NationStates Jolt Archive

Off the Coast of Agroprom
North Uyakan Island

Mikka Arinen had walked his dog on this stretch of golden sand every day for the last twenty years. A lot had changed over those years. He had been out in howling gales, thick snow, and the warmest temperatures known to Agroprom. He had seen the rise and fall of three seperate Nationstates, and he had seen the rise and fall of the islands brilliance. Once a hot tourist destination, now it was demoted to an agricultural hot spot - he had been a farmer since the age of 19, and knew the tourism wouldn't last. Though he had given in to one thing - the growth of rape speed, that awful new crop from Europe.

And despite his years, he had no idea what would come soon. Young, politically minded members of the islands community said the state of Agroprom was here to stay - it would soon be a regional power, they say, a force for good in the world. Then again, they had said that about Kazakhstania and Czechistania before, and look where that ended up. They had seized his farm, ruined his crop, and then given it back again when the new regime decided they were nice to their people. But it wasn't a regime, no, "Peoples Democracy".

Needless to say, he was happy with his part of the island. It was beautiful - a gorgeous old church, golden sands, nice people. Even the local garrison were friendly - they were the best source of up to date newspapers and electronics on the whole north of the island. He'd managed to get a small Rijeka old school TV, good enough for him. Unfortunately, he could only get two channels, one of which seemed to play "Strictly Come Breakdancing" all the time. And with his aged hips, he didn't fancy doing a headspin.

http://www.luminous-landscape.com/images/California_Coastline_-_thumb.JPG

Kirnyeva Coastal Battery
Main Control Room

"Ivan, this is Calculus, any news?"
"Calculus, this is Ivan, that whales back. Peter keeps trying to target it with the 30 Mike but its out of range. Thats mans obsessed."
"Ivan, Calculus, keep up the good work. Our nations finest, dear god....Out."

Captain Reschev put down the radio and drank some more coffee. It was still too early in the morning and not even a freighter had gone past yet. Some days were busy, some were quiet. The quiet days were the worst. The Agroprom Navy made a point of sending all its Officers on a 3 month assignment to a static active post before putting them behind a desk or on a ship. This was mainly because no-one else wanted to do it. This made the posts over staffed and underworked, but hey, it was experience.

At least he had a good book. Early morning TV was the worst - old re-runs of "Strictly Come Breakdancing." I mean seriously, who watched those shows? There wasn't much else to do - he'd rotate the posts later, and maybe go on a rifle patrol - the outdoors was better than staring at a scanner screen all day. You never know, something might happen today.

OOC:

Ok, I don't know how you wan't to do this, but your ship should probably get technical problems and get quite close to the coast. We'll, of course, radio, but there should probably be problems with that as well.

Use your imagination =P Roma V, you can be involved later, aye.

OOC: I'll keep an eye on this thread. If it starts to get too quiet before my main role comes in i'll throw in a post to keep the wheels spinning.

OOC:

So what exactly is Roma V's role here?

IC:

Frigate S.F.F. Oredent


The Oredent was a frigate of the Sanschen-Class, and was keeping up it's end of the stick of being part of one the world's greatest naval powers, on patrol in international waters.
Antigrans being derived from Western European, Asian, but mostly Swedish stock, families had seen empires come and go, experienced their share of madness. And it would happen again.

For in the following days, weeks, and maybe months, this experience, certainly everybody's nerve, would be put to the test, testing the wits and responses of various nations from over the world - the crew didn't know this, nor did anyone else.

In the navigational room, Lieutenant Bjorklund was on watch, and, like their land-based equivalents from Agroprom, was sitting, staring at a screen, bored. See the world, they said. Adventure, they said.

The jumped up as two red lights began flashing next to him, and an alarm sounded. He knew what this meant.

"Shit. Switch to backup systems, then get away from anything electronic!"

His colleagues leapt up moments before an electrical surge, stronger than the capacity of the expensive Gallium Arsenide supposedly EMP-proof wiring, overwhelmed the surge protectors and destroyed the system. But, that was repairable. Like most modern Antigran warships, it had an equally-capable backup in the same room.

Such was the force, however, that smoke erupted from inside a fuse-box and a fire started, spreading quickly to the other machines.

"Fire! Clear out!"

Bjorklund ran out, through the doorway, through the bulkhead door.
Meanwhile, the fire alarm began to sound.

In a matter of under a minute, fire surpression had taken it's effect - had to be manually activated in such an important and vunerable-to-water room as the Navigation cockpit - and damage control teams were in, hoses ready.

Ten minutes later, and after much drama, the fire was out and the rest of the ship was, it seemed, unaffected.
They had lost all navigational control right after coming out of navigating a sandbank. They had lost all bearing.
In a standard situation, they'd have radioed command and got a backup sattelite uplink to the mainframe computer, but the main radio equipment was housed in the Navigations room, destroyed.
The captain didn't know how to use a sextant.

'Who knows, something might happen today'

OOC: My role is to lend aid to Agroprom. ICly my explanation would be that to secure an alliance between Roma V and Agroprom we send our army in to help. For now, I simply remain an observer.

Kirnyeva Coastal Battery
Main Control Room

Blip. Blip. Blip. That monotonous tone, as the radar scans over the same target again and again. Apparently, the blip changed depending on how big the ship was. It sounded all the same to the Captain. He leaned over and took a look at the scanning screen, and shook the mouse to type up the report on the computer.

<FGT>
<SANSCHEN-CLASS>

That was odd. It was the short range radar that picked it up, which meant the Frigate was obviously radar resistant. Furthermore short range meant just that - in Agroprom waters. Typical timing as well, he'd just got to be bit in the book where the murderer was about to be revealed.... Reschev hit the alarm and picked up the big red phone. He was told never to touch the thing, and here he was, using it.

"Reschev for the Commandant, please."
"Can I have your priority please, sir?"
"Uhhhh....orange?"
"I'll put you right through."

God, callcentres had even invaded the military.

"Koln for Reschev. Speak."
"Bit of a situation down here, sir. Unidentified vessel in our waters, under the radar, heading on a bearing of....um....197. Thats right towards the sub base at Letensk."
"I'll be right over. Radio them for response, and get 5 Squadron on the horn."
"Roger that, sir."

He put the phone back down and folded his book. Looked to be quite an interesting afternoon, after all. The bank of lights to his right told him that everyone was at battle stations - Lieutenant Melnev and his Corporal should be back from their rifle patrol any time now. He picked up the long range radio transmitter on the desk, and dialled in a universal frequency.

"Unidentified vessel, please state nation of origin, course and intent."

Little did he know, he wasn't likely to get a reply. See the world, they said. Adventure, they said.

AVB Sharnokyl
Home of 2 and 5 Squadrons

The two Su-25KM aircraft were up and off within 5 minutes. The pilots had, true to form, been halfway through lunch, and pilot Aviation Colonel Petrich was beginning to feel having the egg mayo baguette may have been a bad idea. As the two aircraft banked around to the north towards the coast, he could feel it ricocheting around his stomach. Oh god....

OOC:

It won't be anything major, don't worry Antigr, I haven't left anything out. Just a small military force, like a battalion or something.

OOC:

Heh. I take it a five minutes for a short crappy post won't get me a reputation.

IC:

The ship still had backup short-range independent radar on the bridge, and it was this that added to the sense of total panic, as two small dots, next to each other, appeared on the screen and began closing in fast.

Probably neutral - but they had no radio equipment and IFF wasn't working that well.
The captain had no choice, it seemed.

"General Quarters! General Quarters! Battle stations! Unidentified aircraft closing on starboard-bow quarter!"

