NationStates Jolt Archive

RIRA (Rhodes Island Republican Army)
Background: Rhodes Island is the largest island of the NTC, but after International War of the Genocide the island has broken off ties with the NTC. It recently claimed autonomy.
In 2005 Fianna Gael (Fee'aana Gwail) Soldiers of the Irish was formed as an opposition to the United Puritan Party. The UPP had been in power since the founding of the country almost 400 years ago. The RIRA was formed as the military wing of Fianna Gael in 2007, as a response to the attempted genocide and the subsequent war. Fianna Gael was more or less forced by Supreme Elect Standish to relocate to Rhodes Island. Since the majority of the support for Fianna Gael was on the island thee was no demographic change brought about by the move.
Current: On Easter Monday they declared their independence and RIRA formally took over the island. They were armed with the new AVIR assault weapons manufactured by DDI and SPMC (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=550850), and they easily overwhelmed the NTC forces on the island. They have recently sent out feelers for heavier weapons and even vehicles to aide their campaign.


Fianna Gael
Statement of Purpose: To create a Catholic state that will provide fair representation to all Catholics in politics, housing, education, and the work force.

Fianna Gael Hierarchy:
Máel Sechnaill mac Máele Ruanaid: Provisional Taoiseach
Dubhaltach MacFhirbhisigh: Provisional Tánaiste
Toirdhealbhach Ó Cearbhalláin: Provisional Oireacht
Lorcán Ua Tuathail: Provisional Oireacht

RIRA
Statement of Purpose: To fight without pause or relent until the whole of the Catholic community is free from the oppression that has dominated it for the last 400 years.

RIRA Hierarchy:
Mícheál Seán Ó Coileáin: Over-General
Cathal Ó Hainbhthin: Chief of Logistics
Diarmuid Mac Síomóin: Chief of Communications
Eoin Ó Cathasaigh: Chief of Engineering

The dewy morning air clung to his balaclava like a shroud. The soldier walking a few meters away was completely oblivious that his fate had been sealed. Éamonn leveled the AVIR and took a deep breath. Half-way through he stopped and a crack pierced the silence. The soldier fell to the ground, a gaping hole where his throat had been moments before. There wasn't even time for the poor bastard to choke on his own blood Éamonn thought. The sputtering if a vehicle trying to start over the ridge gave Éamonn his cue go vacate the area. He knew that the truck wouldn't start, in fact in a few minutes the truck would explode. He left the roadside and melted back into the tree line.
Scenes like this were taking place all over Rhodes Island. The RIRA were hard at work. Soldiers were shot or knifed. It was a totally unexpected move. The police headquarters in Divine Providence and Smithfield had been burned out and blown up. The Coast Patrol barracks had been hit by petrol bombs and a few boats were sunk.
By the second day the NTC government had begun to send ships to Jesuton to pick up anyone who could fit on the boats, especially the army and civil servants. Local people went also helped out some paddling over in canoes or rowing over in row boats.
By 7:30 pm on the third day the island was entirely in the hands of the RIRA. Fianna Gael had put out a statement saying that any attempt to invade the island would be seen as an attempt to violate human rights and continue the oppression. Supreme Elect Mason gave a brief statement, condemning the act but he did not promise military action. He was dismissive at the idea, and said he was in meetings with his advisers on the solution to the problem.

Official Communique: Fianna Gael
The inevitable war against our oppressors has begun, and there is no end until the end of oppression! Let it be know to all nations of the world that the Catholic people of the NTC will be free or they will perish in pursuit of freedom! Let no nation stand in the way of the righteousness of the revolution at hand!
All support of Fianna Gael has been thrown behind the brave soldiers of the RIRA and all financial aide can be wired to Fianna Gael. Any Catholic or freedom fighter is welcome in this war against the oppressive regime of the Puritan overlords!
For Freedom's Cause!
Máel Sechnaill mac Máele Ruanaid: Provisional Taoiseach

Official Communique: TNTC
Despite the rumors of civil strife on Rhodes Island let it be known to all governments that the situation is under control and there is no need for alarm.
Message from the Department of the Minister of Information: Elect Charles Winfred

A recent report from the Minister of Defense, Elect Marshal Stephen Greene, to Minister of Information, Elect Charles Winfred, has been intercepted and leaked to the media. It mentions that the RIRA have purchased and are armed with 20,500 AVIRs purchased straight from DDI and SPMC. It also points out the there has been an order for 10 LV-3 Landing Craft Air Cushions, 4 PC-1 Cyclones, 2 RQ-2 Pioneers, 4 UH-60 Black Hawks, 2 AH-1 Super Cobras, 10 SR-2 British L96A1s from DMG Military Industries. The order is intended to be delivered in the next 5 months. While neither ministry has proposed any action, the presence of troops has increased in the Narragansett Bay area. One question that has been left unanswered until now is, where did all the money come from to purchase these arms?

Official Communique: TNTC
The situation in the Rhodes Island area is under control, and the dissidents have been dealt with. The status quo is now in effect and the peace we so enjoy can continue.
Message from the Department of the Minister of Information: Elect Charles Winfred

Captain Kian Klanhi was a mercenary. A man who fought for money, for whatever side would pay him. So far, it had made him rich, with enough money in the bank now to ensure him a luxurious early retirement, hidden deep below ground in an offshore bank account. But he always needed the money to run his airship, and to pay his crew.

His craft was a custom-made Aero-Freighter, of the Liberty line of mass-produced airships. As such, it was cheap as dirt to replace parts, to modify extensively and to repair after encounters. And modified it had been. The main cargo bay was modified to house missiles, with 8 "Splinter" Ultra-Long Range SAMs linked up to a fair-sized onboard RADAR unit. More deterrants to any enemy attack lurked amongst the sides of the payload bay in the form of 4 Point-defence 35mm Autocannons modified for automated shooting of aircraft as well as inbound missiles, neatly welded metal cells holding batteries of ASMs and SAMs and a small bomb-cum-supply bay.

Overall, this 550 metre long craft had a maximum payload of 1800 tonnes, which it had filled earnestly with weaponry, supplies and anti-boarding equipment. Cutting a swath through the clouds with its grey-blue dyed skin of AeroFilm, all it's crew needed was someone to fight with. Their eyes were on the feisty rebel forces of Rira, a client who would likely as not provide them with a good-sized sum of money and an enemy who would be easy prey. If the island had been taken by the rebels, the weaponry aboard the airship would ensure that only the most foolish of governments approached Rira, while the rebels built up a defence. Then, with a decent amount of long-range weapons, their job would be done and they could move on.

The Captain cleared his throat, before he began to speak through the radio channel he knew would be monitered by the NTC authorities. Reckless, yes, but he didn't have much other way of advertising his service.

"Greetings. I am the head of Captain Klanhi, the head of Klanhi Sky Defence Services, floating 100km north of Rira. I guess you are wondering currently what the hell is making such an enourmous RADAR signature, but don't hurry me with questions. Basically, to get straight to business, I can provide you with fire power your revolutionary faction couldn't begin to comprehend, in exchange for a fair price. Now, I was thinking about starting at about
$250 000 a day. To give you an idea of what you're getting for that price, let's just say that we could flatten that entire island of yours. And I know the government might resort to that, so make up your minds.
I'll give you 30 minutes to answer us, before we enquire as to the necessity of our services with the government."

He flicked off the communication channel, and began to adjust the main flaps along the length of the airship, using them to amplify the tailwaind behind them, and steady the airship's course. He looked up from the glass cockpit he was strapped into to the rest of the control crew in the gondola, and yelled over to the electronic warfare controller:
"What's the radio chatter like over there?"
"We're out of range at the moment. Give me three minutes, and we'll probably be back in range." The muscular man swung round in his seat, and looked down through his blonde hair out the cockpit glass and into the cloudscape around them. Not that the captain was using his view to guide him: the RADAR console and array of instruments told him all he needed to know.

"Any chance of getting some booze when we get to this island?"
"We won't be landing: I doubt an island like that will be able to service us. These nations can sometimes be so closed in their views on travel and war."
The person replying was a young blonde women dressed in warm clothing, sipping a coffee from the tiny ship-borne galley. She was the weapons system controller, the one who called the shots literally when attacking. Her console was the largest of the systems controllers, almost as large as the Captain's, detailing all the systems and all the enemy targets. Two keyboards allowed for the sheer volume of input needed for the missiles to be selected, targeted, guided and detonated. She sat opposite the Defence controller, nearer the rear of the bridge.

"Go get a red bull from the fridge: you'll be needing it if we're straight in on the action."
"Fair does."

The radio crackled as a pirated radio signal became clear. "Captain Klanhi, welcome! We have made provisions for you to land on the plain outside of Warwick. There will be a red signal flare in a few minutes to let you know where the field is. We will send a delegation to greet you and your crew. Again, welcome good comrades."

TNTC Intelligence Synthesis Station Fort Rehoboth
The center was alive. With the rebels in control of the island and the government not taking any action, the intelligence was being held to new standards. "Sir." the corporal came to a halt. "What have you got?" the brigadier general responded. The corporal handed a piece of paper to the brigadier.
Intelligence Brief:
RIRA insurgents have been known to have connections with a large catholic government.
RIRA insurgents have been known to have received training and the money to buy weapons from said government.
RIRA insurgents have been known to have been smuggled to said government for training.

"Thankyou. Ready to receive further instructions for landing at any time."

He moved the controls to rotate the airship about to the estimated angles of the field inbound. Now only 20km from the island, with the amount of time in between their last communique and the reply from the Rirans allowing for a large distance to be covered over that time, they were already beginning to drop out of the sky towards the ground.
The camoflauged envelope dropped from the frothy cloud strata followed by wisps of cloud, as the Captain shifted gas from the lifting cells into the stroage cylinders. Ahead of him, there was the unmistakeable shape of an island coming into view, jutting out of the sea. And there, in the distance, was a bright red flare, hovering over a wide open field. This time venting helium and increasing the air mix in the cells, the airship began to drop even faster down towards the ground below.

Minutes later, the airship was deaccelerating rapidly, the large sails jutting from either side angled to brake the airship as smoothly as possible while keeping it at the right angle for touchdown.
"Brace for impact: I have a nasty suspiscion that these guys don't have cable restraints to bring us to rest in this wind."

As the coud of red smoke drifted into the air. From the east of the island an airship came into view. The cloud cover was minimal, but the wind was quickly picking up. As the airship began to descend the four dump trucks that had been commandeered and filled with stones where driven to the four corners of the field. Cable was lead out of their rear winches. They had been fitted with grappling hooks as their regular hooks wouldn't fit with the airship. As the hooks were fastened to anything that looked stable enough the final cord was attached to a k-bar loop in a cement slab that had been put in the center of the field. The ten man contingent finished their work and came to form a line at attention as General Diarmuid Mac Síomóin stepped forward to greet their guests. "Good afternoon Captain Klanhi. I am General Mac Síomóin of the Rhodes Island Republican Army. Céad mile fáilte go Rhodes Island. Please come, tp make your men comfortable we have commandeered the local police station. There they will be most comfortable and safe. Is there anything they require while you and I discuss these arrangements?"

"Well, I have to hand it to them." The Captain slowly drew in the sails along the airship, angling them to make sure that they didn't catch the wind, until the CFRP beams hanging the sheets of transparent AeroSail film were firm against the sides of the airship, flickering slightly in the wind against the Kapton plastic holding them rigid. The two engineers slid back down into the gondola, having checked that the airship was secure and no damage had been done on their landing.
The underside doors of the airship gondola opened, two ladders built into the sides of the CFRP/Titanium panels. The Captain lept down, followed by the rest of his crew, wearing his dress coat. Either shoulder prominantly displayed his rank of Aero-Taskforce Commander, a black tabbard with three golden stripes. He had kept the rank from when he had been in the military, finding it useful when he needed to impress. As it was though, he was always referred to as Captain, being the head of the ship.

