Her ports all up, her battle-lanterns lit (Earth II)

[Terra Reborn]

ACT I

Not Such as lulls to sleep

God, give us peace! Not such as lulls to sleep,
But sword on thigh, and brow with purpose knit!
And let our Ship of State to harbor sweep,
Her ports all up, her battle-lanterns lit,
And her leashed thunders gathering for their leap!
-Washers of the Shroud, James Russell Lowell

[Terra Reborn]

Sir Charles W. Allen, KCG, His Majesty’s Ambassador to the Republic of South India
Residence of the President of the Republic, Bangalore, Republic of South India
Indian Subcontinent
Friday 2nd November 2012, 0900hrs Local Time (1900hrs Imperial Capital Time (1/11/12), 0300hrs Zulu Time)

India had always been something of an oddity. Whilst its two longest and most substantial governments had both been democratic, both had ultimately fallen for no real reason other than the failure of democracy as the principle form of government, there was a reason after all that whilst although the people of the Empire had some democratic say there would always be a monarch in charge just in case. In addition when these democracies in India failed they tended to fail quite spectacularly, and it was fairly obvious to anyone who watched the sociopolotical sphere in India that the people were getting sick of it. It had primarily been this revelation that had resulted in the formation of the Republic of South India as an interim government that would either join another Pan-Indian venture or become a sovereign nation in its own right. What they had not considered before was the option of becoming part of another nation that was not from India and thus was not caught up in the political quagmire that the region had become. In the waning months of 2012 the Apilonian Empire had made overtures and the government of the RSI was considering the offer carefully.

The advantages were obvious. Over the past few years the Apilonian Empire, whilst expansionist had not proven to be imperialist, each of its absorbed territories retained substantial autonomy within the overall Empire, in addition the Empire had also proven itself capable of keeping hold of its new territories and ensuring that they prosper, an important part of Imperial Policy. It also provided substantially towards the common defence, as the RSI was not equipped to properly defend itself. The threat to the North of the rest of an aggressive India was obvious, but likewise the threat from the east of the Hi No Moton Empire, both of which the Apilonian Empire could theoretically defend against. In addition to this the infrastructure that had been damaged through various conflicts was in dire need of repair and the Apilonians were both capable and willing of investing to ensure that it could be done. As with so many times in recent years the pragmatism of the moment was dictating the policy of the nation, and it was now that the Empire’s work at establishing itself as a reliable power would begin to pay off.

Of course the Apilonian Empire had its own reasons for wanting a presence in India. As had been pointed out at numerous strategy meetings the acquisition of Australia had opened up a second from against the Hi No Motons, decreasing their ability to consolidate their forces in one area without risking being vulnerable somewhere else. Being able to count on the forces of South India alone would provide a third front for the almost inevitable war that the strategists generally agreed was coming. The priority had always been to place the Empire in the best possible position if it came down to a war, even with its recent acquisitions the Empire didn’t come close to matching the Hi No Motons in sheer manpower, that meant they had to take every advantage they could, and the ability to hit the enemy from three separate sides was simply too good to pass up. Of course there was the fact that the Hi No Motons would face a less coherent Imperial line and thus in whichever area they they concentrated their forces would do better, but in the other areas the Empire would far better, and if the enemy spread his forces they would not be sufficient to defeat any of the Imperial stations, or at least that was the general idea.

Sir Charles W. Allen, the Imperial Ambassador to the Republic of South India, was fairly fresh out of his success in dealing with the Kingdom of Holland during the incidents around Samoa, specifically the Allen Agreement that he had been instrumental in fashioning that had prevented the situation from escalating. Some would call re-assignment to this post a demotion when compared to others he could be given, but with the importance of the potential inclusion of the territory into the Empire it was obvious why such a distinguished ambassador had been chosen. It was equally obvious that once this was out of the way he would have his pick of plum assignments across the globe, the Empire was always in need of good diplomats to continue furthering its agenda in ways other than those that exercised the military of the Empire, which had been growing from strength to strength from humble beginnings to the force that it was now, well equipped, well trained and increasingly well-experienced across the board. It was ironic, less than two years previously the Hi No Motons had struck an Imperial Airbase with annoying impunity, now almost as a result of that the Empire had expanded at a frightening rate, and one of the reasons for this was the need to be able to resist the enemy.

Sir Charles stepped out of the modified Jaguar XF executive car, a pair of other modified vehicles in front and behind. He was protected by eight agents from the Diplomatic Security Agency, these agents were separate from the Embassy Security Force who were basically a paramilitary force, the DSA agents themselves were tasked with close protection of the Ambassador. Each was well trained and armed with an FN Five-Seven beneath their conservative suits. The Ambassador himself was likewise dressed in a formal suit, with a lapel pin bearing the yellow backed black wolf’s head as the symbol of the House of Von Karin, as well as a similar pin marking him out as a Knight of the Most Honourable Order of Saint Gabriel. In the few months that he had been stationed out here Sir Charles had developed a good rapport and a firm friendship with the President, Jania Singh, and as she was one of the main advocates for the RSI becoming a part of the Apilonian Empire this was probably a good thing.

Sir Charles bowed polielty as he was shown into her office before she offered him a seat on one of the comfortable chairs and sat down in the next one himself.

“What’s the word?” She asked with a slight smile.

“I spoke to His Majesty last night, he’s aboard the Imperial Yacht, celebrating his honeymoon,” Sir Charles replied with a slight smile. “He said that whilst the Empire is more than happy to allow the inclusion of the RSI into the Empire that it does require a formal plebistice by the population on the matter, the Apilonian Empire might be expansionist but we are not Imperialistic, we do not absorb people that do not want us.”

“Fair enough, but my people are tired of the back and forth game we’ve been playing here on the Subcontinent for the mast few centuries, enough is enough,” Jania replied grimly. “I’ve already been very vocal in my support of the Empire and I’d say that its fairly common knowledge that I support the RSI becoming a territory of the Empire, and polls indicate that the population would be amenable to the idea.”

“You do realise that although we can protect you from the North, there is also the fact that the Hi No Motons might strike against any Indian Territories ,” Sir Charles questioned, although he wanted this to happen he couldn’t bring himself to sugar-coat this, not for her.

“Yes, we know,” Jania replied with a sad smile. “However with the recent events in China we cannot be sure that they will not come for us eventually, I would much rather already be secure in the knowledge rather than try and fend them off ourselves.”

“Alright, then here is what I suggest we do, and I cannot see the King having any issues,” Sir Charles said. “Tomorrow morning we’ll appear together and you will announce a referendum to pose the question of the RSIs inclusion in the Apilonian Empire as a full member territory, we have no intention of making you a subservient colony as others have done in the past. As we get to work on the referendum itself the Imperial Navy will deploy a Carrier Group to fly the flag and perhaps engage in wargames with your own Navy, I believe you have a number of USDP warships active?”

“Indeed, we were lucky, the RSI was fortunate enough to host one of the largest naval bases in India, including Carriers,” Jania nodded, stressing the plural, she knew as much as Sir Charles how useful they would be in both defending the RSI from the North but also against the Hi No Moton threat to the east. “Alright, in the spirit of this plebistice would King Walker be able to make a stop up here?”

“It is possible, the King and Queen’s Honeymoon is doubling as a round the trip tour of the Empire, they’ve recently been in Portugal and Gibraltar and are cruising across the Med, intending to head for Australia, but I’m sure we can arrange for them to visit here,” Sir Charles nodded. “Their visit would no doubt help swing the referendum the way we want it.”

Jania nodded.

“I cannot help but feel sorry for them both, it’s hardly the most romantic honeymoon, days at sea followed by busy, PR filled days ashore,” Jania commented.

“At least they get some time alone,” Sir Charles replied. “And he is still able to do his work and the like, it’s the best they were going to get to a true, relaxing honeymoon.”

“Fair point, the price of being a Monarch,” Jania commented as she walked over and sat gently on his knee. “Say, do I get to become an Archduke if all of this goes through.”

“I would imagine so my dear,” Sir Charles replied as he gently kissed her on the lips, something she did not resist, the opposite in fact. “As much as I would like to continue this, we do still have a lot of work to do.”

“Aye, work before pleasure,” Jania nodded. “Right then, let’s get on with it.”

Captain (Senior Grade) Alexander Sinclair, DSC, IN
H.M.S. Vindicator (BC27), Christchurch, South Island, New Zealand
The South Pacific
Friday 2nd November 2012, 1600hrs Local Time (1900hrs Imperial Capital Time (1/11/12), 0300hrs Zulu Time)

On the morning of the 2nd of November the Harbour of Christchuch was dominated by the form of the Saga-Class Battlecruiser of the Imperial Navy. At two-hundred-fifty-two meters in length and weighing in at twenty-nine thousand tons the Saga Class cruiser was one of the larger vessels, short of Battleships and Aircraft Carriers, in the Imperial Navy and was a truly intimidating ship, not just in terms of its design but its capabilities. The Fearless was based nominally out of Samoa Station, the Imperial Naval presence on the Samoan Islands, but it was used in this kind of flag-flying and good-will visits across the Pacific area of operations. The Battlecruiser was proudly in Imperial Colours, flying the Imperial Naval White Ensign, bearing her pennant number on her bows (BC27) and her name along the aft beam. The Imperial Navy might not be the world power that it had once been, yet, although the IN was trying and it was getting there, but the Battlecruiser carried itself with the lineage that the Imperial Navy possessed along with the battle honours earned by the previous HMS Vindicator.

Captain Alexander Sinclair stood on the small walkway just outside the bridge and looked along the length of his command. The Battlecruiser was moored up alongside the dockside, a gangway bearing the ships name lowered aft to allow the ships company to depart the vessel. A team of Naval ratings were stood on the aft deck armed with assault rifles in order to prevent anyone getting aboard the vessel without permission, the ships own marines alongside most of the ship’s crew were on shore-leave in the city or recovering from the previous nights festivities. The local South Islanders had been more than happy to see a ship full of bored sailors it would do wonders for the local economy. It was also a vital public relations move as well, with the Imperial presence on Australia not going anywhere and the Imperial Navy operating substantially in the Pacific it was deemed important for Imperial vessels to show their faces in neutral ports across the region.

The Vindicator was due to depart before nightfall, they were required to be at Samoa to dock for a two-week layover before running a circuit of the Pacific on good-will visits to neutral or friendly ports. As much as the crew would love another night in Christchurch, Buchanan knew that they would need to get about setting up their land-side accommodation on Samoa, Vindicator was newly assigned having come in from Rhodes, itself at the military base that had been established there and was the homeport of the Imperial Navy squadron, the Saga Class vessel was the largest vessel that the naval station (which had taken over much of the harbour could accommodate. So although his crew may not thank him when he gave the orders to sail he knew that they would thank him in the long run and that was good enough for him, he cared enough about his crew’s wellbeing to ensure that they were all squared away before they went out on the town and got pissed.

Alexander Sinclair loved the Navy. He had served in the Alaskan Republic Navy during the dark times following the Fall of the First Empire and before the Rise of the Second, his ship had been destroyed during the war and had not expected to serve again. All this had changed with the resurgence of the Empire and the recovery of the long-lost Imperial treasury that had bankrolled the now self-sustaining economy that the Empire enjoyed as well as the Imperial Military. The initial Navy had been small but following a deal with the Cots, followed by another with the Americans and Layartebians the Navy had expanded multi-fold, to the extent that there had been a short period when there were simply too many ships to crew; a problem which had thankfully been solved by the acquisition of a number of new territories. The Navy had received its latest boost following the incorporation of Australia into the Empire; it had brought many American-built (such as the Questers Design Board line of vessels) and experienced crews into Imperial service.

Never the less the life of an Imperial Naval Captain was a lonely one. As commanding officer he was expected to keep a certain distance from his crew, any officer who tried to be ‘popular’ with his or her crew tended to lose their respect and this was not what he wanted. As a result he, like many officers, maintained a strict firm-but-fair approach to command and was a good leader as well as a sound naval tactician; he knew the capabilities of his vessel and he knew exactly how to use them although he hoped not to have to. The Imperial Military had found itself being called in to protect others many times over the past year and a bit but not to protect the Empire itself; that was something that although they were trained for they hoped never happened; if that happened then everything they fought for and everything that every Imperial Citizen held dear was at risk. On a professional side it was lonely, and perhaps on a personal side it was even more so as whilst at sea he had no one and when he got back to homeport there was no one there waiting for him; he was married to the navy so to speak and had never found anyone willing to put up with the months spent away from home, not someone he wanted to spend a lifetime with. He just didn’t want to wait too long, as much as he loved the Navy perhaps it was time to look into other horizons.

Sinclair chastised himself and turned his attention back to the report he held in his hand; the end-of-week Strategic Update, it detailed all the Imperial deployments within his area of operations; specifically all units attached to the operating area of the Pacific Fleet. Specifically there was growing concern regarding the North Island of New Zealand, following the collapse (again) of the government that had set itself up here. Once again whilst the South Island strived to remain peaceful the North Island had fallen victim to an oppressive military coup, one that (if reports were to be believed) had perpetrated war crimes against its own population. But unless these could be verified, there was nothing that the Apilonian Empire could do. Although the Empire had expanded numerous times over the previous few years it wasn’t an Imperialistic power (despite having the word Imperial in most of its institutions), and as such it didn’t but its nose in without firm proof, and preferably a request for help. Regardless it was becoming increasingly obvious that given the Empire’s strong presence in the South Pacific that they would not be able to leave the situation for long.

Sinclair sighed to himself. What he wouldn’t give to be back in the Empire now.

[Layarteb]

November 1, 2012 - 22:00 hrs [UTC-5]
Governors Island, Layarteb City
Fortress of Comhghall
(40° 41' 26.5842" N, 74° 0' 59.2518" W)

"Let me guess Minister, another coup?" The Emperor said sarcastically as the Minister of Intelligence entered his office.

"No sir, not a new one but we're monitoring the one in New Zealand. Reconnaissance confirmed that an Apilonian Saga-class cruiser, Cottish-built, was recently in Christchurch. The coup's spread on the North Island remains problematic and troubling. Accordingly to reports, the government there continues an oppressive and particularly brutal."

"So what, old story," the Emperor answered. "What concern does it have with us? It already appears that the Apilonians are involved. Let them have the country, they've got eastern Australia anyway."

"Sir while that is our current prerogative as dictated by yourself, there is another pressing matter in the situation."

"I'm listening," the Emperor answered.

"The Chatham Islands group remains alone sir, away from the troubles on the North Island and as far as we can determine, not a priority of the Apilonians. Without a doubt they will move south to north, it would make the most sense. In the meantime sir, the Chatham Islands will sit vacant. Minor islands with barely any human presence save for a few hundred citizens, they could easily fall under our control, thus giving us a southern approach against Fiji.

"Our efforts to box the Hi No Motons in by setting up a barrier between them and us have been overwhelmingly successful with the exception of Fiji. It is their easternmost territory, excluding the Aleutians and that it sits east of Vanuatu means it could attack us on our flank. Obviously, we have assets focused on Fiji to prevent this but the Hi No Motons aren't in the same situation. With Chatham Islands in our possession, Fiji faces threats on all four sides with the southern flank the most exposed and the weakest."

"All right that has validity in it and I am positive that the scenario has been explored before."

"It has sir."

"Okay, then" the Emperor leaned back a little in his chair, relaxing a bit, "we can explore that idea at the NSC meeting tomorrow."

"I will have a workup for us tomorrow. There is one other thing sir."

"About New Zealand?"

"Yes sir, SIGINT picked up some very interesting chatter out of southern New Zealand. We've since confirmed that it is from Stewart Island."

"Go on," with his obvious obsession with islands, the Emperor was all ears.

