NationStates Jolt Archive

International Waters, SE of North Point, S of Tarn City and NW of Holy Panooly- 18:12

A six small patrol boats were skimming through the dangerous contested waters of the Southern Dienstad Continent in the evening sun. Red and orange bathed the beautiful sea and distant coast of Theohuanacu. The vessels were certainly long range boats but were predominantly brown waters ships and incapable of much combat particularly in blue water conditions. They sailed in a chevron formation with a larger patrol vessel leading the flotilla, it was obviously the flagship of this particular group of ships because of its size in comparison to the accompanying vessel but other key features set it apart from the rest. A larger main mast which had a small radar dome on the top with other electrical instruments rotating next to it; armoured missile box launchers on both the fore port and starboard sides; a five inch rapid firing cannon; a single CIWS cannon; a six-by-six cell vertical launch system towards the aft and a helicopter landing pad at the very end. She was a warship, not particularly powerful but a warship nonetheless. The other five ships were too but were more obsolete models that most naval captains probably couldn’t identify them. They were definitely very cheap brown water patrol boats, they had a distinguishable bridge and main deck gun as the most noticeable characteristics but apart from that you couldn’t tell them apart. All had been heavily modified in their own unique way, mounted rocket launchers, armoured missile box launchers, additional radar and sonar equipment, bigger engines, more machine guns, almost everything was different.

The lead ship had kept its battleship grey colourings apart from a huge solid lightening bolt shooting down the hull emblazoned in yellow but some of the other ships had been coloured a bit more liberally. All of them had some sort of iconography that was replicated elsewhere on the ship and was clearly seen on the flags flying from the main masts of the ships. They were Pirates, organised and ruthless privateers who obviously were good that their job and well respected enough to get their hands on such fine vessels and still have money to improve them further and they all flew a green flag from their mast. The icon was distinctive enough, two white M16 assault rifles positioned to mimic the crossed bones of a Jolly Roger with a small white laughing skull hovering above the guns. To any captain who travelled through these waters of Great Dienstad it would send a chill up their spine. These were not splinter privateers and rouge mercenaries, these fellows were much more dangerous. They were part of a huge illegal pirating organisation known throughout the region and even in certain parts of the world and known as The Dienstad Cartel. They were deadly as they come, many of the pirates were ex-military and the Cartel had enough military resources to fight a small war with a very small country and actually win. The Cartel was excellent at its job and today was to be another sorry day for the Southern Continent where the Cartel was going to flex its growing muscles.

The chevron was travelling together at nearly thirty-six knots and heading North West out of Holy Panooly towards Golden Throne controlled waters off Theohuanacu and was to attack some shipping before nightfall at 22:30, only four hours away. The fleet had been tailing a target for nearly a day, a cargo ship from The Macabees bound for North Point loaded with weapons and ammunition for the on going war effort. Spare parts for armour and equipment for engineers was also onboard, the ship was a mighty bonanza for the Cartel if it could be quickly taken and looted. However time was against the pirates, the cargo had only just entered friendly waters and an escort from the Kriermada was probably well on its way to rendezvousing with the cargo ship. The attack had to begin as soon as possible, the ship was well within visual range and the fleet of pirates dispersed into a huge crescent formation that began to surround the ship. The pirates changed their angle of attack and closed the net on the hapless cargo ship. There was no communication at all between any of the pirate vessels, this action had been rehearsed and performed so often that it was now second nature and everybody knew where everybody was. The lead pirate began banging out an ECM signal and started to jam enemy communications as the ships closed into weapons range. Three of the small vessels opened fire with their 3” deck guns scoring direct hits on the cargo ship’s superstructure while another fired torpedoes at the rudder of the cargo ship. The explosion of two torpedoes sent a giant plume of water up into the sky and the ship violently rocked in a very unnatural way after the explosion, however she was wounded badly and had come to a dead stop. It was no doubt the propellers had been damaged and that the rudder had been completely destroyed but it was clear that the ship wasn’t sinking.

The lead ship circled the crippled vessel as the crew stumbled out to see who was firing them. Almost reading their minds the Captain of the lead pirate ship spoke to them through the shrillness of a megaphone.

“Privateer Captain Alec Tucov of the warship Acheron!” Came a distinctly Russian voice. “Your cargo is very important to us but you people are not. Do exactly what we ask or we will kill every single one of you! Open the main cargo bay doors while two of my ships board you. We will see what is worth taking and what is worth leaving, we will defend you from your allies until a fast cargo ship belonging to the Cartel arrives. She should be here in one hour so make yourselves busy! Acheron to all ships bar Enterprise and Bulwark, arrange yourselves in a defensive formation half a mile away from the prize and prepare for battle!”

The small gunship helicopter on the back of the Acheron lifted off the pad and began to circle the prize while the warships Bulwark and Enterprise offloaded ‘marines’ onto the cargo ship. They were not lightly armed and looked more like riot police armed with M16s than anything, they had thermal goggles, gas masks, body armour and grenades- like any Marine a super naval power would have. They wore red combat fatigues and truly caused havoc on the cargo ship, already bullets had been fired into several crew members who failed to cooperate. There were no second chances or glances, those who did not do as instructed were swiftly killed. The crew caught onto this quickly and so the cargo bay doors were open and the marines were looking for worthwhile goods inside. If one were to look South East then one would see the silhouette of a small cargo ship belonging to the Cartel and as of yet, not a single Golden Throne ship was in sight.

21:31

The Cartel cargo ship Nut & Bolts had pulled alongside the prize and the huge crane on its deck was busy shifting the contents of the Macabee freighter into its own cargo bay. The worthy prizes were better than expected for the pirates, ten thousand standard issue assault rifles which thirty thousand boxes of ammunition. Fourteen containers filled with replacement barrels for the Nakîl MBT and a further two crates with enough spare parts and equipment to construct two turrets for a Nakîl tank. Two hundred crates of land mines, forty thousands pounds worth of explosives in the form of shells, two hundred barrels of diesel and four replacement gas turbines for the Golden Throne’s tank force. It didn’t stop there, the navy had re-supplies too. Forty Sledgehammer II AShMs and four thousand assorted shells. All of this equipment was to be stolen but should be noted that this was not everything that was onboard the vessel, it was only as much as the Nut & Bolts could carry.

Outside it was getting dark and although the theft was going well the security issue was going badly. An expected blip had come onto the radar screens of the pirate fleet, it was the Golden Throne destroyer looking for its cargo ship that had now been half and hour late with its rendezvous with the naval vessel, obviously the destroyer had gone hunting for the ship and had stumbled across a pirate attack in progress. It was still a long way off but the Golden Throne would most likely sink the prize to prevent the cargo falling into privateer hands, an action that Captain Tucov was not willing to allow. He ordered all the ships to arrange in a crescent formation and directly attack the enemy destroyer. At over thirty knots the distance was closed quickly but the destroyers weapons were state of the art and had superior range over the Cartel’s own weaponry, surprise was also on the side of the enemy destroyer as it popped off two missiles at the approaching ships. One was aimed at Enterprise but the speed and manoeuvrability of the patrol ship allowed it to completely dodge the missile. The other missile was directed at the Acheron which also took some evasive manoeuvres but also opened fire at the missile with pint defence weapons and deployed chaff grenades to further confuse the missile. The fleet was undamaged by the missile attack from the destroyer and in a few minutes they would be able to directly attack the enemy with their own weaponry. The destroyer, however, was not finished yet and opened fire with her 5” deck gun. The computers onboard the ship were excellent and calculated the projected path of the shell to within a few centimetres as the pirate ship Bulwark exploded into flames, fragments littered the sea before the smouldering hull exploded again as the missile stores inside caught fire. Another shell ripped apart another pirate ship and narrowly missed the Acheron. But now the pirates could return fire, Acheron and Enterprise fired first with their box launcher missiles while the other two boats opened up with small cannon fire. The CIWS on the destroyer easily dispatched the four missiles flying towards it but little could be done about the shell fire which was not indiscriminate. The deck gun took a direct hit and the bridge was badly damaged in the attack, the Acheron took full advantage and fired a single heavy anti-ship missile from its VLS tubes which hit the main super structure of the Macabees destroyer, crippling it indefinitely.

“Destroyer of the imperialistic Empire of the Macabees, you are out numbered and out gunned but we have little interest in your quaint vessel so we will leave you to your fate.” Shouted Tucov over his megaphone to the stricken destroyer which now had crewmembers spilling out onto the deck to escape the smoke filled corridors inside.

Maybe to the amazement of the crewmembers of the destroyer the pirates headed back to the cargo ship way off into the distance granting the ship some mercy, but these feeling were to be quickly replaced with terror. The pirate Comanche helicopter gunship that was launched by the Acheron hovered overhead before coming level with the deck of the ship. Crewmembers darted for safety just as the chain gun opened fire tearing into the flesh of those who couldn’t find cover. The helicopter opened fire with hellfire missiles as well causing further death and damage before small arms fire destroyed the helicopter.

An hour later a cruiser and two frigates belonging to the Golden Throne arrived to aid the crippled destroyer and pick up survivors, they also retook the cargo ship several miles away and found massive amounts of cargo stolen, the entire crew dead and a flag belonging to the Dienstad Cartel… but all signs of the pirates were long gone.



COMPUTER LIBRARY
Royal Navy Database **Authorisation**
Cptn. Jeremy k. White HMS Lexington


Royal Navy Database
+ International Organisations
+ + Piracy
+ + + Pirate Groups and Organisations
+ The Dienstad Cartel


Brief
The Dienstad Cartel is the large profit making organisation in the Greater Dienstad region that makes its profit through piracy. They are one of twelve pirate organisations but are not a pirate family and so focus solely of business rather than bothering with Pirate Codes and Law. They are the biggest, richest and most powerful Cartel in the region and probably one of the most well know in the local surrounding regions and continents although their influence doesn’t really stretch beyond Safehaven or the Otium Aqua.

The Dienstad Cartel were formed at the very end of the Holy Panooly civil war, the aftermath of which left the country in anarchy and disarray, the waters untameable and stupidly unsafe to sail in. These were the perfect conditions for the Cartel to start life in and quickly drew up ‘constitution’ allowing them to attack any and all shipping but focus must be on military shipping and military logistical ships. Using captured Holy Panooly patrol boats it wasn’t long before the allied powers aiding the Holy Panooly government had their ships being attacked by the Cartel. Ships that were harassed the most were those belonging to the government loyal forces of Holy Panooly, Axis Nova and Stevid. Within a year most nations had ignored the plight of Holy Panooly but the Cartel had already reaped the benefits with over sixteen patrol ships captured, three destroyers and one frigate under their command- their crews all executed. This sort of ruthless policy has what has got the Cartel to where it is today and has earned them a fearful reputation, they believe war is good for business and this has been proven during the last war.

Targets and Tactics
Oil and munitions tankers from Adaptus Astrates to the Holy Empire of Stevid had been ambushed by the Cartel on several occasions, Stevid’s expensive anti-piracy policy makes them dangerous targets because most ships are protected but the Cartel still managed to take several patrol vessels and a wealth of goods from the Holy Empire. During the Athiesism Campaign a single Stevidian cruiser was sunk by a modified Sledgehammer AShM. The after action report suggested that the missile was modified to be launched via a submarine belonging either to the Golden Throne or the Merkar Republic however half a year later it was understood that the cruiser was sunk by a pirate ship flying the flag of the Dienstad Cartel. This is the only evidence the Holy Empire has on the fact that the Macabees has been victim to the piracy efforts of the Dienstad Cartel. Gothic and Holy Grail heavy anti-ship missiles have been used against Imperial and civilian shipping in the southern continent during the past year which shows that they have found ways to integrate foreign technology into their existing launchers. The fact that these pirates have access to such violent weapons means that they are almost more of a threat to regional security than some nations.

It is believed that they possess some state of the art shipping. Recent reports suggest that the total number of ships present in the entire Dienstad Carte fleet includes: 183 patrol ships, 14 destroyers, 5 frigates, 1 cruiser, one battleship and a single light carrier (albeit with little or no aircraft). The battleship is confirmed to be a Stevidian Domination Class that was retired from service after seeing action against the Macabees during the Battle of Otium Aqua. The HMS Demon was lightly damaged in the battle and while returning was attacking and captured by the Cartel. She was presumed sunk by enemy submarine until she was seen again by Stevidian forces just off Adaptus Astrates attacking a civilian oil tanker, the HMS Demon was flying a Dienstad Cartel ensign. The light carrier is unidentified but could well have been a former carrier, now obsolete, of the Macabees. It is rumoured they possess a tiny submarine force but whether or not it is nuclear capable is uncertain, none of the submarines are Stevidian- that much is certain.
The professionalism required to seize that many vessels from that many countries so successfully proves this is not a ragtag bunch of privateers, they are exceptionally well organised by the Cartel leaders and the privateers themselves are probably ex-military themselves. The Royal Navy’s policy on piracy is very well known throughout the world but the Dienstad Cartel is top of the hit list, any ship flying the colours of the Cartel is to be sunk immediately. (See: Dienstad Directive Ref. 009638451)

Operational Zones
The Dienstad Cartel is very wide spread in the region but is concentrated in the Southern most parts of the region particularly in the Southern Continent that contains the nations of Theohuanacu, Adaptus Astrates and Holy Panooly, it is in these waters where the pirates are most common and it is here were several other pirate families and organisations operate. (See: Korgath Family, Privateer Cartel and the Sindacco Syndicate).

Holy Panooly is the most logical place for the Cartel’s base of operations. Holy Panooly is rife with corruption and piracy is the main driving force of parts of the economy and an ever influential black market. Holy Panooly is a heaven for all pirates and is too rebellious for even the Royal Navy to attack. Raids from the Cartel usual occur in the sea the separates Theohuanacu fro Holy Panooly as well as the islands between the two and the straits between Theohuanacu and Adaptus Astrates. This means the patrol ships are well within range of all the civilian and military transports and are in easy reach of a friendly port.
They also operate in the islands West of Theohuanacu and around Athiesism with much success however the pressure of Stevid’s anti-piracy policy is felt more firmly here and so it is out in these parts where patrol ships are still common but destroyers are fairly frequent too. Also the big fish of the Macabees and Safehaven are also targets in this part of the world. Scores and prizes out here are usually civilian rather than military targets but the Cartel are ruthless and take whatever they can get even if it means seizing the whole ship altogether.