He walked out with his roused Co-pilot beside him, both dressed in dress uniforms, trailing the rest of his crew in their normal DPM operating kit. The two engineers hung back at the ship, both holding AF-07 assault rifles with 100-round drum magazines. The rest of his 3 system controllers were also armed, though with much less obvious weapons: AFMP-2 machine-pistols were just visible on their belts, and while adding security added to the overall look of the outfit. They marched up to the General and his staff, the two at the front saluting stiffly in the Alfegan style, before shaking hands.

"Thankyou very much for your hospitality. We will be needed fuel: by that, we mean Hydrogen gas for the airship interior and Helium for the lifting gas. The two men staying with the airship will assist your ground crew with that matter and instruct them as to the quantities of gas we will need. We will also request aerial defence in the vicinity to stop any attacks against the airship while we are absent."
The Captain followed with the men towards the side of the field, towards vehicles.
"Thankyou for receiving us on such short notice, on an ill-equipped station. But ineviatably, to business."

"To be honest captain the fuel might present us with a problem. I will try to get some men to smuggle some over from the mainland, but there are no guarantees." The two men walked towards a convoy of 4 Land Rover Defenders. "We have complete supremacy of the island, but of the island, on land sea and air so air defense should not be a problem. I will let you know as soon as we get the fuel situation scoped out as to whether or not we can re-supply you. If we cannot accommodate you then I am sincerely sorry." The two men got into the lead Defender, one of the RIRA men closed the door behind them. "I hope you don't mind the guard that we will leave with your men." The General indicated to the 10 RIRA men out the window. "It is for your own protection, although I am sure your men are well prepared to defend themselves. The locals can be a bit volatile towards foreigners, it would be better for PR if my men were the ones in confrontation with the locals and not yours." The engine purred to life as the driver started up the truck and began to pull out. The co-pilot and the engineers were ushered towards the second Defender.

"So, give me the low down on what's been going on here? I know that you've risen up against the current regime here and rather rapidly taken over this island. However, I am guessing that you may have an angry response from NTC to deal with."

He sat with the General, looking out of the window at the rest of the island. Not much damage, it appeared: a very rapid or very peaceful revolution. Of course, that would not last for long likely. And that was where he excelled in his business.

"Well as I am sure you are aware there was a civil war here awhile back. The Puritan majority tried to kill everyone else. Supreme Elect Standish and an international task force forced the dissidents to cease the reign of terror and murder. All of the Catholics fled here, and since there was already a Catholic majority on the island it became even more staunchly entrenched. A few highly trained, Catholic, foreign units were left on the island and they set up a cell training us and becoming part of our community. I unfortunately cannot disclose from where they came, but needless to say they are helping us immensely. Their government has supplied us with the funding to arm ourselves adequately and soon we shall have a vast range of military options as we have ordered a large number of vehicles. The rebellion went off without a hitch as the TNTC forces were sparse and the police were loyal to us. The TNTC has been reorganizing its military into smaller more elite units, but they have only realized the smaller aspect. The few who have received the rigorous training are all on the main land, so the few troops here were just run of the mill soldiers. It was a pity that they had to die, but the people of the island have spoken, and they demanded the island be rid of the TNTC presence. The police barracks in the big cities were burned or blown up to make it look like the police were against us, but the reality could not be farther from the truth. Thus far, we have complete control of the island, but as you said it is only a matter of time until TNTC responds. So far they have been eerily quiet. We think they are massing for an invasion, or they might be trying to ignore us. Ever since Mason was elected Supreme Elect the government has become very liberal, so they might hope that they can sweep us under the rug. Regardless, once we receive the equipment we purchased from DMG Military Industries we will have the capabilities to cross the bay and invade the mainland."

"I see. So you plan to invade the mainland? I would not think that the equipment you are purchasing would be able to face a much larger force, unless you have an ace up your sleeve. I hope we can contribute towards that victory you have planned... until then, it is a matter of defence from any attacks. They will know of our little arrangement now, but I severely doubt they know how to fight an airship. And one that likes like a civilian one until it goes aggressive.

If you are buying such items from DMG, then I reckon that you must have enough money to hire our outfit for the duration of this conflict. What were you reckoning on paying us per day to fight for you?"

"We sent a formal request to our financial backer as to your offer, and as soon as we hear back from them, we will offer you a price. Until then please let us offer you the run of the place. Make yourselves at home and enjoy yourselves." The convoy arrived outside of a police compound that looked more like a prison then a police station. Huge blast-doors opened and the trucks drove inside. As the last truck cleared the doors they started to close. The armed guards patrolling the walls looked down at the new faces as they all got out. "Sorry Captain but they will be a bit suspicious until they get used to your faces." The barracks were alive with excitement. Men and women wearing an array of uniforms ran around in the controlled chaos. Video screens showed the local streets and still overs were used in a number of simultaneous video conferences. As the Alfegan men were lead through to their sleeping chambers the noise and mayhem were blocked by another blast-door. The fluorescent lights buzzed above them, and the hall smelled of fresh paint. Through another blast-door and into the officers chambers. Captain your men will stay here, they are free to leave at anytime and explore the town and coutnryside. You will be staying in my accommodations here. Note that while there is free passage here, after sunset you will be searched. This is for the protection of our officers. If you should like to carry your side arms that will be permissible, but please register them with the front gate. Your larger weapons will be checked at the gate and you may recover them when you venture out. Is there anything else I can get you gentlement?"

(OOC: Remember the two engineers stayed behind to keep the airship running)

"Thankyou very much. If possible, could you get me detailed weather projections for the next 2 weeks, and a map of the area with your defence marked on, so that we may begin to plot our flights as soon as we are accepted by your financial backer."
They really did have an operation here. He dropped off his dress coat, revealing the FS05 shirt he was wearing underneath, and pulled on a DPM smock to keep himself warm. The pockets jangled with little odds-and-ends, which would easily mark him out as an airship Captain: little bits of AeroFilm mixed with Sky bolts and caffine pills, while the underside of his smock was hand-insulated with spare sheets of blue Thinsulate insulation from the interior of the airship.
He lay back, enjoying the rest. His co-pilot had already gone back to sleep, operating a completely different sleep pattern to him to control while he slept, yet still being able to survive on a few hours sleep a day without any problem. He hadn't even taken off his SF05 boots, lumps of dried mud clinging to their soles. If one looked closely though, his right hand was resting right next to his AP-1 service pistol and his left next to a vicious knife. Something that had saved his neck many a time. He drew out a small geometry tin from a pocket, setting up the pair of compasses to plot his route on the map relative to the weather.

OOC: I am sure the engineers are listening to the radio frequencies, so I am going to steal them from you for this post.

IC: The radio crackled to life for the first time since they had recieved communication from the RIRA earlier that day. "Unidentified airship at rest outside of Warwick, this is TNTC Airforce, please identify and indicate intention, over."

(In the police barracks)
The radio transmission was the first time TNTC had tried to make contact with anyone on Rhodes Island since the rebellion. All activity stopped. The people put down their phones and hushed each other. "I repeat, unidentified airship at rest outside of Warwick, this is TNTC Airforce, please identify and indicate intention. You are in violation of TNTC airspace." After a long pause General Mac Síomóin tapped a young officer ont eh shoulder and indicated towards the bed chambers where the Alfegans were. The young women ran down the corridor pushing through the blast-doors. When she reached the Alfegans she quickly explained the situation and added, "I don't know if General Mac Síomóin has told you this, but we have no anti-aircraft capabilities. They are due in a few weeks time." With that the party stormed out of the room and into the command post. "Captain I have called your men to begin preparations to get your airship in the air. How long do you estimate it will take to get off the ground and into a defensive posture?"

"We have enough fuel and lifting gas, and enough ballast to drop: once we get there, only minutes. But you'll have to get us back there ASAP!" Any airship Captain knew that when an airhsip was on the ground moored, it was a sitting duck. If it was attacked from above, anyone knew they were in the shit: lifting gas rises upwards. Plus the RADAR was of limited range.

The airship lay straining at its moorings as the crew arrived. The engineers sprinted across the outer gantries, small explosive charges placed on the rope all round as they prepared for an emergancy takeoff. Once the crew were inside, the doors sealed tightly, the engineers braced themselves on whatever they could find in the airship interior. Underneath there was a loud crash as two airshipping crates filled with electronic goods were dropped from the cargo bay, the only ballast the Captain ever used. As the systems flickered into life, the Captain and his crew strapped themselves in. Then, with the helium cells all at correct pressure and the systems checked, the engineers hit the detonator button.

A similtaneously crack echoed around the field as the cables were snapped by the explosions. The airship, now unrestrained, rocketed upwards like... a released balloon. It gradually slowed as it reached 3200 metres, alarms sounding at the G-force change. Level in the air, the weapons systems began to arm. The RADAR screen was empty for now, but when someone came...
"Bring 'em on!"

"Air Controller1, this is Flight 33 Hawkeye. Unidentified airship, has lifted and is arming its weapons systems, request immediate engage/disengage order." The mask was tight on the pilots face, as he felt the sweat pool around his nose. "Flight 33 Hawkeye, Air Controller 1, do not engage, repeat do not engage. We need to know if those are the smugglers and who they work for."
"I copy Air Controller 1, will not engage. I'll try to keep them busy."
"Copy 33 Haweye, but remain at least 1km away from the airship."
"Affirmative, 1 klick distance. Hawkeye out."
"Air Controller 1 out."

The jet thundered across the bay and over the island. Pilot Winterferd had been assured the rebels had no anti-aircraft capabilities, so he was not worried about anything expecting this air ship. He wondered to himself, who the hell still rides around in balloons? Why not a nice jet? He toggled his weapon systems off and began to cruise across the island. Giving the satellites time to hone in on the airship and other strategic points around Warwik. To his left, now, he could clearly see the airship, hovering in the air. He kept a 1.5km distance, naively thinking it would give him enough maneuvering space if a missile was fired.

"Bastard! He's got too close now! Scare him off a bit."

The airship targeting systems easily locked onto the circling aircraft, false sides of the cargo gondola opening to reveal the 4 PD autocannons, now armed for a shoot-out at the circling aircraft.

"This is Captain Kian Klanhi of Klanhi Sky Defence Systems: as we are aware, this territory we are currently above is under the government of the organissation known as RIRA. We kindly request that your aircraft currently circling around us break off and bugger off, before we destroy it. And if the satellite in orbit above us is detected as viewing us, we will shoot it out of the sky.

Thankyou for your understanding in this."

He nodded, and a pair of the autocannons fired up, a path of HE 35mm autocannon rounds finding themselves flying through the air in a direct intercept path of the enemy aircraft. And not moving rapidly, the airship could find it very easy to lock onto a moving target. As said before, no expense had been spared on this craft.

"Oops, my Weapons Systems Control officer has a rather hyperactive trigger finger. Not to worry though: heed that as your warning. We remind you that we are able to monitor your airfields from here, so as soon as you even launch a fighter in this direction, there will be missiles greeting it. So heed this warning. Klanhi out."

Across the airship, a network of cables powered up, activated the Hailstorm system. At the same time, the electronic warfare systems came online. Not fully actigve, but active enough to be ready to jump in, yet not be picked up by radiation-seeker missiles. The two engineers pulled out of the supply crates cable guns and extra spools of aerofilm, ready to repair any damage as soon as it came. Let the come.

OOC:Sorry, should have clarified, Fianna Gael is the political entity on Rhodes Island, the RIRA is their military wing, and the people are Rhodes Islanders.

