Chivalry [Earth II - Closed]

[Dalmasce]

The Kingdom of Dalmasca
Haira Township - 25 kilometers from the Birean Border
4:30 AM - January 3rd, 2012
Zaid El-Amin - Civilian

The village of Haira was a small place within the Kingdom, well established but small, only two hundred persons lived in the village, serviced by a volunteer fire-department and a small sheriff's department of exactly twenty-four men for its two hundred persons. Paved roads divided up the town along a main street that connected to the national highway that ran all the way to Rabanastre to the far north. An oasis in the deep desert. The facades of mud-brick structures dotted the road and varied in size and story, though they did not tend to go over three while the tallest building was the post office at five.

It was in one of the two story buildings just off the main street that Zaid El-Amin sat up in front of a computer screen, typing away eagerly on a keyboard. The computer took a second or less to respond before the text-based game that Zaid was playing responded which brought a smile to his youthful face. He sat back after a few more minutes of play, stretching his arms and standing to stretch his back and legs. He took a look at the digital clock on his computer and frowned, he hadn't realised it was so late. He sat back down for a moment to save his progress and log-out of the desktop he was on, leaving a blue screen with three images, portraits of himself, his mother and his sister.

Zaid rubbed at his eyes as he stepped away from the desk and moved through their humble, but decent home checking locks on the doors, more concerned of desert dwelling animals than men, once they were deemed to be secured he repeated the process with the few windows that were located across the first floor. Having finished this he retreated up a plain staircase and to the second level which featured five rooms that varied greatly. His mother's room was plain to the point of Spartan, the only decorative feature was a carpet, imported all the way from Persia the way she told it. The next room on the opposite side of the landing was his sister's room behind a door, it was brightly coloured it pinks and the walls hosted a horde of posters of musical groups, celebrities and her other interests. Beyond that was his room, decorated simply, a small desk held a collection of books including a copy of the Koran, though he was not very religious, his walls like his sisters were decorated with posters, though his were fewer and concentrated on pretty girls and rock bands over Disney Princesses.

Zaid approached his bed, removing his simple but comfortable cotton shirt and climbed in after throwing the sheet and rough blanket back. Slumber came quickly after that filled with vague dreams.

---

The Kingdom of Dalmasca
Haira Township - 25 kilometers from the Birean Border
5:00 AM - January 3rd, 2012

Half an hour and half the town away from Zaid El-Amin, Terrell Cowden of the Hairan Sheriff's Department was busy freezing in the early morning twilight. His patrol car was a few yards away, a welcome oasis of warmth and comfort. He was on the edge of the town, staring out into the bleak predawn of the desert, attentive and waiting for someone or something to happen and had been standing there since about 2:30 or so in the blackness of the small hours of the morning. As the sun was coming up he was beginning to worry slightly, they should have been here by now, he thought as he stamped his feet to keep warmer, blowing hot breath into his gloved hands.

Terrell didn't hear the shuffle behind him before he felt oddly colder and noticed he was falling, blackness reached up, clawing at his vision before everything went dark, a traitor's just reward. Behind him men, a lot of them, moved quickly and quietly from a convoy of trucks, plain and unmarked. The nearest houses were twenty to thirty yards away, which they made for at a silent run, in the background their compatriots kept the trucks running; they varied in how but every man was armed. What happened next was fast and horrible. They spread out over the town in silent teams, crossing avenues quickly and by alleys, ten men at least seized the sheriff's department while others went door to door in teams, kicking them and dragging out occupants by force.

What followed after was macabre as it was brutal, the men and boys were shot enmasse and kicked into the dirt while the women were rounded up like livestock and carted off to the waiting trucks at gun point, there was little resistance for fear of what would follow, and majority went along with it for fear of their lives. This process repeated throughout the town well into the next hour, by seven o'clock most of the people had been either killed or gathered up, the process ended there, with the armed men retreating to their trucks and pulling away, off into the desert with a bounty of well over fifty Dalmascan women and girls, leaving a pile of bodies in their wake.

---

The Kingdom of Dalmasca
Haira Township - 25 kilometers from the Birean Border
7:30 AM - January 3rd, 2012
Zaid El-Amin - Civilian

Ragged, tired and bleary eyed he remembered being forced from his bed at gunpoint, he recalled a sharp pain in his lower torso, not quite his stomach but below his ribs, after that he remembered coughing up blood, a fair amount of it and passing out. How he came to be awake again was beyond him, surely he should have moved onto Jahannam by now. He tried to stand when he noticed a great pressure on his legs, he dared to look down and beheld the body of a dead man draped across him, he would have screamed if he had the energy, but he did not. Weakly and with an almost alien approach to his own skin Zaid heaved with what little might he had to remove the body from his legs before he with equal weakness and carried mostly by conviction and the want to survive crawled out from his position. He didn't try to call for help, for some reason the bodies told him there was none to be had.

"Not how I imagined myself dying." The thought came whimsically to his mind, which is when he learned it hurt to smile. After he left the bodies behind him and on his hands made his way to a wall to lean against he looked over the extent of his injuries, he was bleeding from just above his stomach, though as he could breathe without pain he deduced he had not been shot in the lungs, and as he could move it did not hit his spine. "I'm alive." He spoke, the words were weak and soft but he was glad that he could.

Zaid put a hand on the wall behind him and pulled upward, slowly coming to a wavering stand he applied a pressured grip to his center, preventing his wound from bleeding overly heavily and with one careful step at a time made his way into the building most directly behind him, the post office. Inside he collapsed into a chair and made for the telephone, dialing an extension that connected him to the national emergency line he called with a rather feeble voice the nearest thing he could think of, Agwanit Army Base. Zaid El-Amin died from blood loss before the line was picked up, though it was not a call ignored.

