Return to the Den - The 2nd Kejian War [OPEN|MT|IC]

by **Kejia** » Wed Jan 21, 2015 4:39 pm

"I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its futility, its stupidity." - Dwight D. Eisenhower

Republic of Kejia-People's Republic of Kejia Border
1030 Hours
15th Inimeste Jalaväerügemendi, 1st Company, 3rd Platoon, 3rd Squadron, 1st Team, Lance Corporal Iker Asdermon

It was a same old day, patrolling the border inside of a cramped RG-32 Scout MRAP. It was no different than any other day, and Asdermon hated it. He hated patrolling, he hated the war in Kejia and he hated, oh God, he hated the MRAP they were in. Sitting in the front passenger's seat, Asdermon's MRAP followed three other MRAPs as they drove about three kilometres from the border on a relatively flat plain with jungle trees all around. The IRAK had seen a moderate drop within their quality of troops and quantity they were able to field. Asdermon had felt it, hearing about his nephew being laid off from an industrial complex near Mavistar. Keeping an eye out from the passenger seat, Asdermon fiddled with his FN SCAR as the drive continued. Then, the worst thing that he could hear happened.

In the distance, there was a soft pop, pop, pop, something not common around this part of the border. Immediately, the inter-squadron channel buzzed with feed. The notorious incoming signal was that from the squadron commander.

"All Christmas 3-3 Callsigns, this is 3-3. Be advised, Christmas 3 has informed me that we have KDR GCEs and ACEs closing in on key military points in our turf. Prepare to dismount and engage any contacts at any time. Out." The voice came over.

Huffing, Asdermon straightened up and snapped the bolt shut in his FN SCAR as he looked over to his right at a huge clump of jungle trees. He was nervous, nervous about the new strength the KDR had found throughout their immense reform and their modernization. Nervous about the People's Republic, and how weakened it has become. Asdermon could only pray that he would survive to see a unified Kejia.

Then, one of the RG-32s in the centre of the convoy were hit by a rocket from the left side as a TTS-7 'Spear' Medium Tank drove over the slight incline to their left. Oh shit was the only thought that went through Asdermon's mind as his MRAP stopped and he kicked his door open. Outside, it felt balmy, warm and there was already gunfire in the air as Asdermon watched his grenadier get mowed down by automatic fire from the other side of the road. Sliding behind the MRAP, Asdermon began to panic, slightly. Looking over the hood of the RG-32's hood, Asdermon lifted his rifle and began to fire blindly into the woods, hopefully hitting something that wasn't a tree.

"Christmas 3-3! This is Alpha! What's happening?!" Asdermon shouted into his radio.

Nothing came back as Asdermon looked to his right and saw a couple of dead IRAK soldiers along with a few men resisting frantically still. Grimacing, Asdermon sighed before looking back, right as a 5.56 round pierced his head, cracking the skull and sending him backwards, dead.

by **Valdiu** » Wed Jan 21, 2015 7:27 pm

VCS MALAKAI - 0100 HOURS
ETA: 2 DAYS FROM KEJIA

Wshhhhhh. Wshhhhhh. Pvt. James Scapart listened to the waves lap lazily against the side of the massive ship's hull, as he flicked a smoldering butt overboard. "Pretty sure you're breaking a few environmental protection laws there, private," said a familiar voice, followed by the creak and dull thud of a bulkhead door slamming shut. Scapart whirled around and snapped to attention. "Lieutenant Colonel Ferterma, sir!" Ferterma laughed. "At ease, soldier."

Though they were moving steadily, the black sky above them seemed to move not an inch - as it never did. Millennia of ships moving through these very waters for this very purpose, and those sailing across other great seas for nobler causes - they all sailed under this same black sky. The moon was hidden behind low-lying clouds, it yielded just enough to reflect its steady radiance onto the tips of the waves below, as they frolicked about each other.