IC: Flight 33 Hawkeye:
"Jesus!" Winterferd screamed as the shells zipped by his canopy. "Air Controller 1, this is Flight 33 Hawkeye, I am receiving fire from the airship, repeat, I am taking fire."
"Affirmative 33 Hawkeye, we saw it on the satellite feed. Do not return fire."
"Affirmative, will not return fire, did you receive the transmission they just sent."
"Affirmative, return to base for a debrief, we've pulled in some useful info. Air Controller 1 out."
"Flight 33 Hawkeye, out." Winterferd breathed a sigh of relief. I gave the air ship the finger and headed home. It was a juvenile gesture but he was not thinking at a mature level. His first combat mission was the scariest thing in his life, and he was hoping it would be a long time until he had to repeat the experience.

Warwik Police Barracks:
"Captain this is General Mac Síomóin, give me a sitrep."

"He's leaving at least. And we detected a military satellite feed."
"Shoot the satellite down. And give the retreating plane something to help it on its way."

The weapons controller grinned: she knew what he meant. She scrolled through a virtual map of the missiles installed onboard, and selected a SkySinger missile, armed with a Continuous Rod warhead. She flicked it to IR homing, with Radiation Homing as secondary, before flicking the fire switch. In the converted cargo bay, part of the side dropped open to release an angry missile, spat out by a primary stage before igniting proper and heading towards the retreating aircraft.

"Please note about that second point on the satellite.
Lets play a little game, and here are the rules: you spy on us with a satellite, or send planes to greet us, then we take something from you important."

A second roar, this time much louder and longer. A Ceres Surface-Orbit missile had just been deployed, streaking upwards into the heavens towards a spy satellite in LEO.

"As it is, you broke both the rules, so we are taking two things. One is that plane, the other is the satellite. We predict about 3 minutes more time from your satellite before it dies, so make use of that time very, very well."

Beep, beep, beep the lock-on signal blared in his ears. "Shit!" Pulling the joy stick towards himself the plane climbed sharply. The sound got quicker and more intense. He throttled up and took the jet into a dive. The green countryside of Rhodes Island's midlands screamed towards him. He pressed the ejector button as the beeping became a continuous whine. In a whoosh of air he was free. As his parachute opened the shock wave of the exploding plane pushed him into the parachute cord. He struggled to get himself untangled as he slowly descended towards the earth.

Space: The satellite's thrusters began to burn. They were meant to keep it in orbit, but now they needed to provide the opposite function. The top thruster burst and the little metal super-spy began to head towards the planet. A few minor adjustments from the four side thrusters put the satellite in the right path for re-entry. Now it was a waiting game. Was the incoming missile smart enough to track the movements? The operator in Fort Wamessett hoped not. If it was, then he would be out of a job. As the missile broke the O-Zone mark the space around the operators desk began to get crowded with curious officers. In the back a few wampums were exchanged as people bet on whether the satellite would survive.

(OOC: Do you mind a slight bit of that awful art that is Godmod?)

"We've got them moving ever so slightly... not that far, but I think we can allow for triangulation of the co-ordinates from a Rira station as well as us and New Alfegos to get an accurate position."

The computer began calcuating the change in orbit: it gave up, and sent the request back to the supercomputer back in New Alfegos. Almost instantly, the reply came back, the signals relayed via satellite. The virtual map showed the satellite's path, with the missile arching up towards it. Would it make it?

___________________________

There was a near silent hiss as the first stage of the rocket was ejected, the second one firing up to propel and guide the rocket on its final course. Unitl it got close enough, it was relying on ground signals to guide it. Ones that changed rapidly. It arched at angles, the co-ordinates provided changing as the satellite was detected to move. But soon, it was only a few kilometres away. At orbital velocity, the lack of warhead on this missile amde no difference: the block of lead it had as a payload would make mincemeat of an object when it hit it at an equivalent speed of 15km/s. The signal cut out as it smashed through the satellite, showering pieces of CFRP, Aluminium and Mylar film through out. The pieces soon encountered the atmospheric drag at this level, and began to sink, burning up as the plummeted to provide a beautiful spectacle to any dark areas. The remains of the missile unit continued in orbit, slowly arching down until they as well entered the atmosphere, angled so that it would not cause damage to any place below.

__________________________________

"New True Cross officials: I know that you saw that. You are now temporarily blinded in the area, and know that we have a lot more missiles from where those came from. I am very apologetic to the pilot of the aircraft we shot down, and hope you provided an ejector seat for him to use. If not, we will make sure his family receive a bunch of flowers from us.

I know it would be unreasonable for you to back down, beacuse you know that you can destroy us. A single airship against an entire nation? I might laugh, if only knew not the cost. For you sitting in your high offices will have heart-attacks when you find out the cost. This airship and the crew cost in the range of 10s of millions. Now you, however, will need to spend a lot more. How much did that satellite cost, for a start? Must have been millions. So a start there then. How much more will you have to waste? As I have said before, bring it on. See how much in the way of costs you incur before you destroy us."

TNTC's response went unnoticed. After all rubber-dingies have no radar signature, both because they are at water level and because they are made of..........rubber. The Divine Hospices (Elite Spec Ops, sans redundancy)drove there boats until they were five hundred feet off shore. The little fishing village of Ballygowan seemed deserted as the divers slipped into the water. The remaining Hospices drove the empty boats back to Fort Sakonnet. As the divers neared the shoreline they navigated to the mouth of a river. They swam up the river until it emptied out into Sashamatt Pond. At the bottom of the pond the men found a boulder. They tied a rope around the boulder and took off all of their diving gear and attached it to the rope. They kept their respirators on as the squad leader swam to the surface to see if the coast was clear. It seemed to be as he gave the place a good sweep. He took a deep breath and dove back down, signaling his squadies to bring the equipment.

"So, it seems no response for now. Cool the systems for a bit." He turned back to the controls, cutting down the power output from the engines until they stopped. He then cut off the hydrogen to the engines, to stop any accidents, before purging the engines of Hydrogen. They wouldn't be needed for a while, that was for sure.

He stood up as his awakened co-pilot slid down the ladder to join him, sitting at the second control bank along with the same equipmet as he had. Duplicate circuits meant for half the risk of failure. And he had brought along two cans of Red Bull, chilled by being hung outside the control gondola on the external gantries, alongside that rarity of drink that was the ship-borne beer stash that always disappeared whenever they landed at an international airport to the smuggler's chest. Even though they were official mercenaries, they still could be searched for drugs and booze, which earnt them a healthy wad of money.

He snapped open the ring-pull and let the sugary fluid swill in his mouth, tasebuds exploded in ecstasy. Along with it came the surge of blood that forced his eyelids open, along with a kick to the back of the head. Just what he needed to stay awake.
"I'll be here for the next hour: if they don't make a move, then I'll take 2 hours out. And we aren't landing for anyone for the moment: I don't trust their ground defence capability, nor do I trust their coastal defences: likely as not, an entire fleet will cruise up to the coastline and we'll be the first to know about it, even though we don't have a main RADAR like them."
"Right you are sir."
He flicked on a complicated series of switches and dials on his right, which were only the controls for the climate system. Up at these heights, it was always freezing regardless of their insulation, and always too dry. Humidifiers were an absolute gem of a find for him, and he now had one installed on every airship in Klanhi Sky Defence Systems. And in his office. And even in his private airyaucht. They stopped his skin feeling so so dray after nights of little sleep.

"Captain we finally have a response from our financial backer, if you wouldn't mind I should like to discuss it with you...in person."

Sashamatt Pond a few miles south of Wachemsett
The Divine Hospices emerged from the murky water and slipped into the wooded north side of the waterfront. The sun was beginning to set and the shadows worked with them. They ripped open the vacuum-sealed plastic bags that contained their guns and the civilian clothes they were to wear. A few kilometers in the squad reached the Warwik-Wachemsett Road. This was the section of the I-44, the main road that connected the bigger towns on Rhodes Island, between the afore mentioned towns. The marksman and his spotter set up twenty meters in the tree line. The remainder of fire team A set up their left flank and fire team B their right. As the sun set the traffic lulled and eventually petered out. A lone pair of headlights broke the dusk. As the car came into view the marksman popped open his lens covers on his scope. The spotter began to run the calculations in his head. "100 meters, 50kmh." The marksman made the adjustments on his scope and began to track the car. It was a sedan, blue with a white stripe down the side. "So we have a playboy on our hands." he said to himself. His finger curled around the trigger as he breathed in. He stopped his breath and then blew it out as the car swerved and glided onto the median. As the car came to a halt the teams began to move towards the road. Now was the most dangerous time. They would be exposed for the longest time. Fire team A setup a perimeter with a pair on the high ground just off the shoulder. Fire team B quickly dragged the young man out of the car and began to clean the blood and broken glass out of the interior. The driver side front window had been shot out, but the low power round was still lodged in the man's head. When the car looked half-descent they covered the man's head in a plastic bag to avoid a blood trail and took him into the woods and dumped his body in a ravine. They quickly covered it with leaves and moved back to the car. The car only had room enough for six of them, and one in the trunk, but they squeezed all nine of them in. The uncomfortable ride took just under half an hour. On the outskirts of Warwik they deposited six of the nine along with all but their boot knives. The six began to search for an adequate place to camp, while the three men headed into town.

"They want to discuss it in person."
"But we've stirred up the hive enough as it is!"
"Well..."
The Captain lept up from his seat, clambering quickly up to the main level of the airship gondola. In his hand from by his seat was a parachute. He strapped it to his back, double checked everything was in order, before opening the roof hatch into the main envelope of the airship.

Up there, he adjusted a headset on his head, nodding to the two engineers sitting shivering by a lighted hydrogen pipe that was very rapidly extinguished.
"I didn't see that this time, but next time you'll be going over the side. Without a parachute."
The engineers rapidly stood to attention, before they hurried off towards the rear of the airship, quietly muttering as they passed the shimmering sheets of internal film, hands in pockets of warm coats. His breath clouded in front of him as he paced across the steel gantries and along the freezing ladders, glad of the gloves he was wearing as he went past the icy patches about the ship. Soon, he was looking out to the ground a few kilometres below. They had drifted slowly, but still had a good view of the airship.
"Tell the guys below I'll be arriving very soon. As for the rest of you, the Co-pilot is now Acting Captain. Any mucking about, and you're off the side.

He took in a deep breath of the cold, thin air, before clambering up onto the rail. He didn't look down as he took a long step off the side. Air rushed up to meet him as he plunged downwards. He was going for a LALO jump, so that he didn't waste time going down there. He counted as he shielded his eyes against the rushing air, keeping an eye on the field he was heading towards below. Then he yanked on the parachute cord, feeling the black chute shoot up above him, jolting him to a slow. Using the ropes, he guided himself down towards the field where he could just make out some vehicles waiting. The field came up to him as he started running in mid air, stopping him from spraining an ankle as he collapsed to a halt. He unhitched the parachute, before gathering it up into a heap with some stones atop it, stopping it from blowing away.

He walked over towards the group of men waiting for him, saluting.
"Sorry about the impromptu landing, but we figured we were sitting ducks if we landed. Of course, I'll need a chopper to get back aboard while it's still in flight. But to business."

"Thank you for responding so quickly, like I mentioned before I have just heard from our backer and they say that $250,000 is outlandish and a rip-off. They are willing to offer $100,000 and will smuggle in the needed hydrogen and what ever other fuel you need, for the duration of your operation here. They say it is non-negotiable." The cool ocean breeze tickled the generals face and bit his cheeks, he was glad of it, as it would make it seem as if he wasn't blushing. It was hard to convey such news, especially after the afternoons spectacular performance, but he had no choice. The money had been wired to his account so that he could forward it, and the hydrogen was already on the way. He had spent the last few hours thinking of what he could add to the offer, but the humble RIRA was struggling as it was.
----------------
They parked the sedan in the back corner of the lot, so that the broken window would not be on public display, and walked towards the pub. The lot only had three cars in it and they looked like they were bought at least ten years ago. As they entered the pub all eyes shifted to them. "Failte, what can I get for you gentlemen?" Peadar O'Flannigan, the bar keep, asked.

