and Sovereign (Halifax Class frigates), HMDS. Constant and Loyal (SSN Astute Class submarines), HMDS. Provider (Fort Victoria Class Replenishment ship), HMDS. Seeker (Nansen Class anti-submarine warfare frigate), HMDS. Principle and Tribute (Duke Class frigates) and various transport and amphibious assault vessels. Each ship modified from it’s original blueprints to the requirements and updates of the Royal Delesian Navy. Including better weapon systems built on homeland, different tubes for Delesian made and designed torpedoes. Many ships in fact resembled nothing of it’s original plans but a newer more advanced beast tamed and control by the Commonwealth ready to unleash hell upon those who opposed that which the Commonwealth and it’s people stand for.

There was a knock at the door. She looked up and the metal door opened. The XO of the carrier stepped through. He crisply saluted her.

“Ma’am the captain told me to inform you that the fleet has left the harbor and is now making best speed on the proper course. We should be there in a day and a half at best speed.” She smiled and nodded.

“Good good. But we will not make it in that time. I have already made the proper calculations for the drills I have in mind and we will arrive in two full days time, not one. Inform the captain, I will be up soon to discuss my plans with him.”

“Aye ma’am.” He saluted again and left the room closing the door gently. Admiral Conrad continued her reading and when she finished her tea he stood up and left for the bridge, the sound of jet engines echoing through out the ship.

As was typical of Kilrany diplomatic messages, the reply to the Diggledom was short and to the point, for the Kilrany had little care for diplomatic flair, preferring a more direct and to the point approach to diplomacy. This hadn’t always served them well, but it was their style.

Sealed Diplomatic Communiqué

To: Amanda Ethridge

After consultation with the Emperor and his military staff I have been informed that we have no objection to your proposal and look forward to your assistance. Be advised however that operations are under way by our forces and request discretion in your actions.

Kilrany Foreign Affairs Minister
Pavel Kasatikin

-----

Oblivious to events transpiring throughout the day, the two KIAM Type 18 Serpents had made their way quietly towards Novajev, and by evening around 2000 hours they were both in position to unload their passengers, one to the Northwest of the island and the to the Southeast. A relatively small submarine the Serpent was specially designed for covert operations, modeled initially after the German U214, its small size and non-nuclear powered propulsion made it ideal for operating close to coastlines.

Inside one such craft to the East of Novajev, Nikolai was preparing to leave the relative safety of the submarine to conduct an ordered mission on the small nearby island. One of the 5th Division combat operatives he already had his dry suit covering over his Gorka-S uniform and an equally waterproof cover over his combat boots like the rest of his unit as he packed the last of his equipment into one of his dry bags. Through his peripheral vision he could easily see his comrades finishing up as he did so as well.

Only a few minutes after they had finished packing the last of their gear into the dry bags and attached them to the clips on their shoulder and thighs, they received word that they were in position. Donning the last of their swim kit, which included a facemask, small oxygen tank and a diving knife, the first eight men, which included Nikolai, moved towards the divers chamber, which was just large enough to accommodate the eight operators, though the exit hatch was significantly smaller.

Despite the fact that these men were trained for infiltration by sea as this mission called for, it was not the preferred method of infiltration for 5th Division, mostly because it relied on the navy to get them close, and 5th Division’s trust extended little beyond the Imperial Guard, as limited as that was in and of itself. Closing the chamber door behind them it was quickly allowed to flood with water, at which point the outer hatch was opened and the operative holding a deflated raft was the first one out where he quickly pulled on a small cord and activated a compressed air charge.

The submarine was holding its position a scant five meters below the surface of the water, measuring off from the top of the conning tower, leaving the swim to the surface a rather short one. As the last one out, Nikolai gave the outer hatch a shove from atop the hull of the submarine, closing the hatch behind them so the second team could exit a few moments behind them. The simple threat of remaining Novajev radar systems meant that the submarine couldn’t simply surface and offload in the easier manner.

Half the soldiers in his team were already inside the raft as Nikolai broke through the surface of the water where he quickly took note of weather conditions, a partly cloudy sky and a light wind created some small waves, but nothing truly substantial on this summer evening. As with being the last one out of the submarine, Nikolai was also the last one in the raft, where four of his comrades had already detached the oars and were waiting for him before making for land a kilometer away. The heavier gear they needed to carry for a long-term reconnaissance operation had prohibited the thought of simply swimming ashore.

While they were certain that the Novajev were fully expecting special forces to land at this point, they knew that they only had two battalions worth of combat infantry, not counting their support personnel, such as cooks, logistics staff, artillery men and air defense crews, the exact numbers of all not entirely known after the attack by the Diggledom. They also knew that these mercenaries had over eighty kilometers of coastline, along with nearly one hundred and eighty square kilometers of ground to watch, their small units had the advantage in stealth.

They came ashore near a forest between the towns of Kharovo and Bykhov, unlike previously, Nikolai was one of the first one’s off the raft and unto the beach, now having his weapon in hand, a KIAM modified AS Val with a BS-1 Tishina attached, he helped cover the area while the four who had been rowing pulled the raft ashore and towards the tree line. Within the concealment of forest they all removed their dry suits and retrieved the full extent of their gear from their dry bags. Several additional minutes were expended burying the now deflated raft and their swimming gear before they formed up and prepared to move out.

They weren’t waiting for the second team; they didn’t need to, as they were to be operating independently, Nikolai’s team assigned to head father North. Outfitted like the other three teams, the weapons of choice were all specially suppressed weapons. Six of them carried an AS Val, some with the BS-1 Tishina attached, one carried a VSS Vintorez and the last carried a VSSK Vychlop. Should additional firepower be required, four of them carried a disposable RGP-27, one with a Thermobaric warhead, the weight of their preferred weapon of choice, the RPG-7V prohibited its use in this situation.

-----

It had taken the better part of the day for the Kilrany fleet referred to as Taskforce Relentless, one of three amphibious warfare groups to reach a point some one hundred kilometers East of Novajev. They had figuratively burned a hole in the water as they steamed North through the Zuiderzee Strait at top speed from the Kilrany naval facility of Trinaga in the Southeast. Proximity of their area of operation meant their support ships could come from smaller Northern naval facilities then come with them from the South.

At the heart of the fleet was the KIN Relentless, a KIAM designed and produced Vengeance class fleet carrier, one of only three such carries in active service with the Kilrany Imperial Navy. Similar in outward appearance to the American Nimitz and the canceled Russian Project 1143.7 if only slightly larger, like the Poseiden class, it was designed with fleet command in mind.

In command of the large force of Kilrany naval vessels was Fleet Admiral Anna Roerich; she had commanded the same fleet through several engagements during the FLRJ civil some time before. For the time being her orders were to remain out of range of the Novajev air defense sites until the 5th Division teams could confirm or deny the presence of any further SS-N-26 launch sites, or any other surprises the Novajev may have in store.

Farther to the Southwest, a pair of KIAM modeled Tu-95s reconfigured for electronic warfare flew at high altitude just inside Kilrany national waters, well outside the range of the Novajev air defenses. From this position they started singling out the communications frequencies in use by the Novajev and began sending out their own signals in order to jam them. At the same time on civilian bands they began to transmit a recorded message, in which the Kilrany called for the mercenaries to surrender now and be allowed to return safely to their countries of origin.

OOC: Bump and slight information update

Tatiana carefully scanned the steeply climbing land before her as she slowly led the eight man section up the hill from their landing point near hill ninety-one at grid reference delta-zero, her night vision goggles providing excellent visibility in the dark of the night. Like the rest of the 5th Division combat section, she wore a flora patterned Gorka-S style uniform, her face concealed behind a fabric cover; their weapons were a mix of the same weapons carried by one of their comrade sections that landed on the South. She carried one of the KIAM modified AS Val integrally suppressed assault rifles with a BS-1 Tishina under barrel grenade launcher, to supplementing her rifle, she had attached a variant of the PSO-1 optic to the weapons upper rail.

While not the section leader of this small combat unit, she had been assigned to the point man position, this didn’t bother her however, what did bother her, and the other soldiers of the unit, was having to trudge up the steep hills of Northern Novajev with their heavy bergens, though in truth it was only a mild annoyance. Despite having their personal role radios and throat microphones, they didn’t use them for the time being, instead relying on hand signals in case the Novajev had the ability to track the wireless signals and betray their presence on the island.

The light crunch of loose stones barely reached her ears as she continued to lead them off on an almost due South direction, the Northern mountain range of Novajev was a mix of light brush and rocky ground that offered the unit less cover then they would have liked. While they kept an eye open for patrols and observation points, they knew the Novajev only had five hundred some odd combat personnel on the West coast of the island, not enough to properly watch every field and thicket in their area of operations.

Their progress was slow, but deliberately so, unsurprisingly it took them nearly two hours to travel four kilometers to a point just North of hill two-six-nine. Still on the North side of the road some twenty meters from it, Tatiana was down on one knee next to a string of bushes, while she couldn’t see the towns themselves, she could see the lights of both Volkova and Korovask to their Southwest and East. She scanned the road to her left and right, able to catch glimpses of her comrades who had spread out into a line in preparation to cross the small road.

A few hand signals later and the force began to cross the road in pairs, Tatiana would be in the last group and she covered the rest, her weapon at the ready until eventually they were all across but her and one other. Keeping low, she and her comrade, the soldier carrying the VSS, sprinted across the forty meters of open ground from their concealment in the bushes, over the road and into some more bushes, covered by those already across. Reforming here into a staggered line, she led off once more down the hill towards a large forest West of hill two-six-seven where they would ‘camp out’ for their first night, having encountered nothing of significance for far, she was unsure whether this was a good thing or not.

-----

Nearly twenty kilometers to the South of Novajev, another, much larger Kilrany submarine was slowly approaching its own objective from below the wave, a larger, KIAM derivative of the Russian project 940 ‘Lenok’ class submarine. At its command was Captain Paul Lukich, a veteran officer of some fourteen years of service in the Kilrany Imperial Navy.

Dispatched at the same time as the smaller covert operation submarines from Trinaga, the KIN Valana was also operating under the orders and authority of 5th Division. While the crew and the submarine were of the Kilrany Imperial Navy, several 5th Division personnel were on board the vessel to oversee the operations of their current mission. That mission being to examine the Diggledom nuclear attack submarine that had been sunk in the relatively shallow waters off the coast of Novajev. Caution was however at the for front of their operation as they were unsure as to the status of the wreck’s nuclear reactor, time they didn’t feel was against them however as given the hostilities still ongoing, a surface salvage operation could not be conducted until after the situation on Novajev was concluded.

To: Pavel Kasatikin
From: Amanda Ethridge

Message:

The force has been successfully dispatched and should be arriving within one (1) day. The ORBAT for the reinforced fleet is as follows;
2 Ivan Rogov Class Large Landing Ships -
2 Kuznetsov Class Heavy Aircraft Carrying Cruiser - Guryev
4 Kirov Class heavy Missile Cruisers - Bobruisk,
8 Neustrashimy Class Frigates
8 Sovremenny Class Destroyers

All the Diggledom fleet that is presently on station and no longer needed will be tasked with returning the two Ivan Rogov Landing Ships to Diggledom. Their onboard troops could be used to more effect in Diggledom. The spetznaz unit that is onboard has been designed specifically for the Novajev conflict. Their ORBAT is as follows.
1 Motorized Infantry Company: 318 Men
1 Admin Company: 507 Men
1 Support Company: 261 Men
1 Light Air Defense Battery: 205 Men
1 Light Self Propelled Artillery Battery: 149 Men
1 Zulu Squadron: 104 Men
This gives total force strength of 1544 men. They will be used only on Novajev itself, both as an initial invasion force and as a peacekeeping force if they are needed. Several Naval Spetznaz are onboard and will be used for the initial reconnaissance. Are there any missions that you would like us to do? Or any area’s that are out of bounds for the Diggledom forces?

Yours Sincerely,
Amanda Ethridge

HMS Clement

Moore quietly massaged his temples with his eyes closed as he listened to his ASDIC operator. For some time his submarine had been quietly patrolling the depths off the Novajev coast, initially off Bitarjev where Oceanian special forces had landed, but the arrival of the Diggledom fleet had forced Moore to move silently northwards. "Bloody hell," he muttered to nobody in particular.

"Excuse me, sir?" the lieutenant inquired politely.

Opening up and looking square at the lieutenant Moore sighed. "Nothing, lieutenant." He let his hand run across the stubble covering his face. He could not recall the last time he had taken the time to shave. He waited until the officer finished his report and then took the printed version. While he had no concrete information on the size and relative strength of the Novajev Navy, Moore doubted much could be left save a few patrol craft on the far side of the island. Perhaps some diesel submarines and shore facilities. The eastern waters had been seemingly cleansed.

Moore glanced up at the digital clock. He offered a poor smile to the crew present. "High tea back home, folks." The crew smiled back and a few feigned laughs. Moore returned to himself and rolled his fingers inside his fist. "Very well," he spoke quietly, loud enough for only his executive officer to hear. The younger man pretended not to notice. "Alright, XO, take us up to communications depth."

"Aye, captain. Diving officer, bring us to ESM depth and make ready the ESM mast."

Quietly and slowly, the Royal Navy submarine rose near the surface, still some metres below–but enough to make Moore nervous. He had heard plenty of ASW helicopters since landing Rodney's team ashore. Eventually the ESM mast poked its head up and listened. To the distant south the receivers detected both search and fire-control radars. For the first time since he could remember, Moore found nothing of which he should be imminently concerned. "Raise communications mast," he calmly ordered.

Another moment later and another mast appeared. Invisible to all, a small and encrypted burst transmission flew off to relays and digital switches. Near instantaneously the packet arrived in Devonport and was quickly decoded, the data parsed and sent off to the appropriate departments.

Ashore

Rodney scratched his head. He was at a loss to figure out what exactly had been happening on the island since his arrival. Fortuitously his team had not yet been detected–though he had done very little to draw attention. They had moved quickly and quietly into the woods just north of Chilkov and a bit further south of Bitarjev. They had managed to observe both the sporadic patrols of the BTRs along the main road and the foot patrols through the forests amongst which Rodney had hidden his unit.

Sometime ago, however, from their position north of Chilkov, he had sounded the alarm over incoming artillery, strangely enough from the seas east of Bitarjev if his reckoning was correct. When he had left the Clement there had been no information about any hostile parties opposing the coup, at least not anybody with the capacity for shore bombardment. They had removed themselves to the tree line northwest of Chilkov from which they then observed the rapid deployment of a missile battery that fired something out to sea.

Whoever fired off the missiles knew well enough they would be targeted and raced out of the area. And sure enough, shells rained upon the area in a futile attempt to punish those responsible for launching the missiles. Unfortunately, Rodney knew neither who had fired the missiles nor what kind of missiles had even been fired. But for now, the area remained vacant and he hoped that in their rush to vacate somebody had left something valuable behind.

Positioning two men to the eastern and western ends of the forest to monitor the northern road approaches, Rodney signaled the remainder of his team to move south into the debris field, mindful of the remaining mines and any potential unexploded ordnance.

At Sea

Force N continued to steam ahead towards the Zuideerzee Strait, a loose ring formation apparent to anybody who noticed the task force with ASW helicopters and aircraft sanitising the sea ahead of the formation in conjunction with anti-submarine frigates and corvettes. At the centre of Force N, a handful of amphibious assault ships, aircraft carriers, dreadnoughts, and missile cruisers.

Sonar operator Frank Oswald sat in darkness, a green tint on his face. The room where he worked was dead quiet, the night making the room their whole world.

"I hope your not sleeping Oswald." said a voice behind him. Frank didn't bother to turn around, he know who it was.

"Of-course not Lieutenant, not me. you might want to check some of the other people in this room."

"Alright smart ass, get back to work."

"Never left." Not that there was much to do. The convoy had practically came to a halt, inching forward it seemed. One of the destroyers had an engine start on fire during a drill and now were unable to turn it up to full capacity until they got time to turn it off and repair it. "Lieutenant why don't we just stop and allow the girl to repair herself? The amount of noise she's making we won't hear an frigging nuke go off on this carrier. God we are asking to be shot at!"

"Shut your whining sailor, this is war, your going to get shot at one way or another. Admiral wants to make best time to our objective, so we do what she says."

Oswald grumbled, yes the female admiral, the only one in the fleet and she was in command of his boat. Oswald despite his age was a relic, he believed that women shouldn't serve, they weren't manly or strong enough. But little did he know the Admiral was one tough woman and could whoop his but in any kind of combat, hand to hand, rifle, even commanding this task force.

Captain Bradley Wallis, commander of the HMDS. Refuge stepped through the door.

"Lieutenant, try and raise the Kilrany, tell them we are entering the theatre of operations and require directions where to park this party."

"Aye sir, Comm officer you heard the man, send out a message requiring orders.

To Kilrany Navy Official;

Task force bravo two charlie of the United Commonwealth Royal Navy
has reached theatre of operations. Requesting reply from highest ranking
officer within range for response.

The Captain scratched his head as if trying to remember something but soon gave up and begun to walk off the bridge when he turned around in one swift movement.

"Right, tell the task force to stop, set up a perimeter. Submarines scout out ahead and maintain a larger perimeter. I want that blasted destroyer to shit down and repair it's damn engine, I swear i can hear it in my quarters, so I'm sure everyone can hear it. Wait what is the name of that boat? Damn it, I don't remember half the people on my bridge. I need to lay down." He scratched his forehead. "Lieutenant you have the helm." And he threw up his arms in frustration as he left.

OOC: Sorry for the delay, been hectic at work due to the holiday season. If I missed anyone or anything in my haste to write this, just say so in the OOC thread and it will be fixed.

Pavel Kasatikin settled in behind his desk after a filling breakfast in a small nearby café only to find a new folder before him. Another one of 5th Divisions little messages for him to read through and ‘translate’ into something more diplomatic, he grunted in amusement at that thought as the skimmed over it once, before giving it second, thorough reading.

Their reply was fairly short and too the point, setting it down he shrugged slightly to himself before he pulled over a piece of stationary and a pencil to transcribe a message to be sent back. Despite their rather brief wording and lack of detail, he was able to infer a fair amount, namely that the Diggledom fleet was not excessively large; if it had been 5th Division’s message would have amounted to a fairly straightforward, ‘bugger off’, it did not however.

Sealed Diplomatic Communiqué

To: Amanda Ethridge

Your message has been received and the information the provided list on your planned organization is acknowledged. At this time however we have no suggestions as to mission assignments at this early stage. Our only request is that you keep in mind that we have reconnaissance elements on the island and that you try not to do anything at this stage to compromise their presence. We are currently optimistic that we can achieve a relatively peaceful end by convincing the mercenary forces to disband rather then put up a hopeless fight.

Kilrany Foreign Affairs Minister
Pavel Kasatikin

-----

One hundred and thirty three meters below the surface of the water of the Zuiderzee Strait, somewhere between the Eastern most tip of Kilrany and the Northwest tip of Me’I, the KIN Ivanov sat, bottomed on the ocean floor. Captain Muratova looked up at the ceiling of her submarine’s command room; the crew instinctively maintained an air of silence as the sound of multiple heavy warships passed over their heads.

A small submarine, the Ivanov was a KIAM produced vessel similar in size and appearance to the German U214 type, as standard Kilrany Imperial Navy procedures in keeping the strait secure, they kept several submarines stations in such a manner at all times ever since the civil war in the FLRJ. With a mission length of two weeks, she and her crew would sit there on the fairly solid bottom of the strait with their six tubes pre loaded and ready to fire at any threat.

However as was the pattern thus far, no flash message was received indicating that the latest contacts moving through the strait were deemed hostile, thus the crew continued to listen and wait. Muratova didn’t like it though, not with the recent increase in traffic that they were unable to identify.

-----

Emperor Ivan Semyonovich Sviatov leaned back in the leather chair behind his desk as he reflected on the significance of a meeting with his military advisors that had just wrapped up moments before. Off to his left and behind him, Captain Grigori Hakanov stood motionless in his 1st Division uniform, an RK8 Lapinkoira with an attached reflex optic hung by a tactical sling across his chest while a soft piece of instrumental music played at low volume through a concealed speaker system.

His primary concern lay in the growing number of foreign surface combatants passing through the strait and into the Tsyentralnoye Morye, along with an unknown number of sub-surface combatants, a concern also voiced by his military officers. It had been suggested and backed by several of the officers that a preemptive strike be ordered on several forces before they reached the Morye and drive them out, however Sviatov quickly rejected that idea as too rash given the situation. He understood the reasoning behind it however as ever since the FLRJ civil war everyone with ports in the Morye, most notably themselves, Russkya and the Me’I had been taking its security to the extreme, the Kilrany most of all during the civil war itself where they had enacted a blockade of the Zuiderzee Strait to prevent further support of the Fascists.

Briefly the mental image of the Russkyan Admiralty running around screaming appeared in the Emperor’s mind, “Too many foreigners! Thin the herd, kill them all!” The comedic image brought a smile to his face. It faded though as his thoughts turned more serious in regards to the Russkyans and the Me’I, he knew the Russkyans would not act rashly either, but the Me’I were an unknown, the high density nation was difficult for 5th Division to find agents in given their primarily Asian ancestry. He did know however that they were as protective of their waters as the Kilrany were.

With all this in mind, steps had been ordered should the situation truly began to get out of hand, half of the Kilrany surface fleet was already being placed on high alert in the case of an order for a rapid sail order. The navy wasn’t the only military arm to receive orders however as several entire strategic air squadrons were now on hot seat stand-by, their aircraft loaded with a range of KIAM produced anti-shipping missiles, additionally, the routine flights by airborne early warning aircraft and armed fighters were doubled from their usual along the Kilrany coastline.

Sviatov half turned along with his chair to look at his 1st Division guardsman, “Hakanov, I would like you to contact Ambassador Foraan, I need to know where the Russkyans stand on this, I don’t need any surprises since their recent government changes.”

Captain Hakanov gave a quick nod of his head and a crisp reply before moving off towards the door, “Yes sir.”

While Sviatov knew that the recent Russkyan changes were not supposed to have had any major affect, it had been an unexpected change. Given the sheer number of naval assets passing through the strait and into the Morye, he didn’t want to take the chance of any further surprises, believing that the Russkyan ambassador would be fairly straight with him, both nations being close allies as they were.

-----

On Novajev the still night air was mostly quiet aside from the odd animal noise and the distant rumbling of patrolling wheeled armoured personnel carries as movement by the mercenary forces was reduced to light forces on patrol as they tried to keep their heavier forces hidden from prying Kilrany eyes. The farming complex just Northwest of Chilkov remained deserted from both mercenary personnel and civilians as it served little purpose to the mercenaries anymore and the civilian owner was to terrified to return with the recent turn of events.

Despite their haste in leaving the area, they had left little behind, most important documents having been stored in the command vehicle, though there were a handful of concealed fighting positions that had been used to form a defensive perimeter with several carefully placed minefields, however most of the mines had detonated in the artillery barrage that had lit up the area and left behind a number of craters.

While the artillery had damaged or destroyed most of the buildings, the farmhouse remained reasonably intact and un-mined given that it had been used as a makeshift barracks. Inside there would be little to find, having been on alert from the earlier morning attack on the air defense site, they had mostly been prepared to leave quickly. A number of trash cans held the remains of several MRE wrappers that had accumulated over the few days the mercenary forces had been there, many still had markings from the FLRJ while the rest were of Novajev origin.

Though of possible note where a few generic personal items left behind, one in particular may have caught some attention, on one table was a deck of playing cards left behind with the last hand still in play; two folded hands, a three of a kind, two pair and one somewhat unlucky fellow who had had to leave with a full house. While the presence of the cards was not unusual, the copyright and illustrations would indicate they had been purchased in Kilrany five years ago.

On a counter in the kitchen a battery operated radio sat quietly, its volume set low. It had originally been set to listen to a Germanian station, but it one turned it on now, all they would hear is a constantly repeating message spoken by a young sounding Kilrany woman who fluently changed between Russian, English and Kilrany in cycles.

“To all members of the new Novajev National Army, you are advised to arrest your senior Novajev officers and offer your surrender over an open civilian frequency to Kilrany military personnel. Do not throw your lives away unnecessary for a leadership that does not care about your well being or for money will never get to spend otherwise. Full amnesty will be given to all personnel who comply with this offer and you will be allowed to return to your countries of origin on the word of Emperor Sviatov.

This offer however is only a temporary one, if you have not complied with it by fourteen hundred hours; unrestricted military action will have been authorized on all Novajev military assets in a free fire zone covering the entirety of the island. There will be no place to hide and we will come in force. The sooner your accept this generous offer the sooner you may guarantee your safety from our fire.”

-----

Nearly six kilometers to the South of the remains of the farming complex and former launch site, in the forest to the Southeast of Khabarovsk, Nikolai was lying prone behind several bushes which he had partially moved to allow him a clear shot at the back of a mercenary soldier who was standing no more then ten meters from him. His eight man section was laid out in a rough line in cover as a twelve man section of mercenary soldiers stood far to close to them for comfort. They were far enough away from Khabarovsk and deep enough in the woods that the lights from the city did not reach them.

The small 5th Division unit had stopped here to set up a camp for the night when they had heard the patrol coming some ten minutes earlier, however just as they were to pass them by, the mercenary section leader had called for a halt and was now checking his map, using a raincoat to hide the light of his flashlight. The time seemed to drag on, they didn’t want to engage the small force both because they didn’t wish to betray their presence and it was a bad position to get into a firefight with a larger force should they not be able to take them all down quickly.

Briefly Nikolai considered that this mercenary section knew they were there and had called for reinforcements, though he quickly discounted this notion, though not completely. Still keeping his sights on one soldier in particular, he listened to their quiet conversations, low murmurs that made it difficult to make out the words, but he could hear their accents, taking at least two to be Kilrany and another to be Russkyan, he couldn’t place the other two speaking.

Another minute passed before their section leader removed the raincoat and passed it back to one of the mercenaries he had originally taken it from, his flashlight already off, which he returned to a pouch. A quick order in English and the section began to move off again towards the North.

The 5th Division unit remained in place for another minute until the sound of the mercenary section receded into the woods. Nikolai slowly came up on one knee and glanced towards his own section leader who gave a short series of hand signals, indicating they were going to move to an alternate location.

-----

In an almost identical scenario from a few days before, Admiral Roerich looked down at the primary display screen in her vessel’s CIC, contemplating the best course of action given the recent changes. As it was she had already be reinforced with the remaining undamaged ships of Ninth Fleet and another Poseiden class from the independent operations group.

Already the three Poseidens under her command were steaming Westward closer to Novajev with a screening force of four destroyers and six frigates to take up position thirty kilometers off the Eastern Novajev coast. Her primary force, which included her carrier, two Kirov class cruisers, twelve destroyers, six frigates and her amphibious assault ships were moving from their original position one hundred kilometers East of Novajev Northward to give her more maneuvering room given the influx of foreign naval warships entering the Morye. Running interference around her fleet were four Akula class attack submarines, maintaining position twenty kilometers out from the center of her force.

“Ma’am, coded message from command.”

“Read it.”

“Message received from Delesian naval task force entering the Morye requesting contact with senior Kilrany officer on scene. Their message reads as follows, ‘Task force bravo two charlie of the United Commonwealth Royal Navy has reached theatre of operations. Requesting reply from highest ranking officer within range for response’. Have not replied, we are placing this situation under your control deal with them as you see fit, they are now your responsibility.”

Wonderful, just wonderful, Roerich suppressed a sigh and replied to the communications officer, “Send an acknowledgement of the message, then send this to the Delesian task force, ‘This is Admiral Anna Roerich commanding task force Relentless, my command has placed me in charge of liaison with your forces. I suggest you hold your fleet outside a sixty kilometer range of Novajev, were are still attempting to ascertain whether or not there are further heavy anti shipping missile launch sites on the island’.”

“Will do ma’am.”

That done she returned to the display screen, taking note of the aircraft displayed. Her own carrier’s navalised Su-37s were responsible for keeping air superiority outside the range of the Novajev air defense net on the East and North of the island, while land based fighters were responsible for the South and West, to prevent any Novajev officers, namely Admiral Ekster, from escaping the island.

To the South of the island along with their escorts, she could see the icons representing the two electronic warfare aircraft that had been present for the past several hours, blasting away at the island with high powered jamming signals. Frequencies they weren’t jamming were being monitored by the array of receivers they carried for anything of importance, or in case they needed to shift the focus of their jamming signals to alternate frequencies.

Wixley and Mannorst were carefully explaining to their Novajev National Army liason officer why they weren't particularly willing to sit at what remained of the airfield and endure massive amounts of naval gunfire. The NNA man, originally from the FLRJ and had nowheres else to go was considering his place of employment to be his new homeland and was more than a little frustrated that the mercenaries from the Russkyan "Red Stone" firm were so readily willing to pack up and leave.

In the "Q-Hut" that had been fabricated near a hangar that was missing a side wall, there were two entrances. One to the front and one to the rear - the NNA officer was facing "front," attempting to dissaude the mercenaries. As the voice on the radio - nicknamed "KIAF Kim" - suggested, there was very little point in fighting to the death as a mercenary because then you're not the one cashing your paycheques. Such was the nature of mercenaries. Mannikov eased the back door open and raised an entrenching tool, stepping carefully through the doorway and closing it softly behind him.

Mannorst shook his head no, but the Russian simply leapt forward, slammed the flat of the blade against the side of the NNA officer's head, and eased him out of his chair onto the floor. He knelt on the man's chest and pulled tape and lengths of cord from the bellows pockets on his combat jacket.

"It's like you said to me, Piet," Mannikov said as he smoothed tape over the man's mouth and checked to make sure he was breathing through his nose "Silence is golden. Duct tape is silver."
He rolled the man onto his stomach and dragged him to the heavy desk that was bolted into the "Q-Hut's" floor. He closed the man's lower legs around one of the desk's legs and tied his ankles together, doing the same with his forearms and wrists.

Wixley looked at his South African compatriot. "Duct tape is silver?" Mannorst shrugged. "Ja. I was browsing the internet a few days ago, you know these motivational posters? On one of those."
"Ah."

NNA presence around the airfield was very low since it had been rendered inoperable by the artillery bombardment. They'd decided to relocate assets to harder to hit areas, leaving Fireforce with one working helicopter. This was insufficient to the job at hand, and the Fireforce men didn't particularly appreciate being hung out on a line to dry. Wixley didn't particularly appreciate the play on the RLI's - amongst other elite units - task during the bushwar he'd fought in at age seventeen either, but that couldn't be helped. The mercenaries packed all of their kit onto medium trucks and offered the pilots a ride. The groundcrew for the helicopter had already accepted, their duffles were on the third Ural 4320 truck from the rear. The helicopter was then gifted with several kilograms of high explosive plastique molded around the engine with the detonators wired to the rather large battery; if the helicopter was started up it would explode rather spectacularly, as it was freshly refuelled.

It wasn't that the "Red Stone" mercenaries were actively trying to help the Kilrany, but they knew better than to fight them, especially given that it would be the KINI and possibly the IG coming ashore. They also didn't fancy being hunted from the air, given that was how they'd done their job earlier. The column - six Ural 4320s, one ZIl-131, and four UAZ-469 "Wazik" four-by-fours fitted with HMGs, set out from the airfield as the sun set on the horizon. The handful of remaining mercenaries belonging to the Novajev National Army weren't from the FLRJ and thus still had a homeland to return to if they so chose - they took with them all of their equipment and a BTR-80 was placed at the head of the column with another at the tail. The entire column numbered barely seventy men, laden with enough provisions to last for a month and enough ammunition to host an Afghani drug lord's wedding.

They'd bluff their way by NNA checkpoints and patrols as a reinforcement group, using the jamming as an excuse as to why the patrols hadn't been alerted to their transit. Their goal was a very small farm near the coast - three buildings total, but two barns that could hide the BTR-80s and some of the trucks. It was bordered on one side by woods that could be used to bivouac in safety, and provided the men treated the farmer's family with respect they'd protect him from roving bands of NNA mercenaries, et cetera. Once the invasion came they'd make themselves known to the Kilrany and any other landing forces - the NNA and Novajev officers would be too busy trying to save themselves to stamp out a band of "traitors."

Vice-Admiral Sarah Conrad stretched her arms, then entered the bridge. She looked around, the sailors hard at work. She looked down on deck and two F/A-18F Super Hornet prepared for a patrol. Sarah brought her attention back onto the bridge. The captain was no where in sight, just his Lieutenant.

"Status Lieutenant?" He turned to face her, gave a simple salute.

"Ma'am, the perimeter is set, submarines in position. The HMDS. Sovereign sends her apologies and estimates 3 hours repair, giving them 100% on the engines. Received message from the Kilrany, just putting the finishing touches on it. Should be done any minute."

"Good good. Crying shame about the Sovereign's luck."

"Just another day in the navy ma'am."

"Very true Lieutenant-" she stopped as a sailor approached.

"Sir, Ma'am. Message from the Kilrany." he handed the Admiral a slip of paper. She looked at it quickly. Then sighed. She didn't have to have a foreign power in 'command' of her. But she did feel a bit of pride as the ranking Commonwealth officer. She handed the slip to the Lieutenant.

"Very well. Tell them we acknowledge and will hold in this vicinity for the moment. No need to tell them about our troubles. Also I'm sure the General below wants a word with them about a landing, but he can do that when he makes his way up here. In the meantime I think that message will suffice." The Lieutenant finished the message and handed it back to the sailor.

"Report this to the Captain."

"Aye sir." the sailor saluted then turned and left in a hustle. The admiral fixed her peak cap then begun to walk around the bridge looking at the various stations, trying to not get in the sailor's ways. Content, she left the bridge for the flight deck, her favorite place onboard the ship. The two hornets had left on their patrol and the two that they took over for where just coming in. The noise was deafening, the environment had a sense of chaos, and yet the crew moved swiftly and determined, each action rehearsed a thousand times before. To her it seems like a dance performance of ballet artists.

Awkward to see it as that... she thought but shrugged her shoulders, who care what she thought, she was just an Admiral. She made a face, she was well aware of the tension she created with many sailors and officers in the navy, possibly the entire armed forces. She laughed, this would be her time to shine, prove her worth and see the faces on the cranky old bastards of the Navy Board who didn't approve. The vote for the promotion was very close, a single vote. Sarah plugged her ears as the fighters made their final approach, but it did very little. Yes, I will probe myself once and for all!

HMS Majestic
At Sea

As the sun had risen, Vice-Admiral Colin Hamilton had stood upon the sailing bridge with his morning coffee watching the deep black of the evening slowly recede against the golden tentacles of dawn. White cumulus clouds now dotted the brightening sky interrupted only by faintly swirling eddies and ripples caused by his pilots hunting each other amongst the clouds. To port and starboard, the brightening sky silhouetted the massive hulls of his additional fleet carriers and dreadnoughts, whose massive turrets scraped the pacific and idyllic setting with their long, cold fingers.

And yet despite the hidden ferocity, the intrinsic violence of the machines of men, Hamilton easily recognised the beauty in their lines and curves as the stems split the waves. Not far from his flagship sailed the other large ships in his task force, the stealthily designed but less aesthetically appealing amphibious assault ships aboard which were hundreds of Royal Marines and Royal Army auxiliary units. As each day had passed, the whole task force had inched closer and closer to the entrance of the Zuiderzee Strait.

"Admiral," a voice called out from behind him. Hamilton turned and found one of his staff officers waiting with a folded piece of paper in hand, "for you, sir," the aide said handing the paper over quickly.

Hamilton's pale blue eyes darted across the surface of the paper before he nodded. "Very well, inform the captain that the task force shall be making minor course changes."

"Yes, Admiral."

Chilkov, Novajev

Stepping carefully around the debris, attempting to leave as small a footprint as possible, Rodney grimaced as he found what was left of the mobile launcher site. "Relatively efficient," he muttered to himself, drawing an inquisitive glance from Banks who was scouring the ground to his right. "Keep searching, Duncan," Rodney whispered, this time more audibly.

After a few minutes of scouring the cratered field, Rodney signaled for the search to move indoors. With thermal scopes and their bare eyeballs, the team secured the perimeter and did a quick check for deserters or otherwise uninvited guests. Finding none, they slowly and methodically entered the farmhouse, clearing each room one-by-one, eventually confirming what they had long suspected. Whoever had fired off the missiles had left in a hurry.

Banks pushed things around the tabletop with the end of his rifle, picking up the odd photograph and newspapers–none of which whose writing he could understand. But some things needed no words. Rummaging through a hastily deserted pile of personal items he came across a small, folded photograph. He threw a piece of crumpled paper at Cižek on the far side of the room, gaining his irritated attention. Flashing the subject of the photograph, however, elicited a smile and a laugh. "Not bad," Cižek mouthed silently.

In response Banks simply made an obscene gesture before folding and pocketing the photograph. A loud snap emanating from outside startled the group, all of them quickly scattering to the windows. "Anything, Poole," Rodney quietly asked one of his men who was keeping an eye on the field.

"Negative, some branch just gave way."

Rodney signaled to Banks and Cižek that all was clear. Now noticing the radio atop the countertop was still switched on and broadcasting, he motioned for Cižek to raise the volume, figuring that the Novikovian would have the best chance of translating whatever it was that was being said on Novajev radio stations.

"Kilrany, sir," Cižek responded quickly. As special forces, Rodney's team had received a brief on both Kilrany and Novajev in order to provide a perfunctory familiarity with both groups and their cultures. Rodney understood a scant amount, most of his team even less–but Cižek, as a Slav, understood a bit more. "I cannot make out most of it though."

A brief moment of silence followed the transmission and then it broadcast again, first in Russian and then in English. Not Oceanian English–but despite the different accent it was intelligible to the native speakers in the farmhouse. Rodney and Banks listened intently, letting Cižek continue to search through the items, the MREs, the trash and the playing cards.

Cižek laughed looking upon the cards. "Poor bastard," he muttered to himself in his own tongue, drawing a snide glance from Banks, who had stopped listening to the message when it switched into Kilrany again. Rodney walked over, mildly curious, and with gloved hands carefully turned over the cards Cižek had been so equally careful in investigating.

"Odd, Captain," Cižek finally said, stuffing the cards into his own pockets for his own personal use. "I might be off in the translation but seems as if these were made in Kilrany."

Banks, for his part, snuck a quick pack of cigarettes. "Hopefully better than that shite we got before heading out," he added quickly after receiving a disapproving glance from Rodney.

"We are not here to pilfer but to reconnoitre, Duncan. Please do bear that in mind every so often."

"Aye, sir."

"Regardless," Rodney added soon after, "it seems as if the missiles hit Kilrany targets. Targets out to sea perhaps," on the last point Rodney was simply posing the question to himself. "Either way, we are likely to start seeing a few more boots on the ground and we are loaded rather lightly to start."

"And if we're caught," Cižek added, "they might see us mercenaries aiding this Novajev National Army."

Rodney stared out the window towards the forests to which he increasingly wanted to fall back. They simply did not know what was happening on Novajev and, more importantly, what the hell was happening out at sea. "Alright, whoever left took what we wanted. I would have done the same, and so this National Army is apparently semi-well-trained. Not your average third-world conscript force." He personally regarded this as rather strange given the tiny nature of Novajev, but had nothing but a feeling to back it up. "Gather up all the personal items you can, letters and photographs and a few scraps of MRE wrappers. I want to know everything about what they were eating and what they were doing and what they were reading. You two clear?"

"Yessir," came the unison response.

"And make it quick," Rodney added as they bagged and pocketed whatever small and transportable items they could. When they finished the group fell back to the woods northwest of Chilkov, where Rodney digitally photographed all the items before sending the files in a secure burst transmission, along with a quick note on his observations and a situational analysis, to the UK. When finished, all but the most telling evidence was quietly buried.

Finally, Rodney took a moment to examine his map of Novajev. If he were in command of a mobile missile battery, he would begin moving west, away from the coastline where special forces would have easier access to exact a retribution apparently the Kilrany desired all of a sudden. It also seemed likely that the National Army would need to begin repositioning their forces in a broader sense and that would entail movement of vehicles from depot to depot, from base to base.

"Listen up," he hoarsely whispered to his small unit. "We are to head northwest up into the hills. We are going to head quickly and quietly, stopping only for dawn. Our next target is going to be this intersection." Rodney smoothed his map as flat as possible upon a naturally-fallen tree trunk, pointing to an intersection roughly halfway between Chilkov and Botresky.

"As I see it, ladies, the Kilrany will probably take out these two bridges across this inlet in the very early hours of their operation. Consequently, if the Novajev Army wants to move anything easily on a north-south axis on this side of the island, they will have to pass right through this intersection. And I imagine that whoever is in charge here will not so easily abandon Khabarovsk and so be ready for anything. So let us step quickly and lightly." Rodney motioned for his unit to move out, and after packing his map and tidying their site he followed for their trek up the hill.

Ministry of Defence
Georgetown, United Kingdom

While dawn was not far off in Novajev, dusk was not far off in the Oceanian capital and so when General Marcus Howard's desktop informed him of an important e-mail, he swore to himself. The United Kingdom always had special forces somewhere in the world–and Howard's oversaw all their operations. He double-clicked on the attachment and found himself looking at an initial intelligence estimate of the files sent by Rodney.

"Mostly discarded refuse," Howard read aloud. "We send a man halfway across the world to dig through trash." He laughed to himself with the image of the Prime Minister before the House of Commons defending such a use of special forces personnel. Politicians never understood. He breezed through the rest of the report, which noted only three items of interest.

One: The missiles launched from Chilkov targeted not the Kilrany fleet to the south but the Diggledom fleet off the coast. While this point had already been raised by the Admiralty, Howard's analysts noted that Novajev would not likely possess a significant cache of such relatively sophisticated missiles. More importantly, however, initial evidence indicated that only a small missile strike had been launched against the Kilrany–an attack so small that it was all but guaranteed to fail. A more solid plan would have seen the missiles at Chilkov directed not at the Diggledom fleet but launched in conjunction with the assault on the main Kilrany fleet to the south.

On that point Howard would have to consult with his counterpart across the city in the Admiralty. It was not so much that he did not trust his own analysts, but he would rather discuss naval affairs with the analysts of the Royal Navy, or rather their boss. The second point was more interesting, but without much hard supporting evidence. Novajev was simply too small a nation to have such a well-trained and well-equipped army developed in secret and then deployed against a paramilitary force of Novajev police officers. Unfortunately, all Howard had to present to his superiors were the gut feelings of a commanding officer in the field along with scant evidence of sophisticated missiles being used against forces and media footage of a significant military presence being wielded against the National Police Force. To Howard it meant one of three things: their chancellor was honest in his address and it was a Novajev force, it was a mercenary force hired by funds from the same chancellor's purse, or lastly a foreign power had simply invaded Novajev and gained the cooperation of senior members of the government.

Howard doubted the first. Politicians were never truthful. The third, more unlikely–why invite a foreign power onto your soil to confirm the fact? The second was, in Howard's estimation most likely. And his only evidence of that was the third point of interest and simultaneously a flimsy piece of evidence: a pack of playing cards left by the alleged mercenaries that could have easily been bought by the former owner while on vacation. He needed more. But the attack on the Kilrany meant that it was a mere matter of hours before his team potentially fell under Kilrany cross hairs.

For a long moment, the general leaned back in his chair, rubbing his rough fingertips over his smooth, bald head. The only thing that did not make any sense at all to Howard was why. Why would a nation seemingly all but dependent upon its protector turn right around and attack the same protector immediately after asking for said protection? And then what would any nation gain from having the Kilrany Empire occupy a small speck of land just a stone's throw from its coastline? It increasingly seemed Novajev was but a pawn for some grander scheme. But while Howard had a vague idea of the marionette, he knew neither the play nor the puppeteer.

The Citadel
Georgetown, United Kingdom

"The question then becomes how much do we want them to know?"

Rodney Ingrahm pursed his lips and nodded, taking a moment to reflect and sip his still steaming tea. A tall, rakish man with soft brown hairs and soft–but equally cold and contemplating–brown eyes to match, Rodney Ingrahm had become Prime Minister with the objective of increasing the foreign presence of the United Kingdom. He had not, however, anticipated having to sneak around someone else's country to try and do so. Every week, outside of the usual cabinet meeting, he dined with his longtime friend and now foreign secretary, Gavin Astley. Whilst dinner comprised non-business talk, the tea afterwards did.

"What I fear, Gavin, is having the images of dead Oceanian soldiers on television screens throughout the UK."

"We could always pull them out."

"And then what do we do with the task force we have dispatched? Bring it back home? The Democratic Socialists would have a field day in the Commons. No, I am afraid that this particular part of the course we have outlined is unalterable."

The two men sat in silence for a moment, each nibbling on berry scones baked fresh by the Prime Minister's kitchen staff earlier in the afternoon–before he had received the various reports on the situation from the Foreign Office, the Ministry of Defence, the Admiralty, and the Royal Intelligence Service.

"And the Delesians?" Ingrahm asked, swallowing his morsel.

"Apparently they fall upon the side of the Kilrany."

"I talked to Radovan earlier this afternoon," Ingrahm added, referencing the First Sea Lord, "who informed me that one of our submarines identified a Delesian task force sailing into Kilrany waters. At least if things develop not wholly in our favour we do have friends in unfriendly waters."

Astley nodded for his part. "Well, suffice it to say I still think it advisable we pull out, Mr. Prime Minister, we have business in neither Kilrany nor Novajev."

"No, but we have the opportunity to provide aid to a state that, while not overly active on the world stage could well prove a useful ally, both politically and economically." Ingrahm sipped some more tea before continuing, "additionally, it may be of benefit for the Novikovian electorate to see us aiding a distinctly Slavic nation."

"Even if they seem to be the instigators of a war," Astley added quietly.

"I highly doubt that the people of Novajev would support a full-fledged war with the Kilrany Empire. Even if they are attempting to direct that support against a third party to lessen Kilrany influence over Novajev affairs, they would surely know that even a minor conflict will set them back years."

Astley chuckled. "And so what was Novikov?"

"An aberration made possible through Kacnerova's systemic propaganda."

"Very well. But what do you want me to send to my counterpart?"

Secure Communication
To Pavel Kasatikin
Foreign Affairs Minister
Kilrany Empire

Recent events upon the island of Novajev have come to the attention to His Majesty's Government and we fully condemn the unprovoked attack by certain forces against naval vessels flying the Kilrany ensign. However, prior to this brazen violation of peace, HM Government inserted a small force to gather intelligence upon the exact nature of the recent political and security changes on the island of Novajev.

Heretofore, the United Kingdom could count on a peace now proven ultimately untenable to safeguard her forces from unnecessary armed conflict with parties with whom we have no quarrel. However, in light of recent events, it is the opinion of HM Government that the recent spate of violence necessitates the disclosure of the aforementioned Oceanian presence on Novajev.

Presently HM Government is disinclined to extricate the force. However, I am authorised by the Ministry of Defence to relate to the Imperial Kilrany Government that standing rules of engagement do not imperial Kilrany forces. Rather, HM Government is prepared to consider, given the extraordinary circumstances, a joint intelligence operation to discover the true nature of the events unfolding on Novajev.

If such an arrangement is deemed acceptable by the Imperial Kilrany Government, the United Kingdom will make available all intelligence gathered on Novajev pertinent to the current situation in exchange for similar information in the interest of preserving regional peace and stability.

Gavin Astley,
Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs
United Kingdom of Oceania.

OOC: *Sudden feeling of writers inadequacy when compared to previous post* heh, by the way, not sure if you saw it or not Azazia, asked a minor question in the OOC thread.

Admiral Roerich stood partially leaning over the primary display in the Relentless’ CIC, slowly drumming her fingers on the side of it, nearby a pair of 5th Division intelligence officers in their black uniforms and armour were in quiet discussion. While she appeared to be looking at the display, her eyes were unfocused as she was contemplating what action she should take in regards to the Delesa, Diggledom, Azazia and Aequatio task forces either currently in the Morye, or approaching it. Already her task force was some eighty kilometers Northeast of the most Northeastern point on Novajev, continuing on a course Northwest to give the small fleet more maneuvering room.

Unaware that her Delesian counterpart had mistaken her communication as a command rather then a suggestion; a suggestion Roerich had only really hoped would be taken into consideration, half expecting it to be blatantly ignored. This was however due to her own upbringing in Kilrany and a certain level of apprehension that came with dealing with foreigners, especially foreign militaries that they were unfamiliar with. As it was she unsure what the Delesian fleet commander, whom she had no knowledge of, would do.

Unlike her Delesian counter part however, she had no such desire or need to prove herself to the Kilrany admiralty, while she was one of the current highest ranking female admirals, she was far from the only one, or first one for that matter. For the Kilrany, it was a long, well used to fact of life that women served in the military; something the majority never gave a second thought to.

Her drumming fingers came to an abrupt stop as she refocused on the horizontally mounted display screen that displayed every surface and air contact for several hundred kilometers around the Relentless thanks to data links with numerous airborne early warning aircraft and the fleets own radars. Her focus now shifted to the aircraft in the general vicinity, she knew the Delesa were not enemies, quite the contrary in fact, she had read a handful of the generally glowing reports from army officers who had been dealing with them in Khurzav, they were competent, decently trained and so far had not earned their ire. Still, it made her uneasy to have aircraft of even an unofficial ally so close to her carrier.

“What time did Captain Carius schedule the opening rounds?”

A nearby officer reacted to the Admiral’s question by checking a digital display next to him and his station, “Oh eight hundred hours ma’am.”

A wicked smile played across her lips as she thought of the resulting chaos it was likely to bring to the Novajev, let alone fear. Oh how I would like to see the looks on their faces come oh eight hundred hours.

She turned then to the two 5th Division agents, “Has General Mulyavin indicated the area where he would like to make the initial landing at?”

“In a way, he has indicated a desire to land forces on both the East and West of Novajev concurrently with each other given his force’s size. Though he seemed displeased with his options on the East, given the few useful beaches. He expressed it as being his ideal landing plan for now. He indicated he would have a more detailed outline sent to you this afternoon.”

“Hmmm, alright.”

-----

Pavel Kasatikin whistled an old marching tune in the privacy of his own office as he looked over a proposed trade agreement from one of their neighbour, specifically a request for more military hardware from Valnari. They had still not recovered from their near crippling losses incurred during their brief war with Khurzav, most projections from both Valnari and Kilrany sources indicated it would likely take several generations to fully recover.

It was not unusual for the minister to be reviewing a trade agreement with a foreign nation given the relative isolation Kilrany had in regards to the rest of the world, though Yuliya Katinya, the Kilrany Minister of Finance, had done the majority of the work. In matters such as this they shared responsibility in dealing with foreign nations in regards to trade of any kind.

His reading was interrupted a few moments later by a knock on his office door, promptly followed by a courier quickly entering and coming towards him. Without a word the courier dropped a plain manila envelope on his desk. The courier didn’t say anything before he left, he didn’t need to, Pavel was hard pressed to miss the Lapinkoira personal defense weapon hanging from a tactical sling. All couriers from 5th Division were armed and traveled in force; a partner or two were likely outside.

As the courier left his office, Pavel used a letter opener to get at the contents of the envelope, which little to his surprise, was another dossier folder. Knowing it was of importance he put aside the trade agreement papers and started going through his new reading material.

It was 5th Division’s response to an unexpected communiqué from a nation calling itself the United Kingdom of Oceania, which they had been referring to as Azazia, Someone will no doubt be checking in to that to get that right I’m sure. As he read on he raised his eyebrows in surprise at the rather harsh words by 5th Division, Never been ones to like cooperation with foreign intelligence forces. An interested grunt escaped from him a moment later as he took note that they had included a full copy of the original message, which was a rarity. Coming on to the end of their message he sighed, so they’re going to share are they? The Emperor must have decided there was some merit in dealing with these people, friends of Delesa if this information is correct. 5th Division must be having a field day at the thought of sharing at their headquarters … wherever the hell that is. These Oceania, or is it Azazia? Whichever … they had a somewhat more eloquent wording in their diplomatic messages … heh … wonder how often they deal with nations such as ours.

Sealed Diplomatic Communiqué

To: Gavin Astley,
Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs
United Kingdom of Oceania

While I have been informed that the Emperor is concerned that you would take such an action without consulting us, he has decided that despite this slight, cooperation is in our best interest. To that end he has informed our intelligence service to be forthcoming with pertinent information on Novajev through this office.

