NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: My MT persona in an alternate history German Empire and the DAB is a collection of highly autonomous but theoretically German-ruled states in our world's Ghana, Togo, Benin, Nigeria, Cameroon, Equatorial Guinea, Gabon, Central Africa, Chad, both Congos, Angola, Namibia, Tanzania, Rwanda, Urundu, Tanzania, and Mozambique (internal boundaries are a bit differant), much like a longer-lived version of the real French Union. Anyone are free to support Germany or help the independance movements or just do whatever: nothing is scripted.

IC:It was a humid day in Nigeria's capital of Lagos: the saturated air clung to clothing and seemed to pull down on exhausted citizens cycling home with hands of muggy moisture. Yet despite the air resembling the Lagos Lagoon in consistency, the rays of the sun still burned brightly through it, cooking every piece of stone and concrete in the city.

Hidden in merciful shadow, two policemen chatted in pidgin German, adding to the babble of German, English, and Yoruba hanging over the city. They were armed only with the pistols worn throughout the German African Union: Nigeria was far from the guerilla fighting in Ubangi-Schari and the Kongo. A safe place, like all of West Africa. What happened in the dark and distant depths of the zentrum was no business of Nigerians: so everyone in Berlin, at least, knew.

Hearing the multilingual babble sliced neatly away by a sharp siren, the policemen suddenly weren't so sure.


"What the hell is happening out there?"

Oberst-Leutnant Johan Akinola had a habit of muttering to himself when he was frightened and confused. He was both now, as, bincoluras so tight to his eyes that it was starting to hurt, he looked towards the muzzle flashes in the Lagos city center. There was fighting up there, and he needed to know what was going on. Telephone lines had been cut, radio had been jammed. All he'd recieved before that were a few confused distress calls. What could be happening?

Johan was a soldier, having served in the Kongo, and he knew the whistle of a mortar when he heard it he dived instantly, hittig the tarmac of his barracks drill area at a roll. But his troops... they were completely green. It took the to long to hear, to long to think, and to long to act. They were lucky it was smoke rounds.

"Attention Nigerian soldiers! Nigeria is now independant under the rule of a free government! This is your only opportunity to join the national revolution! If you will not surrender! You are completely surrounded!"

Oh good lord...

"What do we do, sir?"

Thinkfastthinkfastthinkfast...

"Alright! We surrender!"

Johan turned to his 2iC, Ernst Azikwe, and whispered "This is probably just a mad-cap scheme. There's no point wasting our lives over it."

"Right, sir."

"You're going to come out without any weapons, hands in the air!"

"Somebody's thrilled with his loudspeaker."



Although a surprise for everyone, not least most German-Africans, the coup-de-etat in Nigeria makes perfect sense when viewed in terms of long term trends in the country. Nigeria has never felt German in the same way Namibia and Tanzania do. Germany has never done anything much for it and the German minority is essentially non-existant. There was some quite substantial Marxist seperatist activity in the aftermath of the War, but it has been largely forgotten because it was crushed decisively and never became a protracted struggle as in Central Africa. The emergence of a strong non-communism nationalist faction which signed the Deutsches Afrika Bund agreement prevented communism ever making substantial gains.

Since the collapse of the USSR, communist paramilitaries have been losing men rapidly to the nationalists, which has both strengthened and radicalised a group already beginning to believe that the DAB has served its purpose and full independance was a logical next step. Combine this was the fact that the northern Muslims have become much lesser pro-German since the War, and discontent is fully understandable.

Clearly, however, it has been simmering for a long time, and this takeover was carefully planned. The north and south-west are in rebel hands, including Lagos. It is widely suspected that Niger, to the north, is offering aideo to the insurrection and westerly Togo-Dahomey is split between pro-Nigerian and pro-German factions and unable to respond to the situation. Easterly Kamerun has a safe pro-German majority but its army is almost entirely deployed in Ubangi-Schari, where violence is flaring up again.

In light of this surprise, the vast territory of the DAB seams close to breaking point.

OOC: My country is based off the middle east and controls much of it, on the east side up to Iran and on the west side up to Eygpt. Would you have any problem in saying your empire is near mine? I'm thinking of sending supplies through Chad into the rebel countries.

OOC: No probs. "Kaiserreichverse" history and geography outside Germany and its closest assosciates is flexible.

IC:

Thick jungle, Sunkuru Province, German Kongo

It was the middle of the night: it would have been the best time for a battle in the boiling-to-warm climate of central Africa, if not for the darkness. Everybody was inching slowly forward, mindful of ever step. Who knew what was lurking in the night? Even plants could be deadly: a loud snap and everyone was dead.

“There's the sentry.”

“I see him. No firing yet.”

The rebels spoke French, still widely used in the heart of the continent, away from the original German colonies or the strongest German influence. They would have spoken a native language, to be certain they weren't understood by troops from loyalist colonies, but this battalion hailed from all over the Kongo: French was the only language they all shared, that all of his officers could whisper through their comlinks.

"All units in position?"

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

"Then let's..."

The battalion commander lifted his hand, and the men surrounding min each gave a tiny nod.

"GO!"

A single crack rang out in the dark... then another... then the buzz of automatic fire, explosives in the darkness, firing and screaming...


Chancellor Friedrich Glogauer straightened the report in front of him. One damn crisis after another...

"Chancellor. The ripples from Nigeria are already being felt in the Gold Coast, Gabon, and Angola. Our forces are far to stretched. I cannot stress how much I recomend deploying German troops to Africa."

"You know why I won't, General von Hoyerswerda. You know people are tired of far-off wars. You know Africans prefer to see a familiar face with a familiar language holding their guns. I have always said that sending our men would only make things worse."

Friedrich lay back and sighed. He very seldom did that, and it was always a bad sign.

"I'm starting to think you're right. There's no easy solution except withdrawing. We have to fight. But what is the military situation?"