"If it's non-negotiable... as long as the Hydrogen and Helium is provided. That should be enough thankyou."
He brushed some mud from his DPM uniform, before leaving the Sedan with the leaders. Smartening himself up quickly, he stepped into the bar along with the rest, ignoring the reaction from the other pub-goers as he entered. He turned to the barman, and greeted him.
"Good day. I'll have an orange juice please, since I'm flying."
He turned to the others, made a quick mental calculation, before turning back.
"Your finest ale please. I reckon that it'll be outta the system by the time I get back there."

"If it's non-negotiable... as long as the Hydrogen and Helium is provided. That should be enough thankyou."
He brushed some mud from his DPM uniform, before leaving the Sedan with the leaders. Smartening himself up quickly, he stepped into the bar along with the rest, ignoring the reaction from the other pub-goers as he entered. He turned to the barman, and greeted him.
"Good day. I'll have an orange juice please, since I'm flying."
He turned to the others, made a quick mental calculation, before turning back.
"Your finest ale please. I reckon that it'll be outta the system by the time I get back there."

OOC: The pub bit is the Divine Hospices, my bad, should have clarified, but it might be interesting if they are all on the bar together. So I will keep it. Our people will arrive first and the Hospices will arrive in a bit. Nice plot twist. ;)

Eric Wright was reviewing the latest global happenings on a wireless device from his seat at a table at a party in Perimeter Defense. Surprised and pleased to learn of a Catholic uprising against Protestantism, the Maniacan corporate juggernaut and one of two operative heads of state prepared a message for the rebels.

"The MDC would like to assist RIRA in any way possible in your holy undertaking. Our institution can offer trillions of dollars in aid, or millions of well-trained soldiers. All of our assets are at your disposal. Please let me know how the most powerful outfit in the world can be of assistance."

The last line was a possible embellishment, but in any case the warlord hoped to hear soon from his brethren in faith.

(OOC: Sorry, my bad. I still think we can make something of this though!)

The Captain knew something was wrong as he sipped on his cool pint glass, the alcohol warming his system. And sharpening his senses to a limited degree. He watched as the three men entered the bar, dressed in civilian clothes they looked unused to wearing. They would probably be concealing knives under there, or some form of gun. That AFMP-2 hanging from a holster in his belt felt very reassuring, and he kept his hand on it, loosening the holster. The manual safety was off, but the automatic one would assure no shots were fired until he aimed and fired it. Into the pistol grip of the weapon was thrust a conspicuous 50-round extended magazine, with another adhered to the side of it with stickytape to ensure that he had enough rounds on demand. The 6.8mm AFP was notorious for its low stopping power, yet this was eclipsed by the firerate in the machinepistols: up to 800 rpm in this model he was armed with, and its low recoil meant that it could be fired on full automatic accurately with only one hand. Perfect drive-by shooting weapon, as was soon found out.

"General, I would feel inclined to keep an eye on those three over there. I bet you Æ20 that they're armed. It would just calm down the impending doom sense I have, which is rather hyper at the moment. It might be nothing, but you can't be too careful."

Provisional Taoiseach Máel Sechnaill mac Máele Ruanaid's jaw dropped. "Are they serious?" Over-General Mícheál Seán Ó Coileáin nodded, "Thats what I said. However, I am willing to take them up on the offer, if I get Fianna Gael's approval."
"Of course you have it Mícheál, please do what you can." Máel was still trying to comprehend what he had just read. "We have been so blessed, this must be a sign that the Father is on our side. If only King James had been so lucky." Mícheál gave a quick smirk. "Then I shall send a reply right away." As the general left Máel was brimming with optimism. With the backing of two major nations, and a flying arsenal at their disposal, how could they lose?

TO: MDC
FROM: Over-General Mícheál Seán Ó Coileáin Rhodes Island Republican Army
We are overjoyed at your offer and would like to accept your offer in the form of military equipment. We will soon be receiving a shipment of 10 LV-3 Landing Craft Air Cushions, 4 PC-1 Cyclones, 2 RQ-2 Pioneers, 4 UH-60 Black Hawks, 2 AH-1 Super Cobras, 10 SR-2 British L96A1s, but it will not be enough to effect an invasion of the mainland. If you could send fighter jets and trainers, as well as any amphibious vehicles they would be much appreciated. Also there is a need for effective anti-aircraft capabilities. We are willing to accept a force of 2,000 men, including trainers for all of the equipment, but cannot accept further numbers as our food situation would become unbearable. Thank you.

Mícheál Seán Ó Coileáin
Over-General Rhodes Island Republican Army

Eric Wright sipped from his soda as prepared his response, while at the same time messaging his personnel director to ready the resources.

"The MDC is authorizing the mobilization of a squadron of 15 Catarian fighter aircraft, along with 8 amphibious personnel carriers, and sufficient training personnel of significantly less than fifty people. The goods will be arriving on an aircraft carrier which should remain self-sufficient for the duration but if not can be maintained by ourselves. You can expect the payload at Rhodes Island in time to be effective. Unfortunately Maniaca's air defense is mainly dependent on our air-force and missile grid, and therefore our mobile anti-air technology is effectively obsolete.

We wish you luck in your endeavor and invite you to request more help in the future if needed."

He looked at the three new comers, "Quite right, they are not from around here, and walking into a pub you don't belong in doesn't usually end well." He whispered to the two men sitting in the booth behind them. "Rest assured captain you are in a RIRA pub, we have them vastly outnumbered. Talk about being the wrong place at the wrong time. Watch this." he smiled to himself as he took a swig of the whiskey in his hand.
----
Divine Hospices (just to clarify :) )
They ordered a round of Bulmers and sat at the bar. "Where you from?" asked a man from a booth behind them. They ignored him. "Hey, I'm talking to you, where are you from!?" All three turned in perfect unison. and looked the man in the eye, "We where touring the island when the rebels took it over and now we can't leave."
"REBELS!?" The pub seemed to explode with emotion and fiery passion. The bar keep touched one of the Hospices arm, "You had better leave." The three men got up to leave. "If I ever see your faces again I will cut off and give it to the dogs." one of the RIRA men shouted. The last of the three stopped and turned. The man who had just shouted stood, "Yeah you heard me." The Hospice began to move toward the man, his companions turned now. As the Hospice took a step every man in the place stood up and produced a pistol. The two Hospices assessed the situation and grabbed the third ones arms, "It's time to go." As the door closed behind them the bar began to settle down.
---
(General Mac Síomóin and Captain Klanhi)
"Well Captain you can always count on us for a good time." He smiled. His cell phone rang. "Yeah, are you sure? Alright I will be there right away." He hung up the phone and stood up. "Captain Klanhi, it has been a pleasure to meet you, but I have an urgent meeting with the Over-General, I will leave you in the capable hands of Major Eoin O'Toole, Major Captain, Captain Major." The men shook hands. The General then offered his hand to the Captain and they parted. The General left the pub, taking well wishes from all in it, and talked to his car. How convenient that he parked it next to the pub when he went to meet the Alfegans. A few miles outside of the town he saw a few men standing next to a car with the hazards on. He looked in his mirror and saw no one behind him, good he thought no one will know, as he pulled into the left-hand lane to go around the men and the car. As he did so the man closest to the back of the car opened the trunk and produced a submachine gun. The bullets tore through the car and shredded General Mac Síomóin's throat and head. The car sped up before going off the road and into a ditch. Minutes later Fire team A had the General's car in flames and the blown out tire repaired with the spare from the General's trunk. It didn't quite fit but it would have to do. Fire team B came down from the wooded embankment and they again got into the crowded sedan. They had yet to locate the field where the airship was, the damn intelligence boys were wrong, per usual. It was a shame the man had to die, but he had seen them, and after the pub incidence they couldn't take any risks. It consoled them that he had been wearing a RIRA military uniform. (RIRA doesn't issue rank insignia to keep the officers safe)

TO: MDC
FROM: Over-General Mícheál Seán Ó Coileáin Rhodes Island Republican Army
Your aide is most welcome. If you plan on sending the aircraft carrier, please be advised that the last leg of the trip will take you through TNTC territorial waters, and that a support fleet would be my personal suggestion. Again many thanks.

Mícheál Seán Ó Coileáin
Over-General Rhodes Island Republican Army

(NB, this ain't an official government airship. It's mercenary.)

The commander flicked on his headset, sending a message to the co-pilot aboard the airship.
"You still there?"
"Yep. Where else would I be?"
"Having a few pints of beer. Anyway, we've got some friendlies coming into the area soon. You'll have to keep your eye out for amphibious watercraft, 'cos that'll be them. And they're bringing in a carrier, god forbid, so don't shoot at it. But keep your eyes peeled and get their IFF beacon codes as soon as possible."
"Right you are. Over and out."

He turned back to the officials as he watched the three men leave the pub. He was a veteran of many a bar fight, the weapon hanging from his belt proof of that. Not that he fired it often: he could pretty easily kill someone by smashing the weapon over their head or by knocking their nose straight through their face. He was surprised at the level of armament of the pub patrons, but reflected in hindsight it was acceptable given the current political climate.
"So, I'll be seeing you later. Drive safe, and make sure you can get a chopper nearby soon so that I can return to the airship."

As the general left, he flicked back to the radio channel.
"Right, the H and He1should be arriving soon. Hopefully it's in air cylinders with Novan seals2, or you'll have to find out that bloody adapter again. They'll give us a chime when the stuf's in, so we can land in the field.
But keep below the cloud layer tonight: I've just seen 3 suspicious-looking characters, and I reckon they could be NTC secret agents."
"No heroics then, Captain."
"Obviously. Well, I'll see you lot later."
"Until then, sir."

(Note 1 - Slang for Hydrogen and Helium, the two gases used in nearly all modern airships.
Note 2 - Airships are loaded with cylinders of helium, which is used to fill up the cells and emergancy gas reserve, the empty cylinders used as ballast or as weaponry. This is done on board. Hydrogen however is injected into the cells while on the ground, to save any problems in the air, and the cylinders have to be completely emptied. They are attached to the uptake mechanisms using the Novan link, found in every airship gas cylinder used by either Alfegos or Prevania, or nations who have purchased these airships. Other nations however use different links. Now while this may seem a trivial problem, leakage of hydrogen from these cylinders isn't just a waste: it's a disaster in the making. That is why it is so important to get the cylinders right, or use the correct adapter to conjoin the two links to stop any leakage.)

OOC: Noted

Seat of Fianna Gael Provisional Government: New Providence
Over-General Mícheál Seán Ó Coileáin paced the room. Where was General Mac Síomóin, he wondered. He was due five minutes ago and he was not one to be late. Ó Coileáin, was nervous, but more so he was excited to tell Diarmuid about the new deal they had struck. He flipped open his cell phone and hit re-dial. The call went straight to voicemail. The hair on the back of his neck prickled. Not a good sign. Was he in an accident? He hung up and made a few more phone calls. In ten minutes a convoy of pickups full of soldiers, a roll off flat bed, and a tow truck where assembled outside of the building. Ó Coileáin jumped into the first pick up. "Mícheál, what is the problem?" his wife asked. "I am not sure, but I think Diarmuid is in trouble. He is 15 minutes late for a meeting and his phone isn't ringing." with that the convoy started down the I-44. They made it almost all the way to Warwik before they noticed the fire. "Oh Christ no!" Everyone was out of the trucks in moments. "Fuck, go into the town and get the fire department!" Ó Coileáin was vainly trying to put out the fire with a little fire extinguisher from the cab of the pick up.
---
(Pub in Warwik)
As Major O'Toole and Captain Klanhi were finishing off their last drinks they heard the firetrucks a few streets over. "Wonder whats up, sounds like the whole Fire Brigade is out?" The Major rose and put on his jacket. "Want to go have a look?"