As an initial act of cooperation, I have been informed to tell you that due to recent hostilities taken against our navy by the Novajev, several military reconnaissance sections have been sent ashore in an attempt to gather more direct information on the situation in preparation for a landing in order to bring this situation to a close.

While we are unsure what information you already possess on Novajev, I am told that our intelligence service is assembling a more detailed dossier on what we know in regards to Novajev.

Kilrany Foreign Affairs Minister
Pavel Kasatikin

-----

“MOVE IT! MOVE IT!”

The mercenary officer’s accent was clearly English as he gestured feverishly and yelled over the din of engine noises from a multitude of medium tucks and armoured personnel carries as he tried to direct their most important equipment out as fast as he could. Dawn was breaking over Novajev some time around oh six hundred hours as they were finally getting the last of their equipment and personnel out of the Eastern base, they had been working non-stop since the engagement with the Kilrany the day before.

The clattering of the BMP-2s and the rumble of the truck engines were overpowered by the whine of four pieces of heavy armour, a platoon of T80UMs. God damnit, you were supposed to have those moving two hours ago.

He gestured vigorously with his right arm at the turned out tank crew for them to move ahead, futilely screaming an order at them, “Get your asses moving before the Kilrany blow them off!”

The drivers kicked their armoured vehicles forward through an opening between trucks and out the base’s entrance on the West side, quickly turning onto the road between Kalash and Saprovo. He noted they began driving down the road towards Kalash, well aware that they were destined for Khlav along with a mechanized infantry platoon.

He waited a moment for them to be clear of the entrance before he waved forward another few vehicles.

-----

The Red Stone employed mercenaries were not the only ones to hear the Kilrany message and take it to heart, as much as the Novajev naval officers who served as overall commanders tried to prevent them from hearing it. An entire mechanized infantry company; made up primarily of Russkyan, Spazjenian and Kilrany citizens, stationed near the small city of Tjukovsk on the west side of the island chose to abandon their Novajev employers.

Unlike the Red Stone mercenaries however, when the Novajev officer tried to stop them, the Kilrany born company commander put three rounds into the unarmoured upper body of the officer without a second thought. He, like the other Kilrany personnel had served in the their nations military and liked the odds of surrendering to their countrymen far more then attempting to fight them for a paycheck they’d likely never get to cash in.

Also unlike the Red Stone mercenaries, the plan of these mercenaries were somewhat more brazen given their large number and heavy equipment, namely their BMP-2s. With nearly two hundred infantry and thirty armoured personnel carries with their crews, they decided to ‘claim’ the small city of Tjukovsk in the name of the ‘intelligent mercenaries’ and dig in, where they then began to broadcast their intent to surrender to Kilrany military forces on one of the open civilian channels suggested by ‘KIAF Kim’.

-----

Captain Isaac Mashkov glanced at the time on his watch and smiled as it counted down the last minute before oh eight hundred hours. Lowering his watch arm he looked forward out the bridge screen of his vessel, the KIN Ragnarok, one of three Poseiden class ships that had moved closer to the island.

Currently the smaller task force, as dispatched by Admiral Roerich was formed into a battle line stringing from North to South thirty kilometers East of the Novajev coast, and steamed along at a relatively slow speed of five knots. The three Poseidens made up the center of the line, with the escorting destroyers and frigates spread evenly to their front and rear to make maximum use of their missile defense systems in case the Novajev had more anti-ship missiles.

The four large three gun turrets of each of the three Poseidens were already oriented Westward and loaded, waiting for the last few seconds to tick away. It was a limited strike plan, intended to inspire a little fear into the mercenaries and encourage their surrender. Three salvoes from their 406mm guns were to pound the Eastern NNA base before they shifted their fire North to the airfield then to the NNA firebase in turn. Each gun prepared to unleash their twelve hundred thousand plus kilogram high capacity warheads on their targets.

Looking at his watch once more it was finally on the last ten seconds, slowly it ticked down as he watched, only looking away a second before oh eight hundred hours just in time to see the full twelve gun broadside from the KIN Armageddon two hundred meters to his ship’s front, he felt his own ship’s guns fire as well. The main guns were not the only ones to fire though, the Poseiden’s secondary guns, a bank of five twin 152mm gun mounts on their port sides began coughing out their own rounds in their own short, limited barrage on the same targets.

Brigadier-General Jacob Wolfe opened a hatch onto the flight deck; spotting the Vice-Admiral watching the crew hard at work, he made his way over.

“I am told you have made contact with… them?”

“If by them you mean the Kilrany, yes we have. They have given us warning to avoid the coast line, and I’m taking the advice for the moment while we repair a few problems.”

“Yeah well if you ask me, sitting here in the middle of no where is asking to be blown up, and I think I speak for all my men when I say I want off this floating coffin.”

“General I would expect you would be one to understand the delicate situation we are in. Ad if you haven’t looked at a map recently, there is no land of which I would gladly drop you off with out provoking a war with the Commonwealth. Just sea and a coast line of Novajev.”

“So what’s the story this time? Fucking parent has a run away child? We are here to help with a spanking?” The Admiral shot a glance at the General but he took no notice as he stared at the distant Halifax Destroyer. But he could feel it; a chill ran down his spine. He shrugged it off.

“No, not quite… Do you see the whole word as the Commonwealth’s problem General?”

“Well,” he thought about it for a moment, “If there was only us, there wouldn’t be a problem would there? I don’t care much anymore anyways. I do what my superiors tell me to do. If they say kill I kill, they say sit, I sit.”

“Aren’t you the perfect political scapegoat-servant?”

“That I am and that’s what makes me a great officer. Before you can lead you must follow. And well I was a grunt before I was an officer.”

“Well that’s good for you Wolfe, but welcome to the real word, most people are taught to think on their own.”

“Thinking and obeying are two very different things Admiral. Now when do we land? I know that sooner or later the word will come and I will get off this thing and away from the navy.”

“No clue, maybe you should bring it up next time.”

“Maybe I will. This isn’t like any other cruise I’ve been on, food sucks, bed’s a frame. And service, don’t get me started. The government should have acquired a luxury liner for us for something.”

“Well that’s just too bad General, I’m sorry to hear that. Well don’t worry you’ll be on shore soon, and off my boat.” Jacob Wolfe said nothing and turned and walked away, back into the hatch and made his way to the bridge. He and his officers had been studying maps and topography of the island, possible routes of attack for the tanks, the LZs for the coming airborne raid. It had proved difficult with no inside source or real time intelligence. The government hadn’t sent in any spies or small assault teams before hand.

He entered the bridge, looking around for some sort of communications center. Finally he just asked someone who looked like an officer.

“Where is your communications?” He said. The man he asked looked at him with a question on his face. Then looked at the uniform for closely, you could see it had dawned on him that he was an army officer… and a Brigadier-General! He saluted.

“Sir, over there. That man is the comm. officer. He can help you sir.” The General didn’t offer thanks, instead just walked away towards the designated comm. officer.

“I need to contact the Kilrany.” Wolfe said quickly. The officer turned around.

“Authorization? On who’s orders?”

“My damn authorization. Let’s go, get it done now!” That was enough for the officer and he grabbed a pen and pad of paper from the counter top and handed it to the general.

“If you please.”

“I don’t, copy this down. ‘This is Brigadier-General Jacob Wolfe of the Commonwealth Armed Forces, commander of the Delesian ground forces for the region of Novajev. I am onboard the Commonwealth aircraft carrier. I request a meeting where we can establish a plan for possible attack and penetration of the Novajev coast line.’ That is all.” The comm. officer scribbled it down and handed it to the man sitting in front of the computer console. After a few minutes of silence it was sent.

“Done sir.” He said with a hint of pride in the quickness of the job.

“Outstanding job, I’ll recommend your ass for a medal!” he said, crushing any pride the officer had built up. “Send the reply when it comes to my room.” And left the bridge.

0606
Imperial Palace
Susdal, Diggledom

“The fleet has arrived; they are in position, slightly further from the coast this time.” The emperor was listening to the briefing as he ate, “The Kilrany have extended all courtesy to us, apparently they have recon elements on the island at this time, we haven’t been informed where exactly, but they asked us not to engage the Novajeveans in case we compromised their presence. We have the dedicated expeditionary force sitting off their coast waiting for further orders, what do you want us to do?”

Emperor Maximillian Davidov hated decisions like this, admittedly it appeared a relatively simple decision, but he was still trying to make new allies around the strait and flattening a small island, although well within his power, would be a bad move, almost guaranteed to cause more problems that it solved. He always attempted to gather as much information as possible before making a decision, which was why there had been a series of satellite launches in the previous days, completing the coverage of the entire island. If his forces were going to get involved he wanted them to have access to the most up-to-date intelligence. To that end he was expecting a report from one of the intelligence analysts, but they appeared to be running slightly late.

The door opened suddenly, although the room was a private dining area for the emperor and any select guests it was by no means a small room, nearly fifteen metres long and ten wide, so when the figure entered at the far end he had to rush down the room towards his Emperor. The analyst was an odd character, a highly experienced satellite analyst and a childhood companion of the emperor, whose father had served as a bodyguard with the emperor’s father, which meant he got away with more than the average person would have considered trying. His hair had flopped down over his face, prompting him to blow it up before beginning to talk.

“Hey Max, sorry I am late, there were some last minute things that came up.” The admiral who had been briefing the emperor stiffened at the lack of respect, although the regular guards, the ones referred to as the Left Hand of the Emperor all knew of the pre-existing relationship and, as normal, let the lack of obvious respect slide.

“As I was leaving I noticed a more serious change in the military situation in Novajev, we spotted heavy armour for a start, at least four T80’s. We also have some unusual movement among the rest of the mercenaries. The airport that caused us so much trouble last time appears to have been abandoned, we can still see a single helicopter that may be in working condition, though from the air we can’t tell if it is still in working condition or if it has actually been damaged but in a way we can’t tell. But the infantry presence at the base has certainly been reduced, with none visible to the satellites. The oddest thing however is the actions of what appears to be a mechanised infantry company on the east of the island. Whereas the rest of the Novajev forces are spreading out, presumably to avoid the possibility of a single attack eliminating a large proportion of their forces, this company has entrenched themselves in a city, Tjukovsk, if the maps I have access to are correct. Any questions or can I get back to seeing if there are any women under my satellites who like sunbathing nude?” The admiral actually gasped at the lack of respect evident in the voice, causing the two guards standing against the rear wall of to smirk beneath their balaclavas.

“No, keep me updated on any new information. Make sure that you have at least twenty analysts working on this. Keep several ready for the expeditionary forces if they are needed, they will probably be sending in recon teams, so they will be required. We also have a special unit on route, part of the new recon units. This means that you have to keep an eye on the new scope-eye satellite. Once again, any problems or anything like that come to me.”
Isaac nodded before turning to quickly move out of the room, heading back towards his favourite place, the satellite control room. The emperor turned back to the admiral, “Tell the taskforce commander to prepare a mission for the spetznaz recon units. Make sure that I am kept up to date with the actions in and around Novajev.” He stood up, picked up the remains of a croissant and walked towards the door, pausing as the two guards opened the door as he approached and closed it behind him. As he left he waved his arm over his shoulder, signifying that the admiral was dismissed and should get on with his new orders.


0639
Abdiel, Kirov Class heavy Missile Cruiser
48km East of Anjukov
Spetznaz living quarters

Yuri Ivanov carefully picked his rifle upper off the table in his room. He had been training with the new equipment for almost a year now and had finally got used to all the new weapons, instead of the more standard Diggledom weapons, modified soviet designs. The entire of the Diggledom spetznaz unit’s armouries had been replaced with NATO weapons that had been linked into the newest piece of Diggledom equipment, the Integrated Soldier System. This system linked the entire recon team together over a short range network, allowing instantaneous communication between the soldiers; the system was controlled by a ruggedized computer attached to the soldier’s combat vest. Although each component had been tested, both on its own and as part of the whole system this would be the first live combat use of the equipment. As such the entire team had been cleaning their weapons and checking and rechecking their equipment.
He slid a lightly oiled cloth across the breech, before feeding a pull through into the barrel and pulling it out, inspecting the flannelette to check that the barrel was clean before reassembling the rifle. He was reattaching and checking the grenade launcher and its sights when the door slammed open.

“Hey Yuri! Ready to rock, recon then ruin?” Grigori entered, nearly shouting the unofficial motto of the spetznaz recon units.

“Hey mate, you already managed to sort your kit?” Yuri asked, knowing full well that the despite outward appearances there was no way that Grigori would have started to mess around if his kit wasn’t ready.

“Nah, Johannes lost a bet so he is doing it all for me.” Yuri appraised his last thought; maybe he would only mess around if his kit was sorted or about to be by someone he trusted.

“We are meant to be landing just after 0800; we have about an hour to get ready before we are meant to be setting off. We have already been briefed on the basic plan, we are going to be following the initial recon plan, entering from the western side of the island, and we will get a further briefing once we all have our kit packed. Go and tell the others to meet me in the main briefing room once they have got their stuff ready.”

0803
Imperial Palace
Susdal, Diggledom

“...so I think that we should try to increase the amount of funding that goes towards the education system, if only to...” The education advisor stopped as the door to the emperor’s office slammed open, Isaac running through them nodding his thanks to the guard who had had to slam the door open to keep Isaac from running straight into it. Isaac quickly shoved a series of glossy satellite photos across the desk,
“The Kilrany have opened fire! Their naval taskforce off the east coast has just started to fire some very big guns at the Novajev coast. I came as soon as the computer sounded the alert; my new software seems to work with recognising the artillery firing.”

The emperor scowled before looking at his watch, “Sorry Ivan, looks like we will have to go through the education budget some other time.” The education minister stood up to leave, having served in the armed forces himself, as was compulsory in Diggledom, he knew that education would always come behind military matters.

“Has anything else happened in the area around Novajev?” He asked as he pulled up a series of screens on his computer, running through the roster of units in Novajev and within range of the strait. It was a depressingly small list he thought before looking up to address the intelligence analyst again,
“Are there any signs that the Kilrany mean to invade Novajev? Or has anything else unexpected happened in the area?”

“The Kilrany appear to have mobilized reinforcements for their fleet in the area, but without knowing what the fleet’s standard operating strength is I can’t tell you if they are replacing the damaged ships, going to a higher alert level or planning to wipe Novajev off the map.” Davidov reached to the intercom linking him to the outer office, “Find me the officer in charge of the Novajev situation and get them he immediately.”

He looked down at the photos, aligning them in front of him as if they were a winning hand in cards. “Fuck. This makes it more complicated.” He sighed as he started to carefully go over the photos, comparing the flashes from the Kilrany guns to the signs of impact around the mercenary bases. The massive craters they caused showing up clearly on the satellite photos, even the ones taken at a lower magnification, showing the sheer destructive potential of the Kilrany weapons.

After almost five minutes of silence in the office, the intelligence analyst having left after the education minister, there was a knock on the door.
“Enter.” He spoke without looking up from the photo he was studying.

“Emperor Davidov?” A soft female voice asked.

Maximillian looked up, smiling as he recognised the voice.
“Irena? I didn’t know you had ended up with anything to do with the Novajev situation.”

Colonel Irena Strenko walked into the room, smiling as she surveyed her old friend. They had been at the officer’s academy together, while they had been good friends they had fallen out of contact when she had been assigned to one of the border guard regiments and only recently started to talk again when she had returned from her four year tour in command of one of the border sectors.
“I am now Max, the ranking officer in charge of the entire situation, but onto business. What did you want to see me for?”

“I take it you have heard the latest from the Sat. Int. guys?”

“If you mean the Kilrany opening fire then I did. I have cancelled the recon mission that was about to start and have told the battle group commander to pull his ships back to give them extra firing time if there are any more missiles. I was going to come here anyway to ask if the Kilrany had sent any more diplomatic messages explaining their thinking. But if they haven’t we should probably ask them what the hell is going on down there.”

“You appear to have mirrored my thinking exactly. The diplomats are busy sorting out a nice message and I was calling to remind you I had organised for a special recon mission, but since you have already remembered I will let you get back to work.”

Irena nodded before turning to leave the room, but as she left she said over her shoulder,
“Just like normal Max, always the worrier.”
Max carried on typing, though a small smile crossed his face.

Diplomatic Communiqué
To: Pavel Kasatikin
From: Amanda Ethridge

Message:

We have observed the Kilrany fleet firing upon Novajev, in response we have pulled our fleet further away from the island in case of more anti-ship missiles, but don’t take this as a sign that we no longer support the Kilrany presence in the region. I have been authorized to tell you that we have a series of infantry reconnaissance teams in the area, at present they haven’t been landed on Novajev and we are reluctant to do so before we know the intentions of the Kilrany forces in the area. To this end we would like to know the purpose of the Kilrany bombardment of Novajev and any plans the Kilrany have for either further bombardments or any military action that may interfere with the reconnaissance teams taskings.

Yours Sincerely,
Amanda Ethridge

OOC: Sorry about the quality, I wanted to add more to this, but I was a little rushed to get this done now rather then have you wait till Sunday.

“Do you want us to blow the bridges?”

“Hmmm, off hand I’d say yes, while it wont completely stop anyone from going to either side of the island, it will make the transit more difficult, however, has the Emperor made any requests as to how we should conduct our attack?”

Admiral Anna Roerich shook her head slightly at the question posed by Brigadier General Carlo Mulyavin, the naval infantry officer in charge of what made up Relentless’ ground forces, “Only that we try to limit collateral damage where possible.”

Mulyavin nodded his head somewhat with a content look on his face, recognizing that phrase to mean he had quite a bit of freedom in how he chose to tackle the overall objectives as set down by the Emperor. Namely the disbanding the gloried mercenaries being referred to as the Novajev National Army and to bring the Emperor Admiral Rinat Ekster’s head, whether that was figuratively, or literally, he wasn’t quite sure yet. In any case he would aim to bring the Admiral in alive if possible, dead if necessary, as neither he nor the Emperor would squander the lives of their men needlessly.

“Then yes, those two bridges should be added to the list of targets should they ignore the deadline.”

“Very well, have you decided on a landing site?”

To that question the General looked down at the primary display that sat between the two officers, currently the usual overall image of the fleet was replaced with a detailed three-dimensional map of Novajev.

“Several actually, though only one if we make use of the foreign forces present. This long beachfront in the Northwest would be ideal. Though that company worth of mechanized infantry could be a major problem if their intent to surrender is a ruse. Additionally this area here, due west of Zhideijev.”

“If it is, then our Poseidens will ensure that Tjukovsk, the immediate surroundings and this mechanized force cease to exist.”

“Indeed. If we’re lucky that makes up a good one quarter to half of the battalion they have stationed on the West, however 5th Division has not been able to determine if the force landed by the two Ivan Rogov class landing ships made up all their ground combat personnel, or if more came in as they did with their supplementary personnel. For now I will assume they have more then we can readily see from satellite surveillance.”

“A wise course of action. What about the East section of Novajev?”

“There are only two good landing zones on the East, the same beachfront the ‘NNA’ originally landed on, and a stretch of land farther South, near Kharovo. I’m prepared to land forces on either, but I think we can do ourselves a favour and hand that task off to the some of our foreign ‘friends’, let them draw some fire rather then us, and let them feel they’re doing some good. If I recall the Emperor is keen to establish positive relations with these newcomers.”

“From what I’ve been told, he is.” She paused for a moment, “I don’t relish in the thought of having to coordinate between our forces and theirs, but it’s been done before and can be done again. Besides, the reports seem to indicate the recent arrivals are competent at least, so if we’re lucky we won’t encounter too many problems … and if we’re really lucky the vast majority of these mercenaries will act intelligently and surrender.”

“Yeah … and just how is our track record on being ‘lucky’ so far?”

“Touché.”

They both paused a for a few moments as they considered the map before them, the on-duty communications officer chose to take this opportunity to speak up, “Ma’am, message received from the Delesian fleet.”

“Read it.”

“This is Brigadier-General Jacob Wolfe of the Commonwealth Armed Forces, commander of the Delesian ground forces for the region of Novajev. I am onboard the Commonwealth aircraft carrier. I request a meeting where we can establish a plan for possible attack and penetration of the Novajev coast line,” the officer paused a moment as added indication that he spoke the entire content of the message. “That is all there was ma’am.”

The Admiral gave an acknowledging nod of her head before looking back at Mulyavin, “Seems we have an opportunity now to enact the plan you would like too. Shall we invite this General Wolfe aboard to ‘discuss’ our options?”

Mulyavin grunted slightly in amusement before responding in a poor attempt at an English accent, “Indeed we shall, and we will serve them tea and crumpets too shant we? A jolly good show of it we will make.” He paused a moment as Roerich chuckled before clearing his throat and continuing in a more serious tone, “But yes, we should invite this Delesian officer, we should also extend that offer to the Diggledom as well, perhaps we can convince the two to take on the Eastern half of the island for us.”

Roerich nodded her head before checking her watch and looking back at the communications officer who was patiently waiting for her, knowing she would want to send a reply, “Send an acknowledgement of the message and an invitation to the Delesian General to meet aboard this ship at thirteen hundred hours to discuss a landing, then send a similar message to the Diggledom.”

“Aye ma’am.”

-----

By 0800 hours the sun was well on its way through the morning sky and the Eastern NNA base was nearly completely evacuated save for a few remaining sections of infantry making a final sweep of the base for anything of potential importance that may have been left behind. Among them was the same officer who had been directing the vehicular traffic earlier in the day and throughout the better part of the night.

With his task complete he was climbing into the back of a BRDM-2 near the main entrance to be driven to the new Eastern command point. Being of English decent he had known of the Kilrany only through Western media that had never painted Kilrany in a positive light given their history and culture. As a direct result he had no trust in their supposed offer of safety.

The BRDM was slightly modernized over the basic model, however it retained the original armament, a KPVT with a coaxially mounted PKT. The officer pulled the door shut behind him as he tried to get situated inside the relatively small vehicle and buckling in before calling out.

“Get us out of here.”

Not a second after he said that he was suddenly slammed into the back of the vehicle, just barely through the windscreen to the front he could see that the vehicle was now flipping end over end out the gate. With the vehicle still in the air he found it hard to not notice the tremendous explosions ripping into the base and its buildings behind the tumbling armoured car. He was slammed forward hard as the vehicle landed hard on its roof, only still alive thanks to having been buckled in, the gunner was not so lucky.

Despite the twenty-five second pause before the second salvo came in, it was far from quiet as the smaller shells blanketed the area at a much higher rate of fire, shredding any exposed personnel with shrapnel.

The officer cursed as pain coursed through his body, his buckle holding him upside down in the battered armoured car. His survival was short lived as the second salvo form the lethal twelve hundred and twenty five kilogram high capacity shells came thundering in, one in particular landing far closer then the one that sent his vehicle tumbling less then a minute before. In all over the course of less then a minute and a half, just over one hundred of the four hundred and six millimeter shells bracketed the base with over one hundred and thirty-two thousand kilograms of high explosives, not counting the smaller secondary guns.

-----

Gradually over the course of ten minutes the Poseidens worked through their target list, choosing a slower rate of fire and acquisition rate then they could have otherwise due to a simple lack of urgency in their mission. Choosing instead to increase the potential fear by drawing the attack out.

Farther to the North, around 0805 the shells began to drop on the now mostly deserted airfield, the Kilrany knew it was mostly disabled by the Diggledom artillery strike, but intended to ensure it was taken out of action. There was only one poor unfortunate soul still in the area of the airfield at the time of the shelling, the Novajev liaison officer that the Red Stone mercenaries had left behind, tied to a desk.

By 0810 the last of the nine salvoes from the four hundred and six millimeter main guns was fired, the secondary guns having fell silent as their last shells flew in towards the NNA airbase, the firebase to the North of the island being outside their range. It was one of the sole targets in the strike that they knew was populated, but they had no intention of leaving the heavy guns their intact, little did they know that the one hundred and twenty millimeter mortars had left that firebase the day before, prior to the second major attack by the Diggledom navy.

This time around the gun pits, trenches and bunkers did the artillerymen little good as the heavy shells came in, digging themselves only slightly into the rocky Northern mountain range. Given soft enough soil the twelve hundred and twenty-five kilogram high explosive shells could have left a crate nearly eight meters deep and sixteen meters wide. The concussive forces alone of the multiple overlapping strikes ensued few survivors.

-----

Sealed Diplomatic Communiqué

To: Amanda Ethridge

In response to your query in regards to our current military action against Novajev, I have been informed that several ships of our fleet were tasked with a limited bombardment order against several military installations on the Eastern coast to both neutralize them as threats and to drive home the message to the mercenary forces that surrender is ultimately the superior option.

No further action is planned against Novajev targets until fourteen hundred hours in order to allow time for the mercenary forces to act on our offer of surrender. When this deadline arrives all Novajev military assets that have not offered their surrender will be considered ‘fair game’ and our military assets will be allowed unrestricted engagement of all Novajev military assets in preparation for a amphibious landing.

Kilrany Foreign Affairs Minister
Pavel Kasatikin

-----

Somewhere inside Sigriogrosk, a large Kilrany city some two hundred kilometers Southwest from the capitol, a small unassuming office building served as a cover for a section of the 5th Division’s intelligence branch. In this building a large number of analyst worked under the careful supervision of 5th Division Intelligence officers.

While a number of these buildings existed throughout Kilrany, each was dedicated to specific sections of their intelligence network; this one in particular had a part of the staff looking into the entire Novajev incident. Ten analysts and two 5th Division intelligence officers were all that could be assigned to this particular action, a small team, but they were not reviewing active military positions on the island. Quite the contrary, they were sifting through mountains of reports and surveillance data on Novajev and their connection to the FLRJ going back five years. Their intent was to attempt to figure out why they missed the build up of forces and the sudden apparent grab for power, along with what seemed to be a radical shift in Admiral Rinat Ekster’s personality that would have had him open fire on Kilrany naval assets.

Included in this data were recordings of radar returns for the entire time that Ninth Fleet had been on station South of Novajev. However because of the sheer amount of data that was still accumulating, it was currently near the bottom of the list of priorities for them to check.

There was a knock on the door. The Brigadier looked up from his cramped quarters behind his desk.

“Enter.” A naval officer entered, saluted then stood rigid at attention. “What is it boy?”

“Message as requested sir. From the Kilrany.” He stepped forward and placed it in the open hand.

“That will be all.” With those words the officer saluted and left the quarters. The General read over the message, and read a second to endure he didn’t miss anything. He picked up the phone and sped dialed the Captain’s room. There was an answer.

“Captain Speaking.”

“This is Wolfe, I need a helicopter, and a naval liaison officer to accompany to the Kilrany vessel for thirteen hundred hours. Not sure how long we will be.”

“Of course Sir.” The General hung up then looked around his cabin and grumbled. He picked his peak cap up from his coat rack and left the room. Headed for the flight deck, in his hand a locked brief case filled with papers that might be required at the meeting. He also packed a side arm, a Glock 39, standard pistol of all commissioned officers.

When he finally reached the deck, a Sikorsky CH-53 Super Stallion heavy lift helicopter was warming up its engines near the back. Nearby stood the Captain, the Rear Admiral, and what looked like the XO.

“General, did you have no intention of informing me about using one of my helicopters?”

“I believe this is the Captain’s boat, there for no. You aren’t a higher rank then me lady, I don’t report to you.”

“I know you don’t but this is my task fleet so everything is mine. Apart from your tanks and men.”

“Oh yes that’s right.” And the General pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket all crumpled, and handed it to the Admiral.

“What’s this?”

“Official orders from the Defense Board for you to hand over control of your marines, they are going ashore with my tanks if I need them.”

“You could have just asked, I would have done it anyway Wolfe, I care more for the mission then holding a grudge against you.”

“Glad to hear it, but I really should be off.” He looked at the captain. “Is this the officer coming with me?”

“Yes sir, he’s my XO.”

“Fine fine. Let’s get a move on. He walked to the helicopter and stepped up the ladder, the XO hot on his heels, the aircrew man closing the door. The pilot saluted the deck crew commander, and then lifted off the deck, in the sky two AH-1W Super Cobras hovered ready to follow. They made their way towards the Kilrany position. When in radio contact the pilot opened up a channel.

“Commonwealth flight Echo Niner India inbound to Kilrany vessel, Requesting permission to land. Brigadier General Jacob Wolfe onboard.”

not quite as detailed as i want, but being rushed too, this will have to suffice for the time being.

HMS Majestic

Hamilton nodded, rubbing his palms while his staff intelligence officer pointed out the various capital ships pinpointed by the Admiralty's radar-equipped ocean reconnaissance satellites. As the UK had never before interacted with the various states along the Morye neither he nor the whole Royal Navy had much data about the capabilities of the participants. "Bloody intelligence," he muttered to himself.

"Sir?"

"Nothing, Commander," Hamilton responded, allowing his attention to refocus upon the concentration of naval firepower in the large sea and the strait. Although the Admiralty had communicated to him that the Foreign Office had secured limited cooperation, he was wary of passing through a strait held by potentially hostile powers. Hostile powers about whom he knew nothing.

He reviewed in his head the brief communication from Georgetown earlier that day, "cooperation is in our best interest." At least so had been the Kilrany reply as relayed by the Admiralty. Not always the purest filter of information he mused to himself.

As his staff officer finished with the details of the Delesian deployment, Hamilton pushed his palms flat upon the plotting table. "Now that we have the disposition of our colleagues and opponents I should like to begin organising a strategy by which we will transit the Strait and make our presence known in the Morye."

"Have we made contact with the Kilrany theatre commander?" asked one of the staff officers.

Hamilton shook his head. "Not yet, Anthony. I would rather us have a solid plan to present him before coming with cap in hand requesting permission to sail into their backyard. Would you like the Kilrany sailing through the Straits of Caliz, guns at the ready, without any detailed information about their plans?"

"No, sir, I daresay I would not like them sailing through the Straits at all."

"I imagine in that regard we and the Kilrany think alike." Hamilton did not doubt that the sudden interest in this tiny island was wholly unnerving to what seemed a nation rather content in its relative isolation. If his task force was to operate successfully he would need the cooperation of his Kilrany counterpart. "Do we have any solid intel on the air power on either side of the Strait?" Hamilton continued.

"Negative, sir. ORNI has identified several large airfields and what they presume to be missile fields–but nothing concrete. And even if veritable targets, their relative importance could be wholly misinterpreted."

"When was the last time ORNI ever misinterpreted something," another junior officer added dryly.

Hamilton smirked and with a wave of his hand dismissed the banter. "So if we know they can watch us and engage us we simply need to let them know that we know they can do just that. While we would be sailing into a combat zone, I would like us to keep a minimal CAP so as not to alarm any party–but make sure that any detailed satellite photographs relate that we have fighters on alert for immediate launch."

"How strict should we be in terms of EMCON, Admiral?" the task force's air commander inquired. "I should them rather be in the dark about the full capabilities of our fighters and airborne surveillance systems."

"I concur, George," Hamilton replied quickly. "Low power radiation for your surveillance. We do not need to be snooping too intrusively into their airspace. Similarly," he turned to address his anti-air and anti-surface commanders, "I think we can do without radiating most of our ships–save of course navigational systems. I do want anti-air cruisers on alert, however, and radar ready to light up the moment we detect anything. ECM, too. We may be cooperating now, but that may not hold tomorrow or the day after."

Northwest of Chilkov, Novajev

In the middle of pulling himself up a ledge, Rodney heard the not-so-distant clamour of the Kilrany naval bombardment. Registering the event for what it was, he quickly pulled himself up and signaled his men to stop so he could pull out his field glasses and observe for himself what was happening to the south. "Not bad," he muttered to himself. For a brief second the thought of the men like himself trying to vacate the base entered his mind. He quickly pushed it out. "Keep moving," he voiced.

During the night he had received an update–critical only because he had been entrusted to manoeuvre with no interference from headquarters. For some reason or other, he was now "cooperating" with Kilrany special forces located elsewhere on the island. Except that their presence was to prepare for a broader Kilrany invasion of Novajev. He and his men were still alone. But the sooner they got to the intersection, the sooner they could hopefully find something of value.

Foreign Office
Georgetown, United Kingdom

Gavin Astley quietly reviewed the intelligence files prepared for him by the Royal Intelligence Service. While information had similarly been collected and prepared by the Ministry of Defence's own intelligence service and the Royal Navy's, all had been conveniently compiled for the Kilrany consumption by the RIS. Probably better they not come to understand the ridiculous and archaic inter-service rivalries he thought to himself while a piece of classical music played in the background.

Truthfully, he cared not for the music–but it was a gift and he felt obligated to play it, at least just once. He similarly did not care much for Oceanian involvement in Novajev. The United Kingdom was having enough difficulty fulfilling its imperial policing role and did not now need to divert its attention to assisting another empire in its own policing.

He assembled the last of the electronic documents to be sent and signaled for his secretary to enter and get them out as soon as possible.

Secure Communication
To Pavel Kasatikin
Foreign Affairs Minister
Kilrany Empire


His Majesty's Government should like to thank the Imperial Kilrany Government for its swift and positive response to our request for a cooperative effort in returning a state of normalcy to Novajev. Attached to this communication will be copies of the latest information obtained by various means.

To further the spirit of cooperation, I am authorised to inform you that at this moment a small task force of 45 ships is en route to Novajev to assist in the restoration of order. While the ships will continue towards Novajev, all offensive operations will be suspended until a proper and coordinated course of action can be agreed upon by the appropriate commanders.

Currently Oceanian knowledge of Novajev is limited. Such limitations explain the lack of detailed analyses of the raw data collected in the Novajev theatre. As such, any detailed information that the Kilrany intelligence service can provide will be most appreciated.

Gavin Astley,
Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs
United Kingdom of Oceania

Attached to the communication were digital copies of the scraps and remnants found by Rodney and his team around the farmhouse. Also included, Rodney's thoughts that the Novajev National Army could not have been raised from Novajev. Additionally, the analysis included those conclusions drawn by General Howard. Namely that the Novajev conflict was but a proxy war being waged by a yet-unknown but probably regional third party.

The Office of Royal Navy Intelligence, meanwhile, provided a small piece of information from the HMS Clement that could not be entirely substantiated, but similarly not entirely dismissed. While running silent off the northeast coast she had detected a single instance of a transient noise. Reported by Captain Moore, the Admiralty was hesitant to link the noise to any action in particular and so included it as "potential" evidence.

St. Myhre, Delesa
Parliament, House of Commons

“Now why in the bloody hell are we interfering with the Kilrany’s issues?” shouted one of the men from the Liberal’s side. Prime Minister Lester Geddie looked up, he knew who it was who shouted. He always did.

“Mr. Douglas, may I remind you that the Commonwealth is no longer bound by an isolated foreign policy, and we should help friends in time of need. Do I have to remind you also that we don’t have a great track record of civil peace. In our time of need, we have always needed help. The United Kingdom has been there for us before, but what about next time? We can’t rely on their help. We must make peace with more nation abroad.”

“Prime Minister! We already have Peacekeepers committed to once of that country’s seemingly endless problems. Why do we need to commit actual combat troops to a hot zone?”

“Keep you voice down, no need to yell. I will tell you once more and only once Mr. Douglas, we need friends that we can rely on. You think Kilrany will trust us if we don’t prove ourselves?”

“Sorry Prime Minister, but in one of the latest reports, the Kilrany is oppressive, they are cruel and inhumane. People disappear when this… ‘Fifth Division’ is called upon. You can not possibly hope to call these men ‘friends’.”

“Oh yes? I hope your not making false accusations. Who published this report? Sure as hell wasn’t the CIA? Maybe the Majesty’s Secret Service? No because you don’t have that authority. So who published that report? How come I have never seen it? I run this country, and I damn well know what goes on with my intelligence agencies. So shut your mouth unless you give me real proof Mr. Douglas.”

Mr. Douglas remained quiet; his face filled with anger and whispered something to the man seated next to him. He was beat for the moment but he would have his justice eventually.

“Now does anyone else dare to question what the majority of you have voted to do? Remember people, we be friendly if we ever expect help in the future. Kilrany forces seem capable of fighting, even if they seem to resent foreigners, just as if our troops would free if they were getting help from another nation.” The MPs remained quiet; whispers were all that could be heard. That and the clinging of ice from various drinks served to keep the chamber relatively in control and bearable. “Good then, United we Stand.”

“United we stand.”

Prime Minister’s Office

“What a bloody gong show. I ought to have the MSS sweep that man up and shoot him.” Lester chuckled as he took a much-needed drink of whiskey. He didn’t drink in public, a suggestion from the PR (Public Relations) department in an attempt to preserve his image. Several men were assembled in the room, Former Head General of the Commonwealth Armed Forces, now Defense Minister Gordon Brigman, Director of the CIA Arthur Snipes, Administrator David Barron of the MSS, Foreign Affairs Minister Chase Surreal, General Adam Gerardo, Admiral Victor Hollis, and finally Sky Marshall William Popes.

“I think he has a point, why commit troops to this bullshit fight? I’m sure the polls will take a hit.” Commented Chase Surreal.

“We need to send a clear message to the people of the Commonwealth, mostly the colonies, and the world, the Commonwealth isn’t to be taken lightly. We have a extremely capable army, and it’s sitting hear on their asses getting fatter with the tax payers money. If we send the message the people will actually support the mobilization and increase us in the polls.” The Prime Minister said.

“Not to mention this is a good time to test some of the new toys D4 Industries has given us.” General Gerardo spoke with great enthusiasm.

“Aye, it’s about bloody time my boy’s shot something out of the air. For god’s sake for the past 10 years it’s always been a ground support mission, haven’t shot down a plane in any sortie in those years. I’ve lost too much moral.”

“Well do these bastards even have an air force?” Gordon asked the two intelligence men in the room. The two looked at each other.

“Up until the news from Kilrany came over the wire, we never even heard of this blasted country. We have no agents in the country or even the close area. We would have to send in a new team. That would take time and the paper work is somewhere on it’s way here for your signature Prime Minister for approval.” Replied the Director.

“I believe my colleague summed it up quite well.” Nodded Administrator Barron, “Although my office did turn up some information upon our deployment to Khurzav, but was deemed unrelated and a small standard file kept. Nothing of importance Prime Minister.” Lester looked shocked.

“You’re telling me now, after the fleet has been assembled and already arrived that we don’t have proper intelligence on this country and it’s armed capability? You men call yourselves leaders of intelligence?” the two hung their heads.

“Well we do know that their prime force, or our biggest threat comes not from the natives, but mercenary forces. It’s hard to gather intelligence on that sort of operation. They could be from anywhere, having any sort of training. We just don’t have the time to do a proper investigation.”

“What about troop deployment, numbers, equipment?” Asked the Prime Minister. They remained quiet. “God damn you. What do you get paid for?”

“Sir, if I may offer a bit of voice, satellite imaging could take care of that stuff. With the new hardware launched recently we will have no trouble when the commanding officer requires that kind of information. The Air Force had taken care of that problem for you.” The Sky Marshall spoke with a bit of pride.

“Still, this is poor planning on the defense board’s part. I want you to contact Kilrany, find out who the hell is also involved in this operation, all the bad guys and good guys. I want to know which countries we are dealing with, any allies. Also see what they have for intel, and if my blasted CIA is up to it, insert a team to gather numbers and strength. I don’t want them to know how bloody unprepared we truly are.” Lester was about to beat down his intelligence with curses and harsh words but he had done the necessary damage.

“Prime Minister, we have a team ready at al time, we will drop them by sea, less detectable. News is that Novajev has no navy hence tracking abilities will be hampered. A good plan and they won’t know a thing.”

“Fine, that’s enough for one day, you have driven my blood pressure too high already. Out, Gordon you stay we need to talk.”

http://spaam.mrdrake.net/flags/delesa.png >< http://spaam.mrdrake.net/flags/kilrany.png

To Pavel Kasatikin, The Empire of Kilrany
From Minister Chase Surreal, The United Commonwealth of Delesa

The United Commonwealth requests of the Empire any information concerning intelligence operations in the theatre of operation in and around Novajev that can be released to the Commonwealth to ensure on going security of Delesian forces.

We understand that it is a possibility that no information could be released, although we are informing you that in preparation of possible conflict involving the Commonwealth forces, we are activating an Intelligence and Recon Team (IRT) and inserting it into the region. Identities to remain confidential due to security measures listed in the CIA and MSS code of conduct and operations Section 78 Sub-section 9.

Awaiting your response;
*Signed*
Minister Chase Surreal, Foreign Affairs
*Signed*
Prime Minister Lester Geddie

1135
Guryev - Kuznetsov Class carrier

“Sir, we have managed to complete the satellite uplink. We have secure communication stations manned and operational and we have SatInt reports being sorted now.” The matrose saluted before about facing and leaving the office.

The admiral slowly sorted through the unit listings and equipment manifests on his computer. Although the Kilrany had limited the number of ships allowed in port at any one time originally they had allowed the damaged ships to dock without any restrictions. In an attempt to keep the Kilrany happy all non-damaged vessels had been moved out of the harbour and had taken up positions to the west of Novajev where they were waiting for new orders after the unexpected Kilrany bombardment of the mercenaries.

The fleet had been resupplied when the reinforcements had arrived, which was a great help, nearly all the ships now had full weapon load outs and had received replacements for both the battle damage and the more normal wear and tear. He was busy reading through an intelligence report detailing possible landing points for military invasions when a knock sounded from his door.

“Enter.” He spoke, putting the report back down on his desk as he looked up.

A young ensign entered, carrying a signal sheet, signifying an important message that should be printed out rather than trusted to memory alone.
“Sir, we have received a message from the Kilrany.” He handed the sheet to the admiral and moved backwards two paces before standing at ease, waiting to be dismissed.

The admiral quickly read through the message, before looking back up to the ensign.
“Send a message in reply saying that I will attend this meeting and tell them that unless they have any objections I will bring a pair of intelligence analysts and my assistant.”

The ensign nodded, saluted and then left the room, executing the orders as was expected.

The admiral picked up the phone,
“Vladik, get the two most senior intelligence analysts, make them collect all the relevant SatInt data and meet me at the helipad.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Contact the onboard spetznaz, tell them that I require a bodyguard for this and if possible any of their men that are experienced aircrew. Oh, organise a Helix to transport me and the others to the Fiery Dawn, the Kilrany flagship. We have to arrive for 1300. Get it done would you?” He placed the phone down on its cradle before turning back to the reports and sighing as he began to read again.

Under the command of Captain (First Class) N.E. Shapov, Group Vienna numbered fourteen surface combatants. It was enroute to join the remainder of Force E, mustering off the Eastern Coast of the Russkyan homeland in order to support operations on the Stovakian Peninsula. It would be forced to transit the Zuiderzee Strait, and the plotted course brought them within visual range of the Oceanian fleet.

Under EMCON so as not to signal intentions to the Me'i, who could never be trusted when it came to Russkyan movements, the air volume radar very gently, very softly probed the sky. The pair of Hornby-class CVL(N) carriers were cycling an air combat patrol who operated with their radars off, pilots ready to turn them to full power at the order from Aviation Operations Commander, the AOC being the "Air Boss" equivalent. The surface search radars were off, as were other systems. A doubled watch complement stood to on all vessels as prows painted in "Ship's Grey, Surface Combatant, Shade 52" sliced through cold grey-blue water.

Standing on the bridge of RNV-831 Norseman, K1 Shapov simply rested his hands on the weather rail and looked out over the bow of his highly powerful battleship. The covers over the muzzles of the large naval rifles forward and aft of the superstructure were painted with the national insignia, the two-headed eagle and golden rune, ensconced on the center black field. To Norseman's port-stern, RNV-832 Aegir sailed, the sister ship to Norseman's magnificience. A signal lamp on one of the picquets, a Daurmont ASW destroyer, flashed a message to the large Project 1269-class warship. The signals officer on duty stepped up behind Shapov.

"Sir. Message from the Tcherkassy. She reports picquets have sighted Oceanian fleet."
"Very good. Send message to Oceanian fleet: "Regards from Force Vienna commander. Request, all courtesies, you inform Kilrany allies that island of Novajev to not disappear under weight of their attack, Central Seas Fleet will appreciate Novajevan port of call remaining. Further, special regards to Oceanian fleet commander. Taskforce Samoilev will permit you to come to no harm from Me'ei interference." Send immediately to Tcherkassy, she is to relay to Oceanian fleet."
"Of course sir."

The signals officer turned on his heel and wrote the message onto a message pad. This pad was then handed to the signal lamp operator who aimed his lamp at the Tcherkassy, depressed the power switch, and using the twin triggers to close the shutters and thus hide the light momentarily, began to transmit the message to the Daurmont-class destroyer.

On the Tcherkassy, the signalman who relayed the message to the Oceanian fleet smiled at the sheer cheek of the message. He centered one of their ships in his signal-lamp's sights again, and relayed the message once more. He would have to do that until the foreign fleet confirmed reciept of the message, or they sailed over the horizon.

Upon the primary display, Admiral Roerich glanced down at the grouping of friendly symbols away to their Southeast, now well near a hundred kilometers away, making slowly towards a military port North of Plovdiv on the East coast of Kilrany. The damaged ships of Ninth fleet, still under the command of Admiral Renatus from her own damaged flagship, the Fiery Dawn headed to the smaller port rather then the expansive facilities of Trinaga far to the South first in hopes of saving the crippled Kirov.

While the Fiery Dawn was by no means so badly damaged as to have demanded removal from the area, it had been decided by the Kilrany fleet commanders to pull it out for repairs regardless. This was no slight for Renatus however, as her force was not intended for amphibious assault operations, Admiral Roerich would have been placed in command regardless due to the change in mission parameters. It was now from Roerich’s flagship, the KIN Relentless, a KIAM Revenge class fleet carrier that the Kilrany forces were commanded from and the meeting between the various officers was requested to plan out an assault on Novajev.

Having received word from both the Delesian and Diggledom fleets that they would attend the requested assembly, preparations were being made to receive the foreign personnel. Up on the deck of the carrier, just outside the rear hatchway leading out of the warship’s tower, a pair of 5th Division intelligence officers waited, next to each was a pair of fully armed and equipped Kilrany naval infantry.

Their role was simply to escort each ‘delegation’ to a conference room located within the tower, well away from any restricted portions of the large carrier. It was an almost mirror scene from over a year before when Relentless had been operating near the FLRJ and a Russkyan liaison officer was to arrive to coordinate between the two nations forces. However in this case both the Delesian and Diggledom officers were set to arrive by aircraft and neither 5th Division operatives had been on the large vessel at that time.

Roerich however had no intention of attending the meeting, deeming it redundant for her to do so as General Mulyavin would be as he was the commander of the ground forces in her amphibious warfare fleet. Due in large part because the Novajev navy was no non-existent as far as they could tell, the role of her task forces warships and aircraft were only now here to support the naval infantry in their landing. To facilitate this, she had ordered one of her aides to sit in.

While there was a bevy of activity around the carrier and the task force, mostly from the fleet’s Kamov anti-submarine warfare helicopters and the handful of airborne early warning variants, the Delesian aircraft was quickly given permission to land on the aft of the carrier’s deck. Upon their arrival, the Diggledom would in turn receive a similar, rapid clearance to land and be escorted to the conference room in question.

In keeping with the Kilrany’s natural sense of paranoia however, a pair of the naval infantry’s Mi-28 attack helicopters flew about near the carrier; launched from one of the fleet’s amphibious assault ships, their intent was to keep an eye on the foreign helicopters in a manner much more effective then the carrier’s fixed wing fighters could. Though their original design had not called for naval use, KIAM had seen to it that the beloved attack helicopters were modified to accommodate the requests of the naval infantry.

-----

It was not a quick task for Minister Kasatikin to go through the latest series of dossiers and their associated information; a great deal of data had been acquired by 5th Division on the island of Novajev and its inhabitants, though how much would be of use to the Delesian and Azazia governments, he wasn’t sure. Even so he felt that 5th Division had no doubt left out a few details, what he couldn’t put it finger on, but his long dealings with them gave him the experience to know they were often left out little pieces of information to those they felt didn’t need to know.

Included in each message sent to both the Delesa and Azazia was a compilation of data acquired over the years on Novajev by 5th Division. A great deal of it came from before the entire incident began and was of questionable worth, of which this mostly included the standing power of the Novajev National Police Force and the number of ships and their complement within the Novajev Navy.

More useful information was among the data however; including detailed geological studies of the island, construction reports on various important structures such as the bridges and the port system on the Southwest. Additionally there were intelligence briefs on various high level Novajev naval officers, including Admiral Rinat Ekster, in which it included a physiological evaluation, which in turn indicated that he was moderately intelligent and fairly bold.

As a final addition to the package, 5th Division had included force estimates and compositions of the ‘Novajev National Army’, in which they also attempted to substantiate for the Azazia that the force was made up of mercenaries assembled from the foreign volunteers left in the FLRJ after their civil war. For the Delesa, this section of the data would only confirm the Kilrany belief that they were a mercenary force.

Force estimates by the Kilrany indicated a two battalion strong military organization with what they figured to be between nine hundred and sixty to twelve hundred combat personnel broken up into mechanized, motorized and light infantry elements. An attempt was made to figure in potential casualties suffered so far, but it was pure supposition and noted as such. Additional notes indicated that Kilrany observation had only noted a support force more practical for a military organization half the size present. Speculation by Kilrany analysts was also noted on this subject; possibly the Novajev believed they did not need as many support personnel due to the island’s small size, they had been intending to bring more, or that perhaps not all the mercenaries were intended to remain long.

Estimates were also made on the number of anti-air and anti-ship missiles left in the area on the island, but like the full numbers of their combat personnel, it was also mostly supposition, as the mercenaries knew how to hide well from satellite surveillance.

In regards to the Azazia, specifically their mention of picking up a transient noise to the North of Novajev, which had been viewed with doubt by some analysts; though unable to simply ignore it, was explained, at least to the Azazia, as most likely being a Diggledom submarine, one of which had attacked Novajev naval vessels in the North. This was not however the consensus, but it was what they sent in response to it, keeping other speculation to them selves.

Pavel was correct however in his suspicion that 5th Division had left some things out; most notable was the existence and location of an underground command bunker beneath the capitol city of Anjukov. Their hope was to see to it that Ekster was taken in by the Kilrany, and no one else. Also left out was the existence of the Novajev Marines, though this was more of an oversight due to their small size; being only a platoon in strength, and the belief they had gone down aboard the Novajev naval vessels; usually being stationed aboard them for interdiction operations.

Sealed Diplomatic Communiqué

To: Gavin Astley,
Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs
United Kingdom of Oceania

You’re appreciation is welcome and we hope this facilitates further cooperation in the long run. I have added our own documentation of Novajev in the hopes it will be of some use to you.

Our naval command has placed one Admiral Anna Roerich in charge of operations in and around Novajev, I suggest that upon your task forces arrive to the theater of operations you contact the Admiral to work out a plan of action.

Kilrany Foreign Affairs Minister
Pavel Kasatikin

Sealed Diplomatic Communiqué

To: Chase Surreal,
Minister of Foreign Affairs
United Commonwealth of Delesa

It is my pleasure to inform you that we can indeed send you a great deal of information on Novajev, which I have included with this message. Additionally we have no problem with you deploying your own operations group, but we must inform you that it may began to get ‘crowded’, as we have been informed that other nations have inserted, or are preparing to insert their own operations groups.

Kilrany Foreign Affairs Minister
Pavel Kasatikin

-----

Tatiana scanned the forest around her to her right carefully from her position as second in the column while the eight-man 5th Division section made its way South through a large, somewhat horseshoe shaped forest just West of hill 267, which itself was just West of Sedovkja. While their progress through the night had been intentionally slow, their progress now through the day was almost painfully so, moving at a snails pace through the light underbrush. This was by no means because of a lack of field craft, quite the contrary, 5th Division was one of the only Kilrany military units capable of rivaling the Russkyans in a wooded environment, instead this was out of simple patience and caution, unwilling to be seen yet by any mercenary patrols still about.

