Operation Catherine [closed, Vorindun, LG, Unilisia]

[Libertarian Governance]

The LGDF wasted no time in deploying their planes. The first to arrive in Vorindun were high flying hypersonic StormShadow bombers. Arrive may have been a relative term as the aircraft reached launch points some 1200 kilometers from the enemy held cities of Sabinum and Pertinax. What the 200 bombers launched were 2400 Seahag hypersonic missiles. Weapons that flew high enough in the atmosphere to be safely out of reach of most air defense weaponry, yet could execute pinpoint attacks on enemy targets.

The weapons were a lethal mix of Seahags carrying electronic warfare payloads programmed to activate their jammers in a cascade that would hopefully keep the jamming up the entire time of their less than eight minute flight from launch to impact. There were nearly 600 Seahag armed with SWARM B decoy warheads that dispensed a total of 9600 false targets for the defenders to sort through during that short flight. Then there were the strike weapons, 1000 lbs warheads to go after runways, armor piecing warheads to go after command and control facilities as well as bunkers, barracks and hangers, cluster munitions for the aircraft and missile launchers on the ground and SWARM warheads, brilliant weapons that could glide over the battlefield and autonomously pick apart armor and artillery all with a terminal phase speed greater than mach 4 and the dispersal of chaff and flares as the weapons fell towards their target.

The planes immediately turned back towards Urstanian Governance after launch leaving the enemy less then eight minutes to deal with their attack. About 45 minutes later the first Chimera squadron arrived in Flavium, the first of some 400 aircraft detailed to the area. Each plane was fully armed with air to air loads and required only fuel to be ready to conduct air to air operations.

Elsewhere in Flavium a lone man approached a checkpoint. He stood 6'1" in height and had a greying beard and mustache. He wore a black watch cap on his head as well as a headset with a mic just in front of his lower lip. The black BDUs he wore were totally devoid of insiginia or rank. He walked towards the soldiers with his hands held palms out at about shoulder height. The quick draw holster on his right thigh was empty as was the scabbard under it. The tactical vest he wore had six magazine pouches along in abdomen and each one contained a 50 round coffin magazine for a Shrec AWS. Though except for seven pistol magazines at various places along the holster and his utility belt the man did not carry a weapon, at least not visibly.

Smiling and making a slight nod with his head as he approached. Hello there. I am Colonel Casius Lee of the Free Republic of Libertarian Governance. I believe your superiors are expecting me and my men.

He must of saw the questioning look on the men at the checkpoint because he smiled again. Right. Don't be alarmed. Turning slightly towards his rear he placed two fingers into his mouth and produced a loud whistle. They will be along shortly.

A moment later a SUV slowly rounded the corner and slowly approached the checkpoint. It stop some 30 feet away with the engine still running. In all seven similarly attired men exited the vehicle. These did have weapons, in their thigh holsters though the assault rifles they carried were left in the car. None approached the checkpoint but one couple did wave to the troops.

[The Vorindun]

The first warning that the Vorindun Air Force got was the actual destruction of a significant portion of its SAM batteries, air strips, and three entire air wings, mostly on the ground. Men burnt to a crisp and ran screaming out into the open, their bodies ablaze. Legions III, X, and XIV were decimated by the air strikes, making the damage to the Army equally bad to that of the Air Force. Tanks, APCs, artillery pieces, barracks, etc. were all in seriously bad shape.

The Commissar for War lost his lunch after reading the casualty reports: a minimum of 75,000 airmen and 28,000 legionaries killed or wounded from Sabinum alone, with the death and injury toll from Pertinax being 44,000 airmen and 17,000 legionaries. This was almost certainly a conservative estimate, too, as not all information could be confirmed. This was just among the armed forces. Civilian casualties were presumably just as staggering, though he hadn't bothered to check those stats just yet.

To make matters worse, there were now reports of the negative effects of the hits on the fuel depots. Rationing and shortages had led to spikes in the price of fuel and lines to receive it. The economy slowed to a crawl and many trade unionists threatened to strike. While strikes were banned, the central government's authority had already been undermined. What was one more law broken by the populace?

Riots had broken out in some sectors of Sabinum already and fears of this spreading to Pertinax grew with each report from the secret police. Yes, this was a serious emergency and it would only get worse.

Just hours after the raids, the prefect of Sabinum committed suicide and had to be replaced. A definite Party hack was put into place to help crack down on the "subversive elements" in the civilian population.

This would be a very long war, the Commissar feared....and God alone knew the likely outcome.

[The Vorindun]

Lieutenant Klaas DeVries wasn't a normal Vorindun Imperial naval officer. He was naval intelligence, of course, and had been since losing his left arm at the Battle of Lehman Beach in New Olwe. He had been a corpsman at the time, with the rank of petty officer. A prosthetic and a commission later, and he was a rising star in the security services of the Fatherland. For the purposes of this contact, he was code-named Hook. He was the liaison to this operation from the Kaiser's side.

The naval intel officer was also odd due to his Dutch ancestry, most out of place in a country where the largest minority was Roman, followed by the Germans. Being the punctual sort himself, he was pleased at the prompt arrival of his guests.

"Not ones to be fashionably late, I can see. Welcome to the Fatherland. I am Hook, of course," he stood in a "Border Guards" uniform, but everything about him put the lie to that facade.

His Dutch accent would also help through people off....at least in English.

[Libertarian Governance]

High on the superstructure of the supercarrier Abydos, Rear Admiral Ray Merkle's flagship in this operation, the admiral sat at a small table covered by a white tablecloth. Next to him sat his executive officer, Commander Joseph Clarke. Another man stood off to the side with a white napkin hung over his left arm. There were several dishes of food upon the table the centerpiece being a stewed beef smothered in peppers and onions. There was a stack of fried sweet bread, a treasure from the indigenous tribes of Libertarian Governance called simply fry bread as well as a plate of grated cheeses, a bowl of tomato salsa, a plate of corn sauteed in butter, chopped lettuce and a strawberry pie covered with chocolate.

