NationStates Jolt Archive

The day was a cold, blustery one as Garret Linsares took the podium within the Aquaticus Building, home to the League of Imperial Ocean-faring Nations. He had been called upon to speak before the assembled representatives of the League, and his speech would be broadcast for all the world to hear. Many would have been rather nervous, yet his mind was consumed with other things. This interminable war was wearing thin on his psyche. Yet, the League would go on, as it always had. Shuffling his papers, he began to speak.

"We meet on this day, not in joy, but in sorrow. For what was mean to be the deliverance of justice to wrong has brought forth, upon once beautiful fields, the burning plague of indecency, that is the outright death of innocence. What was sought out to be peace from the Waldenburgers has boasted the unnerving death toll of Grestonians and Leistung citizens alike. The Mediterranican Union has shattered it's extremely, thinly veiled layer of glass that represents their peaceful ways, and moved to the offensive front, surrounding a nation who though nothing of the Union but respect.

In the midst of this, however, those who have had their day of judgment call, must not be forgotten. Hafenstadt is falling, the capital of such loyal men, has taken the turn, and while only just entering true glory, LION, to combat the scourge of pain promulgated evil.

The Barronians are held fast, their cities and nation under siege by the same nations once out to greet them. The Island Empire is being attacked by belligerent, warmongering, bloody thirsty dogs, soldiers who would have once died to protect the Island Empire instead. Men are so willing to die, but at what cost. To kill some one who gave to you, to lie to someone who was nothing but honest to you, to let a someone who would go out of their way to aid you die; things the men of the Mediterranican Union and Hegemony could do without thinking twice.

The nation of Pictlands, in our most dire time of need, has turned upon us, declaring us their foe. They would slaughter our men, destroy all we've worked so hard to do. A once great ally of the League has turned in a fit of what can only be called insanity to declare war on us. It is nations like this, who would strive against our goals, which are the troubles of the League.

I have been given the power, I was elected to a job I must keep. I was chosen to protect you, and protect you I shall. The enemy, they move to attack, they wish to strike us and desecrate our name. Our nation shall live for ever, until Hell breaks upon and the land falls we shall remain in existence and no Sumgaian, Waldenburger, Lyran, TPFian, and Hegemony creature can falter that course. Whilst I remain alive, evil shall not, they shall not hover above us, they shall not linger near us. Upon our enemies heels are saviors are coming. Mediterranica will stricken and struck hard, they shall fall as LION prevails. Nothing can stand in the way of our victory.

Vallingard has seen it's dark days and in no soon time shall they see it again. The pledge of support by Theorshia and the destruction of Bad Amberg Castle, give hope of a righteous and speedy peace whose joyous expression cannot be restrained! The TPFian monsters preach that they can destroy us, I say can they? Waldenburgers condemn the 'sinners' and accused when under their churches are the rotten carcases of the ones they killed in the name of their Lord. The Aschenthrstian government says, so willingly, to place the LION in her cage, but we shall prevail. LION shall not falter, we not fail! The day of judgment for the fiends and the advocates of the devil's work looms, the righteous death for them, they shall be given."

OOC: This is, effectively, an overall thread for the whole combat- Hegemony, MU, TPF/Lyras, and anyone else who wants in on this. Please move all posting from the Perdition thread to here. Responses to the address, combat, anything you need to do should go here.

I lack the time at the moment to write out the movements of the Faxanavian military, but I'll get them up tomorrow. Also, many thanks to Greston for writing this speech at such short notice.

OOC: Still upsettingly confused so if I am wrong at times just hit me over the side of the head and explain. I am also assuming the attacks will be in early morning, the kidnapping midday the day before, ok?

IC:

1:59, Waldenburger Holy Church St. Stephen
Easen, Greston

It had been a quiet Tuesday, the head lines were of nothing more than how some sports athlete in a foreign country was have a scandal with a local Grestonian congressmen. David Penson was on his usual patrol across the city. He was a rugged chapman, a green checkered cap and a battered turquoise vest turned away most of the wealthy citizens he encountered during the day. With a half eaten biscuit in his right hand and the Easen Mercury Journal in his left he found his home for the day on a bench next to the Waldenburger church.

It was coming along beautifully, David had passed it on numerous occasions, this time along his walk the church had a different air, the clergy seemed unnervingly fretful, the workers seemed to sludge on with their work. What was also different of the church was that only a month before it was closed off, now it had at least twenty people in attendence. David was an athiest, he had dropped Christianity when his bank account was dropped, bit enjoyed the music it played, no doubt.

He took a large bite out of the hardened bread, he gave a heavy breath as he swallowed. The biscuit had its intended taste as well as the taste of the person's mouth who had the biscuit before him. He placed the rubbish down and looked at the news paper. The tremendously loud bells of the church started to ring out, signifying the hour. David covered his ears but he closed them in enough time to hear a Waldenburger Cardinal on the side walk tell a, obviously Waldenburger, clergy worker, "Lux Aeterna". The bells slowed down and as they ceased, like clockwork, the glorious building went to hell.

David Penson, his biscuit, Easen Mercury Journal, cap, and bench went to hell as well.

2:07 PM, Presidential Palace
Easen, Greston

President Jerry Striker glared out the wide, six inch thick glass windows in the back of the Crown Office. He a smug smile hung upon his face, he looked on with joy at the huge city he had made prosper with his short time in office. Everything seemed to flow well, it took his mind off the on going conflict of interest with the Hegemony and LION. Jerry placed his hands behind his back, stuck on the thought of how well the deployed brigades would do in battle and how his counterpart, Michael Richardson, was doing in Waldenburg. The thought of Michael Richardson and his attitude, his drunken demeanor, made Jerry's smile lower a slight bit.

The President placed himself in his comfortable, brown, leather chair in front of his desk, taking a moment to scan the piles of paper and work that gathered on it. He moved in to start up with the process of learning about the ongoing international crisis but was halted as the massive mahagony, double doors to his office were thrown open for a frantic Undersecretary of Defense Christopher Thesiger to run in waving a piece of paper.

"Sir the Waldenburger Church St. Stephen has been under attack! The rumor is that the Waldenburgers have crossed LION and are coordinating terrorist attacks upon Easen. A vagabon near the church explosion has proven the theory stating that an alter boy unlatched a gaseous posion upon the crowd."

Jerry's smile was dropped immediately, his hands turned pale and limp in seconds. Under his suit he was sweating extremely fast, his heart started to pound excessively.

All he could muster, with a hoarse, frail voice was, "No."

The Undersecretary took four long strides toward the untidy desk and placed the paper, with a small amount of Times New Roman font text, in front of Striker. Striker reluctantly found himself grasping the bottom edges of the paper.

His eyes rolled over the text. Certain words caught his eyes as he scanned the paper. The document simply reiderated Thesliger, the vagabon, and Striker's theory, that Waldenburg was soon to attack.

Thesliger left the room for Striker to think to himself. As the Undersecretary of Defence had left a message came through his communications section. It faxed out onto his desk, another piece of paper for Striker to read. But it was much different than what he had expected.

"Our homeland is currently under attack by forces flying the Waldenburger flag...."

Striker was extremely ready to lay his head on the stack of papers and fall asleep until the end of the madness. But to do so he would be bailing his fellow man and letting Greston fall. He looked back at the paper and continued to read it.

"...take action against Waldenburg's forces, especially those holding your leaders captive...Waldenburg appears to have double-crossed us, and I only pray that this message reaches you in time to avert the sort of hell that has been brought upon our nation..."

Striker thrust the paper to his desk with hatred. He glared at the paper that brought him such bad news.

"Waldenburg," he spat out the word with hatred, "what great allies!"

2:13, Royal and Imperial Windsor Base
Port Porollo, Greston

A some odd forty air craft pilots found themselves fitting their helmets on to engage in coming Waldenburger air craft. Port Porollo had already survived one volley of bombings from the naval crafts guns, to let the base fall to hell because of air craft was out of the question. The odds were heavily on the Grestonian side, the Waldenburgers they would be combatting were bound to be of the bomber decent with very limmited air to air weaponry.

The squadrons would be capable of wiping out the enemy air craft, with the help of the GMNS Royal George and the GMNS Bellaphron they would be fine. The planes flew over the massive battle cruisers and preceded to let loose rounds of anti aircraft missiles. The battle cruisers let the aircraft wing of the WIS Implaceable have hell for a moment with 1,000 missiles steaming towards them. In the hopes of grounding any reinforcing planes to the enemy ten B-2 Spirit bombers sped out to drop their payloads upon what would soon be at the bottom of the ocean.

The Mediterranican Union would soon learn the true meaning of pain.

2:45 PM, GMNS St. Claire
NE Neuvan Sea, Mediterranica

The GMNS St. Claire, whose name sake was surely resting comfortably in the capital of the GLE in the east of Mediterranica, floated gently and meaninglessly on the border of the Aliquantian and Neuvan Sea, twenty miles away from the nearest Grestonian island. The ships in the area couldn't be called a fleet, there was on the St. Claire, but by law there had to be a fleet in the area, so as to cut the costs it was titled a fleet. No one thought there would be an attack coming from the Neuvan Sea so the ship felt it had nothing to fear. The Commodore of the ship, Arthur Pourtsmin, was one of the few who felt odd about the on going trouble within the region.

He had stood there, relentlessly, awaiting a threat that would never come for the past week. He was half expecting to recieve a message from the GIN Commanding Centre in Rosford or Aortha to call them back to port or to some foriegn war, or to attack an MU member before expecting to get attacked by them.

But then it came, satelite image siting had proven the Grestonian Government's theory that the MU was soon to attack. Commodore Arthur Pourtsmin's Port Officer Tyler Westin had given Arthur the message, at the time he had laughed at the possibility. But Arthur was faced with the ultimate question.

Stay and fight or retreat and prepare.

3:02 PM, Silver Bay Military Base
Slyvmyrston, Greston

"And now it is complete."

Deputy Minister of War Benjermin Harkett clapped his hands together brushing off dust. He climbed down his personal jet's stairs to the ground and greeted a nearby Colonel. It was obvious, the MU had took their side and were soon to attack Greston.

"All of our coasts are covered besides our west. When they come we will need all the help we can get. Survey the land, this place will be over filled with bodies soon."

The short Deputy Minister was scurried into the main diplomatic centre of the base where soldiers of various higher up ranks awaited. Benjermin had a temper as short as his height, while not so tall he knew a thing or two about war.

The Conference room was a standard, large, bleak room with a massive table in the center. The only thing that could be thoughy exciting was that around the table was position over twenty of the best soldiers that had interacted with the Mediterranican Union in the past.

It was almost the staff of the Union Square base all over again. Field Marshal Richard Baugchet, commander of battalions one through five of the 34th Brigade, Field Marshal Jacob Ronnit, placed with Battalions 6-10 of the 34th Brigade, Field Marshal Edward C. Barkin, leading Battalions 11-15 of the 34th Brigade, Field Marshal Johnathon Brookes, 16-20 Battalions from the 34th Brigade, Field Marshal William Carpenter, 21-25 Battalions, were laid out across the table as the commanding ranks of the 34th. Next to Filed Marshal Baghchet was Brigadier General Thomas William Tintall, the highest ranking officer of the 34th. Brigadier General Peter Winston Cannon, Field Marshal Sonaa Al Mukalla, and Field Marshal Richard Kobashle were the representing forces of the 29th Brigade, that brigade boasted up wards to 30,000 units. A delegation of two Brigadier General's, George Anderson and Perry Right, represented the 32nd Brigade, with over 25,000 guns. The men served their brigades well with the brigades only forty away patrolling the site.

"Well, well, it looks like Union Square base wasn't bombed after all. Can we get a move on now, Aschenthrsytian soldiers are moving in," Benjermin said it slightly frantically but when nations that knew some of your biggest secrets were ivading, most people would be frantic.

"How are we doing in Slyvmyrston? I want to find out the base and coasts layout so that I can accurately plan our defence. How many ships are moored in the harbour," he looked up for his answer to be given. The officers simply looked at him, confused.

None of them took the chance to speak up, Brigadier General Perry Right was the first to speak and break the ice, "Sir, our remaining naval division assets have been deployed."

The Deputy Minister gave a look of dismay and anger. He looked at the officer that had spoken, with a fire in his eyes, he said, "Where the bloody hell are we deploying at a time like this! Is this all you could pull out of you ass?! Thousands upon thousands of men are steaming over here, I need at least five ships of the Grestonian Imperial Navy ready to assualt the incoming enemy forces in an hour!"

Benjermin slapped and fist on the table, he knew he was to die one day but not by the hands of fellow Mediterranicans.

"Sir, Mr. Deputy Minister of War," the brigadier was reluctant to speak, "we have the Yekatirina-class cruisers. The last time they were used was in the Latin Peoples Civil War. We have at least four off hand. They were scheduled to be scrapped but we have enough to men to pilot them."

Benjermin seemed to grin for a quick moment, "And the ships names?"

"GMNS Queen Mary's Revenge, GMNS California Dock, and reluctantly the GMNS Mediterranica," he quickly let out.