As they approached within thirty meters of the tree line a quick pair of static bursts sounded out in her ear from her personal role radio, indicating that their point man wanted their attention and risked a quick double tap on his transmitter key. Looking fully forward she could see his right hand up in a hold position order before he followed with an order to spread out into a line and approach the edge of the forest. Moving to the right of the point man, Tatiana went low and like the rest of the small unit carefully crawled within five meters of the tree line; the undergrowth was just dense enough for them to be hidden from all but the keenest observer.

Through the brush they could easily see their current target for observation; a small farming complex enclosed in a chain link fence taking up roughly two hundred square meters within the nearly three hundred square meter field. Obviously designed primarily for storage, six warehouses sat side by side on the East side of the grassless ground within the fence line, nearby were a number of various pieces of equipment including two bailers. Only a single dirt path snaked out of the compound Westward toward a paved main road, which itself cut through another slightly smaller forest.

Satellite surveillance had picked up the site but had been unable to discern anything from and overhead angle, thus it had been placed on one of the many objectives to investigate. Now present in person however, they could see a number of well-camouflaged slit trenches set up around the compound; the quality of the camouflage work spoke volumes to the 5th Division operatives to the field craft of men who made up the mercenary force. Concerned suddenly that they may have walked into a minefield, Tatiana gave the area around her an intense study, wondering where the mines were that should have been out protecting this position, seeing none, she thought for a moment that it was perhaps one of their new positions.

To her left she could barely hear the faint voice of her section commander five meters away, “What do you think, new garrison point, listening post, launch position?”

Replying to the question was their sniper’s observer, “Hard to tell, not a lot of movement and those buildings could house just about anything. I don’t see any antennae though for it to be a listening post, do you?

“No … alright then, Mikhail, take note of this position, we’ll watch it for a short while and see if anything happens.”

In her mind she could picture Mikhail, yet another member of the section carefully pulling out a small notebook and taking note of the position to their front with a pencil. If anyone knew his personal code they would have read his little notation as follows, ‘Hostile position identified, Delta-Hotel-three-zero’.

As they waited, they heard off in the distance the deep thunder of large caliber artillery striking a target to their East. They recognized it immediately as they were aware of the planned bombardment of several key positions on the East coast of Novajev by the navy’s Poseidens.

Slowly, as they watched the compound before them with the occasional small movement of a mercenary moving about, or coming out to look East towards the fading sound of naval artillery, twenty minutes passed. It was then, when the sound of the artillery had completely faded that a disturbance broke out somewhere in the compound.

At first it was only shouting and from their distance they could only make out the raised tones; it concerned them though, briefly thinking this force was about to move out. Suddenly two pops rang out from the compound, which they recognized as gunfire, only to quickly be followed by several more and even more shouting as mercenaries ran out of several buildings weapons at the ready, apparently thinking they were under attack.

Moments later the rumble of a diesel engine drowned out the shouting as an unseen vehicle came to life, which only concerned the small team more so, leading one to pull free his disposable RPG and their sniper with the VSSK to ready his weapon. As they lay there with their weapons ready an unarmed MTLB came rolling out from a hidden position, pieces of bushes used to camouflage it fell off as it traveled and they could see a number of antennae on the boxy little armoured vehicle denoted it as most likely being a command vehicle.

As it began to move away towards the entrance of the compound, shouting could once again be heard over the din of the diesel engine. The shouting was once again drowned out though by the unexpected burst of fire from what sounded like a GPMG, apparently at the fleeing MTLB. Tatiana raised an eyebrow curiously at the scene before them as yet another burst was fired into the vehicle, this one apparently more successful as it came slowly to a halt and idled near the gate.

“We need to move on, Mikhail, break silence and report this, let them know they should keep an eye on this position.”

Tatiana didn’t hear him give an acknowledgement or send the message, risking being detected by any nearby Novajev listening posts, but moments later the order came to back away slowly into the woods before standing and leaving the area. It was not so much that they feared a break in their encryption, but they knew that no matter how tight-beam a signal they sent, there was a possibility of it being detected, and if the Novajev had enough listening posts they could triangulate their position and hunt them down; assuming of course their wavering mercenary forces would follow the order.

The helicopter transporting the admiral was only slightly modified from the base design, a KA-32 Helix. The interior had been left relatively intact, with most of the modifications being to the flight controls and computing equipment and replacing the engine with a Diggledom designed and manufactured version. The crew were all members of the naval spetznaz; they had managed to find a pilot among the spetznaz onboard, so he had received a brief refresher course on the Helix before being pressed into service as the pilot. The co-pilot had less experience flying a helicopter, having once done a series of emergency piloting courses in case of accidents, but it was the most any of the other spetznaz had received so he had become the co-pilot.

It wasn’t so much that Diggledom didn’t trust the Kilrany, more that they were reluctant to trust anyone with the lives of several of their higher ranking military commanders. In the end the helicopter was transporting Admiral Kurzev, Lieutenant Colonel Johnson, Major Seymour and two intelligence specialists, Pierce and Bishop. So if the helicopter was downed and the occupants killed a large proportion of the local command structure would be paralysed, something that was to be avoided if at all possible.

The helicopter quickly crossed the sea heading towards the Kilrany flagship, following the directions of the Kilrany ATC who carefully monitored their position in case of any emergency occurring. The pilot was slightly surprised to see the pair of Kilrany Mi-28’s circling, but passed them off for what they were, extra insurance, there if needed.

As the helicopter approached the landing site the spetznaz prepared for the landing. One of the door gunners slid the paper-back he had been reading back into his thigh pocket before donning his combat vest again and leaning around the gun, peering out towards the rapidly approaching Kilrany fleet carrier. The two spetznaz assigned to the staff as bodyguards had a slightly more worrying routine they each followed.

First they checked that their assault vests were adjusted, fitting snugly, without any movement when they twisted and turned, both standing up and sitting down. They then checked through their sidearm’s, fully collapsed MP-7’s, cocking them and applying the safeties before returning them to their specially designed thigh holsters. Then came the most unusual item in their load-outs, their HK-416’s, unlike normally when an assault rifle would be too bulky to use in the close confines of a ship they had 10.5” barrels, small enough to effectively use in the closed environment, as their training had proven on more than one occasion. Each had a holographic sight mounted along the top rail of the rifle which was checked before the rifles were both cocked and safeties applied and the rifle slung across the operative’s front in a tactical sling.

While the spetznaz went through their slightly ominous routine checking their weapons and equipment the rest of the passengers prepared for the landing. This simply meant collecting all the briefing equipment together in their packs and checking that their ship board dress, black coveralls all round, with rank markings on the shoulder, had all the buttons done and zips closed.

The helicopter touched down as gently as a feather, surprising the pilot as much as anyone else. The first out of the door was one of the spetznaz operators, immediately checking the area around the helicopter for anything suspicious or anything that appeared out of place. As soon as he was satisfied he nodded towards the helicopter, prompting the passengers to quickly clamber out, heading towards the welcome party, pointed out by one of the engineers that had moved forwards to refuel the helicopter.

As the helicopter blades spun down behind them they approached the Kilrany welcoming party.
“Do you have any objection to the two bodyguards accompanying us to the meeting?” Lieutenant Colonel Johnson asked as he approached the two 5th division intelligence operatives.

The distinctive sounds of shovels digging in the earth surrounded Wassily Vrubel and filled his ears as he himself dug into the earth with his own entrenching tool. His heavy FN MAG sat on its bipod along with most of his equipment on the ground just within arms reach as he helped dig a new slit trench on the Southeast of Khlishev. Immediately next to him was one of his section mates and friends, a Russkyan by the name of Dmitar Bojanevich Cvijic, his HK-416 with attached M203; which looked suspiciously like an M4, hung by its tactical sling on his back. They were part of a mechanized platoon ordered to set up defenses around the crossroad and ensure its protection, their Lieutenant was from the FLRJ and had little interest in returning home, much like the liaison officer at the airfield.

Vrubel grumbled lightly to himself as he continued to dig, he had never expected to find himself here after he had chose to volunteer for service in the FLRJ in their foreign brigade. Not more then twenty-four years old now, he thought of his decision only two years earlier to fight for the Republicans a foolish idealistic mistake. It hadn’t taken him long to realize just how foolhardy his choice had been and to see that the Republicans and Fascists were very similar, though he refused to leave at the time after having agreed to do his job. Only a month ago, not long after he had finally decided to leave the FLRJ and return home that he had caught wind of this ‘opportunity’; he almost spit at that word now, to sign on to this mercenary force for a year and earn a substantial paycheck before finally returning to Kilrany.

He cursed under his breath then looked over at Cvijic and spoke in a low tone, “This is fucking suicide Dmitar, do you want to stick it out with these fools and die trying to fight my own countrymen’s damned military?”

It had only been because he knew Cvijic well enough that he asked this question, having known the Serbian turned Russkyan citizen for some time now even from the FLRJ, “Fuck no, I’ve seen these fools fight, I don’t intend to die with them.”

Here he referred to the fact that the majority of the platoon they were in was formed up by men from the FLRJ and some nations outside the SFR, men who had no intention of surrendering to the Kilrany. “Yeah … so what the hell are we going to do about it? I’d kill the bastard but that’s not about to help us.”

He shrugged lightly, “Wait for night. Hope we don’t get shelled. If the moon’s not bright, slipping away will be easier.”

Vrubel didn’t stop digging but he gave a sideways look at his compatriot, “Best bet I guess. We shouldn’t get shelled here, not so close by the village, not yet anyway and not by my people. They wont shell this place unless they had no option, they don’t want to destroy the road.” He let out a scornful grunt, “Never thought I’d have to worry about being on the receiving end of my own God damned people’s weapon’s fire.” He paused for a moment, continuing to dig, “tonight then, if we yet live, should be able to get a few more, Emil, Aram and Richard I know for sure don’t want to stick around. Should be able to quietly get word to them. What do you think, should we try and make Northwest? Mountain will make it tougher, but running into anyone should be less likely.”

"We go up into the mountains. Stay near a stream and we have a source of water. Take Aram if we can, four men may be perceived as a... legitimate patrol group, let's say. And we need to nick the idiot's map, if we can."

Vrubel was careful not to nod his head and have it appear as though they were conspiring, though they were, “Good. Aram shouldn’t be hard to talk to once we’re done here; he’s just on the North side helping dig in one of the BMPs. I’ll make like I’m getting a cigarette from him, nothing new there. I’ll let you talk to Emil and Richard when they’re done over there,” here he referred to two others digging not ten meters from them, “Richard might even be able to get in to pilfer the map. After that we wait for dark.”

“Then for dark.”

-----

Viktoria watched intently as the Diggledom helicopter came in for a pinpoint landing on the aft end of the Relentless’ flight deck from under the brim of her helmet, watching for any signs of deception. Standing to the right and behind the right most 5th Division operative in his full black uniform and body armour, his sword and sheath quite visible to her from behind him, in her hands she held an RK8 Lapinkoira chambered for 7.62x39mm.

The alertness of the first Diggledom to exit the helicopter was an obvious sign to her that the man was mostly likely an escort. She remained quiet as the procession approached them and asked about bodyguards over the din of the active carrier. It was the other 5th Division operative to the left of the one before her that replied, shorter then ‘her’ operative, he was however broader at the shoulders.

The operatives voice was calm and even and did not change as he spoke, “If you feel it necessary to bear arms aboard this vessels then we have no objection to it, it is understandable that you might feel insecure without them. If that is all then please follow me.”

She watched them then, had there been no further words needed the operative would silently escort the Diggledom contingent in through the hatchway behind them with his two Naval Infantry in tow. Arriving at the conference room they would find a reasonably large room with a single wooden table capable of seating twelve people with only Admiral Roerich’s representative officer present yet in his black naval uniform stood near corner with a small table and coffee pot; numerous mugs sat about.

Still standing there on deck Viktoria continued to wait behind her 5th Division operative for the Delesian aircraft to land.

The Diggledom officers thanked the 5th Division officer that had spoken before obediently falling into line behind him as he snaked his way through the innards of the ship. The two naval spetznaz carefully remembering their way as far as possible, keeping a paranoid eye out for any sign of approaching violence. The spetznaz man at the front of the column of Diggleonians fairly openly checked out the weapons and equipment of the 5th division operative and the two naval infantry, before being forced to acknowledge that if the Kilrany wished violence then there was very little that the small force onboard could do to prevent it. He relaxed slightly upon this realisation, if they already could have done it and wanted to, they would have.

The 5th division operative opened the door to the conference room, gesturing for the small following he had received to enter. As each of the people passed him they thanked him for the directions, the higher ranks thanking him formally, addressing him as “Sir” assuming he was an officer. The last member of the group, naval spetznaz Gefreiter Eely, simply said “Cheers for the escort mate”, slightly less formal but still following the Diggledom traditions of politeness.

They entered the room and looked around, taking in the layout, before all eyes turning to the Kilrany naval representative, who appeared to be perfectly at ease, drinking from a mug, letting them make the first move once they felt comfortable. The two spetznaz operatives took positions along the wall behind the area of the table where the intelligence operatives had placed their dossiers. The two commanders, the admiral and lieutenant Colonel went over to the Kilrany officer and both introduced themselves, giving their ranks, names and relaying the fact they were both Diggledom operatives.

HMS Gallant

Despite measuring just under two hundred metres from stem to stern, the Gallant stood sentry at the furthest extent of the Oceanian task force. Forward of the superstructure, the prying eyes of the Russkyans could find a medium calibre gun and three smaller mounts for close aboard engagements with small craft. Most visibly striking, however, was the large expanse of open space aft of amidships. At intervals, however, it would become rapidly clear to any observer that the main reason for the space was in fact the role of the Type 61 frigate.

From the large flight deck, the frigate could operate her three Cormorant helicopters and three Sea Sprite drones to better search for submerged threats to a task force that had cost Oceanian taxpayers billions of pounds. And while much of the flight operations for the fleet had been curtailed to limit the perception of the task force being a threat, the Cormorants remained aloft, landing to refuel but otherwise ensuring a near-constant presence of anti-submarine helicopters as a ring around the task force.

Commander Christopher Henley allowed himself the slightest of smiles as his eyes read the Russkyan message. He glanced up at the communications officer, who had prepared the hard copy and had already sent a request off to the flagship as for a proper response. "Anything yet?" he asked quietly.

"No, sir."

"Do we know anything much about the Russkyans?"

"No, sir."

Henley shook his head. Like many of his fellow captains serving in the task force, Henley considered the whole endeavour rather unwise–despite ORNI's claims to the contrary, the United Kingdom simply did not know enough to be interfering in the affairs of a region so alien to Oceania. The only thing, apparently, he could count upon was the professionalism thus far exhibited by his Russkyan counterparts. Keeping a wary eye upon him and the task force but not doing so in an overbearingly-so fashion.

"Sir," Henley's officer said, interrupting his thoughts, "we have a reply from the Majestic." The officer handed Henley another piece of paper that was quickly read and that Henley quickly confirmed.

"Message received. Force N commander sends regards and acknowledgment of Taskforce Samoilev. Will relay concerns to Kilrany allies. Did not sail this far to find all Novajevan pubs closed for repairs."

Henley watched the signal be sent to the Russkyan escorts and then returned to the recirculated air of the bridge where he was to supervise the cycling of his helicopters, one of which was already spinning up her rotors on the flight deck.

HMS Majestic

"Bloody Foreign Office," Hamilton swore under his breath. His fingers hastily rolled up the received message in a ball. While he had requested instructions from Georgetown, that the Foreign Office would be the department to reply evidenced further the the Admiralty was losing its stature in the government's decision-making process. While perhaps that was best for politicians back home, at sea, if Hamilton had to read his orders from a politician he would rather it be from the First Lord and not the Foreign Secretary.

Not that the Foreign Secretary had even signed off on the message. Some deputy something or other instead.

In the time it had taken for Oceanian bureaucracy to work, he had convened his staff and crafted a message to his Kilrany counterpart that would be transmitted when he received permission from Georgetown. Now it needed to be amended to allow the Kilrany a part in determining his "course of action." At the thought, Hamilton simply shook his head and cursed the Georgetown mandarins.

It took fifteen minutes to edit the message that Hamilton had prepared, but in those fifteen minutes his fleet sailed further north through the Strait all without communication between the Kilrany and the Oceanians. Hamilton simply hoped that it was not misconstrued as the standoffishness that he himself might have interpreted his actions as.

Secure Communication

To: Admiral Anna Roerich, Commander-in-Chief, Kilrany Naval Operations in Novajev
From: Vice-Admiral Colin Hamilton, Commander-in-Chief, Force N

After consultation with the Admiralty and the Foreign Office, I believe it in the best interest of all parties concerned with the situation developing in and around Novajev to coordinate activities. To that end it is my intention to sail my task force through the Zuiderzee Strait and arrive in the Tsyentralnoye Morye off the eastern coast of Novajev.

At the moment, the forces under my command are as follows:

3 amphibious assault ships, each with a strengthened battalion of combat infantry troops, two Royal Marines, one Royal Army;
3 fleet carriers, including my flagship the Majestic, approximately 300 combat aircraft combined;
2 escort carriers, approximately 40 helicopters;
1 assault carrier, approximately 24 combat aircraft and 12 heavy-lift helicopters, one strengthened battalion, Royal Marines;
3 dreadnoughts;
12 cruisers;
16 frigates;
2 attack submarines;
2 oilers;
and 3 resupply vessels.

Current planning undertaken by the Royal Marines and Royal Army sees an initial two-pronged invasion landing forces west-northwest of Anjukov and then just east of Barmakov in an attempt to isolate the government and hopefully its means of command and control of its mercenary army. This would be supplemented by naval bombardment of identified targets of military interest as well as targets of opportunity to be identified by both satellite and aerial reconnaissance.

However, as noted, such plans are now subject to alteration given the cooperation deemed appropriate by our respective governments. Given such desired cooperation, it may also be appropriate to dispatch liaison officers at the earliest convenience to better facilitate communication between our two commands.

Sincerely,

Vice-Admiral Colin Hamilton
Royal Navy

The Commonwealth Sikorsky CH-53 Super Stallion helicopter hovered a moment while clearance was given. The experienced pilot took the Stallion down into a controlled fast landing, increasing RPM just as he hit the deck to make for a smooth landing. He took careful notice of the Mi-28 helicopters. Security for the General and the naval liaison officer was next to nothing. On General Wolfe's orders he had only two soldiers from the HMDS. Refuge's Marine company. They were only armed with side-arms. As Wolfe put it, 'I'm sure we won't encounter gun wielding foes on their carrier.'

The moment the helicopter put down, the doors were whipped open and the marines jumped out, followed by the General and the liaison officer, Lieutenant Stuart Deacon. The General looked around quickly, observing the flight deck. He then looked up and waved at the two AH-1W Super Cobras, signaling them to return to the carrier. They then proceeded to walk towards the Kilrany group standing on the deck, when the General's secure palm pilot begun to vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out without stopping. He had received a message from Intelligence, a file containing facts on Novajev, and attached was another file that required an eye scan and voice confirmation to open up. He would have to do that later, they reached the Kilrany party.

"Brigadier-General Jacob Wolfe, Commonwealth Armed Forces. Show me the way." He didn't salute. He didn't want to, not to mention nothing told him he should, by the looks of it none of them are his superior.

"1st Lieutenant Stuart Deacon, HMDS. Refuge, Royal Commonwealth Navy." he offered a hand shake to the person in charge. He was far more polite when it came to politics. He was also smiling widely as he also enjoyed communicating with foreign powers, it was one of the reasons he joined the navy, to see the world. But combat was something he never wished to see, but time and time again he continued to prove himself as a controlled and steady man in command. He was only 20, one of the youngest 1st Lieutenants in the entire fleet and by far had the most important command, one of the Commonwealth's Aircraft Carriers.

HMDS. Refuge
Captain Bradley Wallis rubbed his knuckles, a habit he wasn't sure when he started or why. But he was anxious. Communication from the HMDS. Sovereign reported the engines were repaired, and they were ready to attempt to start the engines. That was ten minutes ago, he had yet to inform the Admiral.

"Sir, message from the Sovereign," the Comm officer smiled, "She's open for business. Engines fully repaired and awaiting orders."

Bradley let out a breath of air he had been holding, then smiled. It was horrible that a Commonwealth Naval Vessel, the navy being the jewel of the armed forces had an engine failure before a shot was even fired. After the HMDS. Sovereign reported the failure, the Captain took the initiative at looked at her record. The ship was supposed to have been in dry dock a month ago for an engine overhaul as this wasn't the first time she has had troubles, but the docks were as busy as ever and her schedule had been pushed back, this fleet posting wasn't going to help either.

"Send a congrats to the crew and to stand-by. Order the fleet to move back into formation. 2nd officer? Put this force on the north side of the main island, set a patrol for the area. We'll make sure Novajev isn't getting any support or supplies."

"Aye aye sir." the required officers replied. He rubbed his knuckles again as he left the bridge, making his way to the Admiral's office. Oh, how good it feels to be moving again! He smiled again, any other ship in the world couldn't pull off a repair like that in such short time. He was proud to be in the Royal Commonwealth Navy. Because of the constant delays that the docks had, crews in the navy had to learn real well to repair and maintain their ships making some of the best mechanics and engineers. He knocked on the door.

Receipt of the Oceanian message had caused a flurry of activity amongst the signalmen manning the signal lamps used for communications while under this EMCON state. K1 Shapov smiled, folding the message sheet he'd recieved from the Communications Officer in half and sliding it into his uniform jacket's lower left pocket.

"Respond with message: "Remain fifty kilometers from Me'ei coastline at all times and they will not dare to interfere with your operations. Samoilev will be appraised of your commander's regards at earliest opportunity and commander Group Vienna is confident regards will be returned in kind. Fair weather, Force N."

"Very good, sir."

"Relay their message to all ships with instructions that the message be read to the ship's company."

The Communications Officer, a slight man of thirty years with wire-rimmed glasses, acknowledged again and left to carry out his orders.

Aboard the Norseman, a bosun's pipe sounded over the intercom. Off-duty personnel perked up, some looking towards the intercom and on-duty crewmen paused for a few moments to hear the message. Shapov's voice came intentionally concise from the speaker.

"All hands, hear this. Signals traded with Oceanian fleet. Force N commander returns regards. Responds to request to inform KIN to avoid sinking Novajev with: "Will relay concerns to Kilrany allies. Did not sail this far to find all Novajevan pubs closed for repairs." Message ends, carry on."

The intercom clicked off. Shapov knew his RVMF sailors, once given a means to identify with their Royal Navy counterparts, would become cordial with the Oceanian seamen, no longer minding as much the thought of the large number of foreign warships in the Tsyentralnoye Morye. And indeed, many of the officers and other ranks under his command smiled at the dry wit of the Oceanian fleet's transmission. On the Group's periphery, Tcherkassy's signalmen relayed the new message to the Oceanians before the two groups of warships passed outside signal distance of one another. The commander of the Tcherkassy, KLt Vasilyev, had already read the recieved signal to his crew, recognizing like his commander the benefit of such action.

Lieutenant Commander Yury Rossi watched as the Diggledom procession entered the decently sized conference room, his mug of coffee was warm in his hands and by now half empty. He barely bothered to hold back a grin; it came more as a light smile, at the sight of the Diggledom thanking the 5th Division operative, who returned their words with a simple nod of his head. When they were all in the operative left the hatch open and took up a position to the left just inside the door, the two naval infantrymen took up positions opposite the door in the corridor.

Yury shifted his coffee mug to his left hand then set it down on the table for the introductions, this brought the black holster on the right side of his belt into clear view, as was standard procedure on a Kilrany naval vessels, he was armed with a pistol. Naturally wary of foreigners like most Kilrany, he still greeted them in a friendly manner. Considering a basic show of respect was still always warranted to foreigners, unless of course they had proved themselves untrustworthy, and the Diggledom had taken no such action to cause the Kilrany major contention as of yet.

“Greeting Admiral, Colonel. I’m Lieutenant Commander Yury Rossi, I’m part of Admiral Roerich’s command staff and will be sitting in on this little meeting,” he smiled wryly for a moment, “Mostly just so we know what the infantry need us to blow up.”

Taking on a slightly more serious expression, if still lighthearted he continued, “Brigadier General Mulyavin; the commanding officer of our naval infantry detachment, should be along shortly, it will mostly be with him who you will be doing the talking with. If you'd like you can find some seats where ever you'd like”

-----

Back up on the deck of the large carrier, Viktoria raised and eyebrow in concern at the sight of the large Delesian helicopter as it came in towards its slotted landing position. They had not expected a helicopter quite as large as the CH-53 and additional preparations had to be made to clear enough space for it, not only that but there was a brief moment of concern that such a large helicopter could have been carrying a large contingent of enemy marines to storm the ship. The latter was quickly, if not completely, dismissed as highly unlikely given past experience with the Delesa. Nonetheless the backup section of naval infantrymen standing ready inside another hatchway was alerted just in case.

To her front the 5th Division operative didn’t even bat an eye at the Delesian General; not that she could have seen it if he had anyway given his face was covered by their usual balaclava, his darkened protective goggles were down over his eyes and he was facing away from her. He did however nod his head in acknowledgement of the General’s words and reply in an even and somewhat indifferent tone.

“Welcome General Wolfe to the KIN Relentless, we have a conference room ready for use, the Diggledom assembly has already arrived and are on their way there as I speak, if you follow me I’ll take you there now.”

Before he could do anything however the Delesian Lieutenant spoke up and Viktoria had to work hard to stifle a grin and chuckle; keeping her expression neutral as the 5th Division operative; the taller, if still thinner of the agents she’d seen up on deck, looked down slightly at the outstretched hand of the Delesian. She imagined to herself a confused look on the operatives hidden face, likely unused to anyone attempting to attempt a friendly greeting.

He surprised her however by accepting the offering of a handshake from the Delesian, though she was unaware of the strength of his grip, which while not crushing, was firm. He then replied in a slightly different tone that left Viktoria pondering for quite some time if she had detected a faint note of amusement in his voice, “Greeting to you Lieutenant, welcome aboard,” then looking back from the Lieutenant to the General as he spoke he continued, “Please follow me.”

And with that he turned and entered the hatchway to lead them to the conference room, only after the Delesian military men had followed him would she and he comrade take up behind them and follow suit.

-----

Down in the Relentless’ CIC, the current on duty communications officer, one Anton Meller, took note of the received communications package from the approaching Azazia task force, which he had printed off by one of his subordinates before turning around and walking over with it towards Admiral Roerich. Having chosen to let her read the long message rather then try and read it all out over the customary background murmur of the CIC.

“Admiral, I have a missive here for you.”

She turned around and took the slip of paper from Anton with a quiet acknowledging, “thank you,” before beginning to read. He waited there patiently as she went over the message, taking note a quickly raised eyebrow and quietly murmured, “There’s a somewhat grandiose name for me,” but not giving it much thought.

A few moments later she appeared to have finished reading the message and it hung limply then in her right hand as she raised her head back up and her eyes took on a distant look of thoughtfulness. Once again she quietly murmured to herself, “This changes a few things,” she continued with a few more words, but Anton could not hear them.

She came back out of her thoughts a moment later and looked back towards him, handing the slip of paper to him once more, “Contact the Diggledom, make a request to them-politely, if they could move their surface fleet Northward towards our current position North of Volkova. Send a similar message asking the Delesa to move further to the North-east, both should be warned to keep a minimum of eighty kilometers distance between them and the coast to protect their aircraft from the remaining, temporarily active air defense sites,” it became fairly self-evident then to Anton that the Admiral was attempting to shuffle the various task forces around Novajev so they could maintain a decent amount of room to maneuver in and give them clear areas of the island to work with. He knew of the reported ties between Delesa and Azazia and quickly figured she meant to have them work closely together, likely having assumed they had done so in the past and would have the experience with it.

She continued on, using a somewhat louder and more official tone to her voice to indicate the actual message to be sent. Anton quickly pulled a pencil from his pocket and wrote her words down on the back of the paper slip, using a corner border of the primary display as a solid base, “After those are sent, send an acknowledgement to the Azazia, ‘Admiral Roerich acknowledges message from Admiral Hamilton. At this time we recommend you take up station to the East of Novajev’. Add a quick warning of active air defenses … though they most likely will know of them with passive radar, send that along anyway, ‘At this time we are holding an assembly of representatives of the various nations involved in the current situation that includes the nations of Diggledom and Delesa here aboard the KIN Relentless. The Latter I believe you have relations with if we’re not mistaken. If it pleases you, you are welcome to send your own representative to discuss action to be taken on Novajev aboard the carrier.’”

She paused, seemingly taking a few more moments to choose her words carefully, “‘If this is not possible at this time, perhaps we could set something up through the Delesian representative,’ . . . alright, that should do, send that along to them.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He turned and made his way back towards his station to draft the messages for the Diggledom and Delesa, along with putting the message to the Azazia in a more proper format to transmit. Behind him he could hear Admiral Roerich begin speaking with two of her staff officers and the one 5th Division operative still in the CIC.

Their discussing was quick and quiet, mostly centering on sending orders for the both the primary task force and the smaller group of escorted Poseidens to move to the West of Novajev. They were slightly concerned with the indicated plan of action by the Azazia, they had clear orders that they were to deal with Admiral Ekster and that no foreign forces were to get to him first. A moment later one of her staff officers, upon her order, pulled free his own electronic device to contact General Mulyavin to inform him of the latest turn of events before he reached the conference room where the Diggledom were waiting and the Delesa were on their way to.

General Wolfe shook his head when the Lieutenant offered the handshake. When the operative asked for them to follow he nodded his head and prodded the Lieutenant to walk in front of him. The guards walked in front and behind the two officers as the Kilrany lead them into the ship.

Discipline among the Kilrany ranks had always amazed the General. Each and every soldier seemed to have a chip on his or her shoulder, making working with them annoying to a point, but reports from the peacekeeping force that was working with the Kilrany but a few hundred kilometers away, suggested they were competent and fully capable. Something Wolfe liked to see. But he was confident his boys could perform to the highest of standards some exceeding it.



ooc: short and to the point for now

"Ha, Lieutenant Commander, that is a feeling I know well. To be honest that was why I came over myself, better than sitting around on the Guryev doing nothing. I have to admit to a complete lack of prior knowledge about the Kilrany navy but from what I have seen of you so far I am looking forwards to further dealings with you." The admiral said, carefully pouring himself a cup of coffee before offering the jug around the rest of the staff that were present.

----

The Diggledom navy were perfectly happy to follow the Kilrany suggestion, carefully moving towards the Kilrany fleet. They maintained a sixty kilometer barrier between them and the coast, but weren't worried by the enemy air defences, simply because they had no regular CAP on station, the only aircraft that were skybourne were the transport helicopters and even they flew NOE, or more accurately, NOS.

Brigadier General Wolfe’s assessment of the Kilrany military and their posture was not entirely unwarranted, in general they were a people who took their jobs seriously, all the more so when they found themselves before other militaries. It was an attempt on their part to appear professional and alert to better impress others with ‘the might of the Kilrany Empire’, something they took great pride in. As for 5th Division however, for them it was merely a simple matter of suspicion and perhaps, just a bit of arrogance.

It took only a few minutes for the 5th Division operative to lead the Delesian officers and their escorts to the conference room, arriving in time to witness the Diggledom Admiral offering the coffee pitcher around. Stepping aside for a moment at the open hatch he gestured fro the Delesian men to enter before he himself took up position inside the hatchway opposite his comrade. The other two Kilrany naval infantrymen took up position outside the hatch on either side, face to face with their own comrades.

Rossi’s smile increased slightly, pleased with himself that he had managed to seemingly get on good terms with the Diggledom Admiral before him. Still smiling he acknowledged the newly arrived Delesian officers with a nod of his head before gesturing with his right arm first to the coffee then to the table, “I’m Lieutenant Commander Yury Rossi, welcome, please help yourself to a mug of coffee if you’d like and take a seat, Brigadier General Mulyavin should be along in a moment.”

Picking up his mug once more, Rossi walked over towards the far end of the rectangular table and took a seat on the right side near the end, leaving the far head of the table clear, behind which there was a white display board attached to the wall, in the center of the table was a simple looking projector aimed at the same white board. The projector had been dug out of a cabinet for the express use in this meeting, for unlike the Russkyans, who had decades of friendship with the Kilrany, they were less willing to reveal all they used before the Delesa and Diggledom just yet.

True to Rossi’s word, General Mulyavin came walking in to the room no less then two minutes later with a pair of his own officers trailing behind him, one male one female. All three wore a black uniform as usual with officers of the naval infantry, similar in appearance to the navy officers, however not so similar as to be easily distinguishable between the two.

Atypical for a Kilrany, he was rather overtly friendly and jovial with foreigners and he nodded in turn to each of the delegations as he passed in towards the far side of the room. At the end of the table his two officers took a seat near the end on the left side, leaving room for him at the very end while he continued to stand.

He waited a moment for both delegations to take a seat before he nodded towards the 5th Division operative, to which they responded by closing the hatch. A moment later he addressed the two groups, “Good day to you gentlemen, quite an unusual situation we seem to have found ourselves in. We have much to discuss, but before I do is there anything you fellows would like to say? Or perhaps you’re hungry after your flight? The galley is not far off so something can be acquired quickly if that is the case.”

General Wolfe looked around the room he was lead to, noticing the different uniforms instantly. He put on his best 'friendly' smile, while reserving the feelings of indignation. He walked to the other side of the table, opposite to the unknown officers without a word. Placing his suit case and jacket on the seat to his left, he motioned for the Royal Navy liaison to take the seat to his right, which of course he did. The two soldiers stood at ease behind them. He sat down, fixing the front of his uniform then took off his peak cap, running his open palm over his grey speckled brown hair. He stood when the new officer, dressed in the Kilrany uniform entered, then sat back down. "Coffee would be nice, but no food. Flying always makes me uneasy in the stomach."

The Lieutenant looked at the General, which have him a half-hearted nod. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, I would like a cup of tea if you can spare. Coffee is too dreadfully strong for me."

Jacob rolled his eyes, "In the meantime I wouldn't mind knowing who I'm sitting across from. But yes, much to talk about and get planned."

---

The Admiral looked at the message from the Kilrany command. She nodded softly. "Fine, Captain make it so." She handed him the message then proceeded out of the bridge presumably back to her stateroom to write up a message to send back to Fleet Command. The surface fleet begun to take up their patrol positions, with one of the submarines taking up point several clicks ahead. The other submarine, the HMDS. Constant slipped away from the group heading south back towards the open sea, back through the channel. From there a large transport plane from the Commonwealth would drop off a 'special' package of which the submarine would pick up and return to the theatre of operations. They would try to remain undetected and run silent.

The command staff carefully took their seats, with the group being arranged in rank order, with the admiral being closest to the projector at the front of the room with the two analysts sitting at the back of the group. They all looked up as the Delesian delegation arrived, carefully taking in their appearance and bearing but being careful not to stare.

The two naval spetznaz grinned under their black balaclavas, silently amused by the Delesian Generals actions. They were more used to the Diggledom politeness, if possible they were usually polite, resulting in training exercises being interesting, with radio transcripts running along the lines of ‘Sorry to have to tell you, but we have just wiped you out’. Not that they expected everyone to be polite, but it was amusing to see someone openly irritated by a trivial matter.

“We had a quick meal before we travelled over here, so I think we are okay. Thanks for the offer though.” The admiral said, responding for the entire of the delegation.

The question from the Delesian general was answered by Lieutenant Colonel Johnson, “We are the Diggledom delegation, I am Lieutenant Colonel Johnson,” he introduced the rest of the staff before asking, “I assume you are the Delesian commander?”

"Aye that would be me, Brigadier-General Jacob Wolfe, His Majesty's Commonwealth Army and this," directing attention to his right, "is Lieutenant Stuart Deacon from the HMDS. Refuge acting as the Commonwealth's naval liaison officer." He nodded, content with the introductions. "Now that that is out of the way, we may proceed, unless we are still missing someone?"

The General's two marines looked out of their league, surrounded by masked and more heavily armed men, but Wolfe just shook his head. He thought of it a joke to bring aboard such 'muscle' when they were on a boat in the middle of the sea. A silly notion that one would think they would be in harm's way here, under the watchful eye of the Kilrany. The biggest threat anyone would receive in the room would be food poisoning, but if the cooks worked as hard as the soldiers, then there would be no worry.

not great, but i am pressed for time. hopefully my glossing over the flight and landing of the helicopter can be forgiven but it condenses three posts or so into one.

HMS Majestic

Between the soaring peaks of an orchestral piece, Vice-Admiral Hamilton discerned a faint rapping on his cabin door. Pushing the blankets off of him and inserting a piece of paper to mark his progress in a book on an analysis of Oceanian engagements in World War II, he rose from his bunk and unlocked the door, finding his intelligence officer with a small, black leather folder tucked underneath his arm. "The latest, Admiral," the man offered the folder and when Hamilton took it, loosened his stance and waited for the eventual wave of Hamilton's hand for admittance into the cabin.

"What do we have," Hamilton inquired, his eyes focused not on the officer but rather the abstracts and communiques received by the Majestic since he had taken leave of Operations.

"Not a great deal, sir." The two men sat around a small coffee table adorned with an unused sterling tea set. Instead, Hamilton placed the folder on the table and walked over to the small refrigerator and withdrew two bottles of water from the UK. He offered one to the intelligence officer who nodded and thanked the admiral.

"ORNI sent these satellite photographs, the foreign fleets are moving northward while initial indications point to the Kilrany moving on a bearing that should point them off the western coast of Novajev." The intelligence officer eased back into the sofa and let the admiral shuffle through the overhead photography of the Kilrany, Delesian, and Diggledom fleets.

"You shall also find information on the general makeup of each fleet, at least so far as ORNI can confirm. We of course know the most about the Delesian fleet, a Vice-Admiral Sarah Conrad commanding from a Nimitz class fleet carrier. The Diggledom fleet is slightly larger, but still far smaller than our task force and the Kilrany are, of course, playing with home field advantage."

Hamilton smiled silently to himself and nodded while James Huntington spoke. He was a capable officer, thorough and efficient and Hamilton could tell that he would make it far. Perhaps not so far as to command fleets of warships but the far mightier command of information at the highest levels. Perhaps there he could actually make certain theatre commanders received correct information, Hamilton mused to himself.

"Very well, and reports of Novajevan activity?"

"Not much naval activity, sir. All indications are that the bulk of their surface fleet now rests at the bottom while any air-to-air capabilities are similarly eliminated. The greatest potential threat remains ground-based anti-ship missiles and surface-to-air missiles. Reconnaissance drones skirting the Kilrany recommended distance report various signals of varying strength."

Hamilton sat up from his seat and rummaged through the folder for a map of the theatre, quickly overlaying in his mind his assets and zones of engagement. "What do the Delesians have, Jim?"

"Ah, one moment, sir." Now Huntington sifted through the papers until he came across a short but detailed listing of the Delesian fleet. "Two Halifax-class, two Duke-class, and one Nansen-class–all more specialised in anti-submarine and limited anti-air capacities."

"Prospects for a surprise saturation attack?"

"Not likely, sir. My estimate, sir, that the Kilrany took such a beating from a small state indicates that they underestimated the capabilities of the Novajevan Navy to launch such a coordinated attack or were unaware of the presence of the anti-ship missiles used in the strike. In all probability, whoever issued the order to fire did so well-knowing that they held the advantage, albeit temporarily, and used it while in such an advantageous position. They may still have missiles, and I would wager they do indeed, but a large massed attack is increasingly unlikely."

"Instead, sir," Huntington continued, "I would worry about small attacks launched from various points along the coastline. Better to divide our response and hope to score one or two hits than play to our strength." Huntington referred to the eight Type 44 cruisers under Hamilton's command, each carrying over 500 anti-air missiles and electronic suites designed to counter high-density threat environments. "Instead, I imagine that the high-density threat comes more from the south and east, Me'i is portrayed as a state that is highly secretive and ultimately unpredictable. The Russkyans appear friendly enough, though concerned. As for the other major states in the immediate vicinity, the FLRJ, Germania and Triari, we do not know a significant amount about them but that the Kilrany did not include information leads me to believe that the Kilrany do not consider them a threat. At least not yet."

Leaning back, Hamilton took a long drink of his water. "Cornelius," he abruptly said, "he is originally from Delesa, is he not?"

Huntington blinked, surprised at the sudden change in topic of conversation. "Indeed, sir, though I forget from exactly where."

"Brilliant. The Kilrany requested a representative and already are hosting a Delesian delegation. Cornelius should, theoretically, get on well enough with at least one of them."

Fifteen Minutes Later

Of average height and build, with brown hair and eyes to match, and a soft-spoken voice, Cornelius Niven was less than physically impressive. To his credit, however, he had earned the rank of commander in the Royal Navy and could be expected to see command of a frigate in the not-so-distant future. Today, however, he was but a messenger riding aboard a small, navalised version of a Royal Army utility helicopter termed the Sea Falcon in the Royal Navy.

Along with Niven flew a lieutenant-colonel of the Royal Army, Ronald Cook, and a major of the Royal Marines, Henry Clayborne. The three of them would represent Hamilton's command but Niven was solely in charge of the group. It was, after all, an operation under the command of a Royal Navy officer.

Landing aboard the Kilrany carrier, the larger Delesian helicopter dwarfed the Sea Falcon, nearly half the size of the larger transport. Niven waited until the crew signaled him that it was safe to disembark. Leading his team, he stepped out and found a waiting escort and offered a salute. "Commander Cornelius Niven, Royal Navy, permission to come aboard," he shouted over the dying whine of the contra-rotating blades slowing above his head.

OOC: Once again I find myself apologizing for the delay and the haste of this post.

Mulyavin gave an acknowledging nod of his head towards the Delesian Lieutenant Commander but did not reply, instead he remained silent as the Diggledom and Delesian delegations introduced each other. For those with the angle on the hatch however they would have noticed the taller of the 5th Division operatives open it slightly and inform one of the naval infantrymen inside to get the galley to bring up some tea.

He waited a few more moments until they fell into silence once more before he spoke again, as he did, one of his officers slid a clipped stack of papers over to the Delesa and Diggledom in turn, “Well gentlemen, now that the greetings are all aside, my comrade here has passed you some reading material, it is a written report on what one of our fine 5th Division friends will be going over, refer to it as you’d like. Also, those are for you and you may leave this room with them and take them back to your respective task forces.”

He was about to speak once more, but he stopped short when the shorter of the two 5th Division operatives spoke up, “General, Admiral Renatus wishes to inform you all that we will be having one more delegation before we begin. We’ve received word from the United Kingdom of Oceania would like to take part as well, ETA is twenty minutes.”

The General let out a slight interested grunt before speaking, “Very well then. Well gentlemen, it seems we will wait a little bit longer before we begin. Feel free to skim the data in front of you, “ he grinned slightly, “Unless any of you are speed readers you shouldn’t get too far.”

-----

When the Oceania Sea Falcon came into for a landing on the deck of the Relentless there was no 5th Division operative there to great the Commander, instead three Kilrany naval infantrymen stood outside the hatch. It was not due to any preferential treatment or lack of personnel, but rather that they only felt two operatives were necessary in the meeting and sending a third operative purely for escort.

Stepping forward to greet Commander Niven was younger Kilrany naval infantrymen around the age of twenty-three, “Good day to you Commander, Corporal Klimov at your service, if you follow me we’ll get you and your comrades to the meeting room.”

At a quick pace he lead the three men through the hatchway with his two other naval infantry comrades behind him. After a few moments of walking they arrived outside the meeting room just as a crewman from the galley was exiting, hands empty after taking in a pot of tea, a pitched of ice water and several extra mugs several minutes before hand.

Stopping short of the four infantrymen already standing guard, Klimov gestured to the now open hatch before turning and leaving, “Right in there gentlemen.”

General Mulyavin glanced up from his new position near the table with the beverages where he had relocated himself to get a cup of water, “Greetings, you must be the fellows from the Oceania task force, I am Brigadier General Carlo Mulyavin, please help yourselves to a drink here if you’d like and take a seat where you please.”

He gestured towards the Diggledom and Delesa, “I’m sure you know the Delesa, but these gentlemen here are the Diggledom, please introduce yourselves and we’ll begin.”

With that he took his mug filled with water and moved back over towards the end of the table where he waited several moments for all to be introduced.

Niven smiled politely and quietly followed Klimov to the meeting, the officers from the Royal Marines and Royal Army but a few steps behind. As they entered the room and listened to Mulyavin's introduction, the two ground officers stood behind Niven, each with their cap now under their arm.

"On the behalf of Vice-Admiral Hamilton, I should like to take this opportunity to thank you, General, and the Kilrany Navy for hosting this meeting without which it should be manifestly more difficult to achieve our common objectives. I am Commander Cornelius Niven, Royal Navy. To my right, Lieutenant-Colonel Ronald Cook, Royal Army and on my left, Major Henry Clayborne, Royal Marines. On a personal note, if I may indulge, General, I should like to add that it is an honour, as an Oceanian, to once more serve alongside our Delesian allies." Niven and his fellow officers nodded nearly in unison in appreciation of their Delesian allies, with whom the United Kingdom had fought during the second war of Delesian independence.

After all the formalities and cross introductions, Niven took a moment to pour himself a cup of tea. He tasted it quietly in one little sip and kept an even face. Not Sarnian grade, he thought to himself, but passable. The three Oceanians, all of whom had taken tea, exchanged an impassive glance that confirmed to each what Niven had thought. But at least they had the foresight to serve tea and not coffee, Niven added as an afterthought.

The Diggledom Lieutenant Colonel spoke up, once again introducing himself and the rest of the Diggledom delegation, leaving only the Spetznaz unintroduced, simply because he didn't know their names and certainly couldn't distinguish between them when they were wearing their full face masks.

OOC:

Sorry for the small reply, can't really think of much to say and I am kind of snowed under with work ATM.

When the Oceanian party entered the room, General Wolfe and Lieutenant Deacon recognized the uniform. They stood, returning the nod. For the General, who didn’t enjoy working with foreigners, the arrival of these men made him feel a little better. For many people in the Commonwealth, it was hard to think of the Oceanians as foreigners, but rather brothers. They spilt blood for each other and enjoyed strong relations. They took their seats.

“Well well, look who decides to show up.” Wolfe chuckled; it was his attempt at a joke, “Name’s Brigadier General Wolfe-”

Deacon cut him off raising his teacup, “And I am Lieutenant Deacon, XO of the HMDS. Refuge. Glad to seem some uniforms we recognize.” It’s true that the Commonwealth has worked with the Kilrany before, and actually still are only a few hundred kilometers away to the south on a peacekeeping mission. But that operation was just another mission along with the countless others conducted with many other nations. Ask any officer in the Armed Forces and they know who the Oceanians are.

It might also help that in the home islands of the Commonwealth, Delesa to he precise, the United Kingdom maintains a crown colony just off the shores of Delesa.

“Hamilton? Hmm… was he involved with that debacle with those pirates and nuke in Veduka or what ever that nation was called? I saw something about that in the newspaper. Just terrible to see soldiers and sailors to go down like that.” Wolfe hung his head and shook his head. “Damn bastards, nuclear war is going to be the end of the world.” He raised his head and took a sip of his coffee. Then opened the file in front of him, just getting a glance before the briefing. “Now that we have everything out of the way, I presume that’s everyone and we can continue the meeting?”

Mulyavin acknowledged the Oceania officer’s words with a nod of his head and listened to the exchange of introductions by the various nations’ military officers gathered before him. He smiled slightly moments later; content that everyone was now known and he could begin at about the same time the Delesian General mentioned it as well.

“Indeed General Wolfe, this should be everyone,” here he grinned briefly for the joke he was to make, “of course maybe the Russkyans will show up at the last minute,” then he took on a more serious demeanor, if still a little lighthearted, “Right then gentlemen, let’s get down to business then. We’re all here because of this damned situation on Novajev, of which each of our respective nations has tasked us with dealing with. To begin however one of our fine 5th Division friends here is going to give us a brief intelligence overview to bring us all up to speed and that we’re all on the same page.”

With that the General slid down into his seat as the stockier 5th Division operative by the door came over towards the end of the table, pausing only for a moment at the center where he picked up a control for the projector on the table. Coming up to the wall on the right side of the white sheet, he clicked a button on the control and an image of the Tsyentralnoye Morye came up, focused in on the area they were in, showing Novajev, the Northern coastline of Kilrany, the Eastern coastline of Triari, the southern coastlines of Germania and the FLRJ and just barely did it include the island of Novrezina, located in the mouth of the Zuiderzee Strait, between Kilrany and Me’i. At the same moment he hit the slight, the taller 5th Division operative by the door hit the light switch, allowing the projected image to be easily seen.

His tone was clear and even as he spoke, “Most of you are quite familiar now I’m sure with this image, so lets continue,” he clicked a button again and the image shifted slightly to one with a circled location in the Southwest of the FLRJ and a dotted line traveling South towards the strait before abruptly shifting towards Novajev, “as you know, six* days ago, two Ivan Rogov class landing ships were captured on camera landing forces on Novajev, and this whole situation began.”

“What some of you may not have known however is that they originated from the Southwestern FLRJ port city of Izola, currently in Republican hands. Both vessels were tracked through their entire passage through the Morye, but we’re not considered a threat since we are not at war with the FLRJ. From what we have gathered, Admiral Rinat Ekster, the ranking officer of the Novajev navy, most likely in collusion with certain members of the Novajev government, sought to stage their little coup using readily available forces from the Republican faction of the FLRJ. Ever since their stalemate and subsequent ceasefire, we have been aware of a large number of military personnel taking up mercenary jobs from the nation. While we have been aware of this, our fall out with the Republicans over a year ago has made it difficult to monitor activity within the FLRJ. We believe that the majority of these mercenaries are made up from the foreign volunteer brigade the Republicans set up, comprised of people from all around the world, including Kilrany citizens.”

“We believe both vessels carried a full load at the time of the landing, dropping off two battalions worth of mercenaries on to the island, roughly one thousand combat troops. Both vessels however have since returned to the FLRJ and have not put forth from port since. However, they were not the only ships to come from the FLRJ, having set sail at about the same time, but going at a slower rate, were two rather large freighters. It is from these vessels that their heavier equipment came from, the artillery they had set up on the North of the island, their air defense systems and at least one platoon worth of heavy armour that we spotted leaving the Eastern base prior to the bombardment of it.”

“Because of overcast left from a large storm approaching the region at the time, we were unable to see all that was offloaded from these freighters, thus we are unsure as to whether additional combat personnel landed on the shores of Novajev. Like the Ivan Rogov’s before them, they too returned to the FLRJ prior to any shots being fired.”

Here he clicked a button once more and the image shifted to an over head view of Novajev; a detailed map of the island indicating large roads, cities and the general appearance of the land itself, “I’ll skip the action of the past few days as I’m sure you’re all aware of the run in the Diggledom had attempting to evacuate personnel and civilians from the island.”

“At oh eight hundred hours this morning, Admiral Roerich ordered a limited strike against several important targets on the Eastern coast of the island. Namely the large makeshift base, which was mostly evacuated, the small airfield on the Northeast, already damaged by Diggledom naval fire, and the mercenary firebase on the North, which had also been damaged by Diggledom naval fire. This was done in order to press the mercenary forces into surrendering to us rather then standing and fighting. As you all know mercenaries are not the most reliable of combat personnel, more interested, generally speaking, in cashing their paycheck then fighting. It is the hope of Emperor Sviatov that we can bring this situation to a close with as little loss of life as possible.”

His last words were something of a lie, but not completely, it was true that the Emperor did not want wonton destruction on Novajev, knowing full well that Kilrany would be the ones to field the expenses of rebuilding the small nation, but he also wanted vengeance on the Novajev for their attack on Kilrany naval assets.

“This approach has already been successful to a limited degree. Assuming the communications are accurate, we have numerous reports of mercenary forces turning on their officers, or their officers turning with them, and declaring on open frequencies their desire to surrender. In the Northwest we’ve received word from an entire company of forces offering their surrender, if genuine we plan to have it honoured.”

“While their entire forces cannot be numbered specifically, we are able to estimate them, and we believe there are no more then one thousand combat capable troops left on Novajev, counting those claiming to surrender and not counting their support personnel. As you can all do the math yourselves, we heavily outnumber them in both personnel and in firepower we can bring to bear on them. They have since appeared to spread out over the island into the cover of towns and forests where we cannot directly see them.”