The Cartel has a large presence in and around the islands of the former Merchant Guilds. The proximity to Stevid means that attacks are frequently pounced upon by the Royal Navy and it is safe to say that it is one of the Cartel’s least profitable areas but the rewards are far greater. Stevidian shipping is considered a fine prize by any pirate captain and the communication technology held by Stevidian military ships is well sought after. Most of the Cartel’s heaviest ships deploy out this far and the light carrier and the battleship Demon have been spotted by merchant vessels the past few weeks. (Royal Navy Pirate Activity Report- Stevidian Southern Straights and Neighbours: Accurate of 21/08/2020 Ref.09836)

Organisation
The Cartel is almost a political entity but should be categorised as an illegal profitable corporation. All ships are under the command of Privateer Captains who answer to those of higher rank only. The ranks are as follows:

+ Privateer (£36,000 per annum*)
+ Lieutenant (£42,000 per annum*)
+ Privateer Commander (£53,000 per annum*)
+ Privateer Captain (£60,000 per annum*)
+ Privateer Lord (£64,000 per annum*)
+ Pirate Warlord (£78,000 per annum**)
+ Dienstad Cartel Ring (The Bosses)

Pirate Warlords are a very rare kind and usually dwell in inland camps were raids are planned. Intelligence on enemy fleet movements and merchant shipping is sent to these camps to be analysed by the Warlords so attacks can be made. Many of these camps are located in East Theohuanacu, West Holy Panooly, the islands in between and a few in the Southern regions of the disputed zone.

All ranks have set wage which is usually high than most of the more liberally paid ranks in any navy across the world. Those with a single asterisk mean that this is their staple wage but they get 20% of all the profit they make in a single raid. The Pirate Warlords get 20% of the total profit made in every raid they coordinate. In theory a lowly Privateer can make in excess of £90,000 a year. This sort of pay is very attractive which is why many ex-military personnel work for the Cartel which is rich enough to pay for such generous wages.

De-Brief
The Dienstad Cartel is not to be under estimated in any way. They have obsolete but exceptionally efficient and highly modified naval craft from over seven different countries many of which have been stolen from nations within this region. They are highly dangerous and usually kill the crews of ships they capture. They are well armed, trained and motivated and thus should be treated like any enemy you would expect to fight from an exceptionally powerful country. It is worth noting that the Cartel would wage and win a war with a small nation with high tech equipment.

All commanding officers on board a Royal Navy ship must abide by the Dienstad Directive (Ref. 009638451) and destroy any and all Cartel shipping encountered.

+ + END OF DATABASE FILE: The Dienstad Cartel + +

IHS Londinium (CNR-4) Gaul Class Raider,
In the Otium Aqua

Londinium rocked slightly as another wave hit her. The storms at this time of year were not as gruelling as those endured during the First Battle of the Otium Aqua but were nonetheless dangerous and tiresome for the crew. Londinium’s sister ship, the Alessia, had been forced to move away from her to ensure there was no collision between the two raiders that patrolled this section of ocean.

Senior Captain Martyn Chandler was present on the bridge of Londinium, sitting in his leather command chair and sipping from a bottle of beer. It was a rare indulgence that he was allowing himself and a single bottle never had any noticeable effect on the big man anyway. Around him the bridge crew moved almost unnoticed, performing the myriad of tasks that kept the ship in fighting order. It was only when the intercom buzzed that any of them diverted from their task and answered the telephone-like contraption. He only listened for a minute before walking to the Captain.

“Captain, the communications room reports that an unidentified merchant vessel is broadcasting for help on open channels, garbled communications as if somebody is jamming her signal.”

“Position?”

“Unsure, we are trying to deduce it at the moment Captain.”

“Very well. Inform them that I want to know as soon as we have located the vessel, they have full use of the ESPY-4 and inform the chopper crews to standby. When we have a location we go to General Quarters. Oh and inform the Alessia.”



It had taken two hours to find the ships position and a further hour to get within range to dispatch a helicopter. Two SH-60 Seahawks, one full of marines, were in the air and heading towards the vessel and a glance through one of the pilots Nightvision system told them all they needed to know. The vessel had a small fire burning on the port side, but above it, adorning the superstructure was the infamous pirate flag. In the lead helicopter Marine Lieutenant James Ashdown peered through his own NV goggles and spoke over the intercom.

“Can we put the chopper down on the foredeck to search for survivors? No sign of pirate vessels left in the area.”

“Roger. Hold on.”

The helicopter banked hard to the right and came across the ship, the door gunners searching for any targets for their chain guns but finding none. Two more overflies lead to the same result and the pilot dropped down and hovered a foot above the deck as the twelve marines jumped down. They all crouched with their weapons at the ready as the chopper hauled itself back into the sky, Ashdown only giving orders once its rotor noise had receded enough to allow his shouts to be heard.

“Sergeant Taylor, take three men and go down the starboard side and find the bridge. Secure and hold. Corporal Grant you and three men will secure this landing area here. Matsui, Bergman, Leigh your with me lets go.”

The groups moved off. Taylor went at the front of his holding his M4 carbine in the aim and also watching for booby traps; the flashlight on his rifle helped as the ships lights were flickering on and off as it somebody was playing with the power. The rest of his squad followed him at intervals, their M4’s also held tightly. Taylor had only proceeded a few steps down the starboard passageway when he saw an arm draped over the bulkhead door infront of him. His left hand went up in a fist and the men behind him dropped to a knee, the rearmost turning to cover the passageway behind them. Taylor shouted a greeting, but no noise came back. Cautiously advancing he could see a room the otherside of the bulkhead and he flicked to the wall on the other side of the passageway and beckoned the next marine to come level with him. They both bounded into the room as the lights flicked on again, Taylor slipped on something on the floor and found himself lying on his back and listening to the sounds of somebody being sick.

He thanked himself for leaving the M4’s safety catch on and stood back up, his tactical gloves squelching as he did so. By now the lights had flicked off again and he did a quick 360 with his flashlight and saw the reason why his fellow marine had been sick. He had seen death before, not so long ago on a beach in Athieiesm, so his reaction was less guttural. Pressing the button on his personal radio he called up the Lieutenant.

“Sir we’ve found the crew.”

“Excellent. Do we need a translator? Surely somebody amongst them speaks English?”

“Sir they are all dead. Executed by the looks of things; there’s another pirate flag hung up in here as well.”

“Christ. Where are you Sarge?”

“Crews mess room, first room in on the starboard side.”

“Roger that. On the way.”


It took five minutes for him to arrive with his team, the heavy black assault boots making no noise thanks to the thick rubber soles. Ashdown sighed as he saw the sight, the floor was slick with blood where the men had been dragged to their executions and the bodies had then been lined up along a wall. He called the Londinium and reported what had been found, she was at full speed towards the location along with the Alessia and another helicopter loaded with marines was launched towards them. Ashdown spoke with Taylor.

“Ok Sarge. Secure this room with your team, nobody in or out when those other guys get here. I’m going to the bridge to find a cargo manifest and hopefully a crewlist. Let’s see if everybody got the chop and what cargo the bastards took.”

It was just another day on the high seas.

Small Makeshift Port, 40 miles North of Taloc, Theohuanacu

The Acheron and what remained of Captain Tucov’s fleet of ships sailed into the small harbour escorting the freighter Nuts & Bolts safely inside. The port was small, brashly cobbled together out of nothing more than spare parts and sheets of metal. Wooden poles and metal girders alike was all that kept the piers a float while the docklands were merely wooden huts and buildings. It was a pirates cove and stronghold where on of the many Pirate Warlords dwelled and coordinated raids, this particular one was known as Hell’s Gate and there were about six more like it up and down the East coast of Theohuanacu and hundreds more across this area of the region and all were controlled by their own separate Pirate Warlords. The Acheron sailed softly into port with her Captain watching from behind the helmsman as the dim lights of the port grew ever larger.

“A good haul today Privateer.” He spoke with his usual harsh Russian accent. “And crippling a destroyer of the Macabees, your skills at sailing ships is most welcome. You did well today.”

“Thank you Captain. May I ask just how well have we done?”

“You may. Suffice to say we are all going to be significantly richer tomorrow thanks to the two raids we conducted in the space of four hours. The Golden Throne munitions tanker was the biggest prize of all, the technology ripped from that will make massive amounts of money on the black market even though it is almost completely useless without Macabee scientists but nations and companies are still willing to pay good money. The munitions gathered can be sold on or used by our vessels, the supplies will keep us and Hell’s Gate going for quite some time, and of course the ship’s safe was raided so we pocketed the money for ourselves.”

“What of the second vessel Privateer Captain?”

“Less of an achievement but a prize is a prize. They didn’t put up a fight and would have preferred to have actually captured the vessel but Independent Hitmen has increased patrols of late and allied scouts reported a small squadron moving to investigate so we had to clear out of there ASAP. But we did seize some supplies and mechanical parts. The ship’s safe was of course raided and so we bagged the money out of that as well has a list containing official shipping lanes for this month.”

“I presume the Marines ‘interrogated’ the crew?”

“Yes but they only managed to get the location of the safe and not much else. I’m sure the crew were killed but I don’t really care just so long as I get my money.”

It wasn’t long before the ships and the half drunken pirates stumbled off their ships and headed straight for the centre of the cove for the nightlife, meanwhile the dockland crews made themselves busy by unloading the Nuts & Bolts and shipping the loads by small trucks up to the warehouses further into the Stronghold were security was tighter. But a Pirate’s life is one of luxury every so often, one’s life of hardship and banishment from establishments and countries has its many downsides but also up sides. The Pirates were ‘home’ and could utilise some of lives less glamorous but more exotic luxuries. Prostitution was rife Hell’s Gate, hookers on the street and even a fully operational red light district with official businesses. The majority of the crews relieved the stress of work in these houses, sex and alcohol was exactly what undisciplined men of the sea needed and of course there was no shortage of supply, some women gave it free. It was easier to marry a successful pirate and inherit his money than simply get a couple a hundreds pounds out of him every fortnight.

Regardless of the risks the sex industry flourishes in such disgusting places and Captain Tucov was the last person to complain. Maybe it was because he himself liked to let his hair down once in a while or maybe it was because high crew morale was exactly what pirate war bands needed to survive. He decided to leave the crews to it, they had had a very long and exceptionally profitable day but his day wasn’t over yet. As Privateer Captain he took orders from the Warlord and after executing those orders he would have to report back with his takings, it would be an informal chat but a necessary one to further their cause and economic influence. Warlord’s seemed to be either overthrown or promoted everyday of the week but learned that Pirate Warlord Nakamora still had command of Hell’s Gate and the local region of sea. The Captain grabbed his papers from his private office and began the long walk to the cove’s stronghold where the ‘Mansion’ was situated. No doubt the warlord would be drinking unhealthy amounts of wine while watching his latest purchase of lap-dancers off the slave trade before having them killed if they got to boring and/or displeasing to the eye. Tucov did despise Nakamora in every sense of the word. Nakamora was Japanese but was every bit a perverted as a Dutch porn shop retailer and he had been taking full advantage of the recent Golden Throne occupation of Theohuanacu. Massive amounts of refugees had left their homes to escape the violence and many found homes in these secret little pirate coves along the coast. Most of the men now made livings as pirates or dockland maintenance crews but life isn’t easy and everyone has to work, men women and children. Men find jobs easily and children can earn their keep through textiles, washing and cleaning. Women, particular young, uneducated refugee women, find proper work very difficult to find. It is usually through personal choice that the red light district becomes their workplace, it’s either work or be kicked out of the cove and when you can earn a living and get a roof over your head when you’ve got a family to support while a war is going on, you take every opportunity no matter how degrading. These young women are desperate and Nakamora would take full advantage and buy women and girls from their families and use them for his dances and disgusting games of which all end in a disgusting death for the girls when Nakamora gets bored. Tucov composed himself to face the monster and he walked off in the light rainfall towards the mansion.

* * *


After a lengthy search from the gatehouse guards, Tucov was finally allowed in the compound and escorted up a winding dirt track to a dilapidated three storey structure known as Hell’s Gate Mansion. Tucov had only been here once before and once had been enough and the horrid reminiscing was made worse by the bleak and highly uncomfortable atmospheric weather. The rain was coming down much harder now and far, far in the distance there was a flash of lightning, minutes later there was a rumble signalling the storm was a long distance off yet and he hoped to get in, get his pay and then get out before the storm hit. On the third floor he could see lights on in what he thought maybe the master bedroom or the guestroom, it was bathed red and so he could only imagine what sort of sickening sexual games were going on inside. He took a deep breath as he approached the front door and was admitted into the Mansion.

He took in his surroundings and was disgusted at this ‘whore palace’ he had stumbled in on. The wallpaper was red but pealing badly in places and dotted to his left were several filthy looking mattresses of which one was in use. Appalled, Tucov drew is pistol and fire once over the heads of the couple. The girl, who moments before sounded like she had been enjoying the experience, screamed in terror while the man on top of her rolled over trying to find his weapon.

“Drop your weapon Privateer! It is a hangable offence to raise a weapon to a superior rank!”

“S-superior?” the man stammered as he lowered his aim slightly while trying to cover his physical dignity.

“Do you see the stripes now Privateer?” Tucov asked mockingly as he showed of his Captain stripes with a giant grin. “Take your whore someplace private and with a cleaner bed, I don’t want to have a conversation with the Warlord with you two moaning and groaning. Get out of my sight! Both of you!” He yelled with sincere rage. The half-naked couple trotted up the stairs to the bedrooms in fear and Tucov kept the pirate in his gun sights until he was out of sight.

“Who is firing in my house!” Shrieked a voice from the second floor landing of the mansion. Nakamora appeared with an AKS-74u in hand with three bodyguards and, much to Tucov’s revulsion, a completely naked seventeen year old girl in chains tied to Nakamora’s wrist. She crawled along the floor to his side, she was pale and in fear but like a slave (or more accurately: like a dog) was completely loyal to her ‘master’. “I swear I’ll shoot any bastard whore shooting in my… Tucov?”

“Hello sir.” Replied Tucov saluting lazily and trying to sound as bored as possible.

“Make more of an effort Captain or I may just shoot you anyway!” Nakamora spat as he walked right up to Tucov’s face. Tucov shifted his gaze away from the Warlord’s eyes and stared straight forward, stiffened his posture and saluted properly. “At ease… and welcome home Tucov.”