"Good. Have them over here in an hour. Now for air craft."

Deputy Minister of War Benjermin Harkett sighed and leaned back in his chair. He had already surveyed the defences from a naval attack, they were small but the developed MoskitsLA, a system developed to turn the Anti-Ship missiles into land based missiles, could do some good damage. Twenty B2 Spirits Bombers were also prepared for use, next to forty F/A Eagles.

"Well, this sure will be a show."

Vallingard

Situated some dozens of metres away from the main forum of the Aquaticus Building, a small office crammed with the typical office stationary represented the presence of the United Kingdom within the League. Unlike, however, most of the similar offices scattered throughout the building, the Oceanian office was occupied as Linsares spoke down the hall. Inside the forum, television cameras—especially those relaying to studios in the UK—picked up on the absence of any representatives from the UK in the audience. Instead, Sir Dorian Ferrer sat behind his desk with a glass of whiskey in hand, watching with a wry smile as Linsares provided the world some sort of reassurance.

"Credit to the man for attempting to shift the blame, sir," spoke Ferrer's deputy, Gilbert Mather. Mather, a teetotaler, had declined Ferrer's offer of a stiffer drink than the glass of water in his hand and sipped his clear beverage along with his boss.

"What option does he have left?" Ferrer replied quietly. He pushed some papers around the top of his desk in a vain attempt to appear busy to Mather. Both men, however, remained firmly glued to the television with which they were watching the speech. The two watched the man bluster about, smiling at every extolment of the League and laughing amongst themselves at the reference to the attack by 'belligerent, warmongering, bloody thirsty dogs.'

"Will anyone buy it, sir?"

"Not likely, Gilbert," Ferrer answered. He leaned in to his desk and placed the small glass of whiskey down upon an obviously often-used coaster. "Christ," he added, shaking his head, "I doubt even Garret believes it himself." He reached into his desk and found a copy of the official statement released by the Prime Minister at the withdrawal of Pictlands from the League. Handing it over to his deputy, he smiled. "They know full well that they have dug their own ditch—and I daresay most of the rest of the world knows just as much. Already the Prime Minister is attempting to salvage something out of this corrupted," Ferrer paused, looking around his office, "organisation for his own gain."

Mather quietly read the short notice. In fact, he had already read it once before, but reread it out of respect for his boss. "Very good, sir. Any response from our fellow members?"

"Not as of yet, just the expected vitriol and blustering," Ferrer motioned to the television where Linsares was wrapping up his brief speech. "In all likelihood, the League will quietly acquiesce to Pictish demands. They need the forces deployed there to defend their homelands, and risking conflict to prevent their withdrawal is foolish from a strategic standpoint. And the world knows as much." Ferrer leaned back into his leather seat and found his glass of whiskey, taking some to burn the back of his throat.

The two men watched Linsares step down from the podium to a rapturous applause of support from the assembled members. Mather simply cast a glance over at his boss. "And what do we do, sir?"

"We sit silently on the sidelines, Gilbert. Linsares brought this upon the League and so we let him salvage it."

"We do nothing? Not even diplomatically."

Ferrer smiled. "I have been instructed, Gilbert, to do just that. Straight from Georgetown and the Foreign Office." Both men knew the close friendship shared by the Foreign Secretary and the Prime Minister. Even If Ferrer's orders came from the Foreign Office, they originated from a higher office.

http://img297.imageshack.us/img297/7571/possiblecj7.jpg

Official Communiqué
Republic of Leistung

To: Garret Linsares
From: Ministry of LION Affairs
Subj: Speech

Let us be the first to congratulate you on your rousing speech; know that in our beleaguered state our people have come to see you as something of a beacon of hope for our nation, and you have yet to disappoint them. In these difficult times, it is refreshing to listen to a leader such as yourself--you have a way of telling the people exactly how it is and exactly how it will end.

The actions of Waldenburg place them on the same level as cockroaches in our eyes, and we know that with your leadership they will be crushed as any bug must be.

Sincerely,
http://img246.imageshack.us/img246/2107/lionaffairsbe8.png
Evan Bachmeier
Minister of LION Affairs for the Republic Leistung

OOC: In other words, I was too tired to make an actual response, so I just sent a letter. Also, my capital is Hauptstadt, Hafenstadt is just my shipping/manufacturing/2nd largest city, and for everyone for future reference, the people of Leistung are called the Leistungis (I struggled for a while with that one :D)

OOC: Tell me if you disagree, but I am taking a turn on the attacking side. Also can some one create an actually updated map, meaning it still has all of my claims and land on it. Just so I can effectively RP this and know where everyone is.

IC:

3:15 PM, Mediterranican Union International Zone
Bay of Ruckinia, Mediterranica

A leopard; sleak, lean, and fast. The GMNS Leopard was just so, for the behemoth of a Davidson-class suppercarrier that it was. The massive ship tore apart the waves that slashed into it's bow and that eventually formed a v off of the stern. It was finnally Commodore Thomas Phillip Parker's turn to take a stab at the treacherous MU. Him and Commodore Matther H. E. Hayes were asigned to manuever around Mediterranican positioning to redesign the ravishing MUIZ into what the Serstabele coast turned into after the Gatawayan coordinated attack. On the day of the surpising assualt, Thomas and his men were part of the third wave of defence, the Gatawayan's were fended off before he could arrive and it was his turn to give the Mediterranican Union a fight that would surpise them. Slyvmyrston was capable of launching the two ships off, bases in Serstabele were the only bases available to shoot out over forty B2 Spirit bombers.

Thomas Parker held fast towards the MUIZ, he was too proud to fail and to strong to falter. He looked up to the afternoon sky, hung above him was both the sun and the B2 Spirit bombers speeding by in a V formation, five planes per formation. As his mind sauntered off towards the sun the radio buzzed alive, the Military Command Centre of Easen, an extremely secure and protected line, was wiring them to fill in their mission. Although their mission was quite obvious, the Commodore couldn't wait to hear it.

"MCC of Easen to GMNS Leopard, do you copy?" the radio buzzed out the pending question.

Parker flipped a switch so that he may speak and replied, " Yessir, GMNS Leopard reporting for duty. What is our orders?" the Commodore questioned.

"Operation Dazed Chapman is a go. Precede with your orders," the voice sounded thrilled and rushed as it came into the GMNS Leopards communications line.

"Yes sir, Task Force 4 is en route, estimated time of arrival: twenty-five minutes and counting." Thomas let his finger off of the switch and gave a sigh of relief. The same people that had brought him pain would all universally be striked at once, by a single carrier.

Thomas looked ahead of him, the lively, robust city was bright and sparking with life. The sun gently reflected a picture off of the glass of the sides of the buildings. For a quick second the Commodore thought he was wrong about the ETA. From where his ship was placed on the gentle waves it were as if the MUIZ was directly in front of the GMNS Leopard.

The giant, awe inspiring, towering buildings would soon be no taller than the Commodores, As the thought came into Commodore Parker's a loud screeching noise was made and one side of the nearest tower was burning. The metal of the structure collapsed under the weight of itself as it was destroyed.

Over thirty payloads made of highly explosive material were being dropped, in pieces, scattered over the city. The extremely explosive susbtances tore apart the city below. In a matter of minutes all of the B2 Spirirts were either shot down or empty of their payload.

It was finally time to have the MU feel the pain the Grestonians had in Serstabele. Ten more bombers sped in, in two edgless V's. As they came above the central square, flaming batches of boiling napalm opened up and burned away what was beneath it.

Commodore Thomas Phillip Parker had a hardy laugh at the city's expense, but he felt an odd sensation of unfulfilled. Which was why the Leopard was ordered to shoot a volley of missiles for measures.

With a chucle he prayed for the city, "Poor bastards."

3:14 PM, Vena Base
Ventrica, Vera Cava

The day had gone down quite upleasently, leaving the afternoon bleak and cold. In norhern Vera Cava, the Grestonian colony which was a member of the Greater Levantian Empire, the only thing that was warm was the stale beer and the racing heart beats of the tank crews of over four hundred Jaguar Main Battle Tanks. All around the Mediterranica, wherever there was a Grestonian holding big enough to fit a military installation, soldiers were gearing for an assualt of some sorts.

But at that specific base, four hundred tanks were prepared and ready to blast down the Isthmatian border to encounter what was thought to be extremely small resistance. It was believed that the majority of the military assets in Isthmatia was near the extremely expensive Isthmatian Canal. The canal had cost billions of dollars to produce and it provided a link for nations on the other edge of Levantia to travel inwards to the center Mediterranica.

With what was hoped to be a victory on the border would bring a less stingent defence of the canal, appropiate enough for the ships stationed in a port on either coast of the GLE to move in and destroy such a precious holding.

The infantry, air force, and naval assets for the Isthmatian project was labeled as Task Force 2. The naval section of the task force was made up of the GMNS Shannon, as it's flagship, the GMNS Queen Charlotte, the GMNS Royal Sovereign, the GMNS Minotuar, the GMNS Mediator, the GMNS Hornet, the GMNS Immortalite, the GMNS Invincable, and the GMNS Charles W. Morgan.

The Shannon, a massive Sovereign-class Nuclear Powered Guided Missile Battlecruiser, Queen Charlotte, an Archeron destroyer, the Royal Sovereign, another Sovereign class battlecruiser, and the Hornet, a Guardian class destroyer, were the ships picked to attack the west opening of the canal. The rest of the ships, all of which were either Seastabber's, Irondeck's, or Hermin's, had the east.

Their orders were not to attack until the tankers had reached their goal. With the help of forty B2 Spirit bombers, filled with napalm, the centre of the Isthmatian Canal would be cleared in moments.

At around 3:23 PM, the tanks started rolling down the roads, ominously scaring away anyone before them. At 3:24 PM, the first two B2 Spirit bombers dropped, upon the border guards, batches of napalm, giving the tanks more time to rest before battle.

As the tanks took their course, 5,000 infantry units, from scattered brigades, where pulled together to form the infantry to attack the Isthmatian Canal.

The land and air forces effectively made enough trouble rouse the Aschenhrystians to the inland parts as the ships of the line took their turn to deploy.

As the centre of Isthmatia was under seige, ten more B2 Spirit bombers went off to bomb up and down the canal with explosive materials, rather than napalm. The GMNS Shannon pulled foward and got ready to embrace the Davidson-class supercarrier that would indefinately be waiting.

3:16 PM, Randian and Expansion Port
Ozningham, Corslak

OOC: More to come.

Easen, Greston

Adante for Flute (http://www.mozart-weltweit.de/09a07.wma)

Bodies lined the ground and street, with tiny shards of copper still pinking down. Though the bombs had been packed not to harm the cathedral their sheer force had done so and sent the spire thundering down to street level. Two bishops picked themselves up and dusted their robes off, two other clergy members did not stand, but it would matter so little in a few hours.

“Your Imminence,” a ringed hand was extended and kissed gently by the subordinate bishop, who had tears in his eyes, and whose voice shook, “Light forever.”

“Indeed, your grace, it has been an honor. I should liked to have seen it through until the end, but we have arrived at a different end.” People, in the obtuse way they have were gathering around the explosion and no doubt within minutes there would be emergency vehicles crowding the street. “So,” the cardinal, red robes billowing, flicked from his sleeve a small, Glock pistol and checked the clip. With rather less enthusiasm, his other clergy members drew from their robes various weapons from long bladed hunting knives to a set of grenades, “let us make the time. My life for yours, oh Great One.”

In an inexorable charge the clergy, and their foremen gathered speed, dashing down the long avenue dodging debris and jumping bodies until they came to the first person they could find, and stuck a pistol in his face, and ended him. Everywhere where indigenous of pious Waldenburg churchgoers could be found they burst from their temples or homes, and began to bloody the streets indiscriminately. Most, back in the Empire, had been trained to make napalm from gasoline and Styrofoam and hurled it from their windows unto their neighbors houses and into the streets.

There were not so many as to be trusted with the secrets of the day, a comparative handful but they were the terrier amongst the rats, and took little concern for their own lives as they carried out their devastation.
--

At sea the story was much the same, The WIS Implacable made a brave attempt through it CIWS pumping insanely and indeed flack cannons on the deck attempting to beat away the missiles however how ever many were down there was a constant stream behind. One slipped through the defense and was followed by hundreds more which over the course of a few seconds reduced the ninety thousand ton vessels to flame and bodies. Other ships around the small fleet group were struck in the same fashion, with two destroyers going up in column of flame. There was little that the surface fleet could do, and in keeping did little. They fired their anti shipping missiles compliments at the enemy ships and kept their guns pumping at the shore line and distant cities and military bases.

Attack submarines, so much as they were amongst the fleet were sent to create and exclusion zone around the numerous fleet groups and chase off the battlecruisers wth torpedoes before they could cause too much additional damage. It however was never intended to be a lasting fleet, and casualties were already vindicating the decisions of
--

In the skies over Greston proper the few jets which had been rigged to act as escorts of the much larger bombers wings were already smoldering heaps amongst Easen and the other coastal cities of Greston. The carrier group over Easen had just heard of the WIS Implacable’s demise and sullenly clicked their ordinance to armed. Most of the formation had been lost when enemy aircraft had engaged. Perhaps it was all the best that the remaining air group was entirely separated as it began to drop its ordinance; the fires would spread faster.

