The Ukranian Crisis [Rostil Only, MT]

[Eslovakia]

Ekaterinberg House
President Seo Hye Rim

To The Governments of Ukraine and The People

The government of Eslovakia in time has watched the people suffer under civil strife over the years. With nuclear a nuclear problem at Pripyat and a divided people, the Eslovakian people and it's leaders proposed to offer a helping hand to the struggling people of Ukraine and restore order once again to its people and hand control back to a one unified nation under one banner.

Under the advise of my administration and people, we have offered to send troops alongside substantial aid that will aid Ukrainian financial, economical and people development in order to help it become a competitive economic state once again and allow the people to achieve a greater standard of living.

We invite leaders of various factions within Ukraine to come to Eslovakia to discuss the various issues and problems around Ukraine in order to come to a conclusion to solve the current crisis the people of Ukraine face.

The people of Eslovakia eagerly await your response.

President of Eslovakia
Seo Hye Rim

---

"Well that's sorted" said the President as she handed the letter to the foreign minister. "Have them get that on a radio broadcast as I understand that it will be difficult to reach everyone. Try television broadcast too if possible."

"Yes ma'am" he replied as he took the letter and left the office.

"I want an expeditionary force and diplomats to arrange for travels to Ukraine is feasible to speak to the leaders and heads of the city states. Outline our plans and make it clear of the win-win situation." said the President

"Will do, until then, I advise that we wait for a strong confirmed response from the Ukrainians" replied Sten Tolgfors, Defence Minister.

"Indeed, if they refuse, discreetly establish and FOB there and get the Northern Valhalla fleet to provide logistical supplies for it. We need Ukraine on our side. I can't stress this enough." said the President.

"Yes ma'am, I'll be on my way then" replied Sten as he smiled and walked out.

[-the Ukrainian SSR-]

The City-State of Kyivan Rus
Central Ukraine

Dmitri Yaroslav-Métisse, Czar of the Ukraine and barer of numerous other titles stared dubiously at the letter in his hands, the photostatic copy of an official missive from the Republic of Eslovakia had arrived in the morning, Kyivan Rus, thanks to his efforts was one of the few city-states in the Ukraine with such modern abilities; so he didn't have to listen through a wheezing radio as others had to do. "What do you think?" The Czar lifted his eyes from the letter to look at the origin of the words, Annette Métisse, the Empress of the Ukraine was a beautiful, if not powerful woman in her own right, with the connections in Beusuandille, and even Russo-Spain; that had made Dmitri's 'return to power' if one may dare, even possible; there was no doubt in many people's mind who the real governor of Kyivan Rus was, in the end.

The refined lady rose an eloquent brow before she stood; the ruffles and endless waves of fine silk from the Beusuandillian dress folding and creasing endlessly, slippered feet crossing the distance to her husband before she set a single gloved hand on the letter and took it from him gently. A few stark moments of silence passed, the woman's eyes locked on the page, face completely and utterly relaxed to creepy levels before she finally laughed a little and handed it back to Dmitri.

"They are republicans, that is propaganda. They don't want what is best for us or Ukraine. They've only their own interests at heart, and wish to use those of us left standing to gain them."

"So, our response?" The Czar asked uneasily, the Empress smiled, it wasn't a nice smile, either.

"We refuse, of course."

---

The Socialist Republic of Pripyat
Northern Ukraine - Russo-Ukrainian Border

Vasyl Wolanski coughed heavily; his knees buckling as he did so requiring him to lean heavily on the sturdy wooden desk in front of him. It was nothing short of a miracle that Wolanski was alive, and through even further miracle he was walking, talking, able to do anything besides pool in his own blood as he choked on radiation poisoning. He was one of the adherent few who'd stayed behind in the city when Mu and Russian teams carved the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant into oblivion, to save his city less out of kindness and more out of a desire to make sure nothing happened to their own people; he'd convinced himself. By all means at that exact moment he should've been ridden with cancerous cells, and absolutely horrific levels of radiation poisoning, yet he was indeed alive.

The blood droplets in his saliva were a sign not all was well with his health, but he thanked God Almighty; who he was now very sure existed, that he was as he was and not worse. Like the Czar, Wolanski had heard the Eslovakian offer, through the battered speakers of an ancient radio most likely made before the aforementioned royal was even born. Unlike the royals, the Premier of Pripyat looked at the Eslovakian offer as a godsend, to bring peace, order and security back to his beloved homeland he saw as nothing short as yet another miracle; they just seemed to be coming to him these days.

"S-send word to the Eslovakians that I will attend myself." Wolanski croaked, his voice weak at that moment into an intercom that lead outside of his humble office to a secretary's desk.

---

The Most Serene Republic of Odessa
Western Ukraine - Seventy Miles from the Birkanian-Ukrainian Border

The Republic of Odessa was one of the most successful city-states within Ukraine, a port-city it managed marginal trade and even managed to maintain a naval force of sorts, all while providing a safe, stable environment for the citizens within the city. Basic services existed, and there was an actual quality to life that didn't exist out there in the plains between the cities; and even the other cities varied in such standards. Odessa was ruled by a federalist democracy, and ideologically it was the closest to Eslovakia's Republic. The President here was an older man; balding and somewhat fat it was obvious he didn't hurt for anything. When he received the notice; he quickly had his foreign relations minister pen a reply; like Wolanski, the President saw this as a moment to use to his advantage, though for far different, and far less noble, gains.

---

The Dictatorship of Minsk
Southern Ukraine - One hundred twenty miles from Xin Han

There was a stark difference between each of the cities; it was evident here. Factories, the few that remained churned thick choking ash into the skies around the once proud city as workers toiled in them unto death. The iron fisted despot here ruled with an iron fist and staunch military force; there was no compassion, no semblance of mercy or humanity from the enforcers of his will. 'Communist' in name only, they were what remained of the insane government before the Fall, before the Anarchy. When Eslovakia's message came to ears of power there they feared; paranoia gripped already paranoid minds, and they looked outwards with their small army with held breath. All the while, propaganda towers blasted patriotism into the minds of those who were soaked in oppression and fear.

---

Simferopol Air Force Base - Central Ukraine

It was at one time an installation belonging to the United Federation to the far south. The Ameriqans abandoned it in time; leaving nothing behind but the runways and the buildings that were bolted down. The ensuing chaos it would seem was too much, even for their advanced technology and elite army. Now days it served a different master. In between the city-states there was nothing, there was anarchy and anarchy alone. It was a bastion of civilization surrounded on all sides by enemies. Kalash Gangs similar to what was found in Abruzi; former Red Army who'd betrayed the oaths they once swore, this was life between the cities; you were the victim or the victimizer.

The master of the Air Force Base aimed to change that, from behind his impromptu walls, electrified fences and machine gun emplacements he thought, and he plotted. The men under him were soldiers who'd not forsaken their fellows, who remained faithful to the idea that they were supposed to be protecting the people out there, and they did. Under carefully guided and planned orders they ambushed, burned, looted and destroyed the gangs and anarchists that made hell for those who did not have the 'pleasure' of living in one of the city-states. Under General Valshannar, the only warlord in Ukraine with a heart; those few defenders who remained; growing fewer by the day; one miserable skirmish after another tried to change their tiny world; to slowly, but surely, raise it back to what it was, something better.

---

Diplomatic Missive of the Kingdom of Kyivan-Rus

To: The Republic of Eslovakia - President Seo Hye Rim
From: Dmitri Yaroslav-Métisse - Czar of the Ukraine

The legitimate government of the Ukraine thanks the people and government of Eslovakia for their concern regarding an ongoing civil matter within our borders. At this time due to ongoing issues we must decline your generous offer, and we humbly request that you stay out of our affairs.

Sincerely and in good faith,
Dmitri Yaroslav-Métisse

Communication of the Socialist Republic of Pripyat

Concerning: The Republic of Eslovakia - President Seo Hye Rim
From: Vasyl Wolanski - Premier of Pripyat

Greetings! Greetings to you Madame President! I heartily accept your invitation and will be making my way to Eslovakia as soon as opportunity presents itself, I apologise for the inability to provide you with an accurate estimate of my arrival; but as you know, Ukraine is not precisely in the best of shape at this time. I look forward to speaking with you at great length in person.

Sincerely,
Vasyl Wolanski

---

Diplomatic Notice of the Most Serene Republic of Odessa

To: President Seo Hye Rim of Eslovakia
From: President Pylyp Gavrilyuk of Odessa

Regrettably, agree as I may with your desire to see an end to the ongoing state of affairs within Ukraine, I cannot at the moment join your person in Ekaterberg; for this I duely apologise. Know that the Republic of Odessa ideologically agrees; however.

Sincerely,
Pylyp Gavrilyuk - President

---

[Eslovakia]

"Ma'am, we've had a rather quick response from all major factions via official diplomatic communiques" said the Foreign Minister as he stormed into the Presidential Office

"What? It's only been an hour!" chuckled President Seo Hye Rim to herself, "Alright, whats the situation then?"

"Well the Republic of Odessa and Socialist Republic of Pripyat accepted the assistance. However, only Premier Wolanski wished to personally attend the meeting in person in Ekaterinberg."
replied the Foreign Minister. "Here's Homeland Intelligence's report on Wolanski and the current situation in Pripyat."

President Seo Hye Rim read up on reports of the turmoil and nuclear radiation problems that encircled Pripyat as well as Premier Wolanski's poor health. The President put on her reading glasses and read the very detailed report carefully whilst the Foreign Minister quietly stepped out the office. Seo Hye Rim saw the devastating number of deaths and problems that the city faced. Monstrous images were included in the report of bodies as well as an image of the Premier.

Slowly removing her glasses, a small tear droplet rolled down her cheek as she closed the report and laid it on her desk. She quickly reached for the intercom and summoned the Foreign Minister once again.

The Foreign Minister creped into the office noticing the President wiping her tear with a soft handkerchief but he decided it was best to act like he hadn't notice.

"You called, ma'am" said the foreign minster

"Ah yes, send out word to the Socialist Republic of Pripyat that there will be a flight to get him to Eslovakia whenever he's ready, Also, tell him he may stay in Eslovakia for while to receive radiation treatment in Fyrkanter if he so wishes." said the President. "Reply to the other states as well"

"Yes ma'am" replied the Foreign Minister "Anything else?"

"The Kingdom city state most likely fear us from spreading any influence around Ukraine, could threaten their position if we successfully bring stability to some parts in Ukraine. said the President." said the President. "I want the humanitarian aid mission to be under the Democratic League banner, contact the Euro-Asian Government as well as San Cristobel to get their representatives here. I want to hold a DL meeting."

"Yes, ma'am" replied the foreign minister.

---

Eslovakias Utrikesdepartementet - Eslovakian Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Utrikesminister Karl Hjörtsberg- Foreign Minister Karl Hjörtsberg

To Dmitri Yaroslav-Métisse - Czar of the Ukraine

We thank you for taking your time in considering our offer and are deeply disappointed to learn that you decline our humanitarian assistance but will respect the decision of the city state Kyivan-Rus. As of such we will turn to others in Ukraine who are in dire need of foreign assistance to help get the country up and running again. We must kindly reject your demand to stay out of Ukrainian affairs, we refuse to turn a blind eye to people who are in need of help around Ukraine.

Minister of Foreign Affairs
Karl Hjörtsberg

---

Ekaterinberg House
President Seo Hye Rim

To Vasyl Wolanski - Premier of Pripyat

I am delighted to to hear that you accepted our governments proposal for assistance from us and will prepare an aircraft for you whenever you are ready to discuss matters regarding Ukraine. There are many things I look forward to discussing with you. Our Homeland Intelligence reports suggest that you are currently suffering from radiation poisoning in Pripyat. We have thought as a gesture of goodwill to allow you to use our radiation treatment hospital in Fyrkanter to receive extensive radiation treatment if you so wish to chose so.

I personally look forward to meeting you in person to discuss urgent matters as well as other Democratic League representative I am sure.

President of Eslovakia
Seo Hye Rim

---

Ekaterinberg House
President Seo Hye Rim

To President Pylyp Gavrilyuk of Odessa

We are pleased to hear that you in favour of Eslovakias current plans and respect the fact that you will not be able to attend in person to the meeting planned. However, Vasyl Wolanski, Premier of Pripyat has promised to attend the meeting in Eslovakia, we will be more than happy to supply you with a copy of the notes and video on the meeting so that you may point out your views and comments as well as receive up to date information.

We look forward to meeting you at some point.

President of Eslovakia
Seo Hye Rim

[-the Ukrainian SSR-]

The City-State of Kyivan-Rus

Dmitri allowed the letter's correspondence to fall to the floor with out effort. There was no seething rage, no boiling over anger; there was simply silence. Equally silence, Annette quietly thought in her own little corner of the room, the plush surroundings denoting the well-offness of the city-state indeed. "Well." Annette finally spoke; her voice was lovely but it had that sort of tint to it that you just knew she thought she was superior. "That went about as well as we could have expected. Republicans and their pesudo-knightly nonsense." Dmitri physically shuddered at the word 'knightly', though he hadn't been in the country at the time, the extent of evil on the television, in the newspapers, that was enough to insert that fear that now existed in most of if not all of the survivors of the War.