"Sir we have intercepted chatter between various parties but one in particular was directly from the police and military forces' local commanding office on the island. He was discussing the coup and how forces on the island are not in alliance with the military on the North Island. Furthermore, it was very interesting that he should mention also that he they were not in alliance with South Island either."

"Now that is a development of interest."

"We thought so sir; it appears that the populace on Stewart Island is a bit weary of the constant shift in power in New Zealand and they are especially wearisome of the struggling between North and South. It appears that after this little run in with Tavok, they are sick of it all and looking for stability."

"Enter the Empire."

"Yes sir."

[Terra Reborn]

Rear Admiral Viscountess Standford, DSO, DSC, KSS, IN
H.M.S. Reprisal, Twenty Miles South of Rhodes
The Mediterranean Sea
Friday 2nd November 2012, 1100hrs Local Time (0100hrs Imperial Capital Time, 0900hrs Zulu Time)

Although she had loved command of the Defiant and had been sad to relinquish command of her, but the double promotion that she had be given and the opportunity to command an aircraft carrier during its first commission had managed to persuade Alice Standford, Viscountess Standford, and of course the fact that the request had come directly from the King. As the Reprisal was undergoing shakedown in the Mediterranean, Standford had begun to realise that she loved the increased responsibility, power and authority that she had as the commanding officer of an Imperial Carrier Battle Group. She was also determined to do a better job than that of disgraced former Rear Admiral Elvis Santino had during the Portugal War, he wasn’t the true face of the Imperial Navy but the fact remained that from a public point of view the confidence of the citizenry in the Imperial Navy needed to be restored, and who better to do that than one of the Navy’s most well-known young flag officers, and it was partially for that reason that she had been given such a prestigious command. If only she and everyone else knew the ground-breaking situation they would soon be sailing into.

The Reprisal was at the centre of a Battlegroup that consisted of herself and nine other vessels. The largest of these was the Saga-Class Battlecruisers, HMS Lion’s Pride, which served as the escort command vessel, allowing the carrier to concentrate on flight ops, the Lion’s Pride was responsible for ensuring that the carrier was kept safe and trailed behind the Carrier, also serving as emergency support if someone went overboard. Flanking the carrier to both port and starboard at a distance of only a couple of miles were a pair of Tiger Class Cruisers, providing close-in protection for the carrier, further out between five and twenty nautical miles were the four Ardent Class Destroyers that provided the vast bulk of the air defence for the group. Finally a pair of Firefly Class frigates were the furthest out and rotated around the carrier group as the formation continued forwards, serving as forward pickets to extend the warning time that the Battlegroup might have of any attack that could be coming their way, these were the furthest out short of AEW aircraft or fighters from the combat air patrol.

“Attention on the Flight Deck, unscheduled COD on final approach, Admiral Standford to the flight deck, dignitary imminent.”

Standford frowned and glanced up at the speaker in her office. As the Commander of the Battlegroup she should have been informed if a dignitary of some form was coming aboard, and it was incredibly rare for a COD to come aboard without it being something important. In this case it was fairly obvious that it was going to be some highly placed individual, and if she wasn’t speaking to this person via video conference the chances were that it was something highly important and too sensitive to transmit over a comparatively unsecured transmission. She placed down the duty report that she had been working on and grabbed her peaked cap from where she had placed it on the side and settled it onto her head as she exited the office and strode along the corridors and up onto the flight deck where she watched, holding onto her cap, as the C-2 Greyhound touched down onto the deck, grabbing the second arresting wire.

The senior officer who stepped down from the C-2 was not wearing a Naval uniform as she had been expecting, rather it was an Army uniform bearing the crossed swords, pip and crown of a full (four-star) general, and it was one of the most well-known General officers in the Imperial Army, it was the newly-promoted Earl of Anchorage, Peter Cain, formally commanding officer of I Corps as far as she had known he was between appointments and back in the Empire, seemingly he had flown out in the past fear hours specifically to be aboard the Reprisal, exactly why was unclear, but she couldn’t wait to find out. Given the environment there was no saluting although a firm handshake was shared as they departed the flight deck and stepped inside the superstructure of the aircraft carrier. They talked casually for a few moments as they made their way through the corridors until they reached her office, the rest of the personnel aboard the COD were his support staff, seemingly indicating that they were here for the long run, clearly there was something big going down if the most famous man in the Empire short of the Monarch (and perhaps the PM) was in town.

“General Anchorage, congratulations on your promotion,” Standford said formally once they had both sat down. “Although I thought that you were meant to be back in the Empire, waiting for a command.”

“Likewise, Rear Admiral, and congratulations on your peerage, and yes, I was meant to be in the Empire, but after Sir Charles Allen’s fantastic work in South India since the fall of the Republic of India I’ve been given a new task”” Cain replied. “It’s been fast work but given the changing situation over there its hardly surprising that some of the people over there don’t want anything to do with the militaristic, aggressive government that is fucking around in China with superpowers.”

“Fair point, so where exactly do we come in?” Standford frowned.

“We, along with an Air Officer from the IAF, are to constitute the liaison detail for the RSI Military during the referendum process, and if all goes to plan the integration period,” Cain explained. “I’ve been chosen for obvious reasons, likewise you’ve been chosen for your high stature in the scheme of things, and your reputation out of the Imperial Navy.”

Standford blinked sharply at the idea that she would have a reputation outside of her own service, but shook it off promptly.

“What sort of Naval Forces does the RSI have at its command?” Standford questioned.

“Eight supercarriers, seven are Nimitz sized and roughtly as capable, the eight is an older vessel comparable to a nuclear powered Kitty Hawk Class vessel,” Cain replied. “Plus some some and enough escorts to defend the groups, in addition the RSI had the majority of the old Republic of India’s submarine launched ballistic missile submarines.”

“Good God, you do realise of course the options this will give us? It effectively doubles the Imperial Navy in size and capability, and we already have experienced personnel from both the ROI and the USDP,” Standford commented, the surprise obvious in her voice. “And they want to join up with us… why? Surely they can handle themselves?”

“Not necessarily, the vast majority of what had been the ROIs army and air force is on the northern border with China, the only ground troops that the ROI has is what is left of the Marine Corps, roughly half a million well trained troops,” Cain replied. “Never the less in any way other than the Navy they are at a bit of a disadvantage, and in any case the Northern Indian State has got more people overall, between the two of us we can probably hold Southern India, especially from a Naval standpoint.”

“I see your point, they’ve not got the manpower to face down the Northerners should they got hostile,” Standford commented. “What do we think of the chances of the North going South?”

“We hope not, although Imperial Intelligence is not giving any suppositions at this point, but given the state they are in after recent events, it is hardly surprising,” Cain replied. “In either case I am personally hopeful that this will all go well, they get to keep their love of democracy whilst having a stable, non-political executive to oversee it, whilst at the same time pooling their military resources with our own to defend against the North, and against the Hi No Motons of course. But if the North does kick off we’ll try the diplomatic route, but if all else fails we’ll commit to the defence of South India, whether or not it as the RSI or as Indian Territories of the Empire.”

“I wish we weren’t this busy,” Standford sighed. “Sometimes I would like to just be able to relax for a bit, you know it’s been over a years since I’ve been home.”

“It is the way things are, the Hi No Motons have proven themselves to be a threat, the only way we can possible hope to stand against them is to expand the Empire and we should never apologise for that, but at least unlike some other Empire’s in history we don’t do it by force,” Cain commented, and it was obvious that he believed in the Empire as much as any. “It’s ironic really, we risk being vilified for trying to do the right thing and get the shit for it, whilst others do terrible things and no one does a damn thing, take the Empire of Banjamos’ recent clusterfuck in Luxembourg, they screwed that poor sodding country over and no one did a damn thing, just like Rhodes, but you know what they say, no good deed goes unpunished.”

“I hope you are wrong, My Lord,” Standford said sadly. “I am tired of all this fighting, I’ve been in a major battle six times in the past year, lost a lot of good people in the process. Right now I just want to go home.”

“I’ll ensure you get some leave once our business in India is complete, you have more than earned it, besides you need to be invested into the House of Lords, its been a while since we’ve had a new noble created,,” Cain commented. “Not counting all of the Earls and above who were created with each absorption”

“I’m not particularly fond of politics, my Lord, I would much rather stay out of it totally,” Standford sighed and grinned as he nodded sagely in agreement, despite his involvement in politics recently. “You heard the latest of what is happening down in New Zealand?”

“Yea, that is just a Charlie Foxtrot waiting to happen,” Cain sighed. “That’ll be a IMPFORAUS problem, thankfully, although the current ship we have down there, a Saga if I recall, is from Pacific Fleet.”

“Well, we’ll need to keep the Australian Fleet on stand-by to head up here and give us a hand, just in case we need it, see if you can talk to Kittinger about making New Zealand a fully Pacific Fleet operation , it’ll give us more flexibility,” Standford suggested.

“I’ll pass the message up, see where it goes,” Cain nodded. “Now, we’ve got a lot of actual planning to do, and we’ve got a conference call with the Defence Minister in half an hour, Shall we…”

[Terra Reborn]

Lieutenant Commander Greg Harrison, Imperial Navy
Christchurch, South Island, New Zealand
The South Pacific
Saturday 3rd November 2012, 0100hrs Local Time (0400hrs Imperial Capital Time (2/11/12), 1200hrs Zulu Time (2/11/12))

It was all down to Commander Johnson, the executive officer of the Vindicator, who had managed to persuade Captain Sinclair to give them an extra night in port before they headed back up for their refit in Samoa. It went without saying that his popularity on the crew had gone up without him even trying; which was a good thing as an office who tried to be popular tended to lose respect from the crew, in this situation it wasn’t the case; it was a move to improve crew morale, not make himself more popular. Indeed it was primarily for that reason that Captain Sinclair had not unilaterally decided to add an extra day off his own initiative, but in either case everyone aboard was much happier, although he figured that by the morning most people would be nursing a sizable headache of some kind, much to his amusement. He personally wasn’t drinking tonight, he was supposed to stand watch in the morning and seeing as he was hoping to go for a command of his own in the near future the last thing he wanted to do was stand watch whilst hungover.

Lieutenant Commander Greg Harrison was the Principle Warfare Officer, meaning that he was the most senior warfare officer on the ship and ultimately responsible for the conduct of the ship’s fighting under the direction of its commanding officer and/or the executive officer of the ship, it also meant that he was one of the more senior officers on the ship, and this case was the third-in-command, and was looking for a promotion to a command of his own, or at least a stint as executive officer for a few years. In either case he was enjoying his time aboard a Battlecruiser, he knew that chances were his next assignment was going to be a smaller vessel, if he got a command if was almost certainly going to be a smaller frigate, or perhaps a destroyer if he was lucky. But then he didn’t particularly mind, after all command of an Imperial Warship no matter what the size was a great honour and he frankly didn’t care how big it was as long as it was his to command, and if everything that Captain Sinclair had hinted at was true, it would be coming very soon, indeed potentially as soon as they got back to Samoa.

Sadly, this was not to be.

There was no warning.

Explosions rippled over the city as the cruise missiles slammed into various targets of opportunity in the city, and just as the roar of the explosions died down the equally dire roar of jet engines could be heard. Harrison pulled himself back up from where he had been thrown by a nearby explosion and looked around, as civilians and other Imperial Navy crewmen did the same. He called the crew to him that he could see and began to make their way down, at a dead run, towards the dock where the Vindicator was alongside. They cleared the last building in time to watch as an explosion tore apart the aft most turret and sent the helicopter flying into the harbour from the force of the blast. It became quickly obvious that the jets roaring overhead and dropped some form of bomb onto the Imperial Battlecruiser and judging by the fire that now raged on the aft quarter of the ship there had been some damage done. Thankfully the bulk of her offensive armament was mounted amidships and forward so assuming the fire was got under control the actual fighting capability of the ship would still be intact.

Harrison knew that he had to get back aboard, as PWO his presence would be essential in defending against this attack. Although there had been no formal declaration of support for the South Island the very fact that this attack had hit civilian casualties, not to mention damaged an Imperial Warship, almost certified an Imperial defence of the island. Crew members were scrambling back to their ship even as the Vindicator fired off a handful of anti-air-missiles at nearby targets, met by satisfying explosions high above, but the defence was sporadic and clearly neither the CO or the XO had got to the bridge yet, probably some poor Lieutenant who had been manning the night watch was in charge of the defence, then again to get even some shots off with limited experience was a good sign, but never the less Harrison knew that he had to get to the bridge and find out what was going on, once the XO or the CO arrived he could head down to the warfare suite where he belonged.

Arriving on the bridge he found a young Lieutenant trying to organise a defence, and in fairness as Harrison arrived on the bridge the Vindicator swatted a pair of cruise missiles out of an attack vector with her CIWS. Despite this the Lieutenant looked glad to have Harrison on the bridge.

“Where’s the skipper?” Harrison called over the sound of a nearby explosion on the dockside.

“Dead sir!” The Lieutenant shouted back over the hubbub of a combat situation. “The XO is unaccounted for as well, you are in command.”

Harrison stood silent for a moment as he absorbed the information. Damnit this wasn’t how he wanted his first command to begin, but then it was what he had and he would deal with it. Shoving his own personal grief aside he strode forward and looked at the tactical display which tied in RADAR and other systems to give a general idea of what was going on. He watched as a number of enemy fighters swarmed over the city, whilst South Island fighters were still trying to get into the air, if they were going to survive this he had to help them get airborne.

“Alright, target two Wyverns per enemy aircraft, lets cleat the skies,” Harrison ordered, using double-redundancy to ensure a hit. “Fire.”

There were roughly twenty four enemy aircraft in the skies over Christchurch. The Vindicator opened fire with twice that number of missiles, a pair homing in on each target. The enemy broke off their attacks on the South Island forces to try and evade the missiles. It seemed that they had thought their singular bomb and managed to incapacitate the Imperial Battlecruiser, and the young Lieutenants sporadic fire had only added to that, they had clearly not been expecting a full AAW defence from the Battlecruiser, and it was there that they had made their main mistake. Explosions began to fill the sky as the Imperial missiles hit home, those that survived were quickly targeted by the South Island fighters that had used the cover fire from Vindicator to get into the air. The enemy had been relying on the element of surprise, but had apparently not anticipated the speed at which both the Vindicator and the South Island Defence Forces would respond. Now this obviously wasn’t the end of the attack but it would at least give the Vindicator time to lick her wounds and get out to sea, as the enemy was no doubt launching a naval assault if they thought that the main naval presence anywhere on the South Island (The Vindicator) was out of action.

“Take us out Helm, keep us moving but within range of Christchurch, we have got to cover them,” Harrison ordered grimly, then turned to his radar operator. “How the hell did we not get a warning?”

“They never appeared on our scopes, they probably came low over the water on the straits, used land cover to evade our radar and that of the SIDF before striking,” The Officer replied. “Given the distance, we should be glad they failed to capitalise on their attack.”

“Sir, fire parties report that they have the fire to aft under control.”

“Excellent, away the damage control parties, report status of the mount as well as damage to the surrounding areas,” Harrison ordered swiftly. “I also want to know of the helicopter deck is still operational, we’ve got two other choppers below decks, let’s see if they are still working.”

“Sir, we are receiving flash traffic from SIDF Headquarters, they want to know if we are going to be staying.”

“Damn Right we are, let them know that we stand ready to assist in any way required,” Harrison ordered. “Also, send to Admiralty, Urgent, have been engaged by North Island Forces, defending self and South Island DF from hostile attack, request instructions and assistance.”

[Pyschotika]

OOC: Placing Contest here. Also, I'm a full timer with an odd off schedule so I will try my best to get content up for you and others soon.

[The Free Monarchy of Daragal]

Charlie Harrison
Wellington, North Island, New Zealand
Saturday 3rd November, 2012, 1220 hours local time.