Klaxons began to sound.

OOC: Of course not, we all have to make do sometimes =)

IC:

Closing in on the Oredent
Eighteen Miles Off Shore

"Two, Water spike, 12 o'clock."
"One, ECM On, widen the formation. Do a couple of recon passes and then wheel around to high level."
"Two, roger that, Music on."

Flying along at 2,000 feet strapped to twenty million Dollars worth of weapon towards a possibly hostile ship of unknown combat strength. Petrich should have at least finished the damn baguette, it may have been his last one. He flicked the ECM on and flicked on the weapons panel. He had a variety of bombs and missiles at his disposal - hopefully they'd be uneeded. The most vital component of the arsenal right now was the electronic target pod slung under the right wing.

With a quick glance to see where his wingman was, he flicked on the electronic targeting. It provided a zoomed in optical, thermal and radar picture of the target. As they closed in on the ship, he adjusted it to the point where he could make out the individual windows on the ship. And god there were a lot of guns.

"Araknid this is Volk, definately combat armed. I'm making....three plus missile sets, possibly long range. Two or more short range cannons, can't make out an accurate type at this range, over."
"Roger that, continue with the pass. Use caution - it's been floating around out there for days, an AWAC's from Rostok logged it last week, over."
"Ok doke, making a low pass."

The two Sukhoi's swept down to low level and turned up the heat. Moving at close to 600km/h, they flashed right over the Oredent, taking a cross section of the vessel with the camera to see what was going on.

"Alarm, Danger, Alarm, Danger, Radar Lock, 6 O'Clock, Danger" announced a strangely friendly female voice.
"One, puff smoke and evade, we're locked."
"Two, roger."

The camera had shown the ship was at battle stations and had a targetting radar lock on the pair. Normal ships just wouldn't do that....the lead aircraft banked left and high, puffing out chaff and flares as it rolled. The wingman dived to the right, down to super low level, its flares barely lighting before they went into the water. And as the Aviation Colonel rolled to the left, he saw something that would change the course of things to come.

It was in fact the glass on the end of the targetting scope used by one of the ships larger cannons. But in the morning sunlight at 250 feet, as the suns rays caught it at a perfect angle for a split second, it flashed like a gunshot.

"SHIT! Evade, shots fired from the starboard side, get outta there!"
"Two, roger." came the panicked reply.
"Araknid, Volk, engaged and locked close range. Permission to engage?"
"Make the thing go down faster than the Titanic. You have incoming support from Rostok, an AWAC's from Rostok and the Missile Battery at Kirnyeva."
"Roger. Two, move out 5 clicks, high Immelman and lock two LGB's. I'm going high right, painting the bridge. Following this, bank high left, paint the waterline and I'll roll in. Any questions?"
"Roger, two."

A frigate, by standard doctrine the Oredent would have 2 tri-30mm cannon CIWS mounts. Hopefully enough.

The main twin 4-inch gun turret swung upwards as the aircraft began attacking maneuvers, and fired off two anti-aircraft rounds.
The point-defence rapid-fire SAMs got 'second lock', a 'make-sure' design feature, and sent two SAMs towards each plane.
Heat-seeking missiles human-controllable from the ship, they shouldn't miss, even under manual control.

First Shorts Fired
Over the Oredent

Usually, AA shells fired by 4 inch guns are designed to travel a set distance and then exploding, pulverising a target with shrapnel. Thus, a dead on hit was not necessary. This feature was not needed, however. Flight Captain Gergerov, a twenty six year old pilot from Rostok, Agroprom, was killed almost instantly as the 4 inch shell connected with the rear of the Su-25. Fragments took the rear elevators clean off, and shrapnel punctured the main engine fuel lines. This sprayed high pressure aviation fuel all over hot engine components - the aircraft exploded in a shower on pieces.

Petrich saw this unfolding from a distance of about 4 miles. The fireball met the ocean with a mighty splash, and then all there was floating pieces. And no parachute. He felt sick. Unleashing a torrent of flares, he rolled down to the ocean floor. He was aware that there were missiles inbound on him - hitting the deck should evade them. Right enough, they both sailed over his head - volley fire was, fortunately, not the best AA tactic. Once at around ten feet above sea level, he marked the frigate with his laser target designator. The picture of the Oredent was locked on his screen.

"Araknid, Volk, coastal batterys fire......wingman....engaging." A broken message, but it would do.

At about three miles and in a shower of flak, he pulled up and released his two 1,000 pound Laser Guided Bombs, using a technique known as Toss Bombing. The weapons arced through the air like artillery shells, locking onto the laser marker on the ships deck. As the Su-25 rolled away, it lost the lock, but it was trivial now. The LGB's remembered the point of impact, and continued on their downward course, hopefully into the bridge area of the Oredent.

As he pulled away at something approaching 8G, a string of shells punctured the underside of Petrich's aircraft. Warning lights informed him he had an undercarriage malfunction and a damaged wing fuel tank. He jettisoned all weapons and fuel tanks, and went to low level once more. He could see tracers whizzing past him - hopefully he'd live this one out.

Kirnyeva Coastal Battery
Main Control Room

"Calculus, Araknid, Fire Fire Fire!"

God, was that unexpected. The control room was now fully crewed, and all they were waiting on was a lock from the Frigate twenty two miles distant. A cross int he target box would indicate.....there it was. Sweat dripping from his brow, Reschev flicked back the shield over the fire button, and pressed it twice.

From a firing rack a hundred metres from the control centre, two SS-N-22 Sunburn missiles leapt forth from their containers, and accelerated to something around Mach 5. Their target was the Frigate Oredent, a vessel neither Reschev or his crew had ever seen. And, hopefully, would never see. There were another ten missiles waiting, if needs be....

OOC:

Standard legal practice is territorial waters of 20 miles from land mass. You can make your claims, but by international law, people can ignore that and stick to default 20 miles.
Just thought I'd let you know.
Oh, and if you're American, then maybe this would be time to tell you that this is a frigate by international definition (i.e. smaller than a destroyer) rather than american definition (i.e. bigger than a destroyer)

IC:

However much they were loved, CIWS systems were more of a chance thing.
Gun systems were unguided and sometimes had no effect on the incoming threat, while Rolling Airframe Missile CIWSs weren't perfect either.

For the crew of the Oredent, luck wasn't running their way.
Main radar unoperable, the CIWS systems had to use their built-in backup with assistance from the fire-control radar, the former precisely that, a backup, and the latter wasn't optimised for fast-happening CIWS engagements.

At over a mile, the systems engaged, each of the two mounts' triple-30mm guns spitting out shells at 4050rpm.
The bomb was destroyed just 50 metres from the ship, and a 1000-pound bomb would have considerable effect.

Shrapnel flew everywhere, killing 7 seamen outright and wounding another three.
The glass on the bridge and in some of the portholes shattered, spraying glass everywhere, wounding another five, severing one man's ear clean away from his head.

The SS-N-22s screamed towards the ship.
Approaching from the rear, only the aft CIWS mount was able to bring to bear and did a bad job.
Both missiles hit, one destroying the hangar and detonating the rear VLS load, the other blowing the starboard side clean off.
The Oredent began to sink, most of it's crew dead.

Of it's entire crew, only seven would survive.
For the first time that day, the first four had a stroke of luck.
The shock from the blasts blew the port lifeboat off it's cradle and it landed in the sea, undamaged except for shattered windows and some shrapnel holes.