"What do we do?" His words were stronger this time, not so meek; though he had a tone that he was obviously shaken at the moment. Annette gave him a cross sort of look, as though visually scalding him for not taking the initiative. "For the immediate moment, we do nothing. There's no way to dissuade them from their self-righteous ways, and no way to stop them; so we wait."

---

Simferopol Air Force Base

"Jesus Christ, just how old is this thing?" The Corporal muttered as the radio was trucked into one of the many hangars of the base, this was an impromptu workshop of sort. "Old, Corporal, very old." The man who responded was a man who looked haggered and aged beyond his true years, brown hair was heavily flecked with gray lines and his face was worn with worry and concern, despite this look, the Corporal immediately snapped a stiff, proper salute to the man; he was of obvious importance. "Can you get it to work again, soldier? We may need it in the coming days." The old looking man asked, rather than ordered.

The Corporal took a look at the thing, it was old to be sure; a model that looked like it would be out of service even with Russo-Spain. "Sir, I'll be completely honest, if this thing isn't hot already; there's little chance I could get it to run again." The layout was simple, it wasn't very large by comparison to others, knobs and analog controls covered the face, a dull brown casing was all around it.

"Best to try it, eh?" The Corporal said simplistically before he examined it more closely, the lettering was faded terribly but was just legible; carefully, as though it would break were he too harsh he turned a dial, static flicked through the assembly and the ancient telephone like attachment barked to life with white noise. "I'll be damned..." The young man was obviously surprised.

"Well." The old looking man examined it more carefully; the old R-102 radio unit was an ancient piece of work; but it was good it was serviceable; he had to admit it was hardly something he expected to find in an Ameriqan base, but he supposed the bastards didn't want anything of real value to fall into enemy hands. "Store this carefully; and guard it with your life, there are no spare components with which to repair it, and I don't feel like losing patrols in order to retrieve replacement parts."

"Yessir, right away." With that, the Corporal delicately took the thing away, brushing a bit of dust from it as he did so.

---

Ekaterinberg - Eslovakia

Three and a half hours of air-travel had not suited Vasyl Wolanski very well. The transport that Eslovakia had denoted to his use had arrived unhindered, through some amazement, and left equally unmolested with his person onboard the flight. Even when healthy Wolanski never liked flying; a practical man he figured that if you could get there by land or by sea, that was damn well good enough for him. He'd spent most of the trip throwing up. Now, as the small jet-liner came in for it's final landing, he couldn't help but manage to hold in what was left of his intestines, simply out of sheer awe.

The capitol of Eslovakia sprawled beneath the plane as it descended, becoming larger and larger as they got closer to the ground. A sparkling white and silver and brown Utopian visage if ever there was one. He had to admit, even before the War, no city in Ukraine could even compare to the city below him. When it had finally landed, of course there was the reality of the ground to the vision of the sky. The terminal was crowded and noisy, even with the ongoing turmoil in the western part of the world; people here didn't care about that sort of thing, or if they did they didn't let it get in the way of their daily lives.

Wolanski didn't have the chance to get lost, however; a man in a clean cut suit introduced himself as a representative of the President, and he was indeed there to escort the premier to her offices. Leading the way out of the airport into a non-descript car, the journey was a silent one, the streets of the capitol around them simply amazing the Premier; while his escort chuckled, albeit to himself at the fact the other man was wondered.

As their trip wasn't methodical; the car stopped in short order later in front of the Eslovakian Presidential place of office. at which point Wolanski got out and was led inside. He didn't take much notice of the building as he was led through it's corridors to a door, there was a knock, an exchange of words and then he was led inside. Even in his old age, Wolanski had to stop and blink when he was inside; Seo Hye Rim, President of Eslovakia was not what he expected in the least; he knew she was a woman, certainly; but...Anyways, slowly dying or not he was a professional and he didn't drool on the carpet. "It's an honor to meet you Madame President." Wolanski offered a simple handshake, which was reciprocated.

"You as well, Premier Wolanski, there's much we've to discuss." Eslovakia's President responded coolly...

[Eslovakia]

President Seo Hye Rim lead Premier Wolanski into her office instructing her advisors and ministers to wait outside until called. The office was with and elegant with the presidential flag behind the behind her desk. The seal of the state was nicely engraved onto the office's floor. "Tea? Coffee?" asked the president as she took of her and placed it behind her chair creating an informal atmosphere surprising the Premier which made him more comfortable asking "I'll take tea with 2 sugars if you insist" with a friendly smile. A table with a coffee machine accompanied with small snacks on the side isn't exactly what the Premier had in mind when he of the Presidential office.

"Take a seat and relax, my office is one of the few private areas where I can step away from the outside world and be less formal with others" said the President handing the Premier his tea.

"This is very kind of you Madame President." replied the Premier slowly sipping his tea.

"Just call me Seo" said the President with a smile. "I prefer the informalities when not around the press and a few of the ministers"

"Very well, Seo" replied the Premier. "Let us begin he important discussions regarding Ukraine"

"Indeed, I have summoned the Democratic League members to join the discussions regarding Ukraine later on this week. We understand Ukraine is in a very difficult situation and that humanitarian aid would greatly help improve conditions of the people, I have suggested that aid be sent to the worst areas under the Democratic League banner taking into account the views of Ukranian leaders too." said the President as she rifled through old files handing it to the premier. "It would be great if you were able to attend the upcoming summit this week to relay your view in person."

[-the Ukrainian SSR-]

Ekaterinberg - Eslovakia

Wolanski took a moment to swirl a small amount of his tea around, albeit discreetly, thinking on what the Eslovakian President had said. "Not everyone in Ukraine will so readily agree with you as I have." He said pointedly after swallowing. "I'd be lying if I said that most people didn't outright hate the greater world, nations such as...Them." He refused to address Estainia by name anymore, not after all they'd done. "Or the Commonwealth; are viewed negatively for not only being butchers in the former case, but for leaving us to die in the second case; shining, first world nations such as yourself are not overtly popular either." The Premier drank subtly before he continued.

"Mostly because it's taken you this long to even consider that we may just need a hand. I on the other hand, am not so bigoted; which I suppose is the reason I'm the only one showed up." He quietly drained his cup. "Others, may be accepting with little more than using you as to complete their own ends. Warlords, petty criminals and then some all have a stake; if you were...Commit to helping Ukraine, Seo; it would be a bloody affair, I'll not lie to you there. So yes, I'll attend your summit and try to relay what is happening that needs to be stopped."

[Eslovakia]

"Great to hear that you can make it to the summit, It'll be huge step on the Ukrainian revival." replied Seo. "I understand that we are going to face a wave of problems, that's inevitable in this sort of situations but I'm sure we can strategically and tactically co-ordinate plans together along with advisors who specialise in those sort of business. The closest we've had to dealing with a situation similar to Ukraine is the handling of Euro-Asian refugees as well as planning Euro-Asian reconstruction, so I hope our previous experiences will come to great and effective use."

"Very optimistic" commented the Premier

"A little optimism never hurt anyone but realism will be kept throughout the planning and reports, that's certain." chuckled Seo. She reached for her blazer pocket as her phone vibrated. Quickly checking her text message before slowly putting it away.

"Sorry about that, just my daughter" apologised Seo but the Premier didn't seem to mind. "Well you must be very tired from that journey, I'd advise if you stayed at the hotel now whilst I make preparations for the summit, reports will be regularly sent to you regarding the summit planning progress but I must go and sort out some other affairs. I hope you enjoy your stay in Ekaterinberg, quite a pleasant place if I may say so myself." said the President as she rose up from the chair; the Premier also rose, making his way to the door followed by Seo. The seo opened the door and walked down towards the corridor whilst the Premier followed her as well as the minsters were eagerly waiting outside the room.

"We'll just need to brief the press on the situation, just give them the basics of the situation and a few personal words if you wish." said the President walking alongside the Premier. He nodded in agreement.

The large doors opened and revealed a crowd of people with the clicking sound of cameras snapping photographs of both leader as they made their way to the podium.

"I'd like to thank you all for being present and presenting a warm welcome to our guest here, Premier Vasyl Wolanski of the Ukrainian City State Pripyat!" said President Seo Hye Rim over the mic as the crowd erupted into a wave of clapping.

"Premier Wolanksi has agreed to personally come to Ekaterinberg which is a great honour to help discuss matters regarding the current situation that the Ukrainians face. These matters will also be upheld in the upcoming summit amongst Democratic League members alongside Premier Wolanksi. No decisions as of now have been made but we hope that we will be able to finish the meetings and summit with an achievement that will significantly aid the Ukrainian people." said the President

"Well enough natter from me" chuckled the President as the audience smiled along. "Now for a few words from President Wolanksi himself..."

[-the Ukrainian SSR-]

Simferopol Air Force Base


Electric power was a rare commodity even before the Fall. A First World Luxury afforded mostly to members of The Party; it was an alien thing to many Ukrainians in the general sense; while they knew what it was, no one really enjoyed it if they didn't live in Pripyat, or along the coast near what was left of Odessa was powered by a small dam.

The air base was powered by a complex combination of generators which were in a fortified bunker between the runways that were carefully upkept by the General and his men; if only in hope they would find a plane or two to put to their use. A few televisions sat through out the base; all of them working; two of these were in the barracks. The few resting troopers there were watched the flickering screen with a severe frown on their collective faces as Vasyl Wolanski sold Ukraine wholesale to the Eslovakians.

"So that's it then, we lose." A soldier growled softly as he crossed his arms over his chest; hard eyes taking in the image of the former Minister turned Premier betraying them out to capitali---Fuck that, screw the economic ideology; to goddamn foreigners. "Sold us, lock stock and barrel like those Californians say. We're fucking doomed."

"Well that's fuckin' optimistic, isn't it? It's not like everyone in Ukraine is just going to go 'oh save us mighty northerners'." Another man, a large beast of a man holding a delicate looking plant that he was tending to in a bonsai-fashion spat venomously.

"Right, like it's going to fuckin' matter? Democracy; whether you want it or not, that's how they are, you'll see." ...

[Eslovakia]

=============================================
E45 Highway - Towards Fyrkanter - Eslovakia
"Yes, sir, I'd like to hold a summit next week at Fyrkanter." said President Seo Hye Rim on the phone with Euro Asia's Ambassador. "San Cristobel and Ukraine have been invited as well as international observers."

"Very good, thats great to hear see you then. Thank you, bye bye" Seo put her mobile phone back in her pocket.

Seo Hye Rim gave the foreign minister a thumbs up and he signalled back with a smile. "Guess things are going great then." said the Foreign Minister.

"Yes, better than expected. Lets just hope that combat operation in USEA will begin dying down so we can focus on reconstruction. I'd like to pull resources into Ukraine now." replied Seo

"Well, we could go for the Home Guard" suggested the FM

"Don't even go there, we've discussed this before." stressed the President. "We'll find another way".

The motorcade continued to speed down the highway towards Fyrkanter as the summit began to draw nearer.

=============================================
Fyrkanter - Eslovakia

The city as always was live and vibrant with colours as people filled the streets in the central districts. City workers were working around the clock preparing Fyrkanter for the upcoming summit placing DL, Euros Asian, Urkanian, Eslovakian and San Cristobelian flags on the main streets whilst police began taking security measures around the conference hall where the summit would be held and at the hotel. For the people, it was a great time, for the police, it was a security nightmare...

[-the Ukrainian SSR-]

(Since you won't...)

"What keeps you moving in the day; what faith propels you forward to your goals?" - Unknown

The State of Simferopol
Simferopol Air Force Base - Ukraine

"You should go into the city sometime, would do them some good to know that you're not a faceless overseer." For all the problems that came with the overtly expensive mercenaric officer that was Matthias Laberenz; he had a point. Politics were never the General's strong point; he managed on old, minor officials from the old government who were more or less as corrupt as they came to keep the general civil order of the smallest state in the former Ukraine from collapsing entirely; he avoided outright military rule as much as he could; aside from curfews and stringent checkpoints life was as normal as it got in The Ukraine.

In a word; it still sucked; it just sucked far less than being outside the graces of one of the states; in the literally lawless 'border regions' between the three states; Pripyat, Kyivan Rus and Simferopol were all that remained of the former struggle; devouring their lighter contenders; which much to the chagrin of the General; gave Metisse's idiotic self access to the foundries, factories and industrial complex of the former national conglomerate that was KMDB.