Charlie stared at the reports they were getting over the computer of the government's failed attack on Christchurch a few hours ago. He sighed, and walked away from the makeshift intelligence center they had, made up of a wall of televisions and laptops. It had always been like this, fighting against the North Island Government with whatever they had. At least they had some semblence of modern technology. As he was thinking this, a young boy ran in the door.
"Charlie, there are soldiers coming up the street!"
At this the 5 or 6 people in the house, generally in charge of intelligence and strategy operations, jumped up. Charlie scowled, and began whispering.
"Ok guys, you know the drill. Grab your rifles, and if they come any closer, let hell loose."

Outside a patrol of government soldiers were slowly walking up the sloped street, carefully examining each of the suburban houses in front of them. Suddenly they stopped, and one of them gave a shout.
"Hey guys, its 01013 day, right?"

Charlie sighed with relief. They had given the code, and signalled they were friends. Still best to stay on the safe side. He turned to the two crouching men behind him and signalled to them to keep their guns trained on the soldiers. He stood up from a bush in the second house along the street, and walked towards the patrol.
"Hey guys, what news?"
The leader of the patrol motioned to a bag they were carrying.
"We mananged to get you a few more guns, and we were told to tell you that we've almost convinced General McAllison to our cause."
Charlie grinned, and as he grabbed the bag he nodded.
"Tell the boys to keep it up. If we get the General, we have the military, and then we can really get started."

[Terra Reborn]

Admiral Dame Victoria Grisham, DCSS, First Sea Lord
The Admiralty, Karin City, Alaska
The Northern Territories of the Apilonian Empire
Friday 2nd November 2012, 0430hrs Local Time (0430hrs Imperial Capital Time, 1230hrs Zulu Time)

Half an hour had passed since the attack on the South Island of New Zealand had begun. It had taken just under twenty minutes to get the First Sea Lord, Admiral Dame Victoria Grisham, from her home in the upscale part of Karin City that was the neighbourhood in which senior government officials and military personnel tended to live, to the Admiralty Building in the Government Quarter of Karin City. It went without saying that an attack on an Imperial Warship was the kind of thing that tended to attract the attention of the First Sea Lord and a number of other high-ranking Admirals, even at such an ungodly hour. But even as she scowled at this thought Grisham reminded herself that right now there were Imperial Sailors fighting for their lives in what was essentially an unprovoked attack and this knowledge was primarily what focused her tired and weary mind on the matter at hand; besides she had gotten at least three hours sleep, she had continued to work on less before, at least for a few days before the inevitable crash.

Victoria Grisham had been a Flag Officer in the Australian Navy prior to its inclusion into the Empire, she had stayed with the Navy during the transition before being promoted to the senior position in the Imperial Navy, a true sign of the integration between the two services, and indeed the Australian territories into the Empire, which were rapidly becoming Imperial as any other whilst retaining their own distinctive culture and traditions, whilst adding some of the Empire’s into their own. She was proud to be an Officer of the Imperial Navy and was a loyal subject of King Walker who had quickly become to the Australians, just as he was to those from North America, a stalwart and trusted leader, above the pettiness of politics and only doing what was best for the nation. Of course having come from a democracy they appreciated the Imperial Parliament and the fact that the vast majority of law making was done by the elected government, but having a non-partisan Monarch at the top, both to prevent any abuses and to make laws that were too politically sensitive for any party to do was obvious. It was a unique system, whilst not a Constitutional Monarch, Walker accepted several restraints on his power, but as an Absolute Monarch (technically) they were at his pleasure, but Walker (and his line) was far too honourable to ever abuse that.

As one of the most senior military officers in the Empire Grisham had been briefed on the situation well in advance and knew how important securing New Zealand was, given that once again it had proven incapable of governing itself. Hundreds of years ago the islands of New Zealand had been an Imperial Colony, the edge of Empire in fact, before they had successfully petitioned for Independence and been granted it. Ever since the islands had gone from one short-lived government to another and it was considered a sore point for the Empire, as they felt that they had failed to ensure that it was governed. There had always been plans to annex the islands especially since the South Island was friendly to the Empire and amenable to the idea, especially given the historical ties with the Empire and the fact that the culture was very Apilonian in character and had remained so over hundreds of years of history at a sub-conscious level. It only made sense that following the acquisition of Australia the Empire would turn its attention on New Zealand.

“Alright people, I refused a briefing on the way in to avoid throttling myself with frustration, so give me a round-up,” Grisham stated as she strode into the Admiralty Operations Room. “Lay it out for me.”

“North Island Forces have launched an attack on the South Island, specifically the City of Christchurch and in the process they dropped a bomb on HMS Vindicator,” Admiral Sir John White, Imperial Fleet Commander, reported to both Grisham and the other assembled Admirals. “We don’t know whether or not it was intentional or not but the Vindicator assumed it was on purpose and has joined in on the defence, giving time for local forces to take off from the base at Woodbourne.”

White paused.

“We are getting indications that the enemy has launched a number of cruise missiles from stations on the south coast of the North Island, chances are that they are reloading and will fire again soon,” White added. “We can only assume that they will attempt a ground invasion at some point in the near future.”

“Alright, order the Vindicator to fire off Imsdal Cruise Missile salvos, link them in with Imperial Intelligence to target as many of the cruise missile sites on the South Coast, and any other targets of opportunity,” Grisham ordered. “Captain Sinclair is also to engage in operations against North Island naval forces if the chance arises, but I don’t want to lose our only presence down there.”

“Ma’am, Captain Sinclair is dead, a Lieutenant Commander Harrison is in command,” One of the other officers reported.

“Is he up for it?” Grisham questioned.

“He’s asked for instructions, so needs some guidance, but I’d say so,” Admiral White nodded.

“Alright, well he’s got carte blanche to try and deal some damage to the enemy, but I don’t want him getting careless,” Grisham instructed grimly. “Looks like I get to wake the Chief of the Defence Staff, I want someone to get onto Admiral Deaver down at IMPFORAUS, recommend that he starts thinking about some troops we’ll no doubt want to send. Alright, there is nothing more we can do down there until we wake up the CDS and get the King in on this, how are things going in India?”

“Well, so far, the Reprisal is about five days out with Rear Admiral Standford and General Anchorage aboard, they’ll rendezvous with the Imperial Yacht and escort the Monarch into Bangalore dropping off the General,” White replied. “They’ll then head around to the main RSI Naval Base at Vishakapatnam, as you know Ma’am the vast majority of the old Republic of India Navy was based in the South, and even after defections to the North they’ve still got the vast majority of personnel and equipment, including seven major supercarriers, Standford is to meet with their Chief of Naval Operations to discuss integration with the Imperial Navy. Obviously one would presume that they’ll want to keep an Indian Officer in command of any Imperial Indian Fleet.”

“And rightly so, it’s worked well enough down in Australia, don’t see why it can’t work here, as time passes we can start switching the command assignments around, but for now it’s better keeping it to whatever works,” Grisham nodded. “But what the devil is General Anchorage doing over there?”

“Most of the Indian Army was up north, the only ground troops that the RSI has at its command is half a million Marines, Anchorage is there to establish a new, proper Army over there, including both some converted Marines and new recruits,” White answered. “He’s also slated to take up the post of commanding officer of the Indian Army Group once we stand up the two Field Armies that are being projected out there, based on population and defence needs, he’ll be the only non-Indian component commander out there.”

“Is the King going down there really the best idea? Given what is going down in the North” Grisham sighed. “But I suppose we can’t stop him, and besides it should do some good in getting that vote through. When does Commander Harrison expect to be able to launch his attack?”

“We are linking in the targets, he is intending to fire at approximately-oh-two-hundred local time, that’s oh-five-hundred our time, about twenty minutes,” White replied.

“Alright, keep me updated, I need to brief the CDS,” Grisham said grimly. “Hold onto your hats people, this is going to be a bumpy ride.”

[The Free Monarchy of Daragal]

Charlie Harrison
Wellington CBD
Sunday 4th November, 0600 hours local time

Charlie yawned as he peered through the small pair of binoculars he had at the Beehive and Parliament Buildings. He was standing in a large conference room, well decorated with oak paneling and an intricately carved wooden table along the middle. He had been here for the majority of the night as he waited for the beginning of the new age. All around Wellington, rebels and sympathizers had been placed at strategic locations, awaiting his signal, ready to wrestle Wellington out of the grasp of the Government. The same thing was happening in Auckland, Taupo, New Plymouth and Whangarei, everything ready for a decisive push to stop the dictatorship that the North Island had become from continuing. He turned around, and casually walked to the back, where a small array of computers had been set up, all manned by three men. He peered over the shoulder of one and read the latest report they had received from their military sympathizers, when suddenly his phone rang. He bit his lip, and answered. Over it came three words.
"Begin it now."
And the call was cancelled. He began issuing orders.
"Okay boys, we're in it now. Send messages through to all units telling them to get started, and tell our friends in the Beehive to begin causing chaos."
Outside the sun rose over the top of the hills, as the first shots of many began to go off.

General David McAllister
General's Office, The Beehive
Sunday 4th November, 0605 local time

David peered out of his office, looking both ways, seeing nobody he withdrew back into his office. He double checked his phone to make sure that what he was reading was true, and sighed. On his phone's screen was:

Plan 82 is a go, begin withdrawal.

He had only agreed to take part in the insurgency yesterday, and he was already being ordered to leave the Beehive and hide himself. He frowned, but he did agree that it was probably for the best. When he had joined up in the military, he had thought he would be helping his nation, but as he progressed through the ranks he became more and more disillusioned. Now he was making a difference, and he didn't intend to mess it up. He grabbed the previously packed briefcase, containing a pistol and a number of sensitive documents, and began to walk out of his office. He could hear guns being fired, and people shouting, but the chaos didn't seem to have reached his floor yet. He reached the elevator, and punched in the number for the ground floor. He waited for a minute or so, every second expecting a hand to fall on his back, or a gun to be poked into his head. Finally the doors dinged, and he walked in. The lift quickly began to descend, and he soon reached the bottom floor of the Beehive. As the doors opened he realized he was in the middle of a battlefield, and ducked as suddenly the distant shots he had been hearing became all the closer. Rebel forces seemed to have taken the lobby, helped by the fact that as soon as the Plan had been initiated, the majority of the gaurds had turned on their comrades in favour of the rebel forces. Suddenly two figures appeared at the lift doors, and he looked up. Above him stood two plainly-dressed men holding hunting rifles, the closest to him motioned for him to get up and asked.
"You General McAllister?"
He nodded weakly.
"Well c'mon, Charlie's waiting for you!"
The two soldiers began on a fast walk towards the exit, and he followed. Outside they jumped into a Volvo and drove off towards the CBD base, where Charlie was waiting.

Charlie Harrison
Wellington CBD
Sunday 4th November, 0631 hours local time

Charlie smiled, all over Wellington the offensive had succeeded, with the airport, harbour and parliament all being seized. Loyalist forces still held out in Seatoun, but were already being pushed back by advancing soldiers. They had retrieved General McAllister, and the majority of the Beehive workforce. Overall it had been a great success. Suddenly he was broken out of his thoughts as a camera was trained on him.
"Okay Charlie, we're ready when you are."
Against the background of Wellington CBD, he began to speak.

Citizens of the North and South Islands, and nations of the world. I am Charlie Harrison. Recently an dictatorship, based in the North Island of New Zealand, has sprung up, threatening the safety of both it's citizens, and that of the South Island. Today we managed to defeat that dictatorship, but we need support. I urge you, rise up wherever you are, and challenge the soldiers. Stop them from abusing your rights and your freedom. To the nations of the world, help us, we need support. Once we have completely gotten rid of this malicious government, then our appreciation of your help will be tenfold. I thank you."

[Terra Reborn]

Lieutenant Commander Greg Harrison, Imperial Navy
H.M.S. Vindicator, South Island, New Zealand
The South Pacific
Saturday 3rd November 2012, 0200hrs Local Time (0500hrs Imperial Capital Time (2/11/12), 1300hrs Zulu Time (2/11/12))

The situation had finally stabilised for the Vindicator, the North Island forces had failed to follow up on their attack, seemingly they had not anticipated to take the casualties they had at the hands of the Imperial Warship. In the time that had passed they had managed to begin emergency repairs on what needed to be repaired, and could be, but the aft most turret was a total loss and would need to be replaced in a shipyard, but the vast majority of the ships armament remained intact. This was a good thing as even the closest reinforcements from Australia would take over a day to reach them, and Harrison severely doubted that the North Island was going to let them get away with that for so long. They were no doubt going to attack at some point in the near future and Harrison wanted to ensure that the ship was ready to fend off any attack when it came. The North Island was known to have a small naval force but if they used it properly, especially with air support, the Vindicator was in trouble.

It was obvious what was going on here. The North Island Junta was hoping to win a Short Victorious War to get popular opinion on their side, if the Empire could utterly shatter this attack it might help the resistance elements in the North Island to get their own popular support. That meant that they had to react quickly, if they could defeat the enemy Navy and bombard shore positions then they would effectively have carte blanche to operate around the North Island and then they could take it from there, if the need arose they would annex the North Island, but if a resistance movement sprung up in the North then the Empire would be content with simply absorbing the South Island as was most likely to happen, especially given the recent events, it was incredibly unlikely that the South Islanders would support any sort of union with the North, both long term and short term historical distrust would prevent that from happening, the trust simply wasn’t there and that meant that no union could work. The trust was there with the Empire, both historically and in the past few months, so that would be much more likely to be successful.

There had, unfortunately, been some more bad news. The executive officer had been found dead, seemingly he had been leading an attempt to fight the fire and had lost his life in the attempt, which meant that there was no one else coming, he was the de facto acting commanding officer of the Vindicator, at least in the short term. That meant that when the communication from the Admiralty came in it was with a heavy heart that he moved over to the comm station where he gathered his senior staff to listen to the briefing.

“H.M.S. Vindicator, this is Admiral Grisham, how you hearing me down there?”

“This is Lieutenant Commander Harrison, acting commander of the Vindicator, we are receiving you loud and clear, Ma’am” Harrison said grimly.

“Commander, I understand that you and your crew have been through a lot, but we’ve got to strike back as quickly as possible, we cannot afford to be tied up down there,” Grisham instructed her voice as grim as his. “Your first objective is to hit fifty-six targets of military value we have identified, there are three different sets.”

“Alright Admiral, I’ve got me PWO with me, lay them out for us,” Harrison nodded.

“The First Wave is to hit a number of cruise missile and anti-ship missile launchers on the North Island that would either be of danger to the South Island or to your own command, you will fire sixteen missiles at sixteen different sites,” Grisham replied. “The Second Wave is to target enemy airfields, hopefully dealing with the enemy air force, we’ve targeted bases we know to be specialised at naval defence, should make your job easier you will fire thirty missiles at them. The Third is the enemy naval depot, the enemy ships are at sea so you’ll have to deal with them yourselves, but if you can take out their infrastructure, it’ll make your job a lot easier.”

“Understood, Ma’am, well get on it immediately,” Harrison nodded. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes, short of an Aircraft Carrier being sent out there the Vindicator is going to be the largest ship we have there, and I don’t want to screw over the chain of command any more by bringing in another officer,” Grisham said. “I’m granting you a Field Promotion to the Rank of Captain, Mister Harrison, don’t let me down.”

Harrison glanced around at what were now effectively his senior officers and saw the same surprise on their faces that was on his own. A Field Promotion was fairly rare outside of a full scale conflict and a jump-step promotion in the field was even rarer, indeed only the rapid promotion of Viscountess Standford from Captain to Rear Admiral (missing out Commodore) was the only one that sprang to mind, and it was humbling to be included in the same unique group. He could see why, no matter how serious this situation was it didn’t justify anything more substantial than a few destroyers and frigates over to help the Vindicator, which meant that it would be serving as the flagship of the ad hoc squadron, and to keep it effective the commander of the Vindicator needed to be suitably ranked, and as regulations stated that the commanding officer of a Saga-Class vessel needed to be at least a Captain. In either case it was a great honour and despite the situation he knew that it had done substantial good for his career as it was unlikely that he would be relieved of command of the Vindicator unless he royally screwed up during the next few weeks.