Taking a heaping spoon of meat and laying it into a folded piece of flat bread, Clarke continued his creation with spoons of cheese, salsa and corn. Then he took a bite, then a second and a third. You know Ray, the missile strike seems to have hit home.

The admiral held a tablet computer in his left hand and a glass of brandy in his right. The crisp sea air whipped around them, though the superstructure shielded the men from the worse of it which gave their location a certain bit of serenity.

I want to land our troops to assist these rioters. Deny them this area and use it to push deeper into the country.

According to the reports the Chimera are still a few hours from being able to conduct air to ground ops. Transport planes are still arriving but we could probably get something going just before dawn.

Seems the enemy puts a lot of faith in these static defenses of theirs along the coast. Good Joe. Have the fleet prepare for landing, dispatch to carrier battle groups and the transports. The Chimera at Flavium will run the wild weasel missions, get rid of their remaining air defense. Then let the cruisers show them the stupidity of that faith. Raising the glass admiral Merkle takes a drink of his brandy before looking at the information on his computer again. You seem to be enjoying your tacos.

Alawis Tacos are one of my favorite foods from childhood.

A good meal. Michael here is an exceptional chef. Well worth the Gold Coin I pay him. Laying the computer on the table Ray makes his own taco and takes a bite before returning to the conversation. Liberty is keen on making a serious example out of these nazi.

How so?

Lot's of Bureau 24 detailed for these guys. Phoenix Strike and even Medusa. Our targa are going to have a sack full of them.

Some of their methods... Joe stops the thought abruptly as he looks out over the water. It is a beautiful evening. What do you think of our new allies?

Admiral Merkle answers with a shrug of his shoulders and a slight frown on his face which elicits a chuckle from the XO. Good fighters from the intel.

Joe, its like the peace with commies and their ilk. You know, slavery is our war. So, any anti-slaver is welcomed with open arms.

And their past sins are forgiven just like that?

Stratton could care less. No, no it is rabid dogs like the Patricius that they want. Others like the Unilisians can be dealt with with trade and diplomacy. I guess...

You don't sound convinced Ray.

I don't know. Hard to believe a leopard ever changes its spots. But who knows. They say combat can build brotherhood and friendships like nothing else. We will soon see.

[Allanea]

Flavium airfield

The cargo plane descended gradually, like a giant, pregnant animal mammal with a distended belly. It bounced slightly when it hit the simple, unpaved runway, and then continued downwards to its end, the howl of its engines gradually reducing to a stable drone. Finally it taxied off the runway and powered down. The ramp began to open with an ominous hum, and, within minutes, the first Allanean infantrymen were deploying onto Vorindun soil.

Even as the first aircraft was still unloading, other planes just like it began to descend towards their respective runways, and soon the airfield teemed with men in digital camouflage and broad-brimmed military hates, working at a feverish pace to unload more and more weapons, tools, and equipment.

Dodging between the loading gear and military vehicles came an open-topped jeep, with an woman with raven-black hair, wearing a general's uniform, standing behind the driver's seat. She saluted the Vorindun toops as the vehicle approached them.

“Greetings! Brigadier-General Aisha Gray, West Axackal Mechanized Infantry division here. We're going to be landing more soon. “

*

Allanean Fleet

The Allanean ships picked up speed once more, moving ahead towards the enemy shore. They were ordered to stop at a position about 1,500 kilometers from the shore, but it would take some time until they got there. In the meanwhile, they simply pushed on.

Far above them, more squadrons of atomic-powered bombers crossed another ocean – that of the air. Once more, Hellion missiles were launched – this time a greater number, now 1,000, once more aimed at the air bases around the enemy capital. With the success of the previous attack, the Allaneans now had less targets to strike – and intended to strike the survivors with more missiles.

*

Allanean Fleet, offices of Army General Elros Thanafiel

Army General Elros Thanafiel was, of course, an elf. But he was also an Allanean elf, and frankly had more in common with his neighbors than he had with his blood-kin in elven nations. Although he did not make the full use of the privilege of Allanean generals (under Allanean law, they did not have to wear the uniform of their office), a single glance at the black tunnels in the lower corner of his ears would show he was no typical member of the species.

He had already heard of the exploits of Severina, the Olwean Operative that had brought the count's message to friendly lines, and had ordered her flown to the the Allanean fleet. The bravery of the operative was such that the general felt he had to meet her.

“Very well, my good friend,” - he spoke – “I have read the Count's message. He seems to have great respect for your work. Tell me, madam, is it true that you have indeed rescued many of my kin from slavery?”

[Unilisia]

Steaming forth across the seas, the Unilisian fleet was finally within sight of the Vorindun shoreline, and they likewise could see the harbor at Flavium. It seemed the Allaneans had already arrived, with planes flying to and fro over the fleet, presumably to the air base and back.

The first troop carrier slid into port, its enormous black hull eerily casting off a dark shadow. The captain hailed the port masters headquarters, expecting directions to a specific area of the harbor to unload the five thousand soldiers of the Sanguinis Guard awaiting within, weapons ready, armor prepared, and minds already thinking about the taste of blood they'd been denied for so long.

Further off-shore sat the two carriers, preparing several high atmosphere bombers for launch. Once the go ahead was received, the six planes shot off the deck one after the other and split into pairs, two going to Pertinax, two to Maximeum, and the other two to the Olwean enclave.

[The Vorindun]

[quote="Allanea";p="10164365"]Flavium airfield

The cargo plane descended gradually, like a giant, pregnant animal mammal with a distended belly. It bounced slightly when it hit the simple, unpaved runway, and then continued downwards to its end, the howl of its engines gradually reducing to a stable drone. Finally it taxied off the runway and powered down. The ramp began to open with an ominous hum, and, within minutes, the first Allanean infantrymen were deploying onto Vorindun soil.

Even as the first aircraft was still unloading, other planes just like it began to descend towards their respective runways, and soon the airfield teemed with men in digital camouflage and broad-brimmed military hates, working at a feverish pace to unload more and more weapons, tools, and equipment.