Lieutenant Cronström, First Officer, was on the port side of the bridge and it was the first blast that shattered the bridge into pieces. As he had fallen towards the deck, the second blast powered him out forward, away from the ship altogether.
The other three, a petty officer and two seamen, had been at the bows of the ship, operating a shoulder-launched SAM that they never managed to fire in time.

The other three had a similar fate and were in a liferaft, rescued from it's canister which was blown overboard.
The lifeboat approached, and, using the supplies in the boat, they threw a line to tow the liferaft behind them.
With one of the seamen at the helm of the lifeboat's outboard, they began to follow a compass bearing.
They should encounter a destroyer soon, with more luck, the S.F.F. Hackzell, a ship which had, according to the first officer, been seventeen miles from the Oredent seven hours ago.

OOC 2:

Can these guys survive?
Need some way of raising the alarm.

OOC:

Yeah sure, I was expecting more to survive! Oh well, at least the ship went down - there are far too many NSers these days who refuse to post losses. This should be enjoyable.

I'm British, for general information, so yeah, that definition of the Frigate applies to me. Sanschen Class is a new German Frigate as well, isn't it? Also, the coastal battery was about half a mile inland and was firing at a slight angle to the Frigate, so the Frigate would be in Agroprom waters, just.

IC:

Kirnyeva Coastal Battery
Main Control Room

"Two clean hits, sir."
"Good job. God knows what that Frigate was doing - post a new warning and stay at battle stations."
"Aye, sir."

Well, at least the missiles did their job, and the Frigate had disappeared from radar pretty quick.

"Araknid this is Calculus, ship hit and sunk. Requesting orders."
"Roger, stay at battle stations and await support from Rostok. Out."

Petrich's Su-25

It was about ten minutes before the engines began to burn out, first the left and then the right. Deafening alarms filled the cockpit, as did the smell of fuel and thick acrid smoke. The Aviation Colonel was just concious when he pulled the ejection lever. Smashing through while under a load of about 22g, the aircaft more or less disintegrated under him - the ejection seat flame lit the fuel leaking into the cockpit, causing a fireball that shredded the whole aircraft.

Petrich sustained light burns to his legs, but he was too busy to notice - tumbling through the air at just under the speed of sound. His parachute deployed a mere 250 feet above the ground. Barely had time to survey the ground below him before a tree floated past him and he landed. Instinctively rolling, he yelped in pain as his burned legs touched his flying suit. But he was alive. A quick glance revealed that his loacter was still attatched to him and on, and the aircraft had come to a firey wreck about half a mile away. It wouldn't be long before he was found.

Over the Coast of Agroprom
Around 29,281 feet

Air General Mikoyan peered at the radar screen in the back of the AWAC's. As confirmed earlier, the Oredent had been sunk in dramatic fashion - one minute it was there, the next it was gone. However, something more interesting had appeared. Forty miles offshore sat the Hackzell, a Destroyer of the Antigr navy. This had been reported back to the Northern HQ, and observation had to be put on the ship 24 / 7. Other than that, they had no orders.

A print out was handed to him, a recon report from ten minutes previously. Another Su-25 from Sharnokyl had done a low pass over the combat area - nothing but flaming bits of wreckage and some debris. No survivors and no lifeboats. Which just didn't happen. Common senes dictated they had mae a run for the Hackzell, which meant this was about to get interesting...

OOC:

The german vessel in Saschen, without the N.
I wanted to add two dots over the A to make it more unique, but I forgot where Microsoft's symbol thingymabob is.
I'm sure more would have survived if the missiles hadn't detonated the entire rear VLS load, which may be slightly noticeable if you're nearby.

I see no RPable events until the men are picked up, so can we do a timeskip? Say, 24-48 hours?

Antigr's denonym is 'Antigran', and if you're one for big titles, it's Royal Antigran Navy.

OOC:

That is also true, that might hurt a little. Ah well, whats done is done. And I'll keep the reference titles to mind.

That sounds like an idea. It is your reaction I am waiting for, so if you just want to come up with something political or military to retaliate with, thats fine. I think the start worked out quite well - we both have reasons to be angry at the other nation, and there was no clear agrivator, so its fine. Just waiting for you, bud.

Ärensen-Class Destroyer S.F.F. Hackzell


"Sir, we're picking up an EPIRB beacon!"

"EPIRB? A rescue beacon?"

"Yes, Lieutenant"

"What type?"

"One of ours, Sir. Navy standard issue"

The Hackzell's Captain arrived two minutes later and the situation was explained.

"Right, then. Send out a launch"

---

Lieutenant Cronström and the other survivors looked up and dropped the dried emergency rations they were eating as a buzzing sound loudened.
The outboard on the lifeboat had cut out, and the spare fuel cans were already empty.
However, the Petty Officer and found some EPIRBs - universally-used rescue beacons - and activated them.

One of the Hackzell's motor launches appeared and some of the survivors yelled to them.

They changed direction slightly, and headed towards them, an Ensign throwing them a line as the launch slowed.
Seeing the burns and singed hair, he began the expected wave of questions.

"What the hell - "

"Long story"

---

"So, you lost course and were attacked by hostile forces.
Any idea who?"

"No, we..."

The Petty Officer butted in.

"I-I took a course in Aircraft recognition - if memory serves, the colours on those craft were Agroprom Air Force insignia. We were near Agroprom waters when the fire happened...it makes sense"

"This is just an act of war. Open fire on a ship that's half-crippled and lost course just because it may have entered territorial waters? Disgusting.

Lieutenant, take a message to command! They want war, they'll get war"

---

S.F.F. Dendermanland, Franzburg-Class SSN


"Alter course three-two-seven, both turbines Full Ahead Together! Periscope depth, Snorkel, Periscope, Communications, and Radar masts up!"

Boomed the Captain.
They were off the northern coast of Hurtful Thoughts, and part of the 3rd Oceanic Fleet being dispatched to Agroprom so as to retaliate.

Off the ship's port bow not a kilometre away was the Marksland, a heavy cruiser, and off to her bow another few kilometres west was the light carrier Håntsen.

Behind them was a fleet carrier and three destroyers, and a submarine flotilla was being dispatched from exercises off the Northern Antigran coast.

More warships were leaving docks the Captain spoke, and in the fleet was a Battlecruiser, sporting 15-inch guns and ICBMs.

Agroprom Forces High Command
Grand Admiral Shalke's Office

"So, lets come to a conclusion on this one, Admiral Netsky took it upon himself to destroy a naval vessel, under questionable curcumstances, of a fleet FIFTY TIMES larger than our own?!"
"Yes, sir. But they did fire first...."
"Yes, but that is irrelevant. The survivors from the ship aren't going to admit that, and now we have a nation of 4 BILLION people wanting revenge. Maybe we can convince them, with time, that it was not us that started to conflict. But thats the Premiers job. Get me the combat report."

The report itself was grim reading, as could be seen in the Grand Admiral's wrinkled forehead and the sweat on his brow. Two aircraft lost, with one casualty outright, and an estimated 230 enemy casulties. An EPIRB had been detected several hours later by an AWAC's from Rostok, which had then merged with the destroyer Hackzell. Which meant there were survivors, and thus retaliation would not be long.

Evidence of this was already in. The Grand Admiral's desk was covered in paperwork, and one of these bits of paper included a photo of a large Antigran fleet leaving port some hours earlier. The photo was available in several scales, and had been taken by a spy satellite, the SZZ-001, that passed over Hurtful Thoughts and Antigr earlier in the day. Intel confirmed it was of the 3rd Oceanic Fleet, a powerful Antigran armada. A folder containing an order of battle confirmed that it was, all together, more powerful than the entire Agroprom Armed Forces combined.