"Now my imminant shit-o-meter just went off the scale. Never trust co-incidences: make sure you get some armed men in the area, and around the airship field: we don't want any of those bastards rigging the field."

He stood up, drew his gun, and walked out the pub after first downing the rest of his pint. Outside, the chaos of fire sirens, fire crackle and screams enveloped him as he moved towards the roadway.

"I'll be very, very happy when you can get me a helicopter, gyrocopter, balloon... hell, I'd even be willing to get the airship by parachute from a plane."

He radioed up to the airship, calling the co-pilot.

"Get some spotlights on the airship field, and get the engineers to grab some guns from the armoury: if they see a single thing move down there, you nail it. Is that understood?"
"Yes sir!"

__________________________________

The field below the airship lay in darkness, the dark hulk of the airship far above. To any observer below, it would seem the airship was actually getting bigger. Suddenly, with the airship a kilometre above the field, 4 powerful searchlights mounted on the corners of the airship cargo gondola lit up, flooding the entire field with light: they were landing lands, used for night landings in areas where no airship facilities existed. Along with it came all the airship night lights: green stripes illuminated across the entire left side, red on the right side, and blue lights along the underside, picking out the dark shapes of the gondolas. On the side rails, the two engineers armed with heavy machineguns looked down below, long belts of rounds hanging down into their ammunition crates, keeping a keen eye out on the area below. They wore thick clothes, knowing full well they would be staying out here till dawn. Or till they could get some sleep.

OOC: You are kinda setting yourself up for failure, by putting those spotlights on the field the Hospices would have to be blind to not know where it is now. Your call.

The Major and the Captain got into the Major's car and followed the line of cars out to I-44. The traffic effectively stopped. The Major pulled off the road. "Let's walk, I think we can get you a news chopper." He made a few calls as they half walked, half jogged along the parking lot that used to be the I-44. When they got closer to the end, they saw the cause. A huddle of firetrucks and a convoy of pickups where parked at odd angles all over the road. A tow truck was pulling a soggy tangled wreck out of a ditch. "What the hell is going on here?" asked the major. No one seemed to know. As he ran towards the tow truck he heard a familiar voice, but not in the tone he was used to. "Major, over here."
"Over-General, what happened here?"
"Those damn bastards killed him, they blew his head off and burned his body!"

(OOC: If you ain't encountered the 'new' style of airships (i.e. the ones that I spent hours putting thought into to create something that can take on a small nation and win, NOT my early iron-clads...), then I understand your surprise on it revealing its position. But remember that if it can't seen anyone placing demo charges in the field so that they blow the airship when it lands, then that is surely better than having a few potshots taken at it by the special forces?)
_________________________________________________

"See, always trust me. Now I can guess what their next target will be: the airship. Since it's just lit itself up, I woulnd't be surprised if they could see that over in TNTC. They're working on getting the night lights off save those spotlights, but it'll take time. So I know this ain't my place to say, but whip up the vigilante groups, before the shit really starts flying."

He had seen many bodies before, and barely revulsed as he saw the mutilated body of the man he had seen only minutes before removed from the burnt-out vehicle.

OOC: Right, o
IC: "Captain," Major O'Toole quickly pulled him aside. "Vigilante, rebels those are not words to be taken lightly around here. I know you meant no harm, but for your own sake, you wouldn't want two groups running around gunning for your airship. From now on, please call them volunteers. It is the best way." As they spoke the crowd of at least a hundred men gathered at the scene. "Right," said the major, "I want all the volunteers in the immediate Warwik area at the field in a half hour. Call your friends in the surrounding towns tell them to relieve you at dawn. On your way to the field conduct a sweep of the area, if you see something moving, shoot it."

The helicopter came on the scene soon after the men dispersed. The captain was back on his way to the airship, "Go get em' cowboy." were the majors last words as the chopper lifted off the ground.

"Right you are. I'll be careful in future, though I have tried to keep such care in these matters. Well, I'll see you soon. Just make sure that they don't act like special forces: we don't friendly fire."

The chopper took off, soon reaching the altitude of the airship. Slowly edging its way towards the side of the massive hulk, the rotor blades shimmered only a few metres from the gasbag, the film covering it flexing in the air currents. He flicked the helicopter door open, thanked the pilot, and stepped out onto the gantry. He gave a thumbs up as the helicopter flew off, rushing down along the row of red lights lit up on the airship sides towards the control gondola.

Outside the airship control gondola, he opened the primary circuit-breaker unit, scanning down the hundreds of tiny little units with switches and LEDs shining until he found the lighting control. He flicked a few switches, and after much trial and error the airship lights cut out, leaving only after images. Now, the only lights shining were the 4 spotlights, slowly rotating in their mounts as the co-pilot scanned the area with them, picking out the shadows of trees, rocks, and now the approaching group.
"I've just had a very nasty thought."
"Yes?" the weapons systems controller woke up, taking a quick cat-nap.
"What if they blend in with the crowd?"
Silence clamped down over the gondola, interrupted only by the snores of the Defence systems controller.
"Now we have a problem. Get ready for anything, and I mean anything."
He hit the Defence systems controller.
"Wakey wakey: did you hear what I said?"
"No."
"Well start listening: get all the airship defence systems online and ready to use immediately. Fire up the signal generators, check all the Hailstorm units and make sure the Point Defence autocannons are fully primed. I'm going out for a bit of sight-seeing, but I'll be back as soon as anything happens."

He walked further back through the gondola, past the crew quarter area and into the supply room. As well as the boxes of food, water, money, personal goods and all that, there were crates of weapons: assault rifles, machineguns, sniper rifles and even a missile launcher graced the supply bay, alongside crates of ammunition. He took the missile launcher, an AAT-87, and a small laser designator unit. As he climbed up the ladder into the airship interior, he dragged with him a crate of 4 missiles, each a sleek green-painted explosive round. Overkill, yes, but much more accurate than the spray of a machinegun.

Divine Hospices: First the sound of the chopper had alerted them, that their presences was known. But after hovering near the new beacon in the sky it disappeared. The second was more disheartening. The sounds of hundreds of trigger-happy hero wanna-bes tramping through the woods in there direction. They began to move towards the field. "We get as close to the field as possible in the tree line then we move around the side of it and move due west." The squad leader then grabbed his gun and they moved out.

RIRA: The one hundred and fifty strong army of frenzied men was nearly sprinting through the woods looking for the "enemies." They lacked everything that characterizes a state military, accept for the lethal firepower at their disposal. The AVIRs were more then a subtle hint that these yahoos were not on their own. "FOR CHRIST'S SAKE STOP!" The gaggle of men seemed to freeze mid step. Major O'Toole had been put in charge of the operation, mostly because he was the only officer there, aside from the Over-General. "If they didn't know we were coming by now they would have to be dead! Form yourselves into your platoons, we will use a fan patrol method, go."

The disadvantage of the powerful lights swinging around scanning the area was that they lengthened the shadows, turning them into pools of darkness. Watching the rabble in the distance forming into military-grade platoons, the Captain stil kept an eye on the areas of dark shadow, trying to pick out people. Of course, the shadows made it very hard, but through the binoculars he thought he saw small silhouettes darting across from shadow to shadow as the lights moved away from part of the treeline.
"Hey, can you swing the lights back round to the south of the field. But make it seem like we haven't noticed a thing."

He switched back to his binoculars, changing the radio frequency on his headset.
"Guys on the ground, I think I've found some people. Don't move into the area yet, just go towards the northwest corner of the field. And keep quiet: we want they to run into you when we start raining down hell on them."

He kept watching, and this time as the searchlight moved away saw the glint of something metallic moving. He'd found them.
"You two, can you move towards the port side of the airship?"
"We're already there: we're on the underside service gantry."
"Good. Now, when the searchlight comes round again, keep an eye on the patch of field I'm just going to mark."

He took out a small 18mm flaregun, and loaded a scarlet casing. As the light past again, he took aim with the binoculars. The tiny flicker of movement made him pull the trigger, launcing the bright red flare downwards.
"We see it!"

The searchlights all converged onto the area where the flare was smouldering, followed by the roar of the two machineguns firing. Invisible rounds spat out alongside purple tracer rounds, dust spraying upwards in a large area where the guns were pointed.
"Drop our altitude, so we've got a better range."
There was a subtle change in the piping underneath the side repair gantry as helium began to move. Along with it came a light sensation as the airship began to slowly sink downwards.
After about 15 seconds, the firing stopped. The barrels of the machineguns glowed an evil red as the two engineers began loading their spare round belts, leaving the guns to hang down from the rails they were strapped onto.

All was quiet.
"Turn the searchlights off now: all the lights. Give them a chance to build up their courage again, before we start again."
He swung down a ladder to the bottom gantry, his eyes now attuned to the darkness. The engineers were kneeling outwards, picking up the empty casings that hadn't fallen through the holes in the iron lattice they stood upon and dropping them into empty ammunition boxes, alongside any of the discarded links. He moved towards the tail of the airship, facing outwards from the large cargo gondola below him, his head almost brushing the underside film of the airship, covered in new film from the bullets that had burst through them. He knelt down, the binoculars up again. The flare below still burnt bright.
"Now, bring those searchlights a wee bit further around, but don't turn them on. I want to catch them in the open this time."

Divine Hospices: The red flare was more then unexpected when it landed a few feet to their left flank. Who ever these bastards where they were good. Seconds later the sky lit up and the forest exploded. Rounds from the airship tore the trees to pieces sending hot lead and wooden missiles everywhere. A few hundred feet away the RIRA boys also opened up, probably because they were scared shitless, but the Hospices didn't have time to wonder. As they ran to the west trying to avoid the fire screams where heard behind them. One, no two men were down, "Fuck em' lets go!" shouted the squad leader. The squadies hesitated for only a second before they realized it was suicide to go back. The RIRA gang was re-composing itself and moving forward. The Hospices had to move fast. In his headpiece the squad leader heard a quick transmission. "Your mission is aborted, you have been made, repeat you have been made mission is aborted." Your fuckin' telling me the squad leader mumbled to himself between gasping breathes. They moved to a small incline and scrambled down the far side. Then realizing the advantage they reassembled on the far side of the ridge line with the marksman on the ridge to keep watch. "Here is the plan no one moves, don't even breath, unless I say so. They spotted us because we were moving. Now that the lights are off try to make some sort of overhead cover. You have three minutes go. The marksman's spotter threw leaves, grass, twigs whatever he could find on him then did the best he could on himself. The RIRA was moving parallel to their position, and if they stayed still they would be missed.

RIRA: "Captain where did the lights go, I think we lost em. We found two bodies pretty badly hit up we are taking them back to town to ask them a few questions. Do you have IR stuff up there, it would really help."

The spotlights came on, and began scanning the area: not a single enemy was in sight. All that could be seen from below were the RIRA men moving about the area. The flare soon burnt out.
"Damn it, we lost them! I won't gamble on that trick again. As for IR equipment... I'll see what I can find."

He switched to the gondola radio.

"Do we have any IR kit in the cargo bay?"
"Nope, sorry. But, I think we could try and recalibrate the IR optics on the cargo gondola, to pick up humans instead of aircraft."
"Right you are."

Strange whirrings erupted from a small unit mounted under the cargo gondola as it began adjusting. On the weapons control screens, a world of black and white erupted, the pictures gradually shrinking down to a detailed level. A map sprung up of the area, areas of heat marked with white spots and of cold with blue spots. The white moving dots were looked at, all in groups, and were dismissed as RIRA militants until they noticed some dots up on the ridge, near the edge of this virtual map. 6 of them, very dim and some still dimming, all still.
"Captain, does the major have any men up on the ridge?"
"Nope, all are down lower."