He paused a moment before continuing, “The biggest threat left to us now from the Novajev are their ground based missiles, both anti-air and anti-ship, though these appear to be scattered and may be as mutinous as some of the other units. They have no naval forces left since their reckless assault on our forces and they have no air force to speak of, save two Kamovs, of the Ka-27 variety we believe, that survived the naval engagement.”

A click of the remote and the image changed to show the three active air defense zones that still covered the island, “As you are also no doubt aware, their air defenses are still currently active. Come fourteen hundred hours, Roerich aims to smother these sites with HARMs and give us complete air superiority over the island. At that time all military targets are to be considered fair game outside populated areas.”

With that the operative turned and passed in front of the display and back towards the door, handing the small control back to General Mulyavin as he want. Mulyavin had expected a bit more detail from the operative, but knew it was present in the pages given to the representative officers.

Clearing his throat slightly he addressed everyone, “Well there’s the general layout of the current situation and we’re all up to speed. Since we all now have a stake in this situation, I see no reason to shut anyone out, so what I suggest is that each of our respective forces take on the task of securing sections of the island.”

At that he clicked the control and the image of Novajev shifted to one cut in to four separate sections, “Basic I know, but appropriate given our number. As you can see we’ve broken it into four sections, though I’m sure due to the relations between Delesa and Oceania you two can easily share responsibility for the East of Novajev and Diggledom can take the Northwest and my forces the Southwest.”

He paused a moment before quickly continuing, “However this is merely a suggestion, I have no command over your forces. This is also a meeting to discuss this very thing, so putting aside my own suggestion, please, put forward your own. I would like to hear your own thoughts on the situation and perhaps any additional information you may have.”

With that the taller 5th Division operative flicked the lights back on.

* Roughly six days, I can’t recall specifically off hand now whether it was six or five days since this all began, but in the grand scheme it’s not exceptionally important I don’t think.

Lieutenant Colonel Johnson raised his hand and waited until he had most peoples attention.

"I was wondering why you said," he paused to look down at his notes before looking up again, "that all the military targets outside populated areas will be considered targets. What do you intend to do with those in the cities. The experience I have with city-fighting, limited though it is, indicates it is rarely a good idea to let the enemy build defences in the city. We have also launched a series of satellites to support this operation, so if anyone wants we can probably sort out some way of piping the data to you."

Mulyavin nodded his head slightly as Johnson spoke, recognizing the need of the question, “Yes, quite right, all was not explained as clearly as it could have been,” he didn’t glance over towards the 5th Division operative, he had expected the man to say more but found himself little surprised that he had been unwilling to speak fully in front of the foreign military personnel.

“I have no interest in sending my men into urban combat either, however Novajev only has a permanent population of around ten thousand, this has been reduced due to deaths in their navy and police forces, which were already stretching their people thin. Their largest ‘city’ and capitol, Anjukov, is home to only around one thousand. It’s a misnomer that we call them cities, this is out of force of habit having dealt with the Novajev for many years, they’re more along the lines of small towns or large villages.”

“But to answer your question, for the time being we don’t intend to attack any forces inside one of those communities. They’re in a bad position; they have no means of attaining re-supply or of replacing their casualties. The local population certainly isn’t going to help them willingly, nor would it do them any good to try and press them into service, the Novajev are not a ‘gun people’.”

“They’re mercenaries, en masse they may have courage enough to fight off an enemy they think inferior, but I highly doubt the majority of them are willing to stand up and fight a doomed cause for money they are extremely unlikely to get to spend. We offer them a way out, with their money, and we get to do this with as few casualties as possible. At least as I see it, do you see an alternative?”

The General’s words were not bitter nor sarcastic, but genuinely interested in what the various officers had to say.

"Well, I think we can handle the east side, of course I don't speak for the UK, but we are willing and capable to work along side them." Wolfe thought for a second, looking at the papers in his briefcase, searching for something. "Ah yes. I have here the forces that the Commonwealth is currently bringing to the table. I have an airborne regiment on standby back in Delesa, I brought an tank regiment, and I have recently acquired the task force's marine contingent."

He looked around the table. "I was told to bring up the case of air support. Does everyone here have a type of it? Gun ships? Ground fighters? If not, I have orders from command to offer it to anyone who needs it. It's my government's plan to reduce our casualties first, then worry about the merc bastards lives second. And to all the men here who have fought on the ground, a little air cover was always appreciated." He nodded in satisfaction. He got his point across.

"Does this... conflict have any prime objectives? The capital? Is there some mercenary HQ that we can take and watch the command crumble? Satellite coverage for the Commonwealth here is... minimal, we have other concerns that restrict many passovers. Do we know where troop concentration is the most? Where is this armor, I can presume these are going to be eastern designs?" Wolfe asked a lot of questions. He wanted everything crystal clear, because when it wasn't bad things happen then end up as unnecessary lives lost. He had previous experiences that haunted him.

Finally he commented on the concerns about cities and villages. "The Commonwealth has an armored regiment, I don't think civilian towns will be a problem. But what's the policy on them? Should we avoid cities? I'll tell you know, the higher-ups want us to crush all resistance. They see it as setting an example, reduces the chances of a second up-rising." He shrugged knowing what he said might have sounded harsh. "Just thinking for the future here. And what do we do with the mercenaries that we capture? They aren't soldiers by ours books, in this case they are deemed rebellious civilian populous armed and dangerous, subject to all treatments deemed necessary to bring around a victory. They are not subject to the luxuries of the Geneva Convention."

On the farm, the Red Stone PMC men had gained the respect of the farmer, replacing many of the hands driven off by the fighting soon to come to Novajev. Their discipline and physical abilities were appreciated by the man, who now watched two of the ground crewmen who'd come with the "Contractors" attempt to repair one of his tractors. Oil slicking their hands and forearms, the sleeves of their coveralls were rolled back past the elbow and their faces wore wide smiles. Such domestic tasks were a nice diversion from the tools of killing, like the Mi-17 and Mi-24 helicopters they'd serviced earlier.

Two of the "Contractors" passed by on a routine perimeter patrol, HK416 carbines carried in their hands, tactical slings looped securely about their armoured torsos. To keep morale high, Wixley, Mannorst, and Mannikov were conducting a physical training session with the dozen men who weren't otherwise engaged in repairing or improving the farmer's equipment or buildings, security operations, or "housekeeping" duties like cleaning and cooking. They went running past the house in a loose formation, every man carrying his weapon, ammunition, and water. Earlier, the long-legged farmer's daughter had been out running with them in little more than shorts and a too-small T-shirt, but the farmer had wisely put a stop to that before she did something stupid, surrounded with as many "exotic" foreigners as she was.

The contractors didn't hold it against him - Wixley had tried to run the teen into the ground, lengthening the run until even his steadfast Afrikaan companion Mannorst was panting for breath and feeling the muscles of his legs burn and ache, but she'd obstinately kept up with and even sometimes ahead of the aging Rhodesian soldier-turned-mercenary. She obviously had the physical ability to make herself a nuisance, but the primary intent of the run had been to turn her into a different sort of challenge for the mercenaries: Best her in a run, rather than lure her into bed. "Or the couch. Floor. Back of a truck. Roof of the BTR. Nearby chair. Standing room. Wherever, really," as one of the former "Fireforce" men had said one memorable evening, gathered around a campfire with his fellows.

One of the last orders of the evening was for Mannorst to excuse himself to "Ma'am," as they'd come to refer to the farmer's stout, rolling-pin-wielding wife, as he climbed through her bedroom window to reach the roof. Stretching out the identification panel, he nailed it in place. The infrared-luminescent, orange panel would identify the position clearly to the Kilrany, Oceanian, Diggledom, and Delesan forces. On the flip side, it would also identify the position to any NNA patrols that passed by. But the contractors were ready for the latter, with a network of concealed fighting positions and a "hardened" ground floor of the farmhouse and both barns.

not the greatest, but i think expediency is more valued in posts of conversation

Niven listened quietly while his counterparts presented their respective positions, in part waiting out of respect for his late entrance into the meeting. He glanced over at Clayborne, the representative of the Royal Marines, which provided the bulk of the UK ground forces, who in turn looked deferentially to Cook, the senior-most ground officer.

Ronald Cook leaned into the table when Wolfe finished his part. "The United Kingdom, to be brief, is providing three battalions of Royal Marines, all equipped for largely independent operations as an expeditionary force, and one battalion from the Army's Chestershire Regiment that is largely equipped to deal with post-combat operations focused upon occupation and reconstruction."

"General," Cook added next, looking at Wolfe in particular, "the United Kingdom also set sail with a few carriers courtesy of the Royal Navy and we have over four hundred combat aircraft, non-inclusive of helicopters, that can assist in providing air supremacy. There shall be no uninvited foreign fly over of Novajev with our combined forces off the Novajevan coast."

"As for the details of the ground operations, we set sail from the UK with a plan that I shall outline for you–it is of course, to degrees, open to modification. The Royal Navy would detach forces from the task force to escort our amphibious assault ships and assault carrier to the western coast of Novajev. Once in position, UK ground forces would land west of Anjukov and east of Barmakov," Cook took a moment to point to the two locations on the map of Novajev, "and provide both a substantive and symbolic blow to the mercenary army."

"Consider that, as you stated General Mulyavin, this mercenary army holds loyalty not to Novajev but to the purse strings. And these purse strings, ostensibly, can be found in Anjukov. If Oceanian soldiers and marines are successful in taking Anjukov then the remainder of the mercenary resistance should wither rather quickly."

"As for the concerns about urban," Cook emphasised the word, "environments, with the exception of Anjukov I agree that these centres of population should be left alone. In the strictest terms, we need to show the Novajevan population that we not interested in inflicting suffering upon them but their mercenary overlords and to best do that we leave their homes and offices alone. However," Cook added with a nod of the head, "I do think that the mercenaries know that fact as well. I think our advantage in air power and sea-based precision munitions should be used to selectively eliminate high-value targets located in and around population centres."

As Cook leaned back into his chair, Nevin cleared his throat to add his voice to the discussion. "General Mulyavin, Admiral Hamilton would also like to inform Kilrany commanders that he too has plans to saturate the remaining anti-air defences on Novajev, but given Admiral Roerich's plans to smother these sites, the Fleet Air Arm will hold off on large-scale operations until Kilrany operations are complete unless your commanders would rather a more joint-operations."

"The Diggledom aviation units present consist of thirty-eight SU-thirtythrees and ten MiG-twentynine-K's. If more are needed then we can request them from higher up my command structure, but from the sound of it we have more than enough aircraft. I cant imagine the mercenaries will carry on fighting against both overwhelming air superiority and being outnumbered several-to-one." The admiral spoke up, responding to the question from General Wolfe.

The lieutenant Colonel then spoke up again, "I am pretty sure that my troops will be happy to avoid the villages if at all possible. I would just like to make one thing clear though, I value the lives of my troops first and foremost. If the mercenaries are using a village to stage raids then I will attack it, or if they have built defences I will use artillery to soften it up then launch a ground attack. Since we are all professionals here I think you will all agree that some casualties might be necessary."

OOC: Hopefully I addressed everything said, if not, say again, heh

Mulyavin was not encouraged by the last remarks from the Delesian Brigadier General, while the Kilrany Empire was not a signatory of the Geneva Conventions, they did have their own sense of morality when it came to conduct in combat, and afterwards. This view even included mercenaries, however he put it aside for the moment and decided it best to answer Wolfe’s earlier questions.

“While I’m unsure as to the exact orders you were given, Emperor Sviatov’s orders, as they were explained to me, are to disband the Novajev National Army and return the Novajev Republic to what it was prior to this coup, all by force as necessary. In this case a ground invasion looks like it is required to root out any mercenary forces unwilling to surrender and apprehend any members of their government responsible for the coup in the first place, if possible, and hold them until Novajev’s own court system can decide what to do with them.”

“The island of Novajev is of little strategic importance, except to enemies of my country, if it had not been for their unprovoked attack on us, I doubt that any Kilrany would have cared what path the Novajev chose to take.”

“But I digress from your other questions General Wolfe, I don’t know about the other gentlemen here, but we will not be in need of any air support, even if the Relentless were not capable of fixed wing fighter deployment, we are well within range of our ground based aircraft. My amphibious warfare vessels also carry a respectable complement of attack, assault, and transport helicopters.”

“Exact troop concentrations and movements are detailed more thoroughly in those documents we handed to you, but they have split between taking up positions in towns and hiding themselves in heavily wooded areas where satellite surveillance is useless. If I recall properly the armoured platoon was last seen taking up position inside Khlav … or was it Kalash … one of those I believe.”

Mulyavin had no problem with the volume of questions from Wolfe, it was entirely reasonable of him to want as much information on the situation as he could get, however there was only so much that the Kilrany knew at this very moment, as the mercenary forces seemed quite knowledgeable at evading satellite surveillance, and their grounds reconnaissance teams had only been on the island for half a day.

The General paused then for a few moments; the subject of the Novajev headquarters was a delicate one, his orders were clear in that Admiral Rinat Ekster was to be apprehended by Kilrany forces and Kilrany forces alone, killed if necessary. To that end he had to deceive the three representative groups into believing that they had no knowledge of the underground command bunker in Anjukov where they believed that Ekster was most likely commanding from.

“We have not yet determined where their central command is located at, it may be somewhere in Anjukov, however it could just as easily be anywhere on the island. I’ve been informed by 5th Division that they believe the Novajev ‘may’ have built a facility into the solid rock of their Northern mountain range, though they can’t be sure.”

“Locating it through ELINT means has not worked so far unfortunately. Our guess at this time is that they’re running their primary communications out through protected hard lines to relay positions that we’re currently working on triangulating to eliminate.”

“If it is not located soon, we will simply have to attempt located it once on the ground and securing the towns and roads will be crucial. While normally the ground on Novajev is solid and decent for armour off-road, the recent storms have no doubt softened the soil and will most likely make long off-road trips difficult. Most of the communities are on important roadways, shelling them would be unwise, even more so because it will only create more defensive works for any forces dug in. These are densely packed buildings unfortunately, to shell them and let them use the rubble for extra fortification would take us back to fighting them like it was in,” he paused for several seconds, his mind racing quickly for an appropriate example he could use, “the Italian town of Ortona. It would be a real mess, they’re already dug in as it is, we might kill a few, but I don’t see it helping us too much. So don’t misunderstand my, or the Emperor’s desire not to have these towns shelled purely out of concern for collateral damage.”

Once again the General paused, this time looking for the right words to be delicate, something generally uncommon for a Kilrany, “In regards to the mercenaries, we intend to honour our offer to those that surrender early, but to encourage the rest we intend to give them the same,” he figured the Delesian General might not like that idea, but there was little alternative and he continued, “if they think we’re going to treat them badly if we capture them, then even as mercenaries they’ll be all the more dangerous. They have not done anything to deserve our ill will beyond those who attack our embassy, and I have my doubts any one of them will admit to that action when we arrive. It is the Emperor’s hope that you gentlemen will all follow our lead when it comes to dealing with the mercenaries, we intend to send them back to their counties of origin, as we see no reason to imprison them otherwise.”

Content that he had answered Wolfe for the time being, he focused then on the Oceania officers, “While alone that plan is a wise one, given the joint effort we’d like to see, I would suggest that you focus your forces on the East coast and we shall land on the Southwest near Anjukov. It’s been stressed to me that there is a deep desire by many of my men that we arrest those responsible for the assault on our embassy in Anjukov. However I shall your belief about cutting the head off and all that, I intend to surround and take Anjukov quickly in order to capture any of the government heads who no doubt also supported the coup.”

As he spoke, Lieutenant Commander Rossi suddenly looked down, then reached into a small pouch on the lower front of his uniform and pulled out what looked like a small one ear headset. Setting it on his right ear with the microphone stretching out towards his mouth, he ran the cord down out of sight below the table before he spoke quietly, Mulyavin’s voice drowning his out, “Yes … yes … understood … alright.”

As Mulyavin continued, Rossi returned the small headset to its pouch, “As for the strike on the air defense sights … well, I can’t imagine that the Admiral would have any objection to a joint strike, our aircraft on the West, yours on the East. We could-”

Rossi raised his hand slightly and cleared his throat to get the General’s attention, “Apologies for interrupting General, in regards to the strike on the SAM sites, there’s been a change of plan. Admiral Roerich has decided that rather then place the pilots in undue risk, she is having the Poseidens shift South rather then North and West towards us. They are going to take up a line ten kilometers off the South coast, which will put almost the entire island under their range of fire, where they will then bombard any target as required.”

“What about the anti-ship missiles?”

“At this time the consensus is that if they had any left, they would have fired them by now, however since that has not yet been confirmed, it is still considered a threat,” he didn’t need to add that they would maintain a high level of alert, it was standard given the situation.

“Well then, I suppose that a joint effort would not quite be required unless you wish to move your own ships into range of your own naval artillery.”

With that he turned to the Diggledom officers, “Well, I think I may have covered some of your concerns, as well as that of shelling populated areas. I certainly don’t expect you to put your men at risk unnecessarily, I sure as hell wont, but given the strength and loyalty of the mercenaries, I should hope it doesn’t come down to shelling any towns.”

"Yes, thanks for the clarification. I just wanted to make sure that we had made our position on any mercenaries who carried on fighting clear. In regards to the Novajev command centre, if we find one what do you want us to do? Are we free to eliminate everyone inside? Or will you want us to capture anyone? I ask mainly because if your infomation is correct then my forces may discover this command structure somewhere in the eastern side of the mountain ranges." Johnson asked, quickly flipping through the briefing notes to see if he could find any pictures that were obviously members of the Novajev command structure.

Brigadier General Mulyavin shook his head slightly and slowly to add emphasis to his response to the Diggledom officer, “No, if you happen to find their command center, I had no ‘orders’ to give. If possible I would recommend taking them alive, its possible in captivity they may be coerced into ordering any remaining pockets of resistance to stand down. However I certainly don’t expect you, or anyone else, to go out of their way to take anyone alive, even their command staff, if they fight, then you’ll have little option to kill them. I will be giving that same order to my men and I don’t expect to have you do anything I wouldn’t have my own men do.”

He wasn’t sure what the Diggledom officer was flipping through the notes, but looking in them the officer would find several personnel files on Novajev officers, essentially identical to the ones the Azazia got through diplomatic means.

"Well, that neatly answers all my questions. If I am going to be working with you on the western side of the island then would you like to have some liason staff assigned? I could have them transported over here or I can accommodate any of your staff that you feel would be suitable for liason work on one of my vessels." Lieutenant Colonel Johnson said, before turning to address the other two delegations present, "The same deal would of course apply to both of you gentlemen, having a single officer or possibly a small team might make the battle slightly easier to organise between the seperate forces."

OOC: Well, it finally occurs to me I never specified what language Mulyavin was speaking in and merely assumed it would be a passable English.

Mulyavin nodded his head in agreement with the Diggledom Colonel, “I believe that would be most wise. Might be difficult for you to find anyone who speaks our language though, fortunately English seems to be a common enough second language for us to use.”

The General smiled, this was way the hell to easy, while he was relatively friendly in relation to most Kilrany, he still held a certain cynical personal view, I expected a little bickering … well perhaps not bickering, but at least some disagreement as to who would do what … well, this has been a pleasant surprise … now hopefully we can all do this as pain free, and more importantly, casualty free, he by no means believed the latter of his thoughts would come to pass. He knew full well that if the mercenaries fought even a little, casualties would occur, the terrain was good for a defender, rolling hills, numerous thickets and forests of all kinds and potentially limited road lines if the terrain was softened by rain.

After several moments of continued silence he spoke up again, “Well now, are we all clear on how we intent to proceed, any further questions or suggestions? I’m more then happy to take them.”

Wolfe looked around the room, then grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sorry if that offended anyone, but that just shows you don’t have understanding of our history.” He took a sip of his coffee, “During the Commonwealth’s last major war, The Second War of Independence or as we call it the Commonwealth-Kreatvye War, in the final months of the war the enemy forces were becoming ever so stretched defending against the allied advance. The Government short on manpower resorted to hiring it from foreign nations. Well that manpower fought hard for their money, earned every penny and then some. They killed more men then any Kreatvye unit could have, but that’s not the reason. No we don’t mind losing a few lives to a good foe here and there, only if we win in the end. And when we started winning again the mercenary force begun to retreat, Russian style, burning everything. Yeah the Krevs did, but only the food stocks and factories. The mercs went the whole ten yards, burning everything homes, entire cities. They killed the people and burned their bodies. They ransacked the homes before they burnt them, they shot the people then robbed the dead corpses.” Wolfe shook his head. He was a captain back during the war and witnessed as a farm was set on fire by retreating mercs, after several minutes the family ran out burning, screaming for help. Heavy suppressing fire kept his troops from getting close enough to help. It happened up and down the lines.

Deacon spoke up, “That’s why any mercenary force has no rights in the Commonwealth. Commanders pled to the Defence Board that it said so. It’s an old law and probably needs to be changed for our modern times but it hasn’t been brought up in the government debates. Some like… the General here still believe that the law is still just.” The Lieutenant offered a weak smile, retreating back from the spotlight and back to his tea.

“Anyways,” Wolfe had gotten his thunder back and was on track, “The Defence Board before the green light was even giving on our commitment drew up several plans of assault. Being asked to attack the east coast as directed by you, I have picked one of the two for the east coast. One suggests attacking through the north, the other, the one I picked is attacking from the south-east on the peninsula and taking the major city quickly before… anything happens.” He reached into the briefcase and pulled out a file and slid it down to the Kilrany officials. This is just an initial plan but I think the main idea can be seen from it.”

See *new* map here (http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i189/seanmyhre/plan.jpg)

OOC: Minor note Delesa, your map link doesn’t appear to be working, but I figure I understand what you mean. As for my post, it's rushed, but I get the feeling everyone feels we're bogging down in the meeting and I don't want to make that worse, heh.

Mulyavin shrugged his shoulders slightly at General Wolfe after he finished speaking and grumbled slightly at the thought of such an action, “It is an unfortunate thing then that those mercenaries acted in such a fashion solely for the sake of their retreat. Widespread slaughter like that for no reason,” again he shook his head slightly at the thought, “But anyway, I do understand your reasoning General, however I do not believe this will be a problem for these particular mercenaries, should I be wrong however, then more harsh a reaction shall those responsible receive.”

He blinked suddenly, feeling he had just been a little to overly dramatic in his last words and cleared his throat before quickly continuing, “Should this not be the case however, I would appreciate it if I could get your word General Wolfe, that mercenaries whom surrender to you be treated as we have discussed, so to best encourage the surrender of the others. If we leave them no way out, them I have little doubt they would take any action necessary to remain alive and ‘free’, so to speak.”

Having no response to Deacon, Mulyavin merely moved on to the Delesian General’s plan of assault and gave it a glance over, “I would advise against landing anywhere in the North, the Novajev coastline rises drastically out of the water from Delta-One Eastward as far as Juliet Three, even so far as a hundred and fifty meters nearly straight up in some areas. Any large scale landing would be best done on the East, or Southeast, as you picked, would be far easier for any force of men. With all our combined numbers and support abilities, a rapid advance should be completely with relative ease.”

Taking a breath he went on, “I intend to split my landing force to come in on the beaches at Bravo-Four and Delta-Seven, which would allow my forces to secure several important roads and cut off and encircle Anjukov quickly while at the same time secure the port near Barmakov.”

"Since it only appears that there is one suitable landing beach on the north west of the island I will be landing my troops along the beach at B1-D1. You mentioned you had fired upon the mercenary firebase, I was wondering if you had any damage reports? I wondered because the range on the guns is enough to cause problems for our forces if they haven't been destroyed.

The last quick question I have at the moment is directed at the United Kingdom delegation. You said you would be happy to run the air-support for the island, would you like us to remove the air defence site that is in front of our landing point for you? Or will you be doing that yourself? It would be good for us to know so we can prevent any friendly fire incidents."

Johnson said again, finally running out of questions, but still listening attentively to the questions and answers that were crossing the table, slowly building up an idea of the different officers present.

Mulyavin leaned back slightly as he recalled the geography of the Northwestern beach that the Diggledom officer mentioned, then nodded his head slowly, “Yes, it is the only suitable landing position along the North coast, but if I recall it is the most ideal one for the island. Most of the beaches of Novajev are fairly dense sand and that Northern strip is the widest, around five or six kilometers wide, they could hardly hope to contest it should any of their mercs be foolish enough to stand and fight.”

Then he turned to face Lieutenant Commander Rossi, “As for the firebase, what was it you sent their way?”

“I believe the area received three full volleys from the Poseiden group, we’re having difficulty getting a clean look at the area through satellite imagining due to some low lying clouds over the Northern mountain, so we have a reconnaissance drone moving in at low altitude from the North now, it will make a quick pop up maneuver over the area and give us a clean image. However I have my doubts their heavy guns would have survived the barrage, if any did, we’ll make that whole section of the mountain a valley if we have to.”

Rossi’s last words elicited a chuckle from the Kilrany officers seated at the table, all amused at the common in joke shared with the Russkyans in regards to the four hundred and six millimeter, twelve thousand kilogram high explosive shells carried by the Poseidens; both 5th Division operatives remained silent. Unknown to them yet, the barrage had been successful at destroying or disabling all the heavy guns in the firebase, what was more threatening however was that the mobile one hundred and twenty millimeter mortars had left the firebase during the Diggledom retrieval of their last surviving special forces operative on Novajev, leaving the 2S23s to be easily mistaken for BTR-80s at range when they weren’t hidden.

Content he had mostly answered the question, he added a bit more just to be sure, “Until we are sure their guns are down, I believe Admiral Roerich is keeping our ships on stand by to counter battery any surviving guns and provide heavy support fire as necessary.”

Without anything else to say for the time being, Mulyavin leaned back again in his chair and waited for the United Kingdom delegation to reply to Johnson or for any more questions from those seated near him.

While the remainder of the coalition commanders responded to Mulyavin's comments and asked followup questions, Niven remained patiently silent. The United Kingdom had not sailed halfway across the world to take second string to rather petty Kilrany objectives of revenge. He looked over towards Cook at several points, curious what the army representative thought of the rather forthright admission of Delesian history and the role of mercenaries. None of the Oceanians in the room had fought in that war, all were simply too young, but each knew that the Oceanians had also fought the mercenaries in that war.

When all had largely settled and his host went silent, Niven decided to reply. "With regards to such a radical and abrupt change in our invasion plans–we shall need to return to the fleet and discuss your proposals with my superiors." The Royal Navy officer made certain to announce that intention as evenly as possible, hoping not to hint at any sense of displeasure that he was certain all the Oceanians felt. "Now, as to regards of eliminating air defence sites, the Royal Navy can well take care of any sites that stand before Diggledom forces."

It was a wise course of action on the part of the Oceania not to express what the Kilrany saw as justice, as petty revenge, though they might have accepted the fact that it was in truth vengeance, they would not have liked the addition of petty. Even General Mulyavin would have taken offence to such a statement, both he and Admiral Renatus felt their offer to allow; which is how they saw it, any of the three nations participate in any way whatsoever on Novajev was being generous as it was.

The Kilrany had little influence beyond the SFR, much to their chagrin, however thus was the price of isolationism and it was seen as a necessary evil. But here within the SFR they had influence and allies, one of the nations making up the ‘big three’ of the SFR, it was where they focused on, every piece of hardware and personnel was dedicated to keeping their nation, their own, and they were highly protective of it. Had it not been for the for their connection to Delesa, they could have met a far more hostile greeting from the Kilrany and their various allies situated nearby, chief among them the Russkyans.

For the moment however, the Kilrany Emperor, and the small appointed political body subject to him saw the Oceania government as a potential ally, as they had done nothing to earn the ire of the Kilrany, who were rather quick to anger, and slow to forgive. A prime example of this would be the continued hate for a nation that no longer existed, only begrudgingly would they admit that the advances made during the Roman Occupation helped bring their people forward.

As it was, with no such words spoken, Mulyavin held the faint belief that all had gone well, much to his continued surprise and he remained friendly, “That is quite understandable, you must inform your superiors, ideally they will accept this arrangement readily and all our respective political masters back home can claim we are doing something useful,” he grinned at that, though he recognized his statement as being rather general, unfamiliar with the other nations, he only knew that traditional politics did not quite apply in Kilrany.

He added quickly, “Do any of you have any further questions or comments, or can we call this initial meeting done with?” at this point one of the 5th Division personnel sent an inaudible message out to a comrade to alert the naval infantrymen to standby for escort back to their respective aircraft.

Johnson looked down the line of the Diggledom men, checking if any of them had any further questions that he hadn’t already addressed. When none of them made a move to catch his eye he turned to General Mulyavin, “Just one quick question, would you like me to chopper over a liaison officer, or I could take one of your officers back to the Diggledom fleet when I return. It might be a good idea to let them familiarize themselves with the environment before the outbreak of fresh hostilities, but otherwise me and my men will be happy to get out of your hair.”

The more senior of the two naval spetznaz members standing along the back wall pressed the toggle on the fore grip of his rifle, opening a channel to the spetznaz helicopter crew. “We are wrapping it up here, will be back soon. Out.” The throat microphone meant that he didn’t actually have to say the words out loud, the vibrations from his throat being decoded and transmitted as slightly flat, but completely understandable, voice.

The helicopter crew began their pre-flight checks, the two pilots going through the “Before engines on” checklist that was in the aide-memoire attached to their right thigh and the two door gunners doing a quick FOD-plod, to check if the Kilrany seamen had accidentally left anything on the deck that could be sucked into the rotors when they started.

While Mulyavin mulled it over in his head for a few moments as to whether to send someone from his staff or simply receive one from the Diggledom, the taller of the two 5th Division operatives made the decision for him; speaking up from near the door he addressed Johnson, “It would be best for you to send over one of your men, we can set aside a coded frequency to communicate with your task force,” addressing the rest of the group he continued, “We shall have to do the same for you two as well, perhaps best to use the same one so we can all speak to each other freely as needed.”

The operative left out the fact that it would be a simple one, something sufficient to be unbreakable to the Novajev for the period of their operations, but not a particularly special code line. While the operative activated his own throat mic once more to have such a thing setup, Mulyavin merely shrugged, unconcerned that the decision had been made for him given his familiarity with 5th Division, he then addressed Johnson himself.

“Well there you go. I’m sure our friends in black there will have it all prepared in time to give you all the encryption protocol before you all leave. Will that be acceptable?”

hopefully nobody minds me skipping over the departure

Niven smiled politely at Mulyavin's humour, not so much out of a failure to find the humour but rather the reserved nature of Oceanians. As the 5th Division operative clarified the communication situation, the Oceanian delegation took note of the need to send over an officer and informed Mulyavin that one would be dispatched at the earliest possible convenience before returning to their waiting helicopter upon the carrier flight deck.

HMS Majestic

Huntington shook his head, Hamilton leaned back into his seat, and the commander of the Royal Marines, Sir David Wright stared as if fascinated by the grey paint on the admiral's cabin. Niven, Cook, and Clayborne all stood silently waiting some sort of response to their debriefing.

"So they would like to steal the whole show from us," Wright muttered, finally letting his eyes fall upon the three-strong delegation. "Not bloody well going to happen," he hurriedly added, leaning forward towards the small coffee table upon which were spread maps of Novajev. Maps of the area around Anjukov. "For days, sir," Wright continued, "we have meticulously planned to take their bloody capital and now this?"

Hamilton closed his eyes and rubbed his palms together. "As it is, General, this is not an integrated command and the Kilrany cannot order us around. But, do recall we are sailing around in their backyard, so to speak, and are a long way from home."

"They could also likely call upon regional allies to ensure that none of us returned to the UK if it came to that." Huntington added soberly. "Indeed, we have been preparing to take Novajev from the far side of the island and this is a significant issue for us to overcome. However, we could likely use to gain some leverage."

"Over a few piles of rocks in the middle of nowhere," Wright growled.

"Consider, General, they must know full well that we have spent considerable time planning our operation and that we are equally capable of launching it without Kilrany support. More than any foreign party in theatre, we alone can carry out fully autonomous combat and occupation operations. Essentially, we are the unknown variable–and a significant one at that. If we act in accordance to their wishes we could walk away with a significant geo-political advantage in the region."

"Geo-political advantages," Cook interrupted, "beg my pardon, sirs, mean little to soldiers on the ground." The army officer glanced over at his marine counterpart before hastily adding, "and to the marines as well, sir. Fact of the matter, sir, this makes our task that much more difficult."

"Undoubtedly so, Lieutenant-Colonel," Huntington replied. "Their plans doubtlessly call for their troops to seize the capital by the easiest route possible in order to minimise their casualties. We become cannon fodder."

"We?" Wright asked. "I daresay, Mr. Huntington, I doubt you will be landing under fire."

"Shall I say the same for you, General?" Huntington answered, taking a long sip from his ice water.

"Enough," Hamilton commanded, throwing his intelligence officer a cold stare for while correct he had crossed the line. "I will take this issue up with the Admiralty and undoubtedly the Foreign Office. Until we receive a response, General, prepare a new plan to take the island from the east and James," Hamilton addressed his intelligence officer by name instead of rank as a slight public rebuke, "you will assist General Wright in any way possible."

General Wolfe listened half heartedly as the other officers droned on. Talking was not what we was trained to do, he had come, discussed his proposed plan and received little resistance and was now ready to start the final planning. He took out his secure blackberry and sent a message off to his command back on the carrier. It ordered his communication officers to issue the orders to bring in the rest of the amphibious fleet from the Commonwealth. At the moment the majority of the heavy ground forces remained in port back in Delesa. The fleet had sacrificed readiness for speed and in the process left the low loading procedure behind as the ready part of the fleet headed out.

The new fleet, which would combine under the current command, would be lead by a Commodore until they make it to theatre waters. New vessels would include, HMDS. Juno (King Leo Class Battleship), HMDS. Vigilante (SSBN Ohio Class Ballistic Missile Class Submarine), HMDS. Prince of the North, Influence, & Reprisal (Duke Class-Type 23- Frigates), many LSV Logistic Support Vessels along with HMDS. Greater & Hollow Days (Wasp Class Amphibious Assault Ships) and HMDS. Arrogance & Delight (Albion Class Landing Platform Docks). With the new additional support it brought the number of Commonwealth ships up to eighteen ships, not including the landing ships.

Wolfe smiled “I think that does it here. As for sending a message to our fleet it is unnecessary, I can relay the message.” The two Commonwealth officers stood. Wolfe nodded to the other officers, “See you on the flip side.” He gathered his brief case and led his security party out and back onto the deck, where they boarded the Super Stallion.

***

Captain Connor McInnis stood leaning on the periscope, arms crossed. His grey hair deceived his true age was painted a strong picture of his experience. He was only 39 and yet the features of an old man raked his face, but his eyes remained as youthful as a child’s. The 1MC played soft music of Irish bagpipes and music of war; pipes, drums, horns. He beamed a wide smile, closing his eyes, tapping his right foot gentling on the steel-grating floor. The shark pin on his chest was polished so that it seemed to shine; the shark rather then the American dolphin depicted a true combat submariner in the Royal Commonwealth Navy. The Vigilante ball cap he worn slightly back on his head, angled sort of upwards, a pair of aviator glasses hanging from his uniform’s breast pocket.

“Ah, that is some damn good music.” He said to his XO, Lieutenant Yuri Yassof. He was not fond of the music but his touring with the Captain had almost made it grow on him, but the question still nagged him how a people could invent that squealing bag music.

“Yes sir.” He replied. The Captain was in a good mood, everyone was. It wasn’t everyday a ballistic missile boat got a chance to fire her weapons in anger. That was just her mission. Or believed to be anyways as nothing had been confirmed yet. The idea going around was the boat would use her non-nuclear missile load and destroy land targets inland on the Novajev island to assist the ground forces in taking the island easier. But Fleet Command was known to pull fast ones, always keeping officers in the dark until the last moment, a way to keep their officers on their toes. It worked well, the officer corps was well disciplined.

OOC: I don’t have any problem with that, while I normally prefer to RP the details when I can, I’m pretty sure we can all agree the meeting served its purpose ICly and we can move on.

Unlike General Wolfe, Mulyavin enjoyed a civil conversation whenever he could get the opportunity to take part in one, and as far as he was concerned, he found that given the subject matter and the persons present, it had been a very good conversation. Though had he known that his words would have caused concern among the Oceania, he might have clarified his intent; that being since Delesa and Oceania were close allies they would best be able to deal with the East together given its denser population centers, heavy woods, numerous farm complexes and ridges. This was unlike the Western portion of the island, which had more open areas to best allow the Kilrany and the Diggledom room to move and stay apart from each other given their lack of previous military cooperation.

As the various representatives began to disperse from the room for their helicopters and ultimately to go back to their respective fleets, Mulyavin, his two staff officers and Lieutenant Commander Rossi remained behind for a few more minutes. Back up on deck each group of representatives would be greeted by a single 5th Division operative who would hand them a simple white envelope containing a print-off with the code protocols to allow each task force to securely communicate with the other. It was quietly noted though by 5th Division operatives that this was more of a benefit for the Kilrany and Diggledom, as they assumed the Oceania and the Delesa would have their own communication arrangements for such an occasion established long before this incident.

It was only after the last had left the room that the four officers took their leave as well, each to go back to their respective duties, though Rossi would first report in to Admiral Roerich and Brigadier General Mulyavin would take a trip to the ship’s CIC to have his own exchange with the Admiral. They left the clean up of dishes to the kitchen staff and the recovery of the antiquated projector to the 5th Division operatives who had originally dug it out of a locker somewhere on the carrier.

After a walk at a casual pace through the passageways of the large fleet carrier, Mulyavin found himself inside the CIC next to Roerich some eight minutes later.

“So it went that well did it? I’m surprised; I would have expected more resistance to the notion of us taking what is considered by most to the prize target. Do you think they may land where they wish regardless, and only intended to appear to agree with us?”

Mulyavin grunted in amusement at the Admiral’s cynicism, knowing it was a rather common trait for most Kilrany, “I didn’t get that impression from any of them, even my Delesian counterpart … Wolfe it was, while a little curt, seemed to be on the level and had a fairly well laid out plan of attack on the Southeast.”

“Huh, well then, I suppose we should count ourselves lucky in that regard then,” briefly she checked the time on her watch, which read thirteen twenty-three, “The Poseidens are just about in position, I intend to have them initiate a full barrage on any SAM site, or exposed mercenary position that hasn’t offered surrender by fourteen hundred, I’ll have them make the bridges a target for their main guns as well.”

Mulyavin nodded his head in appreciation, and then wondered at something he asked, “You don’t intend to use your aircraft?”

She shook her head slightly, “No, not yet, not when I have the option to shell targets instead. Their SA-17s don’t concern me as much, they’re a threat yes, but they’re easy to spot and destroy with naval artillery given our superiority here at sea. The Tunguskas and MANPADs however are the concern for me, we have no idea how many of those bloody Tunguskas they have and they can easily hide and engage any CAS I send in just now. For the time being you’ll have to rely on our Poseidens.

Mulyavin shrugged, while he knew his men would miss close air support for the initial run in, he also knew that having three Poseidens sitting off-shore at their beck and call was no small thing, and would easily provide all the fire support they could need on the Southwest of the island. Though he did add, “Will that include helicopters?”

Roerich frowned slightly, she didn’t want to leave the naval infantry without air support, but the threat of effective anti-aircraft weapons was too much for her to risk at this time, “Not entirely, I don’t intend to leave you without air support, but until we have a better picture of the air defenses remaining on the island, I wouldn’t count to heavily on it.”

The General grumbled lightly but he understood the Admiral’s reasoning, there were just to many threats to justify the close air support over the naval fire from the Poseidens and other vessels, though he knew he could still readily count on CASVAC should it be needed. A moment later he nodded his head and continued, “Very well then, it’s understandable,” then he chose to change the note of the conversation, “I’m told the infantry are looking forward to this landing. They’ve got their new Laikas, UBGLs and the Russkyan designed ammunition for the five forty-five and nine point three by six-four.”

Roerich chuckled in amusement at the General’s reference to the Russkyan weaponry, already run through trials and used by the Imperial Guard, the Naval Infantry were all happy to acquire the new weapons produced by KIAM, though there was still some concern in regards to the bull-pup assault rifle, mostly that it might not stand up to being used to bash in someone’s face in the event of close quarters combat without damage to it being taken, “I’ll bet, I’ve read the documentation KIAM provided about them through their own tests and with the Russkyan documentation, the ammunition was a particularly interesting read.”

Their conversation digressed over the subject for several more minutes before the Admiral chose to bring it back specifically to Novajev and asked a more pressing question, “When do you intend to send your men ashore?”

Mulyavin’s response was a few moments in coming as his landing plan flashed through his mind, “I’m considering tonight, around sunset, to take advantage of the night. However we know the mercs have night vision equipment, so there is limited advantage in it.”

“Why so quickly?”

“The loyalty of the mercenaries is wavering, Ekster, or whoever is commanding this whole damned thing, surely knows of this by now, but thanks to our jamming they shouldn’t yet know who still supports them. I want to take advantage of this confusion now before they can find out who will continue to fight, leave them uncoordinated and cut off as we move in.

“Makes sense to me. Do the other fleets know this?”

Mulyavin shook his head, “No, oddly enough the subject of when we would all land never came up. But when they have the communications set up on their end, I intend to let them know.”

-----

OOC: Just to note, this small brief was written with information given to me from Diggledom over OOC conversations in regards to it.

Some twenty kilometers to the South of Novajev in the area that would have been denoted as the generally excepted line that marked the island’s national waters, a Kilrany submarine slowly came about in the relatively shallow waters to take it back to its homeport. With an evident increase in surface warships in the area and a communiqué from their command as to the situation, the submarine’s commander had decided they had risked as much as they dare in investigating the stricken Diggledom submarine.

Their short investigation had not revealed any treasure trove of information that it could have had the situation been different, and even the 5th Division operatives were hesitant to press too much within the craft lest they betray their presence to any future recovery team. The crew of the Diggledom vessel had clearly found the time before they had to fully abandon ship to initiate proper protocols in the destruction of critical, classified data, and given the location under water, and its rather water logged state, the Kilrany could not access their electronics to investigate them.

Despite this however they had learned some useful information, though mostly only relating to the technological advances currently achieved by the Diggledom, which as far as they could tell, pegged them as being on par with Kilrany military technology, at least as far they could infer based of their visual inspections. A great deal of concern had been given to the craft’s power plant, mostly in concern of leakage from the nuclear reactor, though they quickly noted that the crew had also had the time to complete an emergency shutdown, and high levels of radiation were not detected before they left.

The helicopter ride back to the Guryev was relatively quiet. The officers onboard the helicopter were slowly sorting through the information they had received, flicking through the briefing packs, tallying up numbers of enemies, weapon lists and location information. When they landed on the carrier all the people who had been present at the meeting moved to one of their own briefing rooms, beginning their own planning meeting.

“What did you think of the foreigners then Johnson?” Kurzev asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee, before pouring one for the rest of the staff present.

“They don’t seem that bad. I noticed that they had some pretty heavily armed people dotted around and from the lack of reactions from the crewmembers I would say that they were often that heavily armed, despite being aboard their own ships. It might have just been for us though. Despite his slightly short manner I think Wolfe is someone we can trust, insofar as we can trust any of them. What did you make of the Oceanians?”

“I don’t really know. They were pretty quiet during the meeting and they have brought the largest fleet, except for the Kilrany of course. They might bear watching, I don’t know what their objectives are, but if they wanted to they could cause lots of problems. I think we should probably keep a satellite eye on the activities on the eastern side of the island, if only for safeties sake. What do you think of our landing zone?”

“It could certainly be worse. If the Kilrany bombardment did any good at all then it will have cleared out the enemy forces in Malyshev, meaning that our initial landing should be relatively easy. If we encounter large enemy concentrations then we can use your ships to provide fire support. Of course, we will need to reconnoitre the landing site first, but that can be done today and hopefully won’t take that long. When we are ready we will contact the Kilrany and tell them we are ready to deploy the troops.”

The admiral turned to the two analysts, “Do either of you have any suggestions in regards to the next few steps in the military operations?”

The more senior analyst, a Sergeant Janine Deherd, spoke up, “While the information the Kilrany have relayed to us is accurate and comprehensive we have no guarantee that they haven’t withheld any information, or that their surveillance equipment is as advanced as ours. I would recommend that we request a flight of Dragon-ladies to supply our own intelligence; if they stay at high altitude then it is unlikely that anyone will object to their presence and they may even not be detected by the Novajev forces. If we do deploy them then it would be best to inform all the force present that we have them in the area, if only to prevent political incidents. In all other regards everything seems to be going fine. Once we insert a recon team we can check the beaches for suitability and if we insert more than one we can observe the enemy forces in the area. I would advise inserting four, one to check the beach, one the town, one the AA site and one for back-up in case something else happens.”

“Very well, we will do that. I will start the preparations now.”

---------------------------------------

Onboard the Laurent, an Ivan Rogov Class ship, the preparations for the recon had begun as soon as Johnson’s message had arrived. The matrose that had to deliver the message to the naval spetznaz section was understandably nervous; the door to the spetznaz section had skull and crossbones spray painted onto it, with blood red writing underneath saying “Enter at your own peril”. He knocked once and when the door opened handed the briefing file to the person that emerged before leaving quickly, mentally promising himself that the person who came out of the door wasn’t covered in real blood.

Felix stayed in the door way, watching as the matrose quickly headed around the corner before he started laughing, wiping the fake blood off his face. They had been messing around before they had heard the knock on the door, so they had quickly covered him in the fake blood before making him appear, standing there, blood dripping from what appeared to be a deep gash above his right eye.

He opened the file even before he reached the rest room, where the rest of the section were laid out, playing on a game system they had hooked up to a projector, displaying the game screen along one wall.

“Shit guys. It is happening, we have our marching orders!” he exclaimed, as he digested the new information that the orders presented him with, “Get the kit together guys, I will brief you as we sort the kit out.”

A chorus of “Yes sarge!” echoed through the room as the rest of the team quickly got up and started to prepare.

---------------------------------------

The rest of the day was spent preparing for the insertion. The four man section had been reinforced with two pairs of mission specialists, the eight men then packed all their weapons and equipment into dry bags, each weighted slightly, so while they wouldn’t float under normal conditions, they would provide little in the way of obvious weight while submerged. It had been decided that they would insert using DSMI’s.

The DSMI was a specially designed piece of equipment, the name standing for Diggledom Submersible Manned Inserter, essentially it was a highly efficient propeller system mounted onto a board that the operator could hold onto, allowing them to be silently inserted with no surface signs of their passage.

Each of the spetznaz checked that their individual DSMI’s was working before sliding beneath the waves, dragging behind them their dry bag full of equipment. If all went well they would land as the light started to fade, appearing on the beach just north of the hill to the west of Malyshev.

Commander Brent Nelson sat on top of his footlocker. He wore black combat clothes, no patches, and no rank. He was an agent from the Commonwealth Intelligence Agency or CIA and wasn’t really in the Armed Forces, rather the rank was given to all operatives so that they would have command or respect among the Armed Forces as the two worked almost hand in hand. He was the commanding officer of the Intelligence and Recon Team (IRT). His team consisted of five men from various branches of the government. Two of the men are from the CIA, himself and Commander Liam O’Connor. Commanders Sean Murphy and Rory Dillon from the Majesty’s Secret Service, and finally two men from the Joint Commonwealth Special Task Force, Master Sergeants Eric Ford and Jeff McGinnis.

The team was assembled in the forward torpedo room of the HMDS. Constant, they kept to themselves for the most part, mostly preparing themselves for the upcoming mission. They had parachuted into the cold ocean in a HALO jump, in a predetermined location where the Constant waited to pick them up. All their equipment had already been loaded on the submarine when she left dock, the containers labeled SPAM, it came to a shock to the captain when Nelson had opened the containers without saying a word and discovered the weapons and supplies. Murphy looked out the sight of his scope on his M40A1 rifle; he replaced the caps and placed it back in its water tight sealed bag. Dillon checked on the condition of his Glock 23 pistol and silencer, before putting it back into his backpack. Meanwhile the Sergeants carried most of the heavy weapons including an M249 Para automatic weapon, FN SCAR, and SIG P226 pistol each with plenty of ammo for each. Meanwhile the rest of the squad carried their specialty, Murphy and his sniper, Dillon and his C4, and carrying the new standard assault rifle for the Armed Forces, the Barrett M468 assault rifle.

The boat’s Captain stepped through the hatch, “Alright we are almost in spot. Get ready.”

“Have been since the moment we got our guns.” The team laughed. The Captain just turned and left the room. The submarine surfaced, dead in the water. The moon was behind large clouds. The forward hatch was popped open and the IRT team climbed out with all their packs, they inflated a rubber raft. The Captain watched from on top of the conning tower. The raft sat on the hull deck. Nelson waved to the Captain who clicked on his radio. “Chief take us down, periscope depth.”

“Aye sir, periscope depth.” The Constant slowly slipped beneath waves, the raft left floating in the wake. The team pulled down their black balaclavas and pulled out small paddles and begun their journey to the shore. The distance was closed and the team lowered their profile, just cruising onto the beach. They jumped out, Ford and McGinnis ran into the nearby tree line, clearing the area, meanwhile the rest of the team got into delta formation around the raft. Ford reappeared and waved the team forward. They pulled the raft into the tree line and disappeared.





ooc: wow i don't know, but that post seems like crap to me, so im sorry of it was. i just wanted to get something on the thread about my advance team.

At precisely fourteen hundred hours local time, not long after the three various military representatives had left the KIN Relentless, the three Poseidens on the South coast of Novajev opened fire with their main guns on the SA-17 site far to the Northwest, on the hill near the towns of Malyshev and Tjukovsk. While the large caliber naval rounds pounded the area and decimated the equipment, no man was killed as the assigned crew had abandoned the site along with the defensive personnel, all had chosen to go down the hill and join the surrendering mercenaries in Tjukovsk.

While their twelve main guns engaged the distant SAM site with high explosive shells, the secondary bank of ten one hundred and fifty-two millimeter guns along their Starboard side opened up with a much higher rate of fire on the SA-17 site near Zhideijev. Here they not only found the vehicles as targets, but the personnel set to operate them as well, having been unsure what to do, they were caught in the open as they attempted to break down their equipment and relocate it to another position. The shrapnel from the smaller caliber high explosive rounds easily sliced through the thin armour of the exposed TELAR and their command vehicle, only the mercenary soldiers still in their trenches holding the defensive position until the crews were ready to move out were relatively safe from the artillery fire.

As the Poseidens dealt with their first assigned targets on the Northwest and West of Novajev, the escorting Destroyers, the Udaloys and Sovremennys used their gun mounts to engage the Southwestern SAM site South of Anjukov. Here, so close to the capitol of the island, the mercenaries had been less willing to abandon their positions and their vehicles remained in their defensive works, partially protecting them from the fire they were now taking, though this did not help the radar systems or missiles carried upon them that were shredded by the heavy naval gunfire.

The Kilrany naval personnel were rather pleased as their guns belched out fire and death upon their current adversaries, it was not often that they had the opportunity to fire their weapons in anger upon anyone, at least not since the FLRJ civil war, where they had supported the Russkyan landing. Very seldom was there a situation where the Kilrany could use their naval guns to achieve superiority over their enemy without being required to put their aircraft into jeopardy first with such relatively heavy air defenses.

After two full minutes of fire on their first set of targets, the KIN vessels shifted their fire to the Eastern SAM sites, despite the insistence by the Delesian and Oceania officers that they could take care of the SA-17 sites themselves, Admiral Roerich chose to order the fire support flotilla to engage them nonetheless out of a desire to see them taken down immediately, hoping to get at least high altitude air support in as quickly as possible. Though she also did this as a show of camaraderie, her way of expressing that despite them being foreign forces, the Kilrany military would support them in their part of the invasion of Novajev, no ill will or intent to ‘steal the glory’ as it were, was intended.

Being farther away from the source of the artillery however, the accuracy of the fire suffered slightly, and a round for the main guns of one of the three Poseidens fell far too short and struck within the town of Kurlov. The heavy twelve hundred kilogram round smashed through the wooden roof of a two story home before it exploded, obliterating the house and three more tightly packed near it, the concussive effect shattered windows throughout the town killed a number of civilians and a handful of mercenaries within.