Dodging between the loading gear and military vehicles came an open-topped jeep, with an woman with raven-black hair, wearing a general's uniform, standing behind the driver's seat. She saluted the Vorindun toops as the vehicle approached them.

“Greetings! Brigadier-General Aisha Gray, West Axackal Mechanized Infantry division here. We're going to be landing more soon. “

"Legatus Alaric Vadomar, Legio IX, Army of the North. I have just been appointed Procurator of the Northeast, Supreme Military Governor for the Region, by none other than the Kaiser himself. Let me assure you that all Vorindun forces in this region are loyal to the Kaiser. There were those who were disloyal, but they no longer exist. Military discipline has corrected that problem.

"I look forward to fighting alongside you, if there is to be any fighting left. I imagine there will be, as some other sectors are not as fortunate in their officers as we are. This territory is now under martial-law, as will all other areas to come under our control in the near future. That part is simply necessary.

"You have this area at your disposal as you need, and at the moment, in military affairs I have instructions to yield to your commands as senior co-commander in the field. I will have my adjutant see to the housing, feeding, etc. of your troops.

"I hope that we can launch an offensive soon. The sooner we do, the shorter this war will be, I believe," Vadomar briefed the the Allanean general.

It was odd to salute and obey a woman, but Vadomar had done stranger things. And he had seen female officers...in New Olwe, at the head of Olwean troops, especially at Lehman Beach, when they fought the mad dogs from New Nick....oh, those men were lunatics, fanatics, just like some of the fools from the Fatherland Front, come to think of it.

Vadomar was tall and brawny...blonde, blue-eyed, and tanned....a typical Ostrogoth, in fact. He was also, like most of his people, a devout Arian Christian. That didn't mean that he approved of the illegal regime in Maximeum, just because the Patricius was a fellow Goth and Arian.

"The more troops you send, the better off we'll be."

[The Vorindun]

"So, the war is lost, then," the Patricius demanded candor this time. He was bit morose and drunk, and now was the best time to confront him with reality, because he might actually listen to it...tomorrow, the bipolar head of state was likely to be back to his manic self.

"Yes, Patricius, it is lost. I have launched Operation Seraphim, as you have commanded, but with only a third of our former air wings operational, not to mention lack of intelligence resources available, this could well backfire. Either way, absent a miracle, the war is lost," Air Marshal Heinrich Waldemar assured his boss. Like many of the Germans who dominated the Air Force, his loyalties were already in doubt. Natural affinity for the House of Handelhoff made them suspect to the Ostrogoths who composed the majority of the Fatherland Front, both in the Grand Council (the highest governing body of the Front), the "elected" Senate (Front candidates elected without opposition), and in the State and War Councils, the chief executive organs of the regime.

"Corporal Felix, kill the Air Marshal! Shoot him! He is a defeatist!" First Deputy Chair Genseric Barbatio demanded. Barbatio was an even worse fanatic than Marinus.

The Patrician Guardsman made no move. His branch of service was the chief security organization in the regime, and as its name indicated, it reported only to the Patricius himself. It even took a personal oath to him.

"I am afraid, Comrade First Deputy Chair, that your orders are meaningless to him. You are not Patricius, now or ever. Kill Barbatio, Corporal. He has been planning a putsch, haven't you, Gens?" Marinus smiled like the Grim Reaper himself.

"Yes, Patricius!" Felix followed his orders with extreme prejudice, shooting the traitor with his Uzi, by far his favorite gun. More than a few shots poured into the man's body.

"Proceed with Operation Seraphim to your best, Air Marshal. If we must go out, let it not be a with a whimper, but with a bang! You are dismissed!"

With that, the Air Marshal and his comrades left for the hangars....he would go out like an ace at last. No standing and waiting for the total destruction that the Air Force surely faced....he would go down dog fighting to the end. It was doomed, but he would die with it.....not be cashiered or executed for a failure that wasn't his fault...

Thirty minutes later, the Vorindun's F-15 Eagles and B-52 bombers flew toward the foe....facing an enemy they still knew not at all....it was suicidal blindness, but they had no other choice, save surrender. In all probability, the Air Force would be annihilated tonight....leaving the skies in the hands of enemy pilots. The war would be over very soon indeed, and not likely in favor of the regime.

[The Vorindun]

Steaming forth across the seas, the Unilisian fleet was finally within sight of the Vorindun shoreline, and they likewise could see the harbor at Flavium. It seemed the Allaneans had already arrived, with planes flying to and fro over the fleet, presumably to the air base and back.

The first troop carrier slid into port, its enormous black hull eerily casting off a dark shadow. The captain hailed the port masters headquarters, expecting directions to a specific area of the harbor to unload the five thousand soldiers of the Sanguinis Guard awaiting within, weapons ready, armor prepared, and minds already thinking about the taste of blood they'd been denied for so long.

Further off-shore sat the two carriers, preparing several high atmosphere bombers for launch. Once the go ahead was received, the six planes shot off the deck one after the other and split into pairs, two going to Pertinax, two to Maximeum, and the other two to the Olwean enclave.

"Signal the Unilisians. We'll use Morse code for now. It will have to do, given the chaotic state of our comm links at the moment. We're expecting the Sanguinis Guard, I believe. I must warn you, kameraden, that these troopers are....unusual in the Unilisian manner. They're not quite human, I believe. We need them and I won't deprive our allies of a four-course meal if that meal happens to be roast slaver or slaver blood. I'm not sure which. Carry out your orders, patres. For the Kaiser and the Fatherland!" Rear Admiral Gottfried von Stransky commanded his staff, dock officers, and skippers. This was a critical moment indeed, and much was left to do.

With Unilisia here, as well as Allanea and LG, the war was as good as won....eventually. That didn't make it a short or easy war, just a victorious outcome....at probably a very high price.

The necessary instructions were sent and the Unilisians would now know where to land. Of course, with any luck, their aircraft had already begun to penetrate Vorindun airspace and rain judgment on the heretics who dared to enslave their fellows among God's sapient creation. As a pious Lutheran, Stransky never questioned the wisdom of the Lord....His ways were better and if He chose to make Elves, then so be it. It wasn't for Man to hate, oppress, or enslave them. He had his duty to God and country, and that he would do....