The machineguns clicked as they were cocked, new rounds hanging from them, the sound carrying on the night air to his position further down the gantry. He himself activated the laser designator, using the small scope to aim where the heat spots were. He began counting over the radio headset as he flicked on the laser and hefted the missile launcher onto his shoulder.
"5, 4, 3, 2, 1..."

The machineguns began chattering again as he fired off the missile, a jolt as it was ejected followed a by a roar as the rocket motor ignited. The missile quickly veered around, homing in on the heat spot produced by the launcher near the end of the ridge. He fired off another flare, this time one marked with three red dots. As the glowing object flew towards the ridge, it erupted into light, splitting into 3 seperate glowing balls that hit the ground in the area, lighting up even more than before. The purple tracer rounds moved to the left, vegetation exploding as they mowed across the area. An explosion in the distance threw up a fireball as the missile hit, followed by crys of delight from the engineers.
"Don't get too excited: remember we can't actually see where they are!"

Divine Hospices: This time there was no escape everyone was wounded. The marksman was gone his spotter was missing his left arm and all the skin from his head to his left shoulder blade. The others were either full of gaping holes or with splinters the size of a man's fist. One man had a flare seering away the flesh on his leg as it was pinned down by a fallen limb. The two left relatively unharmed, stress on relatively, hobbled off as fast as their wrecked bodies would take them.

RIRA: "Thanks Captain can we get a spotlight on that ridge I want to see the damage." The group moved towards the ridge, slowly, they had been sobered by the state of the first two bodies that they had recovered. They watched more attentively, and took each step more carefully. They were prolonging the time before they had to view the new carnage. As they neared the smouldering ridge they smelled the acidy tangy smell of burnt flesh. Some men stopped and refused to move forward. Other fell to their knees heaving and vomitting. The major and a few stoic men held handkerchiefs over their noses and mouths and moved in. "Captain I think we got em'. I mean really, think so." he stopped to cough, spitting up some stomach acid as he tried not to vomit. "Yeah, we're done here." He quickly took stock of the bodies, four here two back there, damn they were missing three. (the marksman being the third) He decided not to tell anyone about the missing guys. "Yeah, we got em'." The men with weaker stomachs began to fade back into the woods back towards the town. "Get us some blankets will you?" the major said to a few of those returning. The group fell back to the near side of the ridge and they all sat down to take stock. Somewhere in the woods a man was heard sobbing, another still heaving. The major fell to his knees and began to pray. They had called themselves soldiers but he knew they were all just simple men, he prayed they would have the strength to carry on the fight. Had it been to much to fast? He wasn't sure, what he did know was that it was only just beginning. Shit was really going to hit the fan when the TNTC found out about this.

"Right you are down there. My co-pilot will be answering your calls from now, just to let you know in advance."

The machineguns had stopped firing again, and were now being dismounted from the rails along with the ammunition cases. Clouds of condensation poured from the machinegun barrels as they were hefted through the cold air back to the "armoury", the missile launcher and laser marker with them.

The airship began a descent downwards towards the field: they would moor using the cables from the trucks, and have some rest from action stations. The Captain was the first into the crew quarters along with the engineers. He collapsed on his bunk at the side of the large room, drawing across the curtain in front of him and kicking off his shoes. From what he had heard down below, a lot of people hadn't taken well to that. At least time to rest and recuperate: the Defence systems controller slumped in his chair snoring, the screen in front of him showing the area all around in RADAR and now in refocused IR, ready to wake him should something occur. And the heaters had come on, now the power was diverted away from the spotlights, so they'd able to rest warm.

He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

When the Captain awoke the next morning there was a strange voice calling, "Captain Klannany? Captain you in there?" The young man was walking around the ship try to get anyones attention. "Captain?" As Klanhi stumbled to his feet he shouted, "Yeah, here, hold on." He opened the door of the gondola and peered out, ever so cautiously. "Heya captain, the helium and the hydrogen just arrived where do you want it?"

"Move it to the side a moment: we're just coming down."
He sucked down some caffine tablets as he took over the controls, the airship sinking right to ground level. There were distant shouts as they engineers sunk in stakes through the gantries into the ground, while directing the men on the ground. He then clicked the gondola exit to open, leaping down onto the ground as he breathed in the crisp morning air. Around the airship, men were milling. He noticed vehicles nearby, covered over.

He paced over the crisp grass to the man who appeared to be in charge.
"Morning: can you get the men to bring the gases over to the engineers over there?"

The two engineers had flicked open the side doors of the engine gondola at the rear of the airship, revealing the complex network of piping and tanks inside the gondola. They had also opened the engine coverings of the 6 turboprop engines mounted on the gondola, revealing an even more complex system of coolant, cylinders and pistons, underneath a heavy sheath of what appeared to be Chobham ceramic armour. The gondola was also plating with that hexagonal ceramic network underneath the CFRP outer casing. One of the engineers was admiring a neat set of bullet holes on the panel.
"Someone down there took a potshot at us. Silly bugger didn't know which bit to shoot, but he obviously was a bloody good shot."
He pulled out the remains of some armour-piercing rounds from the interior, where they had left some stains on the ceramics.

The cylinders were brought over, and udner the instruction of the engineers were loaded into the interior, where one was fitting them upside down into a large plastic grid above inside, each linked up to a complicated mechanism of tubing inside this unit.
"One of the most expensive parts of the airship. And the most dangerous if it goes up while loaded."
Already however, there was the audible hiss of hydrogen being fed into the airship, noted on the dials in the control gondola by the co-pilot as deflated gas cells were filled up, the Defence systems controller running along the inside past the cell sectors being filled to shut off leaking cells and mark them for repair when they were in the air. More bullet holes.

"You don't cease to amaze me. As for the soldiers, have they blabbed yet?"

"Yes, they have revealed some information. Some of our members are quite...persuasive. They are TNTC special agents. We believe they are part of the Supreme Elects' elite guard, the Divine Hospices. It wouldn't surprise me if there were more of these guys around. I will alert the other groups around the island. If you could begin patrolling the area we are due to get the shipment from the MDC. So we will be joining you in the air soon."

"Right you are!"
The Captain and the rest of the crew reboarded the airship as the last of the cylinders was rigged up to the airship. There was a load hiss inside as masses of cells began to inflate, followed by the tugging of the airship at it's moorings. The moorings were slowly removed, and the airship began to drift up into the sky. Empty cylinders started raining down as they were ejected from the airship, allowing it to rise up still further. As it eclipsed the sun for the observers below, the 6 engines roared to life as Hydrogen spurted through the fuel lines and into the engines, and the airship slowly began to move off towards the coastline.

"Where are the goods coming in from? Just so we know who not to shoot!"

A loaded Aircraft Carrier sailed speedily through water reflecting the colors of sunrise. "Pity," thought Commander Patrice Barunda, "that we didn't make it under cover of darkness. Won't be long now I suppose."

He called the crew to ready in case they met trouble on the way. The stingy Maniacan Death Corporation declined to provide them offensive support, so all they had were on-board batteries and rocket launchers. The training crew could all fly the fighters if need be but they were not outfitted for Air to Surface combat. Commander Barunda crossed himself and began to pray for safe passage.

Alfegos: "Captain they are coming in from the south-east, I am assume they will will try to avoid breaching NTC territorial waters until the last possible moment. It might be a good idea to try to raise them on the radio so you can coordinate there path. They will be sailing into New Providence."

Maniaca:
"Unidentified surface vessel this is NTC fighter wing Thunderstorm 2, be advised you are within twenty miles of our territorial waters. We are experiencing an internal issue and must advise you to turn back, repeat, must advise you to turn back." The four jets flew low over the aircraft carrier. "Jesus, what is a lone aircraft carrier doing here?" one of the pilots said on the wing frequency. "I don't know and I don't like it. Do you think this shit is getting international?"
"Hasn't it already with that blimp?"
"Those guys are mercenaries, they don't count."
"Well if these guys are legit governmental how do we proceed?"

"Understood: we will post them some beacons for safe landing zones."

The airship slowly banked before it started gliding towards the inbound traffic on the RADAR horizon. They noticed the other inbound carrier alongside some NTC aircraft.
"We have detected a wing of NTC aircraft, possibly fighters, inbound nearby. What should our response be?"

The missiles had started to warm up again.

The radio crackled as a pirated radio signal became clear. "Captain Klanhi, welcome! We have made provisions for you to land on the plain outside of Warwick. There will be a red signal flare in a few minutes to let you know where the field is. We will send a delegation to greet you and your crew. Again, welcome good comrades."

TNTC Intelligence Synthesis Station Fort Rehoboth
The center was alive. With the rebels in control of the island and the government not taking any action, the intelligence was being held to new standards. "Sir." the corporal came to a halt. "What have you got?" the brigadier general responded. The corporal handed a piece of paper to the brigadier.
Intelligence Brief:
RIRA insurgents have been known to have connections with a large catholic government.
RIRA insurgents have been known to have received training and the money to buy weapons from said government.
RIRA insurgents have been known to have been smuggled to said government for training.
The Citadel, Urbus Doomanus

The large Catholic government in question was, as the world would soon find out, that of the Imperium Doomanum. This would come as no surprise to foreign intellegence agencies, as the Doomani government was a known sponsor of armed Catholic liberation movements. A good deal of the RIRA fighters had been smuggled abroad to Doomanum for training in one of several dozen training camps, where they were molded into incredibly tough guerilla fighters. Doomani government precense on the island itself was next to nonexistant save for a few ODIM officers, "advisors" to the RIRA who helped funnel in money and intellegence data; however, the infamous "crusader" organization Manus Dei had maintained a presence on the island, and had played a key role in smuggling in the vast quantities of arms that supplied the RIRA. In addition, they had provided local training to RIRA militia units.

The entire operation was the pet project of Consul Gaius Doomanus Cato, brother to the Emperor. Naturally he'd sought the permission of Caesar before embarking on this campaign; after all, to use the Imperial taxpayer's money without the permission of Caesar would be embezzlement! Maximus, more caught up in the larger scheme of world politics, paid little mind to his brother and gave him a blank check book for the operation with the promise of future military support should the operation bear fruit. If Cato was anything, he was effecient. Afterall, he was first and foremost a businessman, a politician second, and so Imperator Maximus knew that the money would go a long way, and it clearly had.

The two brothers strolled the vast marble corridors of the Citadel alone, speaking of various subjects. Finally, the subject of the RIRA's success on Rhodes Island was brought up by Cato,

"They've proven most resourceful, brother. It only took them a day or so to throw their schismatic overlords out of their island," he said with a smile, reflecting upon the swift victory the RIRA had brought about in the early hours of the rebellion.

"Yes, I've seen that. Corbulo's boys did an excellent job training them up," Maximus replied, referring to the ODIM training camps established by the Magister Lictorum, Titus Aemilius Corbulo. Maximus stopped walking, stroking his beard for a moment,

"I assume this is in regards to military support then?" he asked his brother pointedly.

"I've spoken to their leader, and he is intent on pushing onto the mainland and spread the faith. Their victory is by no mean assured, brother...however, with our support they would be utterly unstoppable," he spoke in his usual sales-pitch tone.

Maximus grunted in reply.

"The most logical course for the Imperium as a whole would be to recognize the independance of Rhodes Island, to do otherwise would be to abandon our brothers in faith."

He did have a point. Maximus nodded,

"Very well, draw up a document recognizing their independance, I want it on my desk in one hour. As for military support, I'll speak to Marius. Ideally we'll have troops on the ground within a day of recognizing their independance..."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Manus Dei Operations Center, Rhodes Island

"It appears the proddies just attempted to make an incursion," a radio operator clad in Doomani-style woodland digital BDUs shouted towards Magister Capitulus Caius Avitus Dio, commander of Manus Dei's Rhodes Island Chapter, as it was known.