At this rate the vessels were expending a tremendous amount of ammunition in order to allow the carriers of the respective military forces present to, in a relatively safe manner provide their ground forces with air support. Despite this their target list was not yet complete, and after a fifteen minute ceasefire as fire support flotilla came about from West to East to maintain their position and for surveillance assets to asses the damage, they began to open fire once more, this time on the two bridges linking East and West Novajev together. A much more difficult target for artillery, it was only the main guns of the Poseidens that fired upon the bridges, the smaller guns lacking the power to effectively destroy the heavy structures.

Massive plumes of water and earth erupted around the bridge West of Botresky, terrifying and killing mercenary soldiers dug in to keep it secure, their trenches offering little protection against the four hundred and six millimeter shells as they ripped the earth asunder. After two full salvoes from the large vessels, a pair of rounds finally came close enough to do significant damage to the bridge’s structure, one landing on the East end where the bridge met the road, and the second striking atop the bridge near its center, shattering the concrete that it was made of, effectively rendering the bridge useless.

The Poseidens were somewhat more lucky with the Southern bridge and several shells struck it in the first salvo, however unlike the Northern bridge, either side of the Southern bridge were inhabited, with numerous homes making up a small village on either side. As several sections of the bridge began to collapse and a second salvo saturated the area, many of the still inhabited homes were annihilated by both the explosive and concussive forces of the heavy artillery barrage.

By fifteen hundred hours the naval gunfire from the fire support flotilla had died off, all their primary targets saturated with fire and their commanders content with the damage sustained, several supply ships were brought up alongside the flotilla and ammunition was slowly trickled across to them in the many hours between early afternoon and nightfall in the late evening. There was no longer a fear of counter attack from Novajev missile or artillery batteries as they were all believed to be destroyed, though radar operators continued to keep a close eye on their screens.

-----

From their out of the way hiding positions the four 5th Division reconnaissance teams kept a low profile as they heard the deep thundering roar of the Poseidens guns and the sounds of their shells striking home. They had been briefly informed of the situation, passively receiving a situation report from the Relentless in regards to the invasion planned out with the Diggledom, Delesa and Oceania, and while they thought all was progressing a bit too rapidly, they prepared to move out once again when night began to fall to assist in the operation. For the two teams on the East, they were mostly concerned with remaining out of sight of even the Delesian and Oceania forces out of concern of being mistaken for hostiles.

As the afternoon wore on into the evening and the sun began to set in the sky, the mercenary forces spread out over the island were still mostly cut off from their command structure, though some had managed to secure several land line phones to maintain limited contact. Those still loyal to the Ekster, either through fear of surrendering to an unknown force, or who just valued the money, were hardly being idle, including those still cut off from their command who took their own initiative. Knowing they couldn’t hold the beaches in a straight up fight, they chose to fortify their positions farther inland, concentrating their forces there with minefields and heavy weapon emplacements.

Around Klischev and Kurlov in the Northeast, anti-tank mines were being set up along the roads in critical areas with anti-personnel mines set up nearby to discourage combat engineers, these were however in small numbers and thus sporadically placed. In the Southeast, where communication was still held by many loyal mercenary forces, proper combat engineers were placing large minefields along the South and East road leading out of Khabarovsk and around Saprovo. Only the Khabarovsk minefields however were watched over by heavy weapon positions as a large number of mercenary forces had chosen the city their place to stand their ground, creating killzones for approaches from the South and East, while the West was looked after by two mechanized platoons and the heavy armour platoon hiding in the edge of the woods upon both sides of the road just South of Nogorsk where they could easily use their mobility to counter-attack. Only infantry and a handful of BTRs as their heavier vehicles defended Ritkova and a smaller infantry force had been moved to guard the gap in the two forests East of the town, where another minefield was set to deny passage in the gap.

The immediate area around the Northwest was clear for the most part of heavy enemy positions as the large force of mercenaries who had decided to surrender had drawn more like minded men to their position in Tjukovsk. Here they had dug in but every flagpole and vehicle flew a white flag and they conducted patrols only a half-kilometer from the town to ensure that they were not attacked by other mercenaries still loyal, as they themselves were unsure of the situation across the island.

It was not completely barren of hostile mercenaries however as the wooded hills around Volkova were turned into defensive positions and mines and weapons positions were places covering the roads towards the small town. Korovask was also being built up by two platoons worth of motorized infantry, their BTRs were dug in and their infantry set up to hold the town.

No where however where the defenses more heavily entrenched then around the city of Anjukov, heavy minefields were set along the roads and several areas passable by heavy armour, anti-personnel mines were set up in support of them and both heavy machineguns and anti-armour missile emplacements were dug in and set up with mutually supporting fire zones. Mechanized assets were dug in deeply on the South and North of the city, some as far North as hill 124 just South of Zhideijev.

Even within the seemingly loyal mercenary forces, there was still dissent, many didn’t want to die in a lost cause as they believed the Kilrany offer was genuine and would rather accept it, but many were unable to act upon it for fear of being shot or imprisoned by their former comrades. This didn’t stop Vrubel or his friends he had managed to speak with in Klishev, the shelling they had heard and even felt only encouraged them to leave more, though they continued to wait for nightfall.

Neither the Delesian or Diggledom reconnaissance teams would encounter any hostile forces as they came ashore as those mercenaries still willing to fight had mostly all pulled back towards their defensive positions, while those who would have just as soon surrendered stopped sending out their patrols and took up their own positions where they flew white flags, made of any white coloured material they could get their hands on.

Several such locations included Bykhov, Kharovo, Voronezh, Bilikov and Voska, all with small one to two section infantry and mechanized sections unwilling to fight for the Novajev anymore. More were still spread out across the island in various isolated positions, choosing to wait where they were in hiding in woods and small groves until they could properly surrender, unfortunately however some of those isolated positions had no desire to surrender for fear of ill treatment, and were just as determined to fight.

OOC: I realize I’ve been a little vague on a few things in this write up, but I really just wanted to acknowledge your recce teams getting ashore while updating the situation. At least this way you have general ideas where you can go and what you might see there, at which point I can be more specific.

“When they said you was high classed, well that was just a lie…” Sean Murphy sung quietly as he looked down the scope of his M40A1 sniper rifle. Rory Dillon was lying next to him looking into a pair of binoculars, his Barrett M468 slung on his back.

“You ain’t nothing but a hound dog.” Dillon chirped in a high stringy voice, then laughed.

“Dillon shut the fuck up man. You just ruined it for me. I hope you’re happy with yourself.” Murphy clicked next on his ipod without even taking his eye off the sight. The sing switched to ‘Stuck in the middle with you.’

“Wind. Two right.”

“Two right, check.”

The two men had broken off from the rest of the group during the night to go to their assigned task, create mayhem in the enemy ranks. It was truly what the MSS was good for, silent killings, basically assassinations. Murphy was originally from the 13th Mechanized Infantry, but his crack shot got him selected to join the MSS, where he trained with Special Operations Sniper School in Regina. That’s where he was paired up with former IRA gunman Rory Dillon. Murphy being as Irish was one could be without being born in Ireland, and Dillon a true Irish lad, the two got together swell. They where now perched on top a small hill close to 500 meters away from a suspected enemy position. Intelligence had been wrong, it wasn’t any large operation rather just looked like fox holes, a small platoon maybe even a squad size unit. Although disappointed, they continued with their mission. They watched carefully picking possible officers or leaders in the group, determined on who did the most bossing around and yelling and little work. Soon a target had been picked and the crosshairs of Murphy’s sniper scope sat squarely on his forehead.

“Bang bang baby.” Murphy said as he squeezed the trigger.

---

HMDS. Vigilante
On board the HMDS. Vigilante operating with the second part of the Delesian fleet still entering the theatre of operations, came up to periscope depth to receive data from Fleet Command. Captain Connor McInnis removed the key around his neck and inserted it into the missile control console, his XO doing the say after reading the orders and confirming the authenticity. “Alright lads.” The Captain said softly. He nodded to his XO, who nodded in return, understanding the order.

“Prepare missiles, open bay doors. Load target data. Authorization, Charlie Hotel Zulu Five Oh Five Foxtrot Victor.”

“Authorization confirmed. Target data download. Two minutes until flight path and target data upload complete.”

“Arm missiles one through six.”

“Arming missiles.” The Vigilante carried twenty-four Trident II missiles in two rows of twelve; each is capable of carrying up to 12 MIRVs (multiple independent re-entry vehicles), each with a yield of 100 kilotons. The Commonwealth of Delesa did not partake in the SALT treaty talks, hence does not follow the guidelines set down to reduce the payload.

“Confirm with Fleet Com ready to fire.”

“Confirming…” The radio operator watched the screen and various lights. One of them flashed green. “Confirmed. Ready to fire on your mark.” The XO took one final look at the Captain.

“Sir?”

“I’ll take over. Fire missiles, I repeat fire missiles.” He pressed a large red button beside his key, same as the XO. He took his thumb off. “Hell that there is the Commonwealth’s first shot. Be proud lads that it was our honour.”

“Missile’s have been launched and have cleared the tubes.” The missiles streaked towards various locations all over the south east and interior Novajev defense locations and strong points determined by satellite images and weak intelligence.

Captain Connor walked over to the 1MC microphone, “Hear that? The Vigilante has done a great duty today. We have paved the road for the upcoming land assault. That ought to wake a few of the buggers up. A round on me when we get home.” If we get home he thought to himself as he hung the microphone. Connor smiled as he could hear the sound of the crew cheering throughout the boat. He shook his head with a wide grin on it. “XO has the bridge.” He turned and retired to his cabin.

“XO has the bridge, aye sir.” The XO turned to the boat’s chief and nodded, then chief then smirked in turn. He walked over to the microphone and tapped the button down and turned on the nearby stereo system and suddenly the theme music from the movie Austin Powers begun to play. It was like the unofficial anthem to the Vigilante, it was the Captain’s favorite movie and of course it was against boat regulations set down by the Naval Board, but it was over looked in the name of good fun and games, a way to keep moral high.

---

HMDS. Juno
Commodore Jason Frank stood in the CIC room on the HMDS. Juno a King Leo Capital Battleship, a Delesian D4 Industries design. The class displaced 35,000 tons, had a length of 237.9 m and a beam of 62.2 m. What was interesting about the design of the ship was that rather instead of normal propeller propulsion found on other battleships in the world, the Leo Class utilized water jets, and had two Rim-driven thrusters to aid in tight maneuvering. The reactors used a combination of nuclear, diesel, and electric power, allowing for a low signature and short complete turn off time. Although as if the size weren’t enough, she was armed to the teeth. Retaining the large 16 in (406 mm) guns of her Iowa Class sister, they have become modernized, requiring less staff and making the reloading process faster. Also she bared AIM-7 Sparrows, Mark 15 Phalanx CIWSs, GWS 26 VLSs (64 cells/pods), Mk 54 torpedo launchers and Mk 13 Missile Launchers. Powered by not one but two of D4 Industry’s Phoenix D-2 Reactors she surged through the water with a clean hull at 32 knots. A major down side is don’t ask the Captain to go flank speed then stop and expect her to stop quickly. None-the-less she was a beast, a beast the Royal Navy enjoyed having.

Commodore Frank was put in temporary command of the small fleet of transports as a first step to his full promotion to Rear Admiral soon. His vessel was also to use her weapons to support the landing, shelling the shoreline and as far inland as her weapons would allow. He checked the paper charts still used by some Captains in the Royal Navy and pulled out a ruler. He beamed, the force was right on time, if not ahead. At this rate the smaller fleet would hook up with the Admiral’s fleet by nightfall and begin the landing operations at dawn. He could smell the gold rings.

“Sir, Vigilante has fired her missiles.”

“Excellent. Inform the Admiral of the firing and incoming payload, order the Vigilante back to her patrol route. Also congratulate the Captain for me.”

“Aye aye sir.”

I'm sure somewhere in here I failed to mention something I was supposed to, just let me know.

HMS Majestic

"Damn Kilrany mucked everything up," Wright muttered to the maps flat on the table.

"Sir?" one of his staff officers inquired, looking up from the reports compiled by the Kilrany.

"Nothing, Henry," Wright answered, trailing off before raising his head and looking the junior officer square in the eye. "I mean goddamn it, we had it all planned and then they go off to steal the show."

The junior officer looked nervously towards his colleagues, who quietly thanked themselves for not answering to Wright's mumblings. Finding no support, he swallowed. "Indeed, sir."

"Get back to work," Wright snapped.

In Operations, the Royal Navy monitored the airspace in and around Novajev through the airborne command platform flying a simple racetrack platform east of Novajev and within the protective envelope of the fleet's air defences. While on friendly terms with all the parties, Hamilton knew full well that with the exception of the Delesians he could trust nobody.

And it was from the admiral's bridge that Hamilton was now watching the feeds monitored in Operations. "Has General Wright devised a new plan yet?" he asked Huntington, who had just returned from spending several hours working with the general.

"Not entirely, sir. Suffice it to say, Wright is less than pleased."

Hamilton smiled. "I imagine so. While you have been helping General Wright," he continued, his voice returning to a tone of professionalism, "I have drawn up a new naval engagement plan as part of Operation Alethic. Essentially, it entails a preliminary bombardment of key Novajevan defence and military-industrial targets that could be utilised to repulse any amphibious invasion."

"Give me an hour, sir?"

"Very well, and do inform the General that I wish an operational plan on my desk by that time as well."

"Aye, sir."

14:47 Local

"Naval gunfire from Kilrany vessels continuing, Admiral."

"Admiral, Magnificent and Magnanimous report ready as do Warspite, Royal Sovereign, and Valiant."

Hamilton nodded and then acknowledged the rapid reports of various units. He glanced over at Huntington and then General Wright, who had chosen to command his initial ground operations from the Majestic. Hamilton glanced around Operations, where the low-level white light illuminated the sweat on several of the nervous young officers and ratings who had never before been in combat. That would now change.

"Captain, go for Operation Alethic."

The flight decks of the three fleet carriers were rapidly transformed from parking lots to combat airfields as they catapulted fighters and interdictors into the skies around Novajev. Lieutenant Commander Trevor Appleby accordingly loitered until the remainder of his squadron took to the air. Piloting his Kaha'i interdictor, his squadron was part of a group tasked with a low-level approach from the south of Novajev.

Aerial reconnaissance indicated that the Kilrany had been rather thorough with their artillery bombardment–but one important target remained nominally intact, i.e. reparable. As his squadron and his escort formed up, Appleby took his aircraft low, flying just over the sea at supersonic speeds. Overhead, two flights of Kaha'i stood ready to engage any air defence units that managed to 'pop-up' after the Kilrany barrage. And so Appleby hooked to the south, skirting the Novajevan airspace east of Kharovo and then Bykhov to the southwest.

While his squadron raced in quiet, at least electro-magnetically speaking, one of the escorting flights of Kaha'i took to the task of jamming the Novajev airspace while the second stood ready to loose loiter-capable anti-radiation missiles at anybody foolish enough to try taking a shot. As the flight began its turn to the north west of Bykhov they finally broached Novajevan airspace.

Appleby kept his squadron low and supersonic. Speed was his advantage, the interdictor aircraft designed to penetrate air defences at low altitudes and high speeds. Accordingly it was not a wholly stealthy aircraft, but he hoped that by flying up the narrow inlet he would be avoiding what remained of the mercenary air defences.

As the Kaha'i strike group flew towards its target, the eighty-five thousand tonne dreadnoughts Warspite, Royal Sovereign, and Valiant turned their attention to surviving elements of infrastructure deemed worthy of liquidation. Hatches covering vertical launch cells along the decks flew open and smoke washed across the decks of the ships as land-attack cruise missiles soared into the afternoon sky, targeting telephone exchanges, bridges and overpasses aside from the large one west of Botresky, and for good measure what was left of the airfield in the northeast.

After the cruise missiles had been taken, the dreadnoughts swung about to bring all nine main guns to bear. Those trenches and fortified positions that could be identified via satellite reconnaissance were targeted by the forty-six centimetre guns. For good measure until additional targets were identified, the guns also unleashed upon the areas around Botresky and Chilkov. If nothing else they would make any road travel between southern and northern mercenary commands in the east far more difficult and time-consuming. And therefore lethal as the coalition effectively controlled the skies.

After the strike group left the three carriers and the dreadnoughts began to engage the available land targets, the cruisers and frigates attached to the fleet initiated their part of the operation as nearly a dozen reconnaissance drones took to the skies. Stealthy and relatively small, Hamilton wanted them in the air only after he could be reasonably certain of a degree of sanitisation of enemy air defence assets–to be taken care of by the Kilrany and his Kaha'i. They would slowly make their way over the eastern and northern portions of the island, staying high above to provide commanders real-time intelligence on anything that moved, and as night fell, anything that registered warmer than the surrounding landscape.

From the decks of the three amphibious carriers, three Cormorant helicopters lifted off with Royal Marine and Oceanian Army scouts aboard. The Fleet Air Arm took care to position fighters and Kaha'i nearby to deal with any immediate threats as the Cormorants began their low-level ingress towards their respective drop zones. The first flew towards Bitarjev to drop a team near Hill 69 from which they could observe the hillsides east of Kurlov and the town of Bitarjev proper. The second Cormorant angled further north towards the bay between Travoro and Klishev, its team destined for Hill 332, from which it was envisioned they could observe Klishev and any traffic moving south from Travoro. The third helicopter, carrying elements of the Chestershire Regiment, a light infantry unit with mountain and highland training, took a long northerly than westerly route in order to ingress in a valley running between Hills 744 and 722 just east of Bilikov in order to drop a team off that would make its way to 744.

Aboard the amphibious carriers, Royal Marines and Oceanian Army soldiers readied to land north of Bitarjev and south of Chilkov. The veterans readied their equipment and hoped that they would face few obstacles to their landing. More so, they hoped to find the white flags of surrender from the mercenaries. The untested, the lieutenants, captains and privates hoped to land with guns ablaze. The majors, colonels and sergeants all offered fully-knowing half-smiles.

In Operations, Hamilton watched the various pieces start to move. All was proceeding well enough, save for two aircraft with engine problems and one of the Royal Marines scheduled to land near Bitarjev, laid up in the infirmary with some disease of some sort. And then all hell broke loose.

"Admiral, this is coming in from Command," a communications officer spoke, handing over a printout to the admiral. ORNI had detected a strategic missile launch from just outside the theatre of operations and initial telemetry put the targets of the warheads near Novajev.

"Captain, prepare to engage ballistic warheads."

Amongst the fleet escorts were eight air defence cruisers capable of engaging ballistic missile threats to the fleet or the wider theatre. Upon receipt of the order, they began to track at extreme range the independent warheads, launched by an unknown force that Hamilton could only assume to be hostile.

"Somebody find out who the hell is shooting off ballistic missiles!" Hamilton shouted, for a brief moment losing the cool that had heretofore defined his command.

On the encrypted frequencies provided by the Kilrany, Hamilton's command sent out a hurried message to the rest of the coalition forces.

Encrypted Message

Request all pertinent information regarding strategic missile launch. Tracking seven-two warheads targets somewhere in theatre. Considering threat to UK and coalition assets. Preparing to engage.

Hamilton

[OOC: This makes several assumptions, but my understanding is that the Delesian group now entering the theatre that the Vigilante is in proximity to is in the Zuiderzee Strait. Your surface assets would have been identified and it is assumed that a strategic launch, such as Trident IIs, would be yours, rather than the Me'ei dicking with us all by launching in suicide-close proximity to your forces.
Addressed to all: Assume that, with the launch of strategic weapons in the Strait, that the Me'ei People's Navy of Liberation (MPNOL) is surging out to blockade the Strait from their coast out to the limit of Kilrany territorial waters.]

The first response was "Alarm!"

Instead of triggering the crash dive of a U-boat, this shouted warning caused the operator seated next to Zhegor Kolbukhin to lash out with his right hand, slamming the button between them down. This triggered a klaxon and transformed the serenity of the Regional Monitoring Room, Western Oblast, RVVSPO into a rehearsed blast of movement, completed in under thirty seconds. Rolling out of their cots and into their boots, the additional systems operators were seated at their stations and fully aware of the situation at the same time that Kolbukhin's superior burst through the single door leading from the officer's quarters to RMR. The Duty Officer turned slightly, the handset of the direct line to the communications room still pressed to his ear.

Heavily encrypted burst communications from the monitoring centres of all Oblasts were recieved near-simultaneously at the Data Collation Centre adjacent to one of several command positions. Once decrypted, the Skolchoi was immediately convened. From moments after the Trident II missiles had burst from the cold grey surface of the Zuiderzee to the national leader being informed, barely three minutes - one hundred and eighty seconds - had passed.
At the four minute mark, RVVSPO had already alerted RVMF-AV, the Fleet Air Arm. Duty flightcrews were rushed to their aircraft, while Airfield Defence Detachments were at full alert, standing to in their concealed battle positions. By the five minute mark, the safety pins on numerous antishipping missiles and other munitions had been yanked out by groundcrews as pilots conducted final checks. Groundcrew Chief Semyon F. Nikolaev confirmed the count of the flourescent orange flagged pins held up in the gloved hands of two of his subordinates, then sprinted clear of the Tupolev as wheelbrakes were released.

Engines screamed as strike aircraft lifted off into the nearly still air around the airbases in question. Once airborne, the Tu-22Ms and Tu-95MS-16(R) aircraft headed towards Rally Stations, linking up with their Su-37(R) escorts, IL-78 MIDAS refuellers, and their Raid Commander's aircraft. This was the default response to any ballistic launch within the SFR that could be attributed to Naval assets, and was the response to any land-based launch as well: Once airborne, the RVMF-AV's response was much harder to neutralize in one fell blow. Nikolaev held his salute until the last of the Backfires climbed above the low mist covering this area, his duties complete. Snapping his arm down with precision born of the parade square, he carried on to his action station, that being to guard the munitions depot at the airfield. Other airfields launched supporting aircraft.

As a matter of course, A-50 and Tu-95RT aircraft had already been standing by. Recently refuelled, those aircraft banked gently in towards the multinational fleets on the far side of the Central Sea, keeping a respectful distance of a couple hundred of kilometers. Tu-142M3(R) aircraft had been shadowing the Delesian group from a like distance, and the pair of aircraft assigned that task promptly confirmed that RVVSPO was correct in their statement as to where the missiles had been launched from. Coordinating with the RVMF Regional Information Centre, a "canned missive" lacking any kind of diplomatic preamble was promptly dispatched to the Delesian government.


It is unwise to launch ballistic weapons of any kind without the warning of neutral parties in proximity or of allied forces. Such action is rarely conducive to the continued well being of any of your assets deployed to this theatre.

Should these weapons prove to be armed with nuclear warheads, it will take much immediate action by your government to prevent extensive casualties amongst your forces. This action would be taken as you would have proven yourselves untrustworthy, your brash actions providing all evidence required.

Kindest regards,
Viktor Y. Uralov-Petrenchko,
Chief Diplomat, People's Socialist Republic of Russkya


At the eight minute mark, all RVMF assets in the Tsyentralnoye Morye and Zuiderzee Operational Stations had been notified and were taking protective measures. As for Group Vienna, their Force E requirements recently terminated, they about-faced immediately and remained, according to the precise navigation of K1 Shapov's bridge officers and the SIGINT and EINT gathered by the RVMF's sensor systems, two hundred and sixty-three kilometers from the Delesian group entering the theatre. Taskforce Samoilev, of which the Oceanian fleet had been appraised, surged south towards the Zuiderzee Strait while Kontr-Admiral M. L. Uzbenko's Taskforce Milan and Group Gothenburg, under the command of K1 H. I. Oels-Grohe, rounded the south-east of Me'i.

Terse diplomatic signals were sent to the Empire of Kilrany. Lacking any subtly, which took advantage of the tremendous amount of time the Russkyan and Kilrany governments had been friendly to one another, the Ambassador to Kilrany Sergei Foraan was ordered to deliver this message, without modification:


Salutations,

What the fuck just happened, Sviatov? Rein them in before RVMF-AV does something to them they won't like.

Best wishes and most sincere regards,
- Vasily Andreyevich Berko,
Prime Minister, People's Socialist Republic of Russkya

Postscriptum: Are we still on for drinks at the diplomatic event following the Regional Rugby Championship?

All diplomatic messages went through Minister Chase Surreal’s office, the Minister of Foreign Affairs. It was just another average day at the office, communicating with other nations, sending off greetings and such, arranging visits from guests and to other nations. He was sitting at his desk when his secretary came in through the door.

“Mr. Surreal? Message just came in from…” She took a moment to read the name. “Um… Russkya? A Mr. Viktor Y. Uralov-Petrenchko.”

Chase just shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know them, out it the table over there.” Pointing to a small coffee table by the window, several other piles of paper already on it. She did as asked and put it down on top and left the room. Chase continued with his current work, arranging a visit of the Cesibian President to Delesa, and the Commonwealth Leaders Conference where all the leaders of the Colonies and Delesa get together and discuss issues confronting the Commonwealth as a whole. After two hours of hard work and constant changes he finished, both parties satisfied. He got up and walked over to the coffee table, the Russkya message on top. He read over it quickly. Confused he walked back to his desk, paper in hand. He sat down and picked up the phone with his other hand and phoned his associate Minister of Defence Gordan Brigman.

“Hey Gord, Chase here. Just got a telegram from Russkya, advising us not to launch ballistic weapons without warning. You know anything about this?”

“Howdy Chase, and yeah. Russkya rings a bell they are in the area of the Novajev crisis. Orders were given today to fire several missiles from one of our SSBN assets. The conflict is really starting to heat up.”

“Did you think that I could have learned this information earlier? We don’t have many friends over there Gord. This kind of stuff could really damage relations.”

“Well I sent a message to your office earlier in the morning Chase.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No, when have you known me to josh you?”

“Mhm. Seems I have a problem in this office.”

“Would seem so. Anyways if we were to warn every frigging neutral nation in the area about launching missiles, word would slip to the Novajev coast and that’s a given. So if they are unhappy they can suck the warm end of our gun.”

“Yes… well I’ll be sure to tell them that.” The two laughed. “Also we have been deemed untrustworthy. Says so down at the bottom. I’ll fire off a copy to your office so you can put it on your wall. Another accomplishment.” The two laughed even harder.

“Frigging hell, what gives them the idea we would fire at them? It’s the problem living in a hellhole region stricken with warring and neutral nations. Wonder if they’ll get peeved off if my boys start shooting their rifles in their direction on Novajev. Anyways forget them, could you contact Oceania? See what they are up to in Novajev? We ought to stick together, don’t seem to be many friendly nations. You know a lot of them are using soviet machinery? It’s like frigging working with Kreatvye, god that ought to be a sight. Commie bastards. Anyways I got work to do, forms to fill out, orders to issue.”

“Yeah sorry for the bother, just thought I would ask.”

“Glad you did. You going to be at the PM’s party tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll see you there.”

“For sure. Later Chase.” Chase hung up the phone. Damn Gordon was a funny man for such a stressful position he thought. He buzzed the secretary.

“First I think there is a message for me from Defence? Too late now, let’s get it going in there can we? Next could you fire off a copy of this to Defense? And probably the PM as well, he might get a laugh out of it.” The secretary looked at him with a confused face.

“Yes sir.”

“Thanks, also come back in fifteen, I’ll have a message for the Russkya diplomat.”

To Viktor Y. Uralov-Petrenchko, People's Socialist Republic of Russkya
From Minister Chase Surreal, The United Commonwealth of Delesa

Largest apologizes over the misunderstood firing of ballistic missiles in the SFR region from our naval assets. You can rest assured that they are not nuclear capable, rather a conventional missile payload with a Trident missile style delivery.

As you are probably watching the missiles trajectory you will find they are headed for the nation of Novajev. You should be aware there is a conflict starting there and must understand the Commonwealth will not inform ‘neutral’ nations when we conduct missile launches, as this is unsafe for the soldiers, sailors and airmen of the Commonwealth Armed Forces, as well the information could be leaked to sources in Novajev, hence destroying any effectiveness of secrecy and surprise.

I see no need for alarm, and you will soon see that your sudden conclusion to an attack on your nation conducted by us is a false accusation. Furthermore there will be no need for you to bare weapons on any vessel under the Commonwealth flag sailing in international waters. If we have strayed into your national waters, please inform and we will remove all forces henceforth.

Many apologizes;
*Signed*
Chase Surreal
Minster of Foreign Affairs, United Commonwealth

To Pavel Kasatikin, The Empire of Kilrany
From Minister Chase Surreal, The United Commonwealth of Delesa

We come to you with a simple request. After firing ballistic missiles in the region of the SFR we have come under heavy political fire from one of your allies, Russkya. And currently Me’ei naval forces have begun a naval blockade of the channel leading to Novajev. The only way for the Commonwealth troops to remain effective is to have an active route to the open sea and home.

We request use of a path just inside of your territorial waters. After the fire received from the firing of a weapon, we submit that we will cease all firing while traveling in your territorial waters.

*Signed*
Chase Surreal
Minster of Foreign Affairs, United Commonwealth

Coded Message to Coalition Forces

Just recently the SSBN HMDS. Vengeance fired 12 Trident style missiles, loaded with conventional missile payloads towards the Novajev coast. They are armed and actively sending out an IFF type code that should be picked up on radar. Any further concerns, we are happy to reply and solve.

Group Captain Igor Dmitriyevich Taranichev found himself in the role of Raid Commander. Currently his force numbered four squadrons of Tu-22M loaded with antishipping missiles, and two additional squadrons equipped with electronic warfare equipment. The supporting force was half of what was assigned to the Central Sea Operational Station, including A-50s, Tu-95RTs, and the Tu-143M3(R)s keeping tabs on the Delesian group. Endurance was provided by the IL-78 MIDAS group, the primary protection for the "Backfires" being provided by their high speed, with supporting aircraft generally having a Su-37(R) escort.

Other formations were also airborne, part of the immediate action response to any ballistic launch in the region. The problem with joining into regional affairs with which one was only passingly familiar, if not totally uninformed, was that certain nations were generally in a state of tension with other nations, and unexpected ballistic launches could easily trigger other ballistic launches, no matter the intended target. It was a very simple computer operation to determine the target of the missiles - though until they detonated, presumably over their targets, there was no way to know for certain what their payload was. Given the close proximity of a regional ally and the presence of numerous international forces, very little room was left for "maybe it will turn out for the better" thinking.

Knowing full well that the MPNOL's first action would be to attempt to close the Strait, redirection of RVMF surface groups served to hinder Me'ei operations. With the level of tension between the two nations, again heightened by the use of ballistic weapons by a totally foreign force, there was a chance of friction between the two navies. RVMF-AV presence, having beaten their Me'ei counterparts to the sky, would reduce the chances of Me'i choosing to be actively hostile. It was partially an act of operational deception and partially an act of military prudence to have Group Captain Taranichev's force currently orbiting the Delesian surface unit beyond the range of their most powerful currently active RADAR. Aircraft slipped into the appropriate positions to conduct a strike in accordance with one of the more rehearsed plans, again, staying beyond the sensor range of the Delesian unit. As this force was just entering the theatre, it also kept them from stumbling into the sensor range of other forces, though every forty-eight minutes one of the Tu-95RTs stepped briefly through the edges of a RADAR belonging to an MPNOL battlegroup.

Taranichev acknowledged the joining up of four additional squadrons to his formation, assigning them their tasks concurrent with their aircraft and the plan currently being put into play, though the actual attack was so far into the "on hold" that it might as well be said that there was no hostile intent. Except the warheads hadn't detonated yet and the Delesians had, not particularly wisely, chosen to ignore communiques from a government who held what was considered to be a superpower status in the region.

At the hour and a half mark, given that no suspicious mushroom clouds had been reported, all fliers and sailors heaved a silent sigh of relief. It was nearly another hour before Uralov-Petrenchko recieved the message he immediately began drafting a response to.

A former Brigadier of the Russkyan Army, the diplomat found many of the statements odd, even absurd.

Diplomatic Communiqué
Addressed to Minister Chase Surreal, The United Commonwealth of Delesa
Addressed from Chief Diplomat V. Y. Uralov-Petrenchko, The People's Socialist Republic of Russkya

The launching of any ballistic weapon without prior warning, in the current political environment of the SFR, could easily have sparked the launch of numerous other ICBMs. It would appear that the People's Socialist Republic is better informed as to the situation on the island of Novajev than yourselves: Not only is there a conflict ongoing there that has been in progress for some time now, but the forces on the island are blocked from communicating with the outside world through extensive jamming measures and being surrounded by a multinational armada.

Prior notice of the potential use of ballistic weapons in this conflict could have been as simple as an open letter to the governments of the region's nations stating that it is possible nonnuclear ballistic missiles could be used. The few moments it would have taken to draft and transmit such a missive to those concerned would have averted much of the action currently underway in the Central Sea and Zuiderzee Strait. You will notice that it was not nessecary to provide details which would have broken operational security to allay the concerns of all involved. As to the other matters, currently no United Commonwealth forces are within Russkyan national waters.

Regards,
- Chief Diplomat V. Y. Uralov-Petrenchko.
People's Socialist Republic of Russkya

OOC: Just to note, up until the reply by Roerich to Hamilton, this entire post was written prior to seeing the developments between Russkyan, Delesa and the Me’i, I will leave it as is as I think it still manages to fit the timeline and add a response to the newer revelations at the end, though I admit it is rushed so I could get a post up before going to sleep as I have more work again early tomorow.

The Oceania aircraft would find little resistance as they added their own firepower to the destruction of Novajev military targets, as the majority of the mercenary controlled medium range SAM sites had been destroyed, disabled or simply abandoned. There was however one sole exception, their last spare battery had hidden itself in a large grove of trees just North of Skitkova, near hill 148, but even they remained silent, unwilling to power up their systems lest they paint themselves with a giant bulls-eye and be annihilated by the combined might of the various task forces in the area. To make matters worse for them, the mercenaries were undecided; some feared to surrender to the coalition for fear of ill treatment, yet desired not to die in a hopeless cause.

Not even the many remaining, highly mobile Tunguska systems would prove to be a true threat to any aircraft, at least on this evening, the vast majority of those TELAR still alive and functioning had shut down their active systems and were only operating on passive receivers, waiting to spring a trap on any aircraft to come into their range with active radar. For this reason the Oceania CAS aircraft were un-assailed in their flight at low altitude over Novajev, as the only other option open to the mercenaries; their MANPAD systems, were to slow to be freed from their storage before the high-speed aircraft had already passed through the area; this would not be the case unfortunately for future such scenarios.

With their radar systems no longer operational and their remaining air defense systems operating on passive systems, the Oceania cruise missiles met as little opposition as their aircraft did. Before it had been the belief that their Tunguskas would have been able to protect them from limited such strikes, but with so many hostile naval assets about them, they had completely lost the ability to deny air superiority to an enemy. Though the loss of their navy had been the greatest blow to them, both strategically and in terms of morale.

Despite the ease in their flight, there were few targets left for them to hit unless the Oceania had little concern for collateral damage. Aside from the two bridges, one near Botresky and the other near Voska, both of which had been heavily shelled by Kilrany naval artillery, there were no other such large concrete works to be seen upon the relatively small island. Telephone centers were present in several of the larger cities, which served as hubs for all telephone communication across the island, the difficulty however was that these were densely packed urban areas and the buildings in particular that housed these hubs were not easy to discern from those around them, in order to strike one, one would have to hit several structures to be sure it was destroyed, otherwise they were easy targets and would be easily obliterated.

With impunity the large caliber naval guns in use by the Oceania navy pounded their aimed targets, demolishing all that was in the path of those mighty shells. What little was left of the airfield was cratered and battered even further into ground beyond the repair capabilities available to the Novajev, while the roads between Botresky and Chilkov suffered heavily, leaving massive craters in the ground that brought all new meaning to the term, ‘killer potholes’.

There was nary a trench to be seen from the air or from satellite abroad the island of Novajev, long had the mercenaries been weary of such detection and through simple means and proper work, their small slit trenches and dug in vehicles were masked by brush and camouflaged tarps to hide any infra red signatures. These concealed fighting positions were only made all the more devious in their creation with the help of Russkyans among the mercenary combatants and the warm summer heat, only periodically broken by a cool ocean breeze. Thus it was that only the odd infantry patrol could be easily spotted by any electronic reconnaissance from the air, along with a small five-man unit moving away to the Northwest from Khlishev as Vrubel and his comrades quietly escaped into the mountain terrain as night fell.

The Oceania forces were in for even more luck as their Comerant helicopters brought their men ashore, as with their Kaha’i they met little in the way of resistance. Bitarjev had never had a large force in it save for a few mercenaries to help play the role of police, as such they had been quickly pulled out back to their proper units when the fighting broke out, leaving the small coastal town with just a scared civilian population, though roughly a kilometer out from the town down the Southern road, a mixed minefield could be found to slow down any force attacking from that direction. The village of Bilikov was much the same.

Travoro was the complete opposite from Bitarjev in that it had always had a decently sized force present, specifically due to its location next to the airfield, much as the Diggledom had found out when they had moved to extract their last surviving special ops operative some time before hand. A full company of motorized infantry was still present inside the town alongside the two Tunguska anti-aircraft systems that had survived the first shelling of the airfield by the Diggledom. But the Oceania luck held for the time being and these mercenaries had no desire to give up their lives for cash in the name of the Novajev, while their surrender hadn’t been broadcasted, the houses and vehicles they occupied were covered in all manner of white cloth as even bed sheets had been borrowed from the local population to display their intent. Had it been otherwise, the loud rhythmic thumping of helicopter blades would have brought many heavy weapons to bear, rather then weary looks from tired men.

-----

As the day wore on and evening began to pass by towards nightfall, the bulk of the Kilrany fleet on the West coast of Novajev was making its final preparation for the planned amphibious landing. The Relentless, the Kuznetsov class escort carriers, and the majority of the escorting Frigates and Destroyers moved to take up station some eighty kilometers to the West of Anjukov. Here they could safely launch and recover aircraft well beyond the reach of any SAM on Novajev.

At the same time the amphibious elements of the Relentless battlegroup moved in closer on the West coast of Novajev, due west of Barmakov, some two kilometers off the shores. Within the smaller task force were eight Ivan Rogov class landing ships, four amphibious assault ships built in the style of the Wasp class, both Kirov cruisers and a small number of the battlegroup’s Destroyers and Frigates. Without any knowledge of what the Delesian navy had in store after nightfall, the Kilrany went ahead with the planned landing as the sun was fading from the sky. It was not long after the first landing craft left the lead the assault vessel that all hell broke loose.

-----

The area around the community of Bykhov was not one particularly heavily covered in foliage, nor was it one with a great slope about it. Being located on the Southeast of Novajev on a small jutting peninsula, it was very close to sea level compared to the rest of the island, though prominent amongst somewhat dull features was a large stone lighthouse, which was currently shut down to prevent it from helping the various task forces in navigation.

There was only a small, somewhat inconsequential garrison assigned there, mostly to watch the lighthouse for the time being, numbering only two infantry sections in strength. Down to the last man, they would have given just about anything to be anywhere other then on Novajev this day, most regretting ever hearing the offer of a well paying position to play soldier for Novajev.

Unknown to most yet, a good deal of the mercenary forces had no prior knowledge to the plans that Admiral Ekster had, at the time only being offered a substantial paycheck to join a new Novajev Army. Most had falsely assumed that the offer had come from the Novajev government itself, in truth, it partially did if one took into account those members who were in on the plan with the Admiral, and to that end figured the Novajev were simply trying to make themselves more noticeable in their wealth. None of them, not even Admiral Rinat Ekster had foreseen the situation they found themselves in now.

For what seemed like hours earlier in the day, the men on station in the small village had listened to the deep thunderous roar and rumble of the heavy naval guns and their shells, unable to distinguish the difference between those being fired by the Kilrany and those of the Oceania, which would have made little difference to them had they known in any case. Now, with night settling in with an unsettling quiet, the two sections began to try and make due for another night, constantly worrying about when the invasion they saw as inevitable would come.

It hadn’t been hard for them to decide on a course of action when everything started to go wrong, quickly coming to the conclusion that it just wasn’t what they signed up for. Despite this they were a small force, so they hadn’t exactly told their command to ‘go to hell’ until they had received orders only hours before to report in at Khabarovsk. So it was now that not only did they fear an attack by one of the enemy forces surrounding the island, but they also feared a reprisal by the other mercenaries still loyal, or as they called them, ‘the fools’.

As it was, when a single shot rang out in the night, they were hardly surprised, but were still dismayed to see their senior Sergeant killed by a round through his skull, his helmet proving insufficient protection against the large caliber NATO round. Rather instantaneously the second section’s Sergeant found himself with a battlefield promotion and in charge of both and their survival.

As they scuttled deep into their fighting positions to keep outside the sights for any further rounds, the new senior Sergeant wasn’t sure what to do for a moment, “Anyone see where it came from?”

Being night, and there being a limited zone one could approach Bykhov from, coupled with the fact they all had access to night vision equipment and the final fact that the rifle used was neither suppressed nor using sub-sonic ammunition, one of the men to his right called out, “I saw it, looked to be about six hundred out, though I couldn’t tell you exactly where now.”

The new senior Sergeant cursed under his breath, he had no desire to die, or let the men around him die, but he lacked the fire power and number he would have wanted to flush out a sniper at range, and he had no intention of trying to order the two men with FN MAGs to attempt engage them, figuring it would just get them killed. He was also concerned that if they were coalition forces, it would prevent them from getting to surrender, so they kept low in their trenches and did not pop up out of them to try and engage. They were not fools though, and unwilling to simply let and enemy walk up upon them and kill them, a few who had them, used small telescoping periscopes to peer up over the lip of their trenches to keep and eye on the only avenue of approach, and the numerous claymore they had established in camouflaged positions to deal with any attacks by their former comrades.

-----

A muffled curse ran out in the night air just South of Malyshev, roughly a half kilometer down the road from the small town. The source of the curse, a mercenary combat engineer who had jammed his finger under a crate of anti-tank mines received a number of rather nasty looks from his comrades. He was tempted to curse at them just out of spite, but he bit his tongue and held the remark back, he was tired, pissed off and his desire not to die had kicked in, but having little choice available to him he shook the pain out of his hand, lifted the last crate of anti-tank mines off the back of the truck and lowered it to the ground with the help of another.

It’s contents were quickly removed by himself and several of his comrades, and through the green tinge of their night vision equipment they continued to establish a thick anti-tank minefield along the road South and alongside it to slow down any advance. Intermingled throughout were a smaller number of anti-personnel mines to discourage other combat engineers from attempting to remove their mines, or at the very least, slow them down further.

The frustrated engineer glanced up from his duty momentarily towards Malyshev, knowing they couldn’t defend it; they had abandoned the small village and left it to its native population. Finishing with this task, they tossed the empty crate in the back and motored off South towards Korovask, where they had orders to join with several other infantry formations and establish a strong defensive position there and make the pass between Korovask and Malyshev a death trap for anyone to enter.

Personally he scoffed at the concept and would have much rather taken a jog off through the woods and over the hill towards Tjukovsk and joined them, but he knew the majority of his ‘comrades’ around him had no desire to surrender and would have shot him long before he could get in to cover. His hope now was to try and slip away some time before morning from their new destination, which he also hoped, would not be his last.

-----

For the Kilrany, the first sign of a submerged missile launch came roughly two seconds after the first missile broke the surface of the water and burned away from the waves to be revealed by the radar of an AEW aircraft. As was standard procedure even in peacetime, Kilrany airborne early warning aircraft and maritime patrol aircraft flew routine missions; with several airborne at all times, covering designated sectors to provide security for Kilrany and its interests in the SFR. During a state of war, or a heightened alert status; as was the case given the situation on Novajev and the number of foreign fleets in the area, these aircraft were backed up by escorts, at this time a pair of Su-37s.

Despite the detection of the first contact, it wasn’t until the third was detected that the first was properly identified and the alarm was sounded, initiating the warning though the proper command personnel of a submarine launched ballistic missile, in this case, six were quickly reported. While numerous actions were taken and orders given in a matter of seconds after the identification of the threat, the first and most prominent one involved a maritime patrol variant of the Tu-95 Bear, call sign Alpha, Sierra, seven-seven.

On one of many standard patrols, the flight crew of AS-77 was surprised to suddenly find that they were receiving notification from the AEW aircraft responsible for operations in the Southeast that a ballistic missile launch had been detected. It was standard procedure in the case of an un-notified launch of any number of ballistic missiles near the coast of Kilrany, to vector in the closest maritime patrol aircraft in the area to seek out and destroy the submarine responsible immediately, without the need to wait for orders to do so. To this end the pilots pushed the throttle on their formidable turbo-prop engines to full power and banked their aircraft on vector towards the launch position, at nearly mach one, the large bomber would quickly overtake the location in less then ten minutes, and using sonar buoy, begin its search.

As the notification of the launch cycled quickly through the appropriate chain of command, further orders were given and carried out. Already on high alert with the presence of so many foreign fleets, several strategic bomber and fighter squadrons were on hot seat stand-by, armed with the heavier anti-ship missiles within the Kilrany arsenal, within two minutes and forty three seconds from the launch, these aircraft were screeching down multiple runways at numerous airbases and taking to the skies. Among them were Su-37s, mostly armed with air-to-air missiles and lighter weight anti-ship missiles with the strategic aircraft in the Tu-160s bearing the brunt of any naval attack with their heavier bay stored missiles.

At roughly the same time the first aircraft was screaming down the runway, 5th Division had already notified the Kilrany Imperial Palace and placed the KSRF; the Kilrany Strategic Rocket Forces, on high alert. By the time the first aircraft was fully off the runway and raising its landing gear, Emperor Ivan Semyonovich Sviatov had been notified by the Captain of his personal guard, Grigori Hakanov.

By this point the knowledge of a ballistic missile launch had spread to every single military facility in Kilrany along with all her naval assets, initiated MAD protocols at them all. It was also at this point that the ballistic trajectory of the missiles was computed and confirmed as targeted on or near the island of Novajev. Given the small size of Novajev and the number of naval assets present, it was assumed that these missiles, which were also assumed to be nuclear, were aimed not at the island itself, but the warships around it, and while they were launched relatively close to what was believed to be a Delesian task force, the nationality of the launch vehicle was still set as unknown. SIGINT and intelligence personnel began to closely watch the reaction of the Delesian task force, gauging its moves in order to determine if they knew the launch was coming, or if it had taken them off guard as well, assuming they would react with their own ASW aircraft.

To say that Admiral Roerich was not pleased would have been an understatement, through the information available to her in the Relentless’ CIC, she was aware of inbound missiles just moments before the warning came through Kilrany encrypted communication channels. Across the ship klaxons sounded and all available abilities to prepare the ship for a nuclear strike were being taken, while an order to come about on a bearing due West was given. Nearby, General Mulyavin immediately grew concerned for his amphibious strike force, knowing that by now the landing craft were already leaving for shore and that it would be difficult to get them turned around and re-boarded prior to impact.

Seconds later, the on duty communications officer called out again that they were receiving a message, this time from the Oceania, Roerich’s initially thought in her anger that the Oceania felt that they needed to warn the Kilrany of the imminent threat. She was only partially right on the matter, and quickly sent back a reply.

Encrypted Message

Message received, concur threat to our naval forces, information limited but have confirmed launch location through early warning assets from near a Delesian task force approaching the Zuiderzee Strait. Identity of launch vehicle nationality currently unknown.

Roerich

-----

Around this time, the first of the diplomatic messages began to roll in to Kilrany, Ambassador Foraan’s good standing meant that his message had been swiftly carried in through the Imperial Palace to the Emperor to read. As he read the short missive an eyebrow raised, then he laughed good and hard at the addition to the end, taking him out of the foul mood he had come in to upon hearing about a ballistic missile launch off his coast. It was needless to say that 5th Division had been rather pissed off, then again, just about all were and he shrugged.

His own reply was short, but given the lateness of the day and the amount of time he had spent conscious during it so far, his own response was short and concise, but in decent humour and would be personally handed back to Foraan.

Sealed Diplomatic Communiqué

I wish to hell I knew, I had no forewarning of this or you would have been inform, I presume then you have more detailed information then I at this time as to who made conducted this launch? At the time of this it was not yet known for sure, though there were some suspicions so I’m told.

And yes, we are still on for drinks after our team trounces yours, make sure you bring some Pertsovka to celebrate our victory this year.

Signed
Ivan Semyonovich Sviatov

-----

The Me’i were not the only ones to make their presence known in the strait, though less intentional had their presence been initially. Seventh fleet as it was called, though more of a task force, was moving South through the Strait on its way back to the Trinaga naval facility when the unexpected launch had occurred. Rather quickly the commanding officer of the small thirteen strong surface group picked up not only ballistic missiles flying over head and warning from their command structure, but a massive military movement from the Me’i, which concerned the Kilrany greatly given the lack of room to maneuver within the strait.

Weapon systems were armed and battlestations were fully manned when an independently operating group of Corvettes running their own patrol within Kilrany national water nearby, broke off to reinforce the primarily defensive fleet. With no intention of giving the strait up so readily to the Me’i, as the Kilrany saw it as much theirs as the Me’i themselves did, the Kilrany naval command began issuing forth as many ships as they could muster on such short notice, even including a pair of Tiger Shark class Destroyers. The situation was growing more tense by the moment as Me’i warships continued to move in force, little had the Delesian known that their actions had come dangerously close to igniting a full scale regional war and nuclear engagement.

Forming up over Kilrany soil, six squadrons of Su-37s provided escort for four squadrons of the large Tu-160s that made up the bulk of the Kilrany strategic bomber force, orbiting high over head near their maximum ceiling, only awaiting the final order and target to unleash their payloads upon. It was not only the Russkyans who were putting a large percentage of their air force into the sky, fully prepared to make use of them if the situation required it.

-----

As time continued to move, AS-77 arrived above the position where the launch had been detected, as of yet unaware that it was the Delesa, their diplomatic message to Minister Kasatikin had only just been received and was being read by 5th Division intelligence operatives. Fortune acted quickly this day however, as the aircraft’s crew had only just dropped sonar buoys in to the water and were using them to make an active sweep of the area when a priority message from the same AEW that had vectored them in, ordered them to break off their search and return to their original patrol course, explaining quickly that it had been a misunderstanding.

Five minutes after AS-77 broke off from its search and destroy mission, Kasatikin was awakened rather rudely by a pair of 5th Division operatives who had come directly to his home, given only a few minutes to wake himself up, he washed his face with a cold cloth then read the missive given to him after a short brief of the situation by one of the two soldiers. He quickly drafted a reply, but he was tired and he had little room to work in given 5th Division’s apparent view on the situation, so his reply was rather short and to the point.

Sealed Diplomatic Communiqué

To: Minister Chase Surreal

I’m afraid there is little I can do in regards to Russkya, but I will speak to them and do my best to explain that you meant no harm in your intent to strike Novajev military targets and ideally any political difficulties can be quickly diffused.

At this time we cannot guarantee safe passage through the Zuiderzee Strait, the sorties being conducted by the Me’i have forced us to sortie our own fleets in order to preserve our security. We will allow you to use a passageway through our national waters if you believe it is necessary, while we deem that it may be ill advised at this time and would recommend against it, we understand your desire to reinforce for a proper landing on Novajev and we have no desire to cause undue casualties by interfering in this goal.

Kilrany foreign affairs minister
Pavel Kasatikin

The recon team had made good time, allowing them time to stash their DSMI’s next to an underwater rock, marking the location on their handheld GPS systems before getting ready to move onto the beach.

The beach was deserted, so nobody saw the team begin the slow process of checking the beach. The first indication that the Diggledom spetznaz team was there was when a head emerged from the sea, nearly twenty metres from the beach. He barely looked recognisable as a human being, his mask obscuring most of his face and his goggles and wetsuit obscuring the rest. When he had completed the check of the beach to his satisfaction he dived back under the waves to alert the rest of the team.

The entire team emerged from under the waves together, the eight figures each dragging their dry bag out of the sea and onto the shore. As soon as they were above the high tide mark they began to unpack, first unpacking their weapons and loading them, before changing out of their wet-suits into combats, doing their boots up tightly and adjusting their load-bearing vests and bergen’s. After less than five minutes the group was ready to move again, this time moving south until they hit the side of the large hill to the west of Malyshev and north of Tjukovsk.