“I understand Admiral, we’ll launch the strike,” Harrison replied. “I then intend to sail north and seek and destroy the enemy Navy, unless you have any objections.”

“No objections up here, Captain, give them hell.”

“Aye-Aye, Ma’am, we’ll keep you updated,” Harrison said. “Vindicator Out.”

There was a few moments of stunned silence before congratulations were bandied around and promptly after that the plans for launching the strikes began. Within ten further minutes all of the co-ordinates had been placed in for the first wave and without further ado the first wave of sixteen missiles were launched in a ripple from the VLS and disappeared into the night, heading northwards to strike a number of targets on the coast. Before long the rest of the missiles had been fired and were on their way to the targets. The Empire was being careful to only target military installations, if they couldn’t be hit then they would be left alone until they could be cleared by ground troops if it came to that. For now they had a job to do and that meant sailing north, essentially looking for trouble as they sought out any enemy vessels that would no doubt he heading south to deal with the ship that would have just crippled their naval and air defences quite effectively, at least in the southern regions of the North Island anyway, not wanting to take the risk of follow-up strikes. Unfortunately the Vindicator had fired all of her cruise missiles now, and would need to be reloaded at some point in the near future. But for now they needed anti-ship missiles and that was what they had.

“Comms, inform Admiral Grisham that we’ve launched successfully and are heading north on seek and destroy,” Harrison ordered. “Pass the same message onto our liaison with the SIDF and ask them to wish us luck.”

[Terra Reborn]

Captain Greg Harrison, Imperial Navy
H.M.S. [i]Vindicator[/i], Cook Strait, New Zealand
The South Pacific
Saturday 3rd November 2012, 0300hrs Local Time (0600hrs Imperial Capital Time (2/11/12), 1400hrs Zulu Time (2/11/12))

“Sir, we’ve got five vessels being relayed to us by a South Island P-3,” Lieutenant Jason Riches, the officer who had taken up Harrison’s place as Principle Warfare Officer. “Looks like four frigates headed up by a destroyer, based on the signature it’s an Arleigh Burke leading four Type-23 Frigates.”

Harrison frowned at the display as the information from the P-3 was routed onto his tactical system, uncomfortably catching sight of the extra rank insignia on his shoulder epaulettes, they had been respectfully retrieved from the Captain’s spares in his cabin, the crew had figured that the Captain would have wanted his replacement, especially through combat, to make use of his rank slides, in the case of a Captain the four golden bands plus the loop distinctive to Imperial Naval Rank Insignia. But he had a duty to do and he had to do it. Never the less five enemy vessels was no mean feat, not even for a Heavy Cruiser like the Vindicator, if the enemy commander was smart he could very well get the upper hand and that was not what Harrison wanted, his crew was in the danger zone here and although it was his job to get them safely home they also had a duty, and right now that was to defend the South Island. Without his ship the enemy would have a much easier time of overwhelming the much less substantial defences that the South Island could muster with its smaller population, and that couldn’t be allowed.

It seemed that the enemy was spreading out, this was both a blessing and a curse. From an offensive point of view it meant that they would face less combined defensive fire, and thus more missiles would get through and hopefully sink the enemy. From a defensive point of view it was a nightmare, they would have missiles coming in on numerous different vectors, making the more substantial defences of the Vindicator all the more vital. It seemed that whoever was in command over there had his head on straight and would be doing his best to destroy the Vindicator. He quickly brought up the armamants he had read a few days before they arrived here, based on the intelligence they had. Between the frigates the enemy had thirty-two Harpoon missiles, added to the dozen or two missiles carried aboard the enemy destroyer, depending on the armament outfitting the enemy had chosen. Never the less that meant upwards to about sixty enemy missiles coming their way soon, and considering that they had expended a number of missiles in the last engagement it was going to be a tight thing if the enemy got enough missiles in.

The longer range of the AMESMs carried by the Vindicator was going to pay dividends. But only just. The Harpoons had a range of seventy nautical miles and although the AMESMs were far superior to that they had only detected the enemy at eighty miles, meaning that the advantage would be fleeting and the enemy would manage to get their shots off before Imperial missiles arrived. The frist priority was to deal with the enemy destroyer and take it out of the fight.

“Target twelve missiles at the enemy destroyer once the enemy frigates move out of Sea Wolf Range,” Harrison instructed, wanting to prevent the Frigates from protecting their flagship, he wanted to take out the enemy commander and twelve missiles going in on a low sea-skimming trajectory would be enough. “Fire three missiles at each of the enemy frigates, Destroyer first people, Open up.”

The Vindicator opened fire, her missiles almost immediately dropped to only a few meters above the sea, which would keep it from being detected by the enemy for longer, especially as there had not been any remote sensing detected on the part of the enemy, mainly because the North Island P-3s had been destroyed by the cruise missiles that the Vindicator had launched an hour previously. These were shortly followed up by the rest of the AMESM missiles carried by the Vindicator leaving her with just the Midgardsorm Heavy Missiles that were much more suited for dealing with enemy Battleships and Aircraft Carriers than escorts and thus Harrison was loath to use them. In any case this Imperial salvo was only a portion of the way there when, seventy miles to the North, just off Wellington in the Cook Strait, the enemy opened fire. They had fanned out and this the Vindicator found itself facing down as many missiles as feared, fifty-six in total, coming in on a number of different vectors. Thankfully the P-3 that was holding position safely away from the fight provided the warfare staff aboard the Vindicator with ample warning, as soon as they were airborne interception was being planned and launched.

In total the enemy had fired over twice the number of missiles than the Vindicator, but the results showed the value of having early warning about incoming missiles. The Vindicator’s warfare suite had been able to follow and intercept the enemy missiles from launch, despite their sea-skimming trajectory, and as such the missiles that were launched to meet them did so many miles away from the Imperial Warship, dealing with half of their number outright, another half were dealt with by RIM-162 ESSMs fired once it became clear what was left and of the fourteen missiles that remained eight of them were handled by the combined gun/RAM-missile CIWS, and of the remaining four half were pulled off course by last ditch countermeasures. That of course left two missiles to slam into the Cruiser. By contrast the enemy had had far less time to defend against the missiles, to the extent that they had only been able to fire close-range point defence missiles rather than weapons that could hit them at longer ranges. Three missiles slammed into the enemy destroyer, and of the four frigates three of them were struck by at least one missile apiece, two in one case, one frigate with an excellent tactical team had managed to destroy all three missiles.

The enemy destroyer was listing heavily and going down having taken two direct hits and a further glancing strike, her crew were abandoning ship. The two frigates that had been struck by a single missile were either listing themselves or on fire, the one that had taken two hits was already slipping beneath the waves, the one that had managed to survive hits was making to pick up the survivors from its comrades, something that Harrison could respect and would at least give the enemy ship a chance to surrender before blasting it, and the survivors, out of the water, in some cases for a second time in one night. Vindicator herself however had taken damage of her own, despite her formidable defensive efforts, aided by having early warning, she had still taken two near misses, which had caused some blast damage, but had also taken two direct hits, one in the bows and one amidships. The one in the bows was relatively superficial, the one amidships was much more damaging and it was causing a list to port even as damage control parties scrambled to seal off the appropriate bulkheads in an effort to save the ship.

“Mister Pulling, damage report if you please?” Harrison requested over the flurry of loud activity on the bridge of his ship.

“We’ve taken a direct hit amidships on the port side, on the waterline, listing five degrees to port, emergency bulkheads have been closed and DC parties are getting a full grasp of what happened,” Lieutenant Commander Pulling, his acting executive officer, reported. “Bow hit, above the waterline looks ugly as hell but is not a threat to the ship.”

“What speed can we maintain?” Harrison scowled.

“Ten knots, if that, anything else risks damaging the hull even more,” Lt. Commander Pulling, who had formally been the Chief Engineering Officer, replied with a sigh, and Harrison knew he would much rather be with his engineering teams.

“Alright, what sort of tactical capabilities do we have left?”

“The blast screwed over the search radar, we can’t hit anything on the surface, we should still have the ASR,” Pulling answered. “We can probably fire Air to air missiles but we can’t hit anything on the surface, well, we could probably do it the old fashioned way with guns.”

“Jesus, not even Viscountess Standford engaged in a gun duel without the god damn radar,” Harrison commented wryly. “Well, at least we get to make history. Helm Officer, take us North, I want us within range of that frigate.”

Over the next three hours the Vindicator cruised slowly northwards, as fast as was safe whilst the damage control parties worked hard to ensure that the ship didn’t start foundering. The maximum effective range of the 8 Inch forward guns of the Cruiser was twenty-nine nautical missiles, the frigate only twenty-two, and after three hours they had crossed thirty nautical miles and were approaching the range. Despite the danger to themselves the enemy frigate had not attempted to run, instead they had spent the time picking up the survivors from their counterparts that had now all gone down or capsized. At the end of the day this engagement was a victory for the Imperial Navy, they had sunk four enemy vessels and taken ‘only’ moderate damage to the lone Imperial Warship that had managed to deal with its enemies in fine fashion. Perhaps the remaining enemy frigate had decided that enough was enough and that the best course of action was to surrender when the time came. This was what Harrison personally hoped was the case, the last thing he wanted to do was blow up a ship of survivors who couldn’t fight back.


“Sir, we are twenty-nine nautical miles from the target,” Lieutenant Riches reported. “Orders, Sir?”

“Target a straddling shot, let’s give them a warning,” Harrison ordered. “Two rounds only, Fire.”

The forward most gun of the Vindicator opened fire, sending a pair of rounds hurtling at the enemy vessel, splashing on either side of the enemy vessel, causing sizable plumes of water to appear on either side, no doubt startling the enemy. With the warning shot fired it was time to demand the surrender and see what happened. Harrison took up the radio mic and spoke into it on a general channel.

“Attention North Island Warship, this is Captain Greg Harrison of the Imperial Warship Vindicator. You are incapable of resisting us, surrender immediately and I will take your vessel into custody for the duration of the hostilities,” Harrison said grimly. “Refuse and I will not hesitate to destroy your vessel.”

Five minutes later the word came that the enemy was striking their colours.

[Layarteb]

November 4, 2012 - 01:00 hrs [UTC+13]
Oban, Stewart Island
Stewart Island Government Hall
(46°54'9.12" S, 168° 8'3.26" E)

It was a lot chillier than the Minister of Foreign Affairs would have preferred when he stepped out of the small, Cessna 208 Caravan that had shuttled him from Invercargill to Stewart Island. He had spent the better part of the past twenty-one hours flying from Layarteb City to Hawaii, where his aircraft was refueled, and then down to Invercargill where he transferred to the smaller aircraft to get to Stewart Island. He was exhausted to say the least but he had composed himself in the lavatory of the Gulfstream G650 before getting out of it and thus he looked like a member of the Layartebian government. At the airport, he was met by Colonel Niles Anderson, the highest ranking military officer on Stewart Island and as he escorted the Minister of Foreign Affairs to the government's central building, the Minister of Foreign Affairs couldn't help but notice the strong, military presence on the island.

"Colonel, is this island under military rule?" He asked almost immediately, knowing that this would change negotiations.

"No it is not, the military has a bolstered presence because of the occurrences the other day regarding the air attack on Christchurch. We fear that the Northerners will attack us here due to our commerce center." Stewart Island had been built up by the Republic of Tavok to be a major commerce center. Goods could come in through the ports and get up to the South Island and to Australia with little delay. They were in the process of expanding the island's small airport when the coup happened. The second runway sat with only half of its construction completed.

"Is there a reason then that you met me and not Governor Merrik?"

"Yes, Governor Merrik wanted to make sure that your lodgings were in order before hand. I assure you Minister; there is no foul play in development here."

"Thank you Colonel. You must recognize our concerns with regards to the events to the north."

"Yes we do, we are just as on edge. Is the Empire planning to move on the North Island?"

"Not at this time Colonel, the Apilonians seem to have more of an interest than we have."

"That is understood. For measure, we have closed our end of the Foveaux Strait Bridge-Tunnel." The Foveaux Strait Bridge-Tunnel was a combined bridge and tunnel system that ran from Bluff on the South Island to Ruapuke Island to Oban. There were two bridges and two tunnels and it was designed like the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel except the bridges weren't causeways, they were suspension bridges. Oban, the only population center on Stewart Island had been called Halfmoon Bay before the Tavokians came to New Zealand. It had a population of four hundred at the time and now it had a population of four thousand, being bigger than but similar to Stanley on the Falkland Islands. As a commercial center, it was full of very nice houses and very modern roadways, having come a long way since before.

Governor Merrik greeted them as they pulled up to the modest but functional government building. "Mister Minister, good to meet you," he said, extending his hand. He looked stressed but not under duress, a good sign, and as such, the Minister of Foreign Affairs and Colonel Anderson walked into the building with Governor Merrik and to his office, where they would meet. Tea and other snacks were laid out but nothing too large owing to the hour. "Minister, I have arranged for a light collation of snacks and tea. Would you like to retire for the remainder of the evening and meet in the late morning? I assume you are very tired from the flight."

"Governor, I can say with some delight that I am accustomed to such flights. I slept periodically on the flight and the aircraft is very comfortable. I am okay to discuss our plans."

"Well, that is some relief to the Colonel and me. I must confess, we are a bit anxious, especially after the Christchurch attack."

"A rather brazen attack, don't you believe?"

"Yes we do," Colonel Anderson responded. "We have our air defenses on full alert."

"What capacity do you have Colonel?" They entered Governor Merrik's office and closed the doors behind them. Sentries stood guard at the door and saluted as Colonel Anderson walked by.

"Not much Minister, we won't be able to fend off an air attack for long. I only have four air defense units, two Avenger mobile units posted outside and at the airport and two NASAMS II units posted to the south and east to provide comprehensive coverage."

"Any surface-to-surface capabilities?"

"Just two, Block II Harpoon launchers with eight missiles at the ready and another twenty-four in storage; not a lot there either Minister."

"Air capabilities?"

"One squadron of attack helicopters that we can use in an anti-ship role and twelve fighters."

"Maritime?"

"Coastal patrol boats, one frigate that we have hidden to the south within air defense range of Oban."

"And I assume the ground forces are of the same order?"

"Light armor only, no tanks, some artillery."

"Jesus Colonel, time is not on your side of the Northerners take the South Island."

"No it is not Minister." Governor Merrik poured the last cup of tea and handed it to Colonel Anderson before taking a seat around a beautiful, mahogany coffee table in the center of his office.

"Governor, let's cut to the chase then, shall we?"

"Please Minister." Governor Anderson began, "We want protectorate status from the Empire."

"In the capacity of what country?"

"Minister we have studied the history of the Empire. The Colony of Denmad, Crete, and several Caribbean Islands received protectorate status."

"They are all part of the Empire now though. Annexation through mostly peaceful means. A few Caribbean Islands did fight back but they regret that decision now. Is Stewart Island and its population willing for a peaceful inclusion into the Empire like Crete or not?"

"How receptive would the Empire be to giving us independence?"

"In the wake of Hawaii and the Solomon's and the troubles we had there, I cannot guarantee that we would be. You are more than aware of the situation with the Empire of Hi No Moto and the Apilonians are getting very big, very fast, which has not boded well for many nations of the world. New Zealand alone has gone through government after government and should it fall into the hands of the Hi No Motons, it would put the Empire at such a severe disadvantage that we would have to take the island group by force."