"The rebels have come out of their hide-outs all over Central Africa and Angola. There are more than we suspected: they've clearly been biding their time. We don't have a second to waste: I recommend deploying German troops to take back Nigeria. Cut out the tumour, as it were."

"Very well, General. Ask the Kaiser for authorisation and off you go."

von Hoyerswerda saluted and walked out, and Glogauer turned to stare through his window at the familiar Berlin skyline. It helped him to think, because it wasn't putting pressure on him.

What a mad, mad world...

This was a tough choice. This German Empire was experiencing some troubles with rebels. The Zackaroth Empire had never dealt with them. While Zackaroth played no role in Africans politics, the nation that once was called Egypt was apart of Zackaroth. The High Leader remembered once being urged to confront the Germans but it was dismissed and easily forgotten.

Now Aimless had to make a choice. Support a rebellion that he knew little about, against a country that has done no wrong to them and in fact nothing noticeable wrong to the people rebelling. Or help out an Empire that is getting dangerously close to the home state and may challenge Zackaroth one day for resources. It would be a restless night for the High leader....

(OOC: My nation is based around South Africa, well, generally African Continent, mind if, like the last guy, we share a land border or two? If not, this post still works.)

Prime Minister Kagiso stared over the rich Orange and blue haze hung over Katlego, it had been nearly a decade since he had stood here, ducking from gunfire, only an Aide all those years ago, he understood the need then for the Prime Ministers quite immoral stance on renegades, Neo-Imperialists, and rich white men who had been left behind after the coup. He remembered the Media smeer campaign against the Prime Ministers leadership, the claims that White leaders could have done so much better through events which would have broken down most normal men, Kagiso admired this strength, he nodded at the portrait, acknowledging that he would not be here, in this office, on two accounts, if it was not for Prime Minister Sizwe.
IndentKagiso sat, hidden behind a finely polished oak table, donated from some country which would have sooner seen them fly their flag a hundred years ago, than see them behind their finely crafted desks now, a single folder lay on the Desk, the Aide had indicated it had issues of Pan African Nationalism, Kagiso disliked his Aide, he had tried to encourage him into a more political world, like he had done, but the Aide seemed more happy in a position where he did not try to accomplish in life, Kagiso sighed, not everyone could be Prime Minister. He toyed with folder, pushing it over the green leather writing desk, before tugging on the elastic string.
IndentThe folder was lifted open, it's thickness was misleading, it contained so many photos, documents and contact numbers that Kagiso was nearly overwhelmed, it was almost as if God understood his pain, not a second after the floder had been opened, a knock came at the door, Kagiso shouted "Open!" The cheap wooden doors parted, General Dakarai walked in, his usual dramatic entrance, he had adopted much of the mannerisms of the Imperialists, walking with his arms stretched to the side, impressing upon people his stature, so many years with Dakarai had led Kagiso to question whether he actually sustained injury in the Civil War, or whether the scar down the left side of his head was purely cosmetic.
IndentDakarai saluted before the desk, Kagiso waved him to ease, "Prime Minister, we must discuss this situation in Nigeria." He looked onto the desk, almost with glee that the Prime Minister had already opened the folder, "Since the end of the fighting, I'm sure you are aware, members of both Parties have called for us to increase our stature in Pan African Nationalism." Kagiso was well aware, he had been the man behind many of the rallies in support of such actions, spoken with so many dignitaries his arm still ached from the handshakes, lived in so many Native Huts that he was sure medical professors could study his Immune system, "I believe you met with members of the DAB last Christmas."
Indent"Yes they served Turkey." Kagiso joked.
IndentDakarai smiled lightly, "Sir, we are unsure that the DAB have the interests of Pan-Africanism at heart, infact, we've suspected the DAB of funding pro-white Imperial movements for some time, but we've never had the opportunity to handle the situation." Kagiso awoke when Dakarai mentioned the DAB's actions in funding elements of Aksoem's Pro-White minority, he knew the Head of Foreign Intelligence quite well, their wives held some sort of book club together, and this was the first he had heard that the DAB were involved in any of these plots, "Needless to mention the Political message we could send by removing an Imperial Power from Africa." Kagiso conceeded to this point, it certainly would send a message.
IndentHe thumbed through the wad of papers until he had found the proposed inventory for supplying this mob, "M16A2's, we got the last shipment in last month, I'd rather we gave them the Kalashnikovs we have left over from the Civil War." He muttered, "Do we need to send twenty Military advisors?" He asked, more to himself, "Make that ten, good, we have the proper papaers to pass them off as members of the DAB." He passed over the sheet, "General Dakarai, incase we are discovered and unless diplomacy fails with the DAB completely, no Aksoemite Military personell are to fire upon DAB Personell, understood?" The General nodded, "Good, have the order filled and sent to Nigeria, this meeting never took place." He commanded, the General strided out of the office, knowing as soon as the doors closed, the paper in his hand was the only evidence of their encounter.

(OOC: to the Rebels have a Port? or an Airfield, or wherever, how do I get supplies and people in basically?)

OOC: Land borders are fine. The rebels control most of the Nigerian coast, but it's going to be well-watched. If you're in southern Africa, you could just cross supplies to Angola. It'd be good if we get some action going on soon, so I'm starting up some character-plotline.

IC: Trieste, Grand Duchy of Slovenia, German Empire

The room was airy, with good circulation and french windows to admit the brilliant Adriatic sunshine. There was a jug of water with ice that went clink in a pleasent-sounding way, and and a plate of salmon-on-cream-cheese-on-rye, tasty and crunchless. Over all, the impression it gave was very... inapropriate.

"If you are forced to conclude that your target is not in central Africa, the most likely alternative is a foreign refuge. Don't jump to conclusions on that, though. We've tried to watch the lakes and roads very thoroughly, and I''m sure you already know that central Africa is quite ridiculously big.

"There are also plenty more leads to follow that the ones I've mentioned: those are the top five. The rest are in your file. Have a good look at that."

"So who else is on this job?"

