Uncivil War (Closed, Regional RP)

[Hittanryan]

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To: Vice-Admiral Prince Elijah Shalmaneser, Battle Leader Varus Tillten
From: Brigadier General Natasha Welch
Subject: RE: URGENT: Request Status Update
Encryption: CPO Communication Line

Received instructions from our government to hold position at our current LZ. Due to naval threat to the south, remaining embarked ground forces will continue their landings at Beta Beach. UCAV elements will provide aerial surveillance of CPO landing zones, destroyer squadron is standing by to receive fire support directed by observers.

Plans are currently being drafted in New Laconia for emergency withdrawal or rapid resupply.

Brig. Gen. Welch

Beta Beach

The Adiran peacekeeping force was not supposed to be a concentrated garrison. It was supposed to be spread out across Azurlavai protecting aid corridors and refugees. If the situation called for it, they would eliminate established threats. If you believed the brass, this wasn't a war.

C platoon didn't believe the brass. They believed in Murphy's Law.

The chance had remained from the start that the Revenant would unleash some master doomsday plot if it looked like they were about to lose. After all, they weren't just some warlords. They were the former national government; though they'd been driven from the capital and their resources had been ground down by attrition, some semblance of sophisticated organization remained. To use Cetan analogies, this wasn't Badlands Security they might end up fighting: it was Urdnotia.

Before arriving in Belisaria, C platoon made up their mind: since the worst-case scenario meant the Revs would attack the CPO, that's what was going to happen. Lo and behold, the Edomites were ambushed at their LZ. By now even they had heard that the Imperial fuckers they had spent the last war shooting at had just committed yet another crime against humanity. That was bound to piss the Revs off. Pissed-off Revs plus a loss of all contact with the Commonwealth capital equals trouble.

All of this meant they'd be ready for a fight. When the engineers came ashore, they were given orders to instead use their available materials and equipment to construct camouflaged fighting positions. Observation posts were established several kilometers away. Welch's temporary HQ was constructed with such haste they didn't clear the brush from most of the tents. She needed a command center, one with reliable communications, and she couldn't afford a single minute's delay. They were now completely unsupported.

However, despite their desperation, Salinas and the others took heart. Not because things improved in any way, really, but because they were reunited. From the beaches they first heard the steady rumble of the engines. Next they heard more metallic noises, transmissions shifting and the like. Finally, just before they came into sight, they heard the grinding of the ground beneath treads. Then the band was all back together.

As they approached the IFV, Salinas gave a few affectionate raps on the hull. No more foot-slogging. If a fight came, they were going into it properly.

[Shalum]

Operation Open Season: Day-1
Shalumite-Thracian Border

It would take another three days for the rest of the units participating in 'Open Season' to arrive, as the units gathered at their predesignated points along the border with Thracia. There were easily two divisions worth of men and machine who would be participating in the actual combat, not to mention the air wings and logistical units that would be supporting them. It was going to be a multi-pronged assault, mechanized infantry battalions supported by armored regiments. They were going to be pushing against the Republic outposts on the border, including the two major defensive points by the name Haven and Vanguard. The objective for day one was a large one, but theoretically possible if they put their minds to it and bodies to it. If they could get past these points in a timely fashion, getting to the outskirts of Agreus was next on the agenda.

The Shalumite general who had been tasked with commanding the invasion was Adam Fleming. He, like most of his rank, was a lifetime soldier from a military family. There was a significant difference between he and his other family members though. He had shown promise at an early age, and before long had found himself going to school at the 'Julius Holland Military Academy', which was Shalum's most renown academy for aspiring officers. They hadn't gone easy on Adam, but he had survived, and had even shined at times. And now, thirty-seven years later, he found with the opportunity to put everything that he had learned at the academy into practice. Before this operation, the last notable thing he had done was command a unit that had seen action during the 1989 Azzie incursion. He was known for leading a successful counterattack against an Azzie Fallschirmjäger unit--at a cost that he still regretted to this day.

As he looked around his command post, he could feel the tension in the air, see the nervous jitters of the battle-captains who would relay his orders without hesitation. Most of them hadn't done anything of this scale, they were for the most part, too young to have been involved in the incident from the eighties. There was only so much that drilling could do, only so much command experience that mock war games could provide to these men. Hopefully it would be enough. He trusted in their ability to adapt to the situation, but he had also learned that people could break under pressure.

He ignored the looks his officers sent him as he passed. Many looked at him with some form of admiration--they were getting to serve under General Fleming! However, others looked at him with worry, the smart ones anyway. How many of these men had seen combat, nay, how many of these men fought Azzies? They were animals on the battlefield, almost inhumane at times, as they seemed to lack fear. The men who looked at him with concern were probably those who knew what kinds of casualties they were about to take. As he reached the area where he would be commanding the operation from, a battle-captain spoke up. "General Fleming, sir! All forces are in position and are awaiting for the signal. On your word sir, Operation Open Season is go" the captain said.

There was a short pause as the general took another sip of his coffee before setting it down. "Gentlemen...today we strike a blow to the Republic. We show them that they're not as strong as they think they are. Give the signal! Operation Open Season is go" he ordered with a grunt. "May God help us this day" he said quietly as the screens in-front of him began to display live feeds from drones that had already been deployed.

----

Darren Krutz could feel his heart beating in his chest as he looked out at the scene ahead of him...and nothing had even happened yet. The sun was just rising over the hills, which he knew meant that the attack would begin any minute assuming there hadn't been a change in plans. While he couldn't see them, he knew there were allied tanks on either side of him, spaced out in-case the Revies got smart and tried to shell the other side of the border. He was the commander of a Gladiator 3S, the newest and most formidable variant of the Gladiator series, which had been around since the eighties. "This is Warhammer-1, all units report in" he grunted into his radio. He had already done this twice, role call that was, but he didn't want a single tank missing. They were going against one of the enemy hard points--Haven if he got the name.

Thunder-1 here! All tanks accounted for and running, waiting for the signal."

"Ogre-1 here! The gang is all here, running steady."

"Punisher-1 here, all tanks accounted for, just say the word and we'll give the Revies hell."

"Bison-1 here, everyone is my unit is present, waiting on the signal."

Darren grunted and nodded, everyone that was supposed to be present was, even though he knew that to begin with. All-in-all, there was fifty-five tanks present for this. Most of the tanks were Gladiator 2S's, except for his unit, which was fielding the Gladiator 3S. There was even a odd group of five Vyrsarian made Puma tanks here, why he didn't know, but they seemed dangerous enough. He checked his watch one last time. Even though the attack wouldn't begin till the signal, they had all been told what time they would be attacking. T-minus sixty seconds from what he gathered.

Exactly a minute later, the signal did come. It wasn't a high pitched wine of a whistle, nor was it the shout of orders over the radio. It was something much louder, the sounds of artillery booming. Behind Darren, and across multiple points along the border, Shalumite artillery began to open up on whatever Revie defensive positions there may have been across the border. Self-propelled and towed howitzers alike, most of which were 155mm in nature, though there were some smaller 105mm's mixed in, belted out fire that was aimed predesignated spots. The generals weren't concerned with holding these positions, no, they were more concerned with the vanguard units getting past them and pushing onward into Revie territory.

"That's the signal! All units commence attack!" Darren barked into his radio. "Driver get us moving" the tank commander grunted. A moment later, the Gladiator 3S lurched forward from it's position. On either side of Darren's tank, other 'Warhammer' tanks began to move forward as well, the other units that were involved joining in. The first two lines of the assault were tanks, for the most part Gladiator 2S variants. The following waves were of mechanized infantry, loaded in IFVs and APCs alike. Mixed in with the mechanized infantry, were Flakpanzer SPAAGs and a few armored recovery vehicles.

Across the border, this happened at multiple points, the mobile Shalumite army began pushing against the Republican positions. They had a general idea of what they were facing, but nothing solid when it came to numbers and gear. For the moment, the paratroopers of the 4th and 17th were being held back, waiting in reserve for the time being. Up in the air, Preacher air-superiority fighters from Volkel and Svatan airbases began to approached the border, ready to contend whatever Revie aircraft may have been present.

Operation Open season had begun, and Thracia would fall one way or another.

[Novitera]

Avantine, State of Soletrek, Novitera
Executive Center

Cassandra Donal - Executive Center, Chief of Staff
Eric Douglas - Executor of State
Harvey Gentry - Federation Directorate Panel, Intelligence Committee
Mason Dalach - Director of the Federation Intelligence Service
Willis Caelan - FIS, Chief of the Southern Belisaria Division


Instead of a conference room, the high ranking members of the Noviteran federal government chose a lounge within the Executive Center building. It was large and on one of the higher floors that had the Avantine skyline for a view. On this day it was raining and the skies were gray. The walls were decorated with pictures of Noviteran landscapes taken in black and white. All of the members sat on comfortable sofas or lounge chairs. At the head of the circle in her own chair was Cassandra Donal, the "gatekeeper" as they say to James Trask, the Chief Executor. A woman of 47 years and a little pudgy. Though her mind was sharp as ever. She would be leading the briefing and discussion.

"What am I to recommend to Trask about our future involvement in Azurlavai?" Cassandra asked opened the room to discussion.

Mason Dalach decided to speak up. "The intelligence efforts are proceeding as planned. We have we've had quite a few material successes already. I've told Willis here that we should shift our focus a bit on collecting intelligence other than military."

"Why is that? We've just sent 7 battalions and two air wings from what I hear." Harvey Gentry asked.

Willis would handle this as he knew the most about the situation in Azurlavai. "Well, our military intelligence collection efforts are not going to grind to a halt if that's what everyone is wondering. It's just that...we think the greater priority is investigating the circumstances which allow the Revenant to exist. This being, where they get their funding, where they get fuel and their operations outside of Azurlavai."

"I'd like to raise another issue. What are we to think of Arbites? We all know how our government feels about the Imperium despite never having made public statements regarding them." Eric Douglas asked.

"While their attack on Revenant infrastructure has dealt a strategic blow, something that should be seen as favorable, I think it was short sighted. The attack will only exacerbate the conditions that support crime and terrorism. Poverty, public disorder...even if there is a military victory against the Revenant, rebuilding Azurlavai into a stable environment will take even longer now. It may very well continue to exist as a haven for unlawful activity for years to come." Mason mused.

"An excuse for the Curia to establish an occupation after the war. Imperium presence on Atinum is unfavorable enough." Eric replied with distaste.

"We think that the missile strike has further inflamed the populace and gained the Revenant traction among the people. Perhaps towards foreigners in general. Especially if the Imperium fights alongside BL and UCA forces. Plus, as we have seen the Imperium's methods are quite...brutal. Having their boots on the ground will hinder our ability to winning hearts and minds. It will be more difficult to gain assets and establish beneficial relationships with community leaders." Willis added.

"At the same time, the Revenant is a capable military force that can hold its own as evidenced by their successes so far. Could the Imperium's contribution to the war effort outweigh the downsides?" Harvey asked.

"Not in the long run. What good would a military victory be if the end result is a humiliated and enraged populace combined with a dysfunctional environment. Not to mention a possible larger Imperium presence on the Belisarian continent. It would be laying the foundations for a second Azurlavaian conflict years down the road." Mason answered.

"On the other hand, a Revenant victory will create a rogue state on this continent. An even worse outcome. This is all just speculation for now. The imminent threat to regional security is the Revenant and they must be neutralized. There is no guarantee the Imperium will stick around after the war, even if the BL and UCA let them. We do not even know for sure if the UCA and BL will allow the Imperium to become involved in the first place." Casssandra interjected in the discussion.

"I think there is a chance they will. With the Revenant's latest successes, they might accept all the help they can get. I would. I say again, given what they have done and their methods, Imperium involvement will only further outrage the populace. But then again, the Commonwealth is outraged by the attack as well." Mason retorted.