"All of this we understand but you can see why we have come to you here. We cannot take this back-and-forth with the islands to the north anymore. The Tavokians were kind and they built our island up to something useful, which means in the constant struggle between North and South, we are a prime target and battleground. Now we have no love for the north. The junta that rules there is composed of nothing but savages who will slaughter everyone who gets in their way. The Southerners, on the other hand, are entirely different. They're democratic ways appeal to us and we would prefer to remain with them but the constant back-and-forth between the two islands is too much right now. Until the situation settles down, we need some sense of safety. If the North and South go back at it, and we fully believe that they will, as I am sure your intelligence believes," at this the Minister of Foreign Affairs nodded his head in agreement. "Then we don't want to be a part of it. We do not want our city, our island, our infrastructure destroyed because those two islands cannot come to terms of agreement."

"Understood but you must understand, we are not going to come here simply to be nice Governor. We have done that in the past and it is no longer our policy. If we assume protectorate status over Stewart Island and its people and its military we are going to want to annex it into the Western Republic. You are familiar with how the Western Republic operates?"

"We are."

"You would maintain your sovereignty indeed and in situations such as this your staff would remain in place and your military would be folded into ours. People would not lose their ranks, titles, or jobs. And we would prefer to do this without trading bullets. We are fully aware of the defense you could mount and though I am sure we would be victorious, simply putting number for number, the loss of life on both sides would be catastrophic. The Empire values life Governor. I regret to say that these terms are non-negotiable but let me give you this positive assurance. Should you wish not to accept our protectorate status, we would not invade you to take this island but we would not step in to help if the Northerners decided to." These were strong words and strong words they had to be in this situation. This wasn't what either Colonel Anderson or Governor Merrik wanted to hear but they had, deep down, expected to hear as much.

"Minister, we will invite you to remain here at our expense. Tomorrow I will meet with my Cabinet and the military leadership of this island to discuss further action. I cannot act alone."

"Understood Governor, thank you for your hospitality."

[Terra Reborn]

His Majesty King Walker of Apilonia
H.M.Y. Apilonia, Five Hundred Miles East of the Horn of Africa, International Waters
The Indian Ocean
Friday 2nd November 2012, 2100hrs Local Time (1000hrs Imperial Capital Time, 1800hrs Zulu Time)

It really was beautiful on the open ocean at night, far away from any light pollution all of the stars overhead could be seen in all of their majesty, it was a remarkable sight that for the urbanised world was becoming rarer and rarer. It was at times like this that King Walker appreciated the Imperial Yacht, not to mention this entire idea. One might think that spending a month travelling around the world, visiting either the Empire’s far flung colonies or friendly (or at least neutral colonies), was not the ideal honeymoon, but for a King it was the best that you could get, besides the days and nights in between the stops were beautiful and of course even during the visits they were treated (rightfully) as Royalty and as such it was a working holiday more than anything, and both the King and his new Queen had realised that they were not going to be able to have a conventional honeymoon because they simply couldn’t be absent from affairs for a few weeks. The advanced systems aboard the Imperial Yacht allowed the King to keep in contact with His Government, and thus although he would be absent from Karin City, he would not be absent from the governmental process.

There was one exception of course. In a weeks’ time he would fly back to the Empire aboard Imperial One for Remembrance Weekend, which considering how many times Imperial Troops had been deployed into combat over the past years was becoming increasingly important. He would attend the Festival of Remembrance on Saturday 10th followed by the actual remembrance day ceremony at the Cenotaph in Karin city on the Sunday before flying out to India again to carry on aboard Apilonia down to the Australian leg of their honeymoon-come-voyage around the world/empire. It was the least they could do, besides it was traditional for the Monarch to be there so that was where he would be. Besides the Remembrance Ceremonies always touched his heart as a time that Apilonians all over the world, whatever their regional designator came together to remember those that had given their lives to allow those who lived to live in freedom and prosperity.

Walker stood in the bows of the Yacht and looked out over the dark sea, lit only by the moon and stars high overhead. The multimillion pound Yacht was state of the art and capable of keeping him in close contact with the government at all times, but it was also an incredibly peaceful and relaxing place, something he was grateful for. His first year as King was almost over, he had just over a month left, and so much had happened in that year it was unreal. The Empire had dramatically expanded, and if all went to plan would expand again before the year was out, wars had been fought and the ability of the Empire to protect itself had likewise grown immensely. He was ultimately proud of the work they had done, in places like Rhodes, Australia and Portugal where they had either ended or prevented atrocities. Walker knew that the Empire wasn’t perfect, no nation on Earth was, but it did a good job and it stood by its principles and that was good enough for him. Perhaps one day there would be peace and the Empire could grow and prosper in peace, not the storm of War.

It was partially this latter concern that necessitated the protective efforts around the Yacht. Aside from the platoon of Imperial Marines aboard the vessel was escorted by two Destroyers from the Imperial Navy, which had rotated as they had passed into different operational areas, the current vessels were from Bahrain. They hung a few miles ahead and aft of the Yacht but more than close enough to act of their King threatened. Walker somewhat doubted there would ever be a time that they could sail unescorted across the world, but it was a nice dream to have, even if it was unlikely to ever come about. Never the less despite all of this it was peaceful at night, and standing in the bows of his Yacht, looking up at the stars, Walker found a peace that had been all too absent within him for far too long with only brief interludes, mostly in regards to times with his now-wife, Jessica, who had without a doubt been instrumental in getting him through this first year of his reign with his sanity intact, a stalwart rock amidst stormy waters that he couldn’t imagine trying to do without anymore. It was ironic, perhaps, but he didn’t mind.

Walker smiled as he felt an arm slip around his middle and the warm, firm pressure of a body pressing up against him, and placed his own arm around her and pulled her closer to him.

“Hey,” Jessica said softly.

“Hey Back,” Walker replied with a smile. “It’s so quiet out here.”

“It is at that, and beautiful too,” Jessica nodded. “It’s not the most conventional of honeymoons, but I like the peace and quiet.”

“Me too,” Walker smiled. “We are going to be in for a busy week or so in India though, especially with what’s going on up North.”

“Perhaps, but if the North starts kicking off against the South they’ll lose all legitimacy in the South and start losing any support they may have there,” Jessica commented. “The thing to remember is that Singh wouldn’t have started this thing if she didn’t think she could get the vote, and the various polls and the like suggest she is correct.”

“You do have a point, democracy has failed so many times in India that they’ve no doubt had enough, not to mention the corrupt system of the USDP and the utter failure of the ROI,” Walker agreed. “Hopefully our mix of representation headed up by a monarch will give them the stability they want and deserve, it did for centuries under the First Empire, after all.”

“We’ll have to wait and see, but look at how beneficial it has been to both North America and to the South Pacific,” Jessica commented before adding softly. “And to me.”

Walker smiled and leant down to kiss her gently on the lips. Their moment together was interrupted by the arrival of one of the Imperial Marines who was stationed aboard the Yacht specifically charged with his protection, at sea the Guard gave way to the Marines. The young Marine saluted sharply and continued as if he had not seen the intimate moment he had interrupted.

“Your Majesties, we are receiving visual signal from Karin City, it’s the Chief of the Defence Staff,” He reported formally. “Captain Riker is routing it down to your office, Sir.”

“Thank you Corporal, we’ll head down there now,” Walker nodded.

The Marine saluted again before leaving to let the skipper know what was going on. The King and Queen made their way quickly from the deck into the ship itself until they reached his office aboard ship just in time to watch as one of the Navy crew activate the large plasma display that was on the wall opposite the desk. Walker settled into his chair whilst Jessica sat down on a sofa, also in view of the pick-up, and a few moments later the grim face of Admiral of the Fleet Sir Thomas Kittinger appeared on the display.

“Your Majesty, sorry to disturb your evening but we’ve got a situation that we can need to brief you on,” Kittinger said as means of preamble. “Six hours ago forces from the North Island of New Zealand launched and attack against the South Island, HMS Vindicator was at Christchurch at the time and was damaged during the attack, but aided in the defence and downed a number of aircraft. In the hours since the ship has launched a retaliatory cruise missile strike against enemy positions and has defeated a major surface force, for the area, although she has taken moderate damage herself.”

“Why am I just hearing this now?” Walker asked dangerously

“With respect, Sir, the Prime Minister felt that we could handle it until it became clear exactly what the situation was,” Kittinger replied, merely stating facts rather than trying to shift the blame. “When it became obvious that we were going to have to take some further actions down there, I was ordered to inform you and request permission to absorb the South Island as a Protectorate, which we believe would be accepted, and to begin punitive operations against the North Island.”

Walker scowled, not liking the explanation but accepting it. He also didn’t like the situation, the last thing they needed going into India was a mess developing in the South Pacific that could draw off resources from India. It was a damn difficult situation that would have to be delicately handled.

“Alright, permission on both is granted,” Walker nodded. “Now I understand that the North Island is believed to have a substantial resistance element.”

“We believe so, or at least that is what Six has been able to find out,” Kittinger replied, referring to the Secret Intelligence Service, or as it is known by the public, MI6.

“In that case we can assume that when we start curbstomping them into next week, they’ll gain support, I want this to be done carefully, no collateral damage,” Walker instructed. “If and when the resistance succeeds we’ll send a message of support ect, whilst maintaining our position on the South Island.”

Kittinger nodded as they moved onto the details. Over the next thirty-six hours the preperations for a resistance victory in the North Island went ahead whilst actions against the North Island continued, some from the mainland Australia, which effectively crippled the North’s ability to wage war. If they were going to go anywhere in the future from a military point of view they would require substantial assistance, and it was here that the Empire would use as its ‘in’ to gain influence. Therefore less than an hour after the missive from the North, a reply was sent, approved by the King.

The Imperial Foreign Office
Official Diplomatic Communiqué

TO: Charlie Harrison, North Island Resistance
FROM: Foreign Office, Apilonian Empire

Sir,

The Apilonian Empire greets the news of your overthrow of the dictatorial regime that had taken control of the North Island with pleasure and relief. As you are no doubt aware forces from the regime launched a substantial attack against the South Island, one that was rebuffed, largely with the aid of the Imperial Warship, HMS Vindicator, you are also no doubt aware that as of yesterday evening the South Island formally became an Imperial Protectorate. The Empire recognizes that you have succeeded in defeating the dictatorship of the North Island, however the given historical precedent the South Islanders have made it clear that they are distrustful of the North Island, and thus sought protection within the Empire.

The Apilonian Empire offers its full support in your nation’s genesis, including the sale of whatever equipment is required to replace those that were thrown against our forces by the dictators regime, as well as any practical and on-the-ground support as is required. In addition, if requested, the Empire stands ready to provide military assistance to ensure stability on the North Island for the foreseeable future.

Yours Sincerely
Rebecca O’Brien, Countess Thurston and His Majesty’s Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs

[The Free Monarchy of Daragal]

Prime Minister Charlie Harrison
The Beehive, Parliament, Wellington
Friday 3rd November, 0200hrs local time

Ever since the overthrow of the government, the Beehive had become a storm of activity. After it had become clear that the resistance had overcome the small loyalist forces, people erupted from the streets, volunteering their services. These people had been put to work, helping in hospitals, rebuilding and pretty much getting the North Island back on it's feet again.

Loyalist forces still held out, mainly in Palmerston North, however newly trained troops were being sent there every day, and they were slowly being overwhelmed. The majority of the army had sided with the resistance anyway, and so they controlled the majority of the ships, the only one still loyalist being the HMS Vindicator, however that was being left until later, more importance given to rebuilding and other more important projects.

Overall it had been a rather clean removal, with minimal casualties and destruction. This was of course attributed to Charlie Harrison, the mastermind of the whole operation. As such he had been immediately elected as interim Prime Minister, until proper elections could be held.

All these thoughts poured through his head as Charlie marched through the halls of the Beehive towards his new office. His eyes had dark rings around them as he finally slumped into his chair, drinking a steaming cup of coffee to wake himself up. He blinked a few times and glanced at his laptop, scrolling through the various emails. After replying to a few requests for more men or increased materials, he reached the one from Apilonia. Slamming the mug of coffee down on the table, he shouted out.
"Hey! Daniel, come in here!"
Hurrying through the door came a tall, handsome looking middle-aged man. He too looked rather tired, although maybe not as much so as his counterpart. He chuckled, and after setting down the laptop he had carried with him, he turned to his friend.
"Yeah Charlie? What's up?"
Charlie groaned and pushed his computer towards Daniel.
"Well, your my Minister of Foreign Affairs, you tell me."
After reading through the email a few times, Daniel sat down in the chair opposite.
"Well, Charlie, at least it means that we'll have an ally."
"Yeah, I know, but they bloody took the South Island! And we were just abut to finally have the islands together again on an even footing!"
Charlie sighed, and calmed down a bit.
"Okay, here's what we do. We gratefully accept their offer of friendship, that at least is good, and then we politely request that we may hold elections to decide whether the South Island becomes their protectorate or not. I can't allow them to take our brothers."
Daniel nodded apprehensively, and stood up.
"Ok Charlie, but i don't know if they'll like it."
Daniel stood, and walked to the door. Suddenly he turned, excited.
"Oh, and by the way, we received a message from a resistance group in Western Australia, who have seen our win, and are now requesting help as well. Personally I think we should, Australia has always been a close friend of New Zealand, and even though we're split up now, having allies there would be great."
Charlie smiled, and flashed a thumbs up at Daniel.
"Get on it, and make sure that nothing stops it."
Daniel hurried out, and Charlie took a deep breath, and dived into the sea of emails awaiting his tired eyes.

---

New Zealand Official Communication

To: Foreign Office, Apilonian Empire
From: Ministry of Foreign Affairs, New Zealand

Greetings,

First we would like to thank the Apilonian Empire for it's support in our campaign against the tyrant dictatorship which oppressed our nation for many a year. We would also like to thank you for your generous offer to sell to us equipment and support our efforts to become a powerful nation, as we once were.

We would like to purchase a few new cruisers and aircraft, in order to properly fulfill the requirements of our military, any help in this would be greatly appreciated.

However we would request that you cease your expansion into the South Island. We gained a large amount of support from there, where families and friends of ours live. We believe, that they wish to reunite with their counterpart (The North Island). We request that an election be held, to determine whether the population of the South Island wishes to reunite with us, or become a protectorate of the Apilonian Empire.

I assure you that we are extremely grateful for your support, and that we look forward to working with you in future.

Yours,
Daniel Gardal
New Zealand Minister of Foreign Affairs

[Layarteb]

OOC: Daragal, it is always advisable to enter a carriage return between paragraphs so we don't have giant text walls. Super hard on the eyes to read.

November 5, 2012 - 13:00 hrs [UTC+13]
Oban, Stewart Island
Stewart Island Government Hall
(46°54'9.12" S, 168° 8'3.26" E)

For Governor Merrik, November 4 had been a particularly troublesome day. News of the overthrow on the North Island of the military dictatorship rocked the confidence of those who supported any move to join the Empire as a protectorate. Combined with the news that the Empire wasn't going to be doing this out of the good of their heart, Governor Merrik faced tough questions all day long. Tempers flared more than once and he knew that no vote could be held. It was of his opinion that, regardless of whatever events transpired on the North Island, they would not be long lasting. The aggressiveness that the Apilonian Empire had already showed in expanding into the Oceanic region was worrisome and certainly, neither they nor the officials on the North Island would suffice for a divided New Zealand.

What Governor Merrik and the rest of his Cabinet didn't know was that the Empire was enacting a secondary plan. The 13th Amphibious Ready Group, normally based out of Sri Lanka had, in light of the situation in the South China Sea, put to sea in mid-September with its full complement of Marines. Until the first shots had been fired at Christchurch, the 13th ARG had been holding in a position north-northeast of North Island, with Fiji being its intended target. However, with that less-than-likely now, the 13th ARG received new marching orders, which saw the large battle group split into two elements. One element made for the Chatham Islands, departing an hour after the first sirens rang over Christchurch. The other element was looping around further to the east, remaining out of the line of fire and away from the watchful eyes of everyone involved and they would swoop in, arriving south of Stewart Island.