Still, the veil of the dark failed to conceal the leviathan behind them - the VCS Halberd. Designed to replace the aging aircraft carriers such as the Long Night of Solace, she was the brunt of the invasion fleet, the main support device, and if Ferterma failed to protect it, then...

Well, VALFORCOM would have his head.

The WEESHFWOOHAAAHH of an Aerodynamica F-12 taking off behind them suddenly penetrated the night, almost causing Scapart to jump overboard. Its jets glowed blue and pink as it sped off to a destination unknown to Scapart, partly because it didn't pertain to him, but mostly because he didn't care.

Scapart sighed. "It's going to be a long war."

"Good evening. I'm Tara Norgeman. Our top story: Today, President Incumbent Alexander Sterling declared war on the Republic of Kejia - excuse me, the PEOPLE'S Republic of Kejia, who invaded their southeastern neighbor, the Republic of Kejia, a democratic nation much like ours, a year ago. Supporting the Republic of Kejia in its 'unification', he said today:

"We must not allow anybody, whether they claim to be communist or democratic, to unwarranted attempt to destroy other nations - especially if their ideologies are in favor of protecting human rights or political rights. We supported the Kejians in their actions once before, and we shall support it once again.

Since then, people all across the nation have spoken out both in favor and against this. We'll have more later. Next up: Police tell a Prevale man to 'party'?

by **Murovanka** » Thu Jan 22, 2015 1:59 am

The Volksrepublik Wanka condemns the unprovoked aggression by the so-called Republic of Kejia which is threatening to once again destabilize the entire region. If it doesn’t withdraw its troops immediately, the People’s Armed Forces will be forced to intervene.”

- Foreign Minister Heinrich von Preisen

Hass Isles
1900 Hours

Several horns blared out as the convoy departed the harbour. On board the four troopships, which carried the Panzer division being dispatched to Kejia, bored troops played cards, intoxicated themselves and just generally goofed off. The 12th Panzer was an experienced bunch and had a very colorful history, being one of the oldest standing units in the Volksstreitkräfte and having participated in dozens of conflicts within the country and abroad. However, with the fall of Wanka as an economic power came massive budget cuts for the military, and with little to spend on the massive 4-million strong army, discipline went down the drain. The men of the 12th were a bored, cynical and experienced bunch who only did their duty because they were lucky enough to land a proper well-paid and ironically protected job.

The convoy was protected by a squadron of 12 Ludwigsburg-class destroyers and two Stachelrochen-class attack submarines. The journey was a relatively short one; from the Wankan Naval Base to Kejia it would take them roughly 7 hours.

The younger troops relaxing on the decks suddenly ducked and covered their ears as pairs of Zickoyan-Gurewitsch-23 aircraft roared low past them, climbing rapidly. They were part of the rapidly-formed Mixed Wing Kejia, the aerial contingent being dispatched to provide air cover for the ground troops. Amongst them flew the commander of the Wankan forces, Generalfeldmarschall Ludwig Eisendorff, and his staff, ready to quickly set up their camp in the joint command center for the allied forces.

Code: Select all: Message to all PRK Allies Be advised that our forces are en route, eta 7 hours for ground troops. The Mixed Wing Kejia will be arriving shortly. If possible, we would appreciate a naval contingent to guard the sea lanes between the Hass isles and Kejia, which will be vital to the war effort. We also require the location of the joint command center of our forces. Eisendorff

by **Moon Nazi** » Thu Jan 22, 2015 11:57 am

Furstenfeldbruck Air Base
0800 Hours
A military base in Hamburg

New paratroopers and marines have just arrived to leave

My Brothers in arms, I am aware of the dangers and rumors past around about the terrain, the men and the nations that you are facing. That the Reich stands no chance against these obstacles, that it is the 2nd downfall of the glorious Reich. But what those men don't know, what you don't know is that we are the descendants of a united people under the Fuhrer and the Reich. To quote Henry the 5th "We few, we happy few, we band of brothers, for he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother". The crowd erupts in clapping and cheering as the General proudly smiles leading them to bar local bar, where they part-take in drinking.