He had only one choice. Beg the Premier to start a peace pledge, order the Premier to mobilise, and get his comrades in the Air Force and Navy to agree with him. He picked up the phone to talk to Field Marshal Dietzl of the Army.

"CAPTAIN! GET ME A COFFEE A DANISH AND ADMIRAL MARKS, HELP YOU GOD."

Agroprom Foreign Ministry

For the usually most quiet, serene Ministry, today was a day of chaos. No-one was quite sure what to do, who to phone or email, and which god they should be praying to. The military were saying it wasn't their fault, that they were shot at first - the lawyers were saying it didn't matter, they should have waited, and the politicians were hiding their asses because it was about to blow up in their face.

No-one had yet messaged the Antigran foreign office, and no-one really wanted to - to do so would be to admit it happened, and they couldn't say they'd seen the fleet because spy satellites were a dodgy topic. Not even the media knew yet - as far as they were concerned, an aircraft had just crashed on a routine mission. Nothing wrong there.

For now, contingency plans were being made, it was all organisation, and then everyone would just wait.

Agroprom
Two hours Later

As of this date and time, the armed forces of Agroprom haave been put to Amber alert, all Amber reserve forces are being mobilised, and all fortifications and defensive measures are being activated and armed.

This involves some 42 Air Squadrons, 52 AA and Coastal Batteries and 12 Land Divisions.

3rd Oceanic Fleet


The fleet was making good time - already fairly near Agroprom waters, and the submarine Dendermanland was already nearing the Hackzell's position, and preparing to surface for a very brief 'hello'.

The 1st Oceanic fleet, based near Auston, and the Grand Fleet, based in the Darrel Straights in central Antigr, were on a 72-hour standby and assorted forces, 1 in every 2 ships, from a 400-mile radius were responding to the call.

In Command was one of Antigr's most trusted Admirals, Jägerhon, and all the ships were packing heat under the parka.
This would indeed be intersting.

OOC:

Oops...I make the next move?

IC:

The Dendermanland's sail broke the water, surfacing slowly and almost perfectly horizontally.
The Captain was quick on deck and yelled out;

"Hello!"

It seemed the Antigrans had encountered little resistance so far, except of course for the loss of the Oredent.
The Captain knew that the fleet would soon fire off a 'little' payback.
Nothing to do now.
It certainly was spooky, though.

Where the bloody hell are those fools?

OOC: Sorry, had a Physics project due. I've been busy and running on coffee for the last few days =P

IC:

10 Miles Inland
The Northern Coast of Agroprom

What before had been a small forward base for army exercises was now a bustling command post, full of tents, people and armored vehicles. It was now acting as a forward post of the 3rd Infantary Division, who were moving into the area to garrison the coast. They were part of the nationwide mobilisation - no-one quite knew what was going on yet, it just seemed like some form of huge exercise.

The media had picked up the scent though, and General Gatovski had not been able to shake them off all day. His Press Liason officer was being flown in later that day - god did he need him more than ever. Politicians were constantly on the phone as well, asking how much this was costing, were they ready yet and what the bloody hell they were doing. No-one seemed to know what was going on.

Which was, unbeknownst to him, how it was all planned in the first place. If the hint of war hit the air, general panic would be in the air very quickly. This region was just recently stabilised - they did not need this now.

North Uyakan Island
Off the Coast of Agroprom

There had been a change, recently, mused Mikka Arinen. He was walking his dog the other day when an Army helicopter went overhead - the last time there were helicopters on this island was during the civil war, forty years ago. The Army post up the road was more busy as well - a few armored vehicles had arrived, including a tank. A tank! That certainly was unusual on this island.

Petrov from Gebask, the main town, had noticed something unusual as well. The small airstrip on the island, usually used only by small jets and propellor planes, was now home to an entire helicopter squadron. The town square was also a bustling centre of military activity. What the hell was happening on this island? Were we at war?

AWAC's Aircraft Okoba
Above the North Agroprom Coast

They had been circling for hours, more or less non stop for the last week. And between directing fighter, helicopter and local airspace traffic, they were pretty busy. The Hackzell had been a nuisance as well - it's crew were obviously skilled, as they were tricky buggers to track, only revealing their position when they absolutely had to. All seen through the screen of a scope. However, something new had just happened that was likely to change everything.

"Flight Colonel, surface contact, bearing 341, fifty miles. Small - probably a nuclear sub, just surfaced."
"Roger, sergeant. Comms! Radio Gertyeba Coastal Battery, give them targetting information. Sergeant, track that sub. Get me command on the horn, as well. Comms Liason, radio Rostok, get us some 142's (OOC: reference to the Tu-142MR, an Anti Submarine Aircraft) and turn onto the coast. Any questions? None, good, get on it!"

S.R.F. Hackzell


The Hackzell's radar suite was more capable than the small retractable mast of a submarine.

The Lieutenant manning the screens jumped out of his seat and picked up a handheld radio.

"Hackzell to sub, Hackzell to sub, picking up unidentified aircraft, bearing three-one-two.
Advise you submerge, repeat, advise you submerge, out!"


Fleet Carrier S.R.F. Mäckben


The Mäckben was a fleet carrier, holding 80 aircraft and extensive weaponry, at least for a ship carrying aircraft.

She was not able to keep up with the 37-knot submerged flank-ahead speed of the submarine, and, at over 308 metres in length, she was larger, too.

On her right flank was another submarine, and she was preparing to launch a first air sortie, mainly patrol and defence if neccessary, consisting mainly of the DD80 'Förtrupp' (Vanguard) lightweight multirole fighters, maybe not the most heavily armed but one of the lightest and maneuverable around.

To her left was a cruiser, and all around her was the rest of the escort group.
The first fighter took off, followed a few seconds later by another from the other catapult.

AWAC's Aircraft Okoba
Above the North Agroprom Coast

Everything was getting busy all at once. A destroyer, a submarine and now two aerial contacts rising fast.

"Colonel, two aircraft rising fast. The computer says fighter, probably DD80 fighters," confirmed one of the Fighter Controllers.
"Ok, that confirms the arrival of the fleet from Hurtful Thoughts," replied the Colonel.
"The sub's going down fast! And we're getting some scrambled radio traffic from the Destroyer."
"Roger that. Comms, get me HQ, find out where the Bears are and get us some fighter support."
"Roger, Sir!"

The AWAC's was more or less directly over the coast now and cruising steadily south. It would be another three hours before the aircraft was replaced on station - it was going to be a long day.

AVB Rostok
Runway 05

The airfield had been furiously busy for the last week. Reserves were being activated, supplies and aircraft transported - 18 Squadron had been flying munitions and equipment from AVB Atryau for over a week. 8 Squadron had transferred in from AVB Igla, and 5 and 6 Squadrons reserves had merged to form 237 Squadron, who were currently setting up at the far side of the airfield. An extra Ground Defense Squadron had been flown in, and a ground Division were using the comms equipment as a centre of command.

On the runway at that exact time, four Su-30MKI long range fighters were sitting doing take off checks. The first two starting rolling, followed by the second two. As they reached the air, they turned to the north, where they would link up with AWAC's Okoba. It was to be a long vigil.

North Agroprom Coast
Just South of Uyakan Island, on the Mainland

From a distance, you couldn't really see much on that idyllic hillside. The occasional plume of dust or smoke, the flash of a gunsight. Even from above, tree's and hedges blocked the eyes vision. Up close, however, the truth became apparent. Trenches had been dug, firing positions made out of logs and timber, ammo dumps dug into the earth. A full brigade had set up positions there, a thousand men.