"Well, Rosenkrant and Gildenstern, naturally, and one other team. You all have completely seperate target lists, they don't overlap until about twentieth place. Believe me, you aren't going to get to number twenty. If nothing else happens, you'll get malaria or something and die. I have this personal theory that when God was creating all living things, he threw everything adsurdly dangerous into the Kongo in an enormous jungle, hoping we wern't stupid enough to have a look."

"I'm sure target one is on that list."

"Definately. Be careful out there, Gustav."

Hauptmann Gustav Adolf Krombacher started to flick through his file.

"Minimal team?"

"Absolutely. I'd recomend ten for tops."

"From any company?"

"Hey, Rosenkrantz and Gildenstern will want from the best from their people. Your pick, but be sure it's someone you know will march through a jungle up to their waste in water."

"Well, I want Rüdi. He'll know the lingo."

Oberst-Leutnant Johan von Sigmerstein chuckled.

"The man's white as snow. Speaking Swahili or whatever a disguise does not make, Gustav."

"No, but the opposition seem to think a code it makes."

"Point."

"Micheal has been in a jungle before... the rest I'd have to mull over."

"Take two days. Mr. Target One never sleeps in the same bed for three days. You'll spend a while on the trip, so it's no loss."

"I think I can decide quicker. Get everyone in a room and things just click."

"Lord, Gustav, always rushing!"

Gustav said nothing, but grinned at his CO, took his file, and turned to leave the room.

(OOC: I'll paradrop from the Coast of Nigeria, iffen that's fine with ye.)

Off the Coast of the Nigeria

The last twenty minutes had been a hectic rush around the deck, making sure everything was strapped on, and that every Crate was full, this was the final briefing for the ten men who would be crossing over, their citizenship to Aksoem revoked as of 7PM that night, now they were renegades, working for the Nigerian rebels, their Major had just walked on deck, and the soldiers were still held in salute, "At ease." The soldiers relaxed, "As you've been informed, you will be conducting a top secret operation to train Nigerian Rebels in DAB held territory." The Captains seemed anxious at this news, not realising they would drop into DAB held territory.
Indent"You have not been informed that you will drop into DAB territory, we cannot be sure which areas are directly held by Nigerians, so your first goal will be to seek out the rebels, do not reveal your homeland, we cannot risk a war with the DAB just yet." The planes behind the Major were activating, and a call had come out for the Captains to begin loading, "The Cargo will arrive after you, it will be dropped in a position marked on your map that we believe to be held by Nigerians, if they have difficulty in finding this equipment you are to take them to it, understood?" There was a nod, "Go." He ordered, the Captains rushed out to the Plane, loading themselves onto it.

++++ ++++ ++++

25 Minutes Later,
Over the Nigerian Mainland

Captain Emeka looked over the unreal clouds below him, he had been on jumps before, never at night, and seeing the moon tinge was a great experience for him, he had seen land in breaks through the cloud for some time now, and knew the light would soon turn green, he hitched up his parachute again, making sure he knew which cords to pull, they glowed in the night, so he could easily see them, the red haze around him suddenly turned green, and instinctively he rolled out of the plane, plummeting to the ground, fifteen seconds, he had to pull the cord, he plunged through the cloud, and suddenly saw the whole horizon in front of him, for a moment he lost count, but regained it after adjusting for his error, he pulled the cord and slowly now drifted towards the ground.
IndentSoftly landing on the surface, he immediatly detatched his parachute, switched on his radio and made his way towards a hidden brush, "CO-1, Have made landing, request co-ordinates for meet-up." He buzzed over the radio, "CO-2 Landed, we are setting up radio on Northern Ridge, make way to our position." Emeka switched off his radio, pulled his AK-47 closer and began to hike towards the target, he heard some rustling in the bushes, raising his weapon and calling out, "Katlego." He paused, until he heard the response, "Success." He put aside his gun, spotting CO-5 coming from the bushes.
IndentThe team had now made it to the rendevouz, ten of them rested around the HAM radio, its operator scanning the frequencies for anything which resembled a Nigerian broadcast, they knew they'd need to find a city if they couldn't find the Nigerians over radio, then they would face the difficult task of getting in without being captured.

Surface Action Group Whiskey
Eighty-two nautical miles west of Lagos, Nigeria

The three ships of SAG Whiskey (CTS Repulse (CG-39), CTS Ben Townes (DDGN-11), and CTS Robert Fairman (DDG-111)), cruised at a leisurely twelve knots of the West African coast. The Commonwealth had little interest in Africa, and most of that was on the Eastern side of continent. However, mass uprisings tended to draw attention. The Commonwealth had no real interest in who contrlled the God forsaken wastes known as Central Africa but such wars tended to cause instability and instability was bad for business. The Tolvanic Navy had spent years trying to stamp out the piracy that had emerged after East Africa fell into war after war and they had no desire to have to do so again. This time they'd nip any such foolishness in the bud.

OOC: Tolvan would only get involved if pirates or what not start to harrass shipping in the area. Otherwise it has little interest in the war.

OOC: An insertion is fine, Akroem. Also, if there's any confusion, the DAB isn't an independant country, it's a confederation of highly autonomous German colonies (although that's likely to change in the aftermath of this war), and has very little functions as a body, most stuff being down to the individual members.

IC: Borno Province, Northern Nigeria

"I can see them coming... probably a whole battalion."

"Keep your head down! Final protective fire's coming!"

Obersoldat Yasini Machogu obeyed, dropping down to where his squadmates lay, a small hollow in the slightly hilly country of the north-west. And not a moment too soon: a hundred meters away or less, the mortar's of Feldbattailon 42 began to drop the last few bombs before the enemy was at close assualt range.

Unteroffizier Ernst Ubugwo, carrying the group's SAW, edged his way to the hollow's lip, laid his weapon down and, as his comrades joined him, waited.

The first rebel came out of the smoke and shrapnel on his belly, making the fastest crawl he could forward. Don't think about it, just...