OOC I'll wait to respond to the rest until your done.

A.N.S. Bear Wallow
On approach to international waters outside Waldenburg

The fleets assigned to the Sumgian Area of Operations in Operation: BURNING CANAPES were reassigned to the Waldenburg Area of Operations to take part in the Asgarnian Operation: IVORY TALON.

The role of the Asgarnian combined naval and air forces, supported by Army and Marine divisions, would be to assist the LION combined task forces in retaliating against Waldenburg.

---

Admiral Baker's ships were soon joined by a new addition to the navy, compliments of Lyras. Two Longsword-class missile battleships joined the fleet.

Baker looked out the windscreen of her vessel, wiper blades silently shifting from left to right. Left to right. A small storm had hit the flotilla, but the weather would not effect the plans. Two rapid beeps from a console near Baker jolted her back from her altered state of consiousness that had made her so enamored by such a trivial item. She could not help but compare that situation to the situation the LION forces found themselves in.

But her orders were not to ponder the implications of her actions or compare situations. Her job was to ensure that the Waldenburgers were adequately punished for their actions.

---

Combat patrols took off from the Bear Wallow and ASW helicopters quickly established a patrol perimeter around the ships that had just begun to slow to a halt. The ships would hold their positions until the rest of the LION forces managed to meet up and establish attack routes...

OOC: I am waiting for a post by Vetaka as to the turnover of LS, at which point I will make a comprehensive IC response.

Taskforce Isterus
Neuvan Sea, South-West Greston
3:26 PM

Fleet Commander Minaith depressed one section of the view control button on the ships TACOPS system. The holographic projection on the device before him went fuzzy and then rapidly refocused itself this time zoomed out to show a wider area of ocean. In the very distant corner the first of Grestonian lands came into view, the bottom section of the western-most landmass and the large Island off its tip. Toward the other corner was the array of Imperial ships, countless vessels of varying size, all moving with perfect precision with one deadly goal in mind.

Stepping away from the tactical device and moving behind a pair of officers talking quietly over a nearby console as they ran diagnostics of the crafts systems to recheck all was in order for the coming days, Minaith made his was to the bridge window. In perfect replication to what he had just seen on the tactical display his fleet spread out across the vast but currently lifeless ocean. Only the churning wake of vessels off before him made any movement as if the waves themselves had fled before the imminent violence that was to come.

‘Commander,’ a voice called to him from the doorway behind, ‘we have confirmation of full battle readiness from all ships. ‘The engineers have even repaired that jerky gun hydraulic, in fact they assure me it works better than it did when it was new and want have their work review for possible implementation for an upgrade.’

‘Very good, Lieutenant. You can tell them that will be our first agenda when we return victorious to the Empire.’

OOC: just a short update on my fleets progress as not sure where that fleet that’s not a fleet you metioned is Greston. If its between my fleet and the island I’ll RP engaging that first otherwise my next post will be my initial attacks on your land. If you still want to talk to me on MSN before I do that ill be on for a few more hours now.

Kartika, Kirav

Chancellor Särden Evergreen stood on a balcony looking out from Krovenirene Castra onto a black-clad crowd of thousands. At his side was Kêrin Vendikur, warhawk of the Senate.

"Citizens of the Empire. I am here today to adress you upon two very grave and very saddening issues.

The first and closest to home is, of course, the disappearance of Emperor Irasur Seawind. It is my great regret to announce that at five o'clock this morning, the IIA and the Imperatorial Guard pronounced the Emperor officially dead."

He half expected a mourning drone from the crowd. But it was not to come, and he knew it. A plane does not crash in a tropical storm in the midst of the furious Pelagic Ocean, and still yield survivors.

"Emperor Seawind was a leader to be respected. He elevated Kirav's standing in the eyes of the world. He led us further down the new path that Emperor Raincedar opened for us. And that was, and is, a path that will lead the Empire to greatness.

Irasur Seawind was a man that would have fit well into the ancient Coscivian legends in the stead of a great hero. He was a great intellectual, a loyal Saskev, a devout Christian, and a loving father and husband. He is the model citizen that Kiravic value would have at the helm of the people who devised it.

As is custom, and as is no less than required by the passing of this great man, I hereby order that the Black Ensign be raised today under every Imperial flag, from Valëka City to the furthest western colony, and from the Polar Islands to Saar-Antärctica."

http://i232.photobucket.com/albums/ee194/Glyphick47/Flags/BlackEnsign.png

On cue, the Empire's mourning flag was marched in by an honour guard of Kiravian soldiers, and raised slowly. With it, other colour guards stationed throughout Kartika hoisted the Ensign above the city.

"The second matter which I bring before the people of Kiravia on this day of sorrow shall no doubt bring naught but more grief upon us.

The Holy Empire of Lord Sumguy is under attack by the forces of the League of Imperial Ocean-faring Nations. Likewise, Greal and Cazelia, fellow members of the late Confederate Nations have been assailed by these barbarian hordes as well.

As we all know, these acts of war have been committed by LION to bring about the dissolution of the Hegemony, an alliance to which we are a member and a party. When we made the commitment to join this alliance, we, in part, and for the whole, accepted responsibility for the defence of other member states.

As per this, and the decision of the Imperial Senate, I officially declare war on the League of Imperial Ocean-faring Nations."

Shocked silence hit the crowd for a few seconds. Then came the dull murmurs of discussion. There was no applause. There was no outcry. There was nothing left to be done.

"I know that many of you oppose this decision. I know that most in the Empire's political spheres, and most Kiravians of all classes oppose the very idea of sending our men to die for something other than the Empire that they signed up to serve. But in reality, the soldiers that shall be sent, that shall fight, and shall die in battle, are serving the Empire. Even more, they are serving all of mankind by giving their lives to stop the advance of the bloodthirsty conquerers of LION. If they succeed in this enterprise, then they shall eliminate a threat both to our security, and that of our allies. This is why we must fight, why we will fight, and why we will triumph."
--

http://i232.photobucket.com/albums/ee194/Glyphick47/KiravSeal.png

Kiravian Empire

Permissim Astrav Subleucim

Imperial Chancellory

Declaration of War

As Chancellor of the Kiravian Empire, in the stead of its Emperor and as the voice of its legislature, I hereby declare that as State of War exists between the League of Imperial Ocean-faring Nations and the Kiravian Empire.

We hold the attacks agaainst Greal, Cazelia, and Lord Sumguy, to be unprovoked and merely a barbaric act of war-for-war's-sake by the League, engineered by the Promethian Republic of Faxnavia. These assaults against our allies will not be tolerated any further.

It must be added, however, that we do still have friends in LION, who we still consider honourable and worthy. Our word goes out to the Island Empire of Barronia, and the United States of Zoingo. Our sympathy goes out to the besieged Island Empire. We wish dearly that they had not been assailed, and that we had not been placed on opposing sides. They are a noble nation, and it is our hope that they remain so. To the Zoingans: Any offencives against LION by Kiravian forces shall pass Zoingan troops and assets without causing them harm, should they enter into this war in the future.

Another of this Earth's most honourable races, the Picts must also be netioned. We admire and commend their judgment and resolve in leaving the League and choosing the side of Good. May their swords stay ever sharp.

That being said, our war on LION commences, to end only when peace is achieved and the people of the Hegemony and the civilised societies of the world can live not in fear, but in freedom.

--

Selkirk Air Force Base, Borenesia, Kiravian Empire

Now that war had been declared, the preparations to fight it were being made.

Two different operations were being equiped at Selkirk. The first involved the loading of bombers onto two aircraft carriers. The plan was not to engage LION at sea, but to send reinforcements to defend Lord Sumguy on its home turf. The second would aid the imperiled citizenry of Cazelia and Greal. Cargo planes were being recaulked and loaded here that would island-hop to both nations and deliver food, medical supplies, and, of course, kevlar vests and ammunition.

Imperial High Command had decided that investing troops in Sumguaia was more likely to be a successful mission than to do so in Cazelia or Greal, using historical evidence. KE troops captured abroad in hostile-held territory would be a complete disaster for the military and civil administration in Kiravia. However, the two countries had been steadfastly allied with and to the Empire, and that trust needed to be somehow repaid.

Saar-Silverda, Cascada Province, Kiravian Empire

Troop and supply carriers lay well-guarded within Occident Naval Harbour, the military portion of the city's formidable port infrastructure. Lines of green-clad soldiers marched aboard to Battle Hymn of the Republic, carrying their backpacks and duffel bags into the bowels of the transport. Containers full of food and other provisions were being loaded by conveyor into cargo ships, to sustain the troops and naval personnel on the journey to Sumguaia and while defending the country.

It had begun calmly. But would it end so?

Hafenstadt, Leistung
Moved from 'An Experiment In Perdition'



The first units of the regiment, under withering gunfire, began to spread out amongst the still intact buildings around Hafenstadt proper. Though the barrage from sea had opened quite a corridor, every window could be a potential machine gun nest, every street a choke point. Large swaths of either fire or debris also cut Waldenburger options, and the advance ground to a halt. Of the 25,000 men in the transports at least 2,000 were incapacitated is some way, and another 1,500 hundred were either wandering the docks with a rather concussed look or aimlessly floating in the harbor.

Additional reinforcements were arriving though; the destroyers, who on the whole beached themselves rather poorly , were disgorging their non-essential crew and sending them into the city with what small arms could be scavenged. Of the three destroyers in functioning condition in the bay, only one had managed to stay upright as it had wedged itself between a construction crane and a burned out hulk.

Thousis had been on one of the ships, which had failed to find purchase on the beach and had gently keeled to the left, blocking most of it’s missiles tubes, and making the deck gun nearly impossible to fire. The admiral ordered the evacuation barring a small crew that was to stay behind, and destroy the admiral’s sea chest as well as Admiralty orders and the transponder.

When Thousis hit the ground he was greeted by a dizzying world of smoke and screaming; his dress uniform was stained haze black in a few minutes from the multiple oil fires both in the bay and from stores within the city. His naval cutlass looked entirely out of place amongst the scrambling marines, and he quickly sheathed it for a more modest pistol. Amongst the waves of the harbor he could hear his own sailors scream as what appeared to be a set of frigates plow through stranded survivors in the water and clutching the more buoyant piece of their former vessel.

With a flourish and nervous grunt the vice admiral checked his watch, the rear guard, should be in cannon range in a few moments, and with tactical information streaming back from the harbor the chances of a misfire were greatly diminished. Also in the sky he could hear the far away drone of heliucopter blades. He did not know what sort of commander would bring submarines into a bay, and it seemed, with a liberal dousing of charges he never would. “Radio the rear guard, Captain Azel aboard the Baden,” he grabbed and ensign, “they are to fire immediately. Anything, fire it, draw those frigates attentions away from the beach.” The ensign spun away under a flow of men who were hastily scrambling to be out of the sights of the deck guns on the enemy frigates.

“Captain!” A marine officer was organizing hurrying sailors into carrying away a few of the lighter automatic guns from the ships, “I want stingers and rockets in those cranes over there, and take a squad into that building, keep those ships,” he smiled in a dull way, “at bay.”

Hansa, Oceanian Atrea

James Radley tapped his fingers upon his faux wooden desk. It was all he could do while his laser printer—three years old but ready to be trashed—printed the latest news from the CBC website. Radley held the position of intelligence officer for the commander of the Royal Navy's Nova Station, Rear-Admiral Liam Murphy. While normally he would be far more inclined to presenting satellite imagery or human intelligence, the toner emerging on the paper in front of him carried equally important news.

As it finished, before it lay flat on the tray, Radley took the sheet and walked swiftly down the hall to the wooden door bearing Murphy's name and rank. Knocking, he heard his boss' muffled shout leak through. Satisfied, Radley opened the door and found the admiral and one of his subordinates, rank of captain, probably a commander of one of the ships moored a few hundred metres from the offices. The captain and admiral shook hands and Radley offered a quick salute to the captain, then waited to hear the click of the knob before approaching Murphy.

"It is not just the League now, sir," Radley said without any pleasantries, handing over the sheet of paper.

Murphy, commander of an under-staffed and under-equipped station, read the Kiravian declaration of war against the League of Imperial Ocean-faring Nations. The earlier cordial grin born by Murphy twisted into a dour frown in less than a heartbeat. "Very well, James, let us bring in the staff for a meeting in," Murphy paused to look at his wrist watch, "fifteen minutes. Make some copies of this," he handed the news back to Radley before continuing, "and prepare notes on regional combat capabilities as well. In the interim, I shall issue the orders for our contingency plan."

Straits of Shesharlie, Nova

From southern ports, all small in comparison to Hansa, smaller warships set to sea. Already, small surface groups comprised of multi-role and dedicated-role frigates were patrolling the northern and southern ends of the strait. Beneath the surface, diesel-electrics and nuclear attack boats kept a silent watch, especially further south of the Straits in the region's Southern Sea. To the north of the Straits, the same classes of submarines kept watch on the entrances to the Great North Sea.