Transit time to the Chatham Islands was put at four days and four hours, meaning the element would arrive November 7 at 05:00 hours, local time. Transit time to Stewart Island was considerably longer at seven days and seventeen hours, putting on station on November 10 at 18:00 hours. Neither element was going to move faster than fifteen knots and in EMCON conditions, their main goal was to slip through the ways undetected. Steering clear of the two, main islands, they were going out of the way, so to speak just to achieve the sense of surprise that the Empire favored in these types of fragile situations.

Unbeknownst to Governor Merrik, the element tasked with coming to Stewart Island would have foreknowledge of their entire defensive plan, as communicated from the Minister of Foreign Affairs. The Empire would make an investment with Stewart Island more so than it would with the Chatham Islands but they certainly had their purpose. The Empire had set its sights on the Chatham Islands because of their location. On the eastern flank of New Zealand but the southern flank of the Empire's territories in the Coral Sea, the Chatham Islands were the perfect place to hide a Sea-Based Radar Platform, one of which was already en route across the Pacific from Hawaii via barge. From the Chatham Islands, the platform could easily observe the happenings on Fiji.

Of the twenty-two vessels to set sail from the 13th ARG, ten would go the Chatham Islands. They would include a County-class CHGN, one Dnalkrad-class FFGN, one Gotham-class LPD, one Harpers Ferry-class LSD, the Overburdened Flight I-class BBGN, one Sanitarium-class LSD, the Unforgiven-class CGN, one Verrazano-class DDEN, the Virginia Flight III-class SSN, and one Voodoo-class DDGN. Along with them would be a force of six hundred men or one battalion, with the necessary helicopter support. The rest of the ships, the Azores-class AOEN, the Caracas-class LHD, one County-class CHGN, one Dnalkrad-class FFGN, one Frigg-class LHA, one Gotham-class LPD, one Harpers Ferry-class LSD, the Macha-class BCGN, a Sanitarium-class LSD, a Verrazano-class DDEN, and two Voodoo-class DDGNs would all go to Stewart Island. They would have five thousand Marines, which was the balance of the Marine Division's 1st Brigade. The other two brigades were on Palau, where they had been moved. If an invasion of Fiji were to occur, they would have moved down in their group to join the 13th ARG for the landings on Fiji.

Back in Oban, Governor Merrik was breaking the news to the Minister of Foreign Affairs that the level of resistance to the plan was significantly high, especially considering the change in government on the North Island, some sort of truce between North and South, and the Apilonians' declarations concerning their presence in the area. The Empire's "hard line" concerning the future of Stewart Island was also a major limiting factor and the Minister of Foreign Affairs addressed the concerns individually, reassuring Governor Merrik that, should the Empire come to take control over Stewart Island, the promises of it joining the Western Republic would not be false. Furthermore, he sweetened the deal by guaranteeing that Stewart Island could be considered a Special Cultural Zone of the Empire much like the Balearic Islands and Cozumel Island were. Some of the Empire's strictest laws could be relaxed in SCZs and they had all of the benefits of a Special Economic Zone as well.

Governor Merrik promised a continued dialogue with his Cabinet, all the same worrying that the North was going to break out and move to secure Stewart Island in an attempt to gain a bargaining chip over South Island and the Apilonian Empire. They worried that ships from the North were already at sea, heading down through the Pacific or the Tasman Sea. Unbeknownst to them, while the Empire was moving its own vessels into place, it was also keeping very close watch on the Tasman Sea and the Pacific Ocean. If the need arose, they could fake data to show that a task force from North Island was indeed on its way to Stewart Island.

[Terra Reborn]

His Majesty King Walker of Apilonia
H.M.Y. Apilonia, Five Hundred Miles East of the Horn of Africa, International Waters
The Indian Ocean
Friday 2nd November 2012, 2300hrs Local Time (1200hrs Imperial Capital Time, 2000hrs Zulu Time)

Walker hated dealing with revolutionaries. Aside from the fact that they tended to be cavalier when it came to the way they fought a war they also tended to be incredibly idealistic when it came to their dreams for the future and rarely saw sense. He understood why they might want to reunite with the South Island, after all Walker could understand that particular urge, as many of the expansions of the Empire had been intended to reunite former Imperial Citizens, but the fact remained that he had never done so when the population was opposed to it. And ultimately the South Island Congress had voted with a sizable majority to accept the motion of Imperial Protectorate Status and that was the end of that as far as Walker was concerned, if the South Islanders didn’t want to be part of a Unified New Zealand then he wasn’t about to allow anyone to . The Apilonian Empire has messed up with New Zealand hundreds of years ago and he wanted to at least make some amends for that.

Sitting alongside Jessica they jointly went over the message that the Foreign Secretary was intending to send back and approved the message before turning in for the night at long last, it was getting very late after all.

The Imperial Foreign Office
Official Diplomatic Communiqué

TO: Charlie Harrison, North Island Resistance
FROM: Foreign Office, Apilonian Empire

Sir,

The democratically-elected Congress of the South Island voted with a three-quarters majority to accept Imperial Protectorate Status following the attack by forces from the North Island. The fact remains that with the exceptions of a few governments over the past years the North and South Islands have been at loggerheads for a long time, which you are no doubt aware, every time a unification effort occurs it fails utterly. As the elected officials have shown the majority of South Islanders simply do not want to unify with the North, especially given the recent attack which our own intelligence indicates shattered any support that may have existed, and any attempt by you to do so by force will result in both continued resistance from the South and given its current status would result in a full defence by the Apilonian Empire. A referendum directly to the people of the South Island will occur in due course, as is required by Imperial Law, to ascertain whether the South Island wants to keep devolved sovereignty as a protectorate or become a fully-fledged territory of the Empire, of course with the opportunity to go it alone.

The Apilonian Empire has a great deal of experience with New Zealand politics and history, it was after all an Imperial Colony several centuries ago before we granted it independence, and since that time the entire island chain has been in turmoil. With respect you are looking at this from the viewpoint of a revolutionary government with big dreams, I urge you not to allow this to cloak your view of the reality of the situation.

Once the situation in New Zealand has stabalised there will be time for more discussions regarding trade opportunities and the like.

Yours Sincerely
Rebecca O’Brien, Countess Thurston and His Majesty’s Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs

[The Free Monarchy of Daragal]

Prime Minister Charlie Harrison
Prime Minister's Office, The Beehive, Parliament Buildings
Wellington, North Island of New Zealand
Friday 3rd November, 0800hrs Local Time

Charlie looked at the recent communication from the Apilonians in disappointment. He could of course understand their reasoning, however he could not get past the knowledge that they were also biased towards accepting the South Island as a protectorate. He sighed and let it go. The North Island had already made movements towards Papua New Guinea, offering various discontented territories the chance to separate and join with them. It was almost assured that New Ireland would, and West and East New Britain's were both following in it's path. If the South Island did not wish to reunite with them just yet, then that was their choice, and he would respect it.

He looked out the window of his office at the bustling Wellington Harbour, and reminded himself that this was what he was protecting, a free New Zealand, and no imperialists would get in the way of that. Two destroyers were docked on the harbour, taking shore leave before they were sent out again to patrol North Island waters. The rest of the harbour was full of freighters and ferries, all ready to get to work.

He was woken from his reverie by Daniel, who bustled in holding an iPad. He set the iPad down on Charlie's desk, and then walked over to a couch by the window.
"The latest reports on the situation in Papua New Guinea. The chiefs of most of the tribes there are taking a vote on whether to do so, and from our guys in Kavieng, it looks good."
He took a breath, then continued.
"West New Britain is sending out summons to the tribal chiefs now, and their parliamentary representatives have already demonstrated their support. East New Britain is coming along, and our diplomats say they're almost ready to vote."
Charlie smiled at this news, as it meant that his ideal of a united Pacific was all the closer. Daniel coughed and continued.
"Also, well, I'm worried about the Layartebians. We've dealt with the Apilonians, and once we've demonstrated we're a stable government they'll be on our side, but Layarteb is well-known to want territory down here. I suggest we send them a message, and try get them to support us as well."
Charlie nodded, and Daniel left the room.

Daniel strode into his neighbouring office, and sat down, ready to type out the message to Layarteb.

---

Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Official Diplomatic Communication

TO: Foreign Ministry, Empire of Layarteb
FROM: Foreign Ministry, New Zealand
ENCRYPTION: Diplomatic

Greetings,

As we have recently thrown off the shackles of our previous dictatorship, and have fully emerged into the international community, we now wish to greet the nations who we find ourselves located near to. As you seek to make Stewart Island one of your numerous protectorates, and as you are one of the world's great powers, we believe it would be in our best interests for us to make contact with you. We simply wish to apply for an embassy in your capital, and to inquire into the possibility of trade negotiations. We believe that these actions would be in both our interests, and hope you agree.

Yours,
Daniel Williams
Foreign Minister of New Zealand

[Layarteb]

OOC: November 3, 08:00 in New Zealand corresponds to November 2, 14:00 in layarteb City [18 hours behind]. Wonderful Converter Tool. My reply would arrive at 11:00, November 3 in New Zealand.

November 2, 2012 - 14:40 hrs [UTC-5]
Governors Island, Layarteb City
Fortress of Comhghall
(40° 41' 26.5842" N, 74° 0' 59.2518" W)

The Emperor held the communique from Foreign Minister Daniel Williams with a strong degree of contempt, not so much for him but for the implications of this communique. The Minister of Foreign Affairs had only just departed for New Zealand a few hours earlier and he hadn't even made it to Hawaii yet, as far as the Emperor could surmise. He was waiting now for the Minister of Intelligence to call him back and though he felt like pacing his office, instead he remained seated, more for the sake of his guest, the Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs, a man who had a significant role due to the way the Empire handed new contacts. First visits were always made in the respective country by the Minister of Foreign Affairs. For that reason and because the Empire was a very "social" nation, so to speak, the Deputy Minister had a lot of experience at the helm.

"Sir," the intercom buzzed. It was Judy Mitchell, the Emperor's seductive receptionist and he glanced over at the clock, it was a little before 15:00.

"Yes Judy?"

"I have the Minister of Intelligence sir, returning your phone call."

"Put him through, thank you." The intercom switched off and the phone buzzed. Since his doors were shut, the Emperor put the call on speaker so that he and the Deputy Minister could hear the conversation.

"Sir, I apologize, I was in a meeting."

"That is fine Minister, I am here with the Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs. Have you been handed the communique from New Zealand's North Island yet?"

"I have not sir, I am on the move now, I apologize, could you please give me the summary."

"Certainly Minister, here is the most troubling statement, 'As you seek to make Stewart Island one of your numerous protectorates.' Do you understand?"

"Sir! This is troublesome."

"To say the least Minister, who leaked? I want to know and I want to know yesterday, not tomorrow, yesterday. The Minister of Foreign Affairs hasn't even landed yet and somehow these people know that we're on the way there. This trip wasn't supposed to be public."

"I assure you sir," the Deputy Minister said, "that no one in the Foreign Ministry save for a very small group of people know the business of the Minister. Sir they have all been vetted many times."

"Did someone leave a piece of paper on their desk? Who saw? Who knows."

"Sir, we'll launch an immediate investigation on our end," the Minister of Intelligence said, knowing that the leak had to have come from New Zealand's end or rather, he hoped it did. The Deputy Minister agreed, saying that they would as well.

"If this gets out to anyone we're in trouble. It will blow the entire process we have set up for Stewart Island. The Minister of Defense assures me that the navy is on the way but they're days away. If someone beats us to it, we could be in for a world of trouble and I'd like to avoid a shooting war for Stewart Island. It doesn't serve us any good."

"Sir, if I may suggest, could the leak have been from there end?"

"Minister, find out… If it is on their end, I want to know as well. Pull everything you can pull, the Northerners are a problematic bunch. They haven't been able to figure out what they want since the Kreynorians were there centuries ago. The Hi No Motons weren't an issue then but they sure as anything are now. The last thing we need is for them to get wind that we're moving on their southern flank. Fiji was a problem when they took it over, shortsightedness on our part but we're rectifying that situation."

"Yes sir." The two men responded, having their orders.

"Now, for the business of a response, Deputy Minister, they know that we're coming to Stewart Island. They even know why but they don't have any proof as to the why. At least if they do it is something denial or else head's are going to roll. Let's give them what they already know, categorically deny the rest, and give our usual response."

"Yes sir, I will have a response on your desk before 16:00."

"Thank you, now unless there is something else, I have a further meeting to attend. None? Okay gentlemen, I want to know who leaked and I want to know yesterday."

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ | ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

OFFICIAL DIPLOMATIC COMMUNIQUE

P 3071700R
FM [Empire of Layarteb, Ministry of Foreign Affairs]
TO [Foreign Minister Daniel Williams, New Zealand]
INFO [DMFA]

SECURE LAYARTEB CITY 2012307136

TAGS: [FR]
SUBJECT: [Communiqué of November 2]

---

The Empire is pleased that you have reached out to us heralding the end of military rule over the North Island of New Zealand. We see this as good and welcomed news and it is our hope that your rule can be peaceful, free from corruption and controversy, and prosperous. The Republic of Tavok, which existed before this previous coup was a growing friend of the Empire and our trade deals with them were beneficial not only to both of our nations but the South Pacific region as a whole.

However, your statement that we are interested in making Stewart Island a protectorate of the Empire is false. While the Minister of Foreign Affairs is presently on his way to visit the island, this trip has been on the books for several months. It will affirm a specific clause of our trade agreement with the Republic of Tavok, the details of which will be made public after the Minister's visit is concluded. Our interests in Stewart Island mirror our interests in New Zealand as a whole and that is our desire for a peaceful and prosperous nation with which to trade and develop a lasting, diplomatic courtship.

Your request for an embassy exchange will be approved contingent upon a meeting that we wish to set up between yourself and the Minister of Foreign Affairs, which will take place at the conclusion of his trip to Stewart Island. If this is acceptable, please pass on the necessary details on when this meeting will be most convenient over the next two weeks.


Minister of Foreign Affairs

---

MESSAGE STOP

[The Free Monarchy of Daragal]

Prime Minister Charlie Harrison
Prime Minister's Office, The Beehive, Parliament Buildings
Wellington, North Island of New Zealand
November 3rd, 1100hrs Local Time.

Charlie was happy, in fact to say he was happy would be an understatement. His recent read through of the Layartebian communication had given him just what he needed. Not only was their firs embassy application approved, to a large power no less, but the Layartebians had categorically denied Daniel's suspicions of their plans for Stewart Islands. He walked over to his desk and pressed the intercom button.
"Daniel, come through here a moment?"
He sat at his desk and waited as he heard the door open and close, and Daniel walk in.

Daniel sat on the couch where he always did, and looked over at Charlie.
"Yeah Charlie?"
"Well, I assume you've read the Layartebian communication?"
"Yes. They denied intentions to do anything to Stewart Island, but I still think they plan to."
"I do to, but I want to do something first. Who is our best diplomat right now?"
"Oh, there are a few guys I could think of, why?"
"Choose one and get them on the next flight to Stewart Island. I want them to see if they can convince the Stewart Islanders to join us."
Daniel nodded and grinned. As he left the door, he looked back at Charlie.
"Oh, and by the way, we've got a result from the first few rounds of debate in New Ireland. Looks like the majority will be on our side."
Chuckling, he left the room.

Hon. Gareth Mackenzie
A small jet flying over the Foveaux Strait
November 3rd, 1900hrs Local Time

Gareth looked out the window of the jet at the darkening sky, watching as the sun dipped behind the hills and rain clouds gathered in the air. He felt honored to be given the role of trying to get Stewart Island to join with them, however he did wish he had been sent on a day with better weather. He sighed, and stood up out of his seat, moving over to the snack bar to get something to eat. He jet was a remnant of the dictator, a small private jet he had used for travel. Now it was for diplomacy, a fitting irony as Gareth saw it. As thunder echoed, he desperately hoped that Minister Williams message had been recieved, and that somebody would be waiting st the airport to pick him up.