A few miles further south, a variety of mortar and rear positions had also been constructed. Even further, artillery and rocket positions were created. The shoot and scoot tactic was going to be used - hundreds of positions had been constructed and stocked with supplies. The troops were well fortified. Another brigade was being posted to the island itself the next day, along with some armoured elements. Similar scenes were occuring all along the coast - the Agroprom Army was preparing.

OOC:

I assume your planes have IFF sounders as most do now, however as I am merely assuming I'd be happy to revise later. Forgive me for any mistake.

IC:

"Kilo Flight, Kilo Actual, confirm status, over"

"Kilo One, Combat Ready, over"

"Kilo Two, Combat Ready, over"

"Kilo Three, Combat Ready, over"

"Kilo Four, Combat Ready, over"

"Kilo Actual, Roger that. Standard formation, Kilo Two on point, over. Assume patrol and enemy aerial patrols, fire when confirmed, over"

"Kilo Three, picking up unidentified aircraft from mainland area, on our two, over"

"Kilo Four, ditto, over"

"Kilo Two, same here, over"

The five Förtruppen swung round to their two-o'-clock positions, still in formation, and lit their afterburners.

"Kilo Actual, Kilo Flight, possible Hostile, possible Hostile, going for intercept. Split up! Over"

"Kilo Flight, this is Bravo Flight, joining the chase. Coming up on your seven, over!

The DD80s were fast and could out-maneuver pretty much all their heavier, perhaps better-armed counterparts, with few exceptions. Hopefully, this would come to their aid.

OOC:

The IFF is off, as per combat conditions, but they are fairly big fighters so a semi decent radar would be able to notice them anyway. No problem.

IC:

Inland Over Agroprom

The Su-30's had formed a wedge formation and were coasting north when their thread indicators informed them of a variety of radar contacts.

"Two, two plus threats eighty miles north. Targeting radars."
"One, confirmed. ROE states no advanced contacts."
"Two, uhh, roger."

The AWAC's noticed the contacts rolling in too. Things were turning ugly fast.

"Uh, Magic, hold your position inland. We're scrambling fighters from Rostok and Atryau, you'll have another twelve aircraft airborne in less than ten. Do not, I repeat, do not advance. You wait over the land for support, and you'll have AAA and SAM support as well. Radar from Uyakan and Rostok will be illuminating in three. Understand, over?"
"Roger, racetrack pattern grid Juliet Kilo three nine."

AVB Atryau
Runway 23

Atryau, like every other Air Force base was a hive of activity. This day was like no other, except on this occasion, there was a scramble caused. Alarm's went off, men ran, and aircraft roared. Two minutes later, four Su-27P aircraft of 2 Squadron blasted off down the runway and soared into the air. 2 Squadron was known all over as the premier Agroprom Air Defense squadron - tours of duty all over the world, the most advanced training techniques in the nation, and links to squadrons all over the world.

This was shown by their distinctive insignia and paintjob. Instead of the traditional Agroprom sky blue and grey, they were painted in dazzle camoflage like on ships, and had the insignia of a burning pheonix - a symbol of their spirit, and the ongoing spirit on the enemies they have shot down.

"Kilo Flight, systems confirm; they're Hostiles. No friendlies in area or anywhere near except for Fox Flight twelve miles back.
Going for intercept, arm weapons"

The flight commander flicked a switch that would ready the missiles - there were hardpoints, only two of them underwing, both occupied by fuel tanks.
With two long-range AAMs on the wingtips and a plentiful supply of short-to-medium range weapons under the fuselage, Kilo flight was going in. The distance to the enemy forces was decreasing rapidly, and, with Fox Flight included, they were fifteen-strong, with another ten available.

If need be, they would retreat back to the fleet and take cover under the AA fire.

Inland Over Agroprom

"Flight, fifty miles and closing. They are going for intercept."
"Two, ready."
"Three, ready."
"Four, ready."
"Arm missiles, paint your targets, left to right respectively. I'm reading fifteen on radar - we have Pheonix coming up on our right, strength four."
"Four, got a lock."
"Roger. At forty miles, engage your alloted targets. I'm going to get on the horn to Air Defense Command."

Air Defense Battery 241
Command Post

In the blacked out room, a red light rotated to tell all inside this was a combat situation. Which it was surely soon to be.

The Agroprom Air Defense netwrok was nicknamed the Tri-color, with three defensive rings of defense. One was at the coast, consisting of short range SAM's. Then, further inland, medium range SAM's. Finally, inland and around the major cities, long range SAM's to take out aircraft and ICBM's. 241 was a long range SAM network, and housed he central command unit. It was commanded by a 37 year old Army Colonel, Colonel Brewitz. He was sweating buckets in the room, and felt the pressure of this engagement closing.

Outside the command box, the huge S-400 erector launcher was being raised. The radar had just been turned on, and would be filling the enemy aircraft with warnings. They were just over the coast, and so would have to contend with MANPAD's on the way out, too. The medium range SAM's were being saved until later. The first missile got a lock, and fired.

The S-300 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/S-400) is a huge missile, capable of taking out ICBM's right down to small scale fighters. Which, Brewitz hoped, included the DD80. It blasted out the launcher, fired up its first stage and looped away to its target. Shortly afterwards, a second, third and a fourth missile were fired. The rest were being held in reserve.

Pheonix Flight

"241 Fired, four missiles tracking to targets. Magic is locking but not yet fired. We have two radar's painting the targets for us - no problem for locks."
"Two, ready."
"Three, ready."
"Four, ready."
"Pick your targets right to left, and on my mark, engage.....engage."

Each Su-30MKI fired two R-77 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vympel_R-77) air to air missiles, and then went full power and climbed. It was likely they would need the height - standard operating height for intercept was 30,000 feet, they were currently only at 15,000. They needed all the power their massive Al-31FP turbofans could muster.

A red light on one of the three large multifunctional displays that dominated the Förtrupp's cockpit, accompanied by a rapid beeping sound.

Instinctively, 'Kilo One' yanked back on the fly-by-wire joystick and the DD80 jerked into a steep climb. Designed to be unstable and thus maneuverable, the climb was steep, even by fighter standards, and the pilot, a 32-year-old man called Olsen, felt the G-forces pulling at every part of his body.
Thank goodness for G-suits.

He flipped down the second of his visors, the extreme-light one, and aimed directly for the sun while deploying what countermeasures he could.
His squadron-mates were doing the same.

Radar-reflecting chaff flew from the specially-designed launchers near the tail and the laser dazzler activated as he pushed for maximum speed.

Most missiles use what is called Active Homing, where they use their own intelligence to track and home in on a target, in this case fifteen DD80 multirole fighters. This is the kind of missile that chaff and flares are designed to confuse and eliminate, and usually it works to great affect - the missile will become disorientated and go for the more obvious target, usually the decoy.

Both the R-77 and S-300 are both, admitedly, active homing missiles. However, using the Joint Target Information Distribution System, they were not using their own radars, they were using the radars sitting twenty thousand feet below in Rostok and Atryau. These radars were manned not by a computer, but by a men, and these men were keeping their lock firmly on the DD-80 fighters, not the chaff and flares. Problem solved.

The various R-77's continued to home in on their targets, one breaking off to engage Olsen. Pulling 12g was far more than any human could manage, and this was where the missile had the advantage - straight up it went, following the DD80 turn for turn. Five seconds to intercept...

Magic Flight

"Phenonix and 241 have engaged, engage engage engage!"
"Two, firing."
"Three, firing."
"Four, firing."