Commodore Craig Robards commanded a squadron of frigates and light carriers. His command would typically be one of his light carriers, however, his orders from Hansa required him to put to sea immediately. And the frigate HMS Elegance was already in position. A quiet man from the city of Rockingham, he had moved to Oceanian Atrea not by choice, but because he had been ordered to serve Crown and Country in the capacity of squadron commander.

Having landed by helicopter on the flight deck of the frigate, he had quickly made his way to Operations. He watched with quiet satisfaction as the tactical officers reported the first near-approaches of Royal Navy and Royal Air Force long-range patrol aircraft en route for the Southern Sea. Behind them, fighters and tanker aircraft were surging from land bases to establish secure areas from which Oceanian aircraft could operate without Kiravian or Delesian interference. Robarts, however, realised that it would still take a few days before his squadron would be in position. And a week before heavier reinforcements would arrive in the Southern Sea.

Indawé, Kontaréa, Kirav

This city in the archipelagic province of Kontaréa was home to the Central Novan Sea [Kiravians can't call it the Southern Sea, being south of it] Operations Command. And they were not happy.

"Sir, we have some bad news," said a young officer to Rear Admiral Lentsar, the KE's naval authority for that body of water.

"'Twas to be expected. Report."

"Oceanian forces are mobilising in the Straits of Shesharlie from their colony Atrean colony. They're already sending advance forces into the Central Sea."

"Does Kartika know?"

"Yes. Ensign MecTolen confirmed it."

"Have they sent orders?"

"Not yet, sir."

"Very well. Raise defences on the North Coast to Orange Alert. I want Coast Guard ships and long-range patrol and scouting ships deployed. Prepare to arm the coastal artillery emplacements. Get me a phone line to Kartika. Now, damnit!"

"Y-yes, sir!"

Kartika, Kirav

[SIC]

"A pity," said Lord Blackfield to Chancellor Evergreen after he heard the news, "We've always viewed them as quite noble, the Oceanians. Fellow colonialists. Personally, I thought them to be much like the Coscivs during the..."

"This isn't a time for reflective anthropology, Blackfield. Not only will we be fighting a respected empire by our own people, but we'll be fighting in our home theatre. Support for the war effort's going to evapourate pretty damn fast when this reaches the Senate."

A knock on the door was heard.

"Come in," said the Chancellor.

Supreme General Sendar Woodland entered, followed by two senior officers, and Kêrin Vendikur, a Senator.

"Afternoon, General," said Evergreen.

"Likewise, Chancellor," said Woodland, "I'm glad you've not said 'Good Afternoon'."

"Very well, General. Present to me what's happened."

"Well, Sèr, the Oceanians have blockaded the Straits of Shesharlie. Three recorded KE merchants in the are are safely within Sheshan waters. That's the good news. The bad news is that advance forces are moving into the Central Nova Sea. Admiral Lentsar's raised the alarm, and has already sent recon vessels and readied the coastal defences."

"What is your plan, general?"

"It is unlikely that we will defeat a large Oceanian naval force, or, at least, in the middle of the Central Sea. Our plan for the monment is to begin bombing runs and aerial attacks once they clear the halfway point to either Kontaréa or mainland Kirav. As they move closer, we shall step up the perliminary attacks. Heavier bombings, small destroyer or frigate raids, and that ilk. We'll start engaging with battleships once we have the aid of coastal artillery."

"Indeed. Well done, General. But what if they begin a land invasion?"

"We have the home turf advantage. We've excellent ground forces, for one. This, bolstered by fortifications, aid of irregulars and armed civilians, terrain, and infrastructure, will, in any case, give us a considerable defence."

"And what if Kontaréa is overrun? That may lead to the failure of the mission to Lord Sumguy."

"Which is why, Sèr, we have accelerated our launch plans. The armada will be underway within the next week from Kirav. If that fails, we may be able to send more lightly loaded vessels to call at Damirez, Mephras, or another Delian League member, as we have a common enemy, and send smaller vessels to there carrying the remaining troop and supply complement."

"Approved, General. Make it so."
--
Central Nova Sea, Kiravian Contiguous Zone

A small convoy of six long-range patrol vessels headed out into the Central Sea, towards Hamanistan, where they would alter direction to get closer to the Straits of Shesharlie, to monitor Oceanian activity.

Lord Sumguy

The Peace talks and the current situation gave Greal time to reinforce its armies, and send a massive naval fleet (Third Fleet, four hundred vessels) plus the 6th Field Army to Lord Sumguy. The remaining Greal naval vessels (Numbering about two thousand) will reinforce Greal's colonies and Greal itself. With the Kiravian Empire joining the war on the Hegemony's side, morale rose, and now, they believed they would drive the LION naval forces back to their own capitals. General Will Riddle, also the Vice Hegemon, flew to Lord Sumguy since he was the commander of the 6th army. His forces, tired and exhausted, established bases and command outposts around Lord Sumguy. Accompanying him was Admiral Caine, commander of the Third Fleet.

While at a base in Lord Sumguy, Will Riddle, Caine, and other generals were discussing the situation at Lord Sumguy.

"Alright. What have we got?" asked Will Riddle

"Six hundred thousand infantry. Forty thousand tracked vehicles. Seven thousand artillery pieces. Three thousand aircraft." said General Adamson, second in command of the sixth army.

"What about supplies?"

"We're hoping that the Lord Sumguy army will supply us, but in case that doesn't happen, we have three months worth of ammunition and food."

"Admiral Caine, whats the naval situation?"

"Well, I have three Lyran Super-capital missile ships, plus a dozen battleships and several hundred others. We'll meet up with our allies there, and combine into one large fleet." said the Admiral

"Will Greal send anything else?"

"No sir, our remaining forces are back in Greal, preparing for the worst." replied Adamson.

"Alright, what about colonial forces?"

"Its a little tricky, we never deployed Gruntian and Lasom troops outside their areas before. They may get their independence spirit back while overseas."

"Well, I don't care. I need every man."

"Alright, the Colonial command is willing to deploy 120,000 troops overseas, but thats it."

"Alright, we'll discuss this after I meet with the Sumguian military officials."

OOC:Greston: I had purchased two Davidson-class vessels from BL in the past, I understood them to be super-dreadnaught battleships not carriers. Regardless, mine will be deployed as Battleships. Short post tonight, work will have me away most of the weekend.

Western approaches to Isthmatia
The Grestonian attack came as no surprise to the defenders of Isthmatia, long had Aschenhyrst Military planners expected such an attack on this vital artery. The western defense fleet consisited of three Nimitz-class Carriers; Defiant, Intrepid and Resolve, ten Improved Iowa-class Battleships, thirty Destroyers, twenty Guided missile cruisers, fifteen Minesweepers, two dozen Los Angeles-class Attack Submarines, Five Ohio-class Ballisitic Missile Submarines and the Davidson-class Super-battleship HRMS Prince Robert, the Flagship, moored near the canals entrance.

Spotters in the outreaches of the colony got word to the main force in Isthmatia about the incoming aircraft. Many ground forces retreated to their bomb shelters, anti-aircraft personel fought from hardened positions and aircrews scrambled to get their birds in the air, Strategic bombers and support aircraft were hurried away to underground hangars for shelter. F-22`s raced to confront the invading aircraft, air-defense crews began filling the skies with flak. Airstrikes destroyed a fuel depot .5km from the canal and a nearby ammunition dump, Canal lock #2 recieved minor damage as one of it`s control shacks had been the victim of a direct hit. As a squadron of F-22`s closed in on a Grestonian B-2 Spirit, the fighters opened up with their 20mm chain guns along the fuselage. As the B-2 headed back towards it`s base, smoke was viewed streaming from the bomber.
In the seas, the Fast attack subs jockeyed for posistion against the Grestonian fleet. The submarine HRMS Neptune found the GMNS Royal Sovereign in its crosshairs.
" Hostile vessel dead ahead. Weapons, I want a firing solution."

"Course 257, speed 15 knots, range 1500 meters, solution plotted."

"Flood tubes 1 thru 4, fire two volleys on my mark, 2&3 first 1&4 next."

"Tubes flooded, awaiting orders"

"Fire Tubes 2&3"

"Firing 2&3"

"Fire 1&4"

"Firing 1&4, fish in the water"

"Helm, Right full rudder, make depth 350 feet. Put her deep boys and we`ll try to get on the other side of this fleet."

Eastern approaches to Isthmatia
An identical sized fleet was deployed to the east of Isthmatia, flagged by the Davidson-class Battleship HRMS Revenge, moored at the eastern opening ogf the canal. Fighters from both sides engaged in dogfights over the Ponenetian Sea. Flak filled the skies. The Iowa Battleship Hibernia recieved heavy damage as she was preyed upon by five Grestonian ships.

OOC: Best I can do for now. Holiday weekend on top of payday means I`ll be scarce until tuesday.

Saar-Silverda, Kirav

Pressed for time, the first part of the Armada was launched from Saar-Silverda.

It consisted of fifteen large troop carriers, each carrying 20,000 men, as well as ten cargo ships, and four assault carriers. All were escorted by a force of frigates (2 Perry-class, 2 Halifax-class, 3 Sachsen-class, and 2 Anzac-class), a Type-23 modified Escort Destroyer, and a single Iowa-class battleship.

In total, Detatchment 1 carried 325,000 soldiers.

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Kiravian Empire

Permissim Astrav Subleucim

Imperial Chancellory

Declaration of War

As Chancellor of the Kiravian Empire, in the stead of its Emperor and as the voice of its legislature, I hereby declare that as State of War exists between the League of Imperial Ocean-faring Nations and the Kiravian Empire.

We hold the attacks agaainst Greal, Cazelia, and Lord Sumguy, to be unprovoked and merely a barbaric act of war-for-war's-sake by the League, engineered by the Promethian Republic of Faxnavia. These assaults against our allies will not be tolerated any further.

It must be added, however, that we do still have friends in LION, who we still consider honourable and worthy. Our word goes out to the Island Empire of Barronia, and the United States of Zoingo. Our sympathy goes out to the besieged Island Empire. We wish dearly that they had not been assailed, and that we had not been placed on opposing sides. They are a noble nation, and it is our hope that they remain so. To the Zoingans: Any offencives against LION by Kiravian forces shall pass Zoingan troops and assets without causing them harm, should they enter into this war in the future.

Another of this Earth's most honourable races, the Picts must also be netioned. We admire and commend their judgment and resolve in leaving the League and choosing the side of Good. May their swords stay ever sharp.

That being said, our war on LION commences, to end only when peace is achieved and the people of the Hegemony and the civilised societies of the world can live not in fear, but in freedom.

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Office of Telegraphics
52nd Floor
Diplomitas Building
New Misenae

To the Kiravian Chancellor;

Whilst we wish this letter were under more pleasent circumstances, we nonetheless should not forget our manners, even during the darkest of days.

We, as a nation, offer our most heartfelt and deepest sympathies for the loss of the Emperor. We trust that a representative will be permitted to attend any ceremonies held in his honour; the Emperor was a dearly loved leader, not just to Kiravians, and his memory will not be lost by either of our two nations.

However, we are proud of the man leading the nation in his stead; you appear a man proud of his nation, full of conviction. It would be an honour to fight against a nation led by a man such as you; however, we are maintaining the promise made previous: no Kiravian personnel shall be intentionally harmed by our hand on the battlefield. You will be, as Lyrans, greeted like brothers, welcome to eat and relax with our own troops. We are of the same cloth - we seek peace and harmony in the world, though we may see different paths to that goal; we are prepared to fight for our causes, even if it means fighting one another; and above all else, we care for our citizens, and will do anything to ensure their safety and wellbeing. Simply a pity that we should find ourselves in differing corners of the ring; it would have been the greatest honour to fight alongside Kiravians, as we have done so many times before on our noble quests to spread civilisation to the darkest corners.

Alas, this letter must be finished. I am called to the Council. However, I must add one final point; beware the Picts. All is not as it seems in that nation, many news reports being fabricated in their entirety. The press, it seems, have become too free in their lands, and their government fuels the flames. We trust, however, Kiravian foresight, and ability to sift the truth from the lies.

With Kindest Regards,

Amelie Carpentier-St Claire
Magistrate
Office of Foreign and Colonial Affairs

--

BMS Philadelphia Freedom, Sumgaian Waters

"All ships, ready cells. I have received word from NAVCOM that peace talks have failed, and we are to begin the attack. ObServ have located key targets, and we are to remove as necessary. I am broadcasting to your weapons systems now.

Flight teams, you are now on full alert. A beachead is required, and you are the people to generate the opportunity. You are to liaise with your counterparts in the LION fleet, and plan as necessary. Godspeed."

The Philadelphia Freedom steamed on, her deck now an orgy of activity; catapults being tested, flight checks underway. Below deck, the organised chaos that was an operation preparation was even more evident; weapons trolleys being towed at ferocious paces; jumpsuited men shouting orders intermingled with liberal sprinklings of obscenities ran across the floor.