[Dalmasce]

The Kingdom of Dalmasca
Agwanit Army Base - 15 kilometers from the Birean Border
8:00 AM - January 3rd, 2012
Lieutenant General Ibrahim Muhammad Bousaid

The Town of Agwanit had in the mid 1980s been re-appropriated to the Crown for use by the Royal Military, its persons relocated peaceably to greener pastures with a comfortable sum for their heartache at having to abandon their homes. Over the course of the years that followed the town was radically transformed, all traces of its civilian past were essentially razed to memory and in place of the town came a sprawling squared acreage of electrified fences, sandbag barriers and machine-gun laden perimeter guard towers. A frightening site from what had once been a sleeping settlement of just under five hundred souls it now houses forty thousand fighting men at arms of the III Corps of His Majesty's Army, one of the largest detachments of armed men in the country in a series of imposing barracks houses, vehicle depots and logistical structures dedicated to the support of military operations. It was to this base of men and steel that Haira's call for help came, the township itself was half a day's hard ride by horse and six hours by non-stop vehicle from the base to the south-west, close to the border but not as close as Agwanit itself was, which was the last bastion of Dalmascan civilization before entering the oppressive Hells of the Birean Empire's territory.

The Commander of this conglomerate of steel and flesh was General Ibrahim Muhammad Bousaid, a man well into his forties with thinning gray hair and an expertly pressed uniform a skill with canned starch learned over many years, no doubt. Every day General Bousaid woke and slept on the same thought without failing, that one day, be it that day, the next or a hundred years later, they would become the front-line of a Birean invasion of Dalmasca. Just as those generals who came before him during the Moroccan War had prepared for in the 1910s against Morocco, he too prepared for against Birea, the ever present fear that today was the day that the world ended. It so happened that this great instinct was partially correct.

His generals-aide, a warrant officer named Giles Newton entered his 'office' if it could be called that in the central administration building of the base with a respectful salute. "Sir, strangest thing in from Haira, township some seventy kilometers southwest." This got the General's attention, who looked up from the papers he was skimming over regarding logistical trains. "A call came up on an emergency channel at 730 hours, there was no one on the other end talking, shallow breaths, sir, the kind a dying man breathes." The Warrant Officer continued with expectantly the utmost seriousness. "After a few minutes that ceased and the line went quiet, not dead sir, silent. This maybe slanderous of me sir, but I believe Haira was attacked. We've been calling down there since, the lads who've family there, even the local sheriff, no answers at all, would it be impenitent to send a patrol down, just to check on things?"

"Not at all." General Bousaid finally broke his silence with an even response, a deep frown on his face, worry gnawing at the back of his mind. "Have Colonel Reed assign a section of men to go down to Haira and see why they're so quiet." He continued, Newton saluted and went to deliver the General's message. In the end of it, the men of the 2nd Platoon of the 4th Infantry Division's 8th Regiment were pulled up for the duty. Colonel Reed himself assured that, for the sake of decency in case there truly had been an attack down there, none of the men were from Haira or the townships around it.

---

The Kingdom of Dalmasca
Haira Township - 25 kilometers from the Birean Border
2:00 PM - January 3rd, 2012
Warrant Officer Gary Reeve - Royal Dalmascan Army

Six hours in the cramped quarters of a transport truck was not the ideal way to spend a day in the opinion of Warrant Officer Reeve, who sat towards the rear of said truck, the harsh winter desert air brushing across his face, keeping him awake with the coldness of the breeze. Inside with him were fourteen other fighting men ranking from buck private to staff sergeant, ranging in age from fresh into manhood at sixteen to the grizzled 'old' sergeant at thirty one. None of them had seen war outside of simulations, which were not at all a replacement for the real horror that conflict was. "Coming up on the outskirts now sir, I see smoke, make ready." The voice came up from the front through a slot in the wall of the truck's cabin belonging to Private First Class, Sulaiman Zaman as the trucks pulled up to a stop along the side of the Kingsroad. "Lads, form up into groups of four men, fan out and cover the entering roadway easy like, we're down here expecting trouble so safeties off and godspeed." These words came from Staff Sergeant Mirza Saab, probably the oldest man present at nearly forty belonging to the second squad, no one disagreed, the man was wise and considered well worth his weight in salt.

Reeve took his unit, a fireteam of four including himself down the main road into the town while the other teams spread out, he didn't like this, having to approach one of his peoples' own settlements as though he was entering an enemy trench, a crawling feeling crept up the base of his spine as they moved up the street. "No movement. Some kind of debris in the road further up." Corporal Salim Bousaid, the General's third cousin, said as they advanced, every man noticed the same disturbing repetition, every door and entrance way was bashed open nearly without fail.

"That's not debris..." Private Kader Ajam spoke barely a whisper but they heard the man well through his squad radio. The four man fireteam stopped moving, the other private and only woman in the platoon Afra El-Hashem who had the sharpest pair of eyes among them and was one of the designated marksmen of the unit raised her rifle to her eye and immediately regretted it, being regaled with the image of body upon body broken and dead in the streets, the rifle clattered from her hands as she heaved over at the waist, vomiting profusely into the street. Elsewhere there were a few similar responses from the other fireteams that made up the platoon before the unit snapped to alertness and took on the audacious task of clearing the town one building at a time, though first the radioman called in the macabre slaughter, with repeated uncomfortable confirmation...

---

The Kingdom of Dalmasca
Rabanastre - 6:00 PM
January 3rd, 2012

The youthful face of Dalmasca's Queen was ashen and grey as the messenger told her and her Prime Minister, Donald Edison, distant descendant of the very same Layartebian famous inventor, Thomas Edison, what it was that the Royal Army had found in the little town of Haira several hours before. Lynette Godwinsdaughter frankly looked ill as the information was dolled out, while Donald, a fifty-six year old professional statesmen with increasingly less hair as the years passed just looked on with a blank expression. "Children of God? Al-Shams?" Donald uttered, while neither group had ever been confirmed to operate in Dalmasca, it was not outside the realm of possibility that eventually they would strike.