Two R-77 missiles leapt away from each Su-30MKI in turn, at a range for 37.6 miles to target. The intercept would not be long.

Pheonix Flight

"Engaged! Up high, breaking thirty thousand! Form ladder - four, break to engage at 35, three at 40, two at 45 and I'll go up over."
"Roger!"

The idea was for the aircraft to form a ladder of aircraft, each covering a 5,000 feet sector. It was a practice done often by 2 Squadron Pilots. This also meant the aircraft could descend at very high speeds to intervept - ideal when the Su-30 could break Mach 2.34 in level flight.

OOC: So utterly mad maneuvers will lose the controller people?
And, if the planes keep it up long enough, maybe the missiles.
As a general rule, missiles have less fuel than aircraft.

OOC:

It's very unlikely that your able to outmaneuver the radar, unless your at crazy low level, which obviously isn't good for dogfighting. And the R-77 has a range of 175km, so you can't really outrun it either.

What the pro's do is try and outmaneuver the missile itself at the last moment - the closer the missile gets, the more G it has to pull to keep up with the aircraft.

I'm not really looking for kills or a victory here, just hell-ass cool RPing =)

So am I, but I'm missile-illiterate. :eek:

IC tommorow. Big cheer.

Olsen watched as the icon representing the missile got steadily closer.
He flicked the plane in the opposite direction, down and to the left at the latest occasion he dared.
The flight commander's suprisingly calm voice appeared in his ears.

"Boys, Kilo Actual. Looks like we can't do much. So let's give 'em payback, fire what you can"

An A9Sa missile sped off from his wingtip.

A medium-to-long range AAM, it has a semi-active-radar-homing/anti-radiation hybrid which can follow even encrypted radio communication and ECM countermeasures actually guide it further.

Olsen, however, was unlucky today. The maneuver didn't work and he watched as the dot representing the missile merged.
He felt a massive, overwhelming force in his back and ball of sheer flame encompassed the cockpit.
The wing tanks erupted and the Fortrupp dissapeared in a massive fireball.

"Fireball! Scratch one Fortrupp!"
"Caution three, one missile incoming, evade!"

The AS9a was a missile to be feared, and the pilots knew this. The blinking icon on their radar screen moved with great speed towards the formation, and was nigh on impossible to evade.

It was screaming towards Magic 3, the northernmost of the fighters. The pilot had just spotted it and started the roll when it smashed through the tail assembly of the aircraft, narrowly missing the enging. With the tail assembly gone, the aircraft went into an ever increasing spin.

"Aggggh.....ejecting!"

The canopy popped off, and a second later the seat assembly was ejected out into the clear sky. He would survive, but the aircraft had no hope. It smashed to the earth some time later, totally destroyed.

"Shit, we've lost three. Time to bug out, go low level and valley trawl the was south. Leave Pheonix to dice it up here."

With that, the three remaining aircraft from Rostok dropped to low level and high speed, planning to use the valleys to retreat.

Pheonix Flight

"Two fireballs, 18,000 and 29,000, one down each side."
"Got a visual. I got....four R-77's and four S-400's still inbound. Time to convergence about thirty seconds."
"Maintain formation, keep the speeds low. Wait for them to make the move, guys - when they do, launch some Adder's and go low level to evade. Understood?"
"Roger, sir."

OOC:

You said you wanted hell-ass RPing, so some movie-style maneuvers away. Hope this isn't too far-fetched, I researched it and it has been done.

IC:

"Confirm, confirm, one down. Pilot clear, over"

Lieutenant Åkerstedt had seemingly been very lucky - admittedly, no missiles had been aimed for Fox flight two miles behind the group but they'd caught up.

He was right behind the leader of Kilo flight and a missile was between him and the DD80 in front.

It was closing, and he'd radioed for the guy to keep still.
Åkerstedt was bearing down from above and he had to be careful, for the maneuver he was to pull off was, at the least, totally, certifiably, legally, insane.

He had one Öten 25mm cannon on his nose and he was aiming carefully. He had only five seconds to pull this off, maybe less. After those five seconds, the blast radius would be too close. Another two and the blast would kill Kilo's leader outright.
Yet he could think about all of this.

Musn't think...must act...

He all but closed his eyes shut as he squeezed the trigger and 25mm spurted from the nose.

OOC 2:

I intend that, from luck more than anything, it works but he's unfortunate enough to hit flying debris from it. Punctures cockpit, forced to return to a destroyer's helipad.

V(S)TOL For the win!

...so, too far-fetched? Cardiac Arrest?

OOC: This is getting interesting. Will be a nice way for me to test out all of my new equipment i'm hoarding off of DMG's storefront. :p

Oops...sorry to break the news to you, but among designers like myself DMG's stuff is regarded as interesting but impracal, unusable, and generally, a 'nice idea, but you're a bit of an idiot' affair.

OOC: Ah no problem. Luckily he isn't my sole storefront i've purchased off of. I've also made some purchases off of Doomingsland's and Lyran's, if those are any better.

OOC:

Sorry about this guys. I've been in hospital and amn't feeling too good, but I should be starting off again tommorow.

I feel really daft, using real tech stuff =P I might continue the practice, see how it goes!

RL stuff is a bit inferior, but better thought out, if you know what I mean.

And get well soon.

OOC:

Remember I still have some SAM's inbound and a handful of other bits and bobs.

IC:

"Looks like they haven't seen us."
"Ok, hit the burners and pass through their formation at high speed - I'm talking Mach 2.5."
"Roger, commencing on count....1, 2, 3, go!"

The Su-30's hit the burner's and screamed towards the DD80 formation. The fighter leader knew they would never win in a dogfight, the enemy were just far too nimble. So they would do what the Su-30 does best and use speed and power. Diving from heights ranging from 35,000 feet to 50,000 feet, the pilots rode their aircraft through twice the speed of sound.

Once within range of the enemy, they let off two Adder short range air to air missiles, and kept going down to low level. He hoped they would be lost in the ground clutter.

OOC2: And the cannon thing is fine, its cool =P

"Multiples on same bearing, inbound! Over"

"As if we didn't have enough to do. Evade as best you can, over"

Åkerstedt heard the flight commander, still suprisingly calm, ordering his flight to join him at very low level, 'sea-skipping'. The planes would go slower, but so would the missile - Åkerstedt hoped that the fleet was in range and able to deploy CIWS systems.

He heard a crash and a bang as a DD80 met it's end in a massive fireball as the drop-tanks and long-range AAMs detonated, finally destroyed by one of the S-400s.

Meanwhile, the leader of Kilo flight had started deploying countermeasures, as well as sending a short burst of ECM at one of the two missiles chasing him.

"All flights, Kilo flight, Kilo actual, fire your missiles and return to low-level and head back to the fleet. Then we'll head up high and give these guys a taste of their own medicine. Over"

"AWAC's reports one bogey down. Good hit!"
"Right, those guys are returning to the fleet...wait, shit another volley of missiles incomng. Get low and evade!"

With Magic Flight long gone, Pheonix was now looking for a way to get out of the fight. There was no way they would win against that many enemies, and they needed the fighters. Following their leader, they went low in the valleys and hills of norther Agroprom. Using low level flying, they would work their way back east to their airbase.

In the ground clutter, trees and valleys, the missiles didn't really stand a chance. One hit a shed, killing a flock of sheep inside. Another went berserk after losing radar contact behind a hill. The rest just piled into the sides of the valleys. Flying at over the speed of sound at under one hundred feet was difficult, but the elite Pheonix Flight would manage it.