Dakkadakkadakka... one less of them.

They picked off two, and the third stopped where he was.

"Supressive! Get down!"

Machine-gun bullets from an enemy SAW started to fly overhear, a little too high for now, but getting lower and lower until it bit at the lip, sending clods of earth into the air. Over to the left, a stray hand-grenade went off.

Yasini flicked to full automatic on his assualt rifle. He very seldom did that, but as the enemy were about to come over the lip, sund in their eyes...

Bangbangbang

...He could hardly miss.

"Any more?"

"How should I know?"

"Damn!"

"Why's FPF stopped?"

"Shut up! Listening!"

Ernst's radio was telling him something.

"We're falling back. Mortars are getting ready to fire just behind us. There's some HMGs for cover just nearby, but for now... Yasini, you see us off."

"Sir."

Belly-crwaling to the lip, Yasini but his gun over and opened fire, risking only a peak of a look. Behind him, he could hear his comrades scrambling away. He hated these moments, the feeling of being alone. Away to either side, there was gunfire and explosions. Here? Quiet...

"Shit!"

A whole squad of rebels were advancing, guns in one hand as they scrambled over the ground. He gave them a burst, and felt bullets passing uncomfortably close over his head... both ways. The rest were clear, then. He slinked back down, said a prayer, and ran, body low to the ground.


Office of the CO, Kamerun

"Our forces, it seems, are the nearest credible fighting units. FB 42, one of the last loyal battalions in Nigeria, has today begun withdrawal into to the extreme north of our own colony. And it gets worse. All of the area around Equatorial Guinea is vulnerable to raids, as it appears that country is being lax in controllong the entrance of DAB guerillas into its borders. Also, all the 1914 border strip is being walked over by Kongolese fighters, and the newest reports indicate another rising is taking place in the Gold Coast. Togo-Dahomey has held on so far, but thsi threatens it with encirclement."

"What's this I've been hearing about ships off the coast?"

"Not apparently hostile, but worth a mention."

"And our own frontier?"

"Nothing yet, but once Nigeria is firmly in their hands and they've left Togo-Dahomey to the Gold Coast rebels, they'll probably try for the North-West and South-West provinces. Intelligence indicates that presently, they're fearful of attacking us because if they lose and we counter-attack, they lose everything."

"Just as well. We can't possibly withstand an attack now, with half our forces in the Kongo. When will we have re-enforcements?"

"Some forced are already on their way from Germany. Chancellor Glogauer has broken his golden rule."

"Good."

300 Kilometres off Tanzanian Coast

The western Indian Ocean was the furthest extent of the United Kingdom's routine patrols. Certainly task forces often went into the Atlantic. But with several island territories scattered throughout the Indian Ocean the Admiralty deemed patrols of the Indian Ocean of far greater value. Thus, the presence of a small formation of frigates in the western expanses was wholly routine. Their assignment, however, was not.

"Can the Krauts not keep a lid on their colonies?"

Commodore Andrew Neil shot a quick glance down the table to the commanding officer of the HMS Golden, one of the G-class destroyers assigned to his patrol group. "This is neither the time nor the place, Henry," he added once the briefing room had been silenced. "Listen, gentlemen, the fact of the matter is that an unknown force or coalition of forces is destabilising German colonial possessions in Western Africa, primarily Nigeria and the Congo. The Admiralty has ordered us to maintain a close patrol off the eastern African coast, specifically off the Tanzanian and Mozambican coasts, in order to prevent possible instability in the western Indian Ocean."

"As it was off the coast of New Albion, sir?" Captain Donald Cook had commanded a small destroyer during the cold war with the Khailfah and had intercepted several pirates attempting to smuggle arms into the al Muslimeen territory—presumably for use against Oceanian soldiers and civilians. That the whole region was unsettled and without any effective governing authority contributed to the rise in piracy and lawlessness. Indeed, the situation had only recently begun to cool down after the treaties demarcating the border between the two states, and thereby the limit of their respective power.

Neil nodded, "More or less, Donald." Picking up a small, handheld device, he moved his hand through the air to highlight a region on the map, displayed via a computer screen mounted against the bulkhead. "The situation is currently stable throughout the eastern portions of the German holdings. Both RIS and ORNI concur that this is likely to hold for the immediate future owing to the larger pro-German populations living in the eastern colonies. However, the fear is that should these rebel forces be victorious in the west, they may well attempt to foster a pan-African revolt throughout the German colonial empire in Africa. If this happens, we are looking at instability along our maritime border. And that is a threat to Oceanian merchant shipping, and thus our national security."

For a further fifteen minutes, Neil continued his briefing, outlining the details of launching drone reconnaissance flights from the destroyers that would linger far closer to the German maritime border than the warships themselves. The Admiralty saw no need to pressure the Germans—and Neil agreed. Furthermore, being further from the border reduced the likelihood of some overzealous German naval commander opening fire upon his patrol group.

305 Kilometers off Tanzanian Coast

The Type 46 destroyer (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=13684904&postcount=157) CTS Robert Fitch (DDGN-25) was entering the 36th day of its deployment to Golf Station, the Tolvanic Navy's deisignation for the patrol patterns off East Africa. African deployments were mainly tasked with counterpiracy operations and as a result there were seldom anything so large as a carrier deployed. At the moment Golf Station was occupied by one cruiser, five destroyers, and three frigates, plus the support ships that rotated in from the Commonwealth itself. Of course these numbers did not include the three ships of SAG Whiskey.

Captain Samuel North stood on the port bridge wing and watched the reasonably calm seas. This far from shore there was none of flotsam one found closer to land. After a few minutes his thoughts were broken by a shout from one of the port lookouts.

"Skipper, I have the Oceanian ships off the port bow."

"Very well."

North had known there were Oceanian ships in the area and had seen no need to change course, these waters were crowded and ships of all manner of nationalities crossed paths quite frequently.

Upon entering the bridge North located the OOD, Lt. Hanaka, and approached him.