This was where they split up, the two beach masters and a pair of spetznaz troopers climbing the cliff, before carefully setting up a camouflaged hide at the top. They quickly and quietly shifted some of the loose scree to form a big U shape, before covering it with a pair of sections of cam-net, allowing them to pass casual inspection from long range or from quick over flights. Then while two of them slowly set up a series of high quality observation devices they removed from their backpacks and camouflaged them as far as possible; the other pair worked on the hide, carefully spreading scree and local vegetation over the netting, improving the cam to the point where it was extremely hard to spot, even at closer ranges.

The other four man team had a slightly different mission; they were to move in towards Malyshev, checking the situation at the air defence site before taking up observation positions in the forest to the south, watching the road linking Korovask and Malyshev. Although the small military base that had been at Malyshev had been bombarded by the Kilrany when they sorted through the initial bombardments, the secondary mission for the sniper-spotter pair had been to provide long range harassment and interdictation fire to any mercenary forces in the town upon reception of weapons free orders.

The first foreigner that the saw firsthand the destruction the Kilrany had wrought with the Poseidon’s main guns on Novajev was corporal Aaron Hogg, the leader of the second section of the spetznaz on the island. He slowly stalked forwards, being careful to make as little noise as possible as he walked forwards. In front of one eye he had a night-vision monocular, turning the scene into a mosaic of varying shades of green. The slow approach to the air defence site gave the team time to truly appreciate the sheer destructive power that the Kilrany had unleashed with their barrage; the area around the site was cratered, with evidence of high explosive dealt death strewn liberally around. There were the burnt out carcasses of a pair of TELAR vehicles, massive battle damage evident in the twisted and torn missile racks, ruined tracks and, in one case, the radar housing actually having snapped entirely in half.

The human elements of the weapon system fared no better, leaving little more than stains to mark their presence; a lone boot, with foot still encased within, providing a stark reminder that these marks had once been human beings, walking, talking, loving and living. The four spetznaz operators picked their way through the debris, ignoring the evidence of death. While all was fair in love and war, or so the saying went, there was a certain feeling of injustice surrounding the killing of the mercenaries, who had no real way of surviving the upcoming battles.

A brief search of the air defence site located nothing of intelligence value; the remains of a box of rations, a personal letter addressed to ‘Laura’ and an empty packet of cigarettes being the only things that seemed to have survived the bombardment intact. The team moved on, quickly heading towards the forested area, where they would set up their OP.

After another hour of careful travel the team made it to the forest, quickly moving into the forest, before setting a snap ambush, watching to see if they had picked up any followers when they had moved. They had been in position barely five minutes before the entire situation shifted as a series of missiles were launched from the other-side of the island.

- - - - - -

The missile launch was easily spotted, the sudden heat flare against the relatively cold ocean immediately tripping the automated alert system installed on both the ballistic missile defence satellites and the short duty satellites, launched specifically for the Novajev situation. The seriousness of the action sounding alarms in three separate places. The first was part of the Diggledom ballistic missile defence system, any ballistic missile launched within 5000km of the Diggledom border was immediately assigned a tracking number and was usually monitored and ensuring that if the missile headed towards Diggledom then early warning measures could be put into place.

As soon as the alert was verified by a human analyst; four seconds after the image flicked up onto his monitor; the Diggledom military began their preparations, since the launch was from an unknown military the preparations were slightly more worrying than normal. All military bases began lock down procedures, allowing no-one onto, or off base; missile bases began preparations to launch, missiles were prepared for immediate launches and all anti-ballistic missile defence systems were immediately powered up, several off shore X-band radar stations powering up, transmitting their data to a series of dispersed control centres, combining the input from the seaborne, airborne and several land based radar sites, allowing for an over-view of the situation in and around Diggledom.

An alarm also sounded in the Diggledom based command centre for the Novajev operation, due to the proximity of the missile launch to the island. This alert prompted several of the intelligence analysts to step up their operations, analysing radio transmissions in the area of operations. They quickly located the origin of the missiles and even managed to get a series of high definition pictures of the launch site, in several different modes, visual, thermal and radar among others. They got a faint return off what they assumed to be the launch platform before it dived again, negating the faint return they had been observing. Colonel Strenko was immediately called to the area, calling her in from a meeting with several members of the command structure from her old unit that happened to be in the area. While the analysts and the military officers watched through the various satellite views, the trigger for the final alarm was sent, straight from the Novajev command room to the Novajev expeditionary force.

The final alarm triggered a much more active response. Throughout the fleet NBC warning klaxons sounded. It took the crews less than thirty seconds to get the ships ready for what they fully expected to be a large series of nuclear explosions. Onboard the troop ships the men were quick to prepare for their possible imminent demise, dressed in full NBC suits most sat around, waiting for the all clear to sound. Onboard the two Kirov cruisers in the area a slightly different responses were occurring. As the missile launches were detected both ships immediately began to ready their S-300 missile systems, their radars flared to life, filling the sky around them with energy, attempting to locate and track the ballistic missiles before they finished their flight.

Each ship carried 96 missiles for the system, but only 12 were ready for launch at any one time. This meant the total number of missiles that were ready for immediate launch by the battle fleet was twenty four, more than enough to engage all the warheads that were being launched, but not if they then split down into MIRVs. The targeting computers began to calculate the engagement angles, carefully running simulations of possible targets and planning for the initial engagement of the warheads.

Onboard the Guryev a snap decision was made. In the few minutes remaining to them they would launch the ready aircraft if they could, leaving the planes that weren’t ready for immediate take off behind, with the crews taking cover beneath the deck. A flight of four Su-33’s were the only planes that were prepared to get airborne in the required time, each with a full load of ordinance, including a pair of AS-20 Kayak anti-shipping missiles and a set of unguided rockets. These planes would fly north, away from the island until they discovered the effect of the missiles. If it was deemed safe for them to return then they would return and land on the carrier. If not, then they would try to come to some arrangement with the Kilrany, if necessary ejecting near their shore and hoping they would be rescued.

- - - - - -

The U-2 that was flying overhead watch when the missiles were launched was called Eagle Eye, a slightly unimaginative name for sure, but still one that suited its role as one of the Diggledom Armies most effective airborne recon assets. The rest of the recon flight had been put up in a Germania base, due to a fair exchange between the two governments, running along the lines of; you let us land and service our spy planes and we will give you copies of all the information we recover.

The reasonably long diplomatic history between Germania and Diggledom, with neither side either demanding anything or angering the other allowed such a deal to go ahead. The Germanian air-force was openly interested in the operations of the U-2s and for the sake of diplomatic relations, and the ever present need for members of the military to show off to each other, several of the higher ranking Germanian air force personnel had already had guided tours of the planes that were stationed on their soil. Of course the surveillance pods themselves were off-limits to the Germanian personnel due to their classified nature.

While the launch of the missiles was unlikely to directly affect the over flight, the EMP effects from a nuclear explosion could have caused serious problems for the plane, so they had been pulled back, returning to their base in Germania. Even as they returned, they began to transmit the images they had got through to the satellite, while normally they didn’t activate this feature of the upgraded planes, this time it was thought to be worth it, with the possible imminent war any information collected would hopefully used in a timely manner.

The Germanian fleet was quickly and efficiently pulling back, a series of ultra fast diplomatic exchanges between the Diggledom government and the Germanian government allowing all Diggledom forces in the area to land or dock on one of their bases. In exchange they asked for very little, merely the ability to request support from the Diggledom airborne recon units in a warzone of their choice. While this deal was far from the standard type of diplomatic agreement, it had been deemed appropriate for the situation.

The Germanian politicians were all woken up upon the launch of the missiles, mainly while they were still at home, bodyguards rushing into rooms to bundle them into armoured cars to transport them to safe locations scattered throughout Germania. Since Germania had never had a region-renowned navy, focusing most of its military might on a strong army and air force, they moved any of their naval forces in the strait towards the nearest anchorage before issuing a series of diplomatic message.



Diplomatic Message
To: All nations with naval forces in the Strait
From: Germanian Government
Message contents:
While we are prepared to allow the build-up of naval forces in the strait while they are centred on Novajev, even if it doesn’t take that many of you to invade an island 20 square kilometres, we object to any ballistic missile launch with this close proximity to our nation. To this end, any more launches of ballistic missiles in the strait should be considered a very bad idea. If this happens again we will immediately launch strikes against any fleet which ignores this warning. If you had informed us before launching a ballistic missile in our backyard, as it were, then we would be fine. Since you didn’t, don’t launch any more, or we will be mighty tempted to do the same ourselves.




Diplomatic Message
To: Kilrany, Russkyan and Me'i governments
From: Germanian Government
Message contents:
What just happened down there? We are relying on Diggledom intelligence assets at the moment, but if anyone else knew this was about to happen we would have appreciated you stopping the person in question.


As the diplomatic messages travelled through the electronic ether, to be delivered by their diplomats on station in the countries, or by the slightly less personal medium of standard electronic diplomatic communications, the diplomat who had sent them heaved a sigh, what had possessed someone to launch ballistic missiles? It was never going to go down well. But that was no longer his problem. He headed off, towards the nearest missile shelter, waiting for the all clear to sound.

- - - - - -

The Diggledom forces on the island had no idea of the ballistic missile launches, so carefully continued with their mission, the mountain-top forces slowly bedding themselves in for the night, waiting so that in the morning they could check the beach before the Diggledom forces landed the next evening.

The four man team that were moving up to monitor the town of Malyshev, quietly heading through the forest to the tree line, which they intended to move down until they could see the village. They were stopped by their point man when he heard a slightly unnatural sound, muffled slightly by the trees. With a series of quick hand gestures the team lowered themselves to the floor and started to slowly continue to move towards the tree line. The first person to lay eyes on the mercenaries was the third man in the group, Sgt Pakhir Rivi, the sniper from the pair of specialist that had been attached to the unit for the duration of the mission. While his sniper rifle was over his shoulder, encased in a specially camouflaged gun bag, he had his P90 up and in the aim even as he held out his left hand to stop the rest of the team from moving forwards. So began a long night for the second recon team, one member of the team watching the mercenaries unloading what he assumed, correctly, to be mines from the back of a truck. Luckily they were unlikely to be spotted, with a natural arrangement of the trees and foliage allowing a relatively long 23m sightline through the woods, allowing Pakhir to watch the back of the truck and the occasional mercenary as they moved into sight to remove boxes from the rear of the truck.

HMS Majestic

Hamilton grimaced as the live satellite feed showed what he had long feared–an attempt by the Me'i to throttle if not close the Zuiderzee Strait. Fleets were sortieing and the United Kingdom had not yet identified all the Me'i naval installations leaving Hamilton with vague guess and suppositions about the size of the Me'i force that was making its way into the Strait.

"Damn Delesians," he muttered to himself catching a silent, agreeing nod from Huntington. "What do we have to contain any Me'i threat from the south, James?" Hamilton asked, now turning to face Huntington.

"Not much, sir. Effectively, the Me'i control the seas from just south of east to our south. ORNI has been tasked with identifying potential sites for Fleet Air Arm strikes should the threat materialise. At best, we could shift the fleet carriers further out towards the east for more manoeuvrability–"

"At the expense of being closer to Me'i land-based aircraft and anti-ship missiles." Hamilton interrupted, finishing Huntington's thought. "I daresay, James, that I do not relish that thought. What do we have on the Russkyans?"

"Airborne and surface assets seem to be converging upon the Zuiderzee, sir, while some aerial assets are keeping in close contact with Delesian surface units to our south. But, should it get rough, the Delesians are simply outmatched, sir."

The admiral nodded at the implicit message. He stood up straight, cracks sounding from a back that had accustomed to being stooped over maps and charts. Delesa and the UK were allies, and any attack upon Delesian assets would be regarded as an attack against the United Kingdom–a further complication that provoked a quiet sigh from the admiral.

"I want to send the Delesian theatre commander a message on a secure channel, James. I need to know just what the hell she is doing."

Encrypted Communication
To Vice-Admiral Sarah Conrad

Admiral,

The decision by the Delesian Navy to loose off submarine launched ballistic missiles is deeply distressing. While I shall always agree with the need for operational security, to launch so close to the home waters of the SFR surely is a matter that ought to be entrusted to the Commonwealth's most stalwart ally.

However this situation resolves itself, Admiral, the Royal Navy will not abandon her brothers in the Delesian Navy. I assure you of that, Admiral. However, I am afraid that the launch of Delesian SLBMs may have brought us perilously close to just such an engagement.

I am sending this on the most heavily encrypted channel to avoid any sense of friction between our two forces–but make no mistake, I am less than pleased that I was not consulted and am quite certain that my civilian bosses in Georgetown are equally less-than-pleased.

Given the increasing tensions, I propose that you order your fleet northward and take my southern station, from which you can be better protected by my theatre and fleet air defence cruisers. I trust the Kilrany, and to a lesser degree the Russkyans to keep cooler heads. These Me'i, however, are a different story altogether. And quite simply, should they react with any aggression we shall both likely be targeted as foreigners and so stand a better chance when acting in close cooperation.

Sincerely,

Hamilton

Admiralty
Georgetown, United Kingdom

"They did what exactly?"

Radovan Noskovic was certainly in a less-than-pleased mood. Heretofore, Oceanian operations in the SFR region had been carefully tailored not to provoke rightfully nervous and neutral nations. Hamilton had been tasked with a smaller-than-usual task force and sailed under explicit directions to provoke the wrath neither of the Russkyans nor the Me'i. Hamilton's reports thus far indicated a positive response from the Russkyans at the field level, a partial success that had suddenly become endangered by the Delesian missile launch for ORNI now reported that the Me'i fleet was swarming into the Zuiderzee Strait.

The two nations had fought together. And while Noskovic was not party to that tradition being a former Novikovian submariner, he recognised the great esteem in which the two forces held each other. And that showed as the officers before him hesitated to call the Delesian action for what it was.

"A strategic missile launch, sir."

Noskovic glowered at the commander. "It's a mistake, Commander, plain and simple. None of your high-and-mighty Oceanian bullshit. It's a mistake and we're gonna pay for it. Plain and fucking simple."

"Perhaps, sir," a lieutenant-commander replied, his voice noticeably calmer than the red-faced First Sea Lord. "However, while we have indeed seen increased readiness on all parts of the southern states of the SFR, all parties seem content to protect their own borders. The only state explicitly threatened by the Delesian launch is Novajev. Novajev is also the only state without a means with which to seriously engage coalition naval assets."

"But we don't know what the hell the damned Me'i are thinking, do we, 'mate'?" Noskovic barked, emphasising the traditional Oceanian form of casual address. "Within the hour I want a detailed status report on just what exactly the Me'i are surging into the theatre and what sort of capabilities they are keeping in reserve. I also want a status report from Admiral Hamilton. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," the two naval officers answered in unison before quickly exiting the First Sea Lord's office.

Noskovic simply thrust his thumb down upon the button linking him with his secretary. "Get me Gavin over at the FO."

Secure Diplomatic Communication
To Chase Surreal, Minister of Foreign Affairs

Minister Surreal,

Our nations once again are standing together, this time in Novajev where our two great navies are supporting an operation to liberate the island nation. Time and again our two nations have stood together in an alliance forged in blood and steel during the wars for your independence.

Unfortunately, today, certain Delesian actions have greatly tested that bond. Earlier today, Oceanian intelligence assets identified a submarine launched ballistic missile volley originating from a Delesian submerged strategic asset. Categorically, the United Commonwealth retains the right to conduct military operations without oversight, scrutiny, and consultation by and with the United Kingdom. However, given our close cooperation in Novajev, His Majesty's Government is deeply concerned that the United Commonwealth would not voluntarily offer the United Kingdom even advance warning of a strategic missile launch.

Accordingly, His Majesty's Government must officially protest the reckless actions undertaken today. The launch of potentially nuclear-armed strategic assets has endangered not just Delesian assets in the theatre of operation, but through association those of the United Kingdom.

Of course, our alliance is strong and will survive whatever may result from today's events. The United Kingdom will come to the defence of the United Commonwealth without hesitation should the situation devolve so gravely.

Sincerely,

Gavin Astley
Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs

South of Travoro, Novajev

Lieutenant Pierre Henderson snapped his forearm down, his Royal Marines taking the cue and quickly dashing across the road linking Travoro to Klishev. The twelve men clambered up the steep elevation, taking care to avoid being seen from any mercenary positions in either Travoro or, slightly more importantly given the proximity, Khlishev.

Upon taking the hill, the Royal Marine team quickly took to carving a defensible position into the rocks. They physically moved the larger rocks and dug into the rocky soil with shovels where otherwise possible. Henderson attempted to conceal the position as best as possible in case the mercenaries were operating with small, short-ranged UAVs as he was–though he kept his safely secured away until night fall. Instead, he took great care to record the exact position of the roadway and then to begin scouring the two towns for any signs or indications of a mercenary presence.

Hill 69, Northwest of Bitarjev, Novajev

Like his colleage to his north, Lieutenant John Clare took to occupying his position in as unobtrusive a fashion at all possible. Unlike Henderson, however, Clare had a small forest and tree line to utilise. Similarly, once his marines were situated, he unpacked the small UAV and sent it aloft on an easterly track, using the forest and the down slope of the hill to obscure its origination from any prying eyes to the west.

The UAV, a small, propellor-driven affair, was equipped with only two wide-angle underbelly cameras. The first a high-resolution camera and the second a thermal imaging camera. Clare did not expect much from the second, any mercenaries along the flight path would likely be keeping their vehicles cold and bodies could be easily obscured in the late afternoon while the ground was still warmed by the falling sun. He was more interested in the high-resolution photographs.

Slowly, and at a medium altitude, the UAV, once over the coastline, began a sharp swing back towards the northwest. It would fly in a slow path towards Hill 192 just east of Khlishev along what maps indicated would be a softer, more gentle terrain than the sharper rises just west of Bitarjev.

Hill 744, Southeast of Bilikov

"Damn mates, a tad cooler up here," an Oceanian private quipped in the wind rushing up and over one of the highest points in Novajev. He looked down the mountainside towards the sea to the north. He knew that Royal Marines were fulfilling similar positions to the southeast; unlike the Royal Marines, however, the Chestershire Regiment recce team would not just be keeping close tabs on the only road left to link the two halves of the island. They had a secondary task of identifying potential sites where the Oceanian Army could place its field artillery to give it coverage over the whole island. Nominally, the eastern half, but Anjukov would also be in range of the larger pieces.

Through his mask and goggles, worn to protect from brief and blinding snowstorms in the upper elevations, Lieutenant Andrew Dickinson watched his men work quickly and quietly–save for his one smart-mouthed private. Given the more extreme conditions, his unit would take a bit longer than the marines in setting up an observation post. But it too would be operational before the Oceanians arrived in force.

(ooc: there is a lot there and i did a bunch of jumping around and it's quite possible in the rush to write it i missed something, if i did just tell me. it wouldn't be the first time :D)


Murphy watched as the man went down, Dillon watched in the binoculars confirming it.

“Meh, little to the left.”

“Fuck you Dillon, I see one dead officer and a bunch of soldiers now hiding.” Murphy said as he packed his rifle. No one was shooting, a clean get away. Dillon swung his M468 around to his front, snapping in a cartridge, he patted Murphy on the back.

“Let’s go.” The two of them crawled away back into the blackness. When that got far enough away they began to walk, Murphy was playing with the single empty casing, finally he put it in a pocket.

---

HMDS. Refuge

Admiral Sarah Conrad sat in her high leather chair in her rather luxurious stateroom. She was reading over telegrams from Fleet Com when Captain Bradley Wallis knocked on the door.

“Enter.” Bradley stepped through the door, a sheet of paper in his hand, a smile on his face.

“Message from the Juno ma’am. The SSBN HMDS. Vigilante has fired 12 BMG-228 Firecracker missiles from her Trident missile tubes.” He handed the slip of paper to her awaiting open hand.

“Very good. Inform the kind General that the attacks have begun and it would be best to call in the boys from Delesa.”

“Aye ma’am.” He saluted then turned and walked out closing the door softly behind him. He then proceeded further down the hallway until he reached his stateroom, where the General was staying for the time being on the ship. He grumbled but soon enough he would be gone and he would have his bed back, instead of sleeping in his XO’s bed. He knocked and without waiting for a response he entered. General Wolfe was lying in the bed reading the Commonwealth Times newspaper. He looked up, an eyebrow raised in suspicion of the sudden intrusion.

“Yes Captain?”

“The initial missile attacks have begun. One of our subs has fired the first shots. Time to call in for the main assault sir.”

“Oh is that so?”

“According to the plans set down by the Defence Board, yes.”

“I think you ought to keep your tongue in check around me. We may serve different branches, but I still out rank you.”

“Of course you do sir. But I’m speaking on behalf of the Admiral. And she is the CO of this operation.” The Captain said cheekily. Wolfe mumbled under breath and tossed the newspaper to the side and swung his feet off the bed. Putting his shoes on, he stood up and walked out of the room. The Captain followed, closing the door to his room.

They arrived at the bridge and the Admiral was already there, standing outside watching the next patrol of F/A-18 Super Hornets take off. She turned her head and saw the two men and came inside. “It’s time General.”

“I know, I know.” He said as he continued to walk over to the communications station. “I need to get a message to Delesa, the Royal Air Force Base Edmonton.”

The operator worked for a few seconds then nodded. “Ready sir.”

“Send ‘Operation Saving Grace is a go. I repeat a green light.’ Break.” Another few seconds and the operator nodded again.

“Sent sir.”

The General turned to the Admiral. “Where is the rest of my force, and what’s the navy’s plan?”

“Just over the horizon. Should be here soon. When they arrive the fleet will break up into separate groups and head off to the various landing targets. At which point the Juno will begin the naval barrage with the first shots of her big guns. That will be the signal for the entire fleet to open fire. We will barrage the shore then when the troops begin to land we will adjust fire further inland. The fighters from this aircraft carrier will be at your boys’ disposal. We also have helicopter gun ships ready for close support. Based on the landings, Refuge will take up position behind the 1st and 2nd battalions of Marines. The main tank assault will have the Juno behind them. And for the troops of 2nd Battalion, Dog Company up by themselves on that bridge, I have asked the HMDS. Reprisal a Duke class frigate to be close enough for support and possible evac.”

“Well it seems you got it all planned out.”

“Not me, the Defence Board.” She corrected him.

HMDS. Juno

Commodore Jason Frank stood in horror watching the radar screen in front of him. His small fleet masked on both sides, large fleets mobilizing, too many air contacts to make out. He watched as his promotion slowly slipped away.

“What the fuck just happened?” He almost yelled, all eyes turned on him. The XO shrugged.

“Guess we scared a few buggers.”

The Captain shot him a glace, “That will be enough of that.” Frank’s temper was growing larger by the minute. He really wanted the promotion; he would be placed in a desk most likely, away from the front lines. Not that he didn’t want to fight, but his sea legs were old, it seemed he was always on patrol, the Navy Board always sending the Juno out for just all the reasons in the book; patrols, diplomatic, muscle flexing, war games, and much more. “Are these bastards reacting to the missiles?”

“It would appear so. Most of the contacts are mostly inbound on our location. Or rather the Vigilante’s firing position.”

“Where is she now?”

“Long gone from the firing position sir. They won’t find anything but rocks and seaweed there, and well us sir.”

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath. “Alright people, let’s shake this off. I’m sure the Government has done what is needed to help us. All right, let’s keep a close eye on the pricks in the east. The west has to be the Kilrany and well hell we are fighting with them. Bring all crews on stand-by. Warm up the guns. Tell the Vigilante to surface and run up her colours. Tell her to also come back and join the formation, that way if any bastards fire at her, they gotta get through us lads who can fight back.” He thought for a moment, hell I was following orders from Fleet Com, no way I can lose my promotion over this, I was following orders. “Also, increase the force’s speed to flank, or best we can get without splitting up. Keep us in international waters, inform all crews to run up their colours, national or navy I don’t care just as long as I see some black and red.”

“Aye aye sir.” There was a furry of activity in the CIC as sailors rushed around to fulfill the orders. The sailors also dawned their white fire-protective masks and gloves. Alarms buzzed all over the vessel, and there was a slight jolt as the large steel mass surged forward in the water. The rest of the fleet followed suit, throwing their engines on the red line, pushing them to the limits. More sailors were posted on deck watch, using binoculars scanning the horizon. Soon they would join their comrades and fight the real enemy.

St. Myhre
Just after ICBM firing

Procedure in the United Commonwealth was currently written that nuclear-armed weapons needed to be written off by the Prime Minister for approval for firing. But because the ICBMs that were fired were not nuclear-armed, the Prime Minister was not informed or aware of the situation. The Naval Board sent the orders to the Defence Board to confirm them. After confirming them, the Defence Board sent a copy to the Prime Minister’s office as a report not requiring his approval. Prime Minister Lester Geddie was unaware of the events unfolding at the moment as it was his daughter’s birthday and he was out at a football match between the St. Myhre Saints and the Russograd FC, one of the tensest games in the season. He dawned the scarf of the Saints while his daughter, Leah, had a Russograd scarf.

Several MSS agents surrounded them in their black suits, earpieces, and glasses. They watched everyone. They were armed with SIG Sauer P228 in shoulder holsters. On the roof sat several sniper squads.

And agent walked up the Prime Minister was whispered in his ear. “Sir, we have an issue.”

Lester cheered as Michael McShane shot the ball towards the keeper. Then looked at the agent. “Can it not wait till I’m back in the office? I mean it’s my girl’s special day.”

‘No sir, this could become very nasty very soon. We got word of possible nuclear repercussions.”

Lester’s face remained the same, although inside his heart was pounding a hundred times an hour, his brain ticking. “Curses,” he whispered so his daughter couldn’t hear, “What’s this all about?”

“Novajev sir. Seems we pissed a few people off.”

“Sweet Jesus, it’s not like we have nuclear weapons there… do we?”

“No sir.”

“That’s what I thought, so what’s this all about.”

“I can’t brief you on that. You’ll have to come with me back to the Defense HQ.” Lester nodded and turned to his daughter. He patted her head and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

‘I have to go do some work. But you are going to stay with mom and watch the end. When I get home I want to hear all about it? Kay?” With that he stood up and followed the agent out to his Land Rover.
He arrived at the HQ quite ticked off. He ripped off his coat and scarf and tossed it on the chair at the head of the table. “Why the hell am I here and not with my daughter?”

Admiral Alexi Dmitriev stood up. Although with his very Russian name he was as much English as anything. His family roots could be drawn back to the establishment of the Kingdom. His family had always served Delesa and the navy. “Sir, unforeseeable issues.”

“Bullshit.” General Ludo Orville, head of the Royal Air Force spoke up. “God we should have scene this from miles away.”

“What? What the hell is going on?”

“Sir, we fired those new fangled Firecracker missiles today in the Novajev theatre in the SFR region. We are getting some serious unfriendly comments and threats.”

The Prime Minster rubbed his temples. He recalled something about the Firecrackers. They were a project from D4 Industries from some time back. He had signed off on the testing permits then after some time the purchase of several hundred of these weapons. He thought even harder to remember what they were. Something to do with ballistic missiles, then lightning struck. “Son of a gun, those Tridents look-a-likes! Damn it, why didn’t I sign off on the firing of those things?”

“They are not nuclear armed sir. They are like cruise missiles. We don’t have you signing off on those.” Spoke Alexi.

“Hmm yes I guess your right. But I bet they look like them from a radar perspective.”

“Yes sir.”

Lester ran his hands through his hair, taking a seat and slamming his head on the table. It was eerie quiet for a minute as he thought. “What’s happened?” he said not moving his head.

“Well several fleets from various local nations have mobilized, one in particular that is a major threat, they are moving to cut off the channel. Our fleets are on high alert, but have orders not to fire on anything but Novajev and those who fire on us first. So far no one has shot at us. But what is disturbing is the fleet is currently split in two. One part that is sitting off Novajev, the other with the submarine that did the firing are making their way through the channel. And that force isn’t really a fighting force, it’s mostly made up of transports and amphibious assault craft. They would be in some god-awful crap if someone started shooting. They are a couple hours from the other task force.”

“Sweet Jesus. Alright have we informed everyone that they are not nukes?”

“Yes, I believe we have for the most part.”

“Well if any of these people are sensible they won’t pick a fight if we don’t shoot at them.” Lester looked at his watch. “Missiles should come down soon, and hopefully on Novajev targets and these… irrational people you just bloody jump to conclusions can go home and leave us be.” He shook his head with his arms now crossed. “Well in any case, we are going to have to apologize. More important how is Oceania viewing this?”

“We have a message from them. They ain’t happy one bit, but they will stick by us.”

“Are you kidding me? Who the hell would be happy with us?”

“The troops that are going ashore?”

“Hmm good call. Well all right, let’s get this solved and I can go home.”

---

Encrypted Communication
To Vice-Admiral Colin Hamilton

It is good to hear we still have your support after such an action.

Although in saying so, I was simply following orders as well as the Captains and crews under me. Any failure to notify foreign governments is or should have been done by the United Commonwealth Government. I fully understand the lengths that I personally could have gone to ensure the least… tense way to fire these weapons.

We do extend our apologies for such a rash action and for possibly endangering your service men, as that was not our intention. I can assure you that any further launching of these types of weapons will be previously notified to you.

As for the time being, my fleet will continue operations up to the landing as ordered to maintain the most safe landing for the ground forces. As for after the engagement I shall consider sending what small portion of my fleet north to join with yours. As for the rest I will send south and back out the channel through Kilrany territorial waters. But all this I am still contemplating, and as of this moment have no solid plan.

Again very sorry and best regards to your landing,

Adm. Conrad

---

To Gavin Astley, The United Kingdom of Oceania
From Chase Surreal, The United Commonwealth of Delesa

Mr. Astley,

Please allow me to extend a sign of extreme remorse on our side for the trouble caused in the SFR region. We as a government have failed to uphold our side of a long-standing alliance between our two nations, and I shall not begin to tell you the issues we have created for ourselves in the aftermath of this launch. Let it be known here and now, that in future events that involve both our nations, we shall inform you of an threatening or forceful actions the Commonwealth plans to conduct, although never against or meant to deliver harm to your people.

We here are truly and deeply sorry for the trouble caused on the Oceanian side of this event. Perhaps a friendly get together or cocktail party to show our appreciation of your commitment and loyalty would in order? I am certain it has been some time since our two leaders, both Royal and political, have met.

Best wishes and very apologetic,

Chase Surreal

---

HMDS. Refuge
Few hours later

The two fleets had combined for a moment, and then broke up again into two forces. One force for the east attack and the other force for the west. The ships were now moving into final positions, preparing their weapons and the soldiers were saying their prayers and making peace with their gods.

C-130 Transport Plane - Oscar 310

Private Jeffrey Swanson held a picture of his wife and newborn in his hand, it was visible only by the red tint of the lights in the cargo bay of the plane. He softly touched the photo with the other hand, then placed it in one of his top pockets of his uniform, and took a deep breath. Private Hank Williams slapped him on the shoulder.

“Wake up man. You’ll be fine. I hear these merc bastards are already surrendering before any of the coalition troops have touched the soil. Hell it’ll be a walk in the park, jump, take a few prisoners, eat and get on a boat back home. And all this time we are getting paid war time pay.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah! Intel has these pricks throwing down weapons all over the place. Not to mention we have tanks! And the bloody marines! And scariest of all,” he picked up his voice, “Is the 5th Airborne is coming!” The troopers in the plane let out a huge “HU-ZAH!” Even Swanson grunted the phrase.

“Maybe your right.”

“Damn straight I’m right! Just stick with the Sarge and boom, before you know it you’ll be on a ship home, all limbs intact.” Hank laughed slapping Jeffrey in the shoulder again. Hank and Jeffrey were airborne soldiers of the Dog Company, 2nd Battalion, tasked with defense of the bridge leading to the west across the channel that separated the peninsula. And they knew they were all by themselves, but Dog Company was thought to be the toughest and best company in the 5th Airborne. They hadn’t volunteered for the assignment it was given to them by the high brass. The threat was possible reinforcements from Noginska would surprise the flank of the 1st and 2nd Battalion of the Royal Marines. Any threat larger then what could be handled, they would blow the bridge and hold position until either the Marines or a company from the 1st Battalion Airborne could reach them. “And didn’t you hear? A navy frigate will be there to support us! News came in when we left. We are going to be fine. You’ll be able to tell your boy about this after. Mind you, there won’t be much to say. We did policing for a tour.” He laughed again.

Their Lieutenant came into the back from the cockpit. He shushed the men. “We have the Novajev coast in sight. We are preparing to jump now, so finish up what your doing and stand boys.” The next several minutes were tense, no one really said anything, they just all kept to themselves. Finally the Lt was back this time his helmet on and rifle in hand. “Alright. Stand by. Open the doors and prepare to jump.”

HMDS. Juno

Commodore Jason Frank looked as his wristwatch. He looked up at his XO, who nodded that everything was ready. The massive steel structure sat parallel to the shoreline; so all nine of her big guns could bear down. On the east side of the peninsula a light rain had begun, and water ran off the turrets’ muzzles. The deck crew sat still in the rain, staring out to shore, and the massive transport vessels bound to drive to the shore in a short while laden with heavy armour.

Frank raised his hand, as if to signal the start of a race. They brought it down in a swift motion, ending with his finger pointing at the officer in charge of the big nine. “Fire!”

“Fire.” The officer repeated into a microphone. “I repeat fire.” Suddenly the ship shuttered violently as the guns fired simultaneously. Missiles from the VLS fired up and shot towards the shoreline. The beach erupted in fire and black smoke. Slowly aim was adjusted and the carnage slowly moved up the beach like a rolling barrage. By now the other ships in the force had opened up sending deadly packages towards the shore. After half an hour of constant firing the large transport and amphibious vessels set sail towards the beach. The invasion had begun.

HMDS. Refuge

Above the force on the sea, every plane that could be thrown in the air was up circling above the fleet. Admiral was in her whites as she watched the air show. Finally a sailor posted outside poked his head in.

“Juno has started firing. The invasion is on.”

Admiral Conrad smiled. “All vessels open fire. Send in the fly boys.” After twenty-six minutes the western forces begun their invasion hitting the beach, the marines rushed forward to any cover they could find. Above them F/A-18 Super Hornets zipped past dropping all sorts if bombs in land. Super Cobras flew in close support low over the heads of the marines. By this time the Trident style missiles, called ‘Firecrackers’ flew high above the fleet towards their targets.

OOC: I rather despise this post and I wanted to add more, but it will have to do as is, if I missed something you needed to know please say so and I will correct it as soon as I get the chance, otherwise I feel its best to let others have a chance to respond before I do anything else.

Across Novajev the remaining mercenary forces still loyal to Ekster’s new regime had established their defensive positions as best they could. Inland around the strongholds they had chosen as their last stand, minefields and pre-set kill zones sat ready and over watched by dug in and camouflaged infantry and light armour positions, along with emplaced heavy machine guns and anti tank missiles launchers with overlapping fields of fire.

All these defenses used whatever terrain cover they could make use of to mask their presence on lower ground, forcing an attacker to get within their weapons range before they could be fired upon directly. They forsook the high ground for anything but concealed observation points; and even then kept those to a minimum for their obvious locations, as they knew full well the ease in which modern tank guns could engage an emplaced weapons position at range. While these defenses were only half what they could have brought to bear otherwise with so much of their total force offering surrender, what was there was intended to be rather lethal.

On the Northwest these positions were set up in and around Volkova, Korovask and Zhideijev, while on the Northeast Khlishev was the sole heavily defended position, though the mountain saw numerous pockets of small mercenary units spread throughout in groves and forests. On the Southeast, Khabarovsk remained the center of the mercenary fortifications on that portion of the island, with the exception of Anjukov, it was the sole area the mercenaries still had solid lines of communications; no longer due to civil phone lines, but instead military communications equipment with hard lines running back to their command post in the town.

-----

Much as it was for the Oceania in their passage near Travoro, the passage of the Diggledom Special Forces team near Tjukovsk did not go unnoticed by the weary eyes of the mercenary forces in those darkened towns. The Diggledom’s fortunes held much like that of the Oceania in turn though as only those weary eyes tracked their movement, rather then the sights of the weapons they still carried.

There were two full companies worth of mercenary combat infantry in Tjukovsk with numerous armoured vehicles, not counting the men that had joined them from the SAM site that had once stood on a hill to their East; minus one unfortunate soul who had gone back to retrieve a forgotten letter only to arrive there in time for the Kilrany barrage. As it was, the former Kilrany soldier turned Republic volunteer turned mercenary officer, had more then enough manpower to keep watch on their surroundings, and being a Kilrany, he was still cynical enough to worry of attack from the coalition of forces despite their offer to surrender.

They maintained a perimeter around the small city along with numerous observation points focused on critical avenues of approach, one in particular and of most importance just now was set up on the Northwest side of the community. Much like those mercenaries still loyal to the Novajev government, they forsook the high ground available to them in the form of several ten-story buildings for lower and less obvious positions.

Through their high-powered, night vision optics they saw the silhouettes of some as of yet unknown forces establishing their own observation point on that high hill, and as they worked it became less and less visible until, if it hadn’t been for them watching them in the first place, they could no longer have told were they were. No patrol was sent up on the chance it belonged to one of the coalition forces, nor were any shots fired, whether from the autocannon equipped BMP-2s, heavy machine guns; emplaced or from BTR, or the lone sniper-spotter pair that had joined them. Instead they clung to the hope; much as the mercenaries in Travoro did, that the white bed sheets they hung out the windows and draped across some of their vehicles would ensure their intent was known and that they could get out of this unharmed.

-----

There was little the Kilrany Imperial Navy could do to force the Me’ei to withdraw their surface fleet from the Zuiderzee Strait beyond ensuring they remained a healthy distance from their own national waters. Kilrany military doctrine had never emphasized a large navy, and while it was well funded, it was no where near as large as that of the Me’ei navy, and the number of ships that the Kilrany admiralty could immediately bring to bear into the Strait was limited after the damage sustained to the original fleet stationed off Novajev and the large number of vessels running interdiction missions off the long Khurzav coastline.

Despite this disadvantage in naval strength, the Kilrany mostly made up for it in their air force, the large strategic bombers orbiting just inland providing plenty of warning to the Me’ei to stay clear of Kilrany national waters as the Delesian task force made its way through towards Novajev. Adding to this was another pair of fighter squadrons scrambled to provide security directly over the Delesian warships, armed with both air-to-air and anti-ship missiles. All in all it was turning out that the expenditures for the Kilrany military this week were about to get somewhat higher then usual.

-----

After the scare caused by the perceived launch of nuclear armed ballistic missiles, the Kilrany amphibious warfare group on the West coast of the island was only just recovering from the initiation of MAD protocols as the Delesian warships opened fire on the East coast. Having feared large amounts of radiation, let alone the blast waves of multiple nuclear warheads, the first wave of the landing force had been delayed and disorganized significantly as men and women raced to don their protective gear.

Now recovered and reorganized from the misunderstanding, the planned landing was going ahead once more with forces being sent by landing craft to the beaches West of Zhideijev and South of Kislovodsk. Unlike the Delesian landing zones however, these beaches were not being shelled by the big guns on the Kilrany Imperial Navy, nor did they see any helicopters in the immediate vicinity.

-----

On the East coast, Andrey Danilovich Volynsky recoiled back in surprise within his dugout at the sudden and furious onslaught as the Delesian naval shells began to rip into the beach to his South, through his optics the explosions were seemed dangerously close. A Russian by birth, he now served in the Novajev National Army; more commonly referred to as the mercenaries, as a forward observation officer.

A good kilometer and a half from either beach the Delesians planned to land on; near but not on hill 91, he waited patiently as he watched the shells chew up a lifeless beach. The large sixteen inch guns doing the most damage, their heavy shells smashing into the soft shoreline and erupting in great geysers of sand and shrapnel, leaving great pits around six meters deep and fifteen meters wide until the sand slowly filled them partially in again. The thunderous roar of the artillery barrage seemed to go on forever for Andrey as he kept watch, his hard line communication set at the ready.

Through his optics he could see shapes of men coming ashore, and while they had no intention of actually contesting any landing at the beaches with direct force, they were going to do their best to hinder any landing forces, just as they would to the West. Speaking quickly but clearly into his comm. set, he adjusted the initial target coordinates to where the Delesian marines were now.

As he did this, orders were also being sent through several slit trenches just inside some large forests to the Southeast and Southwest of Khabarovsk where at each, two men came scrambling up out of the ground carrying an Sa-18 Grouse. From their positions, the four men could clearly see the Delesian attack helicopters a mere two kilometers away, well within the five kilometer range of their MANPAD missiles.

Each man activated their launcher and took aim at one of the twin bladed helicopters in the distance, giving their all-aspect missiles a good look at their individual targets before pulling on the trigger a second later. All four anti-air missiles lashed out towards a target, quickly accelerating to their top speed around mach two, unlike earlier Russian MANPADs, the Grouse was difficult to fool with counter-measures.

With no visible targets inland from the air beyond the structures of the towns and some exposed homes in the open, there was little for the Delesian aircraft to directly target, unless they chose to bomb the Novajev communities. A similar lack of targets would be found for the Firecrackers, as only a handful of power relay stations; though most towns were now under a blackout order anyway, and the remnants of the two bridges were obvious targets from the air, for there were no rail lines on this small island. Through it all, as the explosions rocked the island, the remaining air defenses on Novajev continued to be silent.

As the first Grouse approached its target, in Nogorsk, the darkened town was blanketed in brief flashes of light as the one hundred and twenty millimeter bores of the 2S23s aimed skyward and unleashed their mortar rounds upon the beaches where the Delesian marines were landing. Four of these vehicles sheltered around the densely packed buildings, firing at high angle over them with their high explosive fragmentation rounds; variable timed fuses would see half the shells airburst over the heads of the marines, raining high velocity shrapnel down upon them while other rounds burst upon or just prior to striking the ground.

Each gun fired off their rounds for a good thirty seconds, unleashing six rounds per minute and sending twenty of the one hundred and twenty millimeter shells towards the beachhead. As the last rough fired and the first round exploded, the four vehicles rumbled to life as they shifted position within the town to another location therein.

-----

The KIN Ragnarok was the first of the Poseidens on the Southwest to have a clear LOS on the high angled mortar shells, its powerful radar tracing their path through the sky as a ballistic tracking computer estimated the initial point of fire. They did not however open fire on the position, instead a message was sent through to Admiral Roerich and read to her by the on duty communications officer in the CIC of the Relentless.

“The Ragnorok wishes to know if they are to engage Nogorsk and counter-battery the artillery fire coming from it.”

As part of the encrypted data link, the primary display already showed her and General Mulyavin the shells inbound from the small town, so she was fully aware of the situation already. She only had to give it a few moments of thought however before she responded, “Inform them they are to hold fire unless the Delesian request fire support. They have enough warships and aircraft in the area as it is; I doubt they will need our help in their OA, so tell them to save their rounds for the time being, our landing will be needing them soon enough I’m sure.”

“Aye ma’am.”

OOC:
I am not amazingly happy with this post. But hey, I am leaving it open in case the mercenaries try anything. Assume that there is atleast one stick in the air near Novajev at the moment, ready to provide air support if needed. And the U-2's will be back on station by now too.


IC:
Through the night the Diggledom Special Forces began to prepare for the landings, each team carefully bedding themselves in for the night, the team on top of the hill carefully installing a series of high magnification cameras on several specially designed tripods, running the wires back to their LUP, at any one point two people being awake, one scanning the area around them for incoming threats and one of the beach masters using the high power cameras to carefully scan the beach, taking high definition pictures of any of the beach that he viewed as needing more attention.

The spetznaz team in the forest had a much worse night, first having to wait for the mercenary engineers to leave, before sending one of their number forwards, slowly moving through the forest until he was less than ten metres from the road, before setting up two of their own cameras, providing them with a view both up and down the, now deserted, road.

While the actions on the island itself were relatively peaceful, with the Diggledom units avoiding any contact with the remaining mercenary forces, the actions off the island were much more active.

------------------------------------

Imperial Palace
Susdal
Diggledom
2225

The emperor slowly closed his eyes, before sighing deeply and opening his eyes again, still presented with the information on the computer screen in front of him. While the missile launch had been explained by the Delsean high command, the political fallout from the actions was still being felt. Reinforcement of the Diggledom forces present was now going to be much harder, the actions of the MPNOL meaning that any naval resupply would be problematic to say the least, especially with the practically non-existent diplomatic relationship between Me’i and Diggledom, which was limited to a small embassy exchange program with a small group of diplomats present at any one time.

The Me’i ambassador had left nearly forty five minutes ago, the meeting between the foreign diplomat and the emperor having been a waste of time for all concerned. While the Me’i acknowledged that Diggledom appeared to have no direct link to the actions of the “dishonourable” foreigners the diplomat did warn the emperor that the blockade would prevent any naval forces entering the strait through either the international waters, or the Me’i territorial waters, including Diggledom navy assets. After nearly fifteen minutes of trying vainly to convince the ambassador to allow resupply vessels through the blockade, even if they were to be searched by the Me’i navy he had given up when Wu Yeung had refused to even consider terms, instead repeating time and time again that all naval forces that were attempting to enter the strait would be stopped, using force if necessary.

When the ambassador had left, the Germanian ambassador was next on the list of foreign diplomats that had requested a meeting with the emperor. That meeting had gone much better, the Germanian ambassador pledging, once again, his countries support for the Diggledom forces in-theatre and offering a permanent treaty between the two countries, while the details were still to be entirely finalised it allowed the Diggledom forces to continue operating from a pair of airbases inside Germania for the immediate future. The rest of the treaty was for the formation of permanent military bases within each country, allowing extended range capabilities and extra training opportunities for each countries military forces.

While the rest of the treaty would allow long term benefits for both nations, the immediate benefits were of the most meaningful, the full an unrestricted access to two airbases in Germania for the immediate future, in exchange for a similar pair of airbases in Diggledom. As soon as the Germanian ambassador had left, after accepting the Diggledom Emperor’s thanks, the Diggledom army air corps began preparations to move several units to the Germanian bases.

To that end, in the final stages of take off procedures, the speed entirely down to the NBC alert that had just occurred, were two heavy bomber squadrons. Each of the squadrons was transporting all of their five hundred and thirty six men and women, first south east across Diggledom, then south through Germania where they would occupy the two bases that the Germanian forces were presently evacuating. The upgraded B-52H’s making good time across the sky, travelling close to their top speed of 1000km/h, while the support sections made a slightly slower 830km/h trip in their C-17’s. The bases themselves were only 800 and 700 kilometres from Novajev, meaning that the island would be well within range, allowing a long loiter time for the Diggledom planes over the combat zone.

The emperor smiled, even though the situation on the island was less than perfect there were more than enough troops there to hold up the Diggledom side of the operation, allowing them to maintain face, even when presented with the Me’i aggression. Though, since he would be sending heavy bombers, capable of nuclear strikes, into an area that was under such public scrutiny, he thought it wise to inform everyone of the latest Diggledom move. To that end he had summoned Amanda Ethridge, to first write then send a diplomatic message to all forces in the strait and all the countries in the SFR.

He shut his eyes again, scowling as a wave of pain hit him. He had been up for a long time now, having been woken nearly twenty four hours ago when a small border incident erupted, nearly necessitating the deployment of more troops, but after several tense hours that crisis had been averted, but it was suddenly replaced with the launch of possible nuclear weapons in the strait. All in all it had been a long day and all he wished for at the moment was his bed. He looked up as a knock sounded at the door, heralding the arrival of his foreign affairs minister.

Well, he would brief her on what he wanted to appear in the message before he could retire to his bed, allowing his military commanders to deal with the situation in Novajev.

------------------------------------

Diplomatic Communiqué

To: All forces present in the Strait and all countries in the SFR
From: Amanda Ethridge

Message:

As you will all no doubt be aware, Diggledom forces have become involved in the Novajev ‘situation’ and have deployed a naval force. Due to the changing situation in the strait the Diggledom government has decided to deploy heavy bombers to the area. While it is possible for the bombers to carry nuclear weapons, these bombers will not be equipped with such weapons, they will be using conventional weapons only, seeing as we have no need for the extra destructive capabilities of either NBC or air-fuel explosives.

This is a message merely to alert anyone who would normally be worried by such activities.


------------------------------------

Airbase 34
Germania
0554

The tarmac of the taxi way had been meticulously checked for any loose objects, anything that could cause any FOD, but even so, as Sergeant Grady walked down the walkway his eyes scanned the ground continuously, prompting a smile for the Germanian walking next to him.

“I see our flying units aren’t so different, between our two countries,” his Germanian equivalent, a Sergeant Hans Berndson, gesturing to his own eyes, also following the contours of the ground. “We are always worried about breaking the big beasts.”

Grady smiled, while the deployment was stressful, the easy competence of the Germanian forces present had certainly been a boon, allowing the crews to catch up on their sleep, before being woken once again, to begin their latest combat mission. Since none of the equipment they were using was classified, they had accepted the Germanian offer of assistance, at least until the entire support structure arrived, so he was escorting the Germanian engineer to see to one of the B-52’s that had developed an engine problem, something to do with the fuel feed system or some such, he wasn’t an engineer and so didn’t pretend to understand.

Even though he wasn’t an engineer he could still appreciate the scene before him as he walked around the corner, into a hangar. Sitting in the centre of the hangar, lit by a series of angled high power lamps as well as the overhead lights, was one of the largest planes operated by the Diggledom military, the B-52H. The wings were over fifty metres long, dwarfing the small huddle of people gathered around one of the engines, tech manuals and toolboxes lying discarded on the floor, next to parts of the engine that had already been removed. While the Diggledom technicians weren’t expecting any trouble they were all armed, mostly with P90’s slung across their chests, but a couple only had pistols in drop-leg holsters.

“Hey guys! I brought the Germanian support team for you lot.” Grady called, as he walked into the hangar.

“Oh good, another pair of eyes might help, we were wondering if it might have something to do with the compressor spin speeds during...” One of the technicians said, immediately launching into a detailed engineering problem.

Grady smiled as he turned away, seeing the Germanian sergeant move forwards, immediately beginning to question the technician who had moved forwards, hands moving furiously as he seemed to try to shape his ideas in the air. As he stepped into the fresh air outside the hangar he rolled his head, while he hadn’t been awake for as long as he might have been, he had been awake since 1630, having started his shift at 1800 he had been awake through the entire NBC crisis, then hadn’t been able to sleep on the plane over and all the physical work hadn’t helped his sleep deprived body. Though, as he watched a fully loaded B-52 taxi past him, the dull roar of the engines hitting him with a near physical force, it was a beautiful sight and his squadron would certainly go down in history as being part of the first Diggledom force that ever took part in a foreign conflict.

The B-52 reached the end of the runway, before turning to face down the runway, all 3900 metres of it. The dull roar from the engines began to grow in volume; quickly reaching a level that would have been physically painful if not for the hearing protection offered by the small foam buds that Grady had already placed in his ears. As the aircraft passed him he saluted, as was tradition, any aircraft that was taking off with war-load was saluted if the watcher had no excuse not to, as the aircraft roared into the air he finished the salute, muttering under his breath, “Come back safe.” It had begun to sink in, Diggledom was at war and he was at the forefront of the aviation units.

------------------------------------

Beach north of hill 337
Novajev
0700

The landing was relatively simple, amphibious landing ships dropping both tanks and squads of infantry off on the beach. Since there were no mines, enemy troop concentrations in view, or overflying enemy aircraft, the landing had begun relatively peacefully. The troops initially moving inland for a few hundred metres, before quickly beginning to build field defences, mainly shell scrapes or small trenches, with a more permanent base being set up just off the beach, a more heavily dug in series of tents being set up, where the commander would be positioned when he came ashore.

When the Delesian supporting flotilla skittered away to the north at best possible speed, Group Captain Taranichev received orders to detach the Tu-143M3 (R) surveillance aircraft from his command and sent them north to continue shadowing the Delesians. As his force orbited over the northern face of the Strait, one of his EW aircraft reported to him.