Sumgaia would soon know the wrongs of defying LION.

OOC: Just a temp for now, I have to gather a bit more info together and I can deal with the Waldenburger theater and Barronia proper. Waldy, you'll have a TG soon.

http://i194.photobucket.com/albums/z216/Cazelia/seal2-1.gif
~Official Communique~
HEAVILY ENCRYPTED

To: Lord Sumguy, The Holy Empire of Lord Sumguy
From: President Ingram Hasley, The Democratic Republic of Cazelia

Greetings old friend,
As you know, the LION has chosen you to be the first target of their invasion of the Hegemony. To aid you in your struggle, I have ordered that a task force be sent to your nation to help you defend the land that god has rightfully given to you. We shall triumph over this evil wretch that calls itself the LION, no matter the cost. They shall pay dearly for every inch of land they dare take from you. The farther they advance, the more they suffer.

Sincerely,
Ingram Hasley
~President

--

Orlock, Mainland Cazelia
The new Orlock was nothing like what is was before the Londinian occupation. Even after the military began rebuilding the city, it has remained a ghost town. The civilian population there was barely ten-thousand. However, the area surrounding Orlock had become one of the largest fortified areas in Cazelian history. Over four million troops were in Orlock at any one time, and the logistics contingent was substantial. But the one thing that really made Orlock such a hub was it's ports.

Every day ships from all corners of Cazelia would dock themselves at the ports of Orlock or refuel and rearmbefore returning to their theater of operations. There is no ship in the Cazelian fleet that has not set eyes upon Orlock.

That day Orlock was hosting a large chunk of the Cazelian navy, including two Longsword class capital ships, the DRN Cazelia and the DRN Arrow. Along with the fleet's combat vessels were the dozens of heavy transport ships for the ground force being sent to Lord Sumguy. Half of Orlock's garrison was to be sent to aid the nation that held the hegemony together.

As the infantry loaded, Iron Maiden's The Trooper was blared out over the speakers on the dock. It was meet with cheering from the marines, but the army troops simply continued boarding their transports. The marines were alot more enthusiastic about fighting than the basic infantry. They were eager to kill Grestonians, Barronians and Piccavians; More so the Grestonians. Most of the men were busy sharpening their bayonets and loading magazines.


New Caz'e City, Yarkai
Orlock wasn't the only city with a substantial military presence. New Caz'e city was practically one giant airbase. There were at least twenty airfields in the city, eighteen of them military. It was the obvious choice for staging the largest air operation in Cazelian history. Yakai city and Knightsville were also helping with the operation, but not nearly as much as New Caz'e

Four-hundred assorted cargo aircraft were assembled on all of the city's military airfields. They were being loaded with everything from blankets to armored vehicles and men. F/A-18s from the 8th fighter group had ben given the order to protect the shipments of supplies and men at any cost.

The escorts were armed to counter any situation faced by the airfleet. Several of the aircraft carried Harpoon AShMs in case the LION found out about the transports. Most aircraft were loaded with Maverick missiles, AMRAAMs and sidewinders, since the possibility of encountering ground based AAA and fighters was more likely then being intercepted by the enemy fleet.

Kiravis Imperiax TelegraphiaKiravian Empire Communiqué

We deeply thank the Barronians for their true and kind words about our Emperor and our Chancellor. It is a pity that that phrase, "We thank you deeply" cannot convey the depth of our gratitude appreciation. Uttered over promises of assistance, grants of embassies, or applications to our Commonwealth, they have sadly lost their intensity.

Furthermore, we highly appreciate your honouring of your promise to pass over our forces, as we shall pass over yours, should our fleets or armies ever find themselves across the battlefield from each other. Also, we take into account your words of caution, and remember them when we are called upon to pass judgement.

It is our hope that someday, when Barronia, Kiravia and all of the nations of Mediterranica, LION, and Hegemony live under a lasting peace, we can together return to what both of our civilisations, and, indeed, what all great civilisations were meant to do: To bring the light of themselves and what they represent to the darkest corners of the world.

And we hope that that day shall dawn soon.
--

Saar-Silverda, Kirav

The final ship of Detatchment II had just been launched. Detatchment II carried an additional 350,000 men, as well as extra vehicles and artillery for the defencive endeavours in Lord Sumguy.

Detatchments III, IV, and V were still being loaded in New Utica Naval Colony and in Saar-Silverda. Detatchment III would carry the final 350,000 troops, wheras IV and V were to haul ammunition and materiél.

OOC: This is just a repost of my earlier ORBAT against Lord Sumguy. Bear in mind that these forces are just offshore LS, and just launched a major EMP and thermobaric bombardment of Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Savannah, Georgia, and Wilmington, North Carolina.

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Official Piccavian Communiqué

Ministry of War
Office of the General Staff
07 Regierungstraße
Helvetia, Piccavia A113 HV0

To the Hegemonic nations:

Imagine firestorms ravaging the bombed-out hulks of your cities, rivers of blood flowing through your occupied countryside, and the chillingly mechanical sound of a blender's blades echoing through your streets. This is the fate that shall await you if you fail to comply forthwith and completely with LION's demands. Our forces are mobilizing and deploying at this very instant. Act quickly.

Hail victory!

http://i194.photobucket.com/albums/z259/pertinax201/signature.png
The Rt. Hon. Victoria E. Foyle
Minister of War, Federal Piccavian Commonwealth

***

FPS Victoria Foyle
Küstenschanze, Piccavia
0930 hours

War Minister Foyle brushed her hands lightly over the stainless steel control panels of the FPS Foyle, the ship bearing her name. It was a deadly, lethal ship, with more guns and missile batteries than most commanders knew what to do with. The Foyle stood in stark contrast, ironically, to Ms. Foyle, a young, beautiful, innocent-looking woman, with soft blue eyes and springy blond curls. Nonetheless, her exquisite body housed a cold, calculating mind, one that could rival any other military mind, one that's sole focus was victory at any cost. She looked up from the blinking radar screen to see through the aluminum oxynitride windows to see the naval force assembled at the Küstenschanze. Between the First Armada of the Piccavian Bundesmarine and the 1st LION RRF Expeditionary Force, nearly a thousand ships floated upon the tranquil waters of the Munzinger Sea. Victoria sighed with pride, marveling at the wonders of the Piccavian war machine. It was small, yes, but it churned out some of the finest fighting men and women the world might ever see.

"Ms. Foyle," a voice said, waking the war minister from her reverie. "All ships report ready to depart, with all men and materiel accounted for."

"Excellent," Victoria replied. "I would like to address our troops as we set off, Admiral."

"But of course," the admiral stated, bowing. He handed Victoria a small microphone, one wired into the address systems of each of the Piccavian vessels.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the Piccavian Expeditionary Force!" Victoria said exuberantly into the microphone. "Today, we embark upon a great crusade. With the clarion call of war, we sound the death knell for the Hegemony! Today, we shall rid the world of a pestilence that has, for too long, plagued us. Piccavia shall prevail in its noble task. The civilized men of the world march together towards victory! I have full confidence in your courage and devotion to duty and skill in battle. We will accept nothing less than full Victory! Good luck! And let us beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking."

She could faintly hear cheering from the decks below. Victoria smiled, whispering to herself the hallowed dictum of Blendtec, "Will it blend?"

ORBAT:
First Piccavian Army
Light Infantry Divisions x2
Armoured Divisions x2
Mechanized Infantry Divisions x2
Artillery Divisions x1
Air Assault Divisions x1
Special Ops Divisions x1
Logistics Brigades x1

Third Piccavian Army
Light Infantry Divisions x2
Armoured Divisions x2
Mechanized Infantry Divisions x2
Artillery Divisions x1
Air Assault Divisions x1
Special Ops Divisions x1
Logistics Brigades x1

First Piccavian Armada
Gerald R. Ford-class aircraft carriers x18
Queen Elizabeth class aircraft carriers x48
Caprivi class battleships x84
Hoyle-class Superdreadnoughts x12
Type 23 frigates x114
Astute-class submarines x108
Type 45 destroyers x114
Braunschweig class corvettes x90

First LION RRF Expeditionary Force
4 Tempora Heroica-class aircraft carriers (Asgarnieu)
1 Type 251 Carrier (Barronia)
2 Type 242 Carrier (Barronia)
5 Type 192 Battlecruiser (Barronia)
7 Type 33 Frigate (Barronia)
7 Type 29 Destroyer (Barronia)
10 Leo-class Gunships (Asgarnieu)
6 Queen Elizabeth class aircraft carriers (Piccavia)
30 Type 45 Destroyers (Piccavia)
6 Caprivi-class battleships (Piccavia)
21 Type 23 frigates (Piccavia)
30 Braunschweig-class corvettes (Piccavia)
15 Astute-class submarines (Piccavia)
32x General Hansen Class Helicopter Assault Ship (Binaria)
16x Battle Class Escort Carrier (Binaria)
32x Halcyon class Attack Submarine (Binaria)
500,000 Marines (Asgarnieu/Maldorians)
2nd Defensive Field Army (50,000) (Barronia)
32nd Mech Infantry Brigade (7,000) (Binaria)
Light Infantry Division BC, BD (20,400) (Piccavia)
104th Fighter Wing (1,200 aircraft) (Piccavia)

Kiravis Imperiax TelegraphiaKiravian Empire Communiqué

To: Piccavian Ministry of War
Regarding: Ultimaum


Bring it.



Regards,

S. Wõdlin

Sendar Wōdlin
Supreme General, Kiravian Imperial Military

OOC: Oh, well I seemed to make a mistake then... Well I'd assume they aren't carriers either now. Sorry for any confusion.

2:28 PM, BMS Resolve
Hafenstadt Harbor, Leistung

The thumping of the Amboß Class Cruiser’s 130mm main gun was deafening as the shells flew out at a steady pace, targeting the still usable destroyers which had beached themselves and the masses of men on the beaches. The other eight ships in the flotilla steamed into the harbor, firing rapidly at any men bold enough to poke their heads out. Passive as the Leistungi people may be in peace, the slaughter of their countrymen did wonders for a man’s ruthlessness, and it was obvious from the moment the ships entered the bay that no prisoners would be taken.

Firing orders came fast and furious on the bridge of the Resolve, and no one was letting up any time soon. The fire control officers sat at their stations with stoic looks set on their faces, calling out coordinates to gunnery and missile crews.

“Center destroyer, gun revolving. Target 5” on bridge and fire for effect!” one man yelled, turning to the window to watch the tracer shell penetrate the air and speed towards one of the beached destroyers.

“Infantry squad, north building, prepping rocket launcher. Re-target 5” and load Mk182’s.” The Mk182 projectile was a shell fired from the 5” gun loaded with more than 9000 tungsten pellets packed into the firing projectile body, and was used in clearing off ship decks and wiping out surface units. The pellets would be traveling at a sufficient speed to penetrate the steel building exterior and the rate of fire would guarantee the squad’s decimation. “Main gun targeted. Fire for effect.”

Harbor Road
Hafenstadt, Leistung

Of the original 10,000 Volkssturm men rallied to protect the city, only about 9,000 remained alive, and of that, only 5,000 were uninjured. Bodies lay strewn about on the road leading to the city center, and building on both sides of the street could be seen smoking, fires raging within. Still, the volunteer soldiers fought on, though more and more could be seen hopping on cars fleeing the scene in the opposite direction or running and hiding in the few places not yet reached by Waldenburger forces.

A band of between twenty and twenty-five men, ages ranging anywhere from eighteen to fifty peeked over a stack of destroyed cars, firing their weapons indiscriminately at the oncoming tide of marines. Tall brick buildings flanked them and a wall of buses and cars still on fire blocked their escape. The men huddled behind the metal hulk of the car, feeling the bullets impact on the other side and knowing that their time was almost up.

Hans Blau turned his head back to their only route of escape, now blocked by the twisted metal remains of the Hafenstadt mass transit buses lying on their sides bleeding gasoline when the ground began to rumble. The other men turned back as well, mouths agape as three tanks crushed the metal obstacle, turrets turning to face them.

“My friends, I think this may be our last stand,” Blau whispered, loudly enough for the others to hear. “Shall we—” he was cut off my one of the other men, gesticulating at the men in uniform following close behind the armor, firing with precision, but not at the band of Volkssturm, but at the Waldenburger marines.

“My God, they’re ours!” Hans yelled, throwing his arms into the air in glee and quickly bringing them down again as bullets whizzed overhead. The tanks passed them by, their guns already hot and firing as they kept a steady stream of shells trained on the column of Waldenburger who had been caught by surprise and diving for cover (OOC: Yeah, I just RPed for your troops, but it was from a story-telling, not strategical perspective. I’m not claiming casualties or anything.). A fire team of eight men skidded to a halt and took cover about a millimeter from where Hans was sitting. A corporal tapped on his shoulder and extended a hand in greeting.

“You boys from the Volkssturm then?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the sounds of war.