“Thank you sir. I see you have a new, err, pet?” Tucov said looking in the direction of the covering young girl who did nothing to cover herself as she seemed to have gotten used to the fact that she would not be getting any clothes and probably would last long enough to be given any.

“Yes.” Nakamora growled with a perverted gaze as he glared at the girl. “Her name is Rose and for a few weeks she was as prickly and resistant as a rose while retaining her beauty. But as the days ticked by I have gradually pruned her so she can’t even breathe without my permission. You should get one yourself Tucov, pleasure at your fingertips 24/7 and you can torment them as much as you like.”

“I’m not nearly sadistic enough Sir. Besides only Warlords have such power and I needn’t remind you of my inferior rank.”

“After today my good friend your rank may not be the same. I have recommended you for promotion to Warlord. I spoke with the rulers of our great and mighty cartel when I heard of your successes today. Two freighters with one loaded with munitions bound for the Golden Throne forces in Theohuanacu- we will make millions maybe billions from that haul alone.”

“News travels fast and thank you for the nomination.”

“You’re welcome… Prisoners?”

“None Sir. A total of one hundred and sixteen confirmed dead. Plus maybe twenty killed on the destroyer we crippled after the seizure of the first vessel. But no civilians survived sir, every single last one killed. Several tortured for information which they dully spilt and then they were subsequently executed.”

“Excellent. But I know that you are not here for praise, piracy is all about profits and you have boosted our profit margin so largely that you do deserve this amount.”

Nakamora beckoned a guard forward who held a suitcase and with a nod from the Warlord, opened it to reveal Stevidian pound notes.

“Fifteen Million Pounds to be shared amongst you and crews of your fleet and you are entitled to 10% extra than them. Also at the bottom is a small velvet pocket with three perfect diamonds worth around six million dollars each. A token of my gratitude for your work today on the high seas.”

Tucov nearly fainted with the amount of money in front of him. Never had he been given this much in a single sitting and it had all been in a day’s work. He’d lost a few ships and a helicopter, one diamond could pay for the replacement ship hulls and a helicopter. He was rich, richer than some Warlords and he may even become one in a few days! It was the best day his life and he couldn’t help smiling broadly. The mood was spoiled when the slave girl coughed violently to which Nakamora responded with a brutal tug to the chain around he neck. She gurgled loudly and collapsed on the floor motionless but alive and in a much undignified position. Not that she’d care, her dignity had been lost weeks, maybe months ago.

“She could use a little TLC if you know what I mean Tucov?” Nakamora said with a wink that made the Captain’s insides squirm and his skin crawl.

“She could use a hospital Sir but whatever you feel his best.”

“I always know best! Come Rose, we’re going to my quarters!” Nakamora bellowed to the hapless girl and he dragged her back up the stairs. Her weakened and violated body struggle to keep up with the pace as she was half crawled and half dragged up the poorly maintained stairs. Tucov looked on helplessly but thanked his own sorry soul that he didn’t have to see the next chapter of that sick saga or spend another second in the Mansion.

As soon as he stepped out into the rain his smile reappeared as he remembered the briefcase he was holding made him one of the richest men in the world. But something was different about the stronghold, the guards had gone and it looked like a fire had started into one of the northern most parts of the pirate’s cove. There were rumbles, or perhaps they were bangs but booming noises nonetheless, coming from that direction too. It could’ve been thunder but there was no lightning so he deduced that the stronghold was under ground attack but Imperial troop movements hadn’t been recorded nearby so it was likely to be a raid. But the Macabees had won the last war and had just conquered Theohuanacu so they couldn’t put anything down to chance, it may be a huge surprise attack and he would not waste time standing around watching it all unveil with a huge briefcase of money in his hand. Without looking back at the fires he darted East towards the docklands.

Eight large merchant vessels had come under attack from the Dienstad Cartel; at least eight ships were known to have survived in one piece. One of those ships, the MV Maryland, had a thirty foot hole just above the water line along the starboard side, and was fortunate enough to limp back to port without coming across a storm. She was fortunate, as the Maryland was part of a shipping group that had contracted private military personnel to protect against such an encounter. It made for a disturbing sight for the crews of the other ships in Mawport harbour as the Maryland came into the harbour of its home port. Other ships in the southern sea had received word of the confirmed attacks, but until the Imperial Navy could deploy convoy escorts in force, a half the merchant ships in the southern sea were under threat of attack. Attacks on Astratii ships seemed to be confined to the southern sea. The lack of a major threat in this area meant that Imperial Navy assets were minimal, mostly confined to frigates and corvettes. Not to say that they were ineffective designs, but these ships were relatively few in number compared to other Home Fleet deployment zones. There were only two helicopter carriers in the region, displacing a mere 20,000 tonnes- small compared to other aircraft carrying vessels in the nay’s arsenal. For an enemy like the cartel, submarines were somewhat ineffective against an asymmetric threat.
Reinforcements were en route to the area, but it would take time for them to arrive and more importantly, even more time for convoys to be properly organised.

Satellite intelligence was sketchy- only one cartel base had been fully identified on the north cost of Holy Panooly. An average size costal town, population unknown, but a pirate haven definitely. ULTRA, the Imperial Special Forces group, had been given the task to disrupt operations in the town. Four ships had been assigned to the task of assisting the ground forces- one of the helicopter carriers, Caesar, the frigate Bellerophon, the corvette Striker and the logistics support ship Kitchener. The Caesar was carrying a complement of Osprey aircraft, which would be used to deliver the special forces team. The plan was simple. The main force would stay far out at sea, while the corvette would close in on the port and fire anti-ship missiles at any, if not all ships in the port. The ULTRA team would be parachuted in before this. Forty men, in four-man teams, would HALO jump into the drop zone. They would then spread out across the urban area and port. Anyone carrying a rifle would be “pacified”, as the briefing officer phrased it. The teams deployed at the harbour would destroy any missile batteries they found. Local people assisting in repairs or putting out the fires on the ships would be considered as hostile and dealt with as such. The team members were instructed that planning would be left to their respective leaders for their respective tasks, from destroying fuel dumps to massacring the supposed crew quarters, it was their operation to plan. Timing was left to them. Their escape route would be provided by semi-submersible craft that would be deployed by the corvette after the fighting would end, hopefully enough to get them all back safely. The return would be carried out at night, hopefully while the pirates were licking their wounds. The task force was still in port, but there were to be no rehearsals. This operation was put together quickly and would be carried out as a sign of intent to the pirates that the Imperium would not sit idly to wait for help.

The task force set sail the next day, and would wait until nightfall until getting into range of the cartel port. Further reports reached the Caesar about pirate attacks, believed to originate from the target port. The commander of the flagship, Commodore Paulus, felt almost powerless. An oil tanker had been attacked, and an audio distress call had been issued. It ended with the sound of rifle fire, at close range. It could only be assumed that the tanker was taken. The tanker’s last coordinates and heading would have been intercepted by South Sea Command by now. Paulus knew what would happen next.

Echo-190 had been scrambled at short notice. A maritime patrol aircraft, Echo-190 was a Scimitar-type aircraft, and packed a hell of a punch. Four anti-ship missiles, Seafires, one of them was enough to cripple the mightiest of aircraft carriers, and two rocket pods to finish a job. But E190’s target was not a flat top. An oil tanker had been presumed taken by pirates, and E190 was en route to deal with the only action possible. Maritime Warfare Regulation Five: should a vital logistics or high value vessel fall into the hands of the enemy, with no chance of recovery, the taken ship must be sunk to prevent the enemy from taking advantage of the contents of the ship. This rule applied to merchant ships as much as a warship. The pilot of E190 had made good time and could track the ship on his radar. He could also contact the ship via radio at the range he was at. He tried hailing them, but met no response.
“MV Distant Wanderer, please respond to this message. If you do not we will assume you taken by pirates and will sink you. Respond.” No one did. The pilot could do a fly by of the ship, but that would risk damage by gunfire at close range. A risk to far. The pilot called to the missile operator behind him.
“Jack, lock target on radar, two missiles. Launch on my command.”
“Aye sir, target locked. Range, Forty five miles.”
“Set the missile’s visual IR target finder to aim for the superstructure. Set the second to hit them amidships.”
“Roger, inputting commands.” It was an advanced piece of equipment, and it was about to be fired in anger for the first time. The commands were inputted, everything was ready. The missile operator called back.
“Everything’s set. Range twenty five miles.”
“Fire missile one!” The missile dropped from the launch pylon, fired it’s booster up and set a course for the tanker. “Fire missile two!” The same process happened. Twenty seconds passed, the weapons specialist watched the two dots close on its target, and peered over to the visual camera feed from the missiles. Then, the feeds turned to static; the two dots became one with the dots of the ship. From the cockpit a cloud of smoke began to develop in the distance. The pilot took the aircraft in for a closer look. The first missile did its job well, destroying the superstructure. The second directly hit the port side and had ignited some of the oil stores, and the fires were spreading. There were some surviving pirates on the starboard bow of the ship, on the top deck, hoping to reach their own small ship on that side. E190’s pilot decided to show a different form of mercy, other than letting them burn or drown. The Scimitar swooped in on the pirates, and let loose a salvo of rockets. They were blown off the deck immediately, either into the water or into the cloud of smoke. E190 withdrew to a safe distance, and launched a final missile into the top surface of the now listing oil tanker. The result was spectacular, igniting almost all of the oil. By the time the aircraft returned for a closer look, the ship was barely recognisable from what it was. The smaller pirate ship went with it. Its mission executed, the plane returned home.
A costly victory, but protocol demanded it so. Another victory was due for the next day. The pirates in the area would not feel safe by the end of the week.

Northwest of Tarn, Sealanes
Defenseless prey, in a shark tank ...

The FBM (Fedala Bukes Mercánts) Tíer'har, a large cargo ship, was sailing southwards, out of the region to a far off destination. It was carrying heavy agricultural goods, such as tractors, harvesters, distributors and the like to nations which imported heavily from the Empire. It had left Port Kramer, in the newly crafted province of Iben'rial, around six days prior and had ignored warnings of impending piracy in the area it was currently sailing in. It's commander, Captain Daví Jer, was sure that the Imperial fleet in the area would protect him of shipping. He understood that several merchant ships had been severely mauled in the past days, but he was also certain that the Imperial reaction would be swift and effective. Besides, his company had money to lose if the ship's time schedule was stalled. In such long-range range trade agreements there was always much money at stake, and this meant the survival of the captain as a captain. Capitan Daví Jer and the Tíer'har continued southward. The low waves splashed against the colossal hull of the ship. Indeed, the ship was one of the largest to sail the seas, save for those ridiculously monolithic 'super dreadnoughts'. She would be a beast for anybody to take over.

Indeed, although she had no external armament, the hull was well protected against breaches made on the hull, whether through a mine or by means of a torpedo. The well designed bulkheads allowed her to keep afloat, even after multiple impacts, although some torpedoes could break her keel. Her steel hull, with absolutely no use of aluminum or magnesium, made fires hard to start and easy to put out. She was quite the survivable ship. During the War of Golden Succession the Tíer'har had barely escaped conversion into a flat-top escort carrier. Many of her sister ships had suffered this fate, and were used throughout the war to patrol the Western Havenic coastline, making sure any remnants of the Havenic fleet could not escape to the East and to enforce a full-time blockade on the nation from trade originating from the West. These proved cheaper and faster to construct than actual fleet carriers, and therefore had been a lucrative choice. On the other hand, the end of the war meant that most of these ships were scrapped and new merchant ships, of a newer class, were built to replace them. In any case, the crew of the merchant ship was aptly armed with automatic rifles and even light machine guns, which had become normal on the onset of the War of Golden Succession, due to the risk of enemy boarding parties taking control of Macabee heavy cargo ships. A small percentage of the crew could make use of light Mekugian-designed SA-33 man-portable surface to air missiles, useful against helicopters and low flying aircraft.

However, in no way was this ship ready to survive a fullscale onslaught. But, nobody expected one to occur. Pirates, naturally, operated to gain wealth. Outright sinking a ship would not gain any wealth, it would just be an expenditure of funds - such as the procurement of the weapons used to sink the enemy ship. On the other hand, Captain Daví Jer's men were well prepared to fight off a boarding party, or at least heavily damage one while it ransacked the ship. The point of the matter is that the ship's leadership and crew felt themselves relatively safe enough to continue sailing southwards, ignoring radio transmissions suggesting otherwise. The captain was in the tower, flanked by his executive officer and others in a 'leadership position'; i.e. those who had control over large portions of the working crew. They looked ahead, through the thick plastic windshields which divided them from the outside atmosphere. Most of them had a smug look on their face, certain that they would reach the targetted port within a week. Most of them were not even thinking of the potential danger of a pirate attack.

However, the executive officer was. 'Captain, do you wish that I spread the order to prepare armaments? We would be safer if all of our men had their personal weapons on hand, or near them. If a pirate does attack, we might not have the time to react and arm ourselves, especially when a large percentage of our crew will still have to be working to make sure this ship continues to sail properly.'

The captain thought about for a minute, turned his head and responded, 'Perhaps you're right, Georg. To ensure proper maintenance of the ship's duties, divide the crew into twenty batches and make them grab their weapons one at a time. Tell them that this is for emergency measures. Furthermore, ensure that these are not chambered and are on safe. We do not need accidental deaths on my ship. Do not distribute the missiles. Instead, have them deployed around the deck of the ship, ready for use if we are attacked.'

One of the other sailor's mouth twisted and he commented, 'Capitan, we should be weary about the decline of crew morale. A pirate attack is not something which has been experienced by the majority of this crew before. There will be mixed feelings of fear and excitement, and it might just not be good for the ship. It could slow us down by a number of days, which honestly could be just as dangerous as leaving the ship unarmed.'

The man has a point, thought the captain. In the end, however, he wasn't worried about a two-day offset in the original time table. Due to storms, such retardations were normal, and it wouldn't result in a massive loss of capital - as opposed to loosing the ship. It was, in other words, a very dangerous and serious lottery. But, the captain had made his decision, 'Arm them.'