Sometime passes as more and more troop enter the military base until eventually the Soldiers leave to fight against the Capitalists. The troops will be deployed at port in port city in an allied Peoples Republic of Kejian. Troops immediately start building landing strip for the Paratroopers. The Paratroopers are expected to arrive at 1900 hours tomorrow to reinforce of Kejian, and to eventually spread in order to give armed support toward the nation involved in the OPFOR.

by **Nerotysia** » Thu Jan 22, 2015 1:43 pm

Shynsk
The People's Union of Nerotysia
1300 Hours

"And so, we must stand firmly against these imperialist aggressors, else we risk allowing yet another nation fall into the Tartaric pit of capitalism. Thank you."

The polite roar of claps responded heartily to Zakhar's speech, and he felt a gratified rush as he retook his seat in the Assembly Theater. It was a large, domed building, its insides coloured a bright auburn, and the seats for the Assembly members were arranged like amphitheater seats around a central podium. A balcony hung from above, where numerous officials sat and observed. The walls sported two giant gold embellishments - shaped in the triple-swipe of Nerotysian communism.

Zakhar always felt gratified after giving a speech, but this time especially so. From the level of applause he was confident that he had won enough support for his newest project, a project that had landed in his lap only a little while ago.

"Excuse me," said a voice. The voice of Viktor Kutikov, burgeoning political powerhouse and leader of the peacemonger faction in the Peninsular People's Assembly. He and his bloc were fighting to change Nerotysian foreign policy from the xenophobic militarism that had dominated since its independence.

"We must pause and consider before we go racing headlong into a war in some distant hellhole." Kutikov stood up, but did not approach the central podium. Zakhar had proposed a motion, a motion infused with war, and so he'd been allowed to make his case in the center. Argument would now proceed.

"Oh, pause and consider? While the world falls around us?" jeered Zakhar. He felt his blood begin to boil and tried to calm himself. Real rage was unbecoming of a politician, it made one rash and reckless.

"No, consider whether we should throw ourselves off this cliff without a parachute!" He demanded. "For decades we have plunged heedlessly into confrontation after confrontation. Perhaps we should slip from the tactics of our primitive ancestors and-"

Now the jeers drowned him out, and Zakhar sat comfortably in his seat. His faction might be crumbling under Kutikov's assault, but on this particular issue at least the militarists would win.

Nerotysia would march to war.

Cynagrad
The People's Union of Nerotysia
1600 Hours

Admiral Lorkov strode like a thunderstorm. Quick and forceful.

Ignoring the chattering aides that surrounded him he swiftly made his way towards his destination, a small blue-tinted elevator hiding down a long hallway inside the People's Admiralty. The steel cylinder sunk into the ground with Lorkov encased in its belly.

The door opened into a gargantuan, bluish room. It was all steel, and it was almost the size of a baseball field, with a several layers of balconies. The blue tint was due to all of the computer screens that dotted the periphery, and the blue strip lights that beamed brightness from above. This was the Blue Room.

Lorkov continued his striding straight to the center of the room, which was dominated by a large, glowing table. A map flickered on the screen that was imprinted into this table, a map of a very fateful island. The island of Kejia.

"So, they've voted for war?" Lorkov asked, raking the map with practiced eyes.

"Not quite yet," responded Arkadi Tyshchenko, the Vice-Admiral in command of Nerotysia's Neptic Fleet. He was staring intently at the map, leaning over it and pointing out positions to a lieutenant.

"So what have they, then?"

"Demands are to be made, and then war. Naval forces are to be dispatched immediately as a threat and a precaution."

"Fine. Well, you know what we discussed - we can simply modify the Menzki Plan."

"Are you sure? Certain details have changed." Tyshchenko indicated several glowing figures on the map. Lorkov pondered for only a few moments.