"I suppose." He stood up, crossing to the small windows of the building in the center of the former Ameriqan air force base; a memoir of better days; harder days, maybe; but better ones. "Now that asshole has T-84s coming off of the presses; and that whore he calls a wife pulls his strings and he just smiles and nods. Jesus Christ." He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"We can't replace ours, and he has a never ending stock. Fucking wonderful." The General sighed before he turned back to the mercenary. "Largest army in The Ukraine, smallest civilian population; hardest time feeding so many people." He spoke of what he knew now, resources and logistics were strained here more than anywhere, even Pripyat had it better; with the world just rushing to help them when their reactor blew up; that problem was for the time at least fixed."

"On your orders, the troops have taken from their rations; again. Our supplies are stretching thin." Laberenz said in response, he was a realist against an optimist; a bad position. "We've more bullets than God has angels; yet not enough bread to last another year."

"So the attempt of tilling this miserable dirt failed; I take it."

"Oh, no; the ground is gloriously fertile." The mercenary didn't beat around the bush, at least. "No seed; no wheat. Harder to find brave farmers as well; even with our patrols and sense of security not enjoyed elsewhere; takes balls to go out into the fields in this Hell."

"You can leave any time you think this isn't worth your time." Valshnnar didn't even stutter; gazing evenly at the Belkan who shrugged.

"Only idiot with more money than you is that sick fuck up in Estainia and I'm not into 'breaking legs' as he put it." Laberenz idly rocked on his heels; unprofessional yet so insanely professional at the same time; he had turned conscripts into professionals, after all.

"Ah, yes..." The General mused for a moment. "That...Sick fuck as you call him; a very driven man; I've met General Yakovlev. Back in...2003." Mark paused for a moment as he lifted a few papers off of his desk; a battered and abused thing.

"Oh? What was he like?"

"He was and is a driven man. He had something in his eyes; besides that drive." He lifted a few folders, examining a few things, reports and intelligence on Kyiv and Pripyat. "Wolanski left the country..."

"Pain." He cut the mercenary off. "I don't know what he was suffering from; I hope I never, ever come to know it. He was my friend, Belkan asshole." The General pushed a folder into Laberenz's chest.

"Grain ration; give the orders. Now." Mark growled darkly as he went over others.

"I, wait what; you want me to tell them they're going to starve even fucking more!?" Colonel Laberenz proclaimed in protest. "We don't have anything left to give them before we starve ourselves! Why don't you just let them suffer!?"

There was a flash of movement; a toppling of papers and a second later the mercenary was pressed against the wall. "Because they're my people and it's my goddamn job to make sure that they don't suffer! I'm not failing that job twice you asshole!" They stood like that for a minute before the general released the mercenary.

"Orders."

"Going, going; All Highest." Laberenz mocked as he retreated from the building throwing a casual salute as he did so.

"Peace conferences, bullshit maneuvers...Democracy whether we want it or not." The General muttered as he lifted his reports from the floor; some sense of hopelessness settled in him; this was a coming war he couldn't win, not because of men, or support; but of simple spirit, and mere bread.

[Eslovakia]

=============================================
Fyrkanter - Eslovakia

The large glassy building gleamed elegantly in the International City of Fyrkanter, the most iconic building that represented the city's vibrant diversified culture. The Presidential motorcade drove into the parking lot of the building followed by a stream of security before the gates swung shut on the face of the press with their expensive cameras flashing away. The other representatives and leaders were already present at the summit ready to discuss the Ukrainian Crisis with the guest Premier Wolanski being present to allow his comments to be heard. The President walked into the large blue hall where many people had gathered with sounds of chatter filling the room. The President followed by her advisers quickly found their way to their seats greeting others along the way when the people quickly began to follow finding their way to their seats.

"Good afternoon, first of all, I'd like to thank you all for attending at such short notice. We all know the current situation in Ukraine is deteriorating as it has been over the years with no hope in sight for their population. Being a member of the Democratic League represents an expectancy to uphold the democratic principles we very much cling on to at such perilous times we find ourselves in as war and chaos ensue many parts of the globe. I ask of you today to prevent such madness and chaos to spread any further. I ask of you, as DL members to approve humanitarian assistance under the DL banner to be sent to the city state of Pripyat and other city state in Ukraine that accepts the offer we present. Please, think of the people. said the President after a long speech followed by a moment of silence before the hall roared into a hail of clapping in which the president took the opportunity to sit down and sip from her glass of Coke nervously hoping that she would receive the desired results.

President of the Democratic League, Sven Hendrik Eriksson rose up after the claps. "Any member that wished to object to the current standing issue, speak now.

The hall fell silent as the representatives anxiously looked around to see if anyone had any objections. The Ameriquan representative sharply rose and and gathered the attention of the whole hall.

"We respect the cause this issue is going for but do not sincerely believe that it is in the best interests of the Ameriqan people already being tied logistically in numerous locations around the globe, we simply cannot afford to strain our resources any further."

President Seo Hye Rim looked on disappointed but hoping the Ameriquan actions wouldn't cause a ripple effect in the hall clutching on the hope of the votes.

"Then so be it, the League shall now commence the voting process." announced the President of the League as he sat down with the hall erupting into a loud blare of chatter as representatives were tapping away at the touch screens in front of them where votes came up. The votes were as follows:

President Seo Hye Rim couldn't help smiling as the positive results flickered on the screen and others clapped on. The President slowly stood up, "I would like to thank all those who supported this issue immensely and promise that we will do our utmost for the people of Ukraine for prime results and make sure that the time and effort we will put into this will have the desired effect and results. Thank you all."

The President signaled the Defence Minister, Sten Tolgfors to contact the Joint Chiefs of Staff to execute the plans for Ukraine. The Defence Minister retreated from the scene to a private room behind the large blue curtains, there always seemed to be private areas available in summits these days.

"We've won this battle but we'll now need you to do your part and win the battle at your front, Premier" said the President cheerfully smiling at the people passing by. "We'll broadcast the news to your radio stations within a few minutes or when possible. Hope your people accept the news."

=============================================
Zinkestam - Eastern Rostil Command- Eslovakia

"Alright, it's been confirmed. Operation Gävle is a go." said the Air Force Chief as he gracefully placed down the phone. "I expect all departments in EASROSCOM to have completed their assigned duties and to prepared to launch the operation a week from now. I'll deal with the air force duties, I understand the Department of the Navy will be strained, so I've sent for some guys from USEA responsible for CENROSCOM to help out a bit. Best of luck." briefed the Air Force chief who had the current chairman standing of the Joint Chiefs.

The highly decorated officers left the highly secure room guarded by two military police guards and entered the large white corridors which was full of military and civilian staff rushing about to their duties. The planning had been completed weeks before, it was time to gather the resource and execute.

[-the Ukrainian SSR-]

The Ukraine
The Socialist Republic of Pripyat

"I'm debating whether Wolanski sold us, or delivered our saviors." The house was a small thing, two stories; the faded blue paint was almost gone, the wooden paneling was almost bare in other places; once though it was vibrant, a challenge to the dull, gray concrete block houses of Kiev and Simferopol.

It had a garden, shattered, broken, overgrowing with wild flowers and weeds that dared to survive in the hostile atmosphere; rather than the once vibrant scarlet carsons that were long gone. "What do you think?" The man who spoke was middle aged, balding and had a look of intelligence about him, the dangerous sort; that that old Party feared. Another man moved, smaller, younger; but not a child.

"Maybe he did both. Those northerners, no better than the Russians; wolves in the clothing of sheep." His voice was articulate, intelligent as well; charismatic; marks of one who was once an educated man, an educator; even. "I heard their alliance deliberated today, it was on the radio."

"The meeting?"

"No, just that they were meeting; then the damn thing blew up; it did take a few bullets..." The younger teacher spoke; the older one, a professor formerly sighed and leaned back in a heavily worn down kitchen chair.

"Did you ever believe in it?" The younger spoke; somewhat chipped mugs were filled with a boiling tea; hot, sugarless; the tea itself was beyond rare. "What we did before the war; edu---brainwashing the masses."

"I was, and will remain a communist; I believed wholeheartedly in the ethics, morals, and path of our people; of our state. I taught, I did not brainwash. I told them the truth; that in California they are no different, that their children were just as they were. With any luck; Eslovakia can restore this place to one of order, where education can flourish again." The older one, the professor spoke again, his voice was heavy, remorseful almost.

"You really believe that?" The younger asked simply while the professor drank from his mug of tea. "After everything, you still believe in the glorious revolution, the revolution which may I remind you; believes in the extermination of our kind."

"Our kind? Ah, yes, the intelligent. Which proves you are yet ignorant." The professor set his mug down and stared out the window, where once there was a view of rolling plains there was a wall of concrete that was barely settled, broke glass and barbed wire lined its top and a heavy steel gate was at its junction, the small house was a proverbial fortress, few lived there, just two now; the two educators debated endlessly, their only real skills useless in the new state of things in The Ukraine. "Surely you remember how it goes."

"I know how it goes; and in practice it is far different, you've never heard of the Pattersonists in the south? They perfected it; communism, our version was more traditionalist, certainly, yet it was not unkind, certainly you remember it; we were there before these things around us fell apart, we are here now and will be here after. We are the future; because we can imbue in the young and the ignorant the knowledge they require to rebuild a society based on law as much as it is the community."

"I remember, yes. The day it all started; you were there too..."

---

The Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic
The City of Pripyat - July - 2008

The sun was hot, as it always was this time of year; it beat down on the land, the buildings and the people with little remorse in its immortality; as sure as rain or air, the sun was always there. The University campus sprawled outside of the city's limits, huge; a testimony to the shattering of stereotypes that they didn't value morons over the educated. Students walked this way and that, no different from students elsewhere in the world, they talked, they laughed, they ran because they were late; had their noses in books or were furiously typing away at a portable computer.

The lecture halls were filled to the brim sometimes, and other times they were nearly empty; the class rooms varied in student body, in subject taught; even. Nothing was forced, nothing compulsory; even the state understood that it was better foster knowledge than to try and force it and fail therein. The Professor who spoke was younger then, his voice carried strongly over the heads of students; the lecture hall was filled that day, to the last seat and stair where people sat.

"Who here has some idea of what we share with the world?" He wasn't balding as badly then, his hair was thinning, certainly, his age showing so to speak. A hand wandered up, the student then would become that teacher who came to share the days with the professor.

"Aside from the world, sir?"

"Yes, aside from the wondrous, bountiful world." The Professor responded with a smile, it was kind, not affected by horror or darkness yet.

"The Stars and the Moon; that no matter how different we are in race, creed, or philosophy, we all share the same stars, the same moon. That when we look up at night, we see the same that anyone else who is looking up at that moment sees."

"Interesting, and true." The Professor paced for a moment, as he often did in those days; when times were good, hard, but good. "What else?"

"Thought." A young woman answered, and the Professor absolutely beamed almost.

"Indeed! Indeed that is very true, we all share thoughts, though we may think ourselves as originals, somewhere, someone else is thinking the exact same thing right now that all of you are. Our thoughts are a uniting point that are always ignored, the warriors gain the glory, the engineers build the societies and the scholars with our thoughts are ignored."

That was when the air raid sirens started...

---

The Socialist Republic of Pripyat
Present

The Professor sighed somewhat and nodded finally, several long moments of silence had passed. "Yes, I remember; when you were aspiring and the world wasn't upside down."

"Yet you still stick by it." The Teacher frowned as though disappointed, new opportunity for old conversation

"As sure as they stood by the memory of their empress that they slew us over, for their own inadequacy in their inability to defend one they held dear. Our Government had nothing to do with our undoing, simplistic religious hate."

"What, so you think these northerners can undo that, then?; reverse what they did?"

"No, but I think we need help, and they can help us, as a people we need help beyond the boundaries of the petty governments here."

"They will exploit us; we're intelligent enough men to see that." The younger teacher said with a note of finality to it; as though he were attempting to close conversation.

"Yes, they will." The Professor said sadly, depressed at the thought. "Yet they will also build us up...and that's enough of that, more tea?"

[Eslovakia]

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Valhalla Naval Air Station - Belkinge Län (Province) - Eslovakia

The aircraft lined up on the taxiway of the airbase whilst troops and humanitarian aid was being loaded onto the large C-17's with their ramps ferrying goods inside. A security unit had been sent days before accompanied by K-Strf 100 and a unit of troops tasked of securing the airbase which would become the new Democratic League HQ for the upcoming humanitarian operations. President Seo Hye Rim was determined to not make it look like a military occupation, it was all down to the Ukrainian citizens that would ultimately decide the fate of the operation. Tanks and attack helicopter were an absolute no for the humanitarian mission, the troops and members of the Eslovakian Blue Star were forced to make out what they could with defensive equipment all for the sake of political balance.

As dusk began take over the skies, the runway lights and lampposts in the airbase light up the base with its bright and colorful lights. Soldiers waved to their families standing on the sides of the tarmac waving to their departing soldiers. The remaining soldiers from the Eslovakian Ground Force ran towards the C-17's hurriedly boarding the aircraft as the ground marshals took up their positions in front of the mammoth aircraft lined up perfectly on the airbases parking lanes on the taxiway.