"Red One, Yellow One here. Relaying message: intercepted targeting radar signal. Origin: MPNOL Surface Group, coordinates as follows: 33-58-27. Acknowledge."
"Yellow One, Red One. Received. That group designated Ricebowl. Standby."

Turning to the burst transmitter sitting beside him, he plugged his headset into the console and raised the communications room of the RVMF-AV's Central Seas Operational Station Command Post (No. 3). He relayed the new data and received fresh orders. Signing off that net, his gloved right hand pulled the cord from the console and replaced it in its original housing.

"All aircraft, Red One. Confirm weapons safe. Red One to Green Flight, Orange Flight. Illuminate target Ricebowl. Over."

At 33-58-27, the MPNOL surface group designated "Ricebowl" on Taranichev's marker board was using a high power RADAR to illuminate the rear aspect of the fleeing Delesian flotilla. The system was only active for thirty seconds before intercept officers aboard the lead vessel screamed that air RADARs were illuminating them and that air-search sets were picking up numerous contacts forming a circular barrier around the combined force of sixteen destroyers and frigates. This force immediately shut down their high power set and turned south to join a larger blocking force complete with air cover at 33-45-55. Currently, that larger force faced Group Vienna, a hundred kilometers to their south and steaming north at twenty-five knots.

Taskforce Samoilev, under the command of Vice-Admiral (Of the Red) V.K. Samoilev, was not having a particularly good day. Circumstances had forced them to dodge south past the Oceanian fleet and head at best possible speed for a station that would allow them to blockade the northern face of the Strait and keep the MPNOL's assets from spilling out into the Central Sea itself.

Fortunately for Captain (First Rank) Shapov, KoA (Of the Green) Uzbenko had Taskforce Milan in position on the southern face of the Strait and had been informed of Oels-Grohe's Group Gothenburg passing north at flank speed to link up with Shapov's command. K1 H. I. Oels-Grohe commanded a force that included an aircraft carrier, and he sailed into the area knowing exactly where all of the participants were thanks to RVMF-AV's enduring reconnaissance efforts.

The small island at the outlet of the Strait into the Central Sea was identified as Novrezina. It currently hosted the command of Captain (Third Rank) Hans Filipovich Kuzmets, Support Flotilla Reims, numbering eighteen vessels. There by agreement with the Novrezinan government, a similar agreement allowed the Me'ei People's Navy of Liberation (MPNOL) to host a force of equal size and roughly equivalent composition. Unlike the RVMF, the MPNOL did not accompany its support groups with significant antisubmarine capability and thus found itself effectively locked in port thanks to the commander's suspicions of RVMF submarines waiting just outside the mouth of the harbour they occupied. He was entirely correct; two Haenulf-class boats were a mere twenty meters beneath the surface and ready to shadow the Me'ei group the moment it left harbour.

The Antey-class submarine Vlissingen was bottomed under the Delesian fleet as it steamed overhead and approximately eight kilometers to the east. As soon as the group had passed, she carefully lifted off the seafloor and headed south to support the efforts of Taskforce Milan. Running silent, she would be there in roughly six hours, being very close to where she needed to be in the first place.

this is not so great, but with time and resource constraints it shall have to suffice, perhaps i can get some more up later this week

HMS Adventure

Underneath the dull white lights of Operations, Captain Lionel Harris tapped a ball point pen upon the digital plot table–much to the obvious annoyance of a Royal Navy lieutenant. "That is what worries me, Colonel," Harris finally stated, looking up from the iconic depictions of surface-to-air missiles headed towards Delesian helicopters off the Novajev coast.

"Aerial reconnaissance has yet failed to find anything of significance in your objective area, Captain."

"And the hidden mercenary artillery contesting the Delesian landing, sir?"

"Again, drones have not identified any mercenary positions in Bitarjev."

Harris shook his head, regardless of the reassurances of his commanding officer. "Very well, however, I would still like to request that the Fleet Air Arm provide close air support in case my landing is opposed."

"On the behalf of the air group commander, Captain," a Royal Navy commander spoke, "you will have it. We have Kestrel fighters on the flight deck and will be taking to the air as soon as your landing craft are headed towards your objectives."

"Thank you, commander," Harris replied, nodding deferentially to the superior officer. "Major, Colonel," he continued, addressing his unit's CO and 2IC, "if you will, there remain a few items I need to address."

"Dismissed, Captain," the lieutenant-colonel replied. "And godspeed, Lionel," he added in a softer tone.

Off the Coast of Bitarjev

After the Delesians had begun to land, and as the first Oceanian teams began to dig in for observation of areas of interest, two landing craft quietly slipped away from the amphibious assault ship Adventure while the cruiser Iarapoco also began to head closer towards the Novajev coast, the crews for 152 millimetre guns ready for a possible fire support mission.

From the lead landing craft, Harris watched the small port loom larger in the night sky–occasionally distracted by what he perceived to be explosions from more southernly positions in the Delesian sector of operation. As the Iarapoco remained off the coast, her guns trained upon the town of Bitarjev, the landing craft motoring slowly towards the waterfront.

"Looks empty, sir," the company sergeant offered in a hoarse whisper.

"Indeed, but you know the plan, get the men ashore and secure the dock facilities."

"Yes, sir," the sergeant replied as the landing craft eased along the seawall, piloted skillfully by Royal Navy sailors.

HMS Majestic

"Sixteen surface ships?"

"Yes, sir. Satellite photographs indicate ships of frigate and corvette size, Admiral." Huntington brought up on the plot table the digital photograph files of the MPNOL force at the northern end of the Strait. "The Russkyans are bringing forces to the area in what appears an attempt to contain the Me'ei fleet."

"Are they succeeding?"

"It is still too early, Admiral."

"Detach the Chatham, the Enterprise, and the Exton and send them south."

"Sir?" Hutchinson inquired, his eyes finally raising up from the reports and to meet those of his superior. "Ought we not concentrate our forces here?"

Hamilton nodded slowly. "Indeed, however, the Russkyans offered to protect us from Me'ei interference when we entered the Strait and now that very force is attempting to do just that. We have the opportunity to assist a potential friend and I intend to do just that."

"But the Chatham, sir?"

Again Hamilton nodded. The Chatham was one of his anti-air cruisers, capable of engaging the sort of ballistic threats posed hours earlier by the Delesians as well as–and more importantly now–a saturation attack of anti-ship missiles. And with the numbers currently in favour of the Me'ei, that capability could well aid the Russkyans.

If only they could find a way to communicate. "And in the meantime," Hamilton added, "find a way to get in touch with the Russkyans aside from signal lamps. Otherwise a coordinated defence against a Me'ei threat will be a bit more difficult."

OOC: I think our collective timeframes are a little skewered just now, so I will state my understanding of what I see so far, if my conclusions are incorrect merely say so in the OOC thread. Kilrany, Delesian and Oceania forces are all landing during the night, no specific time was mentioned, but I’m assuming within a few hours of midnight either way, given that it will be plenty dark, where as Diggledom forces are landing in the morning, around sunrise given the stated 0700.

In the darkness surrounding Bitarjev, the Oceania landing craft went without the notice of the mercenary forces, in truth none were immediately nearby as followed with their decision not to directly contest any landings. The town was not entirely abandoned however, as those Novajev citizens currently caught in the middle of the hostilities remained in their homes, most unable to sleep with the near continuous shelling going on to the South.

While the docks of Bitarjev were well cared for by the inhabitants, they were not much to look upon in their simplistic wood and stone construction. Unlike the major harbour in the Southwest that stretched out between Barmakov and Kislovodsk, this small harbour was only useful for smaller pleasure craft and fishing boats; of which there were few moored up this night, though it would no doubt be of use to the Oceania none the less.

Like many of the citizens of Novajev this night, Robert Bongart found himself unable to sleep and thus paced about his room on the second story of his house near the shore. Had it not been for the fact that Bitarjev seemed so far away from where the current fighting was, he would have instead been down in his cellar to avoid any shells.

With his primary job being to care for and maintain the Bitarjev docks, he couldn’t help but look out upon them through his window when he thought he heard the sound of motorboats coming in. Initial he feared that mercenary forces were coming back, as such he only peered cautiously out his window, unable to see much due to the enforced blackout that had left the island blanketed in a darkness barely alleviated by the moon and stars that were in turn, partially hidden by high ranging clouds.

To the Northwest, the small mercenary force in Khlishev was just now beginning to miss the five men who deserted earlier in the evening, which led to many angry words being unleashed by their Lieutenant. Regardless of their loss in personnel, the defensive position was still a strong one; their BMPs were fully dug in with only their turrets showing above ground and foliage spread over their hulls to better conceal them. The heights to the North has always been of concern to them, but with their limited personnel there was little they could do but watch, a difficult task enough with their numbers but made all the more difficult by the prevalence of trees, as such they were as of yet unaware of the Oceania observation team.

He was also unaware of a single mercenary infantry section cautiously moving in a staggered column South towards them having started from a position just West of Travoro near hill 407, they also kept themselves low and stayed clear of any ridgelines so as not to silhouette themselves. Cut off from their command they were unaware of the true extent of what was transpiring and chose to move towards Khlishev as they were under the mistaken belief that since the airfield was shelled into oblivion, so to was Travoro. Currently the ten-man formation was using bounding overwatch to move from the edge of a large forest to a small grove of trees nearly a kilometer and a half due South of hill 407, with the sounds of shells farther South, they were taking no chances at this point.

-----

The first Kilrany vehicle; a BMP-3F specialized for Naval Infantry operations, hit the Novajev beach just West of Zhideijev near the end of a side road. Three more followed seconds later, however they did not head any further in, instead the unloaded their infantry where they were and provided overwatch for them as they began to check the beach for mines. An identical scene played out on the beach South of Kislovodsk less then a minute later with neither group finding any mines in their paths upon the sandy beaches, much as the Delesian forces had.

While their landing went unopposed it did not go unnoticed on the West, the South being outside the line of sight of the mercenaries observation points. From around hill 115 the mercenaries could clearly see the Kilrany forces coming ashore and patiently waited until more targets presented themselves, they wouldn’t have to wait long, though their plans were partially spoiled as shells began to burst half a kilometer in from the beach and over a wide front, multi-spectral chemical smoke quickly began to spread forth and impede their sight lines.

Two minutes after the first elements had landed, the heavy landing craft launched from the larger KIN amphibious warfare ships began to come in, on them were carried more BMP-3s laden with their soldiers and a full platoon of Zulu main battle tanks, a Russkyan design built by KIAM. At this point one of the mercenary observation officers chose to call in the artillery held in reserve for this section of the island; based out of Tyulska the four specialized BTRs aimed their barrels skyward and unleashed their 120mm rounds over the buildings they used for cover much as their counterparts had done against the Delesians.

Unable to clearly see the Kilrany Naval Infantrymen on the beaches, the observation officer could not direct the artillery as he would have, regardless, with little cover aside from their vehicles, casualties were taken by the men and women as shrapnel sliced through the air around them.

-----

Aboard the Relentless the artillery fire coming in on their forces was as quickly identified and tracked as had been the fire directed upon the Delesian landing, much to the chagrin of both Admiral Roerich and General Mulyavin, both of whom knew they would get no sleep this night as their forces went ashore and thus remained in the carrier’s CIC. By the time the fourth mortar shell was in the air, the Admiral was turning to her communications officer.

“Order the Poseidens to open fire on that position, secondary guns only, I won’t have those bastard shelling them any further.”

“Aye ma’am.”

Most of those around her remained silent and she even received an approving nod of the head from one of the 5th Division intelligence operatives nearby, but one of her staff officers felt the need to ask the question, though he himself saw it as a proper order.

“What of the orders to limit collateral damage ma’am?”

Her response was not hostile, but instead calm and even, “We are doing just that Lieutenant Commander. Novajev homes are built mostly out of heavy stone and typically feature cellars, if the locals are wise enough they’ll be in cover and the lighter, secondary guns of the Poseidens will be enough to suppress these mortars without obliterating the town around them … too much anyway. If the Emperor disagrees with my assessment, then I shall take responsibility for it, but as far as I can see, we are well within our rules of engagement, wouldn’t you agree?” she had turned to face the 5th Division operative as she posed her last question.

His response was a rather simple, “I would.”

She turned back then to the officer in question, “Any further concerns?”

The Lieutenant Commander merely shook his head slightly indicating he did not. Moments later the on duty communications officer addressed the Admiral and read her the message sent by the Diggledom, to which she simply ordered a simple acknowledgement of message received be sent back.

-----

Currently ten kilometers South of Barmakov the five, twin one hundred and fifty-two millimeter secondary gun mounts on the starboard side of each of the three Poseidens belched out fire and smoke as they sent their rounds inshore towards Tyulska. Not all the Novajev citizens in that town had taken cover however, some had gone to their windows to see what all the noise was about from the mortars firing in their town, only to be rather rudely surprised as Kilrany counter-battery fire came screaming in.

-----

While the mercenary artillery was now being suppressed, their initial barrage had already caused enough casualties in the first landing wave. With no direct opposition on the beaches and the shelling stopped for the moment, several sections along with their medics quickly took the time to load the wounded back aboard the landing craft that were to return to their ships, the dead were merely moved aside for the moment, creating a quiet rage within the Kilrany Naval Infantrymen.

Within ten minutes of the landing and the initial securing of the beachhead, the larger Ivan Rogov class landing ships began to come in closer to the shore, one towards each. Doing what they were designed to do they rode right up to the beach and opened their forward doors to unleash their cargo of men and armour. Before the first BMP-3 could leave the Rogov on the West however a piercing warning tone screamed out to the tank crew of one of the Zulus.

Farther to their East an anti-tank team had slipped out of their trench near Zhideijev along with their Javelin ATGM, from the cover of small copse of trees they took aim at the nearest piece of heavy armour and let loose their missile. As it roared in towards its target the passive defense system on the Zulu in question automatically activated, thumping out a half dozen smoke grenades that surrounded the tank in the same multi-spectral chemical smoke as the artillery shells, though these also contained bits of chaff.

Despite this and a hard turn to the right by the driver, the mercenary guessed correctly where his target was and the missile came down upon the tank’s engine deck though he had been aiming for the turret. The missile’s shaped charge warhead blasted a stream of molten metal downward into the armoured vehicle’s engine with relative ease, brining it to a rapid halt. Neither mercenary had time to savor the kill as they quickly scurried away from the grove of trees as several high explosive fragmentation shells smashed into it behind them, fired from a number of BMP-3s.

-----

To say that the Kilrany Imperial Navy was beginning to get annoyed would have been a colossal understatement, as the Me’ei continued to saturate the Zuiderzee Strait with their surface and subsurface combatants; the latter being assumed as much as the former was being detected, the KIN grew more and more hostile to any vessel belonging to the Me’ei. Aggravated, agitated and just plain out of patience with the Me’ei and their actions, Kilrany naval command ordered that Forth and Fifth Fleet sortie in to the Strait.

Sailing out of the Trinaga naval facilities on the Southwest of Kilrany, both task forces were reinforced with warships from the independent operations group, their intent to roll up in through the strait and in essence give the Me’ei a giant, “Fuck off back to your ports,” message and relieve the pressure on the lighter forces already therein. Making up this large, combined force was five Poseidens, six Kirov class cruisers, fifteen Sovremenny class Destroyers, fifteen Udaloy class destroyers and twenty-two Neustrashimy class frigates, the Vengeance class carrier and two Kuznetsovs merged temporarily with Sixth Fleet, which was to remain in reserve farther to the Southwest.

Codenamed Kessel, the task force was under the command of Admiral Feofan Jawlensky, who was currently forming Kessel up one hundred kilometers Southwest of the Southern entrance into the Strait.

-----

In the early morning light, Sergeant Orest Yakovlovich Falk scanned the Diggledom landing zone through the high-powered scope, carefully looking for anyone of importance. Not that it would have mattered much though he mused to himself as he lay on the ground within a grove of trees on the heights East-Northeast from Malyshev, next to him his spotter, Simon, lay looking through a pair of binoculars. Both of them wore a Leshiji suit with bits of Novajev foliage to better blend in.

“This position is no good Simon,” Orest spoke quietly without taking his eye away from his scope, “They’re a good two clicks away.”

“Two point four clicks if this sight is to be believed,” he referred to the ranging lines upon his binoculars, “I wouldn’t worry, they’ll come closer yet.”

“Indeed they will, but I’d prefer to pick them off well beyond their rifle range,” he growled slightly, “Should have taken that Barrett rather then my DSR-1, I could sowing havoc among them right now.”

Simon grunted in amusement, “A little blood thirsty are we?”

Orest growled again, “So what if I am? These God damned bastards have come in here, ruined everything and aim to kill us. My only solace now that this group isn’t Kilrany is that I wont have to feel bad for putting a round in to them, like hell I’m going to leave this world without company.”

Once again Simon grunted in amusement, “So why not accept your people’s offer of surrender then?”

Orest grunted slightly at the almost sarcastic tone in Simon’s voice, “You know why, I may trust the word of my own people, but why should I trust these foreigners, these interlopers?”

“Why indeed.”

He didn’t respond to Simon’s verbal jab, merely grumbled to himself some more as he picked out potential targets from what he could see, focusing first on any other snipers, marksmen, officers, radio operators, machine gunners and so on down the list of priority targets. He was a particularly unhappy individual just now, like many of the current Kilrany mercenaries, he had originally volunteered to serve with the Republicans, he himself had come from the Kilrany Army Special Recon unit, specifically the sniper division, and much like those Kilrany he had quickly become disillusioned with the Republicans.

When the offer had been made to join this mercenary outfit he had thought it was his big ticket, work for the Novajev a year pretending to be their soldier, then go home with a nice fat paycheck and do just about anything he could want to. Now he believed all that had been taken away from him and he thought it likely he would die; so now he was angry, and he aimed to take it out on those he felt most responsible, failing that, whoever is closer.

“What the fuck is going on up there?”

If it hadn’t been for the seriousness of the question and their situation, Karl would have laughed at the look upon Paul’s face, a strange mix of surprise, anger and confusion, That’s the question now isn’t my friend, what is going on, so close we were, now we’re stuck in this God forsaken Strait with more warships passing over our heads then at last years wargames.

At length Karl finally chose to respond to the intelligence operative and while he would have liked to be a sarcastic bastard in his response, he chose to go with polite, “We don’t know yet, perhaps we caused more of a ruckus with that missile launch then we expected and all are posturing now. Whatever the case may be, we will stay here on the bottom until things quiet down.”

This obviously didn’t satiate Paul as his facial expression did not change, but he said nothing, instead snapped his head back and forth to look about the control room of the old Los Angeles class attack submarine before stamping off through a hatch. Only now, for a moment, did Karl let a smile come across his face, it quickly disappeared when the reality of their situation came crashing back in on him and he sighed in exhaustion.

Their vessel lay quietly on the bottom of the sea floor within the Zuiderzee Strait a mere one hundred and twenty some kilometers from the Southern exit. They had successfully made their way back North away from Novajev and out around Novrezina to the East and had so far been passing through the Strait without incident, then unknown to them the Delesa launched several missiles and the Me’ei had charged out of their ports. With so many surface ships about it was impossible for them to move completely silently, and they could not yet risk detection, so here they sat, a stones throw from freedom on the bottom of the ocean.

If our luck holds maybe this will blow over soon enough, musing to himself still, he walked over to his sonar operator and picked up an extra headset, with nothing else to do for the moment, he listened.

*edit for later*

Map Reference (http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i189/seanmyhre/plan.jpg)

Flight Lieutenant Ryan Blackburn looked over his right then left shoulder, visually checking that his flight of four AH-1Z Super Cobras were in formation. They moved at a slower pace, scanning ahead for any signs of targets and or threats to the landing force. Blackburn rotated his head, hearing the pop in his neck; he let out a sigh of relief. Then in the corner of his eye he caught the launch, then the systems in the cockpit started to go off. The flight broke up, spreading out to easier maneuvering, but it was too late for Cobra Y-213, as Blackburn banked hard right, and popped flares, a missile struck halfway between the rear rotor and the main fuselage, sending the cockpit into a violent spin. Blackburn and the other pilot were thrown up against the side of the cockpit, unable to defy force and reach the controls.

The other Cobra’s, armed with the AN/AAR-47 missile warning system, which uses infrared detectors to detect the missile plume straight to the target, and fired off a salvo of 70mm rockets and racing over top of the target area, raking it with 20mm Gatling gun rounds.

Blackburn and Y-213 were losing altitude fast, and finally they took their final plunge, smashing into the ground in a cloud of dirt and smoke. It rolled and crunched into a heap of scrap metal. Finally it came to a rest, the nose deep into the soil, the cockpit tilting slightly to the left. It took a moment but Blackburn came too, shaking his head. He could feel the blood ooze from a gash on his forehead down his face. He tried to raise his right arm to check the true extent of the damage, but found a pain that ran up his entire right side. He looked in the forward seat were Richard was seated, but knew instantly he was dead, his head resting oddly on his shoulder, his neck broken. Smoke was beginning to pour out from the nose into the cockpit. Ryan begun to punch the cockpit with is left arm, but it did nothing. He looked around for his pistol, finding it at his feet, he grabbed it and fired three rounds into the glass door, then used the butt to smash his way out.

He fell to the ground with a thump after pulling himself out with great pain; his right leg of his flight suit was soaked in blood. He wiggled on the ground like a pathetic worm caught in the scorching sun, finally resting with his back up against was remained of his Cobra. He could hear the thunderous boom of the naval guns impacting the ground behind him, back towards the beach. He looked up in the sky, but it was empty, his flight had left the potential danger area till it could be cleared out. SOP. He shook his head, and then with his left arm, tossed his flight helmet off into the grass. He couldn’t move, the pain too great. So he sat and waited, his only option. Ryan looked at the streak of blood down the Cobra and almost cried. He knew had had lost a lot of blood, and before anybody got to him he would probably bleed out. He wasn’t scared of dieing, he was scared because he hadn’t got a chance to phone his wife, to say goodbye before the Operation started. Blackburn pulled out a laminated photo of his wife that has in his shoulder pocket.

All one could do is sit back and wait.

---

Admiral Conrad and General Wolfe stood in the CIC of the Refuge. The radio cracked, “Cobra Y-213 is down. Y-213 is down, remainder of flight pulling back.” She looked at the satellite video feed, closing her eyes just before the helicopter hit the ground.

“Where is the nearest ground unit?” Asked General Wolfe.

“Second Battalion of the Loyal Edmonton Tank Regiment. Armoured skirmish patrols have been sent forward, G-Wagons and Boxer MRAVs mostly.”

“Reroute the closest patrol. Search for any survivors and retrieve the bodies. Dead or alive. Inform the patrol that they have priority air support of the F/A-18s.”

“Yes sir.”

---

Sergeant Chris Merry drove the lead G-Wagon in his patrol, another G-Wagon and Boxer behind him. He pushed down the accelerator as he came over a hill, launching the Mercedes into the air, coming to a screeching halt. He listened to the orders come over the radio.

“Roger that, enroute now. ETA three minutes max.” He slammed his foot onto the accelerator again, surging the SUV forward over the terrain. In the distance the patrol could make out the tower of smoke. “Fucking hell, it’s like a sign advertising for the enemy to come pick ‘em off. Look lively boys, we may have a serious situation on our hands. Wagons will provide cover for the Boxer who will load up the pilots. We are out as fast as we are in.” The patrol pulled up on the crash, the G-Wagons parking on the inland side, the Boxer on the cockpit door side, where a body laid. Corporal Jeffery Saint opened the rear door of the Boxer and his squad ran out, he followed with Private Alex Rivers with a collapsible stretcher in hand. Private Williams knelt down beside the body leaning on the crashed bird, and checked the pulse. Private Ramset looked inside the cockpit for the other body.

“Found the other.”

“Got a weak one here.” Said Williams, waving over the stretcher.

“Get him in the Boxer, get the medic out here too.”

Operation Red Stick – Invasion of Novajev
Red Beach (J9-J7) – 3rd Battalion, LETR

Lieutenant Colonel Mark Shaw looked onto the beach through his binoculars. The first way of his tank battalion was moving incredibly slow, which pissed off the already hotheaded officer. He looked around for his orderly. He was standing on the upper deck of a Frank Besson LSV vessel.

“Nixon get your ass over here. I want to know what the hold up is.” A short man came walking at a fast pace from behind, a piece of paper in his hand.

“Sir, the CO on the beach has reason to believe there are mines. He ordered the advance to stop until the engineers are brought up.”

“Tell him to get MY MEN off the beach. If they bloody well stay on the beach, mines won’t be his biggest problem, my boot up his arse will be.”

“Yes sir.” The orderly ran back towards the communications.

“And send in the rest of the battalion!” Shaw yelled after him.

Gold Beach (G7-H9) – 1st and 2nd Battalion Royal Marines

Captain Anthony Limerick looked around the beach. Artillery rounds were falling all around, but there was so far no infantry to speak of yet, which confused most of the officer. “Keep your god damn heads down! And keep an eye for the merc bastards!” He would yell. M113 Armored Personal Carriers supported the attack, sheltering what was possible from the artillery, and taking the wounded into care. Sixteen men so far had been injured, and two had died. But these were the Royal Marines, and they pushed their way past the beach, out of the main fire of the artillery, but the firing had ceased, for the moment. Picket lines were sent forward with a couple of M113s to scout ahead, while the remainder of the battalions were brought onto the beach, while the wounded and dead were ferried back to the ships.

HMDS. Refuge
Supporting East Peninsula Landing

The CIC was rather quiet considering what was going on all around. The crew remained calm, adrenaline was proven to reduce the IQ, and so everyone was trained to the best of the Navy’s ability to remain calm to keep their wits. Now that doesn’t mean it was rushed or fast paced, it quite was. Only General Wolfe and Admiral Conrad seemed to be the only ones not doing anything, as if they didn’t really belong there. They watched the large screens that were of various things; live video feed from the commands on the beaches, satellite video feeds, digital updated maps, and unit status indicators.

“Sir, ma’am, Gold beach has come under artillery fire, but have yet to run into any infantry forces.”

“Take a look at the satellite video, rewind it if you have to, have the computer run the SAD program. Find the pricks and blast them with some good old air support.” Ordered the General. SAD or Search and Decipher was a program designed as satellite program that used high definition vision video of thermal and night vision to pick up possible targets. You could refine the search, as in this case, to look for rapid sudden bursts of heat and smoke. Problem was it was a new toy and took a while the read the video, so targets moved, but by rewinding it, you could fast-forward to present and follow the trail if the suspect moved during that time.

All one could do is sit back and wait.

F/A-18E Super Hornet
308th Fighter Wing - HMDS. Refuge

Captain Brett Olsen checked his console, just making sure everything was working, as it should. Lieutenant Peter Rowling flew as his wingman, they would a good pair Rowling had the maneuvers like no other and Olsen the tactical mind of a General.

“I was hoping to shoot down some birds when I heard we were headed to war.” Rowling spoke into his radio.

“Yeah, well life is full of disappointments. Just keep an air open for any anti-air. Just got word that a Cobra was shot down.”

“My god. The chickens won’t fight us in the air, so they pick us off from the ground. What a cruel world.” This coming from Rowling, who was flying a million dollar war machine bent on shooting someone down.

“Stand-by, we may have us a sortie.” Olsen paused, listening to the orders from the Refuge. “Ok, we have multiple ground targets, artillery shelling Gold beach. It’s mobile and in a civilian area. Take all necessary precautions to limit civilian casualties, but targets must be eliminated.”

“Roger that Ollie. Following your lead.”

“Breaking right. Course 028, GPS updated from mission control. Arming GBU-12 Paveway II.” The F/A-18 broke off towards the right; Olsen pushed the throttle forward and sped off towards the target area. They made a quick fly over.

“Ollie, I didn’t see dick all. No artillery visible.”

“We’ll take a second pass.” They did so but again with nothing. Olsen switched his radio to contact command. “We need to verify the target area.” We waited as command responded. “Cracker flight IS in that area. We have no visual contact with any artillery.”

“Wait, Ollie, THERE, THERE! I think I saw something moving in the street and it wasn’t any civ car! I can’t see anything with these night vision goggles. Request to make a third pass Ollie.”

“Alright, but last time, if there is any anti-air, they should be nice and warmed up. APG-79 should be able to up any tracking radars. Break, break.” Again the two aircraft spun around and took a high pass over the target area. Rowling, aka ‘Roller’, inverted his bird and watched the ground carefully. “Control says there should be a group of four of the buggers.”

“Well I can confirm a count of only three, can’t see a fourth if there is one. Marking targets on the map.”

“Fine we’ll take what we can get. Weapons hot, beginning attack run.” Now the two F/A-18s turned around, as they neared the targets, Olsen released one un-powered, guided GBI-12 bombs, and Rowling two of the bombs.

1st Battalion, 5th Airborne
Mid-flight

Corporal Karl Cox held his stomach, bent over. He wasn’t airsick rather he was homesick. Worried about never seeing his mom again. Right out of high school, he didn’t really know anything other then his school life and what the army offered. He was athletic, very strong and had average marks. He excelled quickly in the Airborne, proving he was a capable leader and fighter. But in reality his entire platoons were boys out of high school, barely old enough to shave. 5th Airborne was really were you went for training before moving on to either ground forces or bigger and better airborne regiments. But the Regiment’s Colonel insisted to the Defence Board that the 5th Airborne needed a chance to prove themselves in true combat. It was thought that after the landing and some fighting they would be pulled out and replaced by the 1st Airborne for the remainder of the operation. Karl didn’t mind. Getting on the plane, and somewhere over the ocean he realized how much he missed his mom, and the peace back home, knowing full well the reality of war, told to him by his father. His was killed while serving with the 2nd Royal Parachute Regiment, which acting as peacekeepers in Khurzav, during the early stages of the operation.

One could say that Karl wasn’t mad that his dad had given his life in the name of peace and security for the world, but there was a little tension, possibly more fear of serving in the same region, this time under a banner of war. But Karl made a vow to not spill a second generation of Cox blood in the SFR region.

Even over the roar and rumble of the four large Pratt and Whitney PW2040 turbofan engines of the C-17 Globemaster Tactical Transport plane, he could hear the different engine pitch and looked out the window behind his seat, and flying just above the C-17 formation was a flight of F-22A Raptors, probably caught up from Delesa, refueling in mid-flight. He looked below him and it was still pitch dark, but a shimmer of light glanced off the water. The flight was currently flying over Kilrany Territorial waters in the thin channel.

All one could do is sit back and wait for the shit to hit the fan.

Dog Company, 2nd Battalion, 5th Airborne Regiment
Mid-Flight (G7)

Dog Company flew ahead of the main flight of 5th Airborne C-17s, because of their importance to the operation to halt any attempt of a flanking maneuver. Below the two C-17s of Dog Company, each C-17 carrying 100 paratroopers, the eastern fleet would be made out, the aircraft carrier Refuge and others. The order was given to stand up and prepare to jump, the rear down was lowered and a bright red light, that even reached the eyes of the men in the far back turned on. The jumpmaster leaned out the door and saw the shore and then asked the pilot to confirm location, and he got the ok. The jumpmaster threw his hand up in a thumb up signal and the pilot switched the light to green, the jumpmaster then brought his hand down to a salute.

i'm not wholly happy with this, but i think it shall do

Bitarjev, Novajev

Harris dropped to one knee as his men fanned out around the waterfront, their vision green through their helmet-mounted goggles. Despite its unnatural feel, Harris had become accustomed to the surreal landscape his goggle painted after sunset. Taking a moment to gauge his surroundings, he looked up at the evening sky in all its obscurity and then again at the streets entirely devoid of human beings.

A dull rumble rolled through the town. Some of the marines just out of basic turned their heads towards the south, Harris simply noted it as artillery bombardment. After the Delesian missile bombardment and the chaos it had caused–though Harris knew only a few details as a mere marine captain–he worried about what he perceived as heavy-handedness. That they continued to shell the south and suffer landing casualties concerned him. And yet it also helped him. Although he expected the mercenaries to be divided into different geographic commands, if they had any sort of communications they could well be made to believe that the Delesians were the primary invasion force.

As the second landing craft motored up to the seawall, Harris waved the men aboard to move to the shore. They quickly did just that, moving with them the machine guns and mortars that he wanted set up as quickly as possible. His company had met no resistance throughout the town, only a few nervous inhabitants opening doors and closing them upon seeing men with rifles running through the streets. "Establish a position at the edge of town covering the main road," he ordered to the weapons section. As they left to follow Harris' orders, he directed the mortar teams to set up in the nearest available open space to the port.

He found his radioman, who had remained by Harris' side, and ordered him to report to the Adventure and call for the follow-on forces to arrive. Under the cover of the cloudy night, the second wave of landing craft departed from the Adventure, this batch loaded with infantry fighting vehicles–command not wanting to risk heavier tanks upon the civilian infrastructure. Also aboard, the engineers needed to transform Bitarjev into a functioning military port.

North of Klishev, Novajev

After nightfall, Henderson took care to establish an aerial reconnaissance of the area primarily around Travoro and secondarily around northern Klishev–Clare being responsible for the UAV reconnaissance of Klishev. The initial photographs indicated that the airfield was a complete loss. At the very least command was satisfied that the mercenaries had no credible aerial assets to oppose the landing–just artillery and prepared fortifications.

Henderson, however, had taken an interest in a small batch of moving thermal signatures amidst the forests north of his position. "We could radio in their position, sir," his sergeant whispered. "A few rounds from the dreadnoughts should do it. If not the shells, the tree shrapnel."

The marine officer nodded. He did agree. It would be an efficient means of dealing with the problem. Though there was also no indication that the dozen or so people were aware of his location. But then Henderson shook his head.

"No, simply track them. Have we identified any significant sites in Klishev yet?"

"No, sir. We might have spotted a BMP or two–but at this point it is only informed speculation. We cannot yet be certain."

"Actionable?"

The sergeant hesitated, and Henderson shook his head again. "We could take them, sir, and get them back out by chopper. Have the admiral interrogate them."

"No, I thought of that. While we have surprise and favourable terrain, they have a nearly two-to-one advantage. Besides, if they reach Klishev, their commanding officer or some other officer of importance will be debriefing them. We keep a UAV on them. We identify the sight and take it out. Hopefully we wreck their command and control and convince whoever is left to surrender when they move up from the beaches."

"Should we do anything?"

Henderson glanced over at the snipers in the section. "Keep an eye on them. If they begin to get too close, let me know."

Royal Naval Air Station Bedric Harbour
Bedric Harbour, Novikov, United Kingdom

The Me'ei fleet movements in the past several hours had caught the attention of the Admiralty in Georgetown, which had no desire to explain away the loss of a task force in foreign waters. Consequently, while Hamilton's assets moved to reinforce the Russkyan containment forces two flights of aerial tankers took to the skies along with fighter escort. With airborne command platforms indicating no foreign military flights in Oceanian airspace, the tankers took to the skies first followed later by their escorts.

They moved towards holding positions between the UK and the region. Shortly afterwards, two flights of long-range stealth bombers took to the skies, followed up by more visible, non-stealth strategic bombers–all of them loaded with heavy anti-shipping missiles. Shortly after their launch, the coalition was informed of their mission, as were the Russkyans. The coalition were also informed that the Me'ei were being informed of the launch of strategic interdiction assets. However, their information did not include details on the launch or even inclusion of stealth assets.

HMS Triumphant
Southern Entrance to the Zuiderzee Strait

Since the start of the conflict, a single Oceanian guided missile submarine had lain in wait at the mouth in the then-perceived remote possibility that an enemy force would attempt to blockade the strait and bottle up Oceanian forces. For the first time since the start of the conflict, that remote possibility seemed likely. And so the Triumphant now kept a close watch on the Me'ei surface groups along with any possible submarines that attempted to transit or otherwise blockade the Strait.

HMS Clement
Northern Entrance to the Zuiderzee Strait

Like the Triumphant to the south, Captain Moore had taken the Clement to an entrance into the Strait. Since delivering the special forces onto Novajev and the decision to land Royal Marines, he had been ordered to accomplish his secondary mission: securing the Strait. His asdic operators kept a close eye on their monitors. Especially since the Delesian missile launch the Strait had become a popular scene and his crew were nearly having a difficult time keeping track of the near hundred combat ships in the Strait. And those submarines that the Clement was fortunate enough to detect.

HMS Majestic
Tsycentralnoye Morye

"More ships?"

"Yes, Admiral. The Kilrany appear to be committing over fifty ships, including three carriers." Hutchinson responded, showing Hamilton the various satellite photographs with Kilrany warships streaming into the Strait. "It is getting very tight in there, sir. All it would take is a nervous Me'ei lieutenant-commander, some flight officer, or maybe someone from our side."

"Now that is something I would rather not imagine," Hamilton said gravely.

The Admiralty Buildings were a combination of pre-Soviet architectural masterpiece and stoic Soviet concrete. The two pre-Soviet buildings were the Admiralty House and a second building referred to as "The Officer's Mess," which had used to be an operations centre before rennovations in 1952 turned it into a galley, mess hall, and dormitory.

This left the latter set of buildings, Soviet-era constructions of formed concrete built in a rough "U" shape at the rear of the Admiralty House and The Officer's Mess. The area they enclosed was referred to "The Courtyard," and this area had originally hosted sixteen concrete statues of various political leaders and naval figures. In order to appease the Soviets, until 1991 a statue of Lenin had stood here. A bust of Stalin had stood at the other end of the courtyard until 1988.

Inside the walls of the Admiralty House, a sailor of many years experience strode down the polished marble floor. The roof arched elegantly above him, inlaid with an amber filigree. Being "pre-Soviet" was sometimes used as an alternative way of saying "Tsarist Decadence," though none but the stalwart Russkyan Communists cared in an ideological way what it was labelled as. Almost all of his countrymen appreciated good architecture and interior design, just as they appreciated fine watercolours and oil paintings, Mozart as well as their own composers such as Ekhbarimaya, many being fanatical opera devotees. All of this was away from the point as he turned a handle and pushed open a door on its well balanced hinges.

"Admiral."
"Lukash. Welcome."

Part of the Admiralty since 1993, Lukash Ulfovich Zhiznetsky was hovering on the edges of retirement. Inside this room with deep bookshelves made of aged teak, was the Admiral of the Green Konstantin Egerevich Vorobiev. His flag hung from one wall, and Lukash saluted it as was the custom, stepping across the threshold.

The ensuing discussion covered the Strait's geography. It was hard-packed sand along the bottom, ninety meters of salt water standing above this on average. Isothermal, there was no famous "thermal layer" for submarines to hide under. Certain spots near the Me'ei and Kilrany coastlines encountered variable salinity, which formed a barrier that protected anything within those spots from sonar detection. The other side of this was, of course, that anything within those spots suffered the same handicap. The use of the spots along the coast of Me'i frustrated the stalking RVMF submarine captains: a pair of outdated antisubmarine vessels with reservist crews were used to garrison each of the seven notable spots along the coastline, and if a Me'ei submarine thought itself hunted, it could disappear into these areas and be protected by nervous reservists whose inclination was to "go active" at any unidentifiable noise. The RVMF considered it the mark of an experienced commander to find his way inside one of these sonar areas without being detected by the "ASW Hull" on either side of this audio barrier.

A deeper channel ran through the middle, a mixture of hard-packed sand and loose rock. At its deepest, a hundred and thirty meters. On average, a hundred and ten meters depth, with the channel being a good ten kilometers wide at its narrowest. These depths made the Zuiderzee Strait more suitable to diesel-electric submarines such as the RVMF's Haenulf-class and the KIN's U212/214s. Both navies operated Antey-class, one of which was generally parked in the Strait. While Zhiznitsky was unable to speak for the KIN's Anteys, he knew the RVMF's were heavily refitted and as quiet as a nuclear submarine could be. Doctrine was to keep them outside the Strait's shallows, hence the silent run required to bring the vessel into the choke point. This discussion went on to cover the RVMF's contribution to the gagglefuck that was the Zuiderzee Strait, approximately fifty-five combat vessels. As had already been observed by their Oceanian counterparts, it was becoming quite crowded indeed.

This discussion was interrupted by the entrance of an aide. Vorobiev brightened immediately.

"Weatherby! You rogue!"

Sublieutenant Medvedev had not the first clue how he had become "Weatherby," but as he liked the Admiral and was in any case outranked by several grades, humoured his superior. With the updated reconnaissance satellite imagery and electronic warfare data delivered he moved to carry on.

"Toast, Weatherby."
"Your pardon, sir?"
"Toast! And some ham, I think. And for you, Lukash Ulfovich?"
"Pickles. Some cheese."
"So. Bread, cheese, ham, pickles, some mustard."
"Tea, sir?"
"Yes Weatherby, tea. Bring us a samovar. And find me that damnable operations officer."
"Very good, sir."

"So, Lukash. What are our little Asiatic friends up to?"
"Well sir, they've stopped shoehorning assets into the area. RVMF-AV maintains air superiority, it's almost as if they're afraid to put anything in the sky. I talked with the Aviatsii and they say that it's time to cycle the aircrews. They're going to put the fresh aircraft up now, then bring the old aircraft down, so there's no break in coverage."
"Marvellous."

Konstantin Egerevich rubbed his eyes tiredly with one hand, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking at his associate of many years, who was rearranging little wooden ships painted in various colours on the mapboard in accordance with the latest intelligence.

"Lukash Ulfovich."
"Yes, Konstantin?"
"If this map mattered, I would have an operations officer keep it up to date. This is my break. Better that these markers not update every few seconds."

Lukash pushed a handful of red markers ahead and then sat back in his chair. The miniature battleships, destroyers, frigates, and corvettes now represented where Shapov's sixteen combat vessels faced down a very large contingent of the Me'ei People's Navy of Liberation. A simple glance at the map showed that they were now well within each other's RADAR ranges, and ELINT showed how the MPNOL vessels were attempting to browbeat Captain Shapov, using surface search and targeting radars instead of navigational radars. Aware of the sensitive nature of his vessel's newer electronics, Shapov was relying on the unbroken God's Eye View aerial reconnaissance, codenamed "Heimdallr," and his battlenet systems to maintain an accurate picture of the MPNOL assets facing him.

At that point, Medvedev arrived, bearing a tray from the Ship's Silver laden with food fresh from the galley.

"Compliments from the galley, m'lord, fresh baked bread."
"Marvellous, Weatherby! Where's the toasting fork?"

Unwilling to let his composure slip and thus lose the Aristocratic Englishman Game to his superior officer, Medvedev set the tray down before responding, taking those few moments to compose a response. He delivered it in a perfect deadpan, upper class English accent.

"I should imagine that the galley boy stole it, my Lord. Shall I have him flogged?"
"If you'd be so kind, Weatherby. Where are your manners, you scurrilous rogue! Pour for my guest! Adjutant!"
"A thousand pardons, Vice Admiral Zhizhnetsky."

Summoned by the Admiral of the Green, a seaman appeared at the doorway, white gaiters contrasting sharply with the black glass shine that were his "ammunition boots" and the dark blue of his bellbottomed trousers. He saluted.

"Sir!"
"Adjutant! With Weatherby here, you will find the man who has absconded with the toasting fork, the rightful property of His Britannic Majesty's Fleet. Have him flogged."
"Very good sir. Will that be all?"
"I think so, Petty Officer. Infact, before you go, get this fire burning like the blazes of Hell and then carry on."
"Of course sir."

While the Petty Officer (Second Class) busied himself at the grating, using shaven birch logs to build up the banked fire in the age-old fireplace, Weatherby completed his serving of tea from the samovar and stood at Mess Attention, the drillbook perfect pose for a subordinate serving in the Officer's Mess.

"Weatherby!"
"Admiral?"
"Toast my bread for me, there's a good chap. Black as the hair of that damnable rogue sitting across from me."
"Without the toasting fork sir, I'm afraid that your dining experience would take on the nature of cannibalism."
"Well, you'd best find that toasting fork then, hadn't you, old boy? Take the Starshina with you and have that thief flogged."
"Very good, my Lord."
"Dismissed, Weatherby."

Inclining his head slightly as a bow, the two amused Naval men left the Admirals alone on their break.

"Well Lukash, back to the grind in another few minutes."
"Quite. My Lord?"
"Ah yes. Poor 'Weatherby' is convinced I'm the First Sea Lord now. Too many repetitions of "Sink the Bismarck!" in the junior officer's mess, I fear."

The two shared a private laugh. Zhiznetsky speared a chunk of ham, dipping it in the honeyed mustard as is the custom and taking a fierce bite out of it, thinking darkly about that unknown foreigner who'd launched ballistic weapons and made this entire situation possible.

-- --

Despite his stomach currently manifesting itself as a nervous tight ball crunched into the lower half of his torso, Shapov forced himself to down a bottle of water. Nerves were causing the entire CIC Room staff to sweat, but that was natural to the crews of any sixteen-vessel Group in the process of staring down a significantly larger group of MPNOL destroyers and other surface combatants.

An hour ago, another surface group had passed by and a number of MPNOL vessels from the first group had joined it, heading north towards the Central Sea itself, where Taskforce Samoilev was racing to intercept them. The recce information available under the heading Heimdallr showed the Oceanian vessels moving to support this, and as soon as the two Navies were within two hundred kilometers of each other the RVMF had plans to launch a pair of Ka-27s carrying liason teams and equipment. The Admiralty was well aware that the Oceanians only had one way home, thought well of them based on historical research and the brief conversation between Group Vienna and their fleet, and were willing to risk something so small as two Ka-27s and a liason team to determine how friendly they were willing to be.

Currently, KIN's actions were the subject of much concern. The insertion of such a large force, combined with the MPNOL assets in the Strait being blockaded into the narrow killing lanes by Taskforces Samoilev and Milan, was almost garunteed to cause friction. The RVMF considered it their job to prevent the two from meeting, hence the attempt to link Groups Vienna and Gothenburg and use them to force the MPNOL assets between the two blocking forces to one side, north or south.

As it stood now, the MPNOL group designated "Ricebowl," facing down Shapov's Group Vienna, numbered thirty-one combat vessels and one replenishment ship. The majority were Kuang-Seng class destroyers, more correctly identified as frigates, though a number of late-generation Type 7373 Mod. II destroyers - six to be precise - were present. These were quite correctly identified as destroyers and posed the majority of the threat to Shapov's command, as well as that of K1 Oels-Grohe. For a matter of comparison, the Type 7373 could be thought of as a "Super Shenzhen" or a "Long Luhai" class, as derived from the Chinese PLAN's Project 054 vessels. The "Long Luhai" carried twenty-four surface to surface missiles, the standard load being a eight meter long weapon with a range of 175km and a two ton warhead, capable of a velocity just over Mach 1.5. Secondary armaments and SAMs were identical to that of the Luhai/Shenzhen class, though she displaced 7,800 tons and was a good fifteen meters longer. Alarmingly, the Mod. II upgrade included vastly superior electronics that allowed for reliable and fast fire control, though the RADAR systems still boasted a range of "only" 250km. The Kuang-Seng class were identical to the PRC's "Jiangwei-II" class light frigate.

There were three other major surface groups. One, numbering twenty vessels, was storming south towards Kontr-Admiral Uzbenko's command. Comprised of a Nao-bei class cruiser and her escort vessels, this group had very little hope of dealing with Milan's powerful addition, courtesy of Admiral Chernyakovsky's Taskforce St. Petersburg, in the form of two Solquist-class battlecruisers.

To the north and most likely to spark conflict, a twenty-seven vessel group, designated "Chopstick," was in the process of pissing off Group Captain Taranichev. Their habit of "lighting off" a SAM targeting RADAR on one of his surveillance aircraft had very nearly resulted in the firey deaths of all aboard that ship, his thought to order the strike aborted by the realization that he really had no wish to be held responsible for going "beyond the call of duty in protecting a comrade" and causing the deaths of millions.

Chopstick consisted of no less than three Nao-beis with a load of forty heavy SSMs each. Escorted by ten Type 7373 Mod. II and four Mod. I, the remaining vessels were for some inexplicable reason Comrade Han-Jiang class corvettes, horribly outdated despite the "Mod. XVII" refitting of eight missiles identical to those carried by the 7373 Mod. II. For these reasons, assuming the RVMF Liason Detail got from the flightdecks of Taskforce Samoilev to the Oceanian group, the three foreign vessels would be welcome.

-- --

Unfortunately for the MPNOL submariners, their as-of-now nonexistant battle was going horribly. Haenulf-class submarines had arrived out of the darkness, acquired their loud Me'ei counterparts easily in the shallow isothermal waters, and were now tailing them. Tailing, because the engine spaces on the average Me'ei submarine were very large, even by the standards of other navies where those spaces were large to fit the bulky machinery required.
A penetrating shot there would garuntee a sinking, no matter how instantaneous and effective the damage control might be.

Part of Submarine Group Volga, led very ably by K1 Klimenti. F. Evseev, those ten Haenulfs were in the shallow waters of the Strait precisely because of their diesel electric propulsion. The comparatively louder Akulas under Evseev's command were stationed in the Central Sea itself. His lone Antey class continued to creep into the Strait, the hearts of all of its crewmen in their mouths as the charts showed the seafloor rising, rising, and the depth becoming progressively more shallow. The Antey would hold at 120 meters depth in the deepest part of the "Canyon" that ran through the Strait, and with any luck the submariner's Gods would find fit to mask the pump noise, and other small reactor noises that so easily reflected off the bottom, inherent to any nuclear sub.

HMS Chatham
Zuiderzee Strait

Despite the increasing air and sea traffic, the active search systems of the air-defence cruiser remained at a medium setting. As Captain Thomas Stockton studied the plot table, he saw no need to provide the Me'ei surface group with any forward knowledge of his small force's capabilities. Ahead, to both port and starboard, the frigates Enterprise and Exton were completely quiet–tactical data fed to them by the Chatham and their own UAVs flying ahead of the frigates.

Yet the term frigate was, perhaps, misleading. In the Royal Navy, the term frigate referred to the smallest warships capable of independent actions–though they often formed the backbone of an escort force. The Type 22, or E class, displaced nearly twenty-two thousand tonnes and over 120 vertical launch cells, equipped mostly with a mixture of anti-ship and surface-to-air missiles. And while not expressly stealth ships, they had been carefully designed to present reduced RCS and thermal signatures–something that Stockton was hoping could be put to good use given his increasingly precarious position between the burgeoning Me'ei surface force and the Oceanian task force.

"What do we have on these, Harold?" Stockton asked his XO, who had been in contact with Hamilton's intelligence officer.

"Not much, sir." She was calm and confident in her response, slowly making her way over to Stockton. "All we know, sir, is that they are cruiser-sized and as such it is to be presumed that they present a significant threat to UK operations in the Tsy…" she paused, trying to remember how to pronounce the proper noun with far too many consonants scattered throughout its construction.

"Centre Sea shall suffice, Commander," Stockton reassured her. "Now, do we have any indication of airborne strike assets?"

"Not much, most of the air traffic seems to belong to the Kilrany and the Russkyans. They appear to be attempting containment. And it appears to be working, sir."

"I do not want to be surprised, Amy," he warned.

"Indeed, sir."

"Has Hamilton tasked us any air support?"

"Indeed, sir. From the Magnanimous, two Nimbies on alert as part of the CAP, two more on the flight deck and then four Kaha'i can be airborne with anti-ship strike packages in fifteen minutes. Within twelve hours we will also have Fleet Air Arm strategic assets in theatre. While at the Admiral's command, his staff assures me that we shall be able to call upon them if necessary."

"Hold the Nimbies in reserve–no need to spook the Me'ei into thinking we are attempting an aerial strike. For the time being let the region take care of its own affairs."

The three Royal Navy ships sailed further south towards their rendezvous with the Russkyans. Sea Sprite drones flew ahead of the frigates, keeping a close eye on Me'ei movements and gleaning anything they could from the electronic emissions of the Me'ei surface group. Further north, the fleet carrier Majestic catapulted two Sea Stratus multi-role fighters into the sky. Their engines glowed reddish orange to those of the deck crew who bothered to pay attention–most did not, as more fighters were taxiing to the catapults.

From Catapult 3, the Majestic then launched an uglier and stockier-looking plane. At full throttle, it too took to the skies, before turning southwards and flying up to seven thousand metres. Unlike the Sea Stratus fighters, what Stockton–and many others–referred to as Nimbies, this aircraft was not equipped with air-to-air missiles, but rather high-speed anti-submarine torpedoes.