"No, Menzki will work fine. I'm placing you in charge of the task force. You leave today."

Tyshchenko looked up. "We've received communication from a friendly state pertaining to the war."

"Well, get a response ready then. This will all be in your hands. Failure will not be an option."

Tyshchenko nodded.

A Public Message from the Executive Committe of the Nerotysian Peninsular Communist Party

The People's Union of Nerotysia will not stand for the egregiously aggressive actions undertaken by the Republic of Kejia. All Republican forces are to be withdrawn from the People's Republic of Kejia within twenty-four hours of this message. If they remain, armed conflict will ensue.

That is all.

Code: Select all: To the high command of the Volksrepublik Wanka and the People's Republic of Kejia Nerotysian military vessels have been dispatched to the northern tip of Kejia, near Byeka, ETA 12 hours. They are requesting rendezvous with Murovankan forces. Vice-Admiral Tyshchenko will be traveling with the fleet, he requests a joint command center in Kejiasburg.

by **The Strategic Air Command** » Thu Jan 22, 2015 11:03 pm

Rosebush AFB: Cerfasburg, Republic of Kejia

Major General Will Horton looked at a map of the PRK in the operations room along with Colonel Stan O’Malley, his deputy commander, and Colonel John Scanlon, the operations officer. “So, the Kejians launched their offensive across the border,” General Horton said, “What’s intel have to say about it?”

“Well General,” O’Malley began, looking at the intel brief, “Looks like the Kejians, that’s to say ‘our Kejians’, are pushing motorized infantry and armor across at several points,” he pointed at the locations on the map, “So far, no info on any significant casualties on our side if the report from our ROK liaison are accurate.”

“No requests for air support yet on my side,” Colonel Scanlon said, “However, I took the liberty of placing the medium bombers and strike aircraft near the border on alert. They should be available whenever we need them, and would operate in support of the ground assault. As for our fighters, they are continuing the air patrols along the border, and the Archangels at Rosebush are ready to scramble if we have a bomber threat.”

“What about the heavies?” Horton asked,

“All wings have been alerted, and briefings should be wrapping up about now.” Scanlon said looking at his notes, “We’re going to begin a systematic bombing campaign of the north. According to our strike plan, the B-70s will go in first followed by the 52s, and flatten a path to the capital’s doorstep.”

“I like the sound of that,” Horton said, “If we can keep up the momentum, we can hopefully force a surrender, least be begin countervalue operations. All we need now is Offutt’s blessing and we can go ahead.”

“Sir, message from headquarters,” an airman said running over and handing a sheet of paper to General Horton, who quickly looked it over,

“Well there it is in black and white,” Horton said tapping the paper, “It’s from General LeMay too, ‘Your mission’” he read, “‘Is to assist SAC’s Kejian allies, along with other allied forces, in their assault against the communist controlled portion of the island. As such, you are cleared to begin operations as soon as it is conducive to you. In addition, all ordinance in your theater has been placed in your control for the duration of the operation.’ Well gentlemen, let’s go to work, again.”

Bunesdam Municipal Airport, Republic of Kejia

The truck stopped in front of each of the B-70 bombers lined up in the parking area requisitioned by SAC as a dispersal area for bombers letting off each four man crew. Fourth down the line, the truck stopped in front of a bomber, identical to the rest with its triangular shape and three color grey camouflage, save for the words “Same Day Service” painted under the forward canard over top of a blonde lady wearing a skimpy delivery uniform holding a bomb wrapped in brown paper, letting off the crew and proceeding down the line.

“Doesn’t it figure?” Lieutenant Ralph Duke the defensive systems officer, or DSO, said as they climbed up the ladder next to the fuselage, “We see action two years ago, and when we get rotated out the war stops. When we come back a few days ago ago, it gets hot again, why is it always our luck?”

“Oh, quit your bellyaching.” Captain Frank Wade, the pilot, said as he climbed into his seat, “We had it easy in the meantime. Remember Fasaland?”