"We do not believe so, Honorable Minister. What is most disturbing is that the soldiers only found the bodies of men, sir. There were no women among the executed, or anywhere in or around the town for tens of miles in any direction." The messenger continued, which brought a dark look into Edison's eyes. It was a known rumor that the Birean Empire had despite its stability and power in the region long been suspected of 'wife-napping' and human trafficking in foreign womenfolk due to their 'cultural preference' for men and their shortage of women in recent decades. That rumor brought a deep frown to Edison's face, and the ashen face of the Queen as she likewise took to understanding what was being inferred silently.

"You may go." Her Majesty uttered simply, the messenger nodded and bowed out before the Monarch and Prime Minister took a long hard look at one another. "Summon Parliament." Lynette managed to say weakly before she stood weakly, the Prime Minister out of instinct went to support her before she waved him off and bade her courtiers and foreign diplomats who lingered about the room at various points and had heard the event transpire to get out before leaving the room herself. The 'Fragile Rose' as the nobility called her behind her back made her way to her chambers where she sank on the opposite side of the closed door, legs finally giving out and breaking down and quietly sobbing. Though she didn't know a single person who lived in Haira, it was her job, her sacred duty to keep them safe, and she'd failed in that, a cord that struck her as deeply as it hurt her.

[Terra Reborn]

Dame Jennifer Nielson DCG
Imperial Embassy to the Kingdom of Dalmasca
El Aaiún, The Kingdom of Dalmasca
Tuesday 3rd January 2012, 2100hrs Local Time (1200hrs Imperial Capital Time, 2100hrs Zulu Time)

The Imperial Diplomatic Mission to the Kingdom of Dalmasca was one of the mid-level assignments in the Imperial Diplomatic Service. It was not as prestigious as the highest level missions, primarily to the Empire’s closest allies (the Empire of Layarteb and the Realm of Cotland), but it was generally rated highly, which was assigned for regional and/or economic powers. The Kingdom of Dalmasca was considered generally quite important for the Empire, there were plenty of Imperial economic interests in the region, particularly on the part of the Imperial East India Company, and not to mention the presence of the Imperial Enclave of Tangier-Tétouan, the matching part of the enclave at Gibraltar, that allowed the Apilonian Empire substantial control over the Straits of Gibraltar, should it choose to do so, although it’d only ever do that in wartime, or very selectively. Thus Dalmasca was considered a very important partner in the region, and relations were good at the moment, and the Imperial Ambassador was well aware of the regional important of the Kingdom to the Empire.

The Imperial Ambassador to the Kingdom of Dalmasca was Dame Jennifer Nielson DCG. A career diplomat she had served in numerous positions all over the world, from the smallest Consulate in the least important nation in the world to the Deputy Chief of Mission to the Empire of Layarteb. She was one of the Diplomatic Service’s rising stars, comparatively young still, ambitious, experienced and capable, a future in politics (most likely fast-tracked to the Foreign Office) was by no means out of the question in the long run. She had served as the Ambassador to Dalmasca for six months now and considered herself fairly up to speed on the state of affairs, as well as the Empire’s relationship to the Kingdom. In the long term she was tasked with strengthening the Empire’s relationship with the Kingdom, through closer trade ties at the least, but with no real ceiling on what could be possible. After all, there were no real political considerations that would impact relations with the Kingdom, no conflicting interest in the region, by all accounts the Kingdom was doing very well at keeping itself out of any disadvantageous foreign entanglements, and Dame Jennifer was determined to make sure that the Kingdom’s relationship with the Empire didn’t fall into that category, she would much rather that there were many happy days in the Empire’s relationship with the Kingdom

Unfortunately today was not a happy day.

Reports had been flooding in all day, and Imperial Intelligence had been working furiously to find out what on Earth had happened. And it was for that purpose that the senior staff of the Embassy were gathering in the conference room so late at night, to discuss exactly what Imperial Intelligence believed to have happened. Dame Jennifer settled heavily into her seat at the head of the table, if even half the rumours were true then this was a horrific situation that sickened her to the core. She nodded down the table at James Kincaid.

Officially Mr. James Kincaid was the Cultural Attaché, he possessed full Diplomatic Immunity and had various official engagements to attend and a full staff. Unofficially he was the MI6 Station Chief, heading up a small intelligence team that managed to gathering of intelligence in Dalmasca, through their own covers, through NOCs and through informants. But the relationship between the Empire and the Kingdom was good enough that it was not really a serious effort, indeed it was the Deputy Station Chief that was the ‘Known Spy’ to the Kingdom’s Internal Security agency, the vital point of contact between the Intelligence Services of two friendly Governments. Such was the nature of things, and although she tried to distance herself from that side of things, Jennifer knew enough to know that she’d much prefer a friendly and amicable working relationship, than those found in more hostile countries. Besides, it was entirely possible that good working relationship would be even more essential in light of what had seemingly occurred.

Kincaid stood up and moved to the electronic display at the other end of the table.

“Good Evening everyone… now I’m sure that most of you have already heard a lot of the rumours flying around about what has happened today so let me just fill you in on the facts,” Kincaid said simply. “At approximately 0730hrs Local Time the GCHQ (Government Communications Headquarters) listening station at Europa Point intercepted a phone call from the Haira Township, that’s approximately twenty-five miles from the southern border of the Kingdom, to the local Army Garrison.”

“The content of that message?” Special Agent John Kelso, of the Diplomatic Security Group of the Imperial Security Agency, asked with a frown.

Special Agent Kelso was the Regional Security Officer. This meant that he was responsible for the security of the diplomatic mission, is employees from the Ambassador downwards as well as the protection of the Empire’s secrets that might be in the Embassy. He exercised supervision over the detachment of Imperial Marines, other DSG agents and any other law enforcement personnel assigned to the embassy. In addition he was the Security Attaché, and the primary point of contact with local law enforcement.