“Yes, sir! Private Blau here, sir!” he responded, barely restraining his fear—the bullets were still flying, no matter who was doing the shooting.

“Well calm the fuck down, soldier!” he yelled, before smacking him on top of his helmet and waving to his squad to keep moving. They clamored over the obstacle, guns blazing, and ran to catch up with the tanks moving at breakneck speed through the streets. All across Hafenstadt the lead elements of the incoming infantry divisions began the arduous task of clearing the streets of hostiles, using the strong frontal armor of the M20A4 tanks as a shield against small arms fire.

Three minutes later, BMS Resolve
Hafenstadt Harbor, Leistung

The radar officer on-board the Resolve turned in his chair to face the captain, a look of terror on his face. “Ah, sir, I think you’d better have a look at this…”

Captain Fuhrmann walked briskly to the radar scope, observing as the officer pointed of a number of green dots approaching firing range of the harbor.

“Sir, they’re definitely not friendly. A rear guard of some sort is my guess, but whatever it is they’re about to come into firing range,” the officer said as other men on the bridge stopped their routine to listen to the captain’s orders. He sighed deeply, knowing that the harbor would have to wait.

“Mr. Gibbs, take us out, full reverse. Weapons control, prepare to fire on incoming targets, anti-ship missiles and full guns. Radio fleet command and warn them of the approaching threat.”

“Ah, Captain, may I note that Waldenburger men still block the exit to the harbor,” Gibbs responded, a tiny smirk visible on his ancient features.

“I know,” he replied simply. “Take us out Mr. Gibbs, full reverse.”

“Yes, sir.”

OOC: I'm going to wait for the Seahawks to arrive before I respond with the submarine's (or fleet's, or air force's) response. I haven't forgotten or anything.

The hulking, gun-metal grey ships of the Faxanavian deployment off the coast of Lord Sumguy continued in their steady course north along the east coast. They were to continue, on the orders of the Prime Minister himself, their assault upon Lord Sumguy. As they splashed slowly northwards, Faxanavian forces were returning to port in Faxanavia, preparing for whatever was to come. A force of three carrier groups was to be deployed into the Medditeranican, and several other groups were designated for fast response, either in the Medditeranican theater, or for conflict in Pictlands, Leistung or Barronia. Still, the League could take care of itself, for the time being. As the three sets of carriers began their long, somewhat arduous journey towards the Medditerannican theater, a nation waited with bated breath to see what would come next.

OOC: ORBAT to come. Damn cold is getting to me, so a more thorough post to come when I've recovered.

Nondescript Location, World Ocean

The Kiravian Armada had coalesced since passing New Utica. The fleet's commanders now had about a week to plan their entry into Sumguaia, where they could offload their cargo of men and metal.

SIC:

<encrypt>

Kiravis Imperiax TelegraphiaKiravian Empire Communiqué

From: Admiral Charles Leonoix, Taskforce: Sumguaia, Imperial Navy
To: Sumguaian Authorities
Regarding: Entry

As you are most likely aware, a Kiravian fleet is en route to your territory, carrying a large complement of ground troops, as well as supply replenishments.

The issue we are faced with is how to run this large logistical fleet through the LION blockade and deposit our payload without being in the position of Carthage at the Aegates. Whatever the plan, it shall require your assistance either at sea or from the shore, or both, if that is how things play out. Please respond soon.

</encrypt>

Nova.
Endless Ocean.

”This is going to get ugly,” Delian League admiral Yves whispered softly as he read the latest intel brought to him by his attendant. Just minutes before, the southern Novan nation of Kirav, with which Damirez entertained somewhat cordial relations despite ongoing suspicions regarding their membership in the Hegemony declared war to the organization known as LION. The declaration confused the Damiran diplomats to no end as it seemed that Kirav actually declared war to the entire organization as opposed to its more belligerent members and, as an unwanted result, brought the fighting close to home, exactly what the Damirans wanted to avoid.

As the commanding officer of the League task force closest to what threatened to be the area affected by this resolution, Yves knew that he'd be the one caught in the crossfire if someone's finger pressed the trigger. It was unlikely that Librescu was going to allow fighting in his region without making at least some attempts to stop it. The Equilibrium was more than enough to intimidate both parties at the current stage and within days the Independent, with the famed Admiral Fatima Al'Hamil on board was to rendezvous with the task force, but until then he was the one responsible for the League ships and most likely for controlling the already volatile situation in the area.

”I guess I can say goodbye to catching on lost sleeping hours,” he handed the papers back to the officer that delivered them to his quarters and headed towards his small bathroom, dousing his face with cold water in an attempt to chase the sweet allure of sleep from his eyes. Behind him an unmade bed was evidence to the fact that the message didn't catch him at the best of times. ”Have a coffee wait for me on the bridge,” he told the waiting officer, ”And see what you can do about breakfast!” the admiral didn't like to think about himself as a glutton, but despite the early hours he was hungry, and, were his worst fears to be confirmed, it was unlikely that he would have a chance for a decent breakfast for some time to come.

The Principality of Damirez.
Emergency Council.

Admiral Yves wasn't the only one that had to wake up because of the Kiravian declaration. And among all of them Librescu was the most unhappy one about the proceedings. Months of careful planning wasted down the drain with a threat to regional stability rearing its ugly head out of nowhere. The various faces he encountered were not much better off either, many of them having worked to avoid this exact scenario.

”So, what do we have?” the president asked, opening the meeting once the last of the attending members made an appearance. It took a record time for all participants to the video conference to gather and the president couldn't help but notice that the time went down by another half minute since the last second, even though many of the faces he could see on the screens were unkempt and clearly in need of a good cup of coffee.

”Following the Kiravian declaration? Some very agitated Oceanians,” Davout was the first to reply, surprisingly unaffected by the late hour, ”But that's not a surprise. Oceanian Atrea is already in a hot spot surrounded by nations hostile to LION and this just happened to turn the heat up a bit,” he spoke the words with quite a bit of detachment, ”Obviously, Oceanian support for LION is in question at this point and it's unlikely that they're willing to cross blades for them.”

”Be that as it may, one spark would be enough to change that,” general Belisarius replied, the lack of lipstick on his face making many wonder about just what was going on with the notorious playboy, a much more noble concern, naturally, than national security. ”They would be quick to respond should the Kiravians start hostilities towards Oceanian Atrea in something more than just name.”

”I'll have to agree with that assessment, the consequences for a conflict in Central Nova would be quite dire and we really don't need another crisis there,” thinking about the civil war already ongoing in one the countries of that area was enough to make Davout shiver.

”I'm quite aware of that, Emilian, Flavius,” Librescu's assistant finally delivered him the cup of coffee he was craving ever since he woke up, ”Perhaps we should ask the GDD to call for discussion? They're close both to us and the Oceanians and should be able to sort this mess up? And I don't even want to think about what the other League members are going to have to say about this!”

”At least look at it this way, you won't get bored at Delos now,” Emilian joked at Librescu's predicament. The discussion went further into the night and the next day orders were relayed to various League and Damiran naval formations to assume new positions. The Principality had to be prepared for all possible scenarios.

OOC: Mainly addressed for Kirav and Oceania/Azazia, although it might tie in with some other issues later on.

2:15, Central Easen
Easen, Greston

Gun shots ran out as the clergy from St. Stephan's ran around touting hand guns and poorly made grenades. By standers, who had come to gaze at the wreckage of the was beautiful church, fell to the floor as large, gaping holes were shot through them. Citizens looked on in awe as people fell and as, with a new air of hope, the armoured vehihcles of the infamous S.P.D.O rolled onto the road. Hurriedly climbing out of the back of the truck, heavily armoured men, the black and red colours of their uniform shining, raised their AK-47 issue standard rifles. One row of the S.P.D.O units with the security issued shields protected the officers sent out to stop the fighting. With yell and quick move of formation, forty officers unleashed large volleys of hollow point bullets at the clergy men.

Behind the car which had dropped the units off, a barricade was being constructed so that the Waldenburgers couldn't advance. Further down the block, behind the Waldenburgers, a second barricade was being thrown together, squaring the enemy in. The S.P.D.O squad leader held fast behind the S.P.D.O car's thickly lined, metal door.

The Waldenburgers seemed to be in awe of the quick and effecient working of the Grestonian forces. All of the damage done was of ten civilians laying limp on the side walk, their blood draining into the city sidewalk drains.

No one moved, every unit in the area had their guns trained upon any Waldenburger, still living, lined inside the hollow street. No warning shots were fired, no commands where given to the enemy. No chance to give up or surrender.

The head of the squad in charge of taking out the enemy forces couldn't help but raising the loud speaker he was given, "May god have mercy. For we shall not!"

The police officers found it as their que to fire and quickly emptied their clips into the lifeless bodies of the disgusting Waldenburgers.

2:16 PM, GMNS Royal George
Westminister Waters, Greston

What seemed to be a success was only the begining. Bodies floated lifelessly around the wreckage of the WIS Implacable. Rear Admiral Alan Bradley took the massive blow into Waldenburger lines to be what looked to soon become a victory for Grestonian troops, but over forty more surface ships stood erect, over the raging water. The Waldenburger lines were made mainly of escorts for ships like the Implacable, such as destroyers and a few frigates. They would show little resistance as AShM from across Westminister and Lyreston commenced a raid upon major targets. The smoldering heaps of carnage and the raging strikes from missiles gave Lieutenant Commodore Peter Albain Picken, heading up the GMNS Cerberus which was deployed from Middleton, took it as his chance to crawl towards the attacking Waldenburgers.

His ship, a modest Seastabber battleship, was nothing to be feared in the eyes of admirals over the superdreadnoughts and decorated destroyers which they would attack. Pulling foward, all that was visible in the sky was the sickening smoke of missiles and Grestonian bombers delivering payloads upon enemy ships.

Picken's hand slid from his forehead to his left should, to his right and to his heart, signifying the sign of the cross, he was sure that many would leave the strait in body bags.

The ship lurched foward as an anti shipping missile compacted with the bow, sending CIWS systems on the front of the ordinance to flames. The ship's crew momentarily came to life, long enough to feed an insane amount of CIWS rounds and two missiles into the nearest enemy carrier. Flak cannons roared ominously as they worked excessively to take down air craft heading towards Easen. As the cries rang out of another enemy fighter screamed into the ocean, small black dots sped towards the fighting. The closer the dots came, the loader the scream of their engines were.

The black dots were, of course, another squad of B2 Spirit bombers ready to contribute to the fighting. The took their positions above the battle and switched their ordinance to on, dropping payloads upon the ships below. While doing so, the brunt of the missiles, both friendly and not, came upon them, most of the ten pilots wouldn't live to see tomorrow.

The razing of the ocean was what gave the submarines time to do their deed. They slid around under the surface until they came upon their targets, the submarines that had already taken out four Grestonian ships. The crew scrambled and then went to engage.

2:17 PM, AA Facilities
Easen, Greston

The news of the Implacable's demise spread like wildfire across Easen, the air craft deployed off of it would have nothing to return to, giving a chance for the anti aircraft artillary based in Central Easen Square, and other areas, to unleash their punishment. It was, indeed, extremely hard to establish newer defences as missiles constantly streamed upon the city.

The engaging naval and air assets upon the belligerent enemies and eased the strain upon Easen but the civilians were still being shuffled off into missile silos. The largest string of defense was near the capital building and embassies.

As one strecth of defense was surveying the skies, the first enemy aircraft came into view. With the hopes to be the first to take down enemy aircraft inside Easen, the lit up the sky with their Howitzer. The screaming, flaming flak would most likely hit but it wouldn't in time to stop the coming fate. A fire lit in the sky and streamed closer.

Napalm burned through the flak cannons and men manning them. The nearby trees and grass lit a flame and fed the fire. In over six different parts of the city the same thing happened. Another wave of fighters jetted out to engage the defenseless bombers and stop them from making any more damage.

The inner part of the city was still safe, but at the rate of the fires, Central Easen would be smouldering by midnight, unless actions were taken. The approaching enemy needed to be held back long enough to enable the fire department to give it their go.

But with the constant dropping of bombs, and heaping aircrafts layed everywhere, it was impossible.

3:03 PM, GMNS St. Claire
NE Neuvan Sea, Mediterranica

"Get a message of to Cambridge command and Scarlet Base, Yallakian forces are approaching!"

The orders echoed through the control room, the monitor was focused upon a live feed picture of the moving Yallakian fleet. The St. Claire's fate was imminent, when a task force of the greatest nation within the Mediterranican is steaming towards you, it is obviously you death.

Messages were flying back and forth, command centres from all across Greston had different opinions on the matter, the only obvious statement was that the enemy task force had to be wiped out. The deck crew of the St. Claire wanted to turn tale and run back to base with the other assembled fleet. The majority of the commanding crew wished to head up and engage the Empire's forces.

The suicidal mission was wary in Commodore Arthur Pourtsmin's mind. By no means did he wish to die, but he would rather die himself than have half of Greston massacred by enemy forces. As he pondered about the subject, the Military Command Centre of Cambridge relayed a message to the ship's secure lines.