"Ingbjorg Flight, prepare for departure, complete checks and contact VALHALLA ground on 117.25 when ready, over" said the air traffic control over the radio on the distant long tower overlooking the airport.

"Roger that, completing pre-flight check, will contact when ready" replied the lead pilot of the C-17. The pilots flicked and clicked buttons all over the cockpit testing the aircraft's systems and air frame making sure everything was in top shape. The pilot switched his COM1 frequency to 117.25.

"Ingborg Flight to VALHALLA ground, request clearance for mission flight, pushback and taxi to runway." asked the pilot over the radio strapping himself to his chair as his co-pilot followed.

"Ingborg Flight, you are now Ingborg Flight 651. VALHALLA Clearance Delivery. Cleared to the Ukraine via the Astrid Four Departure, Shafter Transition, then as filed. Maintain 5000, Expect Flight Level Three Four Zero - five minutes after departure. Departure Frequency 124.30, Squawk 7201. Good Evening." replied the ATC.

"Cleared to Ukraine via the AST4 departure, EHF transition, then as filed. Initial altitude 5000, expecting 340 in 5, departure on 124.3, squawk 7201, Ingborg Flight 651" said the pilot.

"Ingborg Flight 651, Read back correct." replied the ATC. "Taxi to runway 19R via Taxiway JULIET FOXTROT NOVEMBER RWY19R Holding Point."

The line of C-17's began turned on the strobe and taxi lights one by one as each one pushed back from their stands under the guidance of the brightly dressed air marshal waving his arms guiding the aircraft safely before giving the pilots the thumbs up to make their own way to the runway along the finely paved taxiway with bright streaks of yellow lines. The magnificent sight of the C-17's performing the elephant walk was always bewildering to the onlookers around the base as they made their way towards the runway.

"Ingborg Fligh 651, you are cleared for Tango departure via AST4. Switch to Squawk Mode C+ and departure frequency of 125.45. Skies cloudy with surface winds of 2500Kt, Cleared for take off" said the ATC at the control tower. "Good luck and good speed"

"Roger that, cleared for take off with Tango departure, fly direct AST4. Switching Squawk mode C+ and frequency change approved. Taking off" replied the lead pilot.

The first C-17 moved itself towards the runway before setting their flaps to 5 and increasing their throttle to maximum creating a loud roar from the engines as it teared its way down the runway before flying into the endless sky. The same was followed by the other 8 C-17's behind as they each repeated the maneuvers till all were airborne.

"Ingborg Flight 651 airborne, frequency change approved." said the pilot as he lead his flight towards Ukraine.

Roger that, fly direct TOPAX to rendezvous with flight escort and AWACS. Thank you, bye bye"

The large aircraft flew leaving behind white stream in the clouds.

=============================================
Zinkestam - Eastern Rostil Command- Eslovakia

"The first flight of C-17's has taken off carrying troops, equipment and Blue Star personnel for Ukraine, Pripyat." said the commander of Valhalla NAS over the phone with the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

"Thank you commander, how are the preparations being taken care of at sea?" asked the Naval Admiral.

"We'll be out at sea within 48 hours, final preparations are being made. We've just got to do final checks and load supplies for the crews and we'll be good to sail of to Ukraine." replied the base commander.

"And you've ascertained which port you'll be docking with Ukrainian Authorities in Pripyat?"

"Yes sir, hopefully it'll be a smooth operation. replied the base commander.

"Very well, I expect a full report by tomorrow commander, thank you." said the Admiral dismissing the commander.

[-the Ukrainian SSR-]

The State of Simferopol
Simferopol Air Force Base - Ukraine

General Valshnnar calmly stood up from his desk; outside alarms whined and screamed shrilly in protest as systems of every variety were brought on line in an ordered chaos. Professional movement to the last; measuring from troop held weapons to massive SAM batteries and self-propelled and stagnant anti-aircraft guns pointed to the skies as ground troops moved this way and that, assisting in the setup and providing logistical support. "So it begins." He didn't give flare or waste his time with non-consequential speech. The Belkan ran into the room before he darted out again, grabbing a megaphone intermittently. Methodically as though he didn't care he made his way outside to a sudden deafening silence at his appearance. Laberenz appeared and handed him the megaphone with a solemn nod and walked into the ensemble.

"We've suffered long and hard, and I'm no good at speeches as you all know so I'll get to the point." The General took a long hard breath before he spoke again. "To the North there's a place called Eslovakia, it's a democratic capitalistic first world nation that hasn't given a damn about us before now. They don't give a damn about us now, they're not doing this to feel better about themselves!" He spoke loudly, even with the megaphone; screaming practically his strong voice powerful and commanding.

"They don't care about our plight, they want a puppet to their will; because we sit on the flanks of our motherland; because we sit at what they assume to be the unguarded back of the mightiest nation in history! They want to use The Ukraine as a staging point for forward operating bases, air strips and naval stations to launch an invasion of Birkaine and beyond, to spread their imperialistic will and in the process they have no problem putting us to the sword and forcing us to become their 'allies'; we will be used and abused by them and their masters. To this I have one thing to say to them." He didn't pause for affect as much as he did to breathe.

"I say no! They will not use The Ukraine as it were a toy or a whore; we are subject unto no-one but ourselves, we will not be Eslovakia's puppet; we will not stand here as they occupy our lands and subjugate our people to a fate worse than slavery! They will take The Ukraine when they have gone through us, we've held off armies before, we've failed and had victory but this time I tell you we will not fail again, we cannot fail again. Be it God or Goddess or raging gale; no one will take this land away from us! Now to your stations; they just declared war!" The General bellowed over the mass of soldiers who immediately went about their tasks with a devotion most zealots lacked. There may not have been a nation left to defend, but the land was still theirs, it was still the ancestral home of their people; and before the Nords took it from them, there'd be blood.

General Valshnnar himself stepped back into his command center and crossed to a table covered with a tarp, he ripped it off revealing a radio of a severe lack of sophistication, it was large and analog over all; an old thing comprising of many knobs, switches and dials that he went into a practiced frenzy of turning, flipping and twisting to their desired locations. Finally he sat down in front of the thing and grabbed a small tower-microphone, depressing a button on it simply before he spoke. "This is Ukrainian Army Command, General Mark Valshnnar of the Ukrainian Red Army addressing Birkanian Army Base Nakopya and Colonel General Grazeyev of the Birkanian Army..." He released the trigger and prayed a little bit to whatever greater force there was if any.

---

The Kingdom of Kyivan Rus

Hundreds of miles away from that air force base a similar scene took place in Kyivan Rus, mercenary and professional troops alike moved like drilled ants in an ordered yet chaotic symphony, the air space over the largest land-area state in The Ukraine secured swiftly by Ameriqan built Dassault Rafales as an integrated aerial defense grid was kicked into motion across the territory. At the beating heart of the city of Kyiv the Czar stood in his office reading the reports with a gray ashen look on his face. "So it's come to war; eventually, some part of me expected this." Annette didn't speak, plotting away as she always did the Czarina smiled somewhat reassuringly but offered no words.

The Czar for his shortcomings was not a fool whatever people thought. He had the industrial capacity to win any war within The Ukraine, exception given to Simferopol; but he knew in the long term against a developed nation he could do little more than hold them at bay for a few short weeks before his lines crumbled, and in his mind and knowing the situation in his northern militaristic neighbor; Valshnnar could do no different without supplies. "Send a missive to General Valshnnar; and send a message to Eslovakia. They desire to invade our soil; they will be forced into fighting for it." An assistant ran off to inform someone capable of fulfilling the Czar's wishes. "Shakespeare; cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war." The Czar mused aloud.

Outside people milled about as systems were set up all over, in the city and from with out it; ground troops took up positions and a tense metaphorical silence came over the place as the Czar came out to look over the city from a balcony attached to the former Red Palace. "I have no speech, or encouraging words." He spoke realistically. "Only a warning to those who think they are unsure of who they stand with. These first worlders have not cared for us so far, they do not do so now. I urge you to defend what is yours by right of birth. If they want war, while we are shattered and divided; we will not go quietly."

---

The Socialist Republic of Pripyat

The scene that played across The Ukraine was so very different here, as though compliant, silent. Those who lived there went about their business; the small security forces made no movements of aggression or reinforcement of any positions. The Junior Premier sat in his office, keeping things running as normal as long as Wolanski was out of the country; in the far distance the looming shadow of the Chernobyl power plant sat as silent as it had, gutted and largely destroyed as it had been, teams still surrounded it; as 'good' as bad life got in Pripyat, it was good; and it was quiet. There were not speeches of inspiration, no movement of troopers or equipment, there was no need for such acts, they thought in earnest. Whatever would come, would come, and with all good luck their world would be all the better because of it, and they'd be rebuilt again, a place its people could be proud of; even if they owed it to foreigners...

[Birkaine]

Nakopya Army Base
Prostok Oblast
Birkaine

Nakopya Army Base, located in the outskirts of the city of Stalnoserd, one of the many obscure, monotonous cities that sat in the gargantuan shadow of Ferrograd and as a result of their inevitable eclipsing by the capital were reduced to nothing but footnotes on the Birkanian conscousness. It was certainly not what one would think of when imagining the installations of the Birkanian Army. It was a surprisingly civilian-looking affair, with unarmored office buildings, a military hospital where the veterans of past conflicts were given treatment and even calm residential sectors dotted by white houses on a sea of green lawns. There was no SAM batteries or missile launchers, the toughest form of defense was a series of simple pillboxes that interrupted the long brick wall that surrounded the facility from all sides. There were only vague signals of the militarism involved in the facility, such as a large parking completely filled to the brim with unarmed military trucks and a statue in front of the main entrance to the facility that consisted of a tank on a pedestal. The barracks, housing, hospital and office buildings expanded for many blocks, but were dwarfed by the airport-sized maze of warehouses, some the size of large houses and some the size of football fields, tended to by hundreds of forklifts and trucks. Some of them were routinely accessed, emptied and refilled with many different contents, but others had full years since they were last opened, mistifying the numerous crew of the base. It certainly wasn't one of the well-guarded, bunker-like ammunition depots in Glubina against which the mightiest of fortresses paled, the only thing protecting the contents of the warehouses were thin zinc roofs. They were not filled with enough weapons and ammunition to fight a decade-long war. The warehouses were instead filled with something completely different but just as necessary: food supplies, tents, water purification units and makeshift field hospitals, all of them neatly folded and stored in wooden or plastic boxes.

Nakopya was one of the many logistical depots of the Birkanian Army, and in fact one of the largest. In many past catastrophes and natural disasters in the Birkanian East, Nakopya had provided the emergency supplies and food to tens of thousands if not hundreds of thousands or even millions of unfortunate souls, as well as the equipment to keep the disasters under control. With the long runways and large helipads that it posessed, Nakopya was able to provide quick relief when needed. It had done so countless times before, but one particular operation that had given Nakopya some notoriety were the huge relief actions when the Russo-Spanish Empire had invaded and effortlessly ravaged the Ukraine. Leaving millions homeless, many fled to the western border expecting to see Birkanian armed sentries, barbed wire and minefields but getting large refugee camps, medicine and food instead, all of them coming from the same logistics base. It had been a puzzling move for any familiar with the nature of Birkanians, who were more likely to have taken the chance and annexed Ukraine during its ensuing anarchy and internal strife. However, that never came to pass, for after a long history of shared socioeconomic systems, trade and even racial relations; the Ukrainians had come to be viewed by the average Birkanian as distant, long-lost brothers. Brothers that had to stand for themselves (after all, the heavily militaristic Commonwealth did not defend them either) but nevertheless brothers to whom the warrior rage should not be directed.

However, even with the perceived brotherhood, pressure had to be made for the relief and humanitarian deployment to be allowed, with the risk of being undermanned and underequipped in case a calamity had happened in Birkaine proper, in addition to the political differences of fascist and communist states that shared no trade relations. That pressure had been applied quickly and decisively by a man, Grigory Vasilivsky Grazeyev. Recovered alcoholic; an optimistic and idealist man, to the point of weirding out other men of his rank who were by most part pragmatic and serious. He had a natural comfort with giving help and expecting nothing in return; not even for a religious or conscious purpose but because he seemingly gravitated towards that kind of actions. He was no less happy to charge into battle than any other Birkanian, but he knew that most of the time such a thing wouldn't be possible and tried to make the best out of time. He was also one of the few who were idealist enough to cling with unwavering loyalty to the President-General Zavomir Yulianov, while everyone else was licking the boots and praising the plans of who would surely rule Birkaine in a matter of months if not weeks Lord General Endel Stephanyan. Not only that, but he found himself disgusted when his fellow commanders recommended he 'gain favor' with the Lord General.