“That’s just it, there was nothing, just the sound of breathing… strained breathing, like those of a dying man, we believe the man then expired because the line went silent, it was curious to say the least,” Kincaid replied. “Clearly the Dalmascan Army thought so as well, as they dispatched a search team to investigate, which confirmed the reports of a massacre.”

“Anything on the details?” Jennifer said uncomfortably.

“Just what was reported in the Dalmascan Throne Room a few hours ago, from what we can gather it looks like the men and boys were executed, whilst by all accounts the women and girls were captured and taken away,” Kincaid replied. “As a result, and given the closeness to the Birean frontier, the current working theory is that they were specifically kidnapped by a group of any of the seven billion or so Birean men without available spouses.”

Jennifer grimaced. It was well known that the domestic policies of the Birean ‘Empire’, such as it was, had resulted in there being a massive gender imbalance that left millions of men without women to marry. This was only exacerbated by their preference for multiple wives. As a woman this disgusted Jennifer, the entire concept was repulsive but the likelihood that women were seen as little more than property was by far the worst, especially as she liked to think that most of the world had moved beyond such barbarism. But part of her wasn’t surprised that they had resorted to this. Indeed it was entirely possible that this had been going on for some time in the other territories around the Birean ‘Empire’, but they were only hearing of it now because it had hit the developed Kingdom of Dalmasca. She knew that King Walker would feel the same, she had met him before of course, but their longest conversation by far had actually been at a conference on women’s rights in the military, the King’s presence at which had been credited with the long-overdue decision to allow women to serve in all frontline combat roles.

“So we’re looking at the very real possibility that the Birean Empire, or at least elements within it, have invaded the Kingdom, murdered its menfolk and kidnapped its women,” Jennifer said heavily. “There is no way that such a blatant attack would have occurred without at least some knowledge in the Empires government… this could escalate, quickly.”

“Agreed, Madam Ambassador,” Kincaid replied grimly.

“Alright, so what do we do about this?” Jennifer queried. “Kelso?”

“From a security standpoint I’d strongly recommend putting out a travel advisory for the southern parts of the country, but hold off on it until it becomes reported news, we don’t want to start a panic,” Kelso replied. “In the long run we’ll want to look at a general travel advisory, especially if this escalates as you fear… we’ll want to get in contact with Dalmascan law enforcement to account for our people, or get me and my people permission to carry our weapons outside of the Embassy to recover anyone who is not accounted for.”

“Agreed, I want you to get started on that, our first priority is to safeguard our own citizens,” Jennifer nodded. “However, I doubt that will be our only response… I need to discuss the matter with the King.”

“We should probably make some sort of statement at this point,” James Cutler, the Deputy Chief of Mission, commented thoughtfully. “And if the King responds as I expect he shall, you’ll probably want an Audience with the Queen.”

Jennifer nodded.

“Okay, I want us to make a formal statement of our sympathy for what has occurred, totally condemning both the cold blooded murder of the men and boys, as well as the kidnapping of the women,” Jennifer instructed firmly. “Please also advice Her Majesty’s Government that I’d appreciate an Audience with Her Majesty at her earliest convenience.”

[Layarteb]

January 3, 2012 - 16:00 hrs [UTC-5]
Layarteb City, New York
Fortress of Comhghall
(40° 41' 28" N, 74° 0' 58" W)

The Emperor had been informed of a potentially catastrophic event in the Kingdom of Dalmasca but there were little details and he knew that it was not something to involve the government, or else it would have been plastered all over the news. While the Layartebian embassy, and by proxy the Ministry of Intelligence's agents, attempted to get all of the details concerning this "catastrophic event," the Emperor paid close attention to the cable news networks of the world. All was quiet until about 16:00 when nearly every channel flashed to Breaking News. Entertaining a senior diplomat from the Amapánese government, the Emperor cut their conversation short and unmuted the television. "We have unconfirmed and sketchy reports of a major, terrorist attack in the Kingdom of Dalmasca. We're going live to Sara Thies in Rabanastre. Sara, can you hear me?"

"Yes I have you Shepherd," said a very attractive but very blonde and very thin reporter. It was night in Rabanastre and so the background was of the city's glowing lights of night. She had a microphone in her hand and to full effect with the Layartebian News Network the word "LIVE" was in the upper right hand corner in bold, red text. "We have unconfirmed reports that a small town near the Birean border was attacked by terrorists earlier this morning. We have not heard any official statement from the government yet but we have been told by anonymous sources within the Dalmascan government that the entire town's populace of men was killed and that its women were kidnapped Shepherd."

"Kidnapped?"

"Yes, you heard right. The entire town's populace of women were kidnapped."

"Did these individuals say who might be to blame?"

"No they did not but we can suspect, being that close to the Birean border, and given the human rights violations of the Bireans, that it was the work of bandits or outlaws from Birea."

"Is there a name of this town?"

"Yes Shepherd, we're told it's the town of Haira, approximately twenty-five kilometers or fifteen miles from the Birean border. No word yet on the number of casualties but military officials are on scene I am told."

"All right Sara, please keep us informed."

"Will do Shepherd." With that, the camera cut back to the studio and the Emperor put the television back on mute.

Shaking his head, he turned to the Amapánese diplomat and said, "Reminds you of the Achesian problems, doesn't it?"

"It does. The Achesians dealt with the matter strongly but not strongly enough. The Dalmascans ought to know that softness in these times won't solve the crisis."

"No it won't. I apologize that I'll have to cut this short. We're set for breakfast tomorrow where we can formally discuss the matters appertaining to the continued defense of Amapánese territory. For now, I will have to confer an emergency session with my National Security Council about this matter."