Regional Military Headquarters

"Sir, news report from the AWAC's! Combat reported over northern Agroprom, confirm enemy and friendly losses. It just got hot, sir."
"I'd say it got hot when we sunk that frigate. Report to Corps HQ, and scramble the SAR aircraft."
"Anything else, General?"
"Put all forces in the North on high alert. Things just got interesting."

Letter to the Antigr Foreign Office

To: All Who May Be Concerned
From: Vladimir Dal, Head of State

I was first made aware several day's ago of the sinking of the ship Oredent by Agroprom Fighters. I was also made aware that the ship was within Agroprom waters, within thirty miles of our main submarine base at Letensk. This is a direct violation of international law. Furthermore, the Frigate fired on these fighters first, thus further contravening international law. Thus, it is our belief that your military has no place in Agroprom - if you have a problem with how the event was handled, this should have been done through normal channels.

I have just heard that Antigran fighters violated Agroprom airspace, engaged Agroprom fighters, and returned to what is possibly an INVASION fleet. Well I will tell you now, Agroprom will not let this blatant law violation stand. Expect no easy victory, my dear sirs, and please regard your actions carefully, or no-one will be able to forsee what is ahead.

Signed,
Vladamir Dal

OOC:

Basically, the brass are pissed. What I was thinking was you would invade the Uyakan islands as revenge, before possibly losing the heart for the war and pulling out at a later date?

OOC:

I was thinking more of the same, actually. The blowing up of the nuclear plant you mentioned at the start would turn it into a nuclear wasteland. We make the island completely uninhabitable and leave. Your opinions?

IC:

ANTIGRAN DIPLOMATIC TRANSMISSION
The United Royal Kingdom of Antigr


To: Vladimir Dal
From: His Majesty, King Hallen-Ottestad, Head of State, J.H.X Pierce, President

Sir, it seems ironic to talk about law after ruthlessly sinking a completely helpless frigate that had strayed into your waters after suffering major electronical fires and navigational loss. Even more ironic that fighters immediately followed with the aim of killing, in cold blood, the very few remaining survivors.

The response by the Royal Navy is wholly in proportion and this is none but an act of war by the Agroprom Armed Forces, who have sent us a sheet of lies stating their made-up excuses.
You have sunk an Royal Navy frigate, and you shall pay the penalty.

Antigr is now at a de-facto state of war with Agroprom.

---

"Kilo Flight, Kilo Actual, have lost radar bearing on target, over"

"Ditto, over"

"Land, repair, rearm, refuel, and reassume patrol and escort duties. Over"

A sattelite, the RASC-S-380, had passed over Argoprom and confirmed the home base of the nearest two Agroprom retaliations.

---

SSN S.R.F. Dentzsen


The Dentzsen had 8 torpedo tubes and six VLS tubes, and each and every one of the VLS tubes was packed with supersonic cruise missiles, as well as two of the torpedo tubes.

"Captain! Recieved order to fire"

"Confirm it"

"Already have"

"Let me see the sheet"

The Ensign handed the Captain the computed piece of paper.

"Mm-Hmm. Stand by"

"Standing by"

"Let us not waste time. Launch in three"

Three minutes later, and the eight cruise missiles shattered through the water, casting droplets up into the air. Fish fled as they broke the surface and accelerated upwards - the missiles would fly very low and very fast, causing supersonic damage in their wake.

AVB Rostok

The remaining Su-30MKI's had just landed on the runway when four cruise missiles pummeled the base. The whole air base was lit up in an instant, one missile crashing into a hangar housing an Il-76M air to air refueling aircraft, causing an explosion of huge proportions. Another hit the radar assembly at one end of the runway, one ripped away half of the control tower and the final smashed two Su-30's beyond recognition.

Similar scenes were occuring at AVB Atryau, costing the Agroprom Air Force three Su-27's, a variety of ground service trucks and slicing a runway in half.

There would be hell to pay.

South Uyakan Island

The artillery outpost was as dug in as could be, and was one of many around the island. Ammunition was held in underground bunkers and the huge 203mm artillery pieces themselves were heavily entrenched. They had a wide variety of hardware available to them as well - satellite and radar feeds from aircraft and radars posted on nearby hills.

It may be a low tech alternative, but it sure as hell worked. The enemy fleet was 50 miles distant, the maximum range of the artillery pieces. The battery of three guns commenced fire with three other batteries around the area, using the radar targetting system to concetrate their fire on the carrier. After two minutes and two rounds per gun later, the firing stopped and the guns moved to relocate.

It might not do much, but it was something.

OOC:

*Theme from The Sum of All Fears plays*

IC:

Fleet Carrier S.R.F. Mäckben


"Jonatan!"

"Yes?"

"Look. Faint signal...multiples, bearing three-seven-two!"

The radar operator's colleague ran over to a telephone and began yelling at whoever was on the bridge at the time.
At long ranges, because of the slower shell speed and other factors, it was possible to shoot one down. It had happened before.

The three port CIWS mounts swung round as the twelve shells came within range. They began firing; at longer range, the 25mm shells did not have the desired effect but as they loomed in, they did.
Three of the shells exploded in mid-air, two victim of the carrier, the remaining lone shell felled by an escort ship, and one landed in the sea a mere three metres or so away from the hull, throwing masses of tiny water droplets over the startled sailors and causing some medium damage from the kinetic energy pulse as they detonated.

That was four shells, leaving eight. One whizzed into the first island with the kind of terrifying sound a high-speed-train makes as it hurtles past a platform, blowing some of the communications equipment and a helicopter to pieces.

Another two flew into the same opening to the hangar deck, blowing a DD80 on a load lift into the sea and destroying several more of the same aircraft and two transport planes, although their impact was limited by the fireproof bulkhead.

Four smashed, with shocking force, into the deck, blowing two CIWS mounts to kingdom come and destroying the port forwardmost autocannon battery.

Two landed on the deck edge, such was the precision of their guidance, while one had it's impact absorbed by several ASW aircraft and one crashed through the deck completely, detonating on the hangar floor and obliterating a recreation room and four DDR-570 helicopters.

The shrapnel from these shells flew everywhere, killing sailors all around, penetrating walls, floors, doors, and ceilings. One shell's shrapnel cut into a 25mm sub-magazine, creating a fair-sized explosion, badly damaging more aircraft and blowing through a crew's quarters.

Sirens began to sound as damage-control teams were mustered and the firefighting and recovery effort began.

---

"Fuck those little bastards"

Jagerhon, the fleet's admiral, yelled out.

"Sir, Axelson says he thinks he can save the ship but all but helicopter operations - and those are severely restricted - from the Mäckben are out"

"What comes around goes around. Has the sattelite located the batteries that shelled the carrier?"

"Yes, but the guns have vanished. All evidence suggests they're mobile guns"

"Then take it to the next scale. Now listen to me; I want every possible coastal defence battery anywhere along the coastline anywhere near this fleet annihilated. This has gone to the next stage, Gentlemen. I feel angry. Let's invade somewhere"

"Agroprom?"

"I'm not sure King Ottestad wants you creating new Antigrs at a time like this. With respect, Admiral"

"They have held repaeated smaller-scale reincarnations of Pearl Harbour, Commodore! Now don't you tell me to be reasonable. I need something not to large, not to small. Something important, but not over-the edge. I want a target"

"We're near the Uyakan islands, where the shells came from. Fits the bill"

"Wh - Have you prepared this beforehand, Christer?"