Even so, doubts and wavering rarely crossed his head. 'To Ferrograd what is Ferrograd's' was his calming mantra. The government would have his services, he would have his beliefs. None would interfere with the other. Whenever he lost faith in his own beliefs due to hardship, he often spent hours looking west through the window of his office, where the orange aura of the Ferrogradian night lights dotted with airplanes and airships served as a pleasant reminder of its peaceful, parallel existence with himself.

However, this was not one of such days of silent contemplation, as it had been a pleasant day of routine for the General, looking over the 100-page manifestos, scribbling his corrections on them and signing documents authorizing the arrival and departure of dozens of metric tons of equipment and cargo that transited the base through air, road and rail. The General was in fact pretty upbeat and anxious, as ideas had been tumbling around on his head for the better part of the day and he wanted to coalesce them into a novella.

In its waning hours the day was, nevertheless, about to change radically.

"General" The male voice of the general's secretary, a young lieutenant, came from the intercomms. "You've got a call, it's a certain Colonel Sebastian Totleben from Spetviaz's LKL communications post."

"...Spetsviaz? Signals intelligence?" The General pushed a button and replied to the lieutenant, who was on the other side of the door that led to his large office on the top floors of one of the larger buildngs of Nakopya. "What do I have to do with them?"

"They want to question you over a signal they picked up coming from Ukraine, sir."

The General was a tad puzzled. Spetsviaz was one of the things he heard of in spy and mistery novels, though his military experience had led him to the realization it was something very real. Part of Birkaine's large internal intelligence and counter-intelligence services, Spetziav specifically was tasked with collection and analysis of communications of all types and origins. LKL was one of their SIGINT stations to the southeast, supposedly tasked with capturing information form Xinese, Chernobylian and RSFSR origins, but it spent most of its actual time spying or eavesdropping on Birkaine's own citizens.

"It appears a transmitter in Ukrainian territory has been making calls to your person, in the name of a certain General Mark Valshnnar"

The eyes of the General immediately widened with surprise and his jaw dropped. Immediately after, he quickly gathered his papers in a briefcase, put on his visor cap and coat and locked the dozens of archives in his office, all while telling his secretary to tell the Spetsviaz colonel to call later. While Nakopya posessed top-notch communications equipment including a huge radio mast several hundred meters tall, the Ukrainian transmissions had gone ignored for hours as they were not encrypted or transmitted in any of the usual frequencies in which the Birkanian Army transmitted. After the Spetsviaz had intercepted the strange transmission and deconstructed it to analyze each bit and find nothing, they had decided to let the General know that the transmission that was meant to him was interfering with their own monitoring. In layman's terms, the intelligence service of Birkaine had told the General to pick up the damn phone because the ringing was driving them insane.

And so he did, after quickly running his way to the communications center in an adyacent building. It was the complete opposite to the shanty Ukrainian comms post: the walls were covered in computers, screens and monitors; The equipment was capable of transceiving audio, video and data on a variety of frequencies, and thus the operators inside had no problem tuning in to the frequency in which Valashnar was transmitting, and began transmitting back with a clear, clean signal instead of the heavily muffled and distorted audio from the old Ukrainian radio.

"Valashnar, Colonel General Grazeyev speaking!" The general said in a joyous tone and a deep laugh; and starting to yap on even before Valashnar had a chance to reply. "I thought you were dead my friend, everyone thought you were dead. It's been a while since the war, you see, none of us had heard anything about you and the media eventually loses interest when anarchy goes on for too long. We've changed a lot since then, half the guys that participated in the Ukrainian relief are getting redeployed West for whatever reason... plenty of new faces around here, I'm sure there's plenty too on your end." He interrupted himself, realizing he'd end up speaking about his daughter's graduation if he didn't stop. He laughed again. "Now, what is it that I can do for you Valashnar? Been a while since we did anything of interest on this side of the border."

[Eslovakia]

Ekaterinberg House
President Seo Hye Rim

To General Valshnnar of the State of Simferopol and The Czar of the Kingdom of Kyivan Rus

We have received your worrying message and wish to rest assure the population of Ukraine as well as it's leaders that this is not an act of war or an invasion against the city states of Simferopol and Kyvian Rus and other city states that are currently established within Ukrainian Borders. Watching a nation suffer for years with no hope of recovery in sight, the Democratic League felt obliged to provide aid to the suffering people of Ukraine. We will not force upon democratic institutions and ideas on the Ukrainian people in any city state. The people have every right to choose their own government and constitution.

We have already established that the city state refuse an Eslovakian presence on their soil, we will respect that request set forth and restrict our relief and humanitarian mission within the borders of Pripyat. No Eslovakian soldier will be ordered to relinquish the duties of soldiers of Pripyat. The duties of border protection will be left to the Pripyat security forces, we have no right to assert and enforce authority over another nations borders without overall consent from it's government. The Eslovakian security detail is simply for the protection of vulnerable aid workers and civilians as well as to keep order within refugee camp.

We are deeply saddened to hear that you feel threatened by the presence of our military within your respectable borders. Rest assured, these are only for peacekeeping purposes to protect vulnerable civilians from harm within refugee centers as well as aid workers from the Eslovakian Blue Star who will be heeding this important operation for the Ukrainian people to help achieve balance and stability in the region for the benefit of both internal and external parties. I personally have authorized an order to prevent the deployment of offensive weaponry on Ukrainian soil which include tanks and attack helicopters that can cause a threatening stance in the region, something we will strive to eliminate. Rest assured that the people and the leadership are NOT the enemy of Eslovakia and the Democratic League but embrace you as allies striving for one goal. Peace and stability in Ukraine.

We eagerly wish to co-operate with all Ukrainian city state authorities to provide relief and aid to the most needed areas, something we can only achieve with the organization and co-operation between us. We will offer peace a chance in the region, we hope that you too will let peace have its chance in the region too.

Yours Honorably

President of Eslovakia
Seo Hye Rim

---

=============================================
Pripyat International Airport - State of Pripyat - Eslovakia

The flight of 8 C-17's smoothly touched down at the uncratered at Pripyat International Airport using the only one taxiway to taxi towards their parking ramp at a derelict section of the airport with the terminal flattened covered in rubble and debris from the shell hits it had taken from the previous battles it had encountered. The planes slowly rolled up till it came up to halt being directed by the already stationed ground marshals who had flown in before hand in a single C-17 setting up make shift aircraft maintenance equipment whilst the EAF Regiment set up security around the airports perimeter collaborating with already stationed Pripyat troops at the airport.

"Ingborg Flight 651 at Ukraine/PRIPYAT from TIPAL. Powering down with switches safe, lights out, at MILRAMP 1-8" said the pilot on the radio towards the overhead AWACS aircraft preparing to fly back to Eslovakia.

"Big Eye, Acknowledged, power cut and lights out at MILRAMP 1-8. Don't forget flaps and ailerons." joked the radio officer onboard the aircraft "Switch to 122.25 for Pripyat ATC . Frequency changed approved. If changes monitor UNICOM on 122.80. Thank you bye bye."

The chatter ended on the radio as the pilots shut down the roaring engines on the ground whilst the large ramps of the aircraft opened up revealing heavy equipment to be used for the humanitarian mission. Humvees and 5 K-Strf 100's rolled out on the airports grey tarmac followed by bulks of boxes with tents, food and medical equipment. The other planes carried personnel from the EAF Regiment and the Eslovakian Blue Star (OOC: Red Cross equivalency) strolled out on the airports tarmac walking towards the nearby hangars where containers and tents had been placed having been established the new FOB for the Democratic Leagues humanitarian force.

Eslovakian personnel were greeted by the Pripyat soldiers at the airport where there were warm smiles all round and a sense of trust between the two felt like had been established. The Eslovakian, DL and Ukrainian Flag were raised at the highest point of the airport for all to see. With the formalities over, it was time to get things in gear and prepare the necessary preparations before the fleet arrived with most of the needed equipment to Ukraine.

The commanding officer of the new FOB approached the troops who had neatly lined up in rows of three at the stance of ease.

"Company! Company shun!" shouted out the commanding officer holding the rank of Colonel.

The row of soldiers dressed in combat fatigues stood at attention ever so still facing the commander giving drill instructions to them.

"As you may well know, we've just landed in yet another shit hole that needs sorting, obviously because what Ekaterinberg says goes. We're tasked with reinforcing the defensive perimeter around the FOB. The army guys did it without armor support, I expect you to do ten times better. said the commander loudly with an authoritative voice. "SAM's, checkpoints, fences and barbed wire will be the first phase of reinforcing the defensive lines until the A380 and main fleet arrives with more equipment. We'll be starting the humanitarian operation a week from now. So get into your quarters, get your scruffy selfs organized and be at the second hangar within 1 hour. The second hangar is the new mess hall till any further changes. That'll be all."

"Company! Officer on parade! To you duties, fall out!"

The rows of soldiers swiftly turned to their right and and saluted before marching three paces forward immediately jogging afterwards towards the large hangar which would house the new security detail for the airport.

[-the Ukrainian SSR-]

The Ukraine
The State of Simferopol

While General Valshnnar worked his angle to secure something from their long lost ancestors, Colonel Laberenz was assigned the job of commanding a post far beyond his personal experience. The Heer's units of 6,000 were one thing; this was over half a million men spread through out Simferopol with the largest concentrations of Valshnnar's 'elite' personal troops being the ones present at the air base, former Red Guard units who were the survivors of the Siege of Kyiv, in short. Ranging from tanks and ground troops to meager unmoving FACs that posed as what remained of The Ukraine's navy in distant docks; until the General drew plans himself, it fell to Laberenz to coordinate some sort of united effort of movement, one thing however he did not intend to do was take his time with it like predecessors in the Ukrainian Army proper did. He signaled to junior officers of lesser rank, called up captains and lieutenants; divided larger units into smaller ones, via voice and field radio, even runners where necessary.

This reorganization would be the lengthiest of the mad dash that would be the Ukrainian Army's response this time; no sitting on their laurels or being locked down in barracks's again. "Move it people, move it! Stations, stations!" The Colonel ran this way and that with the speed of a gazelle and the boundless energy of a small child on a sugar high. In the relative distance a trio of massive looking IS-3 main battle tanks rumbled quietly, the precious oil and petrol that ran them as rare as bread; the supply was small, stretched across far too many things. "Any reason we can't use jet fuel in tanks?" The Belkan mused aloud suddenly, "Well, it'll ruin the engines for one thing." One of the logistical officers responded with a deadpan tone as the aforementioned trio rolled towards the wire gates of the air base. "We don't have multifuel turbine engines like the Ameriqans or Californians, sure, KMDB built some fantastic models along those lines, then well you know what happened. The only reason those modernized old pieces of shit are still around is because the Czar has the factories that produce the T-84."

"Fair point. I'm just trying to figure out a way to broaden our limited strategic resources." The Colonel responded simply as a screech of metal was heard along with a hiss of steam as a train came to a stop; the air force base had been supplied by the rails during the times it was used by the Ameriqans; bringing supplies in from the sea and elsewhere they led through most of The Ukraine, though these days the tracks that were mostly intact were in Simferopol's area and leading into Birkaine; a selection of troops were boarding the thing, moving out to the dreaded border-region of the state where the anarchy people talked about on their evening news in peaceful stable nations took actual form, rule by petty bandit-kings, mobsters and worse; where the only stability came from brute force.

"Let's all remember people the General has strict orders not to leave the borders; we're to make a presence, make it very clear we're not fond of the Eslovakians and Cherobylians getting all buddy-buddy, but we're not to intrude on the anarchy zone and cross into Pripyat, got it?"

"It's relayed sir, we get it. No one here is gonna cross into either Pripyat or that monarchist Hell; it's them WE have to worry about."

"Duly noted, keep to the plans useless as they are, remember to shoot back if they shoot at you."

"Aye sir, not telling us anything we haven't been doing for the passed four years."

A hiss of steam and grinding of metal later the train began to gather momentum and was soon out of the base loaded down with troops for various destinations along the smallest, yet longest borders in The Ukraine...

[Eslovakia]

=============================================
Pripyat International Airport - State of Pripyat - Eslovakia

The troops from combined elements from the Ground Force and Air Force work diligently around the clock fixing up parts of the base setting up airport refueling posts and appropriate equipment to handle the heavier air operations that were to be brought in by the mammoth sized C-5 Galaxy aircraft and A380's ferrying in personnel and medical staff from the Eslovakian Blue Star into Pripyat. The defenses around the base now included a battalion sized amount of troops equipped with the appropriate equipment like IFV's, Humvees, SAM's etc.

The first flight, the chartered Eslovakian Airlines EAL755 was bound to land within an hour, preparations had already been completed, all that was left was to eagerly await for the aid staff to arrive at the large partially completed airport.

"SSgt Erik!" came a distant shout from an approaching officer from one the recently erected tents at the base. "Gather your men and equipment for a briefing at hangar 2! Double time!"