"Yes sir." They shook hands and the Emperor saw his guest out before telling his receptionist to get the National Security Council on the line, an emergency session would be held in ninety minutes.

In the meantime, the Emperor placed a phone call to Queen Lynette Godwinsdaughter and though he was only able to get her secretary, he left a message, pledging Layartebian support. In parting he said, "You'll inform Her Majesty that the Empire's moral support is one thing but in times such as these, moral support only goes so far. At that point, no request is out of line."

Later that evening, after the National Security Council had departed and the sun had set over Layarteb City, the Imperial Layartebian Military was making its preparatory motions. The 3rd Carrier Battle Group (Enterprise) was on station in the North Atlantic Ocean transiting near the Azores and while it wasn't going to immediately depart for the African coastline without some sort of communication from the Dalmascans, it could be there in seventy-two hours if it were necessary. Other assets could be there just as fast too. The concept of kidnapping women wasn't new to the Empire of Layarteb. In recent times, the Achesians had been going back and forth with smugglers and traffickers who were siphoning off the women of Brazil and shipping them all over the world to be used as sex slaves. The Empire had limited reach there, mainly because the Achesians were leading the way and though they dealt with smugglers and traffickers with a heavy hand; their overall approach was a bit on the soft side. Perhaps, in their situation, there was no alternative, they weren't going to rip up their countryside. But Birea wasn't the Kingdom of Dalmasca, it was a different nation, one which the Empire had few relations with, for obvious reasons.

Surely, there would be an international outcry. Even the enemies of nations didn't want to see this sort of thing happen. Birea was a thorn in the side of West Africa and if they were truly responsible, and the government did nothing to rectify it, then that would be all the casus belli that the world needed. Unfortunately, Birea wasn't a slouch of a nation. They had a powerful, capable, integrated, and professional military. They had a stable and cohesive political system. They had determination and they had willpower and all of that combined meant that a single battle group from the Empire of Layarteb, no matter how many planes it carried, wasn't going to be enough to get the Dalmascan women and their piece of mind back from the depths.

[Khorsun]

Valorsa Trakhun, Foreign Minister of Khorsun
The Ankhazar's Citadel
Verela, Khorsun
Tuesday, January 3, 2012, 2100hrs Local Time

"Cross-border raid. Town destroyed. Scores of Dalmascene women taken to be sold as Birean wives. Scores of Dalmascene men left dead. Dalmascene military arrives on scene, impotently late," said the Khorsuni Ankhazar, speaking to his foreign minister from behind a leopard skin fur coat and the red aviators Valorsa swore he must wear even to sleep.

"Terrible," she said solemnly, all too familiar with scenes like this one, which she had witnessed again and again in the bitter Khorsuni War of Independence. "They deserve our immediate support and sympathy."

"Terrible," echoed Taneltar. "The Bireans utterly complicit, of course." Birean rapaciousness came as no news to the Khorsuni, who had shared a border with them since their war of independence had ended five years before. During the latter stages of that war, when the fighting had turned from the corrupt Republic of West Africa regime in the south to the Islamist enemy in Burkina Faso, the Bireans had openly provided the jihadists with volunteers and weapons.

Khorsun had defeated the jihadist foe, but Birea had remained a hostile and threatening power. From 2007 to 2010, Khorsun had endured cross-border raids like the one the Dalmascenes had just suffered. That the Birean military had condoned these raids was obvious; it was powerful and ruthless enough to put a stop to them, if it wanted to. In fact, many of the raiders were themselves off-duty Birean soldiers.

Khorsun had put up with these raids in the years before its armed forces had been fully built, retaliating only with low key, tit-for-tat raids of its own. However it was not long before Khorsun had assembled a war machine capable of standing against the Birean military toe-to-toe. This remarkably rapid buildup had been fueled by a number of factors. The Hirgizstani military had left behind a massive amount of legacy materiel and equipment, much of which the Khorsunis were able to salvage for themselves. They had also left behind a substantial military industry; the Khorsunis had managed to refurbish many of the old factories and get their production lines running again. Tens of thousands of former military personnel from the collapsing Kreynorian Empire had been invited to Khorsun and set up with roles in training the military and operating its advanced equipment. And the development of the Khorsuni-Hi No Moton military alliance had blessed the Khorsunis with billions of dollars' worth of military assistance for further training and for importing weapons from the Union of Sovereign Slavic Republics and other foreign sources.

All this had been capped off with Khorsun's attainment of nuclear weapons capabilities in 2010, thanks to facilities left behind by the Hirgizstanis and the work of both imported Kreynorian scientists as well as kidnapped ex-Hirgiz nuclear experts. Khorsun going nuclear had put an end to the cross-border raids; the heavily armed and WMD-backed Khorsuni and Birean militaries since then had maintained a tense standoff on a heavily militarized border, their governments resorting to internally subverting one another by supporting various rebel groups.

"The Lohartabata and the Apayalata have already offered their support to Dalmasca," the Ankhazar went on, referring to Khorsun's other bitter rivals, the October Alliance powers. Both of these empires viewed Khorsun as a grave threat to New African Republic, and thus the world economy. In just a few short years, the Khorsunis had already built up a military strong enough to challenge the NAR's, which was in truth little more than a national police force. Khorsun's irredentist claims and coveting of Nigeria's oilfields had already generated a great deal of friction with her much larger and wealthier neighbor. Now they were backed with the threats kf a small nuclear arsenal as well as an ongoing ballistic missile development program that was only months away from yielding Khorsun with IRBMs that could target cities across half of Africa.

"Then we need to do the same," Valorsa replied. Building relations with the Dalmascene kingdom had been one of her foremost goals as minister of foreign policy. Khorsuni intelligence had been warning of the October Alliance's intentions to set down roots in West Africa, establishing themselves somewhere in the chaotic arc spanning from Liberia to Senegal, where their military bases could contain Khorsun's growing power and ambitions. An alliance with the Dalmascenes was sought as the beginning of an anti-imperialist bloc to keep the October Alliance from re-establishing its former domain over North Africa, which had been lost with the fall of the Hirgizstani Commonwealth.