"Then we'll deal with that as the time comes. What is the recommendation then?" Cassandra asked.

"Conduct military action as FASC sees necessary to undermine the Revenant for now but don't slug it out with them. I doubt we'll be able to make a dent with that strategy anyways. Instead, we should focus on stopping funding, fuel and armaments from getting into the hands of the Revenant." Willis declared confidently.

"Willis has informed me of the Outfit's key goals and how they plan to accomplish them. The Intelligence Committee finds them suitable. We'll have the details forwarded to your office. I'm also confident that the FDP will grant Trask discretion on how long our military forces will be involved." Harvey added.

"That is good news. Very well. I'll let Trask know. He's giving the Outfit and military wide discretion on how to handle this but wants to stay updated." Cassandra said then stood up.

Everyone else stood with her and exited the room without another word. They were all in a hurry to continue on with their work day.

[Shalum]

Kastell Isolation, October 24, 2350

Thomas felt oddly lighter after speaking about his experience. This was the first time that he could remember actually talking, albeit not much, about what he and Bull had done prior to deploying to Kastell. Under most circumstances, he was a quiet individual, keeping to himself when it came to how he felt. His men didn't need to hear his stories and woes, they had enough of their own as it was, especially with the war waging intensely now. So instead, he kept quiet, bottling up his emotions and throwing himself headlong into his duty as a soldier--and now a leader. Chances were, he wouldn't have said what he had to anyone else, but this was Astrid...which just seemed to make it different.

He felt his mind come to a screeching halt as he watched her turn around...and pull her top off? He knew that his eyes went wide at the sight of her back. There were so many scars, so many marks of war that he couldn't count them all. Sure he had accumulated a number himself (that he hadn't shown her) over time, but nothing near like what she had. His eyes didn't linger of those marks for long, as they were drawn to the prominent tattoo on her back which he knew immediately as the Templar logo. His brows furrowed as they read the words permanently written in her skin. It was quite obvious that they were important, these kinds of messages always were.

He felt almost frozen in place as he listened to her inform him of what the tattoo meant. It was a reminder, of what she had done as a Templar it seemed. Needless to say, he was surprised by the way she spoke. It sounded as if she regretted her service to the Order, at least in way. She had done things that she wasn't proud of, as many veteran soldiers had over the years, regardless of what side they may have served. In an odd way, it made him glad that he hadn't made it through the STG farm. If he had become a wet-work operator for the group, he would have been little more than a weapon, a tool to be used or thrown away at their disposal.

Then his eyes went down to the patch of black skin on her lower back. That didn't look good, not in the least. He could only look at it as she talked about what it was a result of, causing him to internally curse. He had long ago come to despise all forms of chemical warfare, ever since he had heard about the effects that it had on people. It was a nasty way to go, and to think, Shalum had a nice supply of Sarin stocked up in the event the Azzies tried to invade again.

He found himself take an unconscious step or two closer as he replied. "Shitze that's...horrible to hear" he replied quietly. What could he say? I feel for you? That would just be wrong to say, since he didn't even know what she was going through. He felt his heart twinge unaccountably at the thought of the strong, beautiful woman being forced into a wheelchair, especially at her age. She couldn't have been any more than a few months older than he was, at least he assumed.

"I don't even know what to say other than the Revenant are some cruel bastards" he replied with a tight lipped frown. Just another reason for him to keep fighting. She had, in the last two weeks, earned the status of battle-sister in his own eyes. "Carpe diem as they say. Size the day, live while you can" he said quietly. "The Revenant is going to pay, that much I'm sure" he nodded as he looked at her, eyes looking over her back. Regardless of all the markings and scars, she had a nice back.

Lowell City

Thomas grunted as he reached the entrance of the metro. She was supposed to be here, but there was no redheaded Azzie lieutenant in sight as far as he could tell. He took cover behind some rubble, pulling his MP61 tight across his chest. No hostiles spotted yet, but he could hear the cracks of what sounded like sniper rifles nearby. Who could claim those shots, Bad Kompanie or this 'Team Zeta' that he had been told off. He hoped they were Commonwealth guns, because from what he gathered, the Zeta sniper was a damn good one.

Glancing back at the metro, he sighed and pushed himself off his cover, making for the entrance. Knowing Astrid, she had probably decided to charge in without so much as support. She was a proverbial sitting duck in those tunnels, especially when she was alone, and that wasn't something that didn't settle well with him. He braced his MP61, which had seen him through many a mission, against his shoulder and made his way down the dark stairs. He hadn't tripped yet, it was a start.

The tunnels were perturbingly dark to him as he advanced as quietly as he could, sticking to the side of the tunnels when at all possible. It was only after a had entered his second tunnel that he realized that he had no earthly idea as to where he was going. They hadn't had much time to go over the tunnels, and even if they had, he was sure that most of that information would have been of no use now as he had no sense of direction. Every third step he felt compelled to glance over his shoulder, as if waiting for a specter to appearing and kill him from behind without much in the way of warning. And Jaeger being able to do just that didn't make him feel -any- better about the current state of affairs.

As an explosion rumbled through the tunnels, Thomas yelped in surprise, throwing his back against the nearby wall as he brought his MP61 to bear. He turned in the direction of where the explosion had originated from, waiting for someone to come from that direction, but they didn't. After a while, he pushed off the wall and began the long trek toward that general direction, not quite sure what he would stumble across. He moved slowly, ready to drop to one knee and fire off at a moments notice at the first sign of trouble. When he got closer, his eyes detected a figure moving his way. He couldn't tell anything about them, due to the lighting.

"Freeze!" he ordered in Gothic as he readied his weapon and dropped to a knee. His cringed as his voice seemed to echo through the tunnel. God he wished he wasn't alone, and especially that the lieutenant was with him--she was worth a small army.

----

John grunted as he sprinted forward, trying to get his bearings. How the hell did he lose her? She was frakking pregnant at that, not like she was going anywhere quick; which worried him in a way, as he was supposed to be protecting her. They had gotten split up by the Revie spooks, but he had managed to elude whomever was pursuing him, that much he was confident of. At the moment, he found himself moving through the maintenance halls, looking and listening for any signs that would have given him a clue as to where she was.

The sounds of two gunshots echoed through the halls, followed by a howls of what was most definitely pain. John grunted and began to run in that direction without fear, MP7 in hand ready to tear into whatever Revies got in his way. One thing they were going to learned the hard was to not threaten the friends of John-117, or unborn children for that matter. When you did that he got...rather angry; and he was scary when he was angry. He was also scarily fast for his size when he wanted to be.

As he rounded the corner, he found himself looking at blood on the ground, but no chairman. He cursed and advanced forward, weapon at the ready. As he got closer, he saw a man ahead of him lying on the railing, apparently recovering from some kind of attack. John assumed he was a Zeta member, going by the armor that he wore. He got close, leaning over the railing just enough for a clear shot. "Hey asshole, I don't know what got you into this state, but I'm gonna finish you" the STG operator grunted as he took aim. He wasn't quite sure if the bullets would go through the Revie's armor but it would certainly hurt him at the very least.

John didn't wait any more than a few moments to depress the trigger. He didn't have time to waste on this asshole, he needed to find Frieda.

Jaeger Land Plot

Wolfe watched Jaeger's hands with intent as he took her leg and set it in his lap, her green eyes going between his hands and her wound. She was surprised by just how gentle he was with her, considering he was normally rather gruff. What she found more intriguing, was the fact that she practically shuddered under his touch, her breath seeming to escape her. What the hell just happened? She wasn't quite sure, that had never happened before. Was her leg that sensitive after the injury? She hoped not, because that probably meant it was a bad thing. She glanced at Gus worriedly, reading his expression. It was one she had seen before...on the faces of medics.

As he set her leg down, she placed her arms on the table to catch herself if she fell. She wasn't balanced as she used to be with the injury, and she didn't want to risk hurting it again. She could walk just fine, if only with a small limp at times. She glanced at him with a slightly worried look. She knew that she had drained his supply, she wasn't stupid. She also knew that it wasn't looking as good for her as he (and she) would have liked. But that wasn't what worried her. It was the idea of going to town with him. She didn't...she didn't fit in just right, or so she thought. Sure she had a local name, and spoke the language properly, but she also knew that she was a Shalumite and didn't belong.

She glanced at the cooking pot, it should have been close to completion. She watched him grab his shotgun and sighed. Oh how she wished she could join him, if only to test her aim. "Don't do anything stupid you big lug" she called out as he went to leave, not quite sure if he heard. And then he was gone. She sighed and went to check the stew, a slight limp in her step. It was done, causing her to slid over the pot away from the heat. It would need a few more minutes to cool before it would be close to edible.

She sighed and went back to the chair to wait, little more she could do. It was a common problem she faced anymore, boredom.

[Cacerta]

HMS Adele, Arina Class Troop Transport Ship
East of Thesum Territorial Waters
Renata Civani hated being in the ocean. She admired it, sure, but she admired it from the land. She hated being in ships and she hated the taste of sea water. Now, sitting cramped with her crew in the bunks of a troop transport bound for Azurlavai, Renata regretted not joining the Air Fleet. At least whenever the Air Fleet traversed across oceans it didn't do any of this up and down shit.

Unfortunately for her, many have mistaken her hate of the ocean for a hate of her country. While it was probably true that it would've been better to have been born in a nation with a far-less association with the ocean, Renata did love the Kingdom. A native of Anzio and a graduate of its military academy, she was born for boots and treading dirt.

Renata took a brief look at the two cards in her hand and the five that had been place on the floor, smiling inwardly at the Ace and Ten of Spades she had in front of her, "Showdown, Emilia?"

Of the three other people in the crew of her Tuono, Emilia Sorrentino was the only one left in and she nodded with a smile, "You first Prima Capitana." The Tank Commander tossed down her two cards, revealing a Royal Flush to which Emilia let out a sigh in exasperation. "How are you so good at this game?"

"It's because she's just so good at keeping that smile off her face," said Gustavo Verri, their radio operator, with a chuckle, "A smile that you possess, Emilia, that gives away everything."

The four all laughed briefly before Emilia looked across at her commander, "Nervous?"

"Nervous about what?"

"Commanding the 3rd."

The recently promoted First Captain had not been given the chance to think too much on it. Succeeding Iralia Marik as commander of an Elite Armored Brigade was already enough of a challenge and -- while she has performed up to expectations so far -- getting into the Commonwealth was going to be a whole different deal on its own. She had talked with her battlegroup leader about their next deployment and they would be assisting the 5th Elite Armored and 3rd Mechanized in securing Halvo Bay for League forces.

Renata had seen combat in the Triple Continent Conflict, but back then all she had to worry about was her crew. Now she had a whole brigade of vehicles to carry on her shoulders.

"Yes, Emilia. I won't lie. I'm nervous as hell."

"You know, at least we're not going to be the first one's to hit the beach."

They were lucky in that regard.

Felicia's Mechanized were going to be hitting the ground at Halvo Bay first and it was their responsibility to make sure things were secure when Emilia's elements arrived. And while the last intelligence reports stated that the city was still held by Commonwealth forces, the way the war was going -- that could changed at any moment.

[Shalum]

Occupied Liam/Gwinnet State Border

In terms of militarization, Occupied Liam was one of the more prominent points of defense for the Shalumite military due to circumstance of location. In short, it was surrounded on three sides by Azzie states that the northerns didn't exactly get along with. It had not originally been part of the Shalumite states, but instead had been acquired during the late sixties when the DSS had booted the Republic who were occupying it's southern half out of Shalum. Two infantry divisions hadn't payed attention to the maps, and before long, what was now known as Occupied Liam was under Shalum's firm control. And judging by the number of men present, ready to defend the area, it did not seem as if there were any plans of handing Liam over any time soon--at least peacefully.