[Olwean Renaissance]

Allanean Fleet, offices of Army General Elros Thanafiel

Army General Elros Thanafiel was, of course, an elf. But he was also an Allanean elf, and frankly had more in common with his neighbors than he had with his blood-kin in elven nations. Although he did not make the full use of the privilege of Allanean generals (under Allanean law, they did not have to wear the uniform of their office), a single glance at the black tunnels in the lower corner of his ears would show he was no typical member of the species.

He had already heard of the exploits of Severina, the Olwean Operative that had brought the count's message to friendly lines, and had ordered her flown to the the Allanean fleet. The bravery of the operative was such that the general felt he had to meet her.

“Very well, my good friend,” - he spoke – “I have read the Count's message. He seems to have great respect for your work. Tell me, madam, is it true that you have indeed rescued many of my kin from slavery?”[/quote]

Feeling humbled in the presence of a truly great soldier and Elf, Severina blushed and stammered,"I have only done what needed done, sir. It is my duty as an Olwean to preserve the liberty of all people, human and Elf alike. It is simply that the latter, your race, are the ones whose liberty is at stake. Even so, I have been taught that when some are enslaved, all are enslaved, that a blow to the liberty of some is one against the liberty of all. I only wish that I could have done more for that cause, sir."

Severina felt that her own acts were still insufficient, as long as she wasn't able to prevent of the enslavement of any person, human or Elf. Granted, she was an agent first, but this part of the job was the most morally satisfying that she had ever known. The frustrating part was that she couldn't be omnipresent and stop it all......no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't save them all.

[Unilisia]

Steaming forth across the seas, the Unilisian fleet was finally within sight of the Vorindun shoreline, and they likewise could see the harbor at Flavium. It seemed the Allaneans had already arrived, with planes flying to and fro over the fleet, presumably to the air base and back.

The first troop carrier slid into port, its enormous black hull eerily casting off a dark shadow. The captain hailed the port masters headquarters, expecting directions to a specific area of the harbor to unload the five thousand soldiers of the Sanguinis Guard awaiting within, weapons ready, armor prepared, and minds already thinking about the taste of blood they'd been denied for so long.

Further off-shore sat the two carriers, preparing several high atmosphere bombers for launch. Once the go ahead was received, the six planes shot off the deck one after the other and split into pairs, two going to Pertinax, two to Maximeum, and the other two to the Olwean enclave.

"Signal the Unilisians. We'll use Morse code for now. It will have to do, given the chaotic state of our comm links at the moment. We're expecting the Sanguinis Guard, I believe. I must warn you, kameraden, that these troopers are....unusual in the Unilisian manner. They're not quite human, I believe. We need them and I won't deprive our allies of a four-course meal if that meal happens to be roast slaver or slaver blood. I'm not sure which. Carry out your orders, patres. For the Kaiser and the Fatherland!" Rear Admiral Gottfried von Stransky commanded his staff, dock officers, and skippers. This was a critical moment indeed, and much was left to do.

With Unilisia here, as well as Allanea and LG, the war was as good as won....eventually. That didn't make it a short or easy war, just a victorious outcome....at probably a very high price.

The necessary instructions were sent and the Unilisians would now know where to land. Of course, with any luck, their aircraft had already begun to penetrate Vorindun airspace and rain judgment on the heretics who dared to enslave their fellows among God's sapient creation. As a pious Lutheran, Stransky never questioned the wisdom of the Lord....His ways were better and if He chose to make Elves, then so be it. It wasn't for Man to hate, oppress, or enslave them. He had his duty to God and country, and that he would do....

The carrier came to a stop at the dock, its deck soon teeming with soldiers, embarking down the gangways towards dry land and marching in lines down to the city itself. The Sanguinis Guards were top notch; trained for most of their lives till they had achieved the peak of fitness, loyalty, and of course, a sense of humble savagery necessary when dealing with Unilisia's most despicable enemies. Their skin was almost pure white, veins and arteries easily seen on their bulky and toned arms and neck, seen as they walked, their headdresses and scarlet red coats moving shuffling as they marched. Although far more ornate than was custom, their armor was fully combat capable, with woven in kevlar and under-matting to protect against small arms and melee weapons such as knives or hatchets. Their gloves were thick leather, the tips of the fingers hardened metal that locked with their real fingertips to allow a far more vicious slash than normal. Their boots were cleated, sharp and prepared like a meat mashing hammer for both rugged terrain and murdering weak humans with a kick to the chest.

All in all, they were built for one purpose; killing. And as they marched towards the Flavium harbor to meet up with the Allaneans, the thoughts of the bloody conflict to come excited them to no ends, salivation and grins seen all along the columns of soldiers.

[Allanea]

Allanean Fleet, offices of Army General Elros Thanafiel

Elros Thanafiel smiled broadly. - “”You wish to do more for my kin? Then this will be done. I offer you no less than a chance to free thousands.”

He got up, pacing his chambers excitedly - “You should know that there are within the Allanean Armed Forces personnel with training such as your own, except perhaps more specialized, men and women of varying races, dedicated to the cause of freedom. They are organized in what is known as the Prison Liberation Units, but the name is not quite accurate: their key task is to liberate slaves and prisoners from plantations, labor camps, and so forth. They have carried out dozens of successful operations the world over, and even once kidnapped the ruler of a slaver state.”

“Several of these Prison Liberation Units are even now on their way to Vorindun. The war, as you know, is practically over, and frankly the conclusion has been understood from the very moment the orders had been issued for this fleet to sail. We outgun the slaver at such a terrible ratio that it is not conceivable that they can resist our onslaught.” - the elf general raised his finger - “But we have concerns.”

“We do not have sufficient information on the conditions in which the elf slaves are being kept. The more you can tell us about the slave camps located near the Olwean borders, the easier it will be for us to act. The best thing would be to disorganize the guards there, leading to massive breakouts.” - the elf smiled once more, but then his expression grew sternly. - “This is a mission of high importance. I am sure you can comprehend the danger for these poor souls as the slavers begin to grow desperate.”