"No, we need to do more," the Ankhazar replied. "We need to show them that Khorsun is a better friend to have than Layarteb and Apilonia. We do not have the wealth or global power of either of those two empires, but what we can show them is that Dalmasce ranks much higher in our national interest than in either of theirs'. That we will go out of the way to help them more than the October Alliance would."

Valorsa nodded her agreement, unsurprised by the Ankhazar's habitual opportunism. The man was sharp of mind but cold-hearted. "How much can I offer them? How far are we willing to go?" she asked, starting to piece together plans of her own.

"To total war, if necessary," Taneltar answered. "The military is going to be put on high alert. The threat of force is the only tool the Bireans respond to, and the use of force is the only thing that will get these women back from their slavery. The Dalmascenes will have to fight for the honor of their women. Unfortunately, they are badly outmatched on their own. Let the Dalmascenes know that they will have the full and unconditional backing of Khorsun in a war with Birea, and that we will guarantee them victory."

"Right away, Ankhazar," Valorsa replied, taking leave to compose her message.

Soon after, the Dalmascene foreign minister received a phone call from Valorsa Trakhun with a message for Queen Lynette:

"On behalf of the Khorsuni Nation I offer my prayers for the safety and return of the women and that justice be done to the brigands who abducted them and murdered their husbands and sons. We understand your plight, being a fellow neighbor of the Birean empire and having suffered these same kind of depredations at their hands in the past.

In our eyes, this attack stands as an act of war of against the Dalmascene kingdom, and against the Khorsuni Nation as well. The women of all nations at Birea's borders are at risk of this savagery; therefore these nations must all stand as one against the Bireans.

Unfortunately, we have little confidence in negotiations with the Bireans. Diplomacy has gotten nowhere in the past with them; the only thing they respect is power, and as far as they see, your kingdom is weak.

It is Khorsun's belief that you should challenge that misconception. Fight back and show them that your kingdom, though small, has the power to be reckoned with. You will have Khorsun's full backing to ensure you are strong enough to prevail.

As of right now, the Khorsuni military is mobilizing its armed forces and initiating a mass buildup along the Birean border. This buildup will tie down a large portion of the Birean Army well away from your own borders with them. Khorsun will provide a discount out of its own pocket on munitions to keep your own armed forces resupplied. We will have heavy equipment and weaponry of all kinds ready to lend-lease to Dalmasca; tanks, artillery, rockets, air defenses, whatever is necessary. Any sort of military expertise needed, we will have advisors from our own forces ready to lend you. We have a volunteer group from our Army aviation forces ready to fly their jets under the Dalmascene banner. Khorsuni doctors and medical supplies will be yours as well. Our intelligence assets in Birea will pass all intel onto you.

We believe that a sharp, limited war will be the best way to get your hostages back and end the threat to your kingdom. Defeat the brigands and humiliate them in one lightning campaign, and they will recognize that Dalmasca cannot be bullied and violated at will.

And know that if the Bireans do not get the message, if they escalate the matter and retaliate with a full scale war on you, then they will be declaring war upon us as well. And if the Bireans give any hint of using their weapons of mass destruction - chemical or nuclear - to deter your operation or to attack your kingdom, Khorsun will make clear to them the consequences. Dalmasce may not be a nuclear power, but Khorsun is - and we will not hesitate to use them against Birea if Birea threatens Dalmasce with them.

You are under Khorsun's nuclear shield from here on out. And we will stand by you absolutely if it comes to war - which we believe will unfortunately be necessary for the safety and justice of your women. Consider us your firm and unbreakable allies."

[Layarteb]

January 4, 2012 - 10:00 hrs [UTC-5]
Layarteb City, New York
Fortress of Comhghall
(40° 41' 28" N, 74° 0' 58" W)

Route Pack System

Everyone took their seat as the Emperor sat down at the conference table in his office. Various individuals with the Ministry of Defense, the Ministry of Intelligence, and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs were present. This was to be a quick but crucial briefing in the military capabilities of the Birean Empire, which promised a rather extensive understanding of their capabilities.

Leading the briefing, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs waited for the Emperor to give a brief synopsis of why they were meeting before he began. "Sir, we have been collecting information on the Birean Empire for some time now. At present, their military rates very highly. They have top-of-the-line equipment, a dedicated and professional fighting force, competent officers, and a proper training regimen. They are not in any way, shape, or form, a pushover state.

"Let's start from the ground up, shall we?" He said as the lights were dimmed and the video screen was switched to show various slides. "Their infantry and land forces are equipped with modern assault weapons and current tanks, T-80U and T-90SM variants being the most prevalent. They are well maintained and they are supported by Soviet-style doctrines. Their entire military, I should note, is of Soviet origin. Their training, their tactics, and their resolve was and is all provided for by the Soviets.

"They have a concentrated, interlaced, layered, air defense network that sports at its highest tier, SA-20 systems, which have a range of one hundred and twenty miles. We have yet to confirm if they have the SA-21 system, which offers ranges up to two hundred and fifty miles. Medium-range systems are provided for by the SA-17, with a range of thirty miles. For short-range and point defense they rely on two, the SA-15 at seven and a half miles and the SA-22 at twelve miles. They have a large stock of shoulder-fired, SA-24 MANPADs, which have a range of just shy of four miles.

"These systems are capable of operating in heavy jamming environments and they are not as immune to chaff and flare systems as their predecessors. The two-color seeker on the SA-24 for example mandates that no aircraft fly under fifteen thousand feet unless it is equipped with the most current software updates and infrared jamming systems. The radar-guided systems previously mentioned mandate the use of standoff weaponry.