"Yes sir!" replied the Staff Sargent as he signaled his squad to follow him into the hangar. The troops hurridely ran towards the hangar were tables were neatly lined out, white boards were present and ammunition was spread out available for taking.

"Gentlemen, I won't be long. Just make sure you can see the board." said the base commander along with his Eslovakian Blue Cross adviser beside him. "We've received intel from Zinkenstam of a possible massing of troops along the border with the State of Simferopool. We haven't received a reply from the their state when we sent the letter out so we assume they're there do some damage but we cannot let that happen. We've organized with the Pripyat security detail to monitor border activities making sure that nothing goes wrong."

"As you can see on this map, we'll be travelling along this route on Humvees and K-Strf 100's. The IFV's are packing anti-tank gear if things hot although I expect that to be an absolute last resort. It's a patrol mission to maintain FOB and civilian security. Avoid ALL engagements. Clear?

"Yes sir!" shouted the squad of 22 men and women dressed in combat fatigues and gear.

"Alright, gear up and get mounted! Lets go!" shouted SSgt Erik behind his squad as he instructed them to resupply their ammunition doing their final checks on weapons and food as well as other vital equipment strapped to them on their large tactical vests.

"Now look at you handsome." said a female corporal as she picked up the FIM-92 Stinger carefully inspecting the delicate weapon. "We taking it with us?"

SSgt Erik paused for a moment before giving her a nod instructing her to place it inside the armored IFV. "Go on and hurry, place it in the ammunition compartment under the seats and double time it back, I wan't 4 stingers and 4 Javelin's with 2 spares."

"And guess what, someones carrying and it ain't me. So you guys better start drawing straws." chuckled SSgt Erik as he hauled equipment onto the Humvees and IFV's neatly lined up on the airports tarmac.

The sudden rush of a roaring aircraft passed them overhead as it descended onto the airports dark black tarmac with it's flaps full extended. The crew instantly recognized the A380's civilian markings belonging to the Eslovakian Airlines.

"All the gears up and ready, Staff!" shouted a corporal mounting the Mk 19 Grenade Launcher on top of the Humvee as she smiled brightly. "Alright, we're Oscar Mike, lets roll!" shouted SSgt Erik as he mounted the Humvee first in line leading the convoy of 4 IFV's and 6 Humvees towards the outside world. The convoy began to steadily gain speed before reaching the secure gates of the FOB. They saluted and drove out towards the buffer zone before entering the insecure world. Civilian bystanders looked on as they left the safety and comfort of the FOB and into the unknown territory of Pripyat.

"PRIPCOM to RHINO 1 do you read over?" said a familiar authoritative voice over the radio. "I wen't through the trouble of getting a Ukrainian Hind to provide recon support for the mission. The terrain is pretty messed up with forests, mountains and rivers so moving about may not be the easiest thing at waypoint 5, the Hinds there to make sure nothing goes wrong. I'f you get yourself into a firefight, do a tactical withdrawal and double time the fuck back to base! Problem, ladies?" asked the commander.

"Thank you sir, we'll put it to good use." cheerfully replied SSgt Erik "RHINO 1 out."

"RHINO 1 to HIND, good to have you with us." said SSgt Erik.

"My Eslovakian very little, no good but I'm very good at fly." replied a slightly nervous voice on the coms on the radio.

SSgt Erik looking bewildered sighed and realised he wasn't going to get any further. He looked at the passenger seat and handed the Ukrainian soldier the radio instructing him to tell the pilot to make sure the convoy was safe at all times.

"Сержант наказую вам стежити за колону і переконайтеся, що evrything йде добре." said the Ukrainian soldiers onboard the Humvee talking to the Ukrainian pilot.
"The Sergeant order you to keep an eye on the convoy and to make sure evrything goes well."

"Я робив це все своє життя, я знаю, що я роблю, не потрібно не іноземців, щоб нагадати мені про мою роботу, Майкл" replied the Ukrainian pilot less pleased having been ordered to rush immediately out of his barracks on short notice to support an element he had never worked with before.
"I've been doing this all my life, I know what I'm doing, don't need no foreigners to remind me of my job, Michael"

"Thank fuck for that." joked SSgt Erik now acknowledging the importance of the Ukrainians in the mission. "Couldn't imagine myself keeping my temper trying to tell him what to do an what not.!

"I'm SSgt Erik, Erik Anderson." smiled the Staff Sergeant as he leaned back to shake the hand of the Ukrainian interpreter. "Glad to have you with us, much appreciated."

"I am Mikhail Adriy" replied the rough looking soldiers, built and looked like he had seen enough combat to know what he was doing. SSgt Erik preferred to work with people he knew had tasted combat like him, he was always more comfortable to be amongst a band of soldiers. "The feeling is mutual as they say, haha"

The convoy entered the largely dark forest as it took a left turn on the rugged road whilst the Hind whizzed overhead...

=============================================
Iron Sea - Off the Ukrainian Coast - Northern Valhalla Fleet

The vessels slowly ploughed through the rough seas as they neared the Ukrainian port that had been prepared beforehand to accept the arrival of the large and mainly logistical fleet with several merchant navy ships along with escorts, hospital ship and a single carrier, the ENS Ekaterinberg. They flew the right flags signalling their arrival to the port authorities as the fleet slowly came to a stop outside the large port.

"All merchant ships, proceed to docking at port and begin unloading cargo for transportation. All warships to remain out at sea excluding corvettes." said Admiral Björnberg on his radio to all his ships. We'll begin preparations to fly out the helicopters from the carrier within 2 hours towards the FOB before we head back home in 6. All stations down, assume level MARINNIVÅ 2. That is all."

The crews of the fleet began to unwrap the protection the helicopters were wrapped in during the duration of the journey as the maintenance vehicles towed the Blackhawks as well as NH-90's around the deck on by one whilst supplies were put into the helicopters.

Merchant ships of the navy slowly in an orderly manner began approaching the port at their individual piers as computer systems guided them in avoiding collision with the dock and surrounding ships. The operation had seem to go according to plan as the first trucks were being unloaded from the first docked ships but by no means was this going to be a fast and easy task in the long run. All were fully aware of the scale of the humanitarian operation leaving many in doubts of the success and dangers of the mission.

[Eslovakia]

[-the Ukrainian SSR-]

The Ukraine
The State of Simferopol
Border Anarchist Zone


"Set up along this line; large units, nothing under a platoon size; I want a clear presence; not only for the Eslovakians but those damn idiots and their Mosins aren't above trying to ambush military convoys as well; the only people on the planet more stupid than them are Birkanian Partisans." Colonel Laberenz didn't begin to like the idea of commanding so close to a possible front but with the state of communications as Medieval as Wolfkrone or Estainia was he didn't have much choice. "Yeah but you have to give Partisans points, they have tanks." A soldier remarked as he ducked away from the Belkan's baton with a chuckle. "No screw ups people; no one shoots at them; return fire only! And don't hallucinate!"

"Organize the armored units five kilometers back from the general infantry, engines off, not like we have it to burn; I want marksmen and snipers as high as we can get them; those ruins off to the west ought to do fine. The General wants a presence; we'll give them one hell of a presence; alright."

---

The Ukraine
Simferopol Air Force Base

"Valashnar, Colonel General Grazeyev speaking!" General Valshnnar breathed a sigh of relief that the old signal still worked. "I thought you were dead my friend, everyone thought you were dead. It's been a while since the war, you see, none of us had heard anything about you and the media eventually loses interest when anarchy goes on for too long. We've changed a lot since then, half the guys that participated in the Ukrainian relief are getting redeployed West for whatever reason... plenty of new faces around here, I'm sure there's plenty too on your end." Mark took a breath as the other general cut himself off suddenly before he continued albeit briefly. "Now, what is it that I can do for you Valashnar? Been a while since we did anything of interest on this side of the border."

"Glad to say I'm not dead; plenty of change everywhere, new faces and same places." Valshnnar mused before he hurried; klaxons outside still whined loudly; he hoped this would work; as well. "I, need...well I need damn sure more than a favor my friend; I need help and a lot of it. You know those bastards to the north, Eslovakia? Well, after years of watching the situation here grow worse they suddenly 'care' if you know what I mean. I have every intention of stopping them and have no resources to do so; and I really could use the support to end this shit once and for all." The tone of his voice was oddly neutral; though there was a smidegon of hope here and there.

[Eslovakia]

=============================================
Pripyat/Simferopol Border - State of Pripyat - Ukraine

"Rhino Actual to Rhino 1, Hind reports troop movement along border gathering strength with possible armored support although unconfirmed. Earlier sat recon provided from Ekaterinberg showed no sign of troops earlier. Assume hostile intentions and adopt return fire RoE." said the radio in the vehicles within the forest travelling at a steady pace.

"Roger that, are there any changes, over?" asked SSgt Erik sounding concerned as the troops in his vehicle looked at him worryingly.

"Negative, proceed as filed. Over and out."

SSgt Erik placed the radio back into it's socket on board the Humvee as it continued to travel along it's route. The Eslovakian soldiers along with their Ukrainian counterparts checked their weapons hastily as they eyed their surroundings for possible dangers ever so carefully along the unpaved road that seemed to stretch for miles entering and exiting the forest as it grew more scarce. The convoy now became familiar with the continuous landscape as it traversed closer to the border with the Hind closer to the border then the rest keeping a good eye on the large troops movement that gathered along the border.

The sight of civilians became too common as they passed certain houses that lay in the outskirts with many folks scouring away in hiding shutting the windows of their homes and hiding away in the forest. There was a long way to go before the people could begin to trust them after enduring their years of hardship.

The convoy had reached the border and the troops were tense watching around as the convoy slowed down in the now bare landscape of grey hills and mountains leaving little space fore greenery. A glimpse of light reflecting from the snipers scope caught the attention of SSgt from a nearby hill across the border. "Sniper on the hills!" blared SSgt Erik over the radio to the convoy as the K-Strf 100's turret trained towards the hilltops. "Hold fire! Do not engage unless fired upon!" commanded SSgt Erik. "How do you know it's a sniper?" asked the Ukrainian soldier as he clutched on ever so tightly his Mosin Nagant onto his soldier pointing across the border. "Seen that too many times back during the Euro Asian Civil War, sniper littered buildings all over the city. I could recognize that anywhere. replied SSgt Erik sharply.

The SSgt order the DL flag to be hoisted on the lead vehicle as it slowly drove across the dirty gritty road near the border shaking the vehicles slowing them down as they cautiously scoured the area. "Я бачу війська з оборонних позицій вздовж хребта і пагорбів. Вони також охоплює деякі види обладнання, але я не бачу, що це таке." "I see troops taking defensive positions along the ridge and hills. They are also covering some equipment but I can't see what it is." blarred the radio as the Hind above transmitted to all the vehicles. SSgt Erik listened carefully as Mikhail translated the pilots words into Eslovakian. "Ok, thank him, tell him to keep us posted" replied the SSgt as he ordered the convoy to spread the vehicles more apart from each other.

The large presence began to worry the troops as they had experienced attacks on their convoys on their prior deployments and knew of the consequences. The convoy continued to traverse along the border sighting a heavier presence as it continued to move on along it's side of the border as the DL flag fapped in the strong winds that began to grow. SSgt noticed one of his corporals filming the troops from her smartphone whilst her rifle trained on them. "Put that fucking shit away before I shove that thing up your arse! Go join the EVT if you want to make a documentary on this!" screamed the SSgt angrily as she hastily put away her phone in shame whilst the other looked on disappointed. "Were approaching way point GOLF, from there, were heading back to the FOB." said SSgt Erik as he still glared along the hills occasionally pulling out his binoculars and eyeing the troops on the other side cautiously.

=============================================
Iron Sea - Off the Ukrainian Coast - Northern Valhalla Fleet

The helicopter were neatly lined up on the amphibious assault ships as one by one began to take off towards the FOB carrying fresh supplies of food and water to stockpile at the base before the Blue Star began distributing the rations of food to the people. The sight of helicopters filled the sky as the whirled over the port. Some of the warships were already heading back with the merchant navy nearly completing it's off loading of goods onto the neatly lined grey docks.

[-the Ukrainian SSR-]

Airspace of Kyivan Rus - The Ukraine

The endless blue of the Ukrainian sky could never tell of the horrors that man committed below. It was the one untainted thing left to the shattered nation, the pure clouds and blue fields, the untouchable sun and infinite stars of the heavens and the moon. These pure, untouched things that they shared with the rest of the world that had forgotten them. From here one couldn't see the pockmarked countryside or the sheer terror in the gaunt faces of the people, and for Nolwenn Vasquez, that was...nice. As a mercenary people figured him to lack morals, the sense of honour that his people had, and yet who was here trying to right a wrong, and the majority that left? Nolwenn deftly adjusted the control stick of his Dassault Rafale, the jet that so gracefully allowed him the sacred ability of flight that he enjoyed more than any other pleasure imaginable; the Ukrainian countryside rolling passed like a film strip, so fast it could've made one sick and yet he relished it.