“I would hardly compare Fasaland to anything,” Lieutenant Doug McDonnell, the weapons systems officer, or WSO, said as he closed the hatch as the ladder was pulled away, “Given they folded before our wheels even touched the runway, I would put Fasaland on par with a training mission.”

“Listen, we all got combat pay from that one and we got to paint another bomb on the side of the ol’ gal, I don’t want to hear the word ‘Fadsaland’ again, understood?” Wade said as he started each of the eight engines. After receiving the signal from the ground crew that they were clear, Wade and his copilot Captain Dave Hopkins maneuvered the bomber onto the runway and after getting clearance, accelerated down the runway into the air. “Alright, in case your forget, our destination is the port facility at Mavistar, by way of a tanker outside Glesmov, I guess the target boys want to start choking the Pukes.”

“Pukes?” McDonnell asked,

“Eh, I heard some of the ROKs call them that, it fits, oddly enough.” Wade said with a shrug, as he turned the bomber out to sea” “At mach three, I figure on half an hour to the tanker, and an hour to target following that.”

by **Republic of Kejia** » Fri Jan 23, 2015 2:59 pm

OOC: I'll just get the posts down. Don't godmod my troops please but feel free to kick hostilities and deployments off.

TO: The Strategic Air Command, Kejian Detachment Commander
FROM: KEJCOM Commander, Field Marshal Faneskre Palkik
SUBJECT: Air Clearance
ENCRYPTION: Titanic 11 - Military Grade Encryption

Whomever it may concern,

I am Field Marshal Faneskre Palkik, overall commander of the Republic of Kejia forces under KEJCOM. By orders of the Republic's government, we hereby grant you access to use CAS/Air Dominance over the island. From this point forward, you are officially part of KEJCOM as well, so you must answer to higher ranks as a result.

I trust you and your pilots will do well. The KDR will also have birds in the air so be wary of friendly aircraft when you deploy.

That is all,

Field Marshal Faneskre Palkik
Commander of KEJCOM; Operation Lancer
Field Marshal as of October 29th 2014

by **Kejia** » Fri Jan 23, 2015 3:07 pm

TO: All Allies of the People's Republic of Kejia, both combatants and non-combatants
CC: Lieutenant General Hemrali Uyerska, Commander of the Home Guard; Marshal Seamak Peol, Commander of ISLCOM
FROM: Senior Marshal Reik Samoli, Commander of WOLCOM
SUBJECT: (No Subject)
ENCRYPTION: Olympia 406 - Highest Encryption

Gentlemen,

As of 1030 Hours of today, we are now officially in a state of war with the vile Loyalists to the south of the former DMZ between us. It is not like last time during the July War where we were faced with overwhelming odds with an incredible amount of enemies, now, the playing field is even. We can grind down the Republic's best and crush them before pushing for Oksbyre.

For those who do not know me, I am Senior Marshal Reik Samoli, commander of WOLCOM or WOLF COM, the battle group that is responsible for the offensive forces of the People's Republic. Lieutenant General Uyerska is the commander of the reserves of the People's Republic and Marshal Peol is commander of the small group of regiments on the island north from here. All of us wish to coordinate you and as a result, we hereby grant you access to our territory, our ports, our airports and our military bases in return for your cooperation and willingness to become unified under WOLCOM.

As of now, Republican forces have cut through the regiment that was stationed at the border, there is no stopping the rout there. We are currently trying to set up a defensive line in front of Elimua, approximately 2 kilometres from there. I know that it will not hold forever, but hopefully long enough for all of you to arrive and join the fight.