On the border, things were relatively quiet on the eastern side. The defenders here had never had any run in's with their counterparts in Gwinnet, something of a rarity on the border as a whole. The western side of the border was a far different, however that was a story for another day. Of course, there was still a bit of dislike on both sides, something natural when it came to the two groups, but it had not come to fisticuffs just yet. Hopefully, the fresh division of Commoner forces who were beginning to spread out through Occupied Liam would put a damper on any plans that Azzie invaders may have been contemplating.

Normally, things were quite dull for those stationed here, and anything akin to gossip was usually sought after, and in the recent weeks; there had been plenty of it to go around. Slowly but surely, forces were beginning to trickle in along the border, primarily units from the army; from air assault to mechanized infantry. Surprisingly, very little of these new arrivals found themselves on the defensive lines, instead occupying the bases deeper in controlled territory. The air force was here as well, moving a number of planes in to conduct operations that the border guards knew nothing of. There had been rumors of cruise missile batteries being set up near Fort Manchester, but none of those reports could have been considered credible.

The few that knew what was going on were a bit nervous about things. This was Phase II of the invasion of Azurlavai, the target being Gwinnet state. High Command and the Conclave of Dominae were wanting all lands east of Occupied Liam under Shalumite control while they could, and it was clear that they were willing to fight for it. However, it seemed as if they were willing to go ahead and move south and take over the rest of the Azzie state. Already long range cruise missiles were being sighted to hit military targets, but only those. The way things were going, it seemed that those of high rank in the military and government in the DSS had an agenda of their own.

[Arbites]

To: The Office of Imperator Holland
From: Ambassador Gagnier
Subject: Azurlavai
Encryption: Highest
Attachments: (...)

Blessings of the Emperor be upon you. In these dark times, Shalum and the Imperium share a common purpose. Your nation knows better than most the sort of threat a resurgent Republic of Azurlavai poses, not just to southern Belisaria but to the entire international community. Only by the Inquisition's vigilance has the Imperium avoided a wave of terror bombings and assassinations sponsored by the Revenant in its desperation.

Should this war drag out, all of Cornellia could be looking at decades of Azurlavaian terrorism. The Revenant has the resources and resolve to fight off any halfhearted efforts, and the Commonwealth has been shaken to its core by the attack on Lowell City. If the conflict can be brought to a decisive conclusion quickly by coordinated action, however, millions of lives could be saved.

I would like to propose a meeting to discuss the situation in Azurlavai, the Imperium's tentative plans, and coordination between Imperial and League military forces. As a gesture of good faith and to demonstrate the necessity of our actions, I have attached several reports and satellite photos of Revenant forces mobilizing on the coast of Kinischa for review by the STG. Altinum was defenseless against actions of this scale. Those with agendas have sought to diminish the Aragon Accords. We hope to release this intelligence shortly to put those allegations to rest.

By His Will,
Ambassador Gagnier

[Azurlavai]

To: All Participants, Foreign and Domestic, of the War in Azurlavai
From: The peoples' defender, the Lost Legion
Subject: A New Dawn
Dispersal: Leaflets and posters appearing en masse across the country overnight

To those taking part in the War for Azurlavai,

This is your warning. We of the Lost Legion, the people -you- strive to control, have had enough. For too long, we have sat idle and watched our sons, daughters and brothers march for your wars. For too long, we have played the sheep to the shepherd, the slaves in the factories and the dead on the battlefield. There have been too many regime changes, too much violence to solve problems.

Enough is enough. Nothing has changed in ten years, since this war began. Only more lives lost. We know what the problem is.

The problem is you. Revolutionaries and governments who declare they will do it better than those who came before. Armies crying for honor and a better tomorrow. So we shall remove the problem.

The Lost Legion is an army of the people, for the people. People who are tired of constant war, people tired of foreigners trampling on our soil to 'solve' our issues. People who do not want a revolution, do not want a better way of life. We are the people who simply want to live without worry of an artillery barrage in the middle of the night, of uniformed thugs burning down our houses, of our families being drafted to go to their meaningless deaths. So we will end the war by ending you and starting anew.

Do not mistake us for supporting Svakke and his fool's crusade. We are not the Revenant. The Revenant holds to the ideals of being a soldier, that even in the war for survival, there is still honor and limits. Look at what that mentality got our country. We are not a force of soldiers, bound by unspoken laws and immaterial honor. We are a force of blooded, bruised, beaten people. We are animals, because you -made- us animals. So we shall -fight- like animals.

We are the Lost Legion. And we shall tear away the old world so the new may sprout in its place. No more Commonwealth, no more Republic, no more foreign rule and intervention.

And we shall start with Altinum, to repay the Imperium for the 200,000 they have already claimed.

We are the Lost Legion. And we fight for those who cannot be heard in the storm.

[Azurlavai]

Operation: Open Season
Day 1

When the Revenant had rolled up Gwinnett and Thracia states, they had left enough military forces behind to hold onto those states before swiftly turning west, smashing into the Commonwealth defense lines outside of the capital. While certainly depleted of most of their power to funnel into the attack on Azurlavai’s heartland, this by no means left those forces in Thracia vulnerable. They still had aircraft from Thracia’s airfields and more than enough tanks and soldiers to man the defense posts.

Agreus, the closest major city to the border, was located pretty far in the north, far more reliant on their defenses instead of geography since the State army had been extremely invested in air power, turning out the Commonwealth’s best pilots from their well-trained ranks and the universities that studied aerial warfare. Keeping Agreus safe from Shalum had been the old DMZ (left abandoned by both the Revenant and the UC remnants in the state) and two large bases. Vanguard and Haven both held vital passes south that led to the city itself, and both were held by combined arms forces who knew what they were doing here in this rearguard formation. While manning these posts so far back from the border, they would be giving up territory, but at least they could hold the pass against superior numbers.

Each post had been designed as hold-outs in case the Shalumites ever got through the DMZ, a place where units could fall back to and lock up the place until reinforcements arrived. Unfortunately, they had not been designed to work in reverse, hence why the Revenant had been so easily able to storm the place. While there had been a fight, it hadn’t lasted long, and now the posts both had the red banner of the Revenant flying where the blue one had only weeks ago.

Both posts had artillery embedded inside of them, as well as hardened bunkers with Salve MLRS turrets and SAMs mounted on the buildings. On top of these, the soldiers here were finally getting good living conditions after so much fighting recently, and it was starting to look like they might enjoy being posted here. Each post had the equivalent of a battalion in its walls, with armor support and even a wing of gunships at a nearby airfield to assist them. These units, known simply as the 36th and 19th, had been at the forefront of the combat in Gwinnett, and as such had several tanks from the ‘Traitorous 6th’ in their ranks, granting much confidence to their commanders and the troops nearby.

But as the lookouts shouted warnings and artillery shells began smacking down around Haven and Vanguard, both posts realized the war had come back to visit them again. There were no QRF aircraft on standby right now due to the greater need down south, but hopefully the SAMs lining these hills would keep the Shalumites from bringing the Air Force down on them.

The 125mm howitzers in both posts began exchanging fire, booming deeply off to counter the enemy artillery, while the scouts retreating from the massive Shalumite charge were feverishly feeding coordinates back, getting the MLRS bunkers ready to shell the enemy.

Hundreds of Revenant warriors rushed from their bunkers. Like in Lowell, they’d done away with militia cannon fodder up here, and chances were they would stop entirely. Still, there was an Extra Order unit stationed in Agreus, where the real military presence was.

First and foremost, the tanks deployed. A line of Neshorns, Ambolts, Sabertooths and Mammuts lined up outside both posts to give the infantry time to give in, ready and waiting to open fire on the first Shalumites to get close.


----------------------------

To: Valerian Augustus
From: Anton Gauring, Council Deacon of the United Commonwealth
Subject: Your Wishes


My Good Sir,

Your plan, while admirable, is foolhardy. Do you not realize exactly who you’re speaking about? The Revenant don’t talk, they manipulate. Everything that Svakke says is a lie in preparation for an attack, getting ready to plunge the dagger into your back. In my opinion, the only way to get rid of this plague is to burn the eastern half of the country to the ground.

Don’t get me wrong, I am certainly for peace and talking things out. But you can’t talk to animals. If you can finally manage to make the Revenant agree to be civilized and send a representative, then sure, I can spare one of my invaluable assistants to attend as well, away from their duties here at home.

~Deacon Anton Gauring

To: Valerian Augustus
From: Field Marshal Johan Svakke
Subject: Negotiations


My Good Sir,

First, I want to say how thankful I am to see that we are gaining a little bit more positive attention in the political realm. While conditions are hardly ideal with an invasion coming upon us and Lost Legion activity rearing up, it means we are at least doing one thing right in a sea of morally ambiguous decisions.

Secondly, I am more than willing to put forward a representative. I’ve always been a fan of discussing issues, but the current war always felt like we’d gone too far for that. Perhaps times have indeed changed.

I cannot promise we will like what we hear. I can only be so reasonable before I am sacrificing, but you are right. A military victory, while previously attainable with Operation Vraskyl, is not so easily achieved now with the Imperium throwing their weight into this war. I’m already scrambling to put my resources together in order to begin preparing to repulse this attack, starting with the firm fortifying of Lowell City, Wyzrin and Talorn.

We’ll see what the Commonwealth has to say, but I for one am at least glad to open the lines of diplomacy with a world power willing to speak.

~Sincerely,

Johan Svakke, Field Marshal

[Azurlavai]

Kastell Isolation, October 24, 2354

She felt a light chill rolling up her spine, despite the heating system of the castle working quite well and the gym itself being warm. All of sudden it felt a little difficult to breathe, and she had to fight just to inhale.

“Good thing I’ve got you here then, isn’t it Thomas?” she asked him, glancing back over her shoulder at him. A few brown locks of her short hair made the transition over the slope of flesh, and suddenly it felt less like a meaningful bonding moment between two shoulders and more like one of those see-through ‘tense’ romantic moments in a movie.

Only this one wasn’t see-through. It really was tense when she was in the spotlight, and she felt slightly vulnerable to his eyes, half-naked like this and looking over her shoulder at him like some kind of cover girl. What the hell was wrong with her? Plenty of men had seen her naked, and only a fraction of them were men she’d slept with. The military beat out that nervousness in you of others seeing your bare body, desensitized you to the concept of nudity in the barracks. That was why quarters and showers were co-ed in Azurlavai, there was a point and purpose to it.

But right now, all of sudden, they weren’t two soldiers just standing there talking. Now, they were a man and a woman, and she had her shirt off. What was happening, what had made this shift? All Astrid knew was that she was halfway torn between yelping and scrambling for her top…and letting him see it all. Her inner conscience seemed to battle between the two for a second before she realized her top was behind her anyway, from where she’d let it fall.

And then she made a decision she would either regret the rest of her life or…some other alternative she couldn’t really think of.

Slowly, she let her arms down to her hips, turning around and trying her best to remember those sexy shots from models on the covers of magazines her squadmates had, but knowing she wasn’t really pulling it off. Still, as she came to face him, she felt her face redden, and she felt the urge to glance away at the floor like some shy, demure little girl before deploying for her term.

What was wrong with her now?! She’d slept with several men before, been married once and even had a time with another woman (an instance she’d rather not repeat) so why was she having so much trouble even just facing this man? No, she was not going to be cowed like this! She straightened her gaze, looking back at Thomas determinedly, letting him see her torso in full. Aside from her shoes and shorts, she was almost completely naked.

Her chest was covered in just as many, if not more, scars than her back. Puckered bullet wounds, stab wounds, burn marks and chafe scars. A single scar from a rather vicious hand-to-hand fight with a Liamite Trencher stretched across one breast, and she had a single bullet scar next to her heart, but otherwise those parts of her were remarkably unmarked by battle. She had a single tattoo across her chest, a strand of barbed wire that hugged her collarbone and dove down between her breasts until it reached her belly button. It was an older one, something she’d gotten in her youth before she’d deployed on her term, before the Order had scooped her up. Now she didn’t even remember why she’d gotten it.