"Let's render honours Jeffery, no reason we can't be civil even if we are stuck in the asshole of the world."

"Aye sir." With that Hanaka ordered signalmen to dip the ships colours as she passed the Oceanian force.

OOC: I'm rather pushing along the story here, people, so let's speed up! Do stuff! I don't mind if you kill people unilaterally at small levels (like anything smaller than a battalion, and sometimes even bigger) as long as we play fair and the story keeps moving.

IC: Headquarters, German East Africa Command

"No violations of our waters, but given the circumstances I thought I should inform you, sir."

"Yes, yes, commendable. Thank you, colonel."

The Intelligence Officer, Zanzibar Station saluted smartly and walked out, leaving General Ernst von Gesmold alone with his thoughts and his files. The Sultanate of Zanzibar was a German protectorate and not a member of the DAB, and its garrison were largely Germans. Owing to this exceptional status, it had so far escaped call-ups for fighting on the mainland.

Very soon, through that was likely to change, and preparations for a transfer to the mainland were at fever pitch. The Sultan himself was becoming concerned.

There was a knock at the door. So much to do...

"Come in."

Ernst spoke in Arabic, the language of business for Zanzibar, for two reasons. One was that the Sultan and Arab elite spoke it. The other was that more Germans spoke it than spoke Swahili. But the man who entered was unmistakably German.

"Ah. Gustav. And friends, I see."

"Count yourself lucky the whole company isn't here, sir."

Krombacher took the seat opposite von Gesmold, and his team pulled up chairs of their own. Some people might have asked, but... Krombacher didn't ask. That was the simplest way of putting it.

"So, you're here to ask about insertion."

Krombacher gave a nod. An approving nod. He wasn't fond of the kind of officer who would have asked "So you're on a mission to so and so, then?"

"Well, I have a few options lined up, and we're picking one based on the most recent intelligence concerning the man you Jaeger types have to call Target One."

Krombacher gave a little grin under his mustache. He was starting to like von Gesmold. Making fun of rules by obeying them was one of his favourite ways to waste time.

"The nearest base we have to his current suspected locale is probably being watched, so my recommendation would be to fly to Katanga, get off, drive there with any normal convoy, and get going. Your thoughts."

"Fine. Guides?"

"Waiting for you. Everything's taken care of. Good luck."

"Thank you, sir."

The team left the room, most without having spoken a word.

Three Hundred Kilometres off Tanzanian Coast

"That them, Lieutenant?"

"Indeed, Commander," a young, red-haired lieutenant replied, still peering through the binoculars steadied by his hands. "And they appear to be dipping their colours, sir…" He handed his binoculars to the ship's executive officer, the officer on duty while the ship's commanding officer met with Neil and the other ship COs.

Graham Davis found the Robert Fitch and confirmed for himself the lieutenant's report. He handed the binoculars back to the young officer and then returned to the bridge, issuing orders all the while.

As the Tolvanic destroyer passed, the Oceanian frigate—although at twenty thousand tonnes displacement more akin to a destroyer—dipped her colours. Soon after, following the flagship's lead, the remaining Oceanian ships performed likewise.

302 Kilometers off Tanzanian Coast

North had already identified the Oceanian ships as the "G" class patrol frigate (more like a destroyer in reality) using the bridge's copy of "Johnson's Fighting Ships of the World". To many observers the Tolvanic Navy would proably be considered a "frigate navy" as most of its ships were in the 5,000-10,000 ton range, albeit very well armed for their sizes. However, the Tolvanic Navy had three primary missions, to protect merchant shipping, show the flag, and keep unwelcome intruders out of Tolvanic waters. The Navy's current crop of ships was more than sufficent for those tasks.

North walked over the radio set suspended near his chair and picked up the mic.

"Oceanian Frigate, this is Fitch Actual, care for a friendly lunch?"

With that message several eyebrows were raised around the bridge, but the skippers on Golf Station were under orders to foster improved ties with others in the region. It might make their job a bit easier to have friends.

(OOC: I talked with NB, I'm starting again, cos I totally messed up my entry into this conflict.)

Aksoem Disputed Territory, Formerly Tafadzwa

It wasn't often that Tafadzwa saw such a large concentration of soldiers, infact, since the Civil War in 1993, the country had been slowly returning to autonomy, though trapped between the overall leadership of Aksoem, and its own interim goverment, this had made it easier for the Aksoemite Army to deploy itself amongst the northern garrisons, around the city of Mhlume, and scattered through the dense forests, any observer would have commented on the relation between this sudden deployment and the political maelstrom of the DAB countries.
IndentAny of the predicitions that the Tafadzwa citizen made would have been true, but the exact details of the plan would be less clear, There were three groups, elements of the Airborne Division, the attack would not completely be swift, a prodminance had been placed on getting the operation done properly, whatever collateral damage that had to be incurred would come in the aftermath, in preventing the DAB for over-running Aksoem, and forcing them from thier imperial position.

Operation Katlego, Jelani 1, enroute to Maputo

The Mil Mi 24's left over from the Civil War, shot gracefully through the azure skies, the F-16 Falcons having peeled off a few miles ago, on hunter seeker operations, keeping any German or counter independent Fighters tied up, it left behind a small but capable escort, who would peel off and return home once the convoy had reached its position, the team had three targets, securing the administrative area, making sure that none of the native goverment members are harmed, the second would focus on locking down the city, making sure the garrison would be ready in case the German garrison reached the city before Aksoem reinforcements arrived, and the third team, would secure the Airport, ensuring that air support could operate out of the area.
IndentThere were three of these groups, and though operational strength and target varied, they were all focused on removing the German imperialist control of Mozambique, the second group was due soon at its location, Matola, capitol of the region surrounding the first groups target, the third was going North, further from the rest of the groups, to the capitol Xai-Xai of the province Gaza, together, these three groups would have at least administrative control of the provinces bordering Aksoem, but until reinforcements arrived, they and all of Eastern Aksoem would be at risk.