Peace be with you brothers, and hope for victory against the Loyalists,

Reik Samoli
Overall Commander of WOLCOM, Senior Marshal for IRAK

by **Moon Nazi** » Fri Jan 23, 2015 8:53 pm

Code: Select all: 1900 hours Berlin, Germany The Reichstag Building

The Fuhrer was at his desk sipping on a cup of coffee when there was suddenly a loud knock at the door. "Come in." said the Fuhrer. "Sir," started out the Head of State, "we have received an international letter from the General of the Kejia stating it's state of war!" "Let me read it" replied the Fuhrer, not knowing what to expect. He finds it quite dull and asks for a report on how the soldiers are doing and if whether or not they landed and find the results also quite dull, yawns Then begins writing a letter in response to the message

To: Kejia
From: The Nazi Reich
We have read your letter and we are outrage at the comments saying victory against the "Loyalists". So we will not hesitate to both enslave and kill you pathetic people that live among of glorious people. We also will not hesitate to murder and enslave your people in your own nation you pathetic Democratic barbarian hippie.

Sincerely, The Fuhrer

Code: Select all: 2100 hours The Kejian coast

The most esteemed and famed General Friedrich von Wilhelm of the 113st Seebataillon(Marine corp) meets up with Wolfgang von Werner Lionheart of the 121st Fallschirmjager(Paratrooper) and the Pride of the 149th Panzertruppe(Tank Division) Klaus von Hindenburg. They discuss their tactical engagement toward the enemy lines and after hours of discussion they decided to split into two forces. The Fallschirmjager(paratroopers) and half of the Panzertruppe(Tank Division) will give armed support to the nation allied with The People Republic of Kejia and The People Republic of Kejia itself. Meanwhile the Seebataillon(Marine Corps) and the other half of the Panzertruppe(Tank Division) will march toward creating a sort of front line where the Kejian Army will see it's downfall.

by **Murovanka** » Sat Jan 24, 2015 4:14 am

WOLCOM Allied Joint Command Center

Barely an hour had passed since the Wankan Commander, Ludwig Eisendorff and his staff, had settled into their new surroundings when his intelligence officer, a cigarette in his mouth, strode up to him.

”Herr Generalfeldmarschall, we have received reports from the IRAKs ground-based radar that formations of enemy aircraft are flying toward the border with possibly hostile intent. The facts correspond with the Abwehrs report of the sighting of the take-off of numerous foreign bombers.”

He quickly scanned through the report. ”Ruf den Stab zusammen.”

“Zu Befehl!”

Moments later, Eisendorff and his air force officers had gathered around a table. The intelligence officer pointed toward the ports, cities and other valuable targets the bombers were able to hit.

“Worryingly, they could hit any of the two ports that the 12th Panzer is going to offload in roughly two hours.” finished the intelligence officer.

“Can our combat air patrol intercept them?” enquired Eisendorff, motioning to the operations officer.

“They’re due to be relieved in 45 minutes, and they’re pretty tired, after having to fly here and then fly CAP. I suggest sending the 4th squadron to intercept them. They’re easily in range, and are only waiting for the order to take-off.”

“Alright then. Coordinate with the Kejians, though. Their air defences don’t seem particularly impressive, but I’d rather not have a friendly-fire incident.”

The Field Marshal dismissed the men, who saluted crisply and returned to their posts. Two minutes later, the first ZiG-29 pair, armed for their air-to-air role, roared into the air. All sixteen Wankan-made warbirds were soon in the air, flying to what would be the first Wankan engagement in the war.

”Falkeführer, Zentrale. Behalten sie den Kurs. Viel Glück.”

“Verstanden. Falke Zwo-Eins, fliegen sie voraus. Genossen, mögen wir heil zuhause wieder ankommen…”

Comrades, may we get back home in one piece.

by **Nerotysia** » Sat Jan 24, 2015 8:49 am

The Skies over Kejiasburg
The People's Republic of Kejia

The sky was a burnished blue, the sun a slick watery disk. First Lieutenant Nataliya Yeshevsky felt her mind melting with the beauty of the landscape, and sharply she shook it off. She could visit museums if she wanted to admire landscapes.