Quietly, she stepped over to him, her workout shoes remarkably loud in the silent gym. Finally, Astrid was only a few feet away, and her hands reached out, taking Thomas’ as she tried her hardest to keep eye contact with him.

“You’re pretty good at watching my back…” she said, lamely, her voice lacking any of the confidence she wanted to portray.

Godsdammit.

[Late Roman Empire]

To: Field Marshal Johan Svakke
From: Valerian Augustus
Subject: Negotiations

Field Marshal,

Let me assure you that while there will likely be some sacrifices asked for from your end of things, there will also be a call for the same from your opposition. The point of this proposed conference is to stop the fighting immediately, to sit down coolly, and to begin to discuss and negotiate the future of Azurlavai without the added pressure of continued warfare, in a location far away from the troubles. We wish to reason with both of you and bring this bloodshed to a long-delayed end, to achieve a lasting, if imperfect peace.

Should you have any security concerns, let me assure you that the Empire is prepared to offer you a safe-conduct on its soil and to guarantee your safety at the summit. Whichever delegate you choose will be treated with all appropriate protocol, of course.

In Hoc Signo Vinces,
Valerianus Augustus

To: Council Deacon Anton Gauring
From: Valerian Augustus
Subject: Negotiations

Council Deacon,

Let me assure you that while there will likely be some sacrifices asked for from your end of things, there will also be a call for the same from your opposition. The point of this proposed conference is to stop the fighting immediately, to sit down coolly, and to begin to discuss and negotiate the future of Azurlavai without the added pressure of continued warfare, in a location far away from the troubles. We wish to reason with both of you and bring this bloodshed to a long-delayed end, to achieve a lasting, if imperfect peace.

Should you have any security concerns, let me assure you that the Empire is prepared to offer you a safe-conduct on its soil and to guarantee your safety at the summit. Whichever delegate you choose will be treated with all appropriate protocol, of course.

In Hoc Signo Vinces,
Valerianus Augustus

[Shalum]

A cry for help, a distant whisper
A foreign nation calling our name
Sent to hell, to reach for heaven
To serve in dark, as light in the black

Sent into battle to aid strangers in need
Gain independence, our forces will lead
Final solution when all others have failed
Liberation is coming our path has been laid

Operation: Open Season
Day 1

Unfortunately for the Shalumite military, the majority of the units being sent in to face the Republic head on were green in nature. For the most part, the soldiers participating did have more than the required four years of service under their belts, meaning that there was a better chance of them turning out to be career soldiers in the long run, assuming they survived the battles to come. Even so, the majority of them had never shot at live targets, or had even seen them up close for that matter. These weren't the hardened soldiers that came from the Gallagher/Liam DMZ, no. The majority of the men here had been operating out of central and northern Shalum up until now, away from the conflict that the soldiers on the southern border had to face.

What they lacked in experience, they did their best to make up for with good gear and rigorous training, though it could only do so much to help them. Unlike their enemies to the south, they had a rather good budget for equipment acquisition, and the military wanted the best their funds could acquire, a small amount of extra interest going into the tanks and other armored vehicles the Shalumite employed, along with the helicopters that the army used for both utility and attack purposes. Much of the Shalumite doctrine focused on being mobile, and had been that way to a degree throughout history, as many of the battles fought in the Shalumite homeland had been waged in the central regions; where it was more level terrain. This did not mean, however, that the army infantry got the short end of the stick when it came to training and tech. As a whole, it was usually the navy that was out of luck when it came to funding increases, though they managed to get by with what they had.

Where the army lacked experience on the ground, the air force made up for it in the skies. Many of the pilots present on the southern border, and the surrounding areas, had seen their fair share of combat missions, even if it meant as little as seeing a Shalumite bomber unit down south to hit Revie targets in the more recent campaign or flying alongside the border looking for the stray renegade who attempt to head north with more than refugee-like intentions. The pilots, unlike in the army, were volunteers for the most part, instead of men and women who had been assigned their place in the army or navy. Before they ever got the opportunity to fly in the combat and bombing squadrons that they did today, they had been cadets at one of Shalum's military academies run by the government, and had gotten better training than those in the State Defense Airforce.

=====

General Adam Fleming grunted as he watched a live UAV feed of the artillery positions under his command, which were now beginning to receive counter fire. As he saw it, most of the crews who were unfortunate to be attacked in reply died almost instantly, between the initial explosion of the enemy round and the live rounds which went off around them. It was a sickening sight to see them die in such a manner, but that was the nature of war after all. Only they had truly seen the end of conflict, as the saying went. He did managed to find a small amount of pride in the crews who were still alive though, as their guns never ceasing other than when they had to reload.

"Goddammit, where the hell are those MLRS's I was promised?" the redheaded general asked abruptly; his green eyes never leaving the screens in-front of him for too long. The armored units under his command were getting closer with every moment, and he wanted to see how this went. Rumor was that his Gladiators would be facing Mammuts among other things. He wasn't especially concerned about the older tanks, though he wasn't dumb either, he knew that they were respectable vehicles. He just happened to know a bit about Azurlavain tank warfare, and if anything he knew held up, the Mammuts wouldn't go down easily. He knew that the problem could have been solved by sending attack craft in, something that he had more than enough of, but he didn't want to send them headlong into combat in vain.

The battle-captain that answered him was a tall German woman who hailed from the city of Frankfurt. She was every bit of six foot tall, with slim, but not quite boyish features. Her skin was pale, like she needed to get out in the sun a bit more often, and her hair was a light blonde that could have almost been considered white when the light struck it. And freckles spotted the areas under her green-blue eyes. Her name was Nora Kromer. She gave a quiet sigh as she replied. "They arrived only minutes before the attack, sir, they've yet to have time to set up shop and get acquire targets. They did have to rush all the way down from Aragon" she stated in a rather matter-of-fact tone. Some of her fellow officers glanced at her in surprise, though she didn't look worried. She'd been serving the general since the mid-2000s and there had been more than one opportunity to dismiss her, and yet it had never come.

The ginger haired general had a tight lipped frown, but nodded. "Alright, alright. The minute they can though, see if they can open up on the Azzies, I'm sure those 220mm rockets could be a big help" he conceded. "And somebody get those SPG's moving again, they're sitting ducks where they are and I'm sure the M777s can do bad all by themselves. It's gonna be days before we even have the opportunity to get more of the buggers, and I plan to use them at Agreus if at all possible. And I don't plan on waiting days to lay siege there" he declared. A few officers nodded and began to relay the orders to the fifty of so SpeerWurf SPH's that were participating in the bombardment of the border.

=====

The Gladiator series had been around since the late eighties, and had replaced the Patton M60A3 as Shalum's primary main battle tank. While it wasn't the only vehicle that Shalumite National Defense Industries put out, it was by far the most notable of what they sold. The most currents series, the 3S was a formidable opponent for whatever it may have faced, with a L55 120 mm Smoothbore Cannon as it's primary weapon, with an XM806 and a HK121 to back it up if infantry got to close. The 2S and 3S alike were outfitted with auto-loaders, which cut the crew down to three at any given time. It took approximately seven seconds to load the main gun, about a second-and-a-half slower than the Gladiator 1 which was done manually.

While the Gladiator 2 and 2S relied on depleted uranium mesh-reinforced composite armor to protect them, the 3S boasted newer Nano-crystal steel and Modular ceramic composite armor--something that Shalum had only decided on using only recently, due to the cost. There was a reason why there were only one-hundred-and-fifty 3S models in service at the moment, over half of which could be found participating in one of the two invasion plans.

"Holy shit! We're really fucking doing this!" the gunner of Darren's tank yelled out suddenly as the tank continued to charge forward while artillery boomed overhead. The radios were alive as the men under his command talked back and forth, trying to make what they could of the situation. The Shalumite artillery boys were taking causalities, from what they gathered, but it sounded as if there was going to be a few more guns joining their side very soon.

"What the hell did you expect, Danny? You think this was some training mission?" Commander Darren replied wryly as he looked through his periscope. He could see the target up ahead, the defensive fortifications that they were supposed to eliminate on their march to Agreus. But that wasn't what worried him, no. The infantry could handle that when the time came. What he was worried about was the enemy tanks in the distance. "Danny! You loaded a sabot right?" he asked intently.

"Yes sir, M290 loaded and hot!" the gunner replied as he settled into his seat; looking into his sights.

"Gunner, sabot enemy tank, dead ahead!" Darren ordered. He couldn't tell what the make of it was, but it looked like a Neshorn--though he hadn't taken as much time as he should have to study up on local tanks. Already he had the target set, and the rangefinder zeroing in. The Gladiator's computer would handle the elevation part, but he could take over manually if he had to.

The gunner hesitance was only momentary, as thoughts of what he was about to do ran through his mind. There was the chance that he was about to end a life, if not more than one. But he couldn't think about that now! He was a solider dammit! It was time for him to be blooded, as Shalumites called it. "Up!" Danny called back, though he didn't have to, the shell already in loaded.

"Firing!" Danny grunted as he pulled the trigger. The tank rocked as the 120mm gun roared, sending the round at breakneck speeds toward the Azzie tanks formations. Around them, other Gladiator's began to join in once they got into range, their main guns joining into the sickeningly sweet crescendo of fire that could be heard on the battlefield.

[Azurlavai]

Kalvidge Anchorage
Bekett, South Coastline

In winter, the icecaps often vented their fury on this coastline, pelting it in snow and smashing against the shoreline mountains with all kinds of frozen fury. Blizzards were common, and often the only ships going out were those large enough to brave the frost. But in summer, the shores thawed, and even though snow occaisonally fell instead of rain and glaciers could be spotted far out on the water, it meant that there were no more blizzards, no more sheets of ice to contend with, and it was the best time to put to sea.

Kalvidge Anchorage was once a small fishing hamlet with a small port for putting in larger crab vessels. Though the town had hit a turn of bad luck because of the war, the place hadn't been abandoned long. And it recently had picked up a slew of new inhabitants. The Lost Legion had divided their forces in half, to better facilitate the stream of men and material coming to them. While they were getting new recruits joining inside many cities themselves, the actual war material had to be stored in these areas so as to protect them. Here, underground dugouts and civilian garages kept the vehicles from prying eyes, and the boat shelters would hide many of their fledgling navy. Though normally half of the attack force would be in Kinishcha, at Byvelmont Harbor where the freighters could easily blend in, these ships had been slowly transferred with the forces attached ever since the news came out that the Imperium were the ones responsible.

Now, they had their attack force in one place, grouped together as a single front. Green emblems were everywhere now, spray-painted in the dead of night on the hulls of tanks and aircraft. For now, the ships were left bare, to keep up surprise for as long as possible. Just because they had announced their intent didn't mean they were going to head in with their path lit out before them.

Thousands of people had gathered here, deserters, mercenaries, avengers, xenophobes, anyone the Legion could take. They were here to fight the foreigners and end the wars by any means necessary, and they loaded the ships with deadly intent and purpose. Each man was responsible for his own weapons, and the collection that the Legion had put together was impressive in the short time it had been done. One of the freighters was being loaded with helicopters, the deck receding down into the cargo hold to allow their small air armada to fit inside the makeshift carrier.

Of course, it would be impossible to hide the warships. The sub, the destroyer and the patrol boats were all clearly weapons of war, but that was where speed would be of the essence here. The flagship of the Legion fleet, the Jormungandr had only just arrived that morning, but Havsson, the fleet's commander, was already getting her ready to go again. With Adela Baskova (who had defected from the Revenant) preparing to strike in cities across Azurlavai and Pavel Adamek still in Kinischa readying to build a new force should this attack fail, the Legion would be ready in mere hours.