"All ties are cut off, you are to engage incoming ships."

The message was hooked up to the loud speakers and rang across the deck. Every crew member's moral was lowered, why fight when you were bound to die.

3:17 PM, Isthmatian Canal
Isthmatia, Aschenhyrst

The numerous bombings rang out inside the tanks and on board the GMNS Shannon. The devious plan was being constructed and carried out perfectly. As B2s landed at the base, more were deployed to relieve them. The second dispatch of bombers were to direct their ordinace on the flak cannons, the destructive weapons which had brought down ten air craft all ready.

The four hundred tanks rolled onward, their main armamants aimed foward. The second lock on the Isthamatian Canal lay directly ahead of them, smoke streamed up from it as a small fire blazed from the earlier air raids. The hulking bodies of the tanks took their aim and let loose powerful rounds out of the giant smoothbore placed on their hull.

As the tanks started their onslaught more B2 bombers, accompanied by F-22 fighters, sped out of their base to continue the massacre. An attachment of F-22s were sent out to engage enemy fights surrounded allied bombers. As they flew towards them they locked onto the enemy and fired their rockets, they started to pull up to giving their chain gun a go at the air craft.

The engagement of fighters from both sides was appropiate enough to give the B2 Spirit bombers time to change their course and aim their payloads at the western entrance of the canal. They screamed foward to see the HRMS Revenge moored in the dock ready to aid it fleet. Moskit missiles from the GMNS Mediator and others were the perfect weaponry to be used on the enemy ships. The Moskit gave the target only twenty seconds to react, long enough to do nothing.

As volleys of Moskits descended upon the enemy fleet, a flaming batch of napalm, from the extremely small surviving group B2 bombers, descended upon the HRMS Revenge.

Aircrafts clipped by flak would make the most of their weapons and nose dive their plane into the nearest enemy installation if they couldn't get away.

The GMNS Royal Sovereign looked on in awe as the afternoon sky filled with smoke, fire, missiles, and flak. But gazing at the sky was not something they were supposed to do when there was incomign torpedoes. In seconds the ships systems were up, disrtactions were placed for the torpedoes. Two of the bombs hit the distractions but the other four side swiped the Soveriegn class battleship. The GMNS Shannon took the massive explosions as a morale booster and started filling the sky with AShM which would come down in a fiery rage upon the enemy surface ships.

There was no weaponry, besides the Mark 45 Surface Torpedoes, on board the fleet to hit the submarines, which put the fleet in danger. The almost useless Mark 45 torpedoes were put to use, but were most likely going to be for nothing.

All the while, as aircrafts dropped like flies and naval ships were bested, the 25,000 infantry were yet to be used. For miles ahead of them, all that could be seen was fire and destruction. For Lieutenant General Jefferson Aosmound, he was disappointed that he had not caused the carnage he beamed at.

But he was happy as he and his men charged the canal fortress and locks, guns blazing.

3:06 PM, GMNS David Loyd Gregor
Courbournian Strait, Mediterranica

Commodore David Mark Bassinger was lost in the endless ocean breeze. A ways bit off to the side of his massive Sovereign class battleship a school of bright orange fish were visible through the glistening, clear water of the Courbournian Strait. He took a good look at the perfectly hung sun, beautiful, sparkling water and mysterious school of fish and he took a mental picture. For in the hours to come, David Bassinger, Commodore of the GMNS David Loyd Gregor, would be witness to nothing but mindless carnage and the defense of his homeland by destroying another.

His was snapped awake from the happiness he imagined to the real ordeal he was faced with. The loud, echoeing engines of the F-22's roaring above drove his mind back to where it was. The F-22's flew in formations of threes and sped over the GMNS David Loyd Gregor as if the death of thousands was not soon to come.

The attack upon the Isthmatian Canal was known about by the enemy, the Grestonians were aware of it, but that attack was more than a raid upon a project with speding in the billions. The attack upon the canal was cover so that Task Force 3 could complete their dirty work, by throwing the Aschenhyrstians around in their colony, Courbournia.

Courbournia was a small chain of extremely small islands, perfect for a tourist attraction, but was not suitable for an excess in military installations. Which was why Task Force 3 would be able to get away with the attack while recieving minimum damage.

The task force was deployed from Britzkium, a territory given to Piccavia by the MU while it was friendly. Britzkium, once given in the sign of peace, was being used for war.

The group had quickly pushed off of its placing and was steaming, full speed, towards the colony. It would only be minutes, a drive by almost.

As they pulled closer, all the Commodore could see was massive explosions as the first B2 Spirit bombers reach the first island keys. The GMNS David Loyd Gregor pulled to side and started taking aim at military installations and massive tourist attractions alike. The MU couldn't tell the difference for the Grestonians, why should they.

Ports and air ports were bombed heavily, preventing possible resistance. Waiting with bated breath, Commodore David Mark Bassinger hoped that the resistance would be low.

OOC: More to come

Taskforce Isterus
Neuvan Sea, South-West Greston

Claxons resounded across the ships of the taskforce and a broadcast blared through intercom systems calling all crewmembers to prepare for battle. On the bridge of the Soulblighter Minaith entered though the rear door quickly, demanding an update on what all the fuss was about.

‘Status report?’

‘Grestonian ships coming up on us in Sector 4, Sir,’ answered a Lieutenant, indicating towards the red ships on the tactical display moving towards the Imperial fleet.

‘Thankyou Lieutenant, keep us on course, we must have no delays on our approach to Greston. Signal Admiral Levrin to take care of this problem.’

‘Consider it done, Sir.’

While the bulk of the fleet powered on through the Neuvan Sea, a single battlegroup under the command of Admiral Arisâ Levrin arced away from the fleet to intercept the incoming enemy. The Admiral and her ship the Iorlass had been at the forefront of the fighting against The Kraven Corporation during the Kraven Wars and she had attained her promotion to Admiral after her exemplary work in taking over the command of the battlegroup when her predecessor had been killed. Arisâ had proven to be cunning, decisive and efficient during the remainder of the fighting and her ship had seen to the obliteration or sinking no less than a dozen Kraven ships even in a damaged state.

Heading full speed towards their opponent it would not take long to come within range and already the forward missiles banks were prepared to fire. Arisâ stood motionless before the bridge window looking out towards Greston. She couldn’t see it or the ships coming towards her, but she could still kill them, that was the miracle of the modern world and with a single calm word, the foredeck of the vessel was engulfed in smoke and long-range Dragon Lance surface to surface missiles shot out toward the distant horizon.

Hundreds of sailors were shredded to pieces by the constant artillery barrage as they attempted to flee up the beach. Those burdened with heavy equipment or the ammunition so vital for the advance stood little chance and those who did not fall to the constant peppering of cannon fire dropped their loads and stumbled blindly up the beech.

Vice Admiral Thousis only survived by taking cover behind the wreck of a transport craft, and huddling down until a majority of the sailors had past then sprinting up the beach in the other direction. This usually worked as the enemy was vastly in favor of, one shooting the largest group of enemies, and two did not shoot the lone runner in the hope that someday the favor would be returned.

As Thousis vaulted up onto a boardwalk, slippery with blood and the occasional body his destroyer, and his flag for the last three hours exploded outwards as a shell must have hit the magazine. Armor plating once thought so efficient scythed down dozens of runners, and fuel oil made sticky with sand and metal shards added a new fear to the battle. One after another with the great wails of metal under pressure the warships screamed their death cries. In plums of smoke and debris one after another each of the ships and her remaining crew were ended.

The parties sent to high locations to buy some time for the destroyers were equally annihilated. In the remaining cranes of the dockyard a three man team climbed with monkey like grace towards a small observation platform. Before a shell even had time to connect with the tower a Leistungi sniper from the city, it was assumed by those who survived, clipped one of the members, who just hand having loaded his RPG and began to press the trigger. In a sense of dull certainty Thousis watched as the man fell and his rocket curved through the air, and with a karmic smack stuck on the observation platform killing the other two outright, and causing a certain grinding of metal which boded nothing good. This situation was only made worse as a Leistungi ship, seconds off in it’s timing fired a shell into the tower which shocked it off it’s struts and sent it thundering to the ground blocking off nearly three hundred survivors on the beach from reaching land.

Harbor Road

“Runner!” Two Waldenburgers were pressed against what used to be dining table feeding thousands of shells into a heavy machine gun, which commanded an entire side alley. Several times the Leistungi had tried to push through the area, and they had been driven back each time by a hail of fire from the second floor. “More ammo!” Their ears were ringing, several men had chosen the room next door, which lacked most of the roof, to set up a twenty millimeter Vulcan cannon, and combined with their own thundering had made the house almost vibrate.

Instead of the usual pasty faced corporal who dashed back and forth to the company ammo dump a captain, a naval captain, stepped into the room and pressed into their hands a rifle, two bayonets and a stick of chewing gum. “Our brave last stand. Some complete ass out in the harbor has a five-incher pointed right at us. Ammo dump is gone, and no more is coming the supplies on the Anaxious are gone and there are worse places than here!” The captain bellowed and waved dramatically. “Don’t look do glum, the lads next door only get the gum. Don’t chew too fast, and save a bullet!”

All across the lines it was the same thing. Due to the nature of the expedition it was considered unwise for the ammunition to be stored in one location, and though it had not been wise to load it equally out amongst the transports it had made sense on paper. Search parties were even now making foyers onto the beach, which was in itself a beach sentence, to pick through the now burning or abandoned hulks for even a carton of shells.

And one lucky shot from the Leistungi artillery could render and entire company useless. And then there was the issue of the armored vehicles; most Waldenburger rocket companies were being sent to the warehouses of the shipyards to keep the enemy at sea and avoid a flanking attack. So far the only strategy that seemed to work was handing a squad a few poles and a handful of AP land mines and staging a charge, or dropping explosives from windows believed abandoned windows. Either way, successful or not, no unit staged a second attack and the engineering brigade attached to the division was beginning to dwindle.

On the main road, where the largest Leistungi advance was trundling, and entire regiment or what remained of it scattered amongst the wreckage in the street threw down its weapons. All had run out of ammo about ten minutes ago, but had continued to give a brave fight by pushing their rifles over their barricades and hoping the enemy would take cover. Nearly six hundred men slowly emerged, prompted by their comrades throwing down their weapons, and walked with their hands above their heads towards a very menacing armored vehicle.

Officers screamed at their regiment to get back to their barricades and made to shoot their surrendering comrades before recalling they too had run out of ammunition. There however was one last throw of the dice. Tarps were thrown back at the regimental command post and who few remained wheeled out Waldenburg’s favorite option, the Lüftenshaker. Used to effect in many aerial battles the rockets were easy to prepare and were stuffed with shrapnel and in this case phosphorus as well. Each regiment had been issued one set of the tubes.

Hands covering ears and backs turned the tubes were set down and cautiously armed. The appropriate switches flipped. The rockets, which made a high pitched whining sound upon ignition shrieked down the street and slammed into buildings, wreckage and in some cases men. Then there was a dull thump and if aimed correctly a series of screaming. In many ways the rocket launch signaled the end of the battle, across the city, started by the first shrieks dozens more began to scream away, as news spread of surrender. Entire regiments were now standing up from their hiding places, throwing down their weapons and climbing out. Of course not all units would take the hint and God knew what one man with a rifle could do from an elevation but it seemed resistance seemed to die block by block, street by street once the rockets went silent.
--

With grime on his face, and his dress uniform in rags around him, Vice Admiral Thousis stepped over book shelf and loomed over a Leistungi militia man who choked as seeing the man materialize out of the wreckage which now so matched his clothing. "Vice Admiral Thousis, Imperial Navy Thirty Second Fleet Group, I wish to formally surrender myself and my command, to the commanding officer, if I may." On swaying feet he held out his saber which was missing a considerable amount of braid and polish.

Harbor Mouth

Able Seamen Connoly relaxed in the small rigid boat, the craft had been strafed twice already and it was either relax or be noticed. What once had been a sizeable contingent of sailors was being slowly cut down as frigates repeatedly backed over the swimming masses. In his hands to cooking grenades were held off of detonation by shaking hands. There had at once point been six men in this boat, which had at once point been more like a boat than a pile of rubber kept buoyant by force of habit.

On his chest lay a brick of C4 should the grenades go off, he wished for a quick death rather than the drawn out affairs of his raft mates, which had at long last finally slipped into the ocean. However with a dull certainty he heard the sounds of water being sliced to pieces by huge rudders become more apparent, and slowly he felt himself being dragged in by return. His hands slide of the grenades.

His last image was of two sea hawk helicopters dashing over head and what looked liked a wire guided depth charge falling from an open hatch. His last memory of the world was a cheer rising from the city which gun through even the gunfire. Around him he felt the concussions in the water which be believed to mean that the Waldenburger cruisers had finally come in range. Then nothing.


OOC Assume the battle over, however of course there will be some clean up with the occasional unit that hasn't heard the news or does not wish to. Nothing left for me to Rp really. You may want to keep Thousis alive too, he's the Cenobiarch's cousin of course.