The delicate instruments that made up the display of his advanced craft ever present for the threats that surrounded him allowed the pilot a brief second to wander, just ever flying, though dutifully careful to stay out of the range of the SAM sites of Simferopol. He found it odd however, when his instruments began to react, radar picking up a signal, not many, just one little blip, again and again. He manuevered his aircraft down through the clouds and took in the sight before him, the Rafale was too fast for any proper sight seeing but the vast movement of gray-green streams was unmistakable of men and material from the direction he was pretty sure was Simferopol. The single blip of his radar something in the air that continuously methodically almost moved over the length of the invisible line in the sand between the larger force and a far smaller one he could barely make out. Then he sighed, coming back to the reality of his job, what he was paid for.

The Rafale swung in the air once more, lower now almost to the ground it could be seen with the naked eye but was far beyond the range of a MANPADS unit, he wasn't a novice. A simple flick of a switch followed, the radar lock afterwards would no doubt reverberate through the cockpit of the lower helicopter below, but alas in that moment he didn't care. A single second later a simple radar-guided missile shot away from the jet fighter on a collision course with the methodical little scout. Without much afterthought, after all he was only enforcing the no-fly zone over the Ukraine that the Czar had kept up for some time now; he banked his jet off to the east before turning, elevating and kicking in his afterburners to return to his base.

---

The State of Simferopol
Anarchist Border Zone

"Colonel! Colonel Laberenz!" The Colonel looked up just about the time the annoying fly above his forces exploded in a hail of fire and metallic shrapnel that flew off into the greater green pastures of the surrounding area. "Well...So much for not hallucinating." He grimaced slightly before he picked up the radio. "Alright ladies who the fuck fired at the Hind?"

"Colonel!"

"WHAT!?" The Belkan finally reeled around to see a rather pale Warrant Officer holding his sides trying to breathe.

"We didn't fire at the Hind, not a single one of our forces have expended any type of ammunition." Albeit the message was ragged and breathless, but Laberenz understood it none the less. For a moment the Colonel was speechless as he pieced together the news, all the while other officers and support staff ran this way and that way, relaying orders to troops who were reporting in a variety of negatives on having fired on the enemy gunship.

"Oleksander..." The Colonel finally growled softly before he lifted his radio. "Hold your positions, absolutely do not fire a single weapon until you are definitively fired upon. This is it men, the day you start to reunite your country."

[Eslovakia]

=============================================
Pripyat/Simferopol Border - State of Pripyat - Ukraine

The large ball of flame crashed down into a dense thick forest whilst debris rained down upon the ground troops lined up on the road. The convoy grinded to a halt as troops rushed out the vehicles assuming a defence formation.

"Get the vehicles into a Herringbone formation, now!" commanded SSgt Erik as he hastily rushed out to the lead IFV.

The vehicles within that second of command immediately cleared the rocky road pushing themselves 100 meters deep into the dense thick forest that covered parts of the terrain to prevent any further surprises. The troops pressed themselves on the ground and machine gunners on the turrets froze remaining silent as they waited expectedly for the enemy ground forces to pour in on them, waiting in total silent.

SSgt carefully got up from his position lying close to the IFV carefully studying the sky clearing dirt from his face obscuring his vision. The missile trail was still visible and immediately recognized the missile wasn't launched from the ground. Using hand gestures, he carefully signalled 4 of his troops to follow him as he carefully but steadily paced towards the wreckage who soon followed on behind watching their careful steps breaking twigs and jumping over the forests obstacles that littered for miles. The five men picked up speed now sprinting towards the crash site as they got closer becoming more distant from the main convoy still lying in wait in cold, dead silence.

The men arrived at the now smoke riddled crash site with metal pieces all over the place, the area slightly cleared by the helicopters crash. SSgt Erik quickly kneeled and pointed his L85A2 at a silhouette he couldn't properly make out as the smoke gushed out of the wreckages motor. A young man, face clobbered in dirt grabbing onto a piece of metal stared back at SSgt Erik shaking in fear as the barrel of the rifle pointed directly at him. SSgt Erik saw he was just a civilian, probably over curious for his own good withdrew his rifle and gave a thumbs, an attempt of assurance.

The man nervously pointed at the helicopters bent, grilled cockpit before SSgtr and his team recognized a man face down and his uniform covered in thick, red blood. The wasted no time sprinting into action as the medic checked for any signs of life whilst the young nervous man was no where to be seen presumably ran in fear of his life. SSgt slowly lifted a large metal panel covering the body revealing a large burn on the pilots back. The medic checked carefully the man's neck hoping for a sign of life, he carefully felt around the man charred neck before nodding and confirming he had a pulse. The men sighed in relief as the medic began pulling him out.

"Erik to RHINO 1, pilot is still alive, were gonna get back to the convoy and scoot back to base, give us 10 minutes." whispered SSgt Erik onto the radio as the other men placed him onto a stretcher.

"Roger that, over and out" replied a faint voice on the radio.

The medic sprayed ice spray on the man's back whilst the other men assisted in controlling the bleeding working the best they could with all they had in their medical kits. SSgt Erik looked at the medic gesturing how long it would take with the medic stretching out two fingers in response.

Having done the best they could, they began returning towards the convoy steadily holding the charred pilot who was barely alive towards the convoy with the medic knowing he could only do so much to delay the man's fate if he didn't get to the hospital, fast.

The team arrived back at the convoy after giving the password to the fire team leader in the convoy. "Areas pretty clear but we should get going, don't know what could happen next."

"I know, get the casualty onto the IFV, we're getting the fuck out of this shit hole, lets move." said SSgt Erik quietly as he gestured to the other troops to get back into the vehicles. It wasn't long till they were back on the road driving back twice as fast towards the FOB whilst t the pilots life was on the line.

"RHINO 1 to Rhino Actual, we're returning to the FOB with one casualty, helicopter got shot down by air launched missile, over" said SStg Erik over the radio.

"Err roger that, are you reporting enemy air activity in the area, confirm?" replied the base commander bewildered as he began patching himself to the naval command.

"Affirmative, definitely wasn't a SAM launch. Over" replied SSgt Erik

"Roger that, I'll prepare the doctors, just get the hell back here ASAP and I'll sort out the rest, over and out!"

=============================================
Pripyat International Airport - State of Pripyat - Ukraine

The base commander entered the command centre tent filled with computers and people typing away focused on the flickering screens in the dark green lit room. "Those fuckers took down our support Hind." said the base commander angrily pacing himself to his Major who was second in command. "Those SAM's fully operational?"

"Most of them, they'll be at 100% operational capability within 2 hours." replied the Major hastily as he put down his clipboard.

"Naval Command, ENS Wallenberg to PRIPCOM, receiving you loud and clear, over." spouted out a stationary radio within the tent. The base commander dislodged the headset from the computer quickly placing it above his beret carelessly adjusting the mic.

"PIRPCOM to Naval Command, we've been engaged over the air by Ukrainian units, no Intel was passed on to me regarding the aerial treat of engagement." angrily spouted out the base commander.

"Roger that, relaying information to EASROSCOM, in the meanwhile, standby forces and assume FÖRVILL 2, over." replied the Captain onboard ENS Wallenberg

"Can we get fighters airborne over the airspace, over?"

"Errm, that decisions gotta be made at another level, I'm not authorized to deploy aerial assets for the mission other than fleet defence." replied the Captain. "I'll talk to EASROSCOM regarding the info and see what they say, over and out."

[Eslovakia]

---2 Hours Later---

=============================================
Pripyat International Airport - State of Pripyat - Ukraine

"Naval Command to PRIPCOM, over." blarred the same radio again in the communications tent. The base commander hastily approached the radio picking it up, "Receiving you loud and clear, go ahead, over"

"EASROSCOM has acknowledged new aerial threat over Ukrainian airspace. Air Force has declared the airspace as of now contested which gives you commander the authority to shot down any enroaching aircraft into Pripyat airspace as a whole. said the naval captain on-board ENS Wallenberg reading out a newly printed report he just received from EASROSCOM's HQ in Zinkenstamm

"And additional assets?"

"It says a Squadron of F-35's will be stationed in Pripyat from ENS Skanstull. It's primarily to escort transport aircraft and to act as deterrence." noted the captain. "And the request for a fighter aircraft presence has been denied commander and will only be deployed as an emergency measure directly from naval admiral on ENS Ekterinberg."

"Thank you, captain, over and out."

The base commander walked out of the tent welcomed by a cold breeze as the once bright blue began to descend into darkness. Engineers and technicians ran about setting up lighting and more accommodation in time for the next batch of aid workers who were soon to arrive this week. The humanitarian camp was being set up well ahead of time designed to support 5000 people nearby the airport. So far the day had been going adequately for the base commander as he had completed his scheduled of requirements. His brief moment of daydreaming and peace was brought to a halt as a line of HUMVEES and and IFV's stormed in through the bases main gate immediately halting in front of a pre placed ambulance.

The patrol sent earlier had finally arrived back as they hurried out of the vehicle attending to their severely wounded comrade loading him onto the ambulance. The commander looked on horrified upon the charred body, or what was left of it as he heard faint, painful groans being let out from him. The commander grabbed the stretcher assisting the other men as they slid it in the ambulances compartment before shutting the doors as it sped away towards the field hospital on the other side.

SSgt Erik approached the commander removing his combat helmet and giving a brief salute as the other men and women behind him looked on.

"I understand you guys went through some difficulties, how's the casualty?" asked the commander.

"To be honest with you sir, there's only a slight chance he'll make it, we didn't have the equipment to treat him in time." replied SSgt Erik disappointed. "However, mission objective was completed, we managed to point out some areas that were still inhabited."

"Good, were sending out another patrol tomorrow but with more 'don't-fuck-with-us' fire power looking out for more people, it's imperative we get a proper sense of their location for aid distribution.

Roger that, sir, anything else?" asked SSgt Erik whilst the troops behind fall out driving their HUMVEES into their designated posts.

"Nope, that's all, engineers got the mess hall up, hot dinner is waiting for you guys." said the base commander as he dismissed the Staff Sargent making his way to the field hospital.

=============================================
Eastern Rostil Command - Zinkenstamm - Eslovakia

The general staff sat around the table filling through papers related to the Ukrainians in the large hall as civil servants scurried around running errand all over the offices. Eslovakian Blue Star officials were present which was unusual to have visitors in the highly secretive chambers of eastern Rostil Commmand's hallowed halls.

"Hedmann, as you see for yourself, it's more than a humanitarian operation. Not even a week into it and we've had our first casualties." exclaimed General Magnusson, head of Ukrainian operations.

"I understand general but we must refrain from adding additional weaponr- Hedmann, the Blue Star official was briefly interrupted by the general.

"May I remind you that this is headed by the military and I will take all necessary steps to protect our troops defending your workers. F-35's have already been cleared for Pripyat, I do my work you do yours."

I understand that, general, but I'd rather we didn't provoke." said Hedmann

"You just worry about dishing out aid and we'll worry about relations and security, keep it simple." said the general. "Now if you'll excuse me I have some matter to attend to"

The general took off towards the meeting room swiping his ID card and scanning his fingerprint before entering the large room covered in sound blocking panels and large television screens. The general took his seat at the end of table with several papers and pens lying over the table.

"General Magnusson, we've prepared a responce regarding the incident." said the Air Force general handing over an official document.

The general studied it crossing out certain lines and adding his own in. He gracefully handed it back, "The wounded falcon medal is available to foreign nationals?"

"Yes, the requirements were altered to meet the standards of the Foreign Legion as well as to award Euro Asian soldiers who participated in the same operations as Eslovakians. Considering Mikhails situation, wouldn't he be eligible for Eslovakian citizenship?"

"Nope, otherwise we'd be dishing out free passports to more than 10,000 Euro-Asians had that been the case, "Nordisk av spillt blod" concept only applies to the foreign legion. replied General Magnusson. "The letter is good, have all relevant official sign it and send it off to base commander Larsson in Pripyat to hand it over.

"Will do.

---

Eastern Rostil Command
General Staff on behalf of the Eslovakan Government and the Democratic League

Subject: Condolences to the losses of life

The general staff would like to apologize on behalf of our government and troops offering our utmost condolences in this tragic event to the families affected by the unprovoked attack that occurred earlier on today. We wish to express our deepest apologies also to the government for the loss of fine men in the line of duty working besides our own troops during the time of the incident.

The general staff have concluded that the intentions and aims of the airmen who lost their lives as well as the one who remains in a critical condition were all for the greater good and wish to present the Wounded Falcon Medal to the wounded airman and posthumously award 3 more the ceased airmen.

Should you have any enquiries or require any further information, please do contact Base Commander Larsson who will be at your services to assist you.