But for every minute they sat here as a combined fleet, the greater the chance they would be detected. They would have to hurry.

[Azurlavai]

Schmeidesse, Rheinmetall State

To say that the great city of industry was on the verge of slipping into complete chaos was an understatement. The Steel Legion’s numerous checkpoints had become even more fortified, turning the factory city into an occupied zone in and of itself. Tanks and APCs conducted regular patrols through the city, taking entire streets to themselves while their gunners cautiously watched the buildings around them, looking for a single sign of disturbance to fire upon.

In all fairness, the Legion’s paranoia wasn’t misplaced. There had been several riots which, while they were allowed within the allotted protesting squares, had been brutally put down when they tried to spread. Already, the Lost Legion’s emblem had been found spray-painted in dozens of different locations, usually with a few corpses of dead Steel Legion soldiers or UCA troopers nearby. This, in turn, provoked the Steel Legion into tightening their security measures, and hearing of the violence further north as well as Tritonsberg’s fate was only making it worse.

Plus, the whole idea of abandoning the entire state to fortify the city was a bit of a downer as well.


-----------------------------------

Guttering Square

Guttering Square had been named back when Schmeidesse had been refounded into an actual city in 1871, after the Cornellian withdrawal. During that time, a lot of butchers had set themselves up in the area to take advantage of the straight flow to farmlands outside of the city. Though the farmlands and the shops were since long gone, the name still stood, and the fact that blood had been shed in this plaza many times seemed fitting.

Currently, the place was little better. The crowds had yet to abate, though the area was walkable. A Steel Legion Stumwagen sat in the street nearby, a spotlight mounted up top as it swept the crowds around it. Legionnaires deployed around the vehicle stood watch, seven of them, holding their TR-93s close and carefully scanning to make sure the workers weren’t about to turn into a vicious mob. Everytime someone got close, one of the long-coated soldiers would wordlessly shove the man or woman away, their faces strangely dehumanized by their gasmasks and goggles. It was quite an intimidating sight.

Raghnild and her group were on the far side of the square from the Legionnaires. As well as the warrior woman herself, there were about twenty others, many of them sporting tattoos declaring their worship of Odin, while others seemed like factory workers swept up in the cause, a handful even sporting uneven tans from where their Steel Legion gas masks had covered their faces before they had slipped away to take part in this raid.

Spotting Tenya and her group, Raghnild jerked her head towards a side street before striding over, and the rest of her heavily-armed party did as well.

The Legionnaires, for their part, ignored the group. They were moving away, not attacking.

[Shalum]

Kastell Isolation, October 24, 2355

"Umm yeah...yeah it is" he managed to stammer out in response as he tugged on the collar of his athletic shirt.

The Shalumite captain could feel nervous jitters running through him, his hands cold, and it almost seemed like they were shaking. Gah! Why the hell did he feel like this? There was no reason to be as nervous as he he was feeling, like a teenager who was seeing a naked female for the first time. Hell, he had seen many women in a lot less, most of whom he had never even been intimate with. Between his time in army boot camp and in the STG farm, there had been plenty of opportunity, and for that reason he had become desensitized to the simple sight of a bare woman. But not when it came to her, it seemed. He found no difficulty looking past the scars and the tattoo, the later of which was uncommon to see on Shalumites, and admire her for what she was--a rather attractive woman.

Some part of him mused that she belonged in some magazine due to her current state, without a top and glancing over her shoulder like a model from the cover of one a magazine that someone in Bull always seemed to scrounge up. As she looked back at him, her brown locks moving just a bit as she titled he head, he found it suddenly a bit harder to breath, and even focus for that matter. What the hell was wrong with him? He could practically feel the air growing more tense, buzzing with energy around them as they traded looks. He did his best to keep his brown orbs locked with her own, but it was rather hard to do, all things considered. Much like in the helicopter to Gallows Rest, he had the strong urge to look away.

Before he realized what was going on, Astrid had let her arms fall to her side, and had turned around to face him, no longer making an effort to cover herself...or her chest. Thomas felt his own face heat up at the sight, visibly gulping in surprise as he took the sight in. His eyes were torn between staring back at her own, and giving the rest of her body a look, the later of which he yielded to after a moment. It was clear that she wanted him to look, and it was an offer that he would not decline.

His eyes were already wide as they could get, but he was quite sure they were at the point of wanting to expand. He hadn't been expecting to see as many marks of war as he did, even for an Azzie commando like her. It made sense, of course, that she had accumulated as much as she had, consider that most bullets and attacks were aimed toward a soldier's chest due to it being a larger target then the head was. His eyes studied the tattoo on her chest, wondering what that was about. What was with Azzies and tattoos? The permanent markings were practically looked down upon in Shalumite culture, though people didn't say much of it publicly. And then, of course, there was the rest of her to look at...

The captain felt his breath quicken as she stepped closer, taking his hands with her own. Compared to her, his hands looked like a child's, and there was a reason why he had played goalie for his high school's soccer team. Without ever breaking contact, his gently interlaced his fingers with her own, hesitantly tugging a bit as if to subtly urge her to get a bit closer. "It-er-always needs to be watched, Astrid" he replied with a similar lameness and a sheepish expression. He noted that she sounded much like he did, lacking in confidence here.

As he looked down at her, he found the expression rather cute. He had never seen her this...normal in appearance. There wasn't the normal lieutenant Deinhardt here, just Astrid the woman look up at him. He felt himself, at this moment, longing for her to be closer to him physically, there still a small gap of space between them. He found his eyes glancing at her lips now, breaking the eye contact that he had been trying so desperately to hold. He felt a small spark in him...of courage. He had an idea, and if he thought about it for too long, he knew he would back out due to over thinking.

"Umm Astrid?" he stammered. "Feel free to...kick my ass later if you--screw it" he continued. Not giving her time to response, he leaned forward and kissed her, closing the gap. He would have preferred to have his hands free so that he could pull her close, or cup her face, but neither of those were an option, so this would have to do. Hopefully she would be receptive.

[Azurlavai]

To: Ambassador James Quadatrus
From: Field Marshal Johan Svakke
Subject: RE: Status of CPO Mission

Dear Mister Ambassador,

While certain events have forced me to be cautious and cagey, I have discovered this fact to be in error, and must apologize for what may seem to be a lack of cooperation. I have not had much ability as a man of diplomacy, and have only just been informed that I have been making several mistakes in my approach.

I do indeed approve of the CPO mission. With so many of my troops on the frontline and the civilians on my soil working hard to support us (strained after the bombings and with the Lost Legion sniffing around) I must also think of those people who are so hard-off that they cannot even reach a city or troop formation, and who will be there to assist them. My forces will -not- attack CPO peacekeepers or humanitarian or refugee camps, and -any- violations to this will be treated on a case-by-case basis, and quite harshly at that. For they will clearly be defying my orders.

Given the current situation I find myself in, I need to spread goodwill as far as I can to clear up our intentions. The Commonwealth was a good idea in theory, but you see now what they are near the desperate end. I have no desire to see my army brought low like that or my lands despoiled in such a way. I would rather die first. The issue of Imperial deployment has me worried, and though I feel my chances will be low, I must ask if there is any aide you can lend to us in order to help defend ourselves from foreign assault. Its not bad enough we have to fight our own, now we have an invasion incoming. I understand this is a question that is difficult to hear from someone who ordered mercenaries to attack your men, but I must try to gather any and all assistance I can.

So, I hereby extend the hand of peace. My forces can no longer stretch forward so long as my people are at risk. I give my word that my forces will not attack any CPO operating bases regardless of your own response. This is a move I must make for the people of Azurlavai, not simply those of the NRA.

~Sincerely,

Johan Svakke

[Azurlavai]

Kastell Islolation

She barely heard his words, more concerned with how close they were. She could see the shallow line of freckles across his nose, just under his eyes. She doubted anyone else could see them from further away. She looked down into his eyes, physically almost level but still feeling so small right now, standing here almost bare before him. She felt a bit vulnerable for the first time since she’d divorced Lars. A flash there, in his orbs, some kind of emotion that she figured she knew what it was.

But as he leaned in and their lips finally connected, her mind went blank. He didn’t seem eager to push…so she did. Disconnecting her hands from his, her arms went up and wrapped around his neck, pulling him in as she let out a breath slowly, tilting her head. Some small part of the back of her mind pointed out that this was the first time she’d been intimately physical like this with a man since her divorce years ago, and done it with any real emotion. Sure, there had been others since Lars, but those had mainly been to get the tension out, let herself relax and stay focused on the mission and, in all honesty, to have some fun every once in a while.

Another part of her mind pointed out that she was throwing herself at a man she had known for mere weeks and was half-naked in front of him.

She acknowledged that part before blocking it out, one of her hands reaching down and taking one of his, slowly tugging it up until she felt his fingers on her bare breast. She gasped, pulling back to hiss between her teeth before she pushed in again, pressing her lips to his almost forcefully, throwing aside gentleness to greedily plunge onwards, pulling him in and coiling a leg around his own.


Lowell City

All she could really do was keep dragging one foot after another, trying to keep going on forwards. Her pistol hung limply in her hand, the other one supporting her against the wall. She’d lost her shotgun, her flashlight and most of her ammunition. She was in no shape to keep pushing on, but she did anyway. It was what she did. She was Gallagheriscen. She’d been a warrior since she was 7 years old. Getting the tar beat out of her and almost killing herself with her own launcher was survivable. And if she survived, she could still fight.

Abruptly, a light flashed in her eyes, and words were shouted, words distorted in her ears. Her head slowly dragged up, staring over at Thomas and squinting in the low light.

“She got away…I had her and she got away.”

No, that wasn’t right. If anything, Jentye had Astrid. Faster, stronger, tougher, the assassin could have ended her life with only a minute more. She leaned against the wall, blinking as she realized a thin line of blood had trickled into her eye. She must have looked like a mess. Hardly the woman from last night. Which she suddenly didn’t want to think about again.

“Dammit, was I going towards the same entrance I came in?”

----------

Dahl threw himself flat, huffing as he fumbled for another magazine. He and this sniper had been fighting each other across half of this damn quarter, exchanging shots that passed within a seconds’ bad reaction of taking out the other. They were doing away with style in this duel, aiming for the center of mass to bring the other down. The enemy had skill, he had to give him that. To haul around that massive anti-material rifle as fast has he was meant that this guy wasn’t afraid to take a little heft for the extra power. Still, Dahl preferred to stay out of the way. Unlike most ground troops, he wasn’t intimidated by the fact that it was a 12.7mm weapon. He knew that snipers cared very little about the actual power of their rifles, and relied more on skill. Hell, he could make a headshot from a mile away with a dinky little 5.56 and still make the kill. No style needed.

But this guy…he knew how to play the weapon’s strengths. The large-caliber rounds slammed away at Dahl’s cover, punching through concrete and metal to search for the commando. But as the duel continued, Dahl got a good look at the guy’s helmet. The black visor. The red stripe. This was Zeta squad’s own marksman, known as Langtoyet. Far Eye.

Dahl paused in his reloading as a new sound came to his ears. A familiar chopping that he’d been hearing in the background as the war raged on, further into the city. But now the chopping was closer, no longer a buzz.

He glanced up to spot the Pelikan helicopter coming in, soaring right past overhead before coming back around, settling over a nearby rooftop. Doors slid open, and ropes slithered out the sides as figures prepared to fast-rope down.

“Ah, shit!” he hissed, working the bolt as another 12.7mm round slammed through the brick wall he was behind, the round just passing a foot away. “What, you couldn’t do it alone so you decided to bring friends? Alright motherfucker, playtime’s fucking over.”

He swung out, bringing the first figure into his crosshairs as he squeezed the trigger.