The ship's crew members were warned in groups, and they were given a short period of time to go to their cabins to pick up their weapons. Onboard 'officers' were given keys to the armory, and the right to distribute the rifles amongst the men. The rifles were a hodgpodge of weapons, actually, all in the same caliber - civilian Hali-53s, for example, and even military Hali-53s. Some rifles were older Hali-42s, rechambered for the 6.64mm round. The distribution of the weapons took about two hours to complete, but by the end of those two hours every man had a rifle 'chow slung' around his shoulder and across his back, or very close to him at least. One without his rifle would be dead if it came down to a pirate raid. Officers oftentimes looked over them, to make sure no man was without his weapon. There was no room for a fault, as an attack could cost the life of every crewmember and the wellbeing of the capital represented by the goods it carried. Furthermore, the loss of the ship, in general, would be a gargantuan loss. Heavy weapons were brought th collection points near the deck of the ship, and select 'gunners' were told of their positions and ordered to take control of them in case of attack. Two crew members were put aside to provide early warning, and to sound the alarm when the attack began. This was the best the captain could do.

In the tower, he thought to himself as he looked at the sheer expanse ahead, if this ship is attacked, by head will be the one which is chopped. He meant metaphorically, in regards to his career, as opposed to his fate if the ship was 'taken over' by pirates. In the end, he probably preferred the latter anyways! But, he was in no position to regret, as his decision was his decision - the ship sailed onwards ...

Mictoalán, Mainland Theohuanacu
The die is cast...

Sergeant Derk Tenabrol looked ahead, squinting to attempt to see past the dark cloud of smoke which had formed after his artillery gun had fired once again at an indiscriminate target some thirty kilometers in front of him. He could finally take his fingers out of his ears, as he had gotten some earplugs from a nearby commander, who was a friend of his. So, now he could focus on seeing if his artillery gun was actually doing damage. Sometimes an artilleryman had to look for the impact of his shells to get some excitement of his job. Indiscriminite bombardment of a city was not the funnest of tasks, especially if there was no counter-shelling. It must be remembered that most of these men had been battle tested during the War, and operations in Theohuanacu were really a string of 'strides through the park', despite unnecessary maintenance problem with the majority of Imperial equipment. As a consequence, occupation duty had become rather tedious. Only 'special units', such as the Díenstadi Régulies had continuous combat operations, or even Macabee infantry units. Others were simply used to overwhelm. In any case, Sergeant Tenabrol's attempt to see the city he was hitting was foiled once again when the 203mm fixed-gun fired yet another round. The cannon shuddered after a powerful thud, and the area was swept with the black fumes of the powder. This, it should be noted, was joined by the same noise from dozens of guns spread over a large surface area, pummeling the 'pirate city' in front of them.

The elimination of these pirate enclaves had become a priority once the first spearheads began to encroach upon the southern areas of Theohuanacu. At this time, most units were still operating in the north or in the center, crushing several nomadic tribes and setting up in the capital of the country, but some operations in the south - mostly raids - continued. In this case, an infantry division, with five artillery battalions attached, was told to take the small city and raze it to the ground. The taking of prisoners was left to their discretion - in other words, no prisoners. This one had been found purely by luck, as the roving mechanized spearheads had begun looking in the area for a possible local source of fuel to keep some of their scouts moving. The logistics lines were becoming lone and tedious, and some thought operations would have to be postponed until some time of intermediate supply areas were set up in the center of the island. Some scouts, as a result, followed a group of nomads moving southeast, and soon fell upon the outskirts of the city. Originally, the call had resulted in an immediate airstrike at the docks, to make sure those ships went nowhere. But, apparently, not all the ships had been destroyed and so many pirates were able to escape. But, the majority of those who lived under the pirate flag at Mictoalán would soon be dead.

The sergeant could see one of the radio operators put his fist up, and he walked over to see what was going on. Arriving, the radio operator - a private - asked the sergeant if it was possible to get the commanding officer of the battery. This didn't take much, as he signalled over to Captain Henrik Derteal and this man walked over as well. The captain raised his right eyebrow and said, 'What's the issue?'

The sergeant nodded towards the private, and then looked back to the captain and said, 'Looks as if we've got new orders, boss.'

The captain's face changed emotion, but he nodded and knelt onto one knee and took control of the radio, saying, 'Echo-Echo-Six, this is Hotel-Echo-November-Romeo-India-Kilo, over. What are the new orders, over?'

A response was quickly heard, 'Hotel-Echo-November-Romeo-India-Kilo, this is Echo-Echo-Six. You are to switch over to more selective targets. Your battery will have its orders downloaded through the battle net.'

'Roger that Echo-Echo-Six, out.' With that, the captian put the phone back on the hinge and looked at the private and said, 'See, private, it's not so fucking hard now, is it? Next time, you get the fucking orders and you tell me or one of your other superiors. Don't waste my time again.' He looked over at the sergeant, and decided to chew him out too, 'Sarge, you should know better, damn it.'

The sergeant smiled, 'For sure, boss.'

Rolling his eyes, Captain Henrik retorted, 'Is this dumbass in your units?'

'No sir, he belongs to another gun. My men are better trained, trust me.' He and the captain had known each other for years, and the sergeant was expected to replace the current first sergeant of the battery and become the primary advisor of the captain. Most of the men knew of their friendship status, so there was absolutely no point in hiding the truth. There was no doubt a degree of nepotism when it came to the captain handing out rewards and when it came to deciding who would be treated the best.

As the dust settled when the bombardment had already ended, the sergeant walked over back to his gun. He had been counting the time. Over the past hour, the battery's twelve guns had pounded the city with some three hundred shells. In total, it was thought that some ten thousand shells would hit the city over the expanse of the hour. For the most part, this meant that the city was theoritically destroyed. Houses would be in ruin and the dockyards would be unworkable. Ships that hadn't made their escape earlier would now find it extremely difficult to do so. One could hear the outbreak of gunfire in the distance, and this signaled the beginning of ground operations to literally seize the city. This part of the operation would turn out violent, with a lot of resistance. But, there was no point in hypocrisy. Men, women and children alike would be massacred to make the 'occupation' faster. In the end, the city would have to be razed to the ground. Besides, the Empire wanted to send the message that those who lived under piracy would also die by the sword. There was no mercy. Enemies of the state were enemies of the state; they were treated as well as other nations would treat terrorism. The Empire did not play tricks on itself, and that was a fact that could be seen throughout its long history of violence.

Within the time it took to occupy the city, the artillery battery was already moving closer. Other batteries had received orders to offer the infantry supporting fire, and Captain Henrik's battery was told to close the range to provide it with much more accuracy. Unfortunately, these were all towed guns, which meant that it would take some time for them to set up in their position. The occupation, on the other hand, would not take as much. Infantry units had already begun to burn certain sections of the city, closer to the outskirts. They were rooting out those that they had missed, most likely shooting them on sight. Some women might have been allowed to escape with their children, but they would have no aid from the soldiers, and the mercy depending on the soldier encountered. A women who was let free could just as easily be raped by the next passing infantryman. There had been rumors that during the occupation of Theohuanacu, in the north, one soldier had let a local woman go due to her beauty and asked his mates to leave her alone. But, she was raped by a series of four men. The rumors ends with her suicide. Regardless, it would not be beautiful; it would not be something to tell in a history book of a 'politically correct society'. Of course, the cynical, blood thirsty population of the Empire craved for this type of news - to hear about the suculent and red-tinted profit in human fiat.

Whatever one was to say about the situation, one thing was clear. The Díenstad Cartel had met its match...

Waters between Theohuanacu and Adaptes Astrates, near the northern approaches
All cats at night are grey...

The HES Arquebus was a 42,000 tonne Ingerier class battlecruiser (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=10380844&postcount=1134), fully armed to the teeth with around twenty anti-shipping missiles and nine 355.6mm guns. It was antiquated in terms of the Kriermada's new 'all-missiles' doctrine, but it would serve the role of hunter-killer well. It was commanded by Captain Lor Restían, another veteran of 'the War'. She sailed southwards, as far away from the FMB Tíer'har as geographically possible, as to not give her position away. She was screening the ship from behind, perfectly aware that the huge cargo ship was a lucrative target. If the pirates did not see him, which they would not, this would provide for the perfect ambush. The Arquebus was kept aware of happenings through some eyes and ears. These were manifested as a single LAMPS helicopter, flying closer to the ship, and two unmanned aerial vehicles which were nothing more than long-range early warning airborne RADARS, keeping an eye out for hostile ships. Anything that came into range would be blasted into bits and pieces, as the Ingerier was a tough foe. Its heavy steel-alloy armor would make it very difficult to sink. It also had the advantage that since the beginning of the bombardment of Mictoalán, aircraft and submarines had been keeping track of pirate ships moving out of the harbor. So, there was descent coverage of the entire relevant portion of sea. In other words, a pirate attack was doomed...

[OOC: I have to end it here, as I fear my computer will shut down on me.]

Somewhere South of Adaptus Astrates

A simple raid this time on a very simple target by a very simple Cartel ship, this time an oil tanker belonging to the Merchant Navy of Adaptus Astrates had been attacked and captured by the privateers. The Cartel ship was particularly weak, no bigger than a brown water coastguard boat and only a few weapons including heavy machine guns and RPGs but more than a match for an oil tanker, within minutes of radar contact the vessel had fired rockets at the superstructure and peppered the bridge with machine gun fire. The skirmish couldn’t have lasted for more than six minutes before white flags were flying from the windows of the superstructure that was undamaged in the attack, minutes later grappling hooks were used to get the over zealous Cartel Marines onboard the vessel. They captured the officers of the ship and with typical ruthlessness and brutality they killed the rest of the crew in various ways.

It may have only been an oil tanker but it was one of the greatest prizes a Dienstad Cartel captain could hope to capture. Indeed it was only an oil tanker but it was flying an Astratii Merchant Navy flag and that alone was a prize. It was common knowledge that the government of Adaptus Astrates was a very close ally to Stevid and the country itself was a member of the Holy Empire and thus fell under its anti-piracy policies. Stevidian waters were some of the safest in the world thanks to the Royal Navy and their continued anti-piracy raids, profits in and around Stevid were never high but they certainly could be lot higher. The Holy Empire was the Cartel’s greatest threat and now the war had ended it meant the Holy Empire had refocused their attention on piracy, striking a blow against the Empire was one of the major goals every pirate wanted to achieve, if the Holy Empire established control of the seas in and around all of her territories then the Cartel would cease to function. With the war over and actual diplomatic progress being made by the former enemies meant that the whole region could start to rally together and utterly destroy the Dienstad Cartel. Fighting the Holy Empire’s anti-piracy effort was vital to the survival of the Cartel and thus any Imperial ship (especial commercial shipping) was to be either captured or destroyed, in this case the ship was an Astratii oil tanker than had been captured.

It had double significance to the Cartel as well, the Dienstad Cartel was renown for it ruthlessness in battle, both in ship-to-ship and man-to-man conflict, but most of their foreign targets were not quite so ruthless in return which gave the Cartel an advantage when it came to ransom demands and terror tactics. When a member group of the Cartel threatened a government body with the execution of hostages they were always taken seriously because the pirates would kill everyone they caught if they didn’t get their way (in most cases the hostages are killed anyway) Governments and military forces alike reply with increased force but none quite like the Astratii government and military. It is well known that Stevid and the Holy Empire have zero tolerance for piracy and exercise extreme measures to apprehend pirates and interrogate them, killing them if necessary. Adaptus Astrates has now grown famous for upholding this principle but then taking it a step further. Being so far away from Stevid and being so close to the Dienstad Cartel’s base of operations their shipping is targeted on a regular basis. Annual lost revenue and deaths rise sharply every year and thus their military has responded to the Cartel’s ruthless acts with equal ruthlessness and sometimes verges on mass murder. It is not unknown for a party of over a hundred pirates to seize a vessel belonging to Adaptus Astrates only to be pursued by Astratii ships and aircraft and then utterly destroyed without communications being established. Every time one of the Cartel’s pirate groups has been detected by the Astratii defence force it almost always ends in the death of every pirate and the loss of shipping. On average a pirate group that is attacked by Astratii forces gives the actual group 0.8% chance of survival, Adaptus Astrates forces are that ruthless and efficient. A pirate’s worst nightmare it to come into armed conflict with an Astratii aircraft or ship because death is almost guaranteed, at least with Stevidian, Hitmen or Golden Throne shipping there is a good chance of survival. Only the most well equipment ships in a pirate fleet can hope to survive an encounter with an Astratii military unit.

The tanker had been seized an hour ago and much to the delight of the Captain of the pirate ship most of tanker’s crew had been killed apart from three officers including the Captain. Half an hour later they revealed the combination of the ship safe and the money was taken, another ten minutes gave the pirates access to the main computer so that a course could be plotted. This is where the good news ended, with the computer online one could see what had been done before the attack, a distress beacon had been activated and had been calling for help since the pirate fired on the ship with rockets. The pirate vessel was not equipped with ECM/ECCM technology or the very basic EMP weaponry that would have been used to block the distress signal. Adaptus Astrates would have undoubtedly sent a ship or a fighter plane to intercept the pirates in full knowledge that the vessel would probably have been captured. The pirates dug around the computer to find the radar array but couldn’t see any aircraft or ships but it didn’t matter, like Stevid the Astratii anti-piracy forces would respond without delay but unlike the Royal Navy the Imperial Navy or air force would take every step necessary to kill every last pirate and remove the ship from existence. The remaining tanker crewmen were killed, it mattered not since they were all doomed. The Pirate captain gave the order to abandon ship before the enemy would arrive.