Yours Faithfully

General Staff of Eastern Rostil Command on behalf of the Democratic League and the Eslovakian Government

[Birkaine]

Ukrainian-Birkainan Border
Northern Border Zone

After so many years of silence, the enormous train broke through the border and, more symbolically, broke through the indifference of Birkaine to the critical situation of its neighbor. Propelled by two ungainly, geometrical locomotives, an extensive train measuring a mile and a half and made up of hundreds of freight cars crossed over.

The border had in itself the scars of many years of shifting history. Large but derelict highways had been built in the era of the colossal Communist International that stretched from the mountainous passes of Birkaine's Molonssk Oblast to the distant steppes of Russian Siberia in the biggest empire Rostil had seen, built by the hand and blood of the proletariat. Long gone was the era of the International, buried by the era of Birkanian Girenkist fascism. That era had left its own mark in the border, certainly more radical, in how huge fences had been erected on both sides of a trench-like no man's land separating both states, with checkpoints and a large communications tower dominating the area, separating the communists from the facists and clearly cleaving off the highways that had once connected them. The railway (that had also once extended to Siberia) had only recently been rebuilt by the Birkanians to transport some relief during the swift and brutal invasion of the Ukraine by the northern Russo Spanish armies, while all other rail lines had been bombed out within Ukrainian territory. Through the lone lifeline in northern Birkaine, close to the coast, hundreds of tons of relief and aid had gone eastbound and hundreds of thousands of refugees had come the other way, tearing down the once-fortified border and leaving nothing but a wake of ruin and military wreckage on one side of the border, and large tent cities and refugee camps on the other side. On the windows of the freight train, the silent ravages of war could be clearly seen; armies that had been laid waste to strewn across the cratered countryside, by now mostly overgrown with weeds and bushes, but still noticeable. The larger structures such as radio towers or power transmission lines were all either collapsed or limply hanging from their derelict, rusting frames.

Several small villages rapidly passed by the passengers of the train's first wagons, a set of eight passenger cars. Either walled out or abandoned, the abandoned towns that hadn't been abandoned under the threat of banditry and starvation separated several outposts from the only thing that showed any signs of order in the whole ravaged grey and brown countryside. Small, ragtag-looking groups of soldiers held position in machinegun nests or muddy foxholes dug into the barren plains. The equipment was completely obsolete, communications were nonexistent, conditions and hygiene made even the hardened survivalists inside the train squirm with discomfort. And yet they held their positions despite that it seemed like they would be less miserable if they turned to pillaging for surviving. The Ukrainian soldiers were apparently organized in such a way that their lines or sight and firing arcs covered most of the Birkanian train's path to protect it from ambushes by the many bandits in the area, an important show of faith from an army that barely had the resources to mobilize anything. Combined with the powerful ZU-23-2 anti-aircraft guns mounted in flatbeds walled by sandbags that the train used for self-defense, the poorly-equipped Ukrainian infantry complement managed to prevent any attacker from halting the train until it got to the vincinities of Simferopol, where the defenses were somewhat more hardened as several old tanks could be seen pointing their guns away from the city, motionless to save fuel.

Onboard the few passenger trains that came behind one of the anti-air flatbeds but ahead of the hundreds of cargo and fuel cars, a group of Birkanian officers were finishing their dinners. It was nothing lavish, as they were of those who took pride in giving up the luxuries of the officers and living like soldiers, at least when they came to the battlefield, and Grazeyev considered Ukraine to be quite the battlefield. Thus, the dinner consisted simply of canned meat similar to those that were carried by the thousands in the rear cars of the train. Grazeyev ate his dinner in the somewhat dimly lit passenger car alongside 16 other men and women, half of whom were officers and the other half were Spetsnaz infantrymen tasked with protecting the officers. The table was completely surrounded by crates and bags packed to the brim with equipment, ranging from tactical radios to satellite transceivers, chairs, tables, large rolls of camouflage tents, observation devices and some firearms, most of which were strewn across the table alongside combat knives. The car was rather cramped, and the equipment seemed to spill into the table, and it constantly had to be pushed back.

"Cherdenka" General Grazeyev spoke up loud, as he always did, looking at another of the officers. He seemed to give everything a jolly tone, as if he was strangely enjoying whatever situation he found himself in. "Your father was a photographer, wasn't he? As well as your father's father."

"Yes, General." A woman several seats away replied over the muttering of the other officers and soldiers, finishing her meal. There were no impeccable black uniforms or golden insignias or medals, just camouflaged fatigues, combat jackets and mostly field caps, save for Grazeyev who still had his decorated peak cap on. "All of them photographers from the very beginning, while everyone else was trying to make cameras work by banging them with rocks, my great-grandparent was making art."

"And how are you with the camera?" Grazeyev asked, wiping his mouth with a rag. "Are you good or did the legacy end with you?"

"I'm not a master but the legacy didn't die, my brother's the master." Grazeyev's subordinate replied, a black-haired woman of small stature and athletic traits who led a battalion of the Birkanian Army Engineers. "But I can still take real photograps, which is more than what can be said for most people."

"That's good, we're going to need that." The general noted, and then repeated himself.

"What we need is some MSRs, not photographies for the souvenirs."

"No, I don't give a damn about the souvenirs." The general said with a cackle. "The photos are not for me. I don't need to see anything to convince myself of helping good General Valashnar. But I'm sure a good bunch of pencil pushers and bureaucrats in the high command would need to see all of this." He said, pointing his finger out the window and signalling at several of the Ukrainian positions and the hungry, young soldiers who looked like they weren't old enough to have graduated out of highscool, nevermind hold their rifles. "I hear there's a bunch of clowns back on the other side of the border who are trying to put obstacles into this thing. They say that the Ukrainians don't really deserve our help after getting defeated by the royalist Estainians or something. Well I say look at those guys, they look like they haven't eaten in days and are drinking from mud puddles and they hold position anyways. I say there's more Birkanian in those poor bastards out there than in all of the jokers in the Logistical Office put together."

"Good point general." Colonel Lyudmilla Cherdenka replied with a nod, after the whole crew of the car had stopped their own conversations to curiously listen to what the General was saying. "I'll make sure to get some good shots out there, should pull the strings of the other generals without much problem."

"That's what I'm saying." The general smiled, rubbing his prominent belly.

'Sir, unindentified aircraft spotted. Helicopter gunship at heading 015, steady altitude at 1500m, distance 4500m'

The radio came to life, ending the conversation between the officers. Outside of the passenger wagon, in the flatbed cars, the 8 ZU-23 guns swiveled in unison and brought their powerful cannons to bear on the distant aircraft that buzzed slightly below the cloud cover. The operators of the AA guns pressed several buttons on the control consoles of the modernized 1960's weapons, causing them to generate a lock and automatically track the enemy helicopter, keeping them on their infrared TV sights. The rest of the soldiers and the officers grouped up near the windows of the train and looked on at the aircraft with binoculars. While the men could only see a small black dot in the distance, the AA operators got a much clearer image through the powerful optics of their weaponry, identifying the distant helicopter as an old Mi-24.

'It's a flying tank sir' The AA operator informed through the radio.

"Valashnar doesn't have any of those." Grazeyev noted, still trying to get a good look at the helicopter. "You sure it doesn't look like ours?"

'Negative, sir'

"Don't fire at it. Except if we are fired upon, that is, if that happens then demolish that thing" He said through his radio, then took another that was strapped to his utility belt, and told the machinist of the train to lower his speed so that if they were hit by munitions from the helicopter, the train wouldn't derail and cause further damage. The tension slowly mounted up as the train lowered its speed to nearly a crawl and the anti-aircraft guns kept their solid locks on the unindentified helicopter, that did not seem to be following an attack course.
After some minutes, however, the helicopter simply disappeared in a poof of smoke just while it was in the telescopic gunsights of the ZU-23 guns. It then proceeded to fall back to the ground in pieces, causing quite a conmotion in the train, as General Grazeyev thought the shooting down had been the product of one of his own guns. However, after some minutes, all anti-aircraft positions confirmed that they had fired no missiles at it.

"Seems like the moment we get in is the moment where people decide to start shooting" Grazeyev said, putting down his binoculars, and then adressed the comms detail of the train. "Tell Valashnar that we just witnessed an aircraft getting shot down, ask him if he has a clearer image of the situation"

The train, under the threat of uncertainity as to what had happened with the helicopter or in fact what was happening with the battlefield at large as they had little radio access to the larger-scale intelligence services of the Birkanian military, continued towards Simferopol very slowly, lenghtening the trip by several tense hours where the AA guns continued to scan the skies for any hostile -as Valashnar himself lacked aircraft- contact above the clouds. However, the lower speed of the train had now allowed the people inside to get a closer look of their surroundings, noticing that the spread out small detachments of Ukrainian soldiers around them were still holding their positions but appeared to be more active, reinforcing their trenches and foxholes while regrouping into larger units while receiving instructions from messengers or their commanding officers. Tanks on the meantime were starting to get their engines fired up, belching large clouds of smoke in the process. Whatever was happening, someone had given the order to finally ready up.

When the lenghty train comprised of two locomotives, 4 armed cars, 4 passenger cars 185 two-level freight cars and 51 fuel cars with 9000 gallons of diesel or a similar volume of natural gas; arrived to Simferopol, the passengers were at first to see the relative good state of the city. They had already seen images and satellite photographies of the city in their briefings before leaving Birkaine but nevertheless the impression of the completely ravaged cities like Kiyiv had stuck with them more, and thus they were expecting a completely desolate landscape. Instead, the city they saw was largely undamaged with only an odd collapsed building every now and then in the traditionally communist architecture of the city, whose buildings stood immovably in the grey scenery alongside the rusting icons of the ancient regime. Several concentric rings of anti-aircraft defenses ranging from large Krug and Kub SAM systems to anti-aircraft guns similar to those of the train and even general-purpose machineguns guarded the outer perimeter of the city alongside tanks and towed anti-tank weaponry. Whatever structural damage the city hadn't suffered, however, was more than made up in the damage it had made in its inhabitants, more psychological than physical and in several ways, worse. The faces that looked onto the slowing-down train from the derelict buildings only looked slightly less dead than those of the ones that had been more unfortunate. The ghastly sights of the cemetery-like city extended throughout the whole path of the train until it stopped in an extensive rail yard that was mostly bombed out. The train came to a halt with a loud hiss from its multiple sets of hydraulic brakes and finally the locomotive turned off, ending the continuous roar of the enormous diesel engines that were powerful enough to move the thousands of tons of cargo that were meant to start putting Simferopol back into shape, or at least its armies. However, even in the soul-sucking desperation that could be felt vibrating uncomfortably in the air, the arrival of the train, marked with imposing Birkanian insignias, was at least a collective psychological relief. For once there was tangible hope. Not only were hundreds of thousands of gallons of fuel and many tons of food brought into Simferopol in the many cars but also some adequate division-level communications equipment, some medical supplies and most importantly, several water purification units and the technicians required to assemble and operate them.

Known to little other than Valashnar himself, the train was actually only one of four that had been dispatched by the Birkanian central command after General Grazeyev's succesful petition for the top command to allow an intervention of Ukraine in favor of the Simferopolan stratocracy. The other three more heavily-armed trains were much smaller and had stopped not too deep into Ukrainian territory, yet it could be said that they were performing a much more vital role: they had transported many pieces of heavy construction equipment to the areas where the railways had been destroyed by heavy Estainian bombardment, alongside the hundreds of workers and contractors experienced in fixing damaged lines in mainland Birkaine. The trains came to a halt a few hundred meters away from the cratered areas and disembarked small complements of soldiers that helped bring out the heavier equipment, though protection was still largely in charge of the Ukrainian forces nearby. With military efficiency, the engineers set out to evaluate the damage while replacement rails were unloaded by a crane. It was obvious that the engineers sent to conduct the repairs had no interest in the rest of Ukraine as they only conducted assesment of the rail lines conducting to Simferopol, ignoring the potential lifelines of other cities that were within earshot. With three extra railways operative, thousands of tons of aid could be shipped to Simferopol from Birkaine's strategic reserve depots.

While the cargo that arrived to Simferopol enormous in bulk, the limited contents of the freight train implied a hard choice that was outside of Grazeyev's responsability to take, someone would have to decide who was going to keep hungry at the end of the day: the large armed contingent or the civilians. Such thoughts were what Grazeyev contemplated as he stepped out of the passenger car, following the armed infantrymen, took a deep breath and stretched his legs while the AA gunners aimed their guns directly up to avoid being too threatening to the locals.

"Well now" He said, putting on black leather gloves and adjusting the furry lapels of his jacket. He adressed the Simferopolan general, who was waiting for him -as were many other Ukrainians- in the platform of the rail yard, looking like he wasn't there for welcoming but rather to get things out of the train and into his city as soon as possible. "Valashnar, what kind of hospitality is this? Helicopter pieces rained down on top of our heads as soon as we arrived. That's bad for tourism, you know that?" He said with a laugh while his cadre of officers looked at each other, surprised at that the general could joke in such a situation.