-----------

The tunnels were pitch black, and unlike Astrid, Ulrik’s descent hadn’t gone unmatched. Revenant soldiers were already waiting for him, scores of them using the subway to make their way through the city to join the main battle without risk of being picked off by a sniper, drone or artillery shell. And the Knight seemed to have emerged in the center of the flow. When his gun had run out of ammunition, he had simply dropped it and the empty magazines, drawing his sword and surging into the fray.

Odin was watching him this day, it seemed, for his blade was covered in red and his armor was splattered. And there were now many corpses in these tunnels.

But as the hulk delivered a vicious cross to the Knight’s unprotected jaw, Ulrik wondered if perhaps Loki had cursed him with a little too much confidence.

Ermine slammed Ulrik against the wall of the tunnel, knocking the breath out of the Knight before slamming two more blows into his face. Both hulks were wearing so much body armor, body blows wouldn’t do much hear. Already, both of their visors had been torn away, and they sported broken noses and black eyes. But as Ermine went for another strike, Ulrik jerked his head to the side at the last minute, and the ex-con’s fist slammed into the stone behind him. Ulrik brought his knee up, slamming it into one of the few points that wasn’t covered by armor plating and shoving the hulk back before leaping forward, sword in hand.

No, he was wrong he realized as his blade was deflected by Ermene’s fighting knife. He was loved by the Gods. Why else would they send him such a warrior as this to fight?

-----------

Zeta Lead was hustling down the tunnel when he heard a burst of fire ahead. That was an MP9. And the short time meant someone was firing point blank, probably an execution. He pressed against the wall, pulling back on the action of his TR-93 before peering around the corner. A man in a Huskarl uniform, probably the last one left and Trotsbeck’s own personal bodyguard, stood over the corpse of Demoman. Probably just finished off that idiot. Damn.

Without even waiting or thinking, Zeta put the man in his crosshairs and pulled the trigger twice, the rifle barking and sending a pair of 6.5mm rounds towards the agent.


Halvo Bay

“Right flank, gods-dammit! This is Espot 2-4, they’ve broken through on the right flank!”

Like everything else in the military, there was an acronym (or in some cases catchname) for street fighting. Translated into English, that acronym was MOUT. Mobile Operations in Urban Terrain. While manuals held a lot of technical details, to the foot troops it meant close and personal, intense action and a lot more casualties than fighting in a forest or the open field. Some soldiers, even Azzie troopers, couldn’t take it and just froze up, freaked out, blacked out. Suicide were common after a cityfight. But no one gave them a hard time because even hardened veterans knew it could happen to them one day. The big reason Azzie troops still carried bayonets was because of the hard lessons taught by the face-to-face fighting of urban combat.

The defenders of Halvo Bay were certainly learning this lesson for themselves.

The 3rd Expeditionary stood practically alone next to the Steel Legionnaires that had stayed with them, and they couldn’t defend an entire city alone. This battle had already gone on longer than the fight for Lowell City had, but the sports arena and the area known as the Outer Residentials had already been lost, pushing them into the Canals District and Old Town. So far, they were holding as hard as they could, but given the sheer ferocity of the Revenant assault, it was a constant struggle just to establish fallback lines and get everyone in one place. Every hour, another block was given up. Artillery shells punished any Commonwealth group that moved, and the infantry in the streets were backed by their armor, gunships flying overhead. At this rate, the Halvo Bay Military Academy would be under threat in another day.

In all honesty, this was the closest that Oberst Elsa Ansson had ever felt to despair. While she’d seen some bad situations in her time, she’d always kept a level head. This time was different, however. Standing here in her command center in the Academy, she listened to the reports go from bad to worse. The Steel Legion had abandoned them here. Those Legionnaires who stood in the city’s defense were those who had defied orders or simply couldn’t get back to Schmeidesse before the enemy closed the vise.

Now she was expected to defend an entire city with a little over four thousand soldiers. Gods-damned impossible. Fortunately, when Lowell City had been hit Halvo Bay had started being evacuated to Tritonsberg so now, three weeks after the fall of the capital, Halvo was a ghost town. The 3rd was allowed to act with impunity, and they took generous advantage of that, booby-trapping whole streets and bringing down buildings to block avenues. In all honesty, they’d probably done just as much damage to the city as the enemy, but it was the biggest reason why Halvo Bay hadn’t fallen yet despite the overwhelming odds.

And now, her Stormtroopers were fighting in the streets for their very lives. The Canals District was on the verge of falling thanks to enemy gunship support, and Old Town was turning into a meat grinder for both sides. Ansson needed to do something different. Something to change the odds again. Because if Halvo Bay was lost, Tritonsberg was cut off from the rest of the country.

[New Edom]

To: Field Marshal Johan Svakke
CC: Foreign Minister Zattem Resbruck of the Shrailleeni Empire; Foreign Secretary Joseph Deol of the Republic of Adiron; CPO Foreign Ministers; UCA Foreign Ministry
From: James Quadratus, New Edomite Ambassador
Subject: Status of CPO Mission
Encryption: Moderate

---

Dear Marshal,

Thank you very much for your letter. In light of your words, I will recommend that the CPO mission continue. For the time being I recommend that the current positions held by already deployed CPO contingents act as our primary FOBs. I am instructed by the President of the Council to begin negotiating for routes of travel to other potential sites in order to be able to provide protection and resources to aid workers and refugee camps. We will continue to negotiate this between both parties.

I have the honour to be
James Quadratus,
Ambassador for the Allied States of New Edom

[Azurlavai]

Operation Open Season
Day 1

Though this strike had been a surprise, it wasn’t accurate to say the Revenant hadn’t prepared for this outcome. Being so close to enemy turf carried with it the realization that you may at some point face enemy action while they tried to push some safe breathing room. Still, the first units facing the Shalumites were caught flat-footed, and that meant they lost the initiative.

Lines of tanks rolled into the field to meet the coming northerner tanks. Older Sabertooth tanks, reliable Ambolt and Neshorns and the fearsome, infamous Mammut charged into the field, going forth to engage the enemy armor while the slower mechanized infantry came up to hold onto reclaimed areas. Those left in the posts manned the defensive posts, artillery booming while the MLRSs finally spat their payloads, and rocket artillery joined SAM missiles in lighting the sky on fire as ordnance smashed into the Shalumite line.

Down below, a small cluster of tanks were the first to clash with those from the north. Staff Sersjant Jan Kerzin was a 6th Division tanker, and had been more than happy to break away when the infamous defection occurred. The red flag had been proudly painted on his hull, and around him he commanded a small lance of Neshorns and Ambolts. Mammuts were scarce in Revenant lines, but the capture of Lowell City had given them more than enough parts to keep the fleet they had going.

“Enemy sighted!” the gunner hollered, and Kerzin squinted into his sights, adjusting the modern optics slightly. Indeed, there they were coming in over the horizon, almost beyond eyesight. The tanks around him probably hadn’t seen the vehicles, and he grunted as he checked with the other three Mammuts in his squadron. Green and good, so far as the comms panel said. The heavy tanks were here to provide real punch and take the hits while the lighter, older Neshorns skirted the flanks. He opened the channel on his radio.

“All Besril callsigns, execute plan Theta. I’m on point this time.”

Just like they’d practiced, the other tanks under his command swiftly broke line formation, pulling back to let the much sturdier MBT surge forward before they closed ranks again. Up and down the armored line, other formations were doing the same thing, letting the modern vehicles forward to take and deal the brunt of the damage.

“Enemy tanks are identified as Gladiator 2 models!” he called out to his crew, and he clicked on the targeting laser on his panel, highlighting the tank he was looking at. “Gunner, target enemy tank, 11 o’clock!”

“Identified!” the woman called out, leaning in and disengaging her safeties. The loader swiftly hauled the shot locker open, pulling out an anti-armor round and slamming it into the open breach, pulling the block closed and calling out “SABOT, up!”

“Fire!” Kerzin hollered.

“On the way!” the gunner replied, her fingers digging at the triggers. The vehicle rocked as, for a second, it slowed, the kickback enough to practically halt the massive armored vehicle before it kept moving on. Another second later, however, and the Mammut was slammed by another impact, this one decidedly hostile.

“Taking fire!” yelled the driver from his seat up front. “Grazing hit, no penetration!”

“Return fire!” Kezrin replied, switching to thermals to see through the smoke that was already filling the field. “Fire at will!”

All around him, the rest of the tanks did the same as well, a fusillade of cannon fire that immediately threw up a wall of smoke in front of the armor. By the time the infantry got there, the battlefield a mess, and the Revenant warriors dismounting had to charge across the open ground protected by their APCs, halftracks, IFVs and even sheltering behind some of the tanks. Missile and rocket troopers up front, they moved to confront whatever was coming at them. This was what they did, and it was a relief to finally fight someone other than their own people for once.




Jaeger Land Plot
Two Weeks Later

It was one of those rare days where the sky could be seen overhead, when the morning wasn’t overcast in Dhuria. The cabin was quiet and cold, the warmth of the swamp having yet to reach inside yet. In summer, nights were very chilling despite how hot the days could get.

Standing at the counter, Gus chewed on a strip of jerked meat, grunting at the taste. Good choice, with that hickory. Worth the long trek into drage territory to get it. At least they hadn’t run into one of those lizard bastards, just more wolverines. Little fuckers were everywhere these days.

Two frying pans sat on the stove, one frying strips of fish while the other made scrambled eggs. Swamp chickens were good eating, but Gus felt like surprising his housemate with something aside from red meat and poultry, and she’d been wanting to eat some of what they’d caught last week. So, he’d taken the catfish from the fridge, gutted it and deboned it, and now was the result. He also had some swamp tubers on the boil, potato like roots that would taste especially good with the seasoning they’d bought in town.

Well, he was almost done. Just a few minutes left. He turned away, wiping his hand off on his shirt as he strode from the kitchen, through the lounge and into the back room, where the gun shop was. Why she’d wanted to be set up in there, he had no idea, but he had a small bed for when he worked late nights, and now it was hers. He knocked on the door twice before pushing it open, realizing that, for once, she had decided to sleep in past sunrise.

“Rise and shine, Kat. Grub’s almost done.”

[Shalum]

Kastell Isolation

As their lips met for the first time, gently for the moment, Captain Hew felt his mind go blank; any thoughts or worries he may have been thinking lost to the sensation of Astrid's lips on his own. For him, the experience was almost exhilarating, as he hadn't felt any kind of touch even similar to a kiss in a number of months. While many in Bull Company opted to use each other, or the locals, as a means of blowing off some steam and recouping after a mission, Thomas had often opted out of such activities. That didn't mean that he had stayed celibate throughout the campaign either, but he hadn't made a habit of 'mingling' like others had.

Before he knew it though, Astrid was turning up the heat, letting go of his hands so that she could wrap her arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. He didn't protest in any way, allowing her to do as she pleased. It seemed like he had always been taller than her, albeit not by much, but now it felt as if he was having to tilt his head upward to kiss her, though he wasn't quite sure; and he didn't particularly care. In response, he wrapped a strong arm around her waist and pulled her tighter against his own on instinct, never breaking the kiss. For Thomas, this was rather outgoing on his end, considering he was normally known for being a bit on the shy side with many women.

He wasn't in the right mind to think of what was happening when Astrid took his hand, gently lifting it up until it touched her...bare chest. His eyes opened in surprise as she gasped, both apparently feeling the same way. His hands were extremely cold as it was, for no apparent reason, and he was quite sure that it was something she noticed. He gave her a small grin, which was quickly wiped off as she crashed her lips against his own once more while hooking a leg around him. He gave a throaty growl in reply, and pulled her a bit tighter against him.

Lowell City

"Astrid? Shit!" Thomas replied as he quickly lowered his weapon. He pointed his flashlight down a bit more so that he wouldn't blind her and quickly stepped toward her. She looked battered to put it bluntly, with a limp and an arm that was doing little more than dangling. He knew Gallagheriscens were tough, but not this tough. There was a good reason his people feared the state of Gallagher more than the rest of Azurlavai combined, and she was a prime example. His 'cool' soldier expression quickly turned to one of concern as his brown eyes looked over her, doing their best to not her injuries in the darkness.