The seasoned Miles of fifty-six years of age had been with Manus Dei since early childhood. He bore countless scars on his body, having been a veteran of fighting in Czardas and Jerusalem. He calmly strode over to the younger man, who's headphones were plugged into a laptop which in turn was connected to the HQ's ELINT system.

"Oh?" Dio asked as he looked over the Miles' shoulder.

"I think our RIRA friends may have taken a few of them alive..." the man replied, suddenly chattering away on the laptop to pull up more information.

Suddenly the familiar pinging noise of the laptop's instant messaging program sounded. It was a message from their ODIM contact: evidently word had been leaked from the Citadel that the Imperium was getting involved soon. This was very good news, and it showed on Dio's wrinkled, scarred face.

"I'll be heading over to have a chat with our RIRA friends about this. Be back in a few," he casually strode out the door, clad in BDUs, a TDX hanging off his hip. Armed men had become a common sight on Rhodes Island in the past weeks, so nobody would think much of him.

"Captain, I've just been having a bit of a chat with the guys down on the ground."
"Yes?"

The crew were relaxing as they cut across the sky, not expecting much in the way of an attack for the meantime: the NTC military knew full well what they were capable of. A big fish patrolling a pond. The co-pilot was back asleep, while the other crew members were watching satellite TV from a nearby Alfegan stratellite1 on the Defence Systems control screen, the engineers sitting on fold-up chairs they'd pulled out of nowhere. No point asking where they hid all their stuff.

"It seems that I now know the identity of their benefactor."
"Who?"
"Doomingsland"
There was a loud cough from the Captain, and the sound of one of the engineers collapsing from his chair.
"Well, it seems we're on the winning side alright. Just be extremely careful what you say to them and keep behind the main attack force when they come: and when they do, I think you'll see the closest equivalent to an Aero-battlecraft attack that exists."
He reflected back to old battles when he had been in the Aero-fleet: head of an escort detachment to protect 4 Aero-battlecraft the government had been insane enough to build in the first place. Kilometre long craft, each unable to protect itself from air attacks but easily able to turn a small country into a smouldering ruin. That had been when he had first seen what happened when a lucky hit took one out: to the cost of a very large city.

"Make sure that the IFF beacon signal code is sent to them..."

::RL player sits back in chair quite pleased with himself. After all in a game of cards 'A Smith and Wesson beats four aces.'::

will post soon

Commander Barunda looked into the sky at the four jets patrolling overhead. He shouted at them. "What the hell? Do you know who I am? Goddamnit go away! I have more planes than you assholes!"

He got on the Carrier's public address: "This is Commander Barunda. Anyone authorized to fly the Catarians get in the cockpits and prepare to skirmish. Carrier crew, prepare to fly the birds."

He shouted at himself now. "Goddamnit!"

After a moment of thought, he got on the radio with the NTCs. He waited as long as he could before he expected they grew intensely impatient. He spoke, in a forced tone of indifference, while his crew scrambled on deck.

"NTC fighter wing Thunderstorm 2....we're on a humanitarian mission....we're here to donate these planes, vehicles, and nuclear weapons to your government....go away."

He shut off his end of the radio and laughed. Commander Barunda cracked himself up. He just hoped the weekend trainer soldiers trying to remember how to strap themselves into the cockpits wouldn't have to take off and actually shoot at the other guys. He could only be maybe an hour away now....

The pilots paused. The flight leader breached protocol, "When you say this stuff is for our government do you mean the NTC, or Fianna Gael on Rhodes Island, and do you really have nuclear missiles?"

"Miles, it is good to see you, I am sure you can tell things are really starting to heat up around here. I must offer my thanks for all that you have done for us so far. What news do you bring now?" said Over-General Mícheál Seán Ó Coileáin.

Dio smiled and shook Mícheál's hand,

"I have recieved word that Caesar will be recognizing your independance within the hour, and that Imperial troops are slated to be deployed in support of any action you may choose to partake over the mainland."

"Most excellent, I will wait with baited breathe for Ceasar's words. As for the invasion. Once the carrier unloads we will have the capability for our men to cross the bay in numbers. As for your part, Fort Sakonnet is not unknown to you. If the fort is able to reinforce the troops we attack it is likely that we will fail. However if Fort Sakonnet has a Domani flag over the top of it, the demoralizing factor will be great and we will win the day." The Over-General was twitching with excitement. This was the moment he and his men had been training for. Dio seemed calm and collected, thats what Mícheál liked about him. He looked up to the man, and aspired to be like him, but for now he was a quivering ball of energy ready to launch across the narrow strip of water between Rhodes Island and the NTC.

Dio was pleased that the RIRA seemed to be leaning towards carrying out as much of the campaign as they could on their own accord; it showed that these were properly motivated Cruxiatores, ready to spread the faith by any means necessary. Mícheál would make a good leader, from what Dio saw. A moment later, the room's door opened and a tall, tan-looking man of a Doomani complexion, dressed in civilian clothing (jeans and a t-shirt), stepped through the threshold. Dio rolled his eyes at the ODIM agent, Quintus Tutilus Buteo, who had for the past six months acted as the Imperial government's official attache with the RIRA. Buteo was a seasoned spook, used to working with rebel factions to prop up rightist and Catholic regimes.

He shot a glance at Dio and looked back towards Mícheál. ODIM and Manus Dei, despite having to work together on a regular basis, had something of a rivalry: ODIM was the right arm of Caesar while Manus Dei wasn't even a proper government organization; on most foreign accounts it was nothing more than an extremely well-funded terrorist organization.

"I take it Dio informed everyone of the good news then?" Buteo saidin Gaelic in a slightly irritated tone. He found it ironic that a man who didn't even work for the government had brought official government news to the RIRA before he did. Ironic, and insulting.

"We've been informed that you've taken a number of Proddy prisoners. I need to speak with them as soon as possible. In the mean time, Caesar conveys his congradulations and admiration for what you have done here, Mícheál,"

The group chatted for a few minutes, and the subject of Doomani assistance to take Fort Sakonnet came up.

"We can have a Vallexiatia of EQV troopers here by the end of the day. If those bastards can't take that fort, I can't imagine anybody else who can."

The EQV were a formation of the Exercitus that functioned as special shock troopers, classified as elite troops by most armies. Indeed, they were considered to be on par with Spetsnaz type units in terms of operational capacity, although it was certainly true that the individual Legionarius in the EQV had recieved a good deal more training than any foreign counterpart, having been raised for the purpose of being a soldier in Caesar's army. A Vexellatia of these troops could exceed two-thousand men, potentially hundreds of helicopters, dozens of air mobile support vehicles, as well as organic artillery support. The NTC garrison holding the fort wouldn't know what hit them.

ooc: waiting for that carrier

"Analysis of radio traffic shows that the NTC forces are harassing the inbound allied aircraft carrier. Firing missiles at once to intercept said fighters."

The airship had been designed to carry SAMs and SSMs, since the speed of the platform was not that rapid compared to fighters. As such, many of the common Alfegan missiles are carried aboard for use in such an attack.

In this case, as the Weapons System Controller scrolled through the missiles displayed on her screen, she went past the 16 Splinter ULRSAM/ULRSOM, the assorted SkySinger, Crossbow, Longbow and other missiles till she found the ideal weapon: Rainbow LRSAMs. She pressed the fire button as the RADAR unit aboard the airship locked onto the distant aircraft, the airship rocking slightly as they fired.

From out of two false panels on the airship's side, a pair of Rainbow SAMs shot out, ejected by a booster charge before the secondary stages ignited metres from the airship, allowing them to soar off into the sky. Nearing the fighter wing, the missiles dropped their secondary stages along with a storm of RADAR chaff, leaving the warhead stages tipped with continuous rod anti-squadron warheads to home in using active RADAR units in their tips towards the aircraft in the squadron.

Aboard the airship, the Captain turned the airship into the wind so that now all the airship presented to any fighters was the much smaller area of the nose. From here, he could look out into the very far distance to follow the smoke trails from the two missiles.

The pilots paused. The flight leader breached protocol, "When you say this stuff is for our government do you mean the NTC, or Fianna Gael on Rhodes Island, and do you really have nuclear missiles?"


Commander Barunda got back on the radio in response, watching the reserve squad pilots close their cockpits.

"The vehicles and weapons are for your government, the uh, (what had he said?)....uhm....(oh yeah) the NTC. We don't have nuclear missiles, but we do have nuclear warheads, and we're trying to lay low here so pleased to be not circling over head mmkay?"

He watched a sea of thumbs go up across the runway. Some of the crew were still preparing, but everything would be ready to go in a minutes or less, if it came to blows. He prayed it did not.


A moment later he saw two missiles streaking towards him through the sky. He panicked initially, but then smiled when he realized they were aimed to clear the carrier by a significant measure. If he saw correctly they were aimed for the bothersome fighter jets harassing him from above. He thought, he was grateful for the unpredicted aid, but hoped the munitions would be effective considering they would likely blow his humanitarian story out of the water. He laughed out loud: no pun intended.

TNTC: As the fighters radios went dead the alarm began to wail all over the National Congregation. "All units we are now at war, two attempts have been tried to negoiate with the dissidents but they have failed, repeat we are now at war with Rhodes Island and all those who side with Fianna Gael."

Supreme Elect Mason came on the television and the radio moments later, "My people we have been attack by a most ferocious neighbor. Those Catholics have betrayed us and they will pay, as of five minutes ago there has exsisted a state of war between our two nations."

The Alfegans' radar began to pick up a number of contacts and TNTC airforce warmed up and took off, making sure to stay over NTC air space, but ready for an attack when it came.

Rhodes Island: The three brutalized and wounded Hospices were brought to Buteo's camp a few hours after he had expressed interest in their fate. "Sir, they revealed that they were from TNTC, and that they were agents of Mason, but other then that they will not speak. We suspect that they are part of an elite group called the Divine Hospices." The young officer was delighted to offer up what he knew. He saluted Buteo smartly as he turned to leave.

Mícheál and Dio tuned into Ceasear's speach and Mícheál loudly applauded at the end of it. It was hard to contain the excitement it brought, but it was quickly subsided when Mason's declaration of war came over the radio next. "Well Dio, it seems we will be needing more then just a few of your men now. We cannot take on those odds. Do whatever it takes to get as much firepower here as soon as possible, our fate depends on it. The airship is serving us well, but they can only carry so many missiles."

As the carrier pulled into New Providence harbor the quay swarmed with people. Many of them were RIRA voluteers how had come to get the equipment off. On the harbor channel the harbor master sent out a burst to the carriers captain. "Welcome to New Providence captain, your pilots can fly their planes to New Providence airport, there should be plenty of runway for them. Transportation back from the airport will be provided."

Major O'Toole got on the radio as soon as he could get to the Warwik police station. "Captain I heard about your wonderful shots, thats three for three on your record. I am not sure if you are picking it up but the NTC airforce just scrammbled. How long can you hold them off until we can get these new fighters in the air?"

The Captain opened his communications channel as the airship began to power towards the NTC mainland. As ballast began to be dropped, leaving splashes in the water below, he started broadcasting.

"Morning NTC government. I think you just noticed what happened to those fighters. And now what is going to happen with your planes. I would so love to turn this into a game...but you see, the situation doesn't call for that."

The airship Weapons had begun locking on. 8 ULRSAMs had been prepared, and were now being readied for launch. As 8 similtaneous explosions of the booster stages firing rang through the airship, fuel rushed into combustions chambers: hydrogen peroxide mixed with pure ethanol, producing bright blue jets of flame that shot the missiles forward. They began spreading outwards.