Off Flavium

The Allanean division was now preparing for its offensive. Its vehicles were being fueled and armed, helicopters preparing at their launch stations, air defense vehicles taking up their positions. Reconnaissance teams were already deploying, their tiny UAVs buzzing through the air searching for the enemy.

And then, suddenly...

“Air alert! Air alert!”

Immediately everything changes. Infantry run from their vehicles towards cover. The long-range SAMs elevate into position, preparing to fire at the incoming enemy. Long-range missiles scream out towards their targets first, fifty-six in number. Their targets are the B-52s, the larges and most obvious enemy aircraft. Then, the medium range SAMs kick in – 144, a full gross, forty-four aimed at the B-52s, and the rest at the enemy fighter jets. The short-range SAMs prepare to fire at the survivors, even as target-sharing apparatus is engaged, informing the Unilisians of the enemy's approach.

[Libertarian Governance]

The LGDF was in the midst of preparing their own series of airstrikes to eliminate the remaining enemy air defenses around Sabinum and Pertinax when the air raid sirens sounded. Pilots scrambled to the aircraft many of which were sitting ready on the runways prepared for missions. The fleet AWACS had a clear view of air and ground activity several hundred kilometers into the country and thus their was sometime to get jets off the ground.

Ten batteries of MARS SAMS with a total of 40 launchers were ready as the enemy planes approached. Each begin firing their long range interceptors at the approaching air force. A squadron of the Fleet combat air patrol was vectored to intercept points where they would use their long range Spectre BVRAAM on the enemy air craft. Simultaneously, Chimera and Valkyrie that made it into the air were being directed to do the same. While most of the LGDF aircraft maximized their low observable designs by flying with their radars off, each wing leader flew with his AESA radar active and scanning for targets. This would allow each of the aircraft to pick targets off the combat network, each to see a full picture of the battlefield.

On board the Abydos, Admiral Merkle watched the battle as it begin to unfold. With a single squadron of Chimera approaching from the sea and the bulk of the allied defense at their enemy front, he thought little of their chances.

These nazi are truly insane to send their air force in like that. What are they thinking? It was a rhetorical question more then anything seeking an answer and none was given. Instead the crew in the combat information center went about their deliberately about their duties. Commander Clarke, the enemy has committed his air force and if their air force is here who is guarding our targets?

Nothing that can oppose a landing.

Precisely. Have the Tecumseh and their escort carriers begin their bombardment of the coastal defenses around Sicula and St.Paul. How long until boots on the ground?

Two point five hours.

Off the coast from Sicula and St.Paul the Tecumseh and three other nuclear powered guided missile cruisers opened fire. Smoke filled the sea as Seahag and Tigershark cruise missiles left their launch tubes towards the enemy fortifications along the coast.

[The Vorindun]

Deleted.

[The Vorindun]

The trouble with carrying incendiary bombs obviously came if you were shot down, as were the vast majority of the bombers. What few broke through, however, hurried and dropped their fire bombs just anywhere, resulting in horrid civilian casualties in and around Flavium. The fire squads were busy that day, putting a host of fires caused by the bombs, made worse when the pilots then hurled the planes against buildings as well, dying in kamikaze fashion.

The lucky few who survived among the fighter pilots included the Air Vice-Marshal, but not the Air Marshal himself. The Vice-Marshal ordered the men to focus on foreign aircraft and ships, as much as possible. When the missiles were gone, he led a kamikaze assault that finished off the Front's share of the Vorindun Air Force. The enemy would now own the skies completely.

[Olwean Renaissance]

"These camps are more or less concentration camps under different terminology. The Elves are generally fed only gruel, often only once a day. They suffer worse than the Jews in the Nazi camps at Dachau or Sobibor. They are forced, man, woman, and child alike, to work from dawn to dusk for firms contracting with the State. These companies only 'rent' the services of the slaves, who are public slaves similar to the Hebrews in the Egyptian New Kingdom. However, there are frequent visits to the camps by prospective buyers, who usually pick women for private use or purchase. A special guest pass must be presented by these and only Fatherland Front members can get them.

"Whenever a slave escapes and is caught, he or she is shot. They do not bother with floggings, as those would diminish their value and they consider flight as proof that one isn't good slave material, isn't docile enough. Rape, bribery, and other crimes are the order of the day, as the Imperial Youth Service troops are just fanatical youths. They have poor impulse control and are given to being duped if you know how to do so. Women are often forced into prostitution for much of the day by their eager captors, but the regime hasn't reacted to it by creating brothels as some have proposed.

"The worst part is that the dead are often ground up for use in free meals given to the poor as apart of a special welfare program aimed at the hearts and minds of the populace. The poor are unaware of this, I think, but they are actually eating the flesh of the Elves. When a slave is exhausted enough, he'll be shot as useless to the guards. All of the elderly are killed on their 60th birthdays. Pregnant Elves are forced to have abortions. There is talk of sterilization and that may be the next step, for the ultimate goal is genocide, the extermination of the Elf. All slaves are stripped naked and forced to live and work that day for the rest of their short lives. Their heads are shaved and they are branded like cattle.

"I would say that the IYS troops are fierce defenders, but also a little young and dumb, of course. They should be easy enough to defeat or deceive with enough resources."[/b]

[Allanea]

Offices of Army General Elros Thanafiel

One of the phones on the general's desk rang and he picked it up instantly. “Pardon me, madam.” - he said, and listened to what the person on the other end on the line said. - “Oh they did that? Very well. Full steam ahead. Don't stop until we're three hundred kilometers from the shore.”

“Madam,” - he said, putting down the phone, - “The remainders of Vorindun's air force have just committed suicide. The allied air forces now rule the air over Vorindun completely. There is simply nobody to stop us from doing whatever we want.”

“Within a few hours, our carriers will be in range of Vorindun, as the allied forces already are. We will then begin taking the slaver parts of the country apart, brick by brick, until every last elf is free, and until their oppressors have been put to the sword.”