His concern only grew as she leaned against the entrance. With the assistance of his flashlight, he saw that she was bleeding, from the forehead it seemed; crimson liquid forming a thin stream down her face. He briefly felt around in his pockets for something to could use to help, producing a clean handkerchief that he kept around for whatever it may have been useful for. He folded it up and stepped closer to her, gently dabbing at the stream of red. "Shit Astrid, how the hell are you even walking, much less wanting to fight in this shape?" he asked quietly. "And what do you mean by 'she?'"

The captain glanced over his shoulder, one gloved hand still on his MP61. He wasn't keen on finding out who had done this to her, because it was likely that he wouldn't do any better, assuming they came out of the explosion unhurt. He excelled at hand-to-hand and close quarter fighting, but it wasn't something he wanted to test. "Astrid...I'm not sure if it's safe to keep going with you like this. I think it's safe to assume you're concussed" he said quietly as he titled his head to look at her again. "And yeah...you were heading back toward the entrance."

-----

John showed little emotion as he finsihed the man off without protest, putting the majority of the clip in him for proper affect. He was dead, that much 117 was sure of, he would accept no less. The STG agent grunted and ejected his magazine, tossing it aside with the intent of sliding a fresh one in. As he reached down, he noticed a brief flash of movement. Without thinking he threw himself to the ground, behind whatever cover was available as his training dictated. It was a good choice.

A half-second later, bullets pierced the air where he had been standing only a few moments earlier. He let out a number of colorful curses in High Shalumite (a dead language only used within the noble court) as he recovered, pushing himself up. He pulled his MP9 close, which had landed not too far away from him, and slid a fresh magazine in. He glanced at the area where the burst had came, expecting another to come at any moment. Without fear he leaned out and fired off a quick burst. Let the games...continue.

Jaeger Land Plot

For the first time in her memory, Katrina Wolfe had decided to sleep in, the warmth of what covers she had simply too comfortable to abandon. To many in her homeland, there was nothing especially special about this, but to her it was practically heaven on earth. After so many tours in Azurlavai, it was rare that she got to stay in one place for more than 12 hours, much less get a good night's rest. And now she had nothing but time, and she planned to make the most of it.

In the last two weeks, her leg had improved, so much so that she finally was able to leave the house and go with Gus. She wasn't allowed to hunt, and she seriously wondered if she ever would, considering her skills were geared toward taking down men, not dropping big game. Her ACX was still lying around...somewhere. Truthfully she hadn't seen it in close to three weeks, but she doubted that he would have simply dumped it off.

This particular morning...she was having a rather odd dream. She was back outside near the crash site, the drage chasing her. It all went the same way until Gus got close and took her gun away. He tossed it to the side and got to work on subduing her. It only got more scandalous from there. Four weeks of isolation was getting to the former Shalumite captain, but she had to admit, there were worse men to fantasize about. He was rather attractive in a rugged sort of way.

She was startled awake as her door was opened and her name called. Her eyes shot open but she did not shoot up like in the movies. Instead she simply blinked quickly in surprise, yawning as she stretched out and sat up, subtly wiping her hand on the bed as she shot Gus a small, sleepy smile. "Morning" she said before she yawned again. "Huh...I guess I slept in" she commented as she threw the covers aside and slipped out of bed. "Thanks for making breakfast" she said as she stretched a bit more, before trekking barefoot across the floor toward her door, ready to follow him into the cabin.

[Ossoria]

Provisional Battle Fleet

"The enemy seems to be breaking action, My Lord," a radar officer reported.

Admiral Kirkpatrick didn't respond immediately, his eyes locked onto the main radar display as he watched the light codes of the enemy craft, represented in clusters due to the sheer number of them, reversing course and moving to withdraw. In one way he could understand his opponent's decision, after the sheer mass of firepower he had dropped on their heads, he couldn't rule out he wouldn't have withdrawn himself had the tables been turned. But what he didn't understand was the specific timing of their withdrawal; they had eaten his fleet's gunnery fire for several miles of open water and approached to within visual range before turning away. And even before they had endured that, they had watched their larger warships being obliterated before them by cruise missiles.

But even if it made little sense, Admiral Kirkpatrick wasn't about to complain about it.

"General message to the fleet," he said after a moment's contemplation, "All ships are directed to execute a 180-degree turn in sequence to starboard. Cease firing, but continue to update firing solutions on the targets. Direct Task Force 14 to rendezvous with the Flag, after which we will return to Tritonsberg to rearm, resupply and repair any damages to our air wings. The Nóra Price and PATRON 6 will assume DESRON 3's picket station until relieved. That is all."

Kirkpatrick's chief of staff looked incredulous. "With all due respect, my lord, we're just going to let them go?"

"As much as it pains me to do it, yes," was the terse reply. "Tritonsberg, and the majority of our Marines in-theater, is currently uncovered and unsupported by any allied warships. The only fleet assets in the area are submarines and a bunch of CPO featherweights. In addition, we need to replace the munitions we've expended rather than waste time chasing them down and pushing them into making a desperate attack. No, we'll let them go. This time, at least."

[New Edom]

Schmeidesse Industrial Port

The New Edomite senior commanders had all been meeting with local block leaders in what remained of the communities of the city. The Steel Legion and their followers had mostly pulled out; people who lacked vehicles, had unmovable dependents or were afraid to leave their property remained.

The outer districts, such as older housing and area where complete security could not be attained, have been abandoned. The Steel Legion had set up a chain link and barbed wire perimeter roughly two miles inside the city limits, stretching all the way around where the SL and police could keep 100% control. Areas like Old Town, Ferros Island and the Borough had all been left behind.

What General Barak had his commanders promise was that the locals would receive access to clean water from purification systems, would have regular shipments of food, clothing, batteries, and medicine, as well as access to doctors and nurses. However the city was large; they could by no means have combed the entirety yet, and so patrols were to continue to be armed, and only areas designated 'safe zones' which were entirely controlled and combed over by combat engineers and scouts were to be used as barracks and supply drop zones.

Locals were permitted to retain small arms, hand weapons in order to defend themselves, since the Division couldn't keep tabs on them at all times, but no heavy weapons or high explosives caches. Agreements for dealing with commerce and settling disputes were set up.

Junior officers, like Captain Zeldorinius and Lieutenant Weber had to patrol streets, do building by building searches, and cordon off areas while combat engineers searched out basements and sewer areas. They would do this section by section, and set up watch posts, barricades and checkpoints in order to establish control over the port first. They would also set up communications with the Steel Legion with the ultimate intent of moving further inland.

The outer ring of these checkpoints and watchposts was manned by the veteran regiments: the 14th Hussars and the 21st Lancers. The 31st and 32nd Mechanized Infantry were to handle control of the drop zones, organize the living quarters and maintain inner patrols, helping the support units with grunt work as well. In the midst of this was General Barak's HQ, a former business headquarters for a shipping agency, which was being cleaned out and readied for HQ and quarters for the general and his staff.

Admiral Shalmaneser arrived briefly by helicopter to inspect the situation, and looked around with disapproval. Barak said quietly, "Something troubling you?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, there is," said Prince Elijah Shalmaneser. "The delays. We should have been setting up four FOBs by now. Instead, we have barely begun setting up one. But we have to deal with it. It is our mission."

"I'll step up the pace," promised Barak.

"No," said Shalmaneser, "Do it properly. Whatever it takes. Make this area secure first. We must do this for a number of reasons. Not the least of which is that we must be clearly shown to these people to know what we are doing, after that debacle before. We must do it properly and professionally and without haste or fear. For the mission is on. Carry on, General."

"Sir," replied Barak, watching the tall, gloomy naval officer go back to his helicopter. He knew Shalmaneser was a brave man; twice in his career recently he had faced down and won his military goals against larger fleets--against several Norvenian task forces trying to interdict him, had faced down and defeated a larger Ralkovian submarine and surface combined task force in Tyrrhenia. He had faith in the man now. They had worked together several times before. His pessimism was a surface thing; in turth he complained only when he was starting to think of a solution to a problem. So Barak took him at his word and continued to organize the landing force to occupy the zone they had arrived in.

[The Shrailleeni Empire]

Schmeidesse, Rheinmetall State
Guttering Square

Schmeidesse contained no less than fifteen fully operated Shrailleeni Aid Camps, located at relatively even spacing throughout the city. Fortunately, these camps for the most part fell well within the perimeter set by the Steel Legion, and tended to localize around major industrial and residential areas. The leaders of these camps were extremely happy to coordinate with the New Edomites, the first real neutral peacekeepers present since the operation had begun. The questions given to the soldiers that they met were endless. Could they expect more food soon? Where medical supplies coming from the CPO? What had happened to the Shrailleeni peacekeepers? They were also more than happy to share their information regarding the situation in Schmeidesse, including the names and organization of local leadership.

---

It seemed to Tenya that the news from this nation grew worse and worse with each passing day. When she had arrived, fighting had been largely confined to the East. It had been bloody yes, and its toll on the people heavy indeed. But now things had slipped into the stuff of nightmares. The bombardments, the open battles in the streets. And all the while the people suffered more and more, as food and supplies of all kinds were eaten up to feed the growing and desperate factions eager to increase their armies. The Shrailleeni volunteers were strained to the breaking point, as for the first time rations had to be cut in order to feed all of the hungry and medicine rationed in order to care for the most life-threatening cases.

From the ground, it seemed like the entire country was falling apart. More and more people spoke of their own families instead of their state, their own state instead of their nation. The United Commonwealth seemed like a bad dream, ignored or whispered about in dark and hushed tones. It was clear to Tenya that if this war continued to spiral, many people far from the fighting would start to die in large numbers. Little wonder that states seceded, and people rioted in the streets.

Tenya still awaited a new influx of volunteers from the Home Islands. For the time being, despite the increasing desperateness of the population, she was moved to see what Raghnild intended for her humble self. She had mustered all of the volunteers that she could spare, five fellow Sisters of the Temple and a half-dozen Azurlav converts. She hoped that it would be enough to convince the people of the righteousness of the Enlightened Path against the anarchy of the Lokists, but in truth she also worried for their safety. It could well be a trap, and she did not want to put any more in harm's way than necessary. All present were well aware that they could die here, and had accepted that possibility.

The Shrailleeni priestess and her group looked quite out of place in the square. Their clothes were dirty from the grime of the city, but their bearing was upright, elegant, and graceful, and the clothes themselves were Temple robes which looked exotic compared to those of the general populace or their Azurlav followers. All of that, not counting the rarity of the diminutive, dark-skinned women walking among the tall white natives.

Tenya's eyes wandered over the armored vehicle, and over the Steel Legion soldiers manning it. She was no stranger to the effect of gas masks and goggles, she had been in the Shrailleeni Military in her youth. She looked them right in the goggles, humanizing them, not holding eye contact long enough to seem threatening while also acknowledging their authority. The Shrailleeni were not an unknown site in the city, and she had met with Steel Legion members before. She did not fear the soldiers, but she also steered somewhat clear of them.

She paused as she say Raghnild. The woman has heading to an alley, and her group was heavily armed. If it was a trap, then Tenya was leading her party right into it. She glanced at the Steel Legion soldiers. If things went wrong, they could be their only salvation.

It was with a deep breath that she followed Raghnild's group, hands folded into the sleeves of her robe, into the alley that the woman had indicated. She was choosing to trust their intentions, for good or for ill. Such was the Will of the Mother Goddess, who whispered but did not guide.

Tritonsberg, Alpha Beach

The Shrailleeni contingent had dug in well. Tritonsberg, at least the Southeast districts, were under supervision. Regular patrols were established, defensive positions reenforced, and a FOB had been moved from the beach to a centralized location near an abandoned office complex.