Isthmatian Operations Theatre

Eastern Front

Aboard the HRMS Hibernia

"Captain, we`re going to lose her."
Damn, how long?"
"Ten... Fifteen minutes tops. We`re taking water faster than the pumps can keep up and the reactor is reaching overload."
"Helm, plot a course into the Grestonian fleet. Target the largest warship and prpare to ram her, full speed ahead. Hopefully when the reactor goes, we`ll be in the middle of their fleet and take several of their ships with us."

Eastern Coast

Ground forces prepared for the next aerial attack and futhered preparations for a amphibious assault.

Western Front

The seas were filled with flotsam and the shores littered with jetsam from the heavy naval and aerial engagements that had been taking place of the western coast of Isthmatia. A enemy Armored Spearhead has observed driving toward lock #2 of the canal, 15km inland. A-10 Warthogs and Apache Longbow Helocopters provided the first line of defense against the armored push. As sortie after sortie against enemy was flown, Hellfire missiles and Vulcan cannons rined death from the skies. Near the lock`s defenses, 105 mm howitzers fired thermite-tipped Sabot penetrator rounds towards the advancing armor. A direct hit was certain death for the tank crew, once the Sabot penetrated the armor, the thermite would ignite. Engulfing the armored hulks in seconds. Two armored columns of M1-A1 Abrahms tanks were flanking the advancing enemy armor in a pincer movement, ready to engage the survivors of the assault.

A F/22 returning for resupply had observed a large concentration of enemy infantry, 10 km behind the armored force. AC-130 Spectre gunships and UH-60 'Blackhawks' were scrambled to engage this potential threat and netralize it quickly. The aircraft rained death from the skies with their 20mm chain guns, 7.62mm mini-guns and Vulcan cannons. three Blackhawks were downed by well-placed ground fire and one Spectre broke from the engagement due to damage near the tail section.

Night appeared to fall early in western Isthmatia, due to volumes of acrid smoke rising from the burning armor and their fuel tanks.

Northern Front (Britzkium/Isthmatia border region)

Now that the Grestonian`s were launching attacks from this former Piccavian colony (*that had changed hands secretly), the time had come to neutralize this forward base in the center of Mediterranica. 300 F/117 fighters raced across the border attacking command and control structures, enemy troop concentrations and 'targets of opportunity' throughout the colony. Hundreds of land-based cuise missiles were launched towards targets deep in Britzkium and thousands of short-range missiles pounded the land up to 30km deep across the frontier along the rugged border region. Three Divisions of Aschenhyrst Marines poured into the narrow (100km wide) border region to bolster defenses of the few natural routes through this region.

OOC: *I was unaware that Britzkium had 'legally' changed to your hands. I`m having trouble trying to think of actions on the eastern front, hence my rather short postings on that side. Still winding down the holiday rush at work, participation may get better later this week. Also of note, HRMS Revenge is on the east coast, HRMS Prince Robert is in the west. Noticed you`d placed them wrong in the battle description.

OOC: No Picc has been allowing me to do operations out of it, you just attaked a neutral nation in this.

OOC: Read your post. It says Britzkium was given to you. Thats how I based my actions.

OOC: No, it says Britzkium was given to Picc by the MU. And if it had been given to me, it would be SICly and you couldn't base an attack on it, because you wouldn't know about it!

We need an OOC thread for this.

OOC thread here. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=13980364#post13980364)

2:28 PM, Harbor Road
Hafenstadt, Leistung

The sight was not a pretty one in the streets of Hafenstadt as men were blasted apart by the force of the rockets bearing down on them. Shrapnel shot out at all sides, and men could only put their heads behind something hard and pray that they wouldn’t lose it in the process. As the barrage began to die down, men again poked their heads out and raised their weapons, expecting a new volley of gunfire to follow—what they saw instead was much different. The men who had seemed so mighty only a few seconds ago threw down their weapons and walked out of their cover, hands held behind their heads in a signal of surrender.

Hans Blau’s head cocked slightly to the side, and his mouth fell open a few centimeters as disbelief spread over the front lines. The disbelief soon turned into suspicion however, and the men cautiously stood up, weapons raised and advanced slowly in a line towards the masses of men approaching with their arms up. The city had suddenly become quiet enough to hear a man’s breath as the tank crews poked their heads out of the top hatch, gripping the turret-mounted machine guns tightly.

Hans looked to his left, at the destroyed and smoking wreck of a building which had only minutes ago held teams of Waldenburger troops, their machine guns wiping out more than half of his fire team. He peered into the black smoke, noticing a flash of flesh somewhere inside. His heart skipped a beat. “Movement left!” he yelled, raising his rifle and aiming at no particular point in the building.

Suddenly a man in what appeared to be a uniform made of dirt and starting yammering something in a very fast but clear tone. He held out a sword which at this point looked more like a broomstick, and Hans shouldered his rifle and took it slowly from him, motioning for the radioman to come over.

“David, this man claims to be some sort of admiral,” he whispered, just loud enough so that the private would hear, but the admiral wouldn’t. “I see no reason for him to lie anyways. Call mobile HQ and inform them that the enemy has surrendered. We have a high-ranking officer down here.”

One hour later

Großadmiral Beckenbauer walked briskly down the narrow streets, glancing left and right every once and a while to see lines of foreign marines being marched down the streets by men and boys in ragtag uniforms, looks of absolute jubilation on their faces. The shadows receded as he came upon the city center, a massive cobblestone square adorned with statues around the perimeter. At his point, most of the statuettes had limbs blown off or were missing altogether and the cobblestones had been pressed far into the ground and shattered by the weight of the tank treads. A mass of Waldenburger marines sat in one of the corners, four tanks surrounding them and one man in a dirty dress uniform standing alone near the center of the square, adjacent to the statue of General Schaeffer which had miraculously avoided damage. He walked over to the man, flanked by two infantrymen rather than militia soldiers.

Beckenbauer straightened his peacoat and wiped some of the grime off of his Victory Cross, interlocking his fingers and placing his hands behind his back in an authoritarian gesture.

“Welcome to Leistung, admiral,” he sneered. “Take it in now, because the view isn’t so nice from the inside of a prison cell.” He jerked his head towards the two men and they grabbed the foreigner's arms, dragging the man away to the lines of Waldenburgers forming on the fringes of the square.

Beckenbauer climbed up on the statue base, taking a megaphone from one of the medics deployed to the scene.

“Attention soldiers of Leistung,” he started. The men in the square turned their heads to face him, including some of the Waldenburgers. “This is Großadmiral Beckenbauer speaking. This morning, our trust was betrayed in a way previously unseen in our nation’s history. What could have been a massacre, however, was turned into a great victory by the strength and resolve of our soldiers and volunteers, and for your determination, I thank you and the people of Leistung thank you. We are forever in your debt. The city is ours, gentlemen.”

A loud cheer went up through the square and the streets around it while the Waldenburgers faces turned a shade somewhere between white and green. He stepped off the statue base and walked over to a man in officer’s uniform.

“What’s the situation here, Lieutenant?” he asked. The man rubbed his eyes as if he was trying to rub off the woes of battle.

“The city is far from secure, unfortunately, but the situation will resolve itself. There are very few enemies left with ammunition and those with it will use it up sooner than later,” he responded. “The remaining Waldenburgers still alive in the harbor have been picked up by our soldiers and are on their way here now.”

“And what was that bang I heard earlier?” Beckenbauer cut in. The man hesitated for a moment before responding.

“It appears that one of the Waldenburgers strapped a block of C4 to himself and detonated on one of our destroyer’s rudders. The ship will have to be taken out of commission for now, and it sets a dangerous precedent.”

“Agreed. Separate the officers and enlisted men. If anyone resists, shoot them,” he said simply. “When the LION-MU war comes to a close their fates will be decided, but until then they are officially prisoners of war and will be treated as such.”

BMS Resolve
Hafenstadt Harbor, Leistung

“Sir, the Gonaves is completely disabled and taking on water. It appears to have been caused by a suicide bomber and not by enemy action, though,” the officer said, looking down at a clipboard and droning in a flat monotone. “Enemy rear guard elements appear to have ceased fire, or are trying to close the distance; it’s unclear from our radar.”

The captain frowned. “Alright. The Seahawk incident was unfortunate, and I don’t want any more needless deaths today. Send out a message to the enemy fleet, Morse code.

Attention Waldenburger fleet [stop]

Your ground forces have surrendered [stop]

The battle is lost [stop]

Surrender immediately and proceed to a position 10km
from the harbor mouth [stop]

Crews should be on-deck and unarmed [stop]

[full stop]

OOC Sorry about quality and time it took to get it up but, bad days yea know?

Easen

There was little opportunity for escape, as came the watchers came the authorities and the Waldenburger clergy were soon caught between two barricades of heavily armed men who did not seem to pleased. There was little aplomb in the raising of their weapons and after their leader shouted his condemnation there was little hesitation from the men to raise their assault rifles and open fire spraying the street with bullets. There was little the Waldenburgers could forestall their fate other than fire a few perfunctorily shots forward and behind. Thirty robes were stained red as, true to their word, the Grestonians sought their revenge.

One robe, already red was spared the bullets, as he shoved a lesser deacon in front of him and used the body as a shield to dive to a side ally before throwing the limp carcass away and sprinting the remainder of the ally. It would only be the work of a few minutes to scatter his clothing and find a new set, panic was everywhere and liberating even a cheap suit shouldn’t be too difficult. Hopefully the SPDO had not begun to strike the smaller churches and chapels looking for dissenters. In the mean time the cardinal would simply disappear.

Even as his feet carried him away from the carnage of his former See he could hear the pounding of anti aircraft guns, and as he turned a corner the first Waldenburger flight, strung together in an lazy vanguard to lessen the effect of AA attempts. The wings were staggered one above the other, the first wing from the Implacable had abandoned caution it seemed as was flying barely two hundred feet above roof level amongst the suburbs. Guns at further range would risk firing into the city itself, and guns below would have less time to track in general, however at that height it seemed impractical that the fighters should fly so low, any bombings would be directly under them or their companions and highly centralized. And considering the primary armament, a slightly modified 1000 lb CBU-55 incendiary, it was a wonder any pilot would dare it.

Dozens of fighters, mostly from the upper echelons began falling from the skies, when they were able they primed their ordinance in their descents and exploded up in a plume of flame. It was theorized that should every CBU in the air armada be placed perfectly it had the potential yield to completely obliterate 6.56 square miles of city, without even taking into consideration the resulting fires. As an entire squadron was wiped out by a primed bomb firing too quickly, the Waldenburgers approached Easen proper and the more prosperous looking suburbs they left their cannons to spool and those with rocket pods simply opened them up and allowed them free range.

When the Waldenburger began dropping their loads there were only 164 bombers remaining, however it was hoped it would be enough to push the view of Waldenburg’s displeasure. Any aircraft in the air were simply ignored, every bullet, every rocket, and then with a planned precision every bomb falling in graceful time was aimed for the city. Those without a pressing desire or indeed ability to return home drove on past the civilian areas, and sought out the cloud of smog, which hinted at factories bustling to life. Sky scrappers were favorite targets for those with missiles, and had received some training back in the empire on how to fell them, aim low, fell tall as the saying went.
--

Various fleets across the theater were suffering considerably, outside of Westminister two battlecruisers had been holed by precision bombings from B-2’s overhead, and it seemed hardly a minute went by when there was not some sort of casualty. Three destroyers had also been struck with anti shipping missiles and now floundered without a bridge or indeed most of the external superstructure.

At approximately 2:29, after just under half an hour of bombardment, approximately thirty percent casualties were reported amongst the combined fleets, most of the damage being caused in the Westminster Strait. Admiralty orders arrived ordering fighting retreat to the north, all guns in the three southern battle groups were to refocus fire on enemy naval vessels and pull north to link up with the Fifth Fleet Group to join the third Waldenburger fleet group for a second, as yet unformalized offensive.

Isthmatian Theatre of Operations
Aschenhyrst Colonial Defense HQ; Niewpoort, Isthmatia

General Longstreet was in his command center, going through the daily reports of troop movements and enemy concentrations when his aide, Lieutenant Falstrom, burst in.

"General, this just came in on the secure comm. I`ve verified the encryption sequence. It is authentic."

"Hand it over, Abigail"

Longstreet read the message from Aschenhyrst High Command

To: General James Longstreet; Commander,Aschenhyrst Dominion Forces-Isthmatian Theatre of Operations

From:Aschenhyrst High Command

Subject: Peace Negociations
LION has entered into peace negociations with the MU/Hegemony alliance. All MU forces are to immediately CEASE offensive actions against LION forces. MU operations are to be defensive in nature until further notice. All MU forces are to pull back to MU territory and await further instruction. This orders are to be carried out immediately.

Field Marshal Sir James Aschenhyrst de Aschenhyrst, Supreme Commander-Aschenhyrst Dominion Armed Forces

"Abigail, notify all division commanders of this order and have them pass it on to their subordinates. All units are to stand down unless fired upon. Maybe this mess will be over soon."

"Right away, General.