“Now. I will immediately order the PLU troops to prepare themselves, and further for full-scale airborne divisions to be made ready for a sudden attack on the camps. What are your recommendations?”

*

Now the Allanean military began to move in earnest. Scout UAVs bobbed low above the ground, seeking out potential concentrations of the enemy. It was their goal to find how far the nearest slaver units were from Flavium, before the advance could finally begin. Meanwhile, a second unit – now an armored division – began landing on Flavium's airfields.

[The Vorindun]

Now the Allanean military began to move in earnest. Scout UAVs bobbed low above the ground, seeking out potential concentrations of the enemy. It was their goal to find how far the nearest slaver units were from Flavium, before the advance could finally begin. Meanwhile, a second unit – now an armored division – began landing on Flavium's airfields.[/quote]

Unlike the regular army, the Imperial Youth Service was composed of divisions, not legions, and there were ten in all, six of them engaged in the camp work. This left just four divisions at present for combat duty, and these in static positions. The first of these, the 4th Youth Guards Light Infantry Division, were a bit more rigid and ritualistic at the moment that the regular troops. Their commander, 18 year old Division Leader (equivalent to Major General) Chnodomar Aloysius, was a veteran gutter-snipe from the internal street combat which brought the Front to power, but he was still brushing on his standard military doctrine. He didn't realize just how exposed his forward division was, so close to the enemy, so far from his comrades and his lines of communication and supply. Then again, what he lacked in officers' training, he made up for in zeal.

"Sir, shouldn't we withdraw to a post closer to the others, to avoid being cut off by the enemy?" the somewhat nerdy XO, Brigade Leader Ulrich Wanderlust urged his commander.

"No! We are the first chance that the Fatherland has to keep the enemy out of this province! We will stand and fight until the others can catch up with us! If needs must, we will all die here! We buy our comrades and the Fatherland time and we fight and die here as men!"

"Sir, we're not men yet, we're youths...," the XO stammered, but the divisional commandant cut him off.

"They are men now, because we said that they are! We are men and we have to hold our ground! No retreat! Retreats are for cowards! No surrenders! Surrenders are for cowards! One more defeatist comment, comrade Brigade Leader, and I will have you court-martialed! Is that understood?" Aloysius screamed at his XO.

"Yes, Comrade Commandant! My apologies," Wanderlust replied nervously.

"Good, now go and do your job!"

Everyone in the division was edgy at the moment. They were all ready to shoot first and ask questions later. The moment anyone who might be the enemy was about to get hit with the full force of their divisional artillery, which was admittedly only light stuff, mortars, as well as machine-gun nests, and packs of anti-tank troops with RPGs.

All was ready for the first wave of enemy to cross the provincial border.

[Allanea]

At the positions of the Allanean infantry division

Artillery Officer, Colonel Gennady Semenov, looked in amazement at the screen of his tablet. It showed what seemed to be recklessly impossible – arrangements of enemy troops, preparing, it seemed, to defend from the Allanean onslaught. They seemed to have no heavy vehicles, no tanks, nothing beyond mortar positions and machine-gun nests.

“Is the artillery ready to strike?” - Aisha Gray grinned, baring her teeth like a predatory animal.

“Very soon, I expect.” - replied the Artillery officer, pointing to the UAV footage on the screen of his tablet - “The information is even now being passed over to the batteries.”

Aisha laughed. - “Well then, Gena. Your recon men are not in any danger, are they?”

“No, of course not. All of this footage is from UAVs. There's nobody there that could be endangered by our shelling.”

“Except for the slavers, of course.” - Aisha noted.

“Have they ever counted?”

*

The enemy youth troops would find out they were far out of their league. They had less training and equipment than even Allanean Boy Scouts – they were about to enter combat with professional troops, organized and prepared for just such a scenario. Already the forward reconnaissance troops – the closest about ten kilometers from the outh troops – looked at the control screens of their UAVs, and followed the enemy's movements. A few taps on the screens of tactical tablets – and the coordinates would be encrypted and sent off directly to the commanders of artillery batteries. A few minutes – and the dual-barreled turrets of Allanean howitzers and tubes of Allanean MLRS began to turn, aiming at the main concentrations of advancing enemy troops. They fired from a range of about forty-five kilometers, beyond the capability of practically any mortar in existence.

The cannon fired a mix of high-explosive rounds and SADARM shots, which exploded high in the air, deploying guided, anti-tank submutions with the goal of depriving the advancing enemy of their vehicles. The MLRS gunners did a simpler thing – they simply fired the HE-F rounds they'd had pre-loaded into their launchers, enveloping hundreds of square meters of enemy territory in flames and shrapnel.

Five minutes later, they reloaded, and fired another salvo. And another. Hundreds of shells and rockets continued to fall on the enemy's troops, as if out of nowhere.

And even as the bombardment continued, a broadcast was made by Allanean combat radios, made on frequencies that the enemy had been seen to use:

To the commander of the slaver forces we are shelling: I am Colonel Gennady Antonovich Semenov, Artillery Officer with the West Axackal Mechanized Infantry Division. I believe you are already learning that while bravery is nice, bravery combined with good artillery management is nicer.

Were you a smart man, you would have dug in deeper, prepared artillery support and air support. Unless the strategic bombers our air defense crews shot down earlier were your air support, I am forced to assume you have neither.

Listen up. I have more things up my sleeve. As we close you will encounter more and more firepower- long-range mortars, tactical cruise missiles, full-auto mortars and finally the guns of our tankers and infantry vehicles. I doubt even a tenth of your men will survive to be shot by our riflemen. Perhaps one in a hundred will actually experience our bayonets.

You have finally picked on someone far larger than your own size. Over and out.

[The Vorindun]

The coastal defenses were hammered so relentlessly that the artillery was soon overwhelmed. There was no defense against cruise missiles available to the Vorindun forces. It was hopeless. Shellshocked, most of the men soiled themselves and ducked for what cover they could find. Green and raw recruits, aside from the centurions and a minority of the officers, they were no match for the invaders and certainly not for the cruise missiles. They would have a lot of work to do to be ready for this juggernaut.