"Early warning is provided by numerous mobile systems that have ranges in excess of two hundred miles. Their entire network is controlled from several key centers that will have to be neutralized before any aircraft ventures into their airspace. These shelters are hardened and buried and we cannot attack them without penetrating munitions. They have a large number of older surface-to-air systems such as the SA-3, SA-6, SA-8, SA-9, and SA-11 as well as ZSU and KS mobile and towed anti-aircraft guns. Whether or not these are in use is unknown at this time but we can expect that they are in a ready-to-use configuration if they are not.

"Moving onto aircraft, they have a large number of advanced, upgraded MiG-21bis Fishbed aircraft for internal defense. The rest of their air force includes the advanced Flanker models, the Su-30MKI and the Su-35BM as well as the newest Fulcrum, the MiG-35. They have Su-24M Fencers for ground-strike and they are phasing these out for Su-34s. They operate a number of A-50 Mainstay early warning aircraft and they utilize Il-76s and Il-78s for their large transport needs. They are a very mobile force. They have approximately twenty-four Tu-22M-3 Backfire long-range bombers, equipped with anti-ship missiles that can sink aircraft carriers.

"We do not know yet if they have the advanced, fifth generation Flanker known as the PAK FA. They have a number of MiG-31 Foxhounds in service and we believe scores of older MiGs and Sukhois in storage. We can expect that these might not be in ready-to-use condition unless a conflict draws out past several months or several years.

"Their navy consists mostly of fast attack craft and patrol boats equipped with long-range, heavy, anti-ship missiles. Again, their focus is more on the defensive nature than the offensive nature. The lack of a large coastline means that they are not equipped with very large escorts but we know they have diesel-electric submarines to patrol their coastline. Are there any questions so far?" The Chairman said, stopping where he was.

"Have we been conducting signal's collection to determine the frequencies that they use for their missiles?" The Emperor asked.

"We have been sir and we can effective conduct electronic warfare jamming but we cannot do so until we have neutralized the more powerful, long-range systems. The only way to do that safely is through the use of stealth, cruise missiles, the Cobalt for example."

"And of their command bunkers Chairman?"

"It would be our recommendation to use a combination attack sir. The Cobalt missile would arrive stealthily and with a significant presence to help neutralize the bunkers. At the same time, the Vesta missile provides a very low time of flight, the inability to adequately predict where it is targeted to, and the warhead to penetrate where necessary. This sort of combined approach guarantees the best success."

"What do they have for missile defense Chairman?"

"Any of their medium-range and long-range systems have that capability but it is not a sole capability. It is more a secondary mission. Their SA-15s could theoretically engage precision-guided munitions sir."

"Our chance of success on a first strike would be rather low then?"

"Sir, it would have to be an overwhelming strike because of their defenses. We would need to neutralize their early warning and command first, followed by their long-range capabilities, and then we can safely neutralize their medium-range and short-range abilities."

"If we were to launch strikes, how long would that take?"

"Overall sir, two to three weeks; the initial strikes will see four days of heavy bombardment via long-range cruise missiles and theater ballistic missiles fired from Cape Verde. We would need to establish a defensive line to ensure that our carrier force is not vulnerable to their long-range bombers. Any aircraft that take off would be regarded as hostile and engaged at range, particularly their bombers. The use of stealth aircraft in the initial stages of this conflict would be a must. They'll be able to track them sir but only for short periods and with short-range systems. Knowing where they have those systems, we can fly around them."

"Birean airspace will be hotly contested then and we face serious risk for taxing losses, correct?"

"Correct sir."

"Then a combined arms approach, with Apilonian and the Dalmascans would be the only approach, correct?"

"Correct again sir. We would propose a Route Pack System, as shown here, which would divvy parts of the country up into different sectors, to ensure that we are not getting in one another's way. As it stands now, there are eleven zones. It would be up to a combined command billet to divvy them up sir."

"Very well, what of their nuclear and other capabilities?"

"Yes sir, let's get to that," the Chairman said as more slides came up behind him. "We suspect, with high accuracy, that the Bireans have a secret nuclear program. Given the advanced state of their military, and the hardware that they possess, it would be naïve to think that they are not a nuclear power. Furthermore, with that comes chemical and even biological weapons. A chemical weapons program is cheap enough for a country such as them to maintain and here again, we believe they have one. Shipments of certain chemicals over the years have led the Ministry of Intelligence to declare them as a chemical weapons power.

"Biological, on the other hand, is even less confirmed. It is our estimation that they do in fact have one but we lack the evidence to state so publically in a court of law."

"Nasty surprises they could throw," the Emperor observed. "What of ballistic missiles?"

"They have a capable ballistic missile program, again of Soviet origin sir. We do not believe they have ICBMs but they could very well have IRBMs and they most certainly have SRBMs. We believe; however, given the state of affairs in Africa, that these missiles are primarily targeted against the New African Republic and the Khorsuni nation. The Kingdom of Dalmasca poses little threat to them by themselves."

"Given the events, it is reasonable to believe that we'll be called into action soon. I've ordered our forces to go on alert for good cause. The 3rd Carrier Battle Group won't be enough though. We'll need more."

"Yes sir," the Admiral of the Navy said, chiming in finally. "If we're to lead the show sir, we're going to need at least two more battle groups deployed. We have one in the South Atlantic already and we have another one that we can surge from Cuba."

"The 15th from Cuba and what is on station, the 16th?"

"Yes sir, the 15th and the 16th as you've stated."

"The 16th is a reserve unit," someone with the Ministry of Intelligence answered with skepticism.

"Our reserve units are as good as our active units," the Admiral responded quickly and with fire on his tongue. "The 16th Carrier Battle Group, like all reserve units are not crewed by reservists. We merely deploy them less. They run the same training regimens as any other deployed unit. They'll be just as capable."