It was two little to late, as soon as the pirate crew made it out onto the deck a giant anti-ship missile tore into the superstructure warping the exterior and vaporising the chunks of the interior with flames. The effort to get off the ship quickened but minutes later another missile slammed into the ship, this time on the portside amidships. The explosion tossed the tanker in a very unnatural and nauseating way and the explosion itself sent many pirates flying into the sky. The explosion ignited some of the oil, oil itself being very difficult to ignite showed just how explosive the missile was, it was obvious that the enemy were trying to sink the ship. Oil poured out and splashed the deck and the pirate on it, the pirate ship was on the starboard side but the grappling hooks kept her in place, as the ship listed heavily to port the small boat was dragged out of the water with the skeleton crew still on board. The crew managed to steady themselves a bit and then they saw their enemy. A distant object high in the sky, just a single plane but very formidable, her engine noise pierced the sky with a low roar as she passed over the stricken tanker as if the pilot and gunner wanted to see their handiwork in close-up. It was a Scimitar-type attack aircraft, a tool that Adaptus Astrates used often in anti-piracy skirmishes, obviously armed with anti-ship missiles and probably rocket launchers for their was no threat from other aircraft. The plane swooped in low on an attack vector towards the tanker’s stricken port side an unleashed a torrent of rocket fire that quickly purged the majority of life on the deck and set further slick of oil alight. The barrage left the deck scarred and warped with little left to identify the ship as an oil tanker, only the huge slick caused by the attack showed it used to be an oil tanker. The Pirate captain and several crewmembers survived the attack, their ship was still intact and had been protected by the hull of the tanks as she dangled on the other side of the vessel. But much to the survivors dismay a sinking tanker was not good enough for the Astratii air force, only total obliteration would suffice and the captain knew it. The aircraft seemed to have disengaged and only appeared as a small grey dot in the beautiful midday blue sky with only the black oil smoke tainting the sky. A distant flash of white light was the tell-tale sign of a missile being launched and the crew’s screams did little to stop it on its course. The surviving crew jumped into a slick of oil that hadn’t caught fire yet while the captain scrabbled to the railings to try and free his vessel from the hooks. Seconds later the missile struck the ship and the resulting explosion was simply cataclysmic, oil that hadn’t ignited quickly did and the tanks inside the tanker ruptured resulting in an explosion that tore the ship apart from the inside out. The captain failed to release his vessel in time and the explosion engulfed the pirate ship resulting in a smaller less spectacular bang. The scene was shocking as the carcass of the tanker quickly disappeared below the waves, unrecognisable as a ship at all, while its oil remained burning on the surface. The environmentalists would have a fit but undoubtedly the Astratii government would find some way to justify the destruction of the tanker to the population without sounding like Stevidian lapdogs.

The plane circled to confirm the kill and all that was left to show there had been an incident was the burning slick of oil that would bring more pirates to the scene to begin salvage operations. They would find the charred remains of one of their vessels and equally charred corpses of their pirate friends serving as a warning. Anti-piracy activity had stepped up a significant notch with over twenty vessels destroyed within a month and over four hundred men lost, these sort of casualties were higher than the annual average which obviously meant that the nations in the region were banding together to start a full blown crackdown on the Cartel’s operations. Attack reports were coming in everyday showing that ships had been destroyed by naval vessel and aircraft belonging to the Macabees, Independent Hitmen, Adaptus Astrates, the Holy Panooly Coastal Defence Force and the Stevidian Royal Navy. It was a certainly a campaign that the pirates were most definitely losing, and one-on-one engagements never turned in the Cartel’s favour.

Northwest of Tarn

Captain Dellimore of the Lunar corvette was one of these up and coming pirates of the modern era. Rising through the ranks from when he started at Privateer at the very young age of eighteen, he quickly distinguished himself as a capable sailor and an exemplary pirate. He rose to the rank of Captain two months ago at the age of twenty-two and was already in command of an entire raiding force if one could call it that, this was more like a tiny task force than anything else. The Lunar was a stolen Stevidian Royal Navy Type-23 Duke Class frigate with all the usual refinements, improved communication equipment and tactical data, the helm controls had been modified and as too has the weaponry. The ship’s 4.5 inch cannon had been replace with a six inch rapid firing gun and the machine guns had been simply replaced with higher calibre models, other than that there was not much the pirates could do to an already excellent ship. The missile VLS tubes had been modified to no longer launch just the Gothic Type-II AShM, when the ship was captured the missiles had been quickly used but Stevidian supply transports were hard to target these days and so bog standard SM-3s were used by the Type-23. She was flanked by four other vessels, corvettes and all heavily armed for their size with one utilising a small VLS block for anti-missile missiles but other it was a fairly unremarkable fleet. Captain Dellimore was in command of the Lunar and the entire fleet and had left a pirate stronghold in Holy Panooly two days ago with orders to take and hold on of the biggest prizes of the year.

A huge freighter belonging to the Golden Throne’s civilian merchants had left their harbour a day ago with a simple deployment south of the region where they would transfer goods to importing countries. An unremarkable cargo ship if it wasn’t for its size, the ship was called the Tier’har and was exceptionally well built with reinforced bulkheads and had been designed by some of the finest men in the shipbuilding trade back in the Macabees. She was worth more to the pirates than gold bullion itself and much to the shock and delight of the Cartel’s warlords in command of the local sea sector she was not escorted. Such a big prize required a larger and significantly more powerful fleet to take her and then defend her while the pirates would sail back to port. The warlords would have preferred the use of the light aircraft carrier but that was busy south of the Stevidian waters helping drug smugglers into Stevid, however a frigate would be more than enough to take over the Tier’har and escort her back with the rest of the corvettes. Captain Dellimore had been shadowing the cargo ship for several hours before giving the order to attack the ship, there were no foreseeable threats to the fleet and sonar had not picked up any uninvited guests lurking beneath the waves. The attack went ahead as planned, the Lunar deployed her Comanche attack helicopter while she steam full pelt towards the tanker. Sailing well ahead of the Lunar were the four corvettes who wasted no time in pounding the less important parts of the hull and superstructure with RPGs and cannon fire, machine guns peppered the deck at the sailors running around in the open and several shots were fired at the bridge. However one of the corvettes reported that they had taken damage and suffered two injuries from enemy fire and it become obvious quickly that the Golden Throne had take additional measures to defend their merchant sailors personally rather than just escort the tankers. Captain Dellimore upped the pressure and fired his own deck gun in anger at the Tier’har which continued to stay resilient to enemy fire, the deck crew took cover in the super structure and continued to fire machine guns at the passing corvettes. Casualties were mounting on the pirate side with several privateers killed and a dozen or so more wounded by the pot shots taken by the tanker crew, it was only when the fire support from the Lunar came in that resistance began to lessen. The explosive shell scared the deck but did little significant damage to the vessel itself but the crew were getting caught in the explosions and soon the pirates were in control of the waters around the Tier’har. It was more than likely that there would be sailors armed onboard and that they would have to be taken care of as well. It mattered not, the pirates were going to kill every last person on the Tier’har anyway, they fact that they had returned fire just gave them a bit more justification for the mass murder.

Privateer Frigate Lunar

Captain Dellimore stood looking out of the plastiglass windows of his frigate as the huge cargo ship grew closer and closer, the light waves tossing the hapless ship back and forth. It was indeed a huge prize for the pirates and it would be difficult to capture completely, these days a ship of that size could be controlled by twenty people since most of it was automated but judging from the combat reports from the Lunar’s four escorts meant that there were in excess of thirty to forty sailors on the vessel with most of them armed. Charcoal smoke rose from apart of the superstructure and from a tiny smouldering portion of the deck where small fires had started due to rocket fire from the corvettes and gun fire from the frigate but otherwise there was no long term damage save a few battle scars on the hull. She was in fine condition for capture and her crew would pay dearly for opposing the Cartel.

“Status reports please gentlemen.” He asked the bridge crew.

The First Officer snapped a salute and pushed a few buttons on a nearby console giving him a system wide analysis of major combat and defence systems. “Deck gun and missiles are full operational sir, point defence measures are inactive at this time- no radar signatures have been detected likewise no sonar contacts either. ECM jamming is continuing, I am unsure whether or not the vessel got a distress call away or not but they were not escorted so it could be several hours. We have enough fire power to tackle an air patrol or a cruiser with minor escorts. All systems are fully operational and working at peak efficiency .”

“Good but be wary of surface and air contacts. She’s a big ship and this find is almost too good to be true. I know we have been tailing her for a day but I’m sure the Empire wouldn’t just let a vessel like this sail through such dangerous waters.”

“Aye sir we’ll keep an eye out, visual and on sensors.”

“Good. Gimme the speaker.” Dellimore asked, he would shout out to the Tier’har and explain that they were to be boarded. If the pirates had any honour or regulations to follow then this was one of them, it was always customary (maybe even polite) to inform a helpless vessel that they were going to be boarded by pirate marines and this would be no different. “Commanding officer of the Imperial Cargo Vessel FBM Tier’har. You are out numbered and out gunned, your homeland has neglected your safety and they will pay the price. Resistance, as we have proved to you now and to your fellow captains in the past, is futile and a waste of resources. You challenged us with firepower and you will bear the brunt of the consequences. You will be boarded by our Marines and we advise against armed conflict, these are highly trained mercenaries and react badly and lethally to enemy fire. Do yourselves a favour and throw down your weapons and go quietly without opposition. No one has to die needlessly. Boarding will commence immediately.”

The Captain returned his speaker phone back to its holder before turning to the communications officer on the other side of the bridge with a sinister look on his face and with a wide smirk. “Send orders to the Marines: Expect minimal and sporadic resistance. Take no chances kill everybody on that ship but try to keep the officers alive. However, take no chances with anyone else… slaughter the crew.”

The officer nodded and began to relay the orders to the marines. In minutes Dellimore could see the marines in tactical formation on the deck of the Tier’har advancing towards the superstructure. Several sailors walked out with their arms held high above their heads but they were all gunned down on site. About twenty professional soldiers were now on deck and after the shootings more gun fire erupted as the Macabee sailors returned fire from the gantries overhead. The corvettes opened fire with their machine guns to suppress the sailors enough for the marines to get inside the ship, mortar fire crashed towards the aft of the ship where more sailors had been spotted. The fire fight was short, swift and serious one sided and it wasn’t long before the Lunar received word that the Marines had captured the seized the bridge, captured the officer and were ‘interrogating’ them for information while search and destroy teams sought out further resistance.

“This is Captain Dellimore to all ships. Stand down red alert and go to yellow alert instead. Congratulations everyone, we’ll all be exceptionally rich men in a couple of hours.” He was about to continue until there was a beeping noise being made from the radar operator’s station. “What is it Privateer?”

“Vessel detected, location RED 025, speed 25 knots and has just entered sensor range!”

“Go to battle stations, inform the fleet to get into formation and tell those marines to hurry up and get that ship moving away as quickly as possible!”

The crew bustled about quickly as klaxons sounded on all ships, the marines on the Tier’har all returned to the superstructure as the giant screws slowly turned. The Captain was still anxious for more information and the warfare officer continued to scan the hostile closing ship and compare the specifications with the stolen Stevidian tactic super computer on board.

“Come on people! I want answers here! What are we up against?” Dellimore exclaimed, obviously agitated with everyone and himself. He couldn’t believe that they’d missed an escort ship particularly one this big. The radar operator turn to Dellimore with the colour drained from his face and an obvious look of terror.

“Sir… the vessel closing has been identified by the ship’s tactical computer as the HES Arquebus of the Macabees’ Kriermada. It’s a 42,000 ton battlecruiser of the Ingerier Class, lots of missiles and some pretty hefty guns…and… she’s within weapons range Captain.”

Theohuanacu

The Macabee artillery had levelled most parts of the ‘city’ into nothing more than burning ruins. Warlord Nakamora’s palace had not survived the barrage and had taken up to twelve direct hits from the huge enemy artillery. At first the shelling was not very accurate since the guns were positioned so far away and it was obvious to the pirates and civilians inside that the enemy were softening up the base defences before beginning a full ground assault. But once the artillery had moved up and received more detailed coordinates about the base and the harbour the real onslaught began. The shelling was indiscriminate, military and civilian buildings alike were being hit, but buildings were destroyed by direct hits and in the case of the Warlord’s ‘Pleasure Palace’, several direct hits.

The harbour had not survived either, enemy aircraft had made short work of the flimsy harbour walls and the makeshift, and quite pathetic, piers and docking ports. Artillery rained down on the harbour and several shells wiped out the harbour master’s control tower and the rescue boat’s dockings. Pirate ships began to make a desperate bid to escape before they were all trapped and some did make it out, one cruiser and eight corvettes but most of the ships could not escape in time. The several captured tankers in dock were targeted by enemy fire and quickly sunk leaving little room for the pirates to sail in, they would soon be destroyed by artillery with such little space to move in.

On the ground half and hour later the ground invasion began. Mechanised infantry vehicles swept into the town and disembarked their transports to begin the clear up. Like the artillery, they cared little between pirate and civilian, man or woman- every moving thing not wear Golden Throne colours was a potential enemy. The screams from men, women and children echoed through the streets as the houses, shops and brothels burned violently. Many women were caught up in the mix and it was obvious to the soldiers just why there were so many women there, the sex industry was particularly rife in this pirate cove much to the disgust and pleasure for the soldiers.

Women were spared violation in some cases and some were brutally assaulted in other instances, depended solely on the sort of soldiers they ran into. The Macabee military was a seriously professional bunch and raping was probably not tolerated and this notion was probably enforced but it might not have stopped some soldiers enjoying themselves. But the killing continued, pirates that hadn’t time to return to their vessels dashed out into the street and opened fire on any soldier they could see. As urban fighting ensued the odds tipped massively to the trained soldiers of the Macabees. The pirates’ gunfire was inaccurate and panicky and resistance in many parts of the city was quashed without mercy. Surviving corvettes in the harbour realised what was happening and tried to deliver fire support to their troops and began shelling suspected Golden Throne troops. Truth be told, they actually had no idea where the enemy was, the cove was lost and so it mattered not who they killed just so long as they killed somebody.

Morning was approaching and then the enemy would be able to completely wipe out resistance in the cove by midday while the surviving ships that escaped the slaughter would have to seek refuge somewhere else in the region.

The strike group had taken off in the transports from the Caesar at sundown. For the deck crews that weren’t on duty, it made for a spectacular sight. The spectacle of them flying past the setting sun made the crew’s hearts glow with pride. Only two aircraft had been launched to drop the Special Forces, while three others were dispatched with rocket pods to give fire support if necessary. It would be a short trip to the drop zones, at most half an hour. The men inside the Ospreys were making final weapons checks, cleaning their NVGs to the last speck of dust that may have landed on an eyepiece, and staring at the maps they had been issued with the target areas and objectives highlighted.
The flight passed quickly, and one by one, the four-man teams departed the aircraft at high altitude to make the HALO jump. As soon as they landed, they began to advance on their targets.