[The Vorindun]

Publius Statinius, Commandant of the Alarica Slave Camp, really didn't feel like dealing with yet more bad news. His wife and her family gave him grief as it was. His priest wasn't easy on him, either. So he really didn't need this kind of trouble.

God, why must these fanatics attack us now? I am just trying to do my job. These Elves are the enemy, Godless pagans the lot of them. Enslaving them is only right and proper. I am defending the Fatherland against a real menace.

Such were the thoughts of the increasingly drunk Commandant, who was on his fourth drink of the day, too sauced to know what was going on around him. He wasn't too drunk to hear the strange noises, however....they came closer and closer...

[The Vorindun]

At the positions of the Allanean infantry division

Artillery Officer, Colonel Gennady Semenov, looked in amazement at the screen of his tablet. It showed what seemed to be recklessly impossible – arrangements of enemy troops, preparing, it seemed, to defend from the Allanean onslaught. They seemed to have no heavy vehicles, no tanks, nothing beyond mortar positions and machine-gun nests.

“Is the artillery ready to strike?” - Aisha Gray grinned, baring her teeth like a predatory animal.

“Very soon, I expect.” - replied the Artillery officer, pointing to the UAV footage on the screen of his tablet - “The information is even now being passed over to the batteries.”

Aisha laughed. - “Well then, Gena. Your recon men are not in any danger, are they?”

“No, of course not. All of this footage is from UAVs. There's nobody there that could be endangered by our shelling.”

“Except for the slavers, of course.” - Aisha noted.

“Have they ever counted?”

*

The enemy youth troops would find out they were far out of their league. They had less training and equipment than even Allanean Boy Scouts – they were about to enter combat with professional troops, organized and prepared for just such a scenario. Already the forward reconnaissance troops – the closest about ten kilometers from the outh troops – looked at the control screens of their UAVs, and followed the enemy's movements. A few taps on the screens of tactical tablets – and the coordinates would be encrypted and sent off directly to the commanders of artillery batteries. A few minutes – and the dual-barreled turrets of Allanean howitzers and tubes of Allanean MLRS began to turn, aiming at the main concentrations of advancing enemy troops. They fired from a range of about forty-five kilometers, beyond the capability of practically any mortar in existence.

The cannon fired a mix of high-explosive rounds and SADARM shots, which exploded high in the air, deploying guided, anti-tank submutions with the goal of depriving the advancing enemy of their vehicles. The MLRS gunners did a simpler thing – they simply fired the HE-F rounds they'd had pre-loaded into their launchers, enveloping hundreds of square meters of enemy territory in flames and shrapnel.

Five minutes later, they reloaded, and fired another salvo. And another. Hundreds of shells and rockets continued to fall on the enemy's troops, as if out of nowhere.

And even as the bombardment continued, a broadcast was made by Allanean combat radios, made on frequencies that the enemy had been seen to use:

To the commander of the slaver forces we are shelling: I am Colonel Gennady Antonovich Semenov, Artillery Officer with the West Axackal Mechanized Infantry Division. I believe you are already learning that while bravery is nice, bravery combined with good artillery management is nicer.

Were you a smart man, you would have dug in deeper, prepared artillery support and air support. Unless the strategic bombers our air defense crews shot down earlier were your air support, I am forced to assume you have neither.

Listen up. I have more things up my sleeve. As we close you will encounter more and more firepower- long-range mortars, tactical cruise missiles, full-auto mortars and finally the guns of our tankers and infantry vehicles. I doubt even a tenth of your men will survive to be shot by our riflemen. Perhaps one in a hundred will actually experience our bayonets.

You have finally picked on someone far larger than your own size. Over and out.

For regular troops, this experience would be hellish. For young boy soldiers, well.....it was a nightmare indeed. They were outgunned, seemed to be outnumbered, and outmaneuvered...the Imperial Youth Service were fine for bullying Elves and political dissidents. For taking on a professional foreign war machine, they were useless. Yet, many of them stood there, suicidally waiting to take a pointless and futile stand against the foe. They couldn't think straight, but some of them discovered their inner resolve, inner strength.

The rest scattered like the wind, and not a soul thought of bringing them back. They threw down their guns and ran like hell, many of them sobbing and soiled.....

The remnant who did stand didn't know what to expect, but they stood nonetheless. They stood in spite of the foolhardy nature of it. They stood in defense of their cause. They also stood just moments away from Death, who grinned as he prepared to take them.

[Unilisia]

For regular troops, this experience would be hellish. For young boy soldiers, well.....it was a nightmare indeed. They were outgunned, seemed to be outnumbered, and outmaneuvered...the Imperial Youth Service were fine for bullying Elves and political dissidents. For taking on a professional foreign war machine, they were useless. Yet, many of them stood there, suicidally waiting to take a pointless and futile stand against the foe. They couldn't think straight, but some of them discovered their inner resolve, inner strength.

The rest scattered like the wind, and not a soul thought of bringing them back. They threw down their guns and ran like hell, many of them sobbing and soiled.....

The remnant who did stand didn't know what to expect, but they stood nonetheless. They stood in spite of the foolhardy nature of it. They stood in defense of their cause. They also stood just moments away from Death, who grinned as he prepared to take them.

And grin it did.

Alongside the Allanean infantry the first column of Unilisian guards arrived, silently shuffling and breaking off into packs of five and forming up around the defended Allanean positions.

Most of them showed a predatory anxiousness to charge off into the fight and begin feeding before the artillery had killed or scared away the Vorindun soldiers, but their packmasters made sure to give them a firm growl to remind them that they were soldiers, not morons, and charging off into specially designed high explosive shells amongst scared humans running around like mad... although thrilling, was stupid, and most likely suicidal. Unilisia had assigned them a specialty task to brutalize this nation and its criminals, but they would do it after the shells stopped falling. Once done, they'd simply sprint on all fours across the divide and launch themselves upon their tattered enemies, biting clawing and tearing them apart until all the was left were the innards of what nobody would recognize as ever being human beings. If a Vorindun raised his arms or a weapon in defense, they'd have a 10.05 caliber burst of gunfire launch their heads off their shoulders or their rifle slammed through their insides with the force of a charging ox, for one does not simply disrespect death by attempting to stall it.