"Comes with experience, sir"

"Begin. I'm feeling American today"

OOC:

Can we pause this until tomorrow? I have a Maths exam tomorrow morning - crazy calculus and complex numbers.

OOC:

Certainly. Exams are the bottomless pit of boredom.
To even attempt them is herioc.

*Badly plays slightly bent bugle while saluting*

Regional Command, South Uyakan Island

The HQ was getting fairly hectic. A damage report was coming in from the artillery barrage on the fleet - it was more effective than could ever be imagined. The artillery was currently hidden in some woods, and most of the armor on the island had been moved to dispersed positions. Fortification was being done at a rapid rate - an enemy landing had been predicted by high command, as the islands were closest to the enemy fleet, and were fairly exposed.

The commanders were still awaiting an armored and mechanized division, and perhaps most importantly, their operational commander from the mainland hadn't arrived yet. The islands commanders were trying their best to work under their own initiative, but no-one had the rank or experience of working on an operational scale. Thus, an ad hoc command network had been set up of commanders supporting each other. However, no battle plan had really been drawn up yet, and nothing would really be in effect until the following day.

The command post itself was dug into the side of a wooded hill, and had a wide variety of communications available to it. All of what they were hearing from the mainland was pointing towards increased enemy action - the fleet was huge, and obviously amphibious operation equipped. For now, all the problems involved juggling the different units, logistics and just digging in.

The Frontline, North Uyakan Island

Podpolkovnik Freyer stepped out the BTR along with a squad of Mechanized troopers, and strode with his adjutant towards the local command point, where are Stárshiy Leytenánt was sheltered in a small foxhole brewing up an instant meal. He was startled at the arrival of Freyer, and jumped to his feet, jamming on his helmet and saluting.

"Podpolkovnik! I didn't expect to see you this near to the front!"

"At ease, Leytenánt. How are the defenses?"

"As good as their going to get. We have one GPMG in the middle and one LMG on the left of our position. There are two rows of foxholes - the rear ones are used as toilets, and the middle set used as reserves and cooking foxholes. It's all very camoflaged right along the line, sir - completely hidden from above and at long ranges."

"Whats the weaponary status?"

"Almost too much ammo. Still waiting on anti-tank equipment from the rear."

"Well heres the situation, Leytenánt. This isn't the main defensive line. Your battalion is to hold this line and delay the enemy after they land. Once the push comes, each squad will report back to HQ before falling back to the main line, about two miles behind."

"But sir, these positions...."

"The main line is stronger, and better situated. That's the battle plan, Leytenánt, and your squad will stick to it. Light armor support and anti-tank weapons will arrive tomorrow morning - I'll rebrief you then. Understand?"

"Yes, SIR!"

Freyer saluted, and went back to the BTR. He was doing a tour of the front line positions, hopefully making everyone understand the provisional battle plan. God, it better work - so much was riding on a probing initial enemy attack. If they gambled with a stab in the dark, they would spear right through the first line of defence. The only anti-tank support would come in the form of BMP-3's, BTR's and some RPG's - admiteddly the latest model's, but it was nothing compared to the assembly of the main line.

http://www.haborumuveszete.hu/rovatok/fegyverek/pancelosok/btr-80/btr5.jpg

One asset they did have, Freyer mused, was good artillery and possibly air support. An entire artillery division was posted on the two islands and the neighbouring mainland, and air support would be coming in from an airbase on the mainland and South Uyakan. Unfortunately, due to the fleet nearby, it was limited to low level action, which was however ideal for CAS. Everything would become clear once Field Commander Volkov arrived.

North Uyakan Island

The soldiers had arrived early in the morning and told him to leave. It was a fairly shocking experience, being kicked out his home of over half a century. He took his dog, valuable personal belongings and the small Rijeka TV - nothing else. Another war, another evacuation. Everything from the people of the town was loaded in the back of trucks, before the people were loaded up and driven away - the town was left deserted, minus for a platoon of troops. As they left, he saw them mining the beach and boobytrapping the village.

Maybe it was his tired, cynical mind playing over again, but Mikka Arinen had seen this all before. Usually in more chaos, admiteddly, but this time it seemed real. As the truck cruised back through the checkpoints, he saw more troops than he had ever seen before. Lines of soldiers, tanks, armored vehicles. God almighty, he though, he was never going to see his home again. They were taken to a tented village at the south of the island, where they would await transportation to the mainland by ship and helicopter. God knows what would happen then. He felt sorry for the people with families. Worldly belongings left behind, families stretched to the limit.

Helicopter, South of South Uyakan Island

The helicopter was so low the froth was flicking the underside of the aircraft. The Ka-60M command helicopter moved fast over the sea towards the islands, all lights off inside and outside. In the cargo hold was a variety of comms kit, ammunition and GPS equipment. Also onboard was possibly the key to victory or defeat on these islands - Field Commander Volkov, decorated General of two civil wars and combat in Independent Hitmen.

OOC:

Ok, there you go. I'm using standard Russian kit, along with all their ranks.

As for maps, I'm stealing them, admiteddly, straight from Operation Flashpoint. I'm trying to get some online, but I might just have to email you the PDF's. Can you TG me your email adress?

OOC:

Exams almost over! Yayyy!

Bah.

I can't even spare myself two minutes for an IC post. Expect more missiles, however.

I believe that if you open my forums public profile it will say, somewhere, 'email this member' or something like that.

IC:

The command ship was tense, and, like it's enemy counterpart on the Uyakan islands, it was bustling with profusely sweating people clutching bits of paper, yelling.

Admiral Jagerhon's cries of 'shut up' weren't working, and he'd made a strategic withdrawal to his office.
Two Royal Marines were keeping the annoying, sweating, office clerks out, but one man they did allow in.

It was an Intelligence Officer by the surname of Evensen and he had several sheets of paper, like everyone else, but he had a calm stride and a more dignified look on his face.

We need more people like him, he pondered.

"Admiral. Sattelite giving information on Uyakan islands. I think they know we're coming. Look at the defences; here, here, and here. And you'll want to see these.

Look there, and there. And there's what is probably a whole company's worth of BMPs at this place"

Evensen wasn't exaggerating. They looked manned and ready for the kill, surrounded by a crates with RPGs in them and several MG nests.

"It looks like you are right. Now, take an order"

"Yes, sir"

"We will, as you know, be landing on the north Uyakan island, first, anyway. However, I want you to shell the holy living crap out of everything on the southern island. Then, about half an hour before the beaches are hit, we need a more intense, last-minute bombardment of North Uyakan positions, that's clusters of vehicles or troops, as well as coastal defences and any units that will be a position suitable for immediate counterattack.

And could you get me some sandwiches? You know the kind I like"

"Yes, Admiral!"

OOC:

I can't use the email on your profile thing =/ You could just TG me it?

I have a couple of maps and they are quite good, but in PDF format.

OOC:

Just so you people know, I'm having something of an RL family crisis at the moment. I'll be inactive from between Thursday/Friday to the following Friday or later.

TGed.

OOC:

Thats fine, as you may have seen I'm spending my time right now updating my armed forces.

I'll send you the PDF. Right after I sign you up for a load of porn with your email adress.

OOC:

I have returned! Time for some invasioning, don't you think?

OOC:

Sure, just let me track down them maps and post another IC post about defenses and a bit of build up.

- Post Deleted -

Bump for Agroprom

THREAD REVIVAL OF DEATH!

Had a scholarship in Arizona, and if you have ever been there, you will realise the internet is about as rare as rain. Finding a map is tough as well, I'm trying to find something decent we can use with proper gradients and towns etc.

You want to keep going?