Fungai, East Aksoem

There were two Regiments located just outside the city, ready for deployment inside Mozambique, they were there on a strictly insurance basis, should the liberation of Mozambique go terribly wrong, they would be there to supress any resistence, take out any German bases in the area, make sure the invasion doesn't bring too much hardship on the native population, this was going to be the only chance that Aksoem would get to take down the DAB, success was on the line.

Three Hundred Kilometres off Tanzanian Coast

"Lunch, eh?" Captain Percival Clayton looked away from the high-definition screen beaming the video from Neil's command into his own. The new communications suite aboard the Type 22 frigates meant that more traditional briefings held aboard the task force commander's flagship were no longer necessary. Unfortunately, for those commanding the older G-class destroyers the communication upgrades were to wait until the next modernisation.

Davis nodded. "Yes, sir, we politely informed their CO that you were indisposed and would return with your answer momentarily."

Pursing his lips, Clayton remained seated, in fact leaning further back into his seat. After another long and uncomfortable moment for Davis, Clayton finally nodded. "Very well, allow me a moment to brief Neil and I shall meet you in Operations. When you return, send Dan down here and have him sit in on the remainder of the briefing."

"Aye, sir."

After the commanding officers of the various ships listened to Clayton and his reasoning for supporting the lunch, Neil gave his explicit permission and then continued briefing the COs of the various other ships, along with Clayton's second officer. When communications were reestablished with the Tolvanic destroyer, Clayton took the handset for himself.

"Fitch Actual, this is Echo Actual. Your suggestion sounds most sensible, is half-an-hour enough time to prepare?"

As the two officers made the appropriate arrangements, the hangar doors for the Oceanian frigate opened and one of the two Cormorant helicopters was gently pushed out of the crowded hangar. The Type 61s, the G-class destroyers, were responsible for primary aerial reconnaissance thereby allowing Clayton to keep his birds under wraps. Within minutes, the blades began their initial, slow arcs through the thick African air. A few minutes after that, Clayton appeared with a rating at his side. The rating carried a simple, rugged briefcase while Clayton carried a far smaller, dark wooden box with well-polished brass latches. Two Royal Marines boarded the helicopter as well, noticeably absent any weapon more powerful than their sidearms.

The Cormorant rose from the stern, making a slow, gentle arc towards the Robert Fitch. As they neared the Tolvanic vessel, Clayton lost sight of the white ensign and the word Echo stenciled across the stern.

Three Hundred Kilometers off Tanzanian Coast

"Conn, Look-Out Four - We have a helo departing lead Oceanian vessel, I make her inbound to us sir."

"Very well Mr. Martin." North set his binoculars down and turned to face his OOD. "Lt. Hanaka, sound Flight Quarters, have Seargent Davis call away an honor guard, say six men sidearms only. Also, have the XO meet me on the Hanger in five minutes and informt he stewards to set the Wardroom with the Ship's China. You have the Conn Mr. Hanaka."

As Hanaka went to work passing the orders, North headed to the hanger deck, given the insufferable heat he doubted the Oceanians would mind if he didn't don Dress Blues for this meeting.

Three Hundred Kilometres off the Tanzanian Coast

From the rear compartment of the helicopter, Clayton watched the Oceanian pilots navigate their bulky helicopter to the flight deck under the direction and guidance of the Tolvanic crew. As the wheels touched down with a gentle thud, Clayton put on his sunglasses and took his heat and wooden box from the adjacent seat. He nodded towards his accompanying rating and then the Royal Marines, both of whom had been ordered to stay aboard the Cormorant.

The rating unlocked and slid open the door, presenting to the assembled honour guard Clayton, wearing the white tropical ceremonial dress—appropriate, he thought, given the heat. He looked at the rank insignia and found the man whom he suspected to be the Fitch's commanding officer. "Fitch Actual, I presume? Captain Percival Clayton, Royal Navy. Have I permission to come aboard?"

Southern End of the Mozambique Channel

Running in a racetrack pattern, the Sea Sprite DR.1 reconnaissance drone kept a close watch on the air and surface traffic along the southeastern maritime border of German Mozambique. Unlike the northern patrol group, the southern group was operating far closer to the German coastline—the Sea Sprite making loops only sixty kilometres off the Mozambican coast, its active radar picking up Aksoem helicopter gunships and fighter aircraft violating German airspace. The secure datalink with the drone's command ship ensured that almost simultaneously the Aksoem actions were known to theatre commanders.

Aboard the HMS Everest, Commodore Ernest Faulkner quietly received the word from the drone operators that the Aksoem flights had been detected. He touched a few icons on the large table display in Operations and brought the Sea Sprite's radar images to the front window. "Can this be confirmed," he asked his executive officer in a low voice.

"No, sir, not unless we can positively identify them as Aksoem assets—as it is now we can only presume them to be so. But they may well be third party assets. We would need to move the drone closer to Mozambique in order to see their points of origin."

"Do it."

Upon Faulkner's orders, the Sea Sprite began a slow turn to the west until it reached a point just twenty kilometres from the Mozambican coast, its radar now probing Aksoem airspace in addition to German airspace. The Royal Navy would be keeping a close eye on any interference in the German colonies.

Headquarters Mozambique, Beira (Africa), Sofala province, Mozambique, DAB

"What in the name of God..."

"Out of nowhere, sir. Well, Aksoem. Flagrant violation. I don't know what they're thinking..."

"What air assets do we have to respond?"

"Not much. There's a wing stationed in Tete province on call for Katanga. We could have them available in the south, but it'll be time between call and arrival."

"Tell the commander in the southern district they're all his. Tell him to be careful with them. Put in an urgent request for all available aircraft to be re-stationed to airfields in Central."

"Yes, sir."

"Request the Premier of Mozambique to instate Marshal Law. The Premier of Zanzibar is to call up all reservists. I want some kind of defensive line from Lake Nyasa to the sea! And get all combat-ready ships into the lake. Somebody get me a line to OKA!"