Late evening, off the coast of cartel port town

HIMS Striker could clearly make out the coastal town, to coastline lit up by street lights and the lack of a blackout. This meant the pirate vessels docked in the port were highlighted by this thankful illumination, as the Striker’s main gun crew would not need to rely much on infra-red and night vision goggles. The crew was more than capable, but such a visual contact was greatly helpful because it helped with more precise targeting. The trimaran corvette had yet to be noticed. Must be partying, pirate scum, thought Captain Jones, master of the vessel. He hated pirates and everything they stood for. He, like many other imperial commanders, believed that no mercy should be shown in the face of piracy. Naturally, he felt no remorse for the brutal sinking of the MV Distant Wanderer, knowing they got what they truthfully deserved. Now it was his turn to show brutality, in the form of a 3” gun and sixteen Harpoon missiles, armed and ready to launch. At ten o’clock in the evening the ground units would be in position, and it would be his task, his duty, to begin firing on pirate vessels and port facilities. It was like a great game of chess, with all the Imperium’s pieces placed to deliver the killing blow. And so the Imperial military would deliver justice to the scum of the sea…

Crew quarters, coastal town, 2134 hours

Iota Team was only twenty metres away from what they judged to be the pirate crew quarters. In fact, judgment had little to do with it. When they made visual contact with the building, two men with guns were arguing over who would get a take away meal. Eventually one of them typically resorted to readying his rifle, and the other left. Captain Garro, leader of Iota Team, decided this would be the team’s window of opportunity to get in and get out with very little notice. As soon as the man getting the meal made his way back, one of Garro’s men walked along with him, albeit at knife point.
“Keep your bloody mouth shut and just keep walking. There, that’s a good boy.” The two walked up to the front door, the streets mostly deserted or everyone was inside partying over stolen goods seized earlier in the week. Garro and the rest of his team linked up with the Astratii soldier and his ad hoc hostage just before the door way. Garro began the operation. The rest of the team stood to the wall sides next to the door. Garro drew his silenced pistol and stood directly behind the pirate who in turn stood in front of the doorway. His pistol was carefully placed down his back.
“Knock.” He sinisterly whispered to the pirate. The pirate was too frightened to talk, let alone resist. He did as he was told. Inside, another pirate, the one who was arguing earlier, came to the door. He was swaggering, laughing loudly as he came to answer the door. He opened it. Garro fired, his bullet passing right through the first man and striking the second, and they both fell to the floor. The other three ULTRAs quickly stormed the building. The first ULTRA turned left to casually open a door, very calmly. Nobody had time to react, as he opened fire with his suppressed MP5, on full automatic setting. The same went for the rest of Iota, it didn’t matter who was in the room, as long as it ended as quickly as it started. Garro dragged the body of the first guard into the building, resisting the temptation to grab one of the ribs in the packed meal. The job was done, and Iota team left for the RV point.

Epsilon Team was on the dockside. They began to carefully place trip wires at selected “choke points”. Hopefully, once the Striker began firing, the pirate crews and dockside workers would be killed in the rush to save the ships. Captain North, the leader of Epsilon Team, and one other soldier began to climb up to the tops of two buildings near their private kill zone. He and his team were veterans of the Hyperborean War, taking part in dozens of missions right into the heart of urban areas held by the enemy. They barely escaped with their lives from an air strike on an enemy town, and even wreaked havoc among the armies of the enemy. They knew how to survive a hot situation. North and his men would kill inside and outside, topside down and as they came through the streets. Then, on the dot of ten o’clock…

Off the coast…
“Stand by. Launch in Five, four, three, two, one. Fire!” Yelled captain Jones. He had always wanted to say that. The first Harpoon rocketed out of its silo, arcing upwards into the sky, and then descending rapidly toward the first target. A missile boat was the nights first target, with some of its crew were enjoying the company of a stripper for their evening’s entertainment. They had barely a clue of what was happening. The missile landed right on top of the boast. The explosive shock wave rocked the port. It certainly caught the town’s attention. People came rushing out of their houses, apartments and makeshift homes. Just as North and Epsilon Team had wanted. Striker fired another missile, followed by a third. They struck their targets with unerring accuracy. Each explosion tore their targets apart, the harbour turning into a sea of fire. The corvette then brought its main gun to bear on the harbour.
“Gun crew, you are at liberty to fire on the dockside as well as vessels in the port.” Jones went outside onto the top deck, hearing the distant sound of gun and rocket fire. The Ospreys must have begun their attack run, and the Emperor’s finest would be wreaking chaos inside the town. The 3” gun began to fire, reload and fire again, occasionally turning to find a new victim. Another Harpoon was launched, this one ordered by the Executive Officer. He Notice that one pirate boat was being boarded by its crew, and they would surely try to find the Striker and at least get a missile hit. If they had infra-red target finders, then they would pick up the corvette. It was a stealth ship but they were still visible on IR locaters. Better safe than sorry, the XO began to order more missile launches. Jones gave further direction to the gun crew. Inside the town, the ULTRA teams had stirred up a hornet’s nest of activity. Seemingly unexplained shootings and explosions were spreading across the town. But the ULTRAs were like ghosts. Until members of Epsilon Team were spotted on the roof tops. But so many people were heading down to the dockside that nobody heard the calls for help. No ships were spared. The navy corvette had fired all but three of its missiles, and Jones ordered the main gun crew to fire a few more shots on the dockside, and then ordered the ship to head for the rendezvous point. The ULTRAs began to creep their way to the dockside. Attacking from right angles to avoid crossfire, the Astratii began to massacre their helpless, pitiful victims. Rifle fire, pistol fire, grenade launchers and conventional grenades, everything they had was utilised. After about thirty seconds, the Special Forces withdrew. The fight had been brought to the cartel…

Bridge of the FBS Tíer'har
Beginning of naval action...

Captain Daví Jer's hopes for a safe voyage sunk as he felt the first 152.4mm shell splash his ship's hull with water and is felt just short of the ship. The next shell hit, unfortunately, the deck, causing an explosion which rocked the colossal holl of the Tíer'har. The 'small' shells ripped open gaping holes in the deck, as it was unarmored, and threw crates overboard. Sailors ran around like chickens with their heads chopped off, afraid of the raking gunfire, while the pirates closed with the freighter. The ship's alarm had gone off, and most men inside the hull were preparing themselves for their personal defense, but for those on deck fear had gotten the best of them. By this time four more pirate ships had opened up with their machine guns, as they pulled alongside the ship, but it was difficult for these corvettes to pepper the deck since they could not match the Tier'har's height. As a result, more often than not they found themselves targetted by panicking sailors taking pot shots with their assault rifles. However, the larger pirate frigate had more or less put an end to that by beginning to hit the hull with the 152.4mm rapid firing gun it disposed of. Daví Jer looked on and thought to himself. You're the capitan, God damnit. Think of something. Organize a defense. Those pirates might sink the ship, but they're not going to get anything out of it!

He suddenly sprung to action, looking at his executive officer he said, Order the men to retreat back into the bowels of the ship. We will defend them using the advantage of the fact that we know the layout of the ship, the corners, and the rooms. We will ambush them, making them pay the taking of the ship with their blood. We should hold a quantitive advantage in crew numbers, as well, especially as their numbers are limited to the embarking crew.'

The other man nodded and left in the other direction, while the captain made his way to his quarters. He would have to arm himself there and then get back to the crew. During the Great Civil War he had fought as a soldier and he knew one or two things about how to organize a proper defense. He told his navigators to continue to move south while the battle continued, and told two men to arm themselves and go to the navigation quarters to make sure noone fled. The defense of the ship would rely on its ability to continue to move, even if it would have to go to a nearby port to repose and head back to the Empire to be patched up. The captain moved quickly, while he listened to the frigate's gun pound the cargo ship into submission. Soon enough he began to hear the distant drumming of small arms fire, and he assumed the worst. It wouldn't be long before a full fledge firefight began within the ship, he supposed. As he moved through the bridge, and quickly into the hull of the ship to the captain' s quarters, sailors were asking him for defensive orders, whilst holding their rifles. Their faces showed fear mostly, although some were apparently willing to fight - peace had gotten to their heads, the captain guessed. The truth was that most of these sailors were ex-soldiers, looking for jobs after the war, and the merchant shipping business was one of the largest growing industries in the Empire.

One sailor, an infantryman in the [i]Ejermacht, ran up to the captain and asked, 'Captain, we need to organize a defense on the deck. They will climb up to the deck, and if they can consolidate there then they can attack us in force. I think we have a good chance of pushing them back, otherwise.'

The captain stopped and thought, but he soon heard the low woosh of a helicopter flying overhead. Shit. If that helicopter could torpedo the ship it would send panick through the crew. He looked at the sailor and said, ' Jín, get the men you can and do what you want. Near the doors to the deck should be surface to air missiles. Use these and take-out the helicopter.'

The other man nodded and set-off. Daví Jer kept moving to his quarters, ignoring the pleas of his sailors. He would get back to them soon enough, but now he needed to get his armament. He tripped and fell on the floor with a thud when the ship rocked due to another hit from the pirate's 152.4mm gun, which had probably hit something explosive near the deck - in of the crates. Captain Jer could barely get up, and he could feel a sharp headache suddenly form near the frontal lobe of his brain. His right hand naturally moved to touch his forehead and when he brought his hand back down he could see his fingers covered in blood. Dark red blood began to drip onto the floor and he finally noticed that he had cut his forehead with the drop, and he sighed. This is getting more difficult. He slowly got back up, but he was quasi-dazed and so couldn't get moving very quickly. Other sailors saw him fall and attempted to help him, but he pushed them back. He slowly got moving towards his cabin, once again, and the sailors watched them - confused. The noise from the deck no longer preoccupied him as he turned his cabin into the primary objective. But, soon thereafter he fell on the floor again and this time his eyes closed ... he was getting too old for such a battle. This time, however, the sailors kept moving past him. They had more important things to do, such as prepare to defend their lives.

All eyes looked up for a brief moment, as they felt something that wasn't a shell hit the ship ...

Deck of the FBS Tíer'har
First victory...

Jín Gres, the sailor who had stopped the captain some minutes before, had no trouble finding and manning the SA-33 man-portable surface to air missile launcher. These were slightly outdated, but they were still the only man-portable launchers issued to Ejermacht personnel. He knew how to handle them, and although he was an infantryman he had practiced with them during the tough basic training he was subjected to. He picked up the launcher skillfully and did the basic checks. He checked the venturi to make sure all the blast flaps were straight, and then checked to see if the missile had been loaded correctly. The deck was in chaos, but Jín was able to get around the fires, men running around and the explosion of shells. He positioned himself behind one of the cargo bins, which had been moved by the shockwaves of the explosion, to hide himself from the ships and from the helicopter. Most of the attention of the pirates was placed on the sailors armed with rifles, shooting ineffectively at the helicopter and at the ships below them. Dead men were strewn across the deck. Some of them were missing entire body parts, including some men ripped in half, and others with their heads severed. It was a massacre, but most of these sailors had never seen a close quarters battle in their life. Jín knew differently.

He first took off the first safety of the weapon, and then placed it on his shoulder. Moving quickly, he turned the corner of the block, ignoring gunfire, and pressed down on the red safety button on the opposite side of the trigger. He shunned himself as he forgot to cock the weapon, and used his left hand to push the cocking lever forward and then back into a groove, as to lock it. The left hand then went back to the secondary safety button and he quickly aimed at the helicopter. This all happened within a number of seconds, and as soon as the missile's computer started to track the target he fired the missile. A plume of smoke engulfed him, causing him to cough and move away, but the missile was well on its way. He turned back the corner before he could see what happened, and the gunfire impaired him from hearing, and so he decided to go do something else. He only had one missile to fire and it had already been expended. Looking around he shook his head at the amount of dead and wounded. He grabbed one of the Hali-53s dropped on the floor by the one of those who had been hit, and he decided to use it for his own purposes. All the while, he moved back into the bowels of the ship - there was no use in staying outside.

While he was moving in he saw some men moving out and he put himself in front of them. When they questioned his actions he replied, 'No, we need to keep inside and organize a defense. They will be on the deck soon, and we can fight more effectively from the inside, where they will be bottlenecked. We are a huge ship, and they have misinterpreted the ease of taking a ship of this size.'

One of the other men said, 'We're going to need a bigger group than this.'

Jín looked at him and retorted, 'Well, let's go recruitin' then, boy'.

HES Arquebus, around the same time
An example of the application of firepower...

Captain Lor Restían had a smug look on his face as his executive officer read aloud what the Arquebus was about to send to the sea. A large Stevidian-made frigate, and four smaller corvettes. It wouldn't be the first time the captain would send a Stevidian ship to the bottom of the ocean, and it was partially ironic that his next big fight would be against a new enemy, but the same ship. The Stevidian government wouldn't find it amusing that one of their stolen ships had been sunk by a Macabee battlecruiser, especially since they still liked to bring up the failed Imperial operation at Otium Aqua up. The captain thought of the situation in his head. On one hand, he had complete fire superiority and could outrange those ships dramatically. On the other, they were close to the merchant ship and he wished to avoid collateral damage, although the damage would not be grave enoughto sink her. But, in this case the issue was friendly damage versus ensuring the demise of five pirate warships - no small booty. In any case, he was reassured by the fact that the situation was still to his advantage.

With no further adieu he looked over to his executive officer and ordered, 'Open VLS tubes one through ten.'

The other man paused at first, but quickly responded, 'Aye, aye, captain.' He had learned a long time ago not to second guess Captain Lor Restían, as the man knew what he was doing, and he did not want to create problems in a time like this. He and the captain had had long conversations on naval tactics, as he was getting his own ship soon enough [whenever he was to get promoted], and Captain Restían had been kind enough to teach him what the captain had learned during the War of Golden Succession. It was no secrete, in any case, that the captain was going to get promoted to the rank of commodore soon enough, which meant he would probably get a surface raiding group.

Captain Restían continued, 'We're going to sink all five of those damn ships. I'm going to put a dent in these pirates that they'll never recover from.' Besides, everyone knew how important this victory would be if they sunk five ships. A multiship count was rare amongst a captain, and this would certainly make Captain Restían a contestant for the most tonnage sunk, although he guessed that those who had sunk super dreadnoughts during the War were more eligible for that category! Regardless, he smiled and said, 'Boys, this is how you fight a battle.'

It took some minutes for the verticle launch tubes to be opened and readied, but by then the captain was ready to fire. The command room's computers had managed to get five independent targetting solutions. Soon, all could hear the orders, 'Fire tubes one, two and three at the largest frigate. Tubes four, five, six and seven at each of the corvettes. Hold tubes eight, nine and ten in reserve. We might need them.' A few seconds later, 'Open the remaining tubes.' With modern close-in protection systems one was never sure if the missiles would sink their targets.