Tilting the nose of her aircraft up slightly, she examined the skies around her. Empty, clean as the steel of a fresh-bought car, no other aircraft in sight. Just the way she liked it. Suddenly her radio buzzed to life.

"Polar squadron, this is Seabird One. We've landed safely, excellent work. RTB and await further orders."

Nataliya grinned. Her squadron had been assigned to escort some VIP to Kejiasburg, and though no resistance had been expected there was always a tension that strung her insides dry. Now that the big-shot was safely on the ground she needn't worry.

"Roger that, Seabird One," she snapped quickly, before switching to another channel. "Kosaryov, this is Polar squadron. Objective complete, we're RTB."

She felt the usual rush of adrenalin that accompanied a sharp banking turn, and she could hear her underlings follow her example as she readjusted her nose in the direction of the fleet. She was ready to gun the engines when the soft buzz of empty radio suddenly squawked and a voice came through.

"Polar squadron, this is Kosaryov. Permission has been granted to use Kejian facilities. Redirect to Byeka International, remain on alert and await further orders. Please be advised, additional aircraft will be landing at Byeka over the coming hours. Over."

Brows drawn in confusion, Nataliya responded with a crisp "Roger that," before again tilting her bird and shifting in a different direction. She had not expected to be assigned to an airbase so early, but - yes, she had enough fuel to make it. Hostilities must be kicking off faster than expected.

"All Polar callsigns, you hear that? We're heading to Byeka." Another period of soft buzz, and then a chorus of acknowledgements. Despite her lack of knowledge she felt the edges of her lips curl into a smile. Combat was coming. Even the irritating talkative squaddie was silent, and she knew why, but she had none of her underlings' anxiety. She was ready.

Kejiasburg
The People's Republic of Kejia

Arkadi Tyshchenko hated flying.

He'd been famous for becoming notoriously airsick as a child, and this recurrent queasiness had only stopped after months of military training. He'd had to force his own airsickness to leave him, but still the general uneasiness remained. And so he was quite happy to be off the transport and on the streets of Kejiasburg.

Two military jeeps roared through the downtown asphalt, Tyshchenko trying to take in everything about his surroundings, as was his habit. A lieutenant broke through his bobbing head and rapid-fire thoughts.

"Sir, we've recieved reports that the SAC has launched air raids. Wankan aircraft are intercepting." Arkadi rubbed his chin.

"Well, one more thing to discuss." He looked out the windows, awaiting the arrival with energetic impatience.

Finally the jeeps stopped outside a giant brick-and-concrete hotel, complete with embellished windowsills and wiry steel balconies. Stepping out of the car and striding through the mahogany doors he wondered briefly what Eisendorff would be like. He decided it didn't matter. They needed to work together, personal feelings aside.

The inside was resplendent with velvet curtains and a plush purple carpet, all framed by sandstone-colored walls. One of Arkadi's aides was ready to approach the front desk when a fellow in military garb walked up the the assembled men.

"You are the Nerotysian commander? Follow me."

by **The Strategic Air Command** » Sat Jan 24, 2015 5:41 pm

B-70 Valkyrie “Same Day Service”, Airspace Over Kejia

Having received the order to proceed to the target, Captain Wade detached from the tanker, turned clear and brought the bomber back up to its cruising speed and altitude. Eventually the bomber and its crew crossed the border into The People’s Republic of Kejia. After several minutes of flying, the radio crackled in Wade’s helmet. “Ax Yard to Indian-4,” the voice from SAC’s command center spoke,

“Indian-4, go ahead”, Captain Wade said back,

“Be advised that long range radar reports several bogies going airborne, most likely fighters. Plot puts them ahead and significantly below you. Any changes will alert, Ax Yard out.”

“Get that DSO?” Wade called back to Lieutenant Duke,

“Yah, but no sign yet, if I see anything, I’ll advise.” Duke said from his position, “Also, penetration ECM is now active, that should give us some breathing room.”