"Here, sir."

General von der Goltz, Officer Commanding, Mozambique snatches teh radio eagerly.

"Yes, Mozambique?"

"We're under attack, were you informed?"

"Yes, carry on."

"We need that Nigeria expeditionary force for Namibia, the place is practically defenseless."

"...That would leave Togo completely defenseless, general. The forces in Kamerun would have to fend for themselves."

"I know! This is urgent! We're being invaded here."

"Very well. I'm just getting in touch with Berlin."

Von der Goltz slumped and handed the radio to an ADC.

"Keep me informed."

"Yes, sir."


Near the frontier, Lorenscho-Markes Province, Mozambique

Feldbattailon 14 was in good order and ready for action. Just what action, they had no idea. Their commander, Armando Diogo, one of relatively few African natives to have reached command of a battalion in the colonial Schutztruppe, was in his office with a frantic radio and an equally frantic border policeman, trying to find out what on Earth was going on.

"So an invasion is definately imminent?"

"Underway already."

"Damnation. Do I have permission to withdraw?"

"Any hostile activity?"

"No sightings yet."

"...How near the border are you?"

"A few hours on foot, one hour by any of the international roads we sit on, there's three..."

"Can you mine them?"

The policeman waving frantically now.

"One second, sir... yes?"

"There were troops on the border... sir."

"Hmmm... advancing?"

"No."

"Okay, sir, we have troops opposite us, as it were, but sitting still."

"Right then. If you can mine those roads, detonation on command or tamper, do it. Leave a team to watch each trap. Otherwise just blow them."

"Yessir."

Armando but down the phone.

"Ober-leutnant Grotemeyer? Otto! Fetch me Grotemeyer."

Fritz Grotemeyer, however, had heard his name. Armando would normally have waited a moment to see if this was so, but he was in a hurry.

"Sir?"

"Can we mine the roads?"

"Hmmm. Foe-activated?"

"No, command or tamper."

"Command I can do. We have some detonaters and plenty of volatiles that we can get under the structure... tamper no."

"Doesn't matter. Take whoever and whatever you need, rig all of those roads to blow, do it as near to this base as possible. And make sure there's some way to judge where the trap is. A tree of something. You have a camera?"

"I can get one."

"Take a picture. Off you go."

Fritz saluted smartly and left. The policeman was about to follow.

"Hang on a second... are you reserve eligable?"

"Yes, sir."

"You men?"

"Most of them. A couple Landwehr."

"Okay. As an officer of the Kaiser I'm mobilising you. Welcome to the Imperial Army. Take our spare uniforms, lots of camo, a radio, and form teams to watch the traps once we're gone. If you think you can run for it, try, but no risks. There's no shame in surrendering if you succesfully destroy the roads."

The officer was clearly taken aback, but recovered. This was war.

"Right, sir."

West Aksoem, 1st Engineering Division

The soldiers of the Engineering division had awoken early, having been told that war was on the horizon, their activities today had taken much of their energy, it had been assumed that an invasion of Namibia was not planned, instead the Engineers had been laying mines on the roads going in and out of Aksoem, mixed with a healthy dose of motion and sensor detectors, a counter invasion from the DAB through this nation would not take them by surprise.

Open Sea, Somewhere Off Aksoem Coast

The Aksoem taskforce was comparably small, not expecting any large conflict, deployed in open water to detect any threats from the North East, whilst nothing was yet expected, a small patrol of Sea Kings had been dispatched to patrol for any Mozambique threats, or any other threat that presented itself, war tended to inspire piracy, an eye would need to be kept on that.

Three Hundred Kilometers off Tanzanian Coast

North stepped foward and extended his right hand. "Permission granted Captain Percival, I am Captain Samuel North, Commanding Officer of the CTS Robert Fitch."

CTS Robert Fitch

"A most splendid vessel, Captain North," Clayton responded, stepping gingerly off the Oceanian helicopter and taking North's hand in a firm grip. As the Cormorant's rotors slowly wound to a stop Clayton looked about the assembled crew, including the honour guard, and quickly added, "and a fine crew as well." Clayton then glanced to the west, "certainly more than a match for whatever might well come this way."

As the matter stood, the Office of Royal Navy Intelligence had little information on the capabilities of either the German or Aksoem maritime or maritime interdiction assets—nor did the Royal Intelligence Service. "The Germans might well have enough to keep a lid on piracy—but I suspect little more than what is necessary for the relative quiet of eastern Africa. But, I suspect we can leave the more technical details until after lunch, Captain?"

HMS Everest

"Numbers?"

"Nothing concrete, Commodore."

Faulkner grimaced, the expression clearly visible to those gathered round the display table in Operations, despite his head angling down, his eyes staring at the iconography. "Instruct Eagle to go active and light the bastards up. I want more than these vagaries, ladies and gentlemen." Now, sensing the failure of the younger officers and ratings within earshot to comprehend, Faulkner looked up and addressed more loudly those gathered for his orders. "For all we know, these Aksoem might be rather upset to have us operating so closely near our fellow Western white men. And those Sea Kings might well have a full load of anti-ship missiles. I should rather piss off a few Aksoem pilots and alert them to the fact that we are well aware of their presence than risk taking an anti-ship missile amidships."

Within a minute the HMS Eagle, a sister Type 22 to the Everest along with the Eviternal and Echo, switched on her powerful transmitters for both her long-range search radar and her multi-function tracking radar. The Aksoem Sea Kings were promptly identified and if equipped with appropriate receivers duly alerted to the fact that they were being tracked by a potentially hostile surface force.

CTS Robert Fitch

"The locals certainly endeavour to avoid Tolvanic ships since we shot up quite a few pirate skiffs last year. If you'll follow me Captain the stewards should be laying out lunch by now."

With that North and his XO, Lt. Commander Bradley Thames, turned to lead the Oceanians to the Wardroom.