The shipped shuddered as the Sledgehammer IIs left their tubes, covering the deck with white smoke, with streaks of black. These sledgehammers were powerful missile which would arch high and then hit the ship from the top, limiting the efficiency of close-in defending guns. The captain was not worried about the damage, as one of those missiles would send the ships to the bottom of the sea. Given the penetrating cap it was likely that it would plow through the deck and if it didn't explode it would also plow through the keel and then explode below the keel, having the effect of a modern torpedo. In effect, the torpedo would be close to ripped in half, causing the ship to break apart and sink in two separate pieces. It was not a fun way to lose a ship, but it was a great way of sinking an enemy combatant. Sinking these five ships would also make the pirates think twice about attacking Imperial merchant ships, although they had already declared war by threatening the trade routes of the Second Empire.

Sensing an attempt at 'retribution', Captain Lor Restían ordered, 'Rudder forty-five degrees right.'

'Aye, aye captain! RUDDER FORTY-FIVE DEGREES RIGHT,' confirmed and repeated the navigation officer.

The navigator confirmed and repeated, 'Aye, aye sir! Rudder forty-five degrees right.'

The captain was opening the distance between him and the pirate frigates and corvettes. They were trapped between the wall and a sword, and the battlecruiser's large guns could engage them at range as they tried to fleet. Besides, the helicopter could easily put a torpedo in the water to cripple the ships if they tried to escape. This was assuming they survived the missile strike.

Admiralty Building
Georgetown, United Kingdom

"That's a damn shame, Ivan, a damn shame." Radovan Noskovic leaned back into his leather chair taking his cup of tea with him. Bringing the china to his lips, the steam briefly blurred his vision of the man with whom he had once served in the war against the UK. At the time, Noskovic had been the executive officer for Ivan Lemontev aboard a submarine based out of Poldi'sk—before the city's obliteration. Miraculously they had both survived the war—especially so considering the ruthless efficiency of UK ASW work throughout—and they had both managed success in the political realm. Noskovic represented the centre of Zvolen and Lemontev his hometown of Nitra.

"And as you can imagine, my constituents are rather pissed. This makes two whole shipments that've been written off."

Noskovic smiled wryly at the implicit implication—the firms that had depended upon those supplies would be less inclined to support an MP that had done nothing, or appeared to have done nothing, to stop the piracy. The First Lord of the Admiralty took a sip from his cup, a strong blend from Sarnia flavoured with cream and sugar, before reaching the heart of the matter. "So what would you like me to do, Ivan?"

"Send some damn ships, Radovan. It can't be that hard."

"Formally, I need to acquire the permission of George," Noskovic replied, referring the Oceanian monarch. "He's the commander-in-chief. And I can't skip the step of consulting with the Prime Minister either. And you know him, consensus government and all, it'll take three rounds of voting to figure out exactly what the hell the problem is."

Lemontev sighed, then stood. His long legs carried him across the First Lord's office, adorned with bookshelves replete with historic first-editions and framed copies of colonial-era maps of the Home Islands. It was only owing to Noskovic's heritage that a single map of the historic Kingdom of Novikov hung alongside the maps of Azazia. "Well what do you need, Radovan?"

Noskovic nodded slowly. "At this very moment, Ivan, not much at all. The bill that got us into the Accord passed with overwhelming support not just from the Government, but from your party and that of the Loyal Opposition as well. The economy is still good and the people are feeling rather content—we're doing rather well in the polls."

As Noskovic paused, Lemontev turned around to find his old friend leaning in across his desk, hastily scribbling something onto a piece of off-white paper with the pen he had received after taking command of his first submarine. "This," Noskovic continued, "is a reminder that you met with me today." The First Lord tore the piece of paper from the pad and after folding it neatly, put it aside on his desk and continued to write upon a second piece of paper. "This is for you, reminding you that we met." When finished, Noskovic tore the page off and handed it to Lemontev, who swallowed hard. The two had almost the exact same career path. Except for joining opposite political parties.

"If I can get the Government to move on this for you, Ivan, we shall consider this a record of indebtedness. There may well be something I or the Government needs from you and if and when that time comes, remember this piece of paper. If not, we can always talk to your fellow party members, your whip, et cetera."

"I understand."

"And after all the defections from your party to form my party, well, they'll likely feel a bit nervous about this whole affair."

"I understand."

"Give me a few days and I'll see what I can do."

HMNB Melbourne Western Docks
Yarrow, United Kingdom

Douglas Eads leaned over the large glass table, covered in maps and glossy prints of satellite photography. The details highlighted the various inlets and coves of the areas in and around Theuhuanacu and Holy Panooly. "I only like the southern approaches, sir. Whilst the numerous islands to the east present a patrolling problem, I should rather prefer to have the manoeuvre room in the south than the more constricted waterways to the north." Eads straightened himself out as he stood, and pulled the reading glasses from his face, folding them neatly before replacing them in his breast pocket. "These pirates, sir, are still best equipped for short forays from coastal areas and if we take a more central route through the far wider southern approaches I shall have a greater response time."

"This will still be a problem, Douglas," an older full admiral added, pointing out the narrower straits between the islands bisecting the sea.

"Indeed, Admiral. But if we are to homeport in Tarn, we either ingress through those narrows or the narrows to the east or the north. And without any intelligence about a significant force presence protecting that strait I should prefer to take my chances there."

"Very well, Douglas, very well."

The two looked out the large plate-glass window that held a view over the naval base. Along several piers were various cruisers and frigates taking on supplies. Smaller destroyers and corvettes were at the smaller piers in the Eastern Docks in Melbourne and Bathurst. Anchored in the deeper parts of the bay at the ends of the larger, longer piers were two M-class fleet carriers, their aircraft stationed ashore but flying overhead on training exercises. All told, his force would total nearly forty vessels inclusive of his small submarine force and his replenishment vessels. Not all were stationed before him, the amphibious vessels were sailing in two days from São Expeditus and the submarines from Faro. His dreadnought and battlecruisers were to sail from Devonport in three days' time and the helicopter carriers from Kingston also in three days' time. It would take nearly a week to assemble his small force—but nobody expected the pirates to be gone within a week.

"And I shall have operational control of RAF assets, no?"

"Indeed, Douglas. I have spoken with Air Marshal Robertson and I have his word on the matter. Besides, if approved, they shall still be largely dependent on your Air Arm for defence and interdiction."

Eads smiled, it always helped to be an officer in the senior service. "Are there any indications as of yet as to the support I shall have in theatre?"

"Fedala is involved in operations in Theuhuanacu, and likely have significant assets in theatre they could mass to put down this pirate network. Additionally, Stevidian assets—and those of their allies—will likely be in theatre if not available for coordinated action. Otherwise, I am unaware of any forces whose primary mission is the eradication of this pirate network."

That was a small point of solace for Eads. With no territory to hold or real interests to insure, Force D, as his command was to be known, could operate without any significant concern as to interruptions to its base or supplies from the pirates. Fewer allied assets meant the likelihood of sinking pirates increased. The worst ramification, however, was that resupply convoys to Tarn would be under greater threat. For few nations would have the need to resupply in such numbers other than the UK—but it was a threat that could be mitigated with a heavy convoy escort presence.

RAF Addington
Addington, United Kingdom

Located along the banks of a wide, slow-moving river, those posted to the RAF aerodrome enjoyed barracks and recreation facilities with a view. Airman Thomas Cooke kept his equipment near his feet, waiting under the sub-tropical sun for his barrack's lift to the tarmac. While most of the RAF deployment to Tarn for anti-piracy operations would originate from fields in the western Home Islands, Addington hosted a ready squadron for deployment to secure facilities for the use of the RAF. Cooke and his comrades expected no problems, their superiors having informed them of the city's recent fall to Macabean forces. It was, however, standard procedure, in order to protect sensitive Oceanian equipment. Furthermore, Eads requested their presence for nobody had negated the possible capacity of the Cartel to launch raids against land-based targets, let alone how far inland such raids could be expected to occur.

Cooke watched the sleek-looking bus roll up rather quietly to the corner. In an effort to demonstrate progressiveness, the RAF had switched to electrically-powered vehicles for on-base transport—and that included base shuttles. He grabbed his gear and climbed aboard along with his barrack-mates for the fifteen minute drive to the tarmac. Two hours after that, the Atlas cargo aircraft would be in the skies en route to Tarn.

The flight was largely unescorted along the length of its route, much of it to cross the Pacific and other bodies of water. Cooke attempted to read a book, but found it boring and then plugged his headphones into his iPod. He watched with minor interest as Squadron Leader James Henry personally inspected the stowed gear. Cooke's checked out alright, and Henry walked on to the next person's before finishing up and headed down to the cargo deck.

James Henry, unlike Cooke and most of the men in his unit—a squadron keeping in line with his unit's affiliation with the RAF—had seen limited action. At the outset of the Novikovian War, as a flight leader, he had been stationed at RAF Bedric, a small, volcanic island located midway between the United Kingdom and Novikov. Nobody, least of all the green Henry, had expected it to develop into a war-long siege underground. After a Novikovian invasion elminated the aerodrome, the RAF Regiment units—along with the remnants of the Army and Royal Marine units that had fought the lost battle—retreated to the caves and underground bunkers. Out of nearly 200 persons, Henry's unit found itself with a mere seventeen by the war's end.

Walking along the mobile surface-to-air missile launch vehicles, the actual ammunition in a following aircraft, Henry hoped that for once the Royal Navy could actually be counted upon. He was privy to the intelligence reports, a pirate navy with aircraft carriers and dreadnoughts could have the capacity to attack ground installations. And as he looked towards the utility vehicles, with heavy machine guns mounted, he hoped what he had would be enough—if it came to it.

Satisfied that all the equipment was handling well in-flight, Henry returned to the cabin and found the commanding officer of the RAF component of Force D reviewing several maps. "Wing Commander," he spoke rather loudly over the raucous din of the engines. "Everything aboard is within specifications, sir."

"Splendid, Squadron Leader. I expect no problems when we land—nor for the duration of our stay—but nonetheless, I expect the quickest possible perimeter to be established once our guests explain our area of operations. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

The Citadel
Georgetown, United Kingdom

"Good afternoon, Prime Minister." Radovan Noskovic entered the office of Rodney Ingrahm rather late in the day, the tall, slender grey-haired man already sipping afternoon tea.

"Do come in, Radovan," Ingrahm replied, waving the First Lord to take a seat across from him in one of the more uncomfortable sofas in the United Kingdom.

"You wanted to discuss the anti-piracy deployments, correct, sir?"

"Indeed. I trust they are all underway without any significant problems?"

"Yes, sir. The Royal Navy component shall be ready to sail in eight days. The RAF has begun to ship the requisite equipment and actual aircraft shall likely be arriving late tomorrow. And of course the Royal Marines that we discussed for conducting ground operations against the various loci of pirate activity will be sailing with the Royal Navy task force, termed Force D." Noskovic poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher set out neatly in crystal upon the coffee table separating the two men.

Ingrahm placed his cup upon its saucer and then fell back against the sofa. "Truthfully, Radovan, what level of casualties are we to expect?"

"Definitively, sir? I can't say. However, these aren't like pirates we're accustomed to. Hell, they're not even like what we…I mean the Novikovian Navy, did during the War."

Ingrahm nodded. The opening stages of the Novikovian War had been primarily economic in nature—more or less. Novikovian submarines forces sank hundreds of thousands of tonnes of Oceanian merchant shipping, in an attempt to drive up the price of commodities being sold to Oceanians by the Novikovians.

"These are a ruthless lot, sir, and they aren't going to go down easily. I suspect we shall lose a few ships and aircraft. Eads, the admiral in command, he's good, served in Haven, and he won't be likely to underestimate the pirates—but ship captains and the officers in charge likely will."

The United Kingdom had long committed itself to reducing piracy to a more manageable level. As a maritime nation it depended upon safe transit across the seas. With trade high already between Novikov and the Second Empire and forecast to increase between the whole UK and the Second Empire, securing the sea lanes in the Second Empire's region was now critical to the national security of the United Kingdom. Ingrahm simply hoped the electorate could understand that.

"Very well, Radovan, I want you to keep me up to speed on the operation, understood?"

"Yes, Prime Minister."

"Now, what is this I am hearing about problems in Port Elizabeth…"

Southern Seas, 1821 hrs local time

The MV Blue Voyager had been on the run for two days now. Ever since the first contact with their raider craft the merchantman had constantly been on alert to shake them off. The four small boats, each armed with a medium sized deck gun and one of the boats at least was carrying a missile, would occasionally get close enough to take a few pot shots at the Blue Voyager’s hull, command section or engines. Bad weather favoured Captain Reynolds’ ship. He ordered her into a storm only the day before, hoping his ship could endure the force of the waves more than the cartel boats. They took the hint, and backed off temporarily until the storm died down. Reynolds and the ship’s company were lucky to still be on the right side of the surface of the water. A freak wave hit the ship the night previously. One of the crew thought it was close to one hundred feet high, but it didn’t matter, they had survived- just. The bridge window were smashed, a number of hull breaches had been discovered (thankfully not as serious as they could be), the radio mast had been torn from its supports and had been left in the sea, while the engines were struggling to get the ship past twelve knots. We don’t need the pirates to finish us off], Reynolds thought to himself. There was very little he could do now but pay that the pirates did not come again or that an Imperial Navy warship emerged on the horizon. Where’s a warship when you really need one?, as Reynolds remembered only a weak ago they passed HIMS Flanker. He was good with warship spotting, and he knew a ship like the Flanker could alone take on a dozen of the ships his vessel were battling. The only weapons he and his crew had were a few M4 Carbines and semi-automatic pistols that the company had provided them before setting sail, and the naval convoys were being organised for ships leaving imperial ports, but the Blue Voyager
was returning from a long voyage, so no escort could be provided, and none would come without a communications tower to send an SOS.