"Yes Admiral, I agree," the Emperor responded, noting just who would question the Admiral of the Navy in such a high level meeting. "Then armed with this information, what is the recommendation of the Ministry of Defense, Minister? Have you a consensus among the Chiefs?"

"We do sir," the Minister of Defense answered. "We would not feel comfortable going into conflict with Birean unless the Dalmascans committed handily, the Apilonians matched our resolve, and we had cooperation from the Khorsunis. Their large border with Birea affords an excellent opportunity to tie up the Birean military. Without them, we do not want to endeavor upon this."

"Do you understand what you've asked here? I want to make it clear."

"Yes sir, we are asking the cooperation of a large foe in helping to defeat an equally large foe."

"Good, then you are aware of the repercussions?"

"We are sir but as it stands now, if we're going to help the Kingdom of Dalmasca, and by all diplomatic and moral right we must, we need their cooperation."

"And if we do not have their cooperation?"

"We would need a much larger force, basing rights, and an invasion force in excess of five hundred thousand men."

"A major war."

"A major war sir."

"Very well, I'll take this into advisement. Armed with the facts, we'll see how this plays out but I do not assume anything. I believe we'll be dropping bombs onto Birea soon enough. The Dalmascans will not let this go without heavy response."

[Dalmasce]

The Kingdom of Dalmasca
Rabanastre - 3:22 AM
January 4th - 2012

Lynette rolled for what counted to be the hundredth time that night, the four poster was ancient, a relic from the seventeen hundreds it had been in the royal collection for more than a hundred years, the sheets that adorned it were of the finest Asian silks and the blanket, a thin but brightly colored and equally expensive was of Egyptian cotton. The tears of anguish had given way to wracking sobs of despair, which in turn had given way to wails of anger, a fury that she'd never felt before that terrified her down to her soul, to hate with such strength as that she did not believe herself capable. After the rage came the crushing silence, she'd banished anyone from the chamber that night, out of fear for their health, it was only now that she realised how lonely the cavernous room was, how the shadows shifted to play tricks on the mind, how the wind howled into the narrow spaces, it was maddening. Outside the door two guardsmen stood as stone statues, someone was never far away, she'd been used to that before she could walk, yet at that moment in the darkness of her room that felt as though it spilled forth from her mind, they could have been right next to her and she would have felt utterly destitute for company.

The young monarch tossed on to her side again, the hundred and first time, before she groaned out of a combination of depression, anger and pure frustration as pulled herself up from the sheets. Pale moon light was the only illumination which she had to move by, though it was unnecessary, having committed the layout of the room to memory many years ago when her mother was still Queen. Her lithe form lacked the spring in its usual step as she flopped into a large chair next to the high seated window that only let light filter in rather than supplying any sort of view. She muttered in prayer to herself for a short period, begging solace from Vesta, the Hearth Goddess, lamenting to the Heavens that she was utterly lost in what to do, asking for direction from the all seeing eyes of the Gods. Other leaders would denounce it foolish, perhaps, idiotic even, with their modern ideas and the death of religion in the majority of society, for Lynette though, the Gods were a real force, and more than anything, she needed their help.

---

6:31 AM

By the time Khalida Karim had stumbled passed the guardsmen outside the Queen's room three hours later, Her Majesty had had little if any rest, alternating between languishing in bed and beseeching her old gods for aid. The handmaid found her crumpled in her chair, bedding thrown to the floor with a Chinese silk sheet over her tiny body, Khalida smiled sadly, she couldn't recall when Lynette looked this small before, even when she was a child. The maid went about her business with an efficient silence, remaking the Queen's bed and stoking a small fire in the pit that dominated the center of the stone wall before she threw open the curtains and laid a gentle hand on the monarch's forearm. "Your Majesty, it's rising time." The maid had a soft voice, matronly and filled with a compassion that the world usually lacked in. Lynette stirred from her light twilight sleep with the light provocation, wincing at the sight of sunlight and running a hand through her ragged ginger hair. "What is the time?" She asked wearily, suppressing a yawn. "Late enough, majesty, up you get." Khalida chased the queen up from the chair she was in before bringing her to a stand-still, being one of the few people on the planet allowed to touch her without fear of reprisal. The hand-maid crossed to the cavernous closet that the Queen kept, filled with a combination of clothing from the sublime courtly fashions of the Dalmascan Golden Age to modern... less conservative things that the handmaid had never actually seen Her Majesty in. With a skill and tact born of many years serving the monarch she quickly plucked several items from the closet before returning to the main room, quietly marveling at the previous queen's modernising of the castle.

"Majesty?" The maid called out, the monarch popped out from behind a modesty screen without a second thought, Khalida frowned, the tint on her cheeks light out of annoyance. "You know better!" Also one of the few people who could dare to chide Lynette, who smiled childishly and held her hands out expectantly receiving her undergarments stepping into them with an almost goofy approach, sleep deprivation wasn't good for people. The maid maintained her frown as she helped the queen the rest of the way into her light cotton multilayered outfit that flared out with bright colours of complimenting blues and golds, when the process was finished Khalida smiled wide before reaching for a finetoothed ivory handled comb that was almost as old as the castle was and carefully worked out the raggedness of the monarch's hair until it was silk-smooth. "There." There was no ceremony applied when Lynette covered her head with the thin gold diadem that was the crown of Dalmasca and saw herself out of her room, on either side of the door her guard snapped to attention before filing in behind her like shadows.

She lacked a spark in her eye when she arrived in the deserted throne room, it wouldn't be filled for several more hours so she sat in a smaller chair at its base where her prime minister sat normally, though he would be in later as well. A tired click of her fingers brought forth servants from hidden places who provided the monarch wordlessly with whatever she asked, and while it was against her own fiber normally, today, she intended to be reeling before the first courtier walked in, she simply lacked the fortitude for politics with a sober mind today.