CTS Robert Fitch

Clayton and the rating walked with North and his executive officer to the wardroom. "I shall certainly say it is the mark of the developed countries that piracy in the Pacific is now relegated to the backwaters and seas of third-world countries. That, of course, means that more of us shall find ourselves here in this bloody mess of the world. Although, generally speaking, we have had few problems with pirates in these parts—but I dread the collapse of German authority here for the reversal that such an event may well cause."

CTS Robert Fitch

"I quite agree Captain, we long ago eradicated piracy in our home waters, but I fear much still needs to be done to ensure safe passage in other parts. Which is of course why my Government has a dozen warships deployed to this region."

Upon arrival at the Wardroom North undogged the door and led the Oceanians to the table, now set with the immacculate Ship's China reserved for the most formal of occasions.

"I hope you enjoy potato soup and roast beef Captain, I'm afraid Naval cuisine is not known for its culinary sophistication."

Sea King Patrol 1

A ringing slowly began in the Sea Kings, "We're being tracked!" The Pilot exclaimed, picking up the radio, "Flagship Katlego, this is Wing Leader, we are being tracked from unknown source." The crew had began looking out over the horizon, incase the Radar was broken.
IndentThere was a small wait, before the Katlego responded, "Wing Leader, do we have a number and location?"
Indent"Negative." The pilot had the radio in his hand again, "Could be Mozambique, could be someone else, by now they probably know who we are, requesting further instructions."
IndentThe chopper hung motionless for a moment, "Do not engage Wing Leader." There was another pause, "Fire chaff and return to fleet position."

CTS Robert Fitch

Clayton smiled graciously towards North and Thames, then bowed politely. "Sirs, I assure you subsistence is far more important than sophistication. Potato soup and roast beef shall more than certainly suffice. Indeed, I thank you for your hospitality and your offer to join you for lunch." As the men sat around the table, Clayton placed his wooden box as near the middle as possible so as to be within reach of the Tolvanic officers.

"And gentlemen, to you I present a small selection of the finer teas from aboard my ship." He unlatched the two locks and revealed a blue, velvet-lined interior containing six small glass jars with loose leaf tea. "We Oceanians pride ourselves for our tea, and this is the finest aboard my ship: various types and blends of black tea—whilst some may say them best drank with cream and sugar, I prefer them black. But," he added with a smile, remembering his first sips of the stronger Sarnian blends, "that preference may take some time to acquire."

HMS Everest

The small symbols for the Aksoem Sea Kings made an abrupt change of course, returning to safer airspace. Truthfully, Faulkner did not blame them—he would have likely done the same if his forces were supporting an offensive invasion of a sovereign state. What now worried Everest, however, was the possibility of a surface group from Aksoem moving northeast to investigate just what had probed the Sea Kings.

"I want surveillance of southern approaches," he called out to his executive officer. Within moments of his command, Sea Sprite drones were aloft and headed southwards to cover any movement by Aksoem naval units.

Canberra Naval Patrol, Heading Northeast, Outside Madagascar Channel

Accquisition of the PR9's had been difficult, most of the aircraft having been set aside for further recon up North, not expecting to be needed out at sea, but the reaponse of the Sea Kings being tracked required the surveilence of this fleet, questions needed to be answered, was the fleet hostile? If so, how large was it? The Canberra's were arriving soon on the approximate position of the unknown fleet, if they were able to determine a third party, they might be able to negotiate a deal to remove the fleet, otherwise, it could be a thorn in the plans to break apart the DAB.

CTS Robert Fitch

"I thank you for your gesture Captain, tea is also quite popular in Tolvan as well, though it may be a different brew then you're used to and we do prefer it iced."

With that the stewards began bringing out trays laden with bowls of piping hot soup and piles of roast beef sandwiches accompanied by saucers of lettuce and cheese, and small bowls of mayonaisse for those were inclinned for such dressings.

North gestured to the other men at the table. "Allow me to introduce some of my other officers, my engineer Lt. Commander Ben Mitchell, and my Tactical Action Officer Lt. Dexter Keegan." The two officers stood and offered their hands to Clayton.

OOC: Tolvan and Azazia, you're retecting violations of my waters if I''m not mistaken, so contact me, maybe?

IC: Lorenscho-Markes/Maputo

Dietrich Eberstark gritted his teeth. The city was in panic. The running, screaming crowds, overwhelmed police, mobs, and looting were all too familiar to a man who had been a Catholic missionary in the Kongo in some especially bad years.

He clutched his gun. Obsolete it might be, but it was an Imperial Army service rifle, much more of a weapon that the hunting guns most European citizens had. And anyway, in this screaming throng, it wasn't caliber on other practical considerations that were important: it was being a confidant man with a colonial service cap and a gun.

Thank God for the cap. He kept in his little cabinet of souvenirs, from his mission, from his time in the army, from his humanitarian work in Hungary, from all walks of his life. Now, it made him recognisable and gave him authority. Authority which, as a reserve private, he didn't actually possess, but any strong will was needed now.

The assembly point for his unit was their local fire station. There were several reserve companies in the city, formed from those who held a metropolitan German citizenship and had thus been conscripted into the army, and they were scrambling to form. They had no idea what they were up against, but they had a duty. Besides, this was the capital. If the government were captured, who knew what would happen.


"Hurry, Prime Minister!"

"Colonel, are you completely sure flying out is safe?"

"We'll get over water, where they're not after us. Fighters will arrive here, too, just not fast enough for intercept. We're already transferring to airfields further south. The situation should be under control, unless we face overwhelming force."

Colonel Christian von Lauenburg slammed the door of the government transport with a strength you might not have expected of a man his age, but he kept in shape. And underestimating the old man in any way was a bad idea. He had won every piece of the fruit-salad he displayed at the official events that were his lot now fighting hard in the Kongo, and in the last years of Indochina, too. He was old.

"What about Namibia?"

"Engines start! Namibia, Prime Minister, is in the same boat. We'll get you hooked up to more senior officers in a second."