The sea had finally calmed down after the rough seas previously encountered, thanks to the shallows the ship had taken to take refuge from any more rough seas. That was the only good news. The cartel had inevitably returned, spotting such a ship in these waters. The same four ships as before, but they could see a vulnerable target, asking to be raided.
“There’s no way we can outrun them sir! We have to scuttle the ship!” The helmsman yelled at Reynolds in a terrified state. Reynolds was just as terrified, but he had to remain focused. Think man, think! There has to be another way! He came to his senses.
“De Ruyter, take three good men and make ready to scuttle the ship! Helm, full stop! Everyone else… arm yourselves!” He was going to go out with a fight. Maybe he could lull them into a false sense of security and ambush them as they boarded, maybe even go on to kill them all. The cartel would board the ship no matter how hard he might try to run. The crew had a few minutes to ready their weapons. For a small(ish) merchant vessel she had a large armoury. De Ruyter and his men hurried to get the charges in place and ready. Reynolds spoke down the ships intercom to De Ruyter.
“De Ruyter! As soon as you and your men see them coming down their, do it!” The small boats closed in, and eventually pulled along side to fire grappling cables onto the main deck. The ship’s company, about forty men armed overall, took up positions to defend the bridge and the routs down to the scuttling points. Engineering was abandoned after the ship had come to an unnoticeable stop. Reynolds and a few men were on the bridge, hiding out of sight below the windows, while a few men guarded to stair case leading up to it. He moved toward the stairs, keeping his rifle low.
“Listen lads, its going to get a bit rough in a moment, but know this, you have all…” A rocket flew into the bridge through the exposed windows. The force of the blast threw the captain and a few men down the stairs to the shock and surprise of the men in the lower corridor. Those men still on the bridge were either killed outright or were now terribly burnt. Reynolds himself could feel a wound in his back. The nearby door from the outside deck was flung open, and a grenade was chucked at the helpless men in the corridor. Those would it didn’t kill were swiftly finished off by machine gun fire. A few crewmen returned fire, but it was futile. Two of the men who had survived all this on the stairs fired wildly from around the corner at the pirates, only to be killed instantly by a well placed pump-action launched grenade. A man on the bridge, heavily burnt, stumbled to the intercom, and turned it on.
“Do it!” He shouted desperately. A pirate burst onto the bridge, and shot the crewman in the leg, and then shot the intercom.
“Do what? Tell me!” The crewman was in shock, both because of his injuries and that no explosives had gone off in the depths of the ship. De Ruyter was either taking his time to get it right, or dead. Reynolds was barely alive, trying to reach a pistol from a dead body. Someone deliberately stepped on his hand. He looked up. A pirate, and one who seemed like he was their leader, judging from his distinctive beret. He looked down at Reynolds.
“You run for tow days from us, using ever last desperate and suicidal trick invented. Then you stop your ship so easily without even trying to buy time or immediately blow the ship. Did you really think we’re that stupid?” Reynolds, battered, bruised and wounded, grinned with irony.
Something rumbled an explosion of some kind. This threw everyone standing off balance. The charges had gone off, and the ship was starting to sink. Reynolds reached for the pistol and fired without looking, the bullet striking the pirate leader in the shin.
“No greens for you, bastard.” Reynolds said, referring to the vegetable cargo the ship was carrying. The pirates quickly evacuated, leaving the ship to its fate.

Southern Seas Command, Mawport, the next day

“… and then there’s the MV Blue Voyager, they lasted reported themselves as being harassed by pirates and heading into a storm to try and shake them off. We’ve received no further contact from them.”
“So the storm got them or the storm crippled them and the cartel came in to finish them.” Commander James Barrett had been reporting all incidents of note to the anti- piracy commander of the South Seas Command, Ray Butler. This was the latest of such incidents.
“The Flanker had passed near to them only a day or two before they went missing. She didn’t escort them because of a general targeting malfunction, not good for anti-pirate escorting.”
“Has it been rectified?”
“I checked on it sir, apparently they are back up and running. I can have her head to their last known position.”
“I was just about to say that, make it so. What of this merchant ship, was it armed?”
“Yes, it had small arms aboard for self defence against boarding parties. I also read the captain’s profile. Seems like the kind of guy who would use them.”
“Relevance?”
“I think we might have some casualties if they’re alive.” Butler sighed. He never was one for merchantmen to resist pirates, it just led to merchant crew casualties and a lawsuit complaining about putting guns in the hands of amateur users. It was an annoying part of the job, but it was all justifiable- the right to self defence.
“Anything else?”
“I do have a suggestion, sir, if I may go ahead?” Butler nodded. “We’ve been a bit passive in dealing with the cartel. Sure that special forces operation was a sing of what we can do, but we can’t find anymore bases to attack so we’ve been reduced to a wait-and-see approach.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Q-ships, sir.” This caught Admiral Butler’s attention. The look on his face said he was interested and wanted to know more. “I looked at the specifications and layout of the Blue Voyager and some other designs, and if we could install some guns control systems, a three inch cannon, maybe some Javelin missiles, onto the ship and hidden by crates on the deck, we could catch the pirates by surprise and achieve some good results. I’d like to start out with one ship at first to see if this plan works, if I have your permission?”
“How long will it take to make the upgrades?”
“A couple of weeks. I’ve got a ship lined up and a few friends in the dockyard that re willing to work overtime, but its worth a try no matter the time it takes.” Butler could see the young commander’s enthusiasm, and shared his hopes for results against the cartel.
“This whole operation will be under you command. Whatever you say, the men under your command will do it. Whatever you need, you’ll get it. Make it happen. Dismissed!”
“Thank you sir!” Barrett saluted, then left the room to begin his audacious plan…

+ + Priority Two-Beta Clearance Required + +

*_* ACCESS USER: Flt Adrml. Derek O’Donovan
USER ID: 1654-Charlie-76208-Zulu-00870

+ + ACCESS GRANTED + +

*_* Welcome Fleet Admiral O’Donovan (HMS Helix)

+ ROYAL NAVY REGIONAL ASSETS AND OPERATIONS
+ FLEET OPERATIONS
+ + ANTI-PIRACY
+ SOUTHERN CONTINENT
+ + DIENSTAD CARTEL
+ + + COMBAT AND ANTI-PIRACY SITRAPS
+ SUMMARY REPORT

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Current Status of Allied Anti-Piracy Activities and Success Rate

The Admiralty has recently transmitted this message to all high ranking officers in the fleet to fully inform them of the current situation regarding the Dienstad Cartel and their operations in the Southern Continent, a continent in which the Holy Empire as one key asset as well as several important trading routes.

The Dienstad Cartel has now been placed on the back foot and their stranglehold on the region’s trade routes in the south is beginning to weaken. Major players in this combat zone which have significantly contributed to the drop in pirate activity are Adaptus Astrates and the Golden Throne of The Macabees. Both these nations have been commended by the Admiralty for their active role in the South to curb the piracy.

In short, the Dienstad Cartel is unable to combat our professional navies which have now begun all out assaults on several pirate coves and surface fleets. They have already lost four heavily fortified coves to both of the above mentioned nations, the Golden Throne has recently stumbled across one in Theohuanacu whilst pursuing rebel forces. The cove was attacked and subsequently destroyed by the Golden Throne Army. Several pirate attacks have been thwarted by the Astratii Air Force, their rapid response times have been excellent and already two trading routes have been free from pirate activity for two weeks now, no incidents reported so we can assume the Cartel have abandoned raids on Routes 8J-Y and 8J-K. Other nations, including Stevid, have sent small task forces to aid in the objective of ridding these waters of piracy altogether.

We have confirmed now that the Dienstad Cartel no longer has a surface fleet that can directly threaten any allied forces in these sectors. Eight enemy destroyers have been sunk and only a single frigate is reported to be still in action with the Cartel. Their fast patrol ships are numerous but their numbers fall sharply on a weekly basis as we continue to hunt them down. Stevidian submarines have also launched land attack missiles at a pirate offshore refuelling station eight miles south of the Disputed Zone to the south of Theohuanacu. Several ships were reported to have been refuelling at the time, the rig was completely destroyed and is currently burning out of control. The submarines further report that a pirate cove was discovered on the shore of the disputed zone not far from the refuelling site. Further missiles were fired at the docking ports and main structures on the land. Casualties are not known but 87% of the cove was destroyed so estimates are aiming high, all ships and tankers at the port were either destroyed in the initial attack or were sunk while trying to escape by Royal Navy submarines.

+ + LOCATIONS AND SUBMARINE INDENTIFIERS ARE CLASSIFIED + +

Pirate activity is still very strong around the islands that dot the seas between Theohuanacu and Holy Panooly. This is a grave threat to Stevidian sea trading routes and certainly a concern for other foreign trading routes, routes affected are 8G-A through H and 6P-L through N. It is advised all fleet commanders concentrate efforts to this shipping lanes and to the islands between the aforementioned countries. The pirates make a great deal of bounty around these parts and their activities must be stopped or at least the attacks must be quelled enough to allow ships to pass through them safely.

This finial summary report relates to the Southern Continent of the Greater Dienstad region.

The Southern Continent is the primary location of the Dienstad Cartel, its military bases and coves used for trading and as harbours. Holy Panooly coastal defence force has been relatively unsuccessful in their attempts to rid the Cartel menace from their waters, the Royal Navy is putting this down to the HP coastal defence force’s incompetence, reluctance to conduct proper piracy investigations and under-funding. However in the great expanse of the sea that separates Theohuanacu and Holy Panooly there has been an entire wealth of success in defeating the Dienstad Cartel.
The Cartel have lost almost all of their high quality surface attack ships with only a single frigate remaining, they do still possess a large fleet of fast attack boats and corvettes but these are of little concern to our own warships.

Success varies to nation to nation; The Golden Throne of the Macabees has been successful in several engagements including the destruction of three pirate craft that were attacking a giant transport tank bound southwards out of the region. Independent Hitmen have also been in action in these waters and, while not destroying any pirate craft, have uncovered vital information on pirate tactics regarding assaults on ships and what occurs while the pirates loot the ships. The results are sickening as it seems the pirates enjoy killing the crew before leaving the target ships lifeless hulks. The Royal Navy of Stevid has not yet seen action in the seas around the Southern Continent but has seen much action in other seas in the region. The most credit for disrupting pirate activity in these waters must go to Adaptus Astrates. It is safe to say that they fight fire with fire and match the ruthlessness of the pirates with their own counter attacks. Already Adaptus Astrates has destroyed 60% of all pirates shipping attacked in the Southern Continent sector and has prevented the pirates from capturing and stealing actual shipping from the merchant navies in the region. While this has resulted in the destruction of many innocent ships it also means the pirates do not gain an additional prize.

Official reports now suggest that the seas surrounding the Southern Continent sector are 86.8% free from pirate activity so long as escorts and anti-piracy duties continue.

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+BACK
+ + ROYAL NAVY REGIONAL ASSETS AND OPERATIONS
+ FLEET OPERATIONS
+ + ANTI-PIRACY
+STEVIDIAN SOUTH SEA AND SOURTHERN GUFFINGFORD ISLANDS
+ + DIENSTAD CARTEL
+ + + COMBAT AND ANTI-PIRACY SITRAPS
+ SUMMARY REPORT

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Current Status of Allied Anti-Piracy Activities and Success Rate

Our own Royal Navy is already world famous for its anti-piracy duties across the many oceans in the world, we are more experienced in handling pirates on a more peaceful and more hostile basis. Our successes in the Southern Straits of Stevid and South seas off Guffingford have been remarkably good; however the pirates here have taken notice to the more extreme raids off Holy Panooly and have moved their heavier equipped vessels into more open seas. This means we are facing stiffer resistance from the Dienstad Cartel who continue to defend their piracy raids and their trading coves to the death. Our losses are proportionate to these increasingly bloody attacks with a loss of over eighteen destroyers, five frigates and one cruiser. The Illustrious Class anti-piracy carrier HMS Winged Avenger was heavily damaged by an enemy ambush comprising of six destroyers, two submarines and one carrier that they sole from us nearly four years ago. Two of our ships were destroyed and the flight deck of the Winged Avenger was damaged to such a degree that aircraft could not operate from it to act as a defence. This particular battle was West of the former Moleland colony and, as you have read above, resulted in defeat for the Royal Navy.

The enemy carrier is identified as a hijacked Royal Navy Illustrious Class CV and is equipped with several planes that we believe were purchased under a different national identification code before the shipment was subsequently attacked and seized by pirates only several months ago (SEE: Piracy Engagement {Merchant} ?#0076346). This sort of engagement is still rare but is becoming ever more common, however it is becoming more and more obvious to the Dienstad Cartel and all region naval powers that the pirates themselves no long have the resources to continue mass pirate action or maintain a large battle fleet like the one they currently possess. MI6 and allied intelligence services report that piracy manpower has drop 80% in the past eleven weeks and their main capital ships (especially the carrier) are operating below their optimum efficiency and thus will be easier targets for our naval forces. Bearing this in mind it shows that our current tactics of directly attacking pirate strongholds is indeed a sound tactic as opposed to simply increasing anti-piracy patrols. The need to physically destroy pirate coves, trading posts and military dry docks is crucial to the destruction of the operation, the reduction in their manpower and recruitment and ultimately the elimination of this particular cartel.

Our new colonies on the islands south of Guffingford have turned up new pirate coves that merely act as servicing stations and are currently being removed by local Territorial Army services but it shows that the cartel has minor strongholds scattered throughout the region that we previously didn’t know about. Pirate actively south of Guffingford is sporadic but numerous nonetheless since our resources are pushing further eastwards rather than west or south. It isn’t too much of a problem now that the Royal Navy has some large assets in that general area but attacks on unprotected merchant shipping and light targets like escort ships are frequent. Attacks on merchant shipping in and around the former Moleland colony are somewhat more intense and it was where the Winged Avenger was crippled a few days ago. This sector of sea is imperative to hold and we have requested addition Imperial forces to increase attacks on pirates in this sector. The Imperium of Adaptus Astrates already operates large anti-piracy raids to her coastal North and will probably increase patrols in the North to better combat this pirate menace. We have also queried with the Golden Throne of The Macabees as to the success of their efforts in the North and whether more cooperation would eliminate the threat around our islands and the Northern reaches of Theohuanacu.

In summary the battle against the Dienstad Cartel’s assets in our region of seas is not going quite as well as those off the coast of Holy Panooly. While Stevidian territorial waters are completely free of active Dienstad piracy at this time, the seas around the Southern Guffingfordii islands and former Moleland are rife with activity. Royal Navy losses are mounting and the pirates are moving in heavier shipping to better combat ours. Victory is assured but we must make every effort to lower our own casualty rates before making larger pushes on their strongholds.

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