Battle Leader Varus Tillten was little happier with his current situation than he had been during the landing. Now the Shrailleeni contingent was fully unloaded, he had constant contact with the Adirans and with CPO command, but his force was stuck in Tritonsberg instead of doing their job. Creating a FOB was all well and good, but they were meant to spread out across the country, form defensive perimeters around refugee and aid camps, and in general provide support for the humanitarian mission. There were two Shrailleeni camps in Tritonsberg, and neither very large. Now it looked that without additional forces, the goal of nation-wide action would be impossible to reach.

But he had lodged his complaints with his own government. For the time being, there was little to do but wait and see what would happen next.

Lowell City

To: Field Marshal Johan Svakke
From: Ambassador Tressa Vallar, Shrailleeni Empire
Subject: Diplomatic Envoy
Encryption: Hand-delivered by Envoy

Field Marshal,

While violence is never to be commended, one recognizes that it is good to have the security to send messages in a safe and timely fashion.

In case you have not heard, the Shrailleeni Empire has recently learned the identity of those who so ruthlessly attacked the people of your nation. Her Enlightened Majesty the Mother Empress has seen proof that the perpetrators of this crime were the Imperium of Arbites. The Shrailleeni Empire has expressed its condemnation over this act, and has taken a strong position against the Imperium and its actions. We have ended our trade with them, and motioned for their removal from the CPO. Such actions cannot be permitted to pass by without justice, and we intend to see that they are not perpetrated again.

Furthermore, the Empire has been shocked and dismayed to learn of the deteriorating condition of the United Commonwealth government. While Shrailleen shall continue to hold its neutral stance, certain actions taken by the Commonwealth have vastly decreased the confidence of the Empire in the ability and legitimacy of the UCA's rule.

This situation has been one of great distress to the Mother Empress and to the Empire. Our commitment, as always, is first and foremost to the Azurlav people, whom we have embraced as Siblings and to whom the hearts of our nations cry out. It is no longer certain that the welfare of these people is best served by the rule of the United Commonwealth. This being the case, and in recognition of the reverse in policy which you have shown the CPO on behalf of your organization, and in recognition of your previous diplomatic conduct, Her Enlightened Majesty has seen fit to send to you a Diplomatic Envoy. This Envoy will act as the official representative of the Shrailleeni Empire to your person and to the organization which you represent, and as your diplomatic medium to myself and to the Mother Empress. It is the intention of the Mother Empress that this Envoy communicate with you on matters of joint international policy and concern, as well as to continue to facilitate smooth communication with the CPO.

Her Enlightened Majesty and myself look forward to our continued diplomatic contact, and to the continued honorable conduct of the Revenant.

With regards,

Ambassador Tressa Vallar

The appointed Shrailleeni envoy stood patiently as the Field Marshal read the message, having delivered it herself. Tallera Vayara was a junior diplomat to the Shrailleeni embassy in Azurlavai, but one of the few who had fought to stay when the war had taken a turn for the worse. She was fluent in the native language, and had a good grasp of native politics as well. She certainly knew that taking this job came with huge risks, but she was just the right combination of brave and naive to put her fear to the side for her Mother Empress and for her nation.

Physically she felt out of place among the Revenant soldiers, and in what was quite literally the middle of a war zone. She was a Railtic woman, mid-twenties, standing at just under five feet high with a wiry frame. Her skin was dark brown, unlike the pasty white that could be glimpsed around the necks of the uniforms around her, and had dark green eyes that contrasted to the pools of brown and gold that looked at her from behind masked eyes. Her hair was short for Shrailleen, cut at the neck, but it did little to blend her in. And while she was wearing a spare set of Imperial Guard combat armor, minus the helmet, she was unarmed save for the sword that hung all but uselessly at her waist.

She watched the Field Marshal finish the letter, waiting to see what his reaction would be. She expected to be well received, but there was always the possibility of surprise.

[Shalum]

Fast as the wind, the invasion has begun
Shaking the ground with the force of thousand guns
First in the line of fire, first into hostile land
Tanks leading the way, leading the way

Operation Open Season
Day 1

The Shalumite defensive line, where the majority of the artillery was gathered, had quickly become a mad house as enemy rounds fell upon the lines of M777s which were exposed unlike the guns in the hardened bunkers. Crew after crew were extinguished as enemy rounds fell upon them, and the guns destroyed beyond use, often taking their ammunition with them in violent explosions. Officers shouted at the crews to keep their guns firing and to show no fear, even though the enemy couldn't see them, the principle of the matter important. Many of the men wanted to be brave, but as they saw their battle-mates die around them, they hesitated for a moment before doing as they told; not seeing anything else to do but keep their weapons alive. Shell after shell arched through the air, the number of total impacts less than the second barrage, though it probably wasn't noticeable.

Meanwhile the first rocket artillery battery from the 118th Artillery Regiment had finished setting up shop, and now had their sights set on the Azzie positions in the distance. There were twelve Heiliger Blitz MRLS that made up the battery, outfitted with a number of missiles to tackle both land based and airborne targets. Some of the pieces had been outfitted with anti-air missile pods in-case the Republic decided to make their own attack runs, even though it was unlikely--better safe than sorry. The same principle applied to the crews equipped with missiles designed to hit enemy land targets. With friendly forces closing in (though they had been slowed by the enemy tanks forces), they had to choose their targets a lot more carefully.

Thirty-seconds later, the first roar of a rocket taking to the skies was heard, as a 220mm guided rocket with a thermobaric warhead took to the skies. It was quickly joined by another, and then another, and so on. The target was the enemy bunkers beyond the rigid tank formations. They preferred to waste their ammunition and rattle the enemy than rattle their kill their own men on accident. Each of these rockets were guided and of Commoner make, as was much of the mobile artillery present.

----

For a brief moment, all was silent in Darren's tank as the crew wondered what their initial volley would do to the enemy formation. Staring through his scope, the commander of the tank watched the result, a grin forming on his lips as he did so. The Revie Sabertooth went up in an explosion, the SABOT round punching through as hoped. "Enemy tank eliminated!" the gunner Danny shouted after a moment, the emotion in his voice unreadable; sounding like a mix of awe and genuine surprise. "Reloading!" he called out a moment late, the auto-loading mechanism already in the process of doing what it was designed to do.

A moment later, the radios came alive once more, reports of allied causalities being announced and orders dispatched. They were sticking to tighter, safer formations, as they were on unfamiliar ground and there was strength in numbers. Around them, friendly tanks were destroyed with impunity as the enemy Mammuts lit into them in turn. The older model Gladiator 2's were mostly from the late eighties to early nineties, and were more vulnerable than the newer variants like the 2S and 3S. They were acting as a supporting role to the newer variants, but were still in the line of fire, that much evident as they were some of the first to be destroyed.

There were calls to focus on the Mammuts, while others were told to handle the enemy tanks attempting to flank them. Commander Darren knew that his 3S was more qualified to handle the enemy Mammuts than any other of the allied tanks present, and for that reason he set his sights on the Revie heavy tank formation directly ahead of him. "Gunner, enemy tank identified, Mammut" Darren grunted as he looked through his periscope, letting the rangefinder do the hard part. "Gunner, target enemy tank!" he ordered. He let out a noise of surprise at the Gladiator 3S shook, the enemy managing to land a blow, though it didn't penetrate. "Ruddy hell, taking fire!" he barked.

"SABOT up!" Danny called back as he shifted in his seat, hand going to the trigger of the main gun. He had the Mammut in his sights. It wasn't the greatest angle, he had to admit, and he doubted that it would penetrate, but they would certainly feel it. "Firing!" he barked before depressing the trigger. The 120mm gun boomed, the Gladiator rocking.

In a Gladiator 2S nearby, the enemy soldiers and IFVs which were quickly approaching, did not go unnoticed. The commander swung his gun around to face the threat beyond the enemy formations. His HK121, which he could fire from where he sat, rattled out rounds which bounced off against the enemy armor. Meanwhile, his gunner loaded a HEAT instead of a SABOT, hoping that the explosive warhead would do better than the tank-penetrating round would. He didn't hesitate to pull the trigger.

----

Much like the Azzies, the Shalumite tanks had infantry and armored vehicles at their backs. Loaded with infantry were M95 Piranha APCs (Stryker) and Bison IFVs, the later of which was outfitted with 30mm auto-cannons. They were all painted with the Shalumite flag on them, the Jerusalem cross the centerpiece. To many of the vehicle operators, this invasion was like their own crusade, the cross a shining symbol of that. The Shalumites were a religious group, and it provided a small form of inspiration to the scared infantrymen. It wasn't hard to believe that there were a number of prayers being muttered as war waged around them like titans clashing.

All too soon though, it came time to dismount and face the enemy threat. Many of the soldiers had worried looks on their faces as they clambered out, cradling their weapons and doing their best to keep down and out of fire. They had a variety of weapons dispersed among them, from the ACX to MG3, not to mention heavier weapons like 40mm grenade launchers and even a few SMAWs. They did their best to keep behind their vehicles and fire from the side, while auto-cannons and heavy machine guns chattered away. To many of them, they had never fired their weapons outside of the range or during war games, and it showed as some flinched or ducked away without needing to.

The few among them who were combat tested did their best to stand firm, encouraging the others to keep together and to not waiver. They were fighting for their homeland, and the chance to bring peace to an oppressed people. 6.8mm rounds flew, grenades were launched, and Shalumite soldiers fell here and there as the battle intensified.

[Arbites]

Southern Passage

The micro-UAVs continued monitoring the southern Azurlavaian coastlines and waters, and were not disappointed. The AWACS caught a great deal of radio chatter, impossible to avoid with such a large force unless it was completely uncoordinated. Amphibious invasions were some of the most complex maneuvers in warfare, however, so this almost certainly was coordinated. When the analysts reported back, they found this Lost Legion possessed a navy that rivaled entire nations.

But not this nation.

Altinum was the Imperium's top priority, and for now was adopting a defensive posture. The airbase was suitable to keep fighter, EW, and AWACS in the skies constantly, and an attack helicopter squadron could hunt seaborne threats in the island's territorial waters. Probing farther were combat air patrols of modernized MiG-29s, each carrying at least two anti-ship missiles. At any given time two flights of 24 fighters each were prowling the Southern Passage.

The Imperial Navy only had a destroyer and submarine squadron with escorts. The Order Eidos had not been deceptive here; there were 4 destroyers, 2 attack submarines, and 1 cruise missile submarine.

Most of Task Force 13's strength was in the Vanguard. An armada of civilian vessels, many of them freighters. Crewed by men like Sam Addison. Addison knew he was a sinful man. When the Protectors saved him, they found him under the sway of the Ruinous Powers. He had been afflicted him, made him prefer the unnatural company of another man. His illness even deceived him into thinking he loved him.

At the time, he wept. He had been tormented by the last memory of him: reaching out to him one last time as the hood covered his eyes, hearing his name one last time. But now, it was all right. Eventually he learned he had only wept for himself. As he made his penance, he learned the severity of his crimes, and he wept for his soul. Now he was resolute in his purpose of redemption.

The surest means of redemption was service to the Emperor. With the heretics defiling his nation, his course was clear. However, his sins were grave. It would take great effort, or great sacrifice, to save himself. Addison and thousands of others sought similar redemption. Absolution of all their past sins. They would destroy some of this world's many evils, for their salvation in the next.

AWACS could get a very general idea of where the enemy was, and guide satellites to pinpoint them. Neither could really stop them, though. The Navy didn't have the numbers to deal with them on its own. Not without help. The Vanguard freighters would fire self-guided cruise missiles, undoubtedly revealing their positions. They were currently working on deploying a large number of RHIBs, like the one Addison was boarding, each with several hundred pounds of ANFO formed into shaped charges.