"Do they know they are so bloody loud?"

Hamilton felt the urge to scratch his head–but stopped to avoid the cliche. The Clement at the mouth of the Strait had sent a flash report of submerged contacts flooding into the Strait. He hoped that the Clement's natural circulation reactor and turbo-electric drive would obscure her presence, or at least better than those submarines who required noisy pumps. Nonetheless, the Clement remained stationary. Captain Moore kept updated solutions on the various tracks–but without knowing whose submarines belonged to which nations, both he and Hamilton were nervous about being the first to engage.

Hamilton's operations officer nodded with an air of disinterest, or educated distance–Hamilton was never quite sure with the newest member of his staff. "It may well be that they are establishing a trap, using their loudest submarines as bait. If in there position, sir, I would be attempting to lure coalition assets, surface and submerged, into a pre-established area where missile submarines like Triumphant would be waiting."

"I agree, but what if these are the quietest submarines the Me'ei possess?"

"As we do not know, sir," the officer replied, finally raising his blue eyes, chillingly cold and detached, "I would presume that they do in fact possess just such assets and would recommend against sending in any high-value assets. Let our aircraft do some of the work."

The two men found the ASW aircraft they had just witnessed take off, making its way at subsonic speeds towards the identified noisy submarines. Hamilton noted that they were coloured in red, as Huntington believed them Me'ei submarines–though there was no confirmed data to establish that as fact.

As the aircraft approached the submarines, the crew extended a boom contained a MAD detector and executed a low-level fly past. To ensure that the submarines understood they had been identified, the crew circled their aircraft around and dropped an active buoy in their path.

HMDS. Refuge
Vice-Admiral Sarah Conrad continued to watch the events unfold on the beach, but also kept a keen eye on the situation unfolding in the waters to the south. Another video screen had live video feed from another satellite watching the vessels from the several navies maneuver in such a way it was like a choreographed dance. Problem was the United Commonwealth had only sent eighteen ships of war, not including the transports, from the 5th Fleet to the Novajev Theatre. The navies now clogging up the channel were local apart from Oceania, who brought something like forty-five ships. The task force had very little to offer the coalition naval forces, as most ships were needed to assist in the beach assault.

“That is some mess we have start. Looks as though we stirred up the hornet’s nest in Me’ei. Inform the Constant, Loyal, and the Vigilante to head south and assist in the situation. Also get me on the horn with the Oceania Admiral. Inform him that we request to attach three submarines to his force in the south. While those ships are serving attached to the group, they are under his tactical command.”

HMDS. Vigilante
Captain McInnis saw sitting in his stateroom, drinking tea and reading the newspaper. There was a knock on the door.

“Sir, orders from the Admiral.”

“Swell.” He grumbled, “Last time he listened to those we almost started a nuclear war. I swear, my confidence in the Admiralty and the Naval Board is very bloody low.”

“Sorry to hear that sir, but the orders inform us to begin to move south, hook up with the Constant and Loyal. Both of them are Astute class submarines.”

“Yeah, I know them. I know the commanders personally.” He chuckled, “I doubt they really want to go anywhere near us.”

Nonetheless the Vigilante headed south, hooking up with the other submarines and awaited further orders, the confirmation to join the Oceanian force.



ooc: azazia what i mean by this is you'll give my boys orders but i will continue to RP them carrying out the orders, if you even want them.

0842
Diggledom Beachhead
Command Post

There was nothing to indicate that this tent was any different from the other tents that had been dug in, no radio aerials, no guards posted directly at the entry flaps, nothing to indicate that the tent contained the commander of the Novajev Expeditionary force. Lieutenant Colonel Johnson was standing in front of a hastily set-up map table, waiting as various men moved into the tent, all the men moving into the tent, most piling crates of various supplies around the walls, some leaving again, the company commanders staying in the tent. When all six of the company commanders had arrived the briefing began.

“This town here is Volkova,” His finger dimpled the map, leaving a slight crater in the surface, “As you can see, it is sited directly on our flank, which means that it is a priority target. As you can see, this terrain is a bastard. The town is in a bowl, two K east to west and one K north to south. The hillside to the north being reasonable barren, little in the way of cover, rocky terrain, the route we will be taking in, the western side, is lightly forested, the east side is more heavily forested, with two heavily forested areas. There is also a small farm in the area, but I don’t think they will be occupying it; they can easily stay in the town and will be less exposed. Any questions about Volkova?”

Senior Lieutenant O’Brien leant forwards, his one piece tanker overalls showing him to be the commander of 31 Zulu Mk. IIIA tanks, the armoured might of the expeditionary unit. He looked at the map before speaking up, “What is the terrain like for armoured vehicles?”

“The official report says; I quote directly, ‘Ground conditions allow for cross-country movement of all assets’. I would only be worried about the ground if it starts to rain in a serious way; we could get bogged down in a mud bowl. The weather guys say that we will have reasonably clear skies for the next couple of days, so we will have time to move in and take the town before we have to start worrying about that happening. Anything else?”

“When will we get more details on the town itself Sir?” Captain Harding asked, knowing that as the infantry commander it would fall to him to take the town itself.

“There will be a recon mission going in soon, so you will get that when you get the mission brief. On that subject, can you wait behind please Frederickson; I need to have a word with you about that. The last thing you all need to know is that there will be full naval artillery support if needed, as well as our own organic support, just call in the sightings and it will be provided if needed. If there is nothing else, carry on with the digging in, keep the troops alert and all that lads. You are doing well.” He looked down, turning his attention back to the map, signalling the dismissal of the various captains.

Captain Harding picked up his rifle, adjusting the rifle sling so that it sat comfortably over the body armour and his chest rig. He glanced over at his friend, Robert Baker. The mechanised infantry commander and tank commander had been friends since initial officer training, having both come from the same small town near Goltar. He waited for his friend to pick up a case of 12.7mm ammo for one of the tanks mounted machine guns before they both walked out of the tent, heading towards their holding areas, only about 40 metres from each other.

The two soldiers walked through the base, taking in the sights and smells of the newly arriving Diggledom forces. Most of the troops had already been deployed and, as per their training, had immediately begun to dig in. Already the perimeter was defended by several troops in hastily built defences; they had taken several of the ships compliment of heavy weapons, normally stored for the use of any marines, but instead taken to set up effective base defences. The perimeter was being manned by marines that had been dropped in via Helix from the ships of the fleet, the low-level helicopter flights having dropped both the marines and their weapon systems off after the first landings went uncontested.

The positions had been quickly built up using sandbags, the marines then emplacing CIS 50 machine guns, setting them up on their tripods, before making out range cards for the different sites. Less than an hour after the marines had landed they emplaced the weapons, each position being home to one eight man section and their weapons. Each bunker housed a CIS 50 on a tripod, a slightly modified Diggledom weapon based on the Singapore Technologies weapon and one of the Diggledom manufactured versions of the American ACSW. With the NATO weapons in the hands of the marines and the Russian designed equipment held by the army, the Diggledom forces provided a slightly odd looking force.

The cost of the new weapons meant that they were being introduced slowly, with the expeditionary units being the last in the line of the new equipment. So while the mechanised infantry company from the expeditionary unit was armed with VSVs, RPGs and Stormwind GPMGs, most of which were still in serviceable order; the new Diggledom equipment was more based around modern, often slightly upgraded, NATO equipment. But now protecting the landing site were the emplaced machine guns, grenade launchers and several emplaced Javelin missile launchers, as well as the troops themselves.

The vehicles had also begun to be dug in, berms being dug for the tanks, allowing them to present a lower silhouette but still move their turrets so they had a full field of fire. The troop transports were also being slowly dug in, to a less degree though. As each of the BTR-90s rolled onto the beach it was directed to a set location, before the troops began to sandbag themselves in, providing some extra cover.

Across the beachhead the scene was repeated, again and again, the vehicles would roll of the landing ships and be directed to where they would start to dig in. Several of the Pantsyr-S1 air defence systems were set up, running actively, providing air cover for the beachhead while the helicopters dropped off extra supplies and equipment, completing as many missions as possible before they started to encounter enemy fire.

-----

1032
RST-V Echo 2-2A
Diggledom Beachhead

Junior Sergeant Guryev dropped himself into his seat, looking towards his driver.

“We going to get going then? Can’t be out past dinner after all.”

His driver grinned; there had been a running joke about ‘getting back for dinner’ since they had initially been grouped together in the recon section, after they had taken a wrong turning during an exercise and been over four hours late for the evening meal at the barracks.

“Want me to do anything apart from look damn sexy?” The vehicles gunner said, looking up from his ruggedized control computer for the overhead .50 cal.

“You couldn’t do that if your life depended on it mate.” Ivan Brezhnev said, as he finished the final check on the overhead sensor systems.

“Fuck you Ivan. I get more girls than you ever could.” Payne replied, moving the small joystick that controlled the weapon station to ensure he had a full field of fire. To their left, their partner vehicle Echo 2-2B was going through the same initial checks, their sensors and weapons rotating, elevating and depressing to check the full field of movement.

“Right guys, we are going to have a quick scout of the area to the east of our beachhead. We have to clear the area of any observers, for this we have fire support from both our self-propelled mortars here and naval guns off shore. If we really run into trouble then we can call in air-support from the B-52 stick sitting overhead. Of course, we don’t really want to do that, but if we need to we can.”

The junior sergeants briefing was being transmitted to their sister vehicle over the BATNET system, “The main enemy threat will come from emplaced heavy machine guns or guided missiles. All our vehicles have the SLD-500 sensors fitted; we are the only section going out, so our mates we leave here can watch our backs and provide targeting solutions for the mortars and support guns if needed. Any questions?”

When no questions were asked by either of the two crews they pulled out of the Diggledom base, before turning left and heading towards the mountains overlooking the beachhead. The four remaining recon sections, each with two vehicles in were scanning the surrounding area, using their sensors, two vehicles scanning east and south of the beachhead, with four vehicles scanning the west approaches to the base with their various sensors, looking for any indication that there were any weapons being targeted on either the vehicles or the base.

OOC: Apologies for the lack of detail on my section of the landing, I’m finding it difficult to put up anything decent for it given the plethora of other sections I need to write in detail for just now, that and work is being a real bastard on my free time, and I don’t want to leave the thread without a post from me any longer.

On the rather lager recreational beach just South of Kislovodsk the Kilrany landing was progressing entirely unopposed as it was currently outside the line of sight of the mercenary observers. However here the beach was soft and difficult for the armoured vehicles to move quickly, thus the progress of the Kilrany Imperial Naval Infantrymen was much slower then it could have been otherwise.

Leading elements however were already sweeping through the large town next to the Novajev port system, all of which was far to empty in appearance for the Kilrany infantrymen who cautiously made their way through, their Nishomskaya’s providing close fire support should it be needed. At the same time other light infantry sections were moving through to the Northwest, seeking to secure the resort located at the end of a long road East of the city.

The Western landing zone continued to be the most hectic, while their counter battery fire had disrupted any further fire for the larger mortars, those of which still alive were keeping a low profile, the light weight mortars, a large number of eighty-two millimeters, began firing on the landing area from within the capitol of Anjukov. Much like they did for the heavier mortars however, the Kilrany showed themselves more then willing to counter-battery fire on mercenary assets in a town, and once again the Kilrany naval guns opened fire, this time on the largest city on Novajev.

Just East of the Kilrany landing West of Zhideijev near point 115, Corporal Julia Romashkova roared in rage as she slammed the board section of her entrenching tool into the face of a mercenary observation officer who promptly crumpled to the ground unconscious within the narrow slit trench with a broken nose and jaw. His right hand was also broke in several places after he tried to attack her with a knife, to which she had responded by striking his hand with her entrenching tool.

A forward naval infantry element, her section had stumbled on a well concealed mercenary observation point, and after a brief high intensity firefight it had degenerated into a close quarters brawl, unfortunately for the mercenaries, the Kilrany had a advantage in numbers. The distinctive click of a weapon trying to fire an empty magazine caused her to swing around in time to see a mercenary pull a knife and dive at her, his HK-416 hung by its tactical sling much like her own spent Laika.

Without time or room to properly counter his attack, she managed to grab underneath his right hand holding the knife with her left as she fell backwards with him on top. Without room to swing it, she had to let go of her entrenching tool and use her other hand to help hold the knife back as the mercenary put all his effort into forcing the blade down into her throat, within the confines of the narrow slit trench, she couldn’t roll him off or reach her own knife without giving him the chance to kill her.

Their deadlock was broken moments later when one of her section mates, unwilling to risk one of his 7.62x39mm rounds over penetrating and hitting her, stabbed his bayonet equipped RK8 Laika into the mercs lower right back, just below the ribcage and barely missing his spine. Screaming in agony as her section mate jerked back on his rifle, the mercenary’s grip on the blade loosened and she was quickly able to wrest it from his and jam it up through his own throat in turn, but not without cutting her own hand slightly through her gloves.

Instinctively she twisted the blade and pulled it free from the mercenary’s neck before she remembered that it wasn’t hers, letting the blade drop to the ground. Now able to get a good look at her rescuer, she recognized Private Kostya Sychev and thanked him as he lifted the dead body off of her and she got to her feet. She took this quiet moment to swap out her own spent magazine for a fresh one, dropping the empty into a pouch she used for that reason. It was then that she noticed the blood seeping out from her hand and she activated her radio to ask where their section medic was.

While he was bandaging her hand, one of their BMP-3s came rolling forward of the rest to their left and just as it came to a stop nearby, its main gun blasted out a one hundred millimeter HE-F round into Zhideijev, which was responded to almost as it fired by an NSV and a round from a Carl Gustav. The gunner of the Carl hadn’t been expecting the vehicle to stop suddenly and the large HEAT round struck the ground a meter short, while the 12.7mm rounds from the heavy machine gun ricocheted dangerously off the heavy sloped frontal armour; one round slamming into the ground a mere two meters from Julia. Realizing they were in a bad position, the vehicle quickly was kicked into reverse and backed away into lower ground.

As the medic finished with her hand, she heard the distinctive crack of their section marksman’s SVDK, for a moment she envisioned some poor bastard mercenary taking a Russkyan redesigned 9.3x64mm round to the face and smiled. The happy moment passed and she pulled up her Laika with attached underbarrel grenade launcher and moved back to rejoin her fireteam.

-----

The four mercenaries who had fired the short-range surface to air missiles had not waited around in their two separate positions to see how effective their shots had been. Dropping the spent tubes, but keeping their respective grip sticks, they went sprinting back in towards their relatively safe slit trenches. One wasn’t quite so lucky however as he was a little slower in his movement and shrapnel from an exploding seventy-millimeter rocket tore into his upper back. He crumpled to the ground within his trench in agony and cried out in pain before calling out for a medic, he was fortunate in that none metal shards had severed his spine, though it was to early to tell if he would be fortunate enough to live.

As the remaining three Delesian attack helicopters pounded the earth with their rockets and chin mounted guns, they came dangerously close to the city of Khabarovsk, the center of the Eastern forces command and defensive position. A mere four hundred meters from the slit trenches the mercenary infantry were sheltering in from the fire, a number of dug in armoured vehicles reacted to the attack with their own as their gunners took aim.

Just outside the Khabarovsk on the South were two dug in BTR-Ts, their small overhead weapon stations rotating as they tracked their targets with their thirty-millimeter autocannons. Farther to their east a pair of BTR-80s; slightly more exposed but using the densely packed buildings as partial cover began to do the same with their KPTV fourteen point five heavy machine guns, loaded with impact detonating high explosive incendiary rounds.

Much closer to the area of engagement were four BMP-2s, two near each of the trench systems used by the mercenaries who had fired the Sa-18s. All four were bedded down deeply into the ground as most of the other armour in the hands of the defending mercenaries were, only their small turrets cleared the ground around them. While natural camouflage was added to these positions to hide them visually, a far more troubling addition was made to the heavier armour, including the BMPs. Laying atop them was a fabric like covering known as Kontrast, which reduced their infrared signature significantly along with limiting the return a radar system would achieve off them, more disturbing as all would soon come to find out was that most their armour was equipped with Kontrast.

The Delesian attack helicopters would barely have enough time to finish their first run before these systems opened fire on all three Cobras and their crews lashed out at their adversaries through their respective gun sights.

-----

From his position in a dugout near hill ninety-one just Northeast of Surgusk, Andrey Danilovich Volynsky watched the stricken Delesian attack helicopter come in on its somewhat catastrophic meeting with the ground some eight hundred meters to his South. He was not alone at his observation point but he was the only one with a clear view of the wrecked aircraft and the subsequent rescue by Delesian ground forces.

Through his binoculars he saw the retrieval team do their job and though for a moment it flashed in his mind that he could call down mortar fire upon them and decimate them in the open he didn’t pick up the receiver and make the call. While he had no intention of surrendering to these foreigners, he had no intention of attacking wounded personnel or those conducting a simple recovery operation that did not threaten him.

He was rather suddenly caught off guard when there came a kwoosh ksssssh from behind him that lead to him snapping his head around in time to catch the sight of a pair of the fire and forget Javelin anti tank missiles in their possession burn in overhead towards the beachhead to his South. Launched from the North near their maximum range of two and half kilometers, Andrey was somewhat surprised as he hadn’t yet seen any armour from his position, bastards must have thought they saw some tanks.

Grumbling he shifted his sight back towards the Southern beach currently being landed on by the 1st and 2nd Battalions of LETR and lifted up the receiver, calling in coordinates on what he thought was some troop concentrations. With the heavier mortars currently occupied with their own survival, the fire order was sent to the smaller, eighty-two millimeter mortars located in gun pits near the hearts of the forests to the Southeast and Southwest of Khabarovsk.

Mortar gunners lifted up the lightweight rounds and one by one dropped them into the tubes to be quickly followed by the distinctive thump filling their ears as a total of eight lightweight mortars unleashed nine rounds each over the course of a minute.

-----

OOC: Conversation with Delesa confirmed the F/A-18Es and C-17s were flying well below three kilometers.

The larger communities of Novajev were not ideal for vehicular traffic in most cases, densely packed and with few wide roads, these stone houses loomed over the narrow passageways that cut through them. In Nogorsk this was no different and it would have came as little surprise for the mercenaries below had they know the difficulty the Delesian pilots were having in picking out the four 2S23s moving within.

Fully aware that there were mortars in the town and seeing the repeated passes by fixed wing aircraft, Evgeny put two and two together rather quickly he made a signal with his hand and pointed in the likely direction the hostile aircraft would be coming back in on. With that he lowered himself down in through the turret hatch of his Tunguska M1 and addressed his gunner, “Optics only Lavrenty, I don’t want to be lit up like a Christmas three, blast these bastards straight to hell.”

Through the vehicle’s intercom he heard the rather harsh cackle and the menacing tone in his gunner’s voice as he responded; Evegeny knew full well how much pleasure Lavrenty took in his job, “By thy word, it will be done.”

Barely eight hundred meters to the East of Nogorsk at the Western edge of a forest, four Tunguska turrets rotated in the direction of the incoming Delesian strike fighters, using only their optics however their aim would not be ideal. At nearly the same moment all four systems unleashed two bursts of one hundred and fifty thirty millimeter rounds at a combined rate of fire per system of over four thousand rounds a minute, but it was too late to stop the laser guided bombs from being released.

The dense structure of Novajev towns helped hide one mortar and saved a second by its own movement as it turned a narrow street out of the line of sight of the incoming aircraft. The other two were no where near as lucky with one taking a direct hit and another taking a near miss that was just as lethal. The Novajev homes fared no better then the two destroyed mortar carriers with several heavily damaged by the concussive forces, several of which collapsed as their own structural supports were critically damaged.

“What the hell?” Evegeny spoke aloud only to himself and did not immediately transmit it as he took note of the much larger and slower aircraft coming in towards Voska. There’s only one reason to have transports like that coming over like this.

“Lavrenty, shift fire, transports at ten o’clock, take them down!”

Lavrenty didn’t reply verbally but after his second burst he immediately shifted his sights to acquire the new contacts in his sights while at the same time Evengey broke radio silence on an alternate frequency to his platoon, “Priority targets, transports coming in from the South, gun them out of the sky!”

With a more important threat on their hands now the four air defense systems quickly sifted towards the large C-17 Globemasters, a much larger and slower target for their twin thirty millimeter autocannons, good out to four kilometers. With much larger targets on hand they unleashed much longer duration bursts of fire, nearly two hundred and fifty rounds flashed out towards the Delesian aircraft.

-----

“Fuck!”

Mulyavin’s sudden outburst came as a shock to Admiral Roerich and all those within the CIC as he had been standing where he was rather quietly in what appeared to be deep thought from some time now.

Roerich was the first to speak a moment later, “What?”

Mulyavin glanced from surprised face to surprised face quickly as his thoughts all collected themselves before he finally gave them the explanation they were looking for, “I forgot the oil rig. I forgot about their God damned oil rig sitting off this fucking island!”

They all stared at him for several seconds, each with their own sudden realization at the critical oversight clear on their faces, they had determined the rig to be garrisoned by mercenary forces for security purposes before hostilities had even broken out between the Novajev and Kilrany. Not even the 5th Division Intelligence operative was free from this frustrating revelation, though he had the fortune of a balaclava to hide his own expression.

“How the hell did we forget about that?”

The nearest 5th Division soldier quickly interceded, “It needs to be secured, now. Not only for the economic situation on Novajev when this is concluded, but if those mercs do anything to that fixed platform, its sitting on a over a billion barrels of oil, that would be an environmental disaster for the Tsyentralnoye Morye and our Northern coastline.”

“It’s in the Oceania AO isn’t it?”

“Yes, seven and a half kilometers East Southeast of Travoro. It’s a large platform, doubtful the Oceania forgot about its presence near them.”

Mulyavin spoke up again, “Do we know if they took the workers off? How many are guarding it?”

The operative shook his head, “No, we never determined that, it has living space for up to a hundred people and is nearly a hundred and fifty meters in height from the sea floor, sixty of that out of the water, I would not envy the men tasked to secure that facility.”

OOC: I completely forgot to bring up the oil rig at the little gathering, obviously this segment expresses my own frustration at doing so, but regardless, Azazia, I doubt this rather notable landmark in your area of operation would have gone unnoticed by you had I remembered to mention it, so it kind of goes without saying you could no doubt add a bit about it in your next post as if it was always known, and thus your actions towards it, if you want that is.

-----

Marc Delaroy leaned out slightly over the edge of the railing and peered down towards the floating barge some twenty stories below, the green tinge of his night vision equipment painted him an interesting picture as the waves knocked against the vessel. At nearly sixty meters off the surface of the water he had a commanding view of the seas around them, unfortunately though their numbers were few with only two sections of light infantry stationed on the platform.

The barge in question was used to house most of the rig’s work force, at least those not currently on their shift and was attached to the fixed platform by heavy cable. It was a constant cause for concern in Marc’s mind, even though only half the workers remained; the rest having been withdrawn as the oil rig had been shut down and only a base number of workers were left to keep up routine maintenance, he didn’t trust the civilians not to try something stupid and jump them. It was for that reason that they were kept housed entirely down on the barge when they weren’t working rather then in any of the bunks above where the mercenaries had taken up.

Despite the Kilrany jamming on their primary frequencies and their inability to raise their command structure through other available frequencies, it wasn’t hard for them to figure out there was an invasion of the island going on given the heavy shelling even they could hear. Continuing onwards he addressed his section mate and patrol partner, Sergei Menanov, “I don’t fucking like this one damned bit. If the Kilrany are landing on the island they’re bound to come for us here soon enough.”

“Hmph, you think I like being stuck out here anymore? Relax Marc, we can see anyone trying to get here on the surface with ease, and if anyone tries to play frogmen with us, we have the passageway up covered from multiple angles. I highly doubt anyone would be foolhardy enough to fire heavy weapons at an oilrig either.”

“Damnit, this isn’t what I signed up for, this was supposed to be a simple toy solider bit for a year.”

“Don’t tell me you were really naïve enough to think that was all there was too this, not for the money they were offering, you’re not that stupid.”

Marc grumbled under his breath, “Yeah well maybe I had a momentary lapse in judgment, or some shit like that, I don’t really care about just that right now, its not like I can travel back in time and slap myself for even considering accepting this offer. No, I mean damn well staying here on this damned powder keg waiting for our supplies to run out.”

“Yeah? What would you have the Sergeant do then hmmm? Offer our surrender to the Kilrany? HAH, I wouldn’t trust them not to shoot us the second we stepped out without our weapons. You know damn well as well as I, just how crazy those bastards are, for God’s sake, they slaughter their own people as readily they do foreigners.”

“Now don’t you tell be you believe that propagandist crap, I don’t trust the Kilrany either, but I would hardly call that ‘special report’ program bullshit, fair and unbiased. I just don’t want to die on this God forsaken platform for nothing.”

“You think any of us do? That’s enough, I don’t want to hear anymore, keep your damn eyes open and your mouth shut for a little while, got it? Good.”

Marc was tempting to say more, but only grumbled under his breath and looked back out over the waves.

-----

Along the Northern edge of a forest almost due North of Khlishev and West of point 332, a pair of mercenary soldiers came to a sudden stop just inside the tree line after sprinting the distance between it and a small grove of trees farther North. One went down on one knee and scanned the forest in front of them while the turned to face the way they had come and scanning it for hostile contacts.

In quick succession several more pairs followed, each adding their own eyes to the watch of their surroundings until the entire ten-man section was across the gap and into the concealment of the forest. With their bounding move complete, they slowly reformed into a slightly staggered column; while they were in a forest, it wasn’t a particularly dense one, as such it allowed them a little more spacing then they might otherwise have had in a forest at night.

The buzzing sound of a small UAV above them had been completely lost to the formation as they continued South, the shrill whistle of the wind passing over and down the hillside hid whatever they might have heard otherwise. Still intent on heading for Khlishev, they headed in a slightly South by Southeast direction, keeping the Eastern edge of the forest in sight.

To their West and roughly one kilometer to the West Northwest of Khlishev, Wassily Vrubel and his five man band of deserters made their way in a similar fashion near the Northern edge of yet another forest, this one slightly denser then that of the one the other mercenary formation moved through. They weren’t yet entirely sure where they should go, but were fairly confident they needed to be as far away from Khlishev as possible and continued on a Western course.

At the head of their small column was Richard, armed with an HK-416 just like Dmitar Cvijic who took up the rear. In the second and forth positions were Emil and Aram; as a medic, Emil had an HK-416 and wore the white armband with the red cross on his right arm, though he debated the wisdom in it, he wore it nonetheless while Aram, a section marksman, carried an M21 with a telescopic sight and folding bipod attached. Vrubel took up the center of the column with the only heavy weapon in their small band, an FN MAG, though he could see the M72A4 LAW attached to the back of Richard’s webbing.

To their North, a mere five hundred meters farther up the mountainside another section of infantry were moving slowly Eastward, eight men strong and clad in Flora pattern uniforms, they were one for the four 5th Division operational teams on Novajev. Keeping low, moving slowly and rather deliberately, they were intent on keeping a low profile as they stayed near a line of trees and dense under brush, concerned slightly at being within the Oceania operations area, though unlike the mercenary forces, their uniforms were doused in infrared suppressant during its manufacturing process.

-----

Inside one of the commandeered homes in Khlishev, the trill of a phone caught the attention of Lieutenant Josip Tyberg, the mercenary in command of the platoon in Khlishev. Using this landline he had established contact with the Eastern command structure that was currently centered in Khabarovsk and who was now contacting him.

Nearby, Sergeant Yuri Spassky listened in on Josip’s side of the conversation, which was rather uninteresting an un-informing, “Lieutenant Tyberg here, yes sir … damn … yes … I understand … will check it out sir.”

As the receiver clicked down in to place on its cradle, Tyberg turned Spassky, “They tell me that the listening posts picked up a signal that they believe is coming from our North in the mountains. They want us to check it out.”

“Wunderbar, we have just enough men to hold this town after those bastard deserters left and they want us to send out more to scour the mountainside? I’ll go get a few of the men I figure wont run off on us.”

“Don’t bother, I don’t intend to actually send anyone out. I’m not going to waste the effort here, but I do want to quietly alert everyone on the North line that we might have some visitors.”

“You … think they might be special-forces watching us?”

“Could be … but it could just as soon be those rat bastard cowards who ran off earlier trying to raise the Kilrany and surrender … the fools. Regardless, have them take a closer look along the rises.”

“Gotcha.”

With that Spassky turned and left the three-story home and stepped out through a side door in to a narrow alleyway, barely large enough to three people to stand abreast in. Flipping down the night vision goggles atop his helmet, he made his way casually through a short winding alley to come out on the North side of the town, his HK-416 partially handing by its tactical sling.

He didn’t step far out from the edge of town before he dropped down into a slit trench that served as an entrance to the rest of their defensive works. Slowly he made his way through the narrow rut in the earth till it met a camouflaged portion where it split into a T shape and he first went right, where he first came upon another mercenary armed with a HK-416 with a scope on it who sat low in the narrow trench.

“Ethan, we’ve got word we might have company up on the hill, add your eyes to the search, but keep it low key, if there is someone up there we don’t want to let them know we know they’re there.”

“Gotcha.”

Slipping past him in the cramped quarters, Spassky continued on as Ethan started to peer over the lip of the trench through his scope, using a section of brush on their camouflage to hide his actions. Coming to the end of the trench on the right after passing several more of the men, he came upon the flank of one of their BMP-2s dug deeply into the earth, the Kontrast covering and foliage added made it hard even for him to make out.

Sliding along between the hull and the earth he came up to the back of it, but not before he was challenged by another mercenary watching the BMP’s rear. Moments later he was halfway inside one of the rear hatches speaking with the vehicle’s crew, “-So that’s it, they think we may have some hostiles on the hill side, if you see something spread the word, but don’t shoot unless they’re about to fire on us.”

“Understood.”

With word spreading, he made his way back through the trench works to continue doing so with the men and armour on the West side of the trench. As he did so, the BMP’s commander began a methodical search of the heights above them with the thermal imager on his sighting system, the gunner kept his weapon stationary so as not to betray their purpose for the time being.

-----

Admiral Feofan Jawlensky sighed under his breath as he stood with his hands clasped behind his back within the bridge of his command ship, the KIN Semyonovna, one of many Poseiden class vessels now serving in the Kilrany Imperial Navy. Bloody damned Me’ei thinking they can block our strait, bloody damned Delesians launching the damned ballistic missiles in the first God damned place. He sighed slightly once more, the slow rise and fall of the ship upon the waves felt slightly relaxing for him, Why the hell did all these foreigners have to go and stick their noses in where they didn’t belong.

At age fifty-seven he was one of the oldest Kilrany naval officers still serving onboard a naval warship, though he didn’t look quite his age and was fully capable of commanding task force Kessel. Throughout his career he had distinguished himself for being direct and rather undiplomatic, traits that were appreciated by the Kilrany and had only served to propel him through the ranks at respectable pace. His plan for dealing with the Me’ei in the Zuiderzee Strait would in turn be little different.

“Admiral,” turning slightly he looked at one of the ship’s Lieutenant Commanders and current officer in charge of the bridge, Maria Myskina, “CIC reports all ships formed up and we are ready to enter the Strait.”

“Very good, inform Captain Vlassov to order the fleet forward and that I will be down there you join him shortly.”

“Yes sir.”

Time to move your asses you little bastards, or I’ll blow them off, scowling as he mused, his mind then shifted to recalling the current tactical situation in the Strait. He knew that Seventh Fleet was already in the Strait, though technically they remained in Kilrany territorial waters, the independents that had joined them aided in ensuring the Me’ei didn’t come to close while at the same time policing all the freaked out civilian merchants that had been traveling through the international portion or the passage and now found themselves seeking safe ports out of the line of fire. Poor bastards never saw this coming, heh; their companies will be pissed at the delay.

Continuing with this train of thought he moved on to Kilrany sub-surface combatants. There were only three KIN submarines directly inside the international portion of the Zuiderzee Strait, two were diesel electrics produced by KIAM; an amalgamation of the German U212 and U214 types, while the third was a modified Antey class, eight more diesel electrics were spaced out within their territorial waters, patrolling within to keep any Me’ei submarines out. The Kilrany had always made it a point to ensure others knew how defensive they were of their waters, only surface ships got a single warning when entering their waters unauthorized, foreign submarines without permission to be there were torpedoed on detection.

Both Diesel electrics were maintaining their assigned ‘patrol’ as it were, bottomed on the sea floor near the North and South entrances of the Zuiderzee Strait, from these positions they monitored traffic and awaited any signal to engage a foreign vessel. The modified Antey was similarly bottomed on the sea floor, though closer to the center of the Strait, they followed similar orders and merely awaited a signal to fire its payload of anti-ship missiles, two of which were armed with tactical nuclear warheads. There’s a very good reason there aren’t any more of our submarines in there, or moving for that matter, he smiled to himself at that thought. They all remained unaware of the passage of the Iriani submarine however as it had initially been following closely underneath a large merchant before all hell had broken loose and they bottomed their boat.

Damned Russkyans, finally his thoughts fell upon the greatest single ally the Kilrany Empire had; unlike the majority of the Kilrany, he didn’t like the Russkyans, though in truth, he didn’t like foreigners at all, this wasn’t to say he hated them however, as he merely found their presence distasteful. He also wasn’t pleased with the apparent attempt by the Russkyans to keep themselves between the Kilrany and the Me’ei, Those Asiatic bastards will learn from us who commands the Zuiderzee Strait, not the Russkyans.

Jawlensky took one last look out the forward screen towards the KIN Semyonovich, another Poseiden class sailing along in front of them before he turned and left the bridge to Lieutenant Commander Myskina. Below in the CIC, modeled like that within the Relentless to the North, was where Captain Vlassov commanded the ship from, and where the Admiral intended to command his fleet from.

The layout of task force Kessel was fairly simple with each vessel keeping a minimum of one hundred meters between the other. At the heart of the formation were the five Poseidens in a single column, around which the six Kirovs kept close. Unlike the center, the Destroyer and Frigate ring kept an even wider gap between themselves, nearly one hundred and eighty meters was the minimum so they could still maintain some freedom in movement to best use their active sonar. Directly above Kessel were three Kamovs of the AEW type providing extra early warning in case one or more of the dedicated fixed wing AEW aircraft were forced off station. These weren’t the only helicopters in the air however as the task force had a small armada of their ASW helicopters scouring the sea around them, this task was only augmented by the presence of three ASW variants of the KIAM built Bear.

As they moved out Northward at fifteen knots, approaching the Southern entrance of the Zuiderzee Strait and intent on forcing the Me’ei to back down, each ship powered up their primary surface search and air search radar arrays, as well as their active sonar, pounding the air and sea about them with active signals. Each vessel’s radar was currently operating on the same frequency and scan rate, the data from which was transmitted to a receiver onboard the Poseidens, collated together and retransmitted much like the those signals from a fixed wing AEW, nothing escaped their view, and no one could mistake their approach.

Roughly one hundred kilometers to the Southwest, Sixth fleet remained on stand bye with the three carriers from Kessel, which only bolstered the two Kuznetsovs already part of their forces. This brought their surface composition up to one Poseiden serving as the command ship, one Vengeance class fleet carrier, four Kuznetsov escort carriers, two Kirovs, twelve Destroyers of the Sovremenny and Udaloy classes and ten Neutrashimy class Frigates. Unlike Task Force Kessel, they did not intend to approach the Strait; instead they were tasked with protecting the carriers that added their own air wing to the already large Kilrany fixed wing assets in the area and to serve as rear guard, supplemented by a number of the Kilrany nuclear and diesel electric attack submarines stalking the seas around their homeland.

-----

While it was true that the North side of Volkova was barren of dense forests, it was a haven for low lying bushes and shrubs clinging to life through the rocky soil, and while the mercenaries had complained to themselves while they dug, the ground around them provided excellent cover and decent concealment with their additions. Natural overhangs and even a few caves were dug out as much as they could and now housed heavy weapon systems and even a few of their armoured vehicles with designated fire zones.

On the East of Volkova where the natural growth was thickest and the ground softer, entire armoured vehicles were dug deep into the earth and covered with Kontrast and natural foliage. Two full platoons of mercenaries made up the defenses, augmented by a logistics element and twenty-seven surviving sailors of the Novajev Navy, all figuring that an extra rifle, even in the hands of a sailor was better then none. They fully intended to make the ‘bowl’ around Volkova a cauldren for whoever might enter, and they had the means to do it. There were no hostile forces in Malyshev, but to the East and South there were anti-tank mines blacking the roads and the varying steepness of the sloops East of that small town meant that any armour had to stay on the road to approach Volkova.

While the sniper-spotter pair remained lower on the hill and North of the road East of Malyshev, up on higher ground, five meters down from the crest of a ridge overlooking both Volkova and the town to the West near the upper right quadrant of D2, Anton Nikulin made note of the Diggledom convoy as he watched their developing base through a pair of binoculars. Farther to his left was an emplaced 12.7mm, dug into the ground it had a clean line of fire on the road as it angled upwards just East of Malyshev, a slit trench cut through the earth behind them and out to Volkova’s side of the ridge, allowing them quick escape. To his right was another entrenches system, a Carl Gustav and a Javelin two meters farther to its right.

Their lines of fire allowed them to attack anyone approaching along the road, but these were not permanent fighting positions. Their intent here was harass any early scouts and force their attackers to try and take the position on foot rather then risk their vehicles, such action would lead the infantry into anti-personnel landmines while the mercenaries fell back to better positions closer to Volkova and outside any direct fire from the Diggledom.

Nikulin’s intent was slightly different however as he called in the coordinates of the Diggledom beachhead and base through a direct line to Volkova, where six eighty-two millimeter mortars scattered throughout the town in small courtyards were emplaced. From there mortars were dropped into their tubes and violently thrown up and Westward towards the Diggledom, ammunition conservation was however a problem for them, as such only eight rounds per weapon were fired.

1034
Kirov Class Heavy Missile Cruiser Abdiel
Radar Room

As the mortar shells pushed themselves out of the bowl that Volkova was in they were detected by the naval taskforce sitting off shore. The radar operator that detected them was already fully briefed on the actions that were to follow. First he hit an alarm button, alerting the troops on the beachhead that there was incoming artillery fire. Then he had to wait for the computer to go through the angles, giving a reasonably accurate picture of where the mortar tubes where, in this case, dotted around the streets and courtyards of Volkova. Then, fingers flying across the keyboard in front of him, he packaged the data before streaming it to one of the B-52’s flying nearby. As soon as the data was away he took a deep breath and began to calm down, casualty reports and possibly further fire missions would soon be coming in and he wanted to make sure that he had the tightest location for the mortar tubes as possible.

-----

B-52H Alpha–1–D
North of Novajev

Bombardier Halls quickly checked through the targeting solutions he had received, he was the squadrons quickest bombardier, his training scores seeming to push his skills from “Excellent” to “Near legendary”. Only eleven seconds after he had received the targeting coordinates he had programmed them into the computer, he carefully selected the bombs that he thought would be needed for the fire mission.

The bomb doors opened, carefully opening enough to allow twelve of the forty GBU-39 bombs stored onboard to slip out. As they dropped into the air their small DiamondBack type wings deployed, carrying them quickly towards their targets, two towards each mortar position. Due to the nature of the town each bomb had a time delay fuse, allowing the bomb to crash through the upper floors of the houses before detonating, hopefully eliminating the mortars and their crews as they hit. Due to the nature of the town the twelve bombs each had one of the newest Diggledom warheads mounted, commonly known as DIME, or dense inert metal explosive, instead of the standard blast fragmentation warhead.

It had been designed specifically to reduce collateral damage, used specifically in towns and cities to reduce the likelihood of delivering the enemy readymade, easy to fortify ruins. The lethal range of the Diggledom made warheads was widely accepted to be five metres, beyond with the micro-shrapnel had decelerated enough to no longer be lethal, it would still cause a multitude of flesh wounds, but was unlikely to cause the amputations and other injuries commonly associated with the weapons.

-----

1035
Diggledom Beachhead

The near frantic activity of the past several hours had been completely silenced, the unexpected luck of not being fired upon had allowed the Diggledom forces to begin building their own fortifications, meaning that all the troops had manufactured themselves shell scrapes, with a small trench system slowly being constructed, the mechanised infantry sections had completed their own defences, before beginning to dig in their vehicles, some being seconded to prepare the defences in and around the other units, quickly constructing walls of sandbags along the sides and the fronts of the vehicles, allowing small gaps for access to the cabs of the various vehicles. Because of the near four hour gap between the initial landings and the mortar barrage the Diggledom force were more prepared than both the Kilrany to their south, or the Delsean forces to their south east.

The relatively light barrage, a mere 48 of the 3.1kg fragmentation warheads exploding across the beachhead did relatively little damage, few fatalities occurring, but the damage it did to the equipment was much more varied, a pair of bombs destroyed the sensor suite on one of the RST-V’s completely, turning the complex electronics into so much useless scrap metal and plastic, stopping the vehicle from being over any use until they were replaced.

The fatalities occurred when one of the mortar rounds impacted directly on a shell scrape containing three members of the support company, killing all three. The best attempts of the medics could do nothing to stop their fates, two had been killed instantly and one bled out even as the medic began to check for signs of bleeding.

-----

1037
Diggledom Beachhead
Command Tent

The command tent had received no damage, the typical Diggledom technique of first sighting the tent in a depression, so little of the tent remained at ground level, before protecting the walls with dual layers of sandbags and covering the roof in a further layer of sandbags, having protected it from the shells. Inside the command staff was discussing their further plans.

“The shells came from the town to our east, place called Volkova. We responded with a series of air-launched precision weapons, but we have no indication yet of whether we managed to kill the mortar crews.” One of the naval intelligence officers said, looking towards Lieutenant Colonel Johnson.

Johnson glanced up from the map, looking towards the one naval spetznaz member who was in the tent,

“Where would you have sighted a forward artillery observer if you had to observe us from the area around Volkova?”

The man walked forwards, looking down at the map. He paused for a minute, his eyes carefully scanning the surface of the map.

“I couldn’t say exactly without seeing the ground up close and personal. A rough estimate would put the enemy observers somewhere along this ridge,” His finger traced the western most edge of the bowl, “of course, if I was doing it of my own free will and with near unlimited time I would have a series of bunkers and full trench systems manufactured, grenade sumps and emplaced weapons all carefully sited. Since the mercenaries haven’t either the time or the resources available, I believe they will probably have a fallback position with fighting positions built in case we attack, but no real defences this side of the ridge, since we can direct fire accurately onto them.”

Johnson frowned, he couldn’t afford to risk his men in an attack against an unimportant target such as an observation post, he simply didn’t have enough, but neither could he afford to leave the observation post intact, they could far too easily direct mortar fire, or if they had it, heavier artillery, onto the beachhead. He swore quietly, under his breath.

“Fine, we will have to do this the hard way. Are the heavy mortars emplaced yet?” The question was directed at Captain Chris Fields, the commander of the artillery company.

“They are all sited, there was no significant damage to my company done by the barrage, some chipped paint and a couple of cracked windscreens, but nothing that will affect our firepower. What do you want us to do?”

“I want you to fire a few barrages in return, say fifteen rounds into the front edge of each of the forested areas, our supplies that are already here should be able to support the barrage. The B-52 flight can launch a series of cluster bombs along the ridge, which will hopefully eliminate any observers that are up there. I will also need a battle plan for the assault on Volkova.” The last was directed at a pair of the intelligence staff, eliciting a pair of nods. Captain Fields nodded and left the tent, his VSV carefully and comfortably strapped to his side, the carbine version being the standard issue for all mounted troops, as was the chest rig that he was wearing, making him look like any of the other men moving, once more, around the beachhead.

-----

1045
BMD-1KShM Charlie-1-1
Artillery Company Command Vehicle

Chris looked around the cramped interior of the vehicle, locking eyes with the vehicles driver, a man by the name of Anton Deveron.

“Ready to go sir?” He asked, the two men of nearly the same age were as close to friends as you could get between officers and enlisted men, so he could recognise the look in his captains eyes, the steadying of his nerve, ready to unleash hell upon earth, possibly prompting the start of the first great battle on Novajev.

“Yes.” The reply was simple; he reached down for the communications toggle on his headset, clicking it from vehicle address to company address.

“Fire.”

As one the 120mm guns of the battery opened fire, all twenty of the vehicles pointing their barrels to the sky, flinging the heavy shells up and towards their targets.

-----

B-52H Alpha–1–D
North of Novajev

The new orders had come through, informing the entire squadron of their latest target. They had ample time to prepare, carefully choosing the sites for their bombs, each of the four bombers in the stick releasing five of their twenty CBU-103 combined effect munitions, targeted so the corridor of destruction would be along the front side of the ridge, attempting to avoid excessive damage to the town of Malyshev, but not leaving any of the ridge outside at least one of the bomblet covered areas.

OOC: Bah, crappy little post, but here it is.

Corporal Julia Romashkova cursed mentally as several rounds of 5.56x45mm from an HK-416 snapped into the ground and a tree half a meter from her position in the same trench her section had fought some mercenaries from minutes before. Zhideijev still lay to their Southeast, but they couldn’t assault into the town because of another mercenary position to the North near hill 162. While the position had been intended to fire upon anything coming down from the North on either road, the defenders had little difficulty in shifting their fire to their Southwest, though fortunately for these Kilrany Naval Infantrymen, that didn’t including their heavy machine guns.

Looking down the iron sights of her Laika, Julia squeezed off a series of rapid, aimed shots from her assault rifle towards the source of the rounds coming towards her, a mercenary firing from a second story building in Zhideijev. It was here that she was thankful of having the 7.62x39mm chambered Laika, as her rounds stood a very good chance of punching through the stone wall of the house he was using as cover, and at three hundred meters, she could still be deadly accurate. The mercenary however was not stupid and didn’t stay near the window after he ducked back around the wall; his movement towards another one on his left saved him as several of the heavy rounds punched through behind him.

She fired several more rounds into wall of the building around the window to keep the mercenary suppressed if not dead before a heavier round snapped into the earth next to her head, prompting her to curse loudly as she ducked down into the trench. A few moments later she heard the distinctive crack of an SVDK ten meters from her and their section marksman came over their radio, “Bastard marksman’s down.”

She popped back up over the rim of the slit trench to renew her fire on Zhideijev just in time to witness a terrific scene barely half a kilometer to their Northeast. The ground shook as the one hundred and fifty-two millimeter naval artillery rounds came crashing down to earth on hill 162, blanketing the area in pillars of flame, dusts, smoke and shrapnel, rending the earth around and upon the mercenary defensive position.

To her right and left she heard the rumble of heavy engines as a platoon of Zulus came up supported by a half dozen of their BMP-3s and stopped near their position. Their cannons roared, unleashing their own HE-F rounds upon the town to their front, while the BMP-3s followed suit, adding their thirty-millimeter cannons to the fray.

A Javelin lashed out from somewhere inside the town beyond Julia’s line of sight towards one of the Russkyan designed tanks, but unlike the first wave of Zulus, these ones hadn’t suffered from a clerical error and received bed-sheets instead; much to the frustration of the platoon’s commander, and had the KIAM variation of Kontrast on over their ERA plating. Unable to lock on to an IR signature the missile flew past the intended target before striking the ground dangerously close to one of the lighter armoured vehicles and another infantry section coming up from the beachhead.

“Armour’s going to cover us, up and move out!”

The order from their section Sergeant was carried out without delay as Romashkova pulled herself up out of the trench and sprinted forwards towards the town. Around her she could hear the coaxial machine guns firing from the main battle tanks and infantry fighting vehicles while two other infantry sections lay down their own base of fire to suppress mercenary positions in support of her section’s advance.

-----

At the Southern landing zone, the Kilrany advance was beginning to gain momentum once more as their armoured vehicles started getting clear of the beaches and the town of Kislovodsk was declared clear of mercenary forces. However the advance had not been without incident or losses, as many of the Kilrany Naval Infantrymen had discovered that while the mercenaries had withdrawn from the town, they had laid numerous anti-personnel mines and grenades in booby-traps, leaving two soldiers dead, four wounded and three in critical condition.

The need to CASVAC the three critically wounded soldiers immediately outweighed the risk of enemy anti-aircraft weapons and a helicopter was tasked to slip in. To that end, Semyon Bering guided hid KIAM-24 in towards the South of Kislovodsk at barely higher then wave top altitude and under fifty kilometers an hour. On his particular model of KIAM’s take on the Mi-24 Hind, it retained the chin mounted, traversable 12.7mm rotary cannon and was armed with four, eighty millimeter rocket pods on the inner wing pylons, while the wingtip pylons each carried eight 9K121 ATGMs in the same pattern seen on the Mi-28. It also included a pair of PKM general-purpose machine guns mounted to the cabin doors, which were manned by the aircraft’s flight crew.

Looking out the armoured cockpit, he carefully slowed his assault helicopter’s forward speed as he approached a suitable landing position, while at the same time he lowered his landing gear, seated behind him, his WSO kept a close eye on his threat boards. As he touched down with expect precision, he glanced off to the Northwest where he could easily make out the large Novajev port, already infantry and armour were moving forward into it to secure the important facility.

-----

OOC: Sorry Diggledom for the short response to your actions, but as we discussed on MSN, nothing special is coming to mind for me right now and I want to say something at least to respond to what happened.

In Volkova, the mercenaries manning the small eighty-two millimeter mortars were taken completely by surprise when the miniature laser guided bombs came smashing down onto the small town from high above. But with such small warheads trying to hit such equally small targets from information off of an imprecise system, only one of the six mortars took the direct hit necessary to destroy it and kill the men manning it.

While this counter-attack did nothing to seriously hamper the mercenary soldiers’ morale, it did dissuade them from firing any more mortar rounds for the time being.

The mercenaries up on the ridge were far less fortunate however as the massive cluster bombe strike ripped its way Southward along the mountainside, tearing apart trees and bushes that stood in its way. The handful of mercenaries on one of the ridges that ran around the ‘bowl’ of Volkova had no where to hide from the passage of this wave of destruction, their slit trenches worked wonders against direct and most indirect fire, but the uncountable small bomblets found their way in.

Only Nikulin and one other mercenary survived the bombardment, having sheltered as deeply as they could in their slit trenches, there had been enough of a ledge to hide under to avoid their deaths, in Nikulin’s case, he just got damned lucky.

Farther down the hill, Orest Falk cursed loudly as some of the mortar rounds from the Diggledom artillery positions tore into the grove he and his spotter currently were hidden in. If it hadn’t been for the undulating terrain of the mountain that made up the Northern end of Novajev, he and Simon would not have been able to find a depression to shield them from the incoming rounds.

“Oh these bastards are going to fucking die, you hear me Simon? I don’t fucking care how hard it is, I will take at least one of these pricks with me before I die.”

Despite the immediately life threatening danger they had been in, Simon chuckled at the anger so clearly evident in Orest’s voice.

----

Karl Grek grunted slightly as he and two of his fellow sailors carefully set the two meter long, half meter wide side scanning sonar device down onto the deck of the KIN Ratushinskaya, one of two Sovremenny class Destroyers in task force Kessel to carry the device. It was not a standard piece of equipment carried on Kilrany naval warships as it had limited tactical use, but in this case it was to be used to trail behind both Destroyers to scan the floor of the Zuiderzee Strait, and comparing that information to their extensive charts of the Strait, weed out any submarines trying to hide out on the sea floor. An added bonus was that since the Sovremenny’s own sonar was located under the ship’s keel, neither would interfere with each other.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Karl glanced towards the twin barrled AK-130 mount on the stern end of the Sovremenny before he reached up to take hold of the cable he would attach to the sonar, which was in turn attached to a small crane that had been retrofitted to the Destroyer. With the help of his comrades he then attached the command cable and ensure it was secured before taking the cranes controls and raising the sonar up over the stern quarter of the ship and lowering it down into the water. Continuing to give it slack, the device sunk into the water further behind the Destroyer until it had reached its ideal length given the depth of the water and he released the controls.

Farther forward in the ship, likely in CIC he figured, someone would activate one of their consoles and begin to monitor the feed coming from the side scan sonar device, the high resolution images giving them a clean look at anything on the sea floor. With their task complete, they went back forward to return to their other duties, meanwhile the task force continued on at fifteen knots Northward into the mouth of the Strait.