"As you may or may not have noticed, we have commenced our attack. And just to liven things up a bit, Simon Says you can't land your planes any more."

More explosions rippled across the airship missile gondola as an angry swarm of Mayhem Air-Surface Missiles rocketed outwards: 16 in total, each aimed at a different airbase via GPS. While not exclusively designed to take out runways, a plane would find it very difficult to take off when the runways had craters in them.

"Now, I reckon you'll all start flying towards us, with the aim of taking us out of the sky. But, you see, we are heavily armed. Very. I think it was about 600 tonnes of munitions at the last count, not including of course the kinetic energy air-ground devices that we call a shipping crate laden with Nike trainers and clothes..."

The Citadel, Urbus Doomanus

"Situation?" Maximus querried upon walking into the conference room, at the center of which was a large holographic map of TNTC and Rhodes Island.

"The Proddies have declared war on Rhodes Island. Our guys in the field are telling us a third party took a shot at a few of their fighters, so they're baying for Catholic blood," replied Marius Doomanus Armaferus, Magister Militum of the Imperium and another of Maximus' brothers, handing the Imperator a dossier full of updated intel.

"General Ó Coileáin is requesting a full scale intervention, sire. He's certain the Puritans will invade," Gaius chimed in from across the table as Maximus took his seat.

Maximus was flipping through the pages of the dossier, and looked up at his brother, his face expressionless.

"Do it then," he slammed the dossier shut. "I will not tolerate heretics and schismatics attempting to bully our brothers and sisters. Marius, I'm giving you the green light to deploy what you feel is necessary for this."

"It will be done," replied the slightly younger man, who greatly resembled his older brother. It was fairly easy to distinguish them, however: Maximus had only one eye after his duel with Damien Dreadfire. "I can have troops on the ground in Rhodes Island in twelve hours."

"Excellent."

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Campus Sanctus Ricardus, Doomanum Inferior, Imperium Doomanum

Vexallatia Equitum XIII had already been on full alert, ready to embark their transport aircraft within an hour's notice. Their ACI.39P Bellicus transport gunships and Corvus attack helicopters had already been folded up and stored aboard their massive Explorer cargo planes, while the Legionarii sat in the scorching sun on the tarmac, chatting amongst one anothers, keeping themselves occupied with games of dice or cards, or by cleaning their rifles, more importantly keeping themselves hydrated. The voice of their commanding officer, Tribunus Prior Titus Calpurnius Ajax, crackled over the base's intercom:

"Attention all personnel. The Puritan government of the New True Cross has declared war on our allies in Rhodes Island. Caesar has ordered our immediate deployment to Rhodes Island in preparation for a possible invasion by schismatic forces," he paused for a moment as silence befell the base, the only thing that could be heard was the distant growling of helicopters and the roar of jet engines, "We're going to war, brothers! Mount your transports!" he barked, the entire Vexellatia taking to their feet and raising their rifles in the air, pounding their chests and roaring.

The last of that unit's cargo aircraft would be in the air within one hour. Also being deployed were three cohorts of combat engineers to allow for larger staging bases to be constructed in preparation for the influx of larger numbers of combat troops, as well as a cohort of Apostle III surface-to-air missile launchers and their attached RADAR vehicles and short range anti-aircraft systems. Three squadrons of Aquila-II multirole fighters had also been loaded onto transports in preparation for this deployment, although they would not be able to commence operations until a suitable base had been fabricated by the engineers, who would be arriving with the first wave of transports.

Meanwhile, a full mechanized corps, Corpus Mechanicus VII under Legatus Propraetoris Aulus Domitius Consus, was being prepped for transport to Rhodes Island. Attached to them was Legio Aerofucilus XXVII, the Twenty-Seventh Airborne Rifle Legion. To any outside observer, it would be clear that the Doomani were keeping their options open. An invasion of NTC was not out of the question in the slightest. Also being redirected towards NTC was Classis Interventus VII, a rapid response surface combatant fleet built around a pair of supercarriers with marine forces attached to leave open the option of an amphibious assault.

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ODIM Operations Center, Rhodes Island

ODIM's command center was nestled in one of the island's small towns, built out of one of the more promenant homes. Inside, it was packed with communications equipment and an armory. It was the central hub through which Doomani intellegence flowed on the island, and as a result an RIRA officer was always present to quickly recieve needed data, such as satellite photos and ELINT intercepts. A lesser well-known aspect of the operations center was a small room in the basement, which served as a fully functioning torture chamber. ODIM had actualy gone so far as to install one of their purpose-designed interrogation chairs inside of a room that had been converted into a decompression chamber, which also featured a one-way mirror.

ODIM's interrogation officer, Quintus Tutilus Adelus, had ordered the lowest ranking of the Divine Hospices into the chamber, where he was strapped into the seat, which looked more like the sort of table convicts are strapped into for lethal injection, complete with fixtures for the arms and legs. Several IV lines were hooked up to the prisoner's veins as well as various life monitoring systems, and Adelus took a seat at a table on the opposite side of the one-way mirror, looking into the now-sealed decompresion chamber. A laptop sat on the table, and he began selecting options on the program controlling the chamber. A fluid began to flow through the IV lines: a cocktail of drugs designed to render the victim extremely open to suggestion. The other two prisoners had been bound to wooden chairs against the wall in the same room as Adelus, several guards standing beside them.

"Can you hear me in there?" Adelus said into a microphone, which projected his voice over the chamber's intercom.

He dimmed the lights in the chamber until it was pitch black as the drugs coursed through the prisoner's veins. He next began tweaking the climate control system of the room, quickly plunging the temperature to just ten degrees farenheight.

"I'm going to need to ask you a few questions, alright?"

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The RIRA was now being fed a constant stream of data from ODIM from orbiting satellites that had been engaged in geo-syncronous orbit. The satellites featured both thermal and visual sensors as well as RADAR, allowing for them to pick up on incoming NTC aircraft. While the satellites were not accurate enough to provide firing solutions, they would grant the RIRA early warning as well as a good idea of where the attacks would be hitting, allowing for their air defenses to go to work as well as allowing their personnel to seek proper shelter.

ODIM and Manus Dei had suppled the RIRA with a vast sum of light anti-aircraft weaponry: shoulder-fired Acer (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=13248337&postcount=258) surface-to-air missiles were especially numerous, with well over two-thousand individual launchers being shipped to the island with an additional ten-thousand spare missiles, as well as the dreaded FANAT (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=13200123&postcount=225) gun system, an advanced towed anti-aircraft gun mounting a pair of double-barreled 37mm gast guns alongside a variety of advanced sensors (mostly passive systems, including a dual thermal imager/electro-optical tracking system coupled with a laser range finder to prevent the NTC aircraft from using SEAD aircraft effectively) and a superb fire control system. These guns, along with a number of short-range Animus surface-to-air missile (essentially a ruggedized, land-fired version of the TPMI/EC ATAIM-8 missile) launch systems mounted to the backs of pickup trucks were tied to high-powered compact X-band search and track RADARs mounted on trucks.

Manus Dei personnel had trained the RIRA crews of the guns and missile launchers extensively, and also served as RADAR operators and battery commanders. These Manus Dei Milites were veteran RADAR operators and anti-aircraft troopers from the Exercitus for the most part, and as a result had seen many of these systems used in combat before. They'd supervised the deployment of the weapons, deploying tripple-A and MANPADS operators to rooftops in built-up areas as well as concealing them in more rural areas (outside of the villages and towns, more often than not deployed to defend that village or town) along with the Animus launchers with camo netting. They were deployed as to allow for them to ambush incoming NTC aircraft, who would no doubt expect no resistance from the RIRA by itself. The NTC airforce would be in for a very nast surprise.

The sky to the north of the airship darkened with the jets. They flew down towards the airship with a vengeance. The led jets got firing solutions on the airship and warmed up their missile racks. Six missiles streaked off in the Alfegans direction.

Rhodes Island: The Hospice looked with a steeled over look. He was staring at the wall. "You fuckers will soon experience the full might of the NTC. You won't get anything out of me!"

(more to come, sorry been uber busy)

"Inbound missiles!"
"How many?"
"Six AAMs."
"They can honestly do better than that."

The airship point defence systems flicked online, loosing off a volley of rounds at the inbound missiles, whilst the countermeasures units began diverting missiles off course with their songs. Small explosions from the hailstorm units took out what missiles made it through the storm of purple rounds and invisible songs. A total of 6 diverted: 3 had been shot out of the sky, 1 taken out by a hailstorm active defence system, and the other two knocked off course long before.

"Hello NTC fighters: nice try. Shame about the failure. I'm guessing that those missiles cost you about... 300 thousand dollars? I could buy a house for that much. Not a luxurious one, but a nice one all the same. I guess that was a big oops."

He turned back to the weapons systems operator, a smile in her face. She had, all the time, been plotting every single inbound jet and allocating it a missile or so.
"So, NTC fighters, have you ever attacked by an airship? Now is your time to see a very basic airship tactic. It is called, well... is there term missile spam familiar with you? And no, you can't have it in your sandwichs."

The entirity of the airship side burst open in flames: a total of 60 missiles had just launched, a mix of Skysinger MRSAMs for the nearby targets and Rainbow LRSAMs for further afield. Each began to arch outwards, temporarily masking the airship in a massive cloud of smoke.

"Well, now we wait."

Interrogation

"Increasing drug dosage..." Adelus said aloud to those in the room with him.

This Divine Hospice guy was one resiliant motherfucker. By now he would start to get woozy; within a few minutes he'd barely know where he was. Until then however, Adelus would toy with him.

"That's fine, my friend..." he spoke into the microphone, his voice filling the small chamber.

As he spoke, he dragged a slider on the interrogation program on his laptop with the mouse, quickly and drastically increasing the air pressure in the room. Within seconds the man's ears because to bleed and his eardrums came close to bursting before Adelus, just as quickly, turned the pressure down, which would cause further pain.

OOC: Does the carrier need to leave again?

The Hospice's world became lucid as he slipped from the reality that he had inhabited and went into a place where he could be alone and think. He resisted the drugs as long as he could. He concentrated on each blood vessel. He visualized them closing off as the drugs pumped through them. When they finally took hold of his system he had totally shut down. His eyes glossed over. He began to gnaw on his tongue. As the blood filled his mouth he waited till it was to much then swallowed it. Pretty soon he would start to vomit and that would get rid of the drugs, to some extent.

52 of the 60 missiles hit their mark. Even with evasive maneuvers and chaff there were so many jets that the missiles couldn't miss. Some of the the planes turned back and they either skillfully missed the holes in the runways or became a simmering inferno of jet fuel. The others stayed but maintained a patrol pattern over Fort Boston, far beyond the reach of the airship's missiles.

"It seems as if you have finally listened. Now while you lick your wounds out of our RADAR range, consider what will be happening when we go on the offensive. That is when you will truly suffer. Of course, you all know the other option for escape from this, but that is unthinkable for the meantime."

The Captain sucked the tip of a pen as he switched the TV back on.

"Don't worry: they'll be flying over there until they figure out what to do. That'll be when we turn of the TV. Though since they have no ground-defence weapons, we have the advantage for now."

He stood out, stretching his arms, burshing against the blue plastic ceiling, dark wire mesh embedded into it. Nice and warm for the meantime.

OOC: Does the carrier need to leave again?

OOC: No, but depending on how long the conflict drags on it may need to be supplied by more incoming ships. The MDC intends to take back any leased usable merchandise after this is all settled.

OOC: No, but depending on how long the conflict drags on it may need to be supplied by more incoming ships. The MDC intends to take back any leased usable merchandise after this is all settled.

Nice. waiting for dooms response

OOC:Oh fuck I'm so sorry guys I totally forgot about this...I'll get a post up tommorow...

ok this is dead let us leave it in peace, it was fun while it lasted