[Terra Reborn]

The Right Honourable Rebecca O’Brien, Countess of Thurston, His Majesty’s Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs
The Imperial Parliament, Karin City, Alaska
Northern Territories of the Apilonian Empire
Monday 5th November 2012, 0900hrs Local Times (0900hrs Imperial Capital Time, 1800hrsrs Zulu Time, 0700hrs (6th Nov) New Zealand)

Although a Peer of the Realm and thus not a Member of Parliament the fact that she was the Foregin Secretary meant that Rebecca O’Brien, Countess of Thurston, found herself attending both meetings of the House of Lords and the House of Commons, indeed given that the Prime Minister was an MP and she was a member of the cabinet she found herself inhabiting the front bench of the government side of the House of Commons far more frequently than she was able to attend the House of Lords. It was the ironic way the Imperial Legislative was run but it had worked for a long time and there was no real reason why it would stop working unless someone physically tried to stop it working for whatever reason they might have of their own volition. In either case alongside the three other Peers who held the Great Offices of State she was afforded a certain dignity from even the Opposition and unlike government ministers who were MPs she was rarely heckled from the far side, as a Peer she was far less political.

In this case she was to read a statement to the House, and by extension the rest of the world, regarding the situation in New Zealand that had occurred over the weekend, and indeed by New Zealand time it was already Tuesday morning, such was the time difference. In either case following discussions with the King, who would be arriving in India within the next few hours, the Prime Minister and various other personages they had been able to put together the firm position of the Imperial Government in regards to the situation in the South Pacific, given all the events that had taken place. If truth be told the Empire was somewhat concerned regarding the rapid expansion attempts being made by the North Island, especially into a number of island chains in the Pacific area. Given the ever looming threat of Hi No Moto the last thing anyone wanted was for a nascent nation to try and through its non-existent weight around by attempting to seize islands, that would only serve to provoke the Hi No Motons into doing something stupid. At least that was the prevailing view at the Foreign Office

O’Brien glanced up as the Speaker of the House of Commons stood and called out.

“A Statement from the Foreign Secretary regarding the New Zealand situation!”

O’Brien nodded in thanks to the speaker and made her way to the dispatch box.

“Thank You, Mister Speaker. I am sure the whole house is aware of the situation that had developed over the past few days in New Zealand, most notably the engagements of HMS Vindicator following the attack on Christchurch. Following consulting with His Majesty the King, the Prime Minister and other senior government officials I can now announce the official position of His Majesty’s Government in relation to the resistance movement that has seized power in the North Island,” O’Brien said formally. “It is the view of His Majesty’s Government that the resistance organisation is the sole legitimate voice of the North Islanders and as such the Apilonian Empire will do whatever is in its power, and whatever is requested to aid the resistance movement in transforming from idealistic revolutionary movement to practical government. The Empire has always had an interest in stability in New Zealand from our own history on the islands, and as such we greet this development with pleasure and hope that is shall be more successful than previous attempts.”

O’Brien paused.

“The South Island, having formally requested and received Imperial Protectorate Status following a three-quarters majority vote by the South Island Congress, will remain an Imperial Protectorate for the immediate future until a confirmation referendum can be held to confirm the mandate under which the SIC operates in this manner,” O’Brien continued. “In the meantime the Empire shall continue to watch carefully the actions of the North Island to ensure that this particular nascent nation does not go the way of so many others, and will do everything in our power to ensure that does not occur.”

O’Brien turned back to the Speaker.

“I’ll accept questions at this time, Mister Speaker.”

A number of MPs raised their hands to ask questions, leaving the Speaker to decide who would get to ask the questions, obviously the longer serving and more senior MPs would be more likely to get to ask, as would those who were known for their experiane in the matter or the area.

“Mister John Howard,” The Speaker announced, an Australian MP he was well versed in the New Zealand situation.

“Thank You, Mister Speaker,” Howard said with a grateful nod. “As the Right Honourable Lady is aware, a few weeks ago I raised the very matter of New Zealand during Prime Ministers question time, and I have to ask the question, do we really think that this is going to work, and if it doesn’t is the Empire willing to consider other measures by which to ensure stability in New Zealand in the long term.”

“Foreign Secretary…”

“At this point we don’t want to get ahead of ourselves, up until such time as this resistance government shows that it is incapable of leading the Empire will provide whatever assistance we can to our neighbours in the South Pacific,” O’Brien replied. “This is not the time to get into a hypothetical discussion regarding potential failures before they occur, if they ever happen, and it is certainly not the place to have said conversation, should the Honourable Gentleman which to have such a hypothetical conversation I would suggest he restrain it to the opulent surroundings of the Parliamentary Club over a whisky.”

[Layarteb]

November 7, 2012 - 05:05 hrs [UTC+12:45]
Chatham Islands, New Zealand
60nm east of Chatham
(43° 48' 57.16" S, 176° 28' 26.83 W)

An ugly, pre-dawn mist clung to the air around the Chatham Islands serving no purpose other than to be obnoxious. The weather forecast put a 100% chance of light rain throughout the morning with it growing heavy around noon to 15:00, lightening for the rest of the evening. Partly cloudy conditions would persist until Saturday, November 10 with intermittent rain showers and a lot of mist. The inclement weather might have been ideal conditions for the warships of the 13th ARG sitting over the horizon from Chatham Island but for the Marines who would be landing and for the helicopter pilots who would be bringing them, the conditions were met with distaste.

The small island group, consisting of ten islands only had seven initial targets and six of those were on Chatham Island itself. The population was barely seven hundred and the only resistance that the Marines would face, other than civilians, was a tiny defense force that doubled as the island groups' police force. They had some automatic weapons but not enough for every man. Their biggest presence, even then, was only at one of the seven targets. Since the entirety of the 13th ARG being deployed to the New Zealand targets numbered fifty-six hundred or one brigade, it was logical to see that even a small portion of that group could easily overwhelm the Chatham Islands. A full battalion or six hundred men would be that "small" portion and they were going to deploy almost all at once.

Within that battalion were three companies of men and they would easily split themselves up between the various targets since they further were divided into twelve total platoons. Two platoons would deploy to Pitt Island, where they would secure Hakepa, the small island's highest point. Intel reported the presence of a possible lookout station on the 231-meter peak. On Chatham Island, one platoon would go to Maungatere Hill, a 294-meter peak, the highest point on the southern end of the island. One platoon would go to Mt Curdleigh, a 188-meter peak on the northern portion of the island. Three platoons would go to Waitangi and another three would go to Owenga, both of which were sizeable settlements. The last two platoons would go to Port Hutt and the island's small airfield on the banks of the Te Whanga Lagoon. Smaller, outlying islands would be untouched in the initial assaults. Once the islands were considered secure, platoons would detach and investigate those islands, to determine what, if anything, those islands held.

Because of the lack of fighters, the element hitting the Chatham Islands wouldn't have very much in the way of air support. For that reason, the four UH-1Y Super Hueys onboard the County class helicopter cruiser would act in that role. Instead of carrying troops, the four of them would be fitted with two 19-round rocket pods and 7.62-millimeter Miniguns capable of firing nearly 6,000 rounds per minute from unitary 8,000-round magazines stored inside of the cabin. In this capacity, the Super Hueys could lay down a significant amount of air support unless the "enemy" on the Chatham Islands had a cache of highly advanced weaponry that Intel didn't know about. That was highly unlikely.

For actual equipment, the defense forces on the Chatham Islands, which barely numbered fifty in total, had nothing more than a handful of armored cars and two helicopters, both of which were based on the archipelago's only airport, a glorified piece of pavement. For all intents and purposes, this was the only major target out of the seven and the platoon assigned to go after it was going to fly there in a pair of MV-22C Ospreys with twenty-five men per Osprey. Under the command of First Lieutenant Mark Palm, the platoon formed up on the deck of the County while their "chariots," ran up their engines to idle on the ship's fantail. Because of the profound lack of major defenses, the island group didn't even have fixed surface-to-air defenses; there wouldn't be any missile or artillery strikes beforehand. Landings would be done via helicopter or LCAC only and only from over-the-horizon. The poor weather reduced visibility and that allowed them to get closer to the horizon but they were still invisible, visually, even from the highest peak, Maungatere Hill, where the distance-to-the-horizon was thirty-eight miles.

Once the Osprey's were at idle and ready for takeoff, 1LT Palm gave the signal and fifty fully loaded, combat-ready Marines walked up the two aircrafts' ramps and found their seats alongside the aircraft's hull and center floor. It was tight and far from roomy but it was only going to be a short ride. The crew chief, feeling the chill on the flight deck, raised the ramp after the last Marine was onboard and less than thirty seconds later; the first aircraft rotated off of the deck and slowly entered forward flight. The pilots would accelerate their aircraft up to two hundred and fifty miles per hour, crossing the measly sixty-mile distance to the airfield in just fifteen minutes. That was barely enough time to have a cup of coffee. Behind them, the rest of the Osprey's, ten more, would transport five more platoons to the three high points and to Port Hutt. Super Hueys would be in the air around the same time, heading to an orbit point five miles from the islands' eastern coast, just in case they were needed for support.

After dropping off their six platoons, those twelve Ospreys would race back to the County and the Gotham, load up on the remaining six platoons, and race to the last two targets, Owenga and Waitangi. LCACs would bring vehicular support after the initial beachheads were secure. This wasn't a large operation, considering the scope that the Marines normally initiated but it wasn't without complexities. The first platoon on the ground would have only the second platoon at Port Hutt for support, if they needed it. The next round of support wouldn't be there for another thirty-five minutes when the six platoons hit Waitangi and Owenga. Even then, the most amount of support that the airfield's platoon could receive was just one more platoon, which would be detached from one of the two cities.

That fact had made 1LT Palm nervous when he first heard it but he felt more at ease after he read the Intel report on the airfield. His men were hard chargers, they were Marines, and they had the element of surprise on their side. The airport was tiny and they would put down right in the middle of the tarmac where there was only one hangar for maintenance, a small terminal no bigger than what you would find at a train station, and a couple of support buildings.

[Terra Reborn]

His Majesty Walker I, King of Apilonia
Port of Bangalore, Bangalore, Republic of South India
Indian Subcontinent
Thursday 6th November 2012, 0830hrs Local Time (1900hrs Imperial Capital Time (5/9/12), 0300hrs Zulu Time)

Walker looked out from behind the tinted glass of the bridge of the Imperial Yacht down at the dockside, specifically at the welcome that was waiting for him. The Republican Government had been busy getting about the job of encouraging people to favour the idea of becoming a territory of the Apilonian Empire and so far they seemed to be doing an excellent job, judging by the large crowds that were waiting for him down on the dockside. This was no doubt because of what the Empire had shown in previous expansions; the people clearly valued their own cultural identity as Indians and it was perhaps because the Apilonian Empire had no intention of attempting to change or squash that at the fundamental level. Sure there would be a few things added, such as the idea of heredity nobles and other Imperial Values, such as Tea, but as with any other territory of the Empire the Indian Territory of the Apilonian Empire would maintain a degree of autonomy of its own affairs that would surprise many given that it was part of an Empire, and given that they would have a substantial say in Parliament they would be deeply involved in the overall running of the Empire.

Unlike the last time the Empire had spread far and wide all of its territories had a say in the central running, made possible by relatively quick global travel as well as the current system in use by Parliament.

Walker nodded to the skipper of the Imperial Yacht Apilonia and began making his way through the ship until he stepped out onto the deck to a cheer from the dockside as he waved to them, his recently crowned Queen coming to stand alongside him to wave with him. As they began to walk down the gangway the band on the dockside began a rendition of God Save the King although Walker noted with a slight smile that it was actually in Hindi which alongside English was one of the official languages of the RSI, it warmed his heart slightly as he heard the locals joining in, although he noted the message that was being sent as well which pretty much confirmed his thoughts on keeping culture; they could easily have sung in English but were making a point. And it was a point well made so he would take it on board as a positive sign in any case. As he stepped down onto the dockside the two Imperial Navy ratings in their best uniforms saluted sharply as he strode forwards past a likewise saluting honour guard of Indian troops.

President Jania Singh, with Ambassador Allen standing a short distance away, curtsied in greeting as he approached before shaking the hand that Walker immediately offered for her to shake with a warm smile.

“Your Majesty,” She said as warmly as her smile. “Welcome to India.”

“Thank You, Madam President,” Walker smiled in return. “It is an absolute pleasure to be here.”

“As you can see we’ve got a good turn out here, I reckon we’ve got a very good chance at getting a strong, positive response at the Plebstice,” Singh commented. “I certainly hope so.”

“As do I,” Walker said gesturing to the motorcade that was escorted by a combined Karin Guard and RSI Presidential Security Division detail and would take them to the Presidential Residence where the King and Queen would be staying primarily during their time in India. “And given the latest polls I think it is fair to say that we can start making plans on the assumption that all shall be well.”

“I agree, we’ve got a lot of things to talk about,” Singh agreed as Walker stepped back to allow the two women into the back of the Limosine first then after a last wave to the crowds he ducked his head inside and sat down as well. “The first of which is what the governmental structure will look like after this is all said and done, I assume we’ll need to set up elections as quickly as possible to get our members of Parliament elected?”

“Correct and I’ll also need to appoint the statute-required governors, obviously you will become Archduchess… unless you have any objections?” Walker glanced over at Singh who shook her head. “Then there are the regional Dukes, anything below the state level is handled by elected councils until such time as someone is created a Peer for their areas and the elected councils become advisory bodies to the Marquesses, Earls or Viscounts, all of which are initially awarded for various services to the Empire, and can either take a direct interest in their ‘lands’ or be more of a figurehead depending on their preference. Do you see any problems with that?”

“None at all, indeed it seems to be the best possible compromise between the stability provided by an Monarchy and the personal say of the people, even if you do have the final say,” Singh commented with a slight smile. “And I suppose, soon enough, me, at least in this part of the world anyway.”

“Well that’s easily done, both in terms of the appointments and the elections, I’ll have a list of my recommendations for Dukes as soon as I get my own office again, and yes I know that they are Hereditary unless they fall out of favour so I’ll ensure that I’m not selecting people who are going to have offspring who embarrass the Empire in the long run,” Singh replied. “My next concern is military and national defence. Now we’ve got a shitload, if you’ll pardon my language, of naval assets both here in Bangalore and at our major naval base on the east coast, that includes seven Viraat-Class supercarriers. However in terms of land and air forces we are spread dangerously thing, the majority of the old ROI military short of the Navy was up on the Northern Borders dealing with the... what’s that charming military phrase? Ah, yes, the Clusterfuck in China, so we’ve not got a great deal of equipment.”

“Well under the circumstances I think that it is best to take the option of raising new units here in India as soon as possible, with Imperial provided equipment which we can ship in easily, I want to avoid my first act as your King to be deploying thousands of Imperial Soldiers to aid in a defence that might not be required, it wouldn’t exactly look good,” Walker commented wryly. “In addition to that we can also start building the espirt de corps of your own Regiments and the like, so we’ll name them in a similar fashion to the rest of the empire, none of the passionless 1st Infantry Regiment bollocks that the rest of the world seems to enjoy so much.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Your Majesty,” Singh smiled and turned to the queen. “How does a Queen Jessica’s Regiment sound?”

“Incredibly embarrassing, but honoured none the less,” Jessica replied, rolling he eyes. “I must ask one thing, Madam President, will you be taking the traditional Von that we got from our German immigrants hundreds of years ago and used it as something of a mark of internationalism, the other Archudkes have.”