Of course, for now they were safe from fate. But when the volley ended, they would meet it begrudgingly.

[Allanea]

In his office, the artillery officer laughed as he saw, on dozens of monitoring screens, the enemy troops fleeing in terror. Now was the time for some sterner measures. He began issuing new orders.

“Artillery, ceased fire. Allow the Unilisians to advance. MLRS – shift fire.”

Now the youth troops would understand the meaning of the term 'maneuver with fire'. The Allanean Manticore MLRS could launch their rockets deeper than the distance to the enemy trenches. Far deeper. Five minutes after the first salvoes, the rockets were reloaded – and the launchers dropped a new avalanche of fire on the fleeing youths, even as they ran – now exposed in the open, without the benefit of the protective trenches.

As the Unilisians began to advance towards the enemy, so would Allaneans. Tanks and IFV rumbled menacingly, closing on the enemy. Still the Allaneans had no intend to engage this foe head-on.

Allanean helicopters were the first to attack. They launched short-range guided missiles, striking enemy mortar pads from beyond the horizon.

A few kilometers away – tantalizingly near the enemy – troops from both the Allanean infantry and tanker division made their last preparations to strike, checking their weapons, making sure their tanks and IFVs were ready for the fight that would ensue.

The Unilisians would receive an encrypted message:

Suppress their mortars. It is the only target of concern. When the mortars die, we crush them with our treads. Kill the mortars.

[Unilisia]

In his office, the artillery officer laughed as he saw, on dozens of monitoring screens, the enemy troops fleeing in terror. Now was the time for some sterner measures. He began issuing new orders.

“Artillery, ceased fire. Allow the Unilisians to advance. MLRS – shift fire.”

Now the youth troops would understand the meaning of the term 'maneuver with fire'. The Allanean Manticore MLRS could launch their rockets deeper than the distance to the enemy trenches. Far deeper. Five minutes after the first salvoes, the rockets were reloaded – and the launchers dropped a new avalanche of fire on the fleeing youths, even as they ran – now exposed in the open, without the benefit of the protective trenches.

As the Unilisians began to advance towards the enemy, so would Allaneans. Tanks and IFV rumbled menacingly, closing on the enemy. Still the Allaneans had no intend to engage this foe head-on.

Allanean helicopters were the first to attack. They launched short-range guided missiles, striking enemy mortar pads from beyond the horizon.

A few kilometers away – tantalizingly near the enemy – troops from both the Allanean infantry and tanker division made their last preparations to strike, checking their weapons, making sure their tanks and IFVs were ready for the fight that would ensue.

The Unilisians would receive an encrypted message:

Suppress their mortars. It is the only target of concern. When the mortars die, we crush them with our treads. Kill the mortars.

The Commandant in charge of the packs grinned at the message on his left arm gauntlet, the small screen displaying the orders of his superiors as advised by the Allaneans. He gave a two-finger salute to the humans alongside him, then dropped on all fours, let out a snarl that didn't sound like any normal pack animal, and then began his sprint. Following behind were the packs of five, their masters ahead, robes flapping in the wind as they rushed forward at upwards of 20 miles per hour, this speed attained by their superhuman muscles and physical structure, and their streamlines uniforms assisted rather well at this aspect of rapid flanking. The Commandant nodded to his left and right, packmasters relaying the same simple gesture to allow a full sweeping attack on the Vorindun position, and the lead Unilisian pounced over a barrier of sandbags and buried his jaws into the head of a young soldier, clamping down and hearing his bone and teeth shatter with a sickening crunch, landing hunched on his crushed torso, claws dug into his chest and the feeling of his heart beat slowing at the Commandants finger tips.

Alongside him were dozens of other Sanguinis Guards, tearing apart soldiers and stragglers like sheep with no legs. The occasional shot could be heard by his perked ears, followed by the angry howl and the deafening clatter of a Unilisian with an LY22 Lyran made 10.05 caliber infantry rifle, loud enough to drown out the Allanean artillery still heard further ahead of them. Having reached the front lines and subdued the few soldiers left so perilously (stupidly) close to the Allaneans, the Commandant punched in new orders on his touch screen, and quickly packmasters waved their subordinates close and began to move in unison towards the mortars. After they began their surge forward, the Unilisian took a brief moment to crush the spine of remaining human soldier with a swift tap of his foot, then returned to his feral position and bolted after his underlings.

The mortars weren't well defended anymore, a few zealous Vorindun remained and upon the appearance of Unilisians bristling with weapons on all fours snarling like wolves, several soiled themselves, most ran, and some fool hardedly decided drawing their weapons to fire was a good idea. It definitely wasn't. The three mortar emplacements were swarmed by hundreds of Unilisians, bullets hitting them, some lucky shots to the head putting down the posthuman warriors, but that was less than ten over all. The fact of the matter was scared teenagers, as these men were revealed to be, could not shoot very well and with precision, and those firing into the crowd tended to hit the thick armor and kevlar cloaks of the Sanguinis armor.

Most were disarmed completely, limb and weapon, and then thrashed apart into humanly nonexistent piles of blood and shattered bones, the occasional organ, the choice ones such as the liver and hearts left to the packmasters while thighs and kidneys and intestines torn and cleaned in puddles of blood, then consumed in their entirety of the voracious guards, men and women alike sitting amongst corpses ravenously devouring what were only a few minutes ago human beings.

The most important thing was that nobody was left manning the mortars, and this left them intact but silenced. The Commandant smiled, patting one of the guardsmen near him on the head as he feasted, sliding his fingers to the touchscreen on his gauntlet communication pad and letting his superiors and the Allaneans know that they could move forward and continue this war unimpeded. He then sat down, yanked the brain from a partially decapitated 15 year old, and licked it with all the pleasure one would lick a delicacy.