“I don’t see why not, although what would it be? Von Singh or Von Bangalore?” Singh frowned. “Personally I think the latter sounds mildly suggestive.”

Jessica laughed.

“As far as I know its personal choice,” Jessica replied glancing over at her husband who nodded. “Technically in German Von means of, so Of Bangalore would work, but then the likes of House Von Grippen chose to add the Von to their family name, so it is entirely your choice.”

“Government Stability and Defence as my main priorities, my goodness you can tell I’ve been in the military,” Singh laughed. “So I had best move onto the other traditional topic, foreign relations. I know the Empire’s stance on the Hi No Motons, but I was wondering about a few others, most notably northern india and China.”

“Unless the North gives an indicator one way or the other we are intending to take a live-and-let-live policy, if they want to join with us that’s fine, if they want to fight us, then we’ll take whatever measures are required,” Walker replied. “As for China, well as you so eloquently put earler, it’s a total cluster fuck up there, I want to keep the Empire out of that if at all possible.”

“Fair enough,” Singh nodded. “Now we’ll let you get settled in then we’ve got a tour set up for you as well as a few photo-ops and addresses, we need to put forward the idea of the Empire as well as possible, and I have no doubts that you’ll help tremendously in that area.”

[Layarteb]

November 7, 2012 - 05:25 hrs [UTC+12:45]
Chatham Islands, New Zealand
Chatham Islands-Tuuta Airport
(43° 48' 57" S, 176° 28' 27" W)

Weather conditions didn't help the Ospreys. Facing an irritating crosswind, the pilots were forced to slow down their aircraft slightly, meaning that they would arrive five minutes later than intended, not a reason for panic but certainly a reason for frustration. The prolonged flight would make the Marines a little uneasy. Though accustomed to battle plans going wrong and unforeseen circumstances causing every manner of problem, the Marines were able to adapt but they were always put off the most when they had issues on the way to their insertion. Once on the ground they had little time to think, it was, all reaction based because they were in combat. Delays on the way had the stigma of bouncing around in their heads like a pinball, hitting every possible bumper and sidewall in the process.

The airport was barely visible when the pilots called out "Feet Dry," indicating that they had crossed the coast. They were zooming ahead but they were still fighting the crosswind as the crew chiefs looked to the south to find the road that ran to the airport. In the gray, shitty weather, it was nearly invisible but, upon seeing it, they made their calls. The Marines, their hearts racing, jumped to their feet, preparing to go into battle or whatever it was that Chatham Island would throw at them. The rear ramps were lowered and the Osprey swung around as it crossed the perimeter of the airfield. Rapidly decelerating, the pilots put the bird into a hover and descended right onto the tarmac, just slightly off of their intended insertion point. They found that the new point, though only ten meters away, provided the Marines with better protection.

All around the airport's taxiway and tarmac was a drainage ditch for rainwater runoff. Satellite photos had done a poor job identifying it but the pilots saw it immediately and, trained to find such occurrences, dropped their aircraft right near them. When the Marines piled out in brave fashion, they immediately hit the ground and found the cover pleasurable. Fifty Marines were now in highly defensive positions all around the airport's tarmac and in the first few seconds of his being on the ground, 1LT Palm took in everything that he saw.

Situated on the tarmac was a single, twin-engine, gray Cessna 208 Caravan, a short-range transporter with good performance on small airfields, as the Chatham Islands-Tuuta Airport was. There was no one outside on the tarmac. The hangar doors were closed and the maintenance shed was dark. The small, train-station like terminal was brightly lit and he could see passengers and civilians packed at the windows trying to see through the rainwater at what had happened. The noise of the Ospreys was unlike anything that they had heard before and the idea of such military aircraft here was something very unusual. Because of the conditions, very few of them saw the Layartebian markings on the haze gray aircraft nor could they identify the patches that the Marines wore, which would signify them as Layartebian.

"Well isn't this something out of the Twilight Zone," 1LT Palm commented to himself as rainwater soaked through his BDUs. "Gunny," he yelled out to his platoon XO. "Distribute your men around the field, I'm taking one squad into the terminal. Check the outlying buildings and that plane."

"Yes sir." He yelled in stereotypical Marine fashion. "1st Squad, on me! 2nd Squad, hangar! 3rd Squad, maintenance buildings. 4th Squad, auxiliary buildings. On three… Go… Go… Go…!" He yelled and the forty Marines jumped up and went about their tasks, finally happy to be out of the muddy drainage ditch. 1LT Palm and his radioman, along with the rest of 5th Squad, popped up and made their way, almost too casually, towards the terminal.

As they got closer, their weapons became visible to those inside and the commotion soon became audible as their Layartebian markings became visible next. They stacked up against the door but it didn't matter, they weren't facing much in the way of resistance. The security personnel in the terminal were more confused than they were threatened and though they tried their best to maintain order inside of the terminal, the Marines approached too quickly. When 1LT Palm entered the front door, he did so to a cacophony of screams. His smile was hiding his terror. "Quiet down! Quiet down!" He yelled. Armed officers stood around, their hands on their guns. This was a new and unique situation for them.

"Drop your weapon!" One of them yelled and 1LT Palm held up his hand. Marines were holding the door and they had their weapons at the ready. "Drop your weapon now!"

"Officer, officer, where is the commanding officer?" 1LT Palm said, his hands clearly not threatening. He would reach for his sidearm if necessary but his rifle as hanging in the way. Everything about this scene was wrong, contrary to how things go. Nobody answered, "There are one hundred Marines of the Imperial Layartebian Military outside that door! Officers, do not draw your weapons or they will open fire. Now who is the commanding officer?" 1LT Palm asked again. Cowering to themselves, the civilians in the terminal were terrified beyond any manner that any of them had ever experience before.

The security officers, tense and confused, looked at one another in disbelief. The look on everyone's face was common, "Is this really happening?" Finally, from the front, a graying man of impressive stature and dark complexion spoke up, "I am Sergeant Deerness. You gentlemen are very lost."

"Sergeant, First Lieutenant Palm, Imperial Layartebian Marine Corps. We are not lost, we are exactly where we want to be. Sergeant I implore you right now to order all of your men here and on this airfield to surrender themselves immediately. My men are going building-to-building conducting a search right now."

"Marine, you have no authority here."

"Sergeant, to the contrary. One hundred Marines say I do. I would prefer that we go home with the precise number of bullets we came here with, we're not here to round anyone up for execution. But we are taking over this airfield."

"Over my dead body you are," Sergeant Deerness moved his hand to his pistol and in a flash, was faced with the sound of Marines shuffling into the door.

"HOLD YOUR FIRE!" 1LT Palm ordered even quicker than the Marines could act and Sergeant Deerness could draw. The police officers drew their weapons next while the Marines stared at them, their hearts racing. "IF ANYONE SHOOTS FIRST I WILL SEE TO IT THAT YOU ARE COURT MARTIALLED AND SENT TO PRISON!" 1LT Palm ordered, yelling over the commotion. "Sergeant, this is not the place for a Mexican standoff, there are too many civilians. Our rounds will endanger them and kill many of them. Sergeant, you must surrender for your men and for these people." On cue, as if it were a movie, the sound of a helicopter appeared in the distance, chopping through the open doors. "Those are attack helicopters Sergeant."

"Marine, you need to walk back out that door, get in those helicopters, and get off of this island. This is sovereign…"

"Sergeant, this isn't anymore. The North and South islands are at it again. The Empire is here to secure the Chatham Islands. We will do that with or without your surrender here, now. Sergeant, rifles versus pistols. Body armor versus not. These are Marines Sergeant. They're trained to kill everything in their path." The radio cracked to life and 1LT Palm slowly reached to his microphone and keyed up the transmitter hanging on his left shoulder, "Gunny, situation at the terminal, hold fast…"

"Yes sir."

"What's it going to be Sergeant?"

"Lower your weapons…" Sergeant Deerness said with a sotto voice.

"You first," 1LT Palm responded. As Sergeant Deerness brought his down, so did his officers. "Marines, stand down, lower your weapons." Crisis was, for the time being, averted. "Sergeant, you will surrender your weapons now. You will not be restrained but you and I are going to have a private conversation."

"Yes sir," he answered with derision.

"Gunny, terminal secure, give me a SITREP?"

"Maintenance staff secure, grabbed two officers sleeping, they're secure." 1LT Palm laughed, "Sleeping Sergeant?"

"I'll deal with those two later."

"Gunny bring the sleeping officers here."

"Yes sir." The Marines fanned out and came in out of the rain, enjoying the dryness of the terminal.

"Marines, security, and try not to scare these people!" 1LT Palm ordered as he and Sergeant Deerness walked off to a side corner. Keeping their voices low, 1LT Palm gave him the situation, "Sergeant, the Empire is going to take over this island with as little bloodshed as possible. Cooperation will save lives. We're not here to hurt anyone unless they hurt us. You and your men will resume their functions when this is over but for now you must cooperate with us or we're going to treat you like prisoners of war. Is that clear?"

"This will not stand."

"With the amount of firepower we have off the coast, trust me Sergeant, it will. There is a very real threat to this island group and it isn't us. With the North and South island going at it yet again how long do you think before they bring the battle here? How long do you think before the Hi No Motons come here?" The very mention of the Hi No Motons and their infamous, though secretive Kempeitai, sent shudders down the backs of everyone in the Pacific not under their control. "Sergeant, this is the situation and this is what you have before you. You have no choice but to cooperate."

"My CO will…"

"I'm going to cut you off right there. Right now, there is no communication. When this is over, communication will resume. These people will be released in time and sent back to their homes. You and your men will assist. Is that clear?"

"What choice do I have…"

"None… None whatsoever."

[Layarteb]

November 7, 2012 - 06:00 hrs [UTC+12:45]
Chatham Islands, New Zealand
Waitangi
(43° 57' 18" S, 176° 33' 30" W)

News of the successful takeover of Chatham Islands-Tuuta Airport had been received well throughout the rest of the task force. The Marines expected there to be some, limited resistance made by the local defense forces but there having been none made them all easier about this operation. The main assault force had lifted off on schedule and they were now minutes away from calling "feet dry" over the radio. The Super Hueys assigned to close air support were still orbiting on station but would soon need to return to the fleet for refueling. A pair of UH-1Y Super Hueys from the Sanitarium class would replace them on station for the time being, just in case the Marines needed any support. In the event that more firepower was necessary, the Marines would have to hold on until the four Super Hueys from the County could get back to them after refueling.

With six MV-22C Ospreys heading to Waitangi and another six heading to Owenga, this representing the bulk of the invasion force. Knight Hawks were bringing another platoon directly to Port Hutt. That would take care of the population centers on the islands. The third trip would bring the rest of the Marines to secure the various peaks that had been earmarked for operations. Despite the success of the first stage, operational commanders, now knowing that the element of surprise had been lost, feared that the defense forces might try to take action. They were outnumbered and outgunned by the Marines but even if a foolish few of them stood ready to fight, they could kill a few Marines. Granted, a few Marines were nothing really, this was a military action after all, the operational commanders truly wanted a casualty-free operation here, as all operational commanders around the world always did.

The lead Osprey heading to Waitangi called out "feet dry" and turned to the southeast. They were coming in from the northwest, to avoid the weather, and they would put down at the police station in the town. That would put an entire platoon of Marines within meters of the defense force's barracks. The objective was to scare the living hell out of them, as the Marines at the airfield had done. If they were fortified though, the Marines would do whatever was necessary to neutralize the threat. The barracks that they were going to was a small, two-story structure located towards the southern edge of Waitangi. It was on a small street that was one-line wide in each direction and just to the southwest of it was a commercial warehouse for boat parts. Because of the hour of the morning, the Marines expected the commercial warehouse to be closed.

The lead Osprey ducked low over the settlement, flying at just sixty-five feet above ground level, higher than any structure and higher than the power lines. One of the platoon's was going to hit the only power station on the island. There were ten soldiers anticipated at the barracks and that was five-to-one odds in favor of the Marines. The platoon's CO considered this when he watched the rear ramp on the Osprey open. He held on tight as the aircraft banked and dropped into a hover before settling down in the street about one hundred meters north of the barracks. He briefly watched the second Osprey with the rest of his platoon put down in an open field about one hundred meters south of the barracks. That put the building on two fronts and that was never advisable to the defenders. For the Marines, this was preferable, they had the building in two fields of fire and they could pin the occupants down inside with little effort.

On the ground, the rain battered against the Marines' faces but they pressed on, advancing towards the barracks with their weapons shouldered, using a low wall for cover. South of the barracks, there wasn't much in the way of cover so the Marines hit the muddy ground and pointed their weapons forward. They formed up into position quickly, at which point the CO raised a bullhorn that had been hanging by his side to his mouth. "Attention, this is the Imperial Layartebian Marine Corps. You are surrounded by a platoon of men, which far outnumber you. We are heavily armed and we have air support on station.

"Please exit the structure without your weapons, your hands in the air, and surrender to avoid unnecessary casualties. The Chatham Islands are now under the administration of the Empire. We will give you thirty seconds." Thirty seconds wasn't enough time but the CO didn't want to give the occupants too much time to think about it. He wanted this situation resolved immediately, as the airport had been resolved. He didn't know about its brief standoff.

After thirty seconds, he checked his watch and shook his head. No one came out but he could see shadows. There were people inside and suddenly, as he raised the bullhorn back to his mouth, all of the lights inside went out, someone evidently having pulled the fuse. "This isn't smart guys." He answered back before he turned to a grenadier at his side. "Private, put a teargas round into there, you got it?"

"Yes sir." The grenadier raised the sight on his M320A1 Grenade Launcher, which hung underneath the barrel of his M81A1 Assault Rifle. He popped out the fragmentation grenade that was already preloaded and loaded in a teargas round. Sighting a window, he squeezed the trigger, and recoiled slightly from the thump of the 40-millimeter round exiting the barrel. The grenade round spiraled through the sky in a ballistic arc and broke through the window with a tin-like crash. Once inside, the grenade popped and instantly began to fill the room with CS gas. It would operate for about twenty to thirty seconds, enough to fill the entire first floor with the caustic irritant. Without a doubt, the police would have gas masks but not wearing them.

The soldiers inside of the barracks weren't so easily dissuaded though. The CS gas began to pour out of the hole created by the grenade and the soldiers, without exposing themselves, quickly opened various windows, allowing them to vent the gas. Inside, they used rags and their shirts to protect their eyes and their mouths as best as they could. They had all been exposed to CS gas during training so they weren't necessarily as incapacitated as the Marines would have liked them to be. Further use of the gas, it was obvious, would do little to drive the occupants out of the building but that didn't stop them. The CO ordered two more to be fired into the barracks and while the gas filled the room, he ordered his Marines to advance. A squad would butt up against the exterior wall of the barracks near the door and prepare themselves to breach, if the order was given. However, midway through the maneuver, the CO thought of a new tactic and a new idea. He called upon his radioman to bring the Hueys close in, hoping their noise would scare the occupants of the barracks to surrender quickly and peacefully.

It took approximately five minutes but the Super Hueys came as requested. Ordered to circle just one hundred feet above ground, the two, armed helicopters focused virtually their entire downdraft on the barracks, no doubt shaking the walls a little bit. The noise made any possible conversation or use of the bullhorn worthless. For now, the occupants of the barracks would simply have to contend with the notion that the Marines were not playing around. About five minutes of circling and the Hueys returned to their station, at which time, the Marine CO got back on his bullhorn, and once again addressed the occupants of the barracks, "This is your final warning. You have thirty seconds to surrender or else we will breach and use deadly force." All was quiet and motionless for about fifteen seconds, at which point, the door opened, and out stepped nine police soldiers, their hands in the air, and their weapons still inside, angry and befuddled looks on their faces.

[Terra Reborn]

ACT II

At the going down of the Sun...

They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.
-Ode of Remembrance