Wade looked at the gauges in front of him, particularly the altimeter showing them at 70,000 feet. “Doug, I think we should climb to angles seventy three, it’ll put some air between us and those fighters.”

Captain McDonnell looked at his readings and ran the numbers in his head, “Yah, good idea, plus we still have some breathing room if we need it.” With that, both pilots pulled back gently on their control yokes and the bomber began to climb. [i]Good luck catching us,[i] McDonnell thought watching the altimeter tick upwards, and the airspeed indicator sit comfortably at mach 3.

by **Lutvikkia** » Sat Jan 24, 2015 8:15 pm

LUTVIKKIA GRAND COUNCIL CHAMBERS,ILLUSTRIOUS LEADER CAMBERS

" When in the course of human events.....no, December seventh nineteen forty one......no, not even the right damn day. I know...There will be dark days ahead.....NO! "
A knock came at the door.
" Illustrious Leader? it's time to address the council."
Anndraas was terrible at making speeches, that's why he had people for that. But his secretary was doing her duty over seas. She volunteered her time with young adults wishing to become dignitaries. Someone was being rushed here, but with security and distance, it did not look good. As he entered the grand council room, he noticed that most of the council and Drudge dignitaries were present. Hell he was not even supposed to be the Illustrious Leader except that ass Schyddel, that was "Imparted"
" His Illustrious Leader Anndraas Ribert Kassbrat "
He took the podium, gripped the handholds, took a deep breath and began.
"Ladies and gentleman, it has befallen our great nation of Lutvikkia once again to bring forth the question of war. I ask you to consider once again the need to defend another nation. A nation split by war its self. The very thought of war is by nature is appalling. We as Lutvikkians have many freedoms that we take for granted. Our allies number among those that we have assisted in their times of need, and we are better for it. Should you choose to turn a blind eye to this new crisis at hand? We will loose an opportunity to make another nation whole, stronger, and free. Along with ourselves. Now I know we, I have recalled you this late evening to return here and do your solemn duty and vote. And for that I am sorry, but the need for haste is upon us, as fleets are already converging to wage war as well. So I now leave the floor to you, but I must beg urgency."

The hall erupted into murmuring, heads shook and nodded. And finally
a Drudge stood up and walked down to the podium, and spoke, after being announced.
" Drudge Illieus Hillann - Lutvikkia Ambassador Relations presiding "
" My fellow Lutvikkians, it is never warranted to blindly wage war on a fellow nation. However, war is a part of our natural lives. And from time to time we as a nation must by definition, participate as well. Not just for our safety and security, but for the safety and security of all mankind. That is why we have voted Eight Hundred Two to Seven, for war. Illustrious Leader, if you will just sign the document, it will be official."

GROSSBURY HARBOR SOUTHERN LUTVIKKIA

SECOND FLOTILLA - Third Fleet Gerris

As the old battleship and her fleet slowly came to life, it was as if a sleeping dragon was waking to do battle once again. The LNN Shaunnan BB-12 was being led by tugs to the "alive point" or Alpha point of the harbor, where she would leave port under her own power. Children and adults lined the public access points to catch a glimpse of the old battle wagon and her fleet leaving.

On the bridge -
" Helm, One-Hundred-Twenty yards to "A" point sir"
"Clear that helm. Engineering, status report?"
Down in the bowels of the ship, massive engines slowly began to revolve as the Luceket glowed. The chemical reaction that powered Lutvikkian vessels made for a "Christmas" effect in Engineering.
"You'll have full power in Eight minutes sir"
"Very well, clear that. Rad-com to all commands, we are alive and making way."
" Rad-com sir, clear that. Comm-12 to all commands, we are alive and making way."
The massive ship reached the "A" point and the water began to churn and roil as the triple screws spun pushing the majestic vessel through the water.
" Rad-com to all commands Ten days steaming time to Kejia, tuck in."

by **Murovanka** » Sat Jan 24, 2015 9:28 pm

Above PROK Airspace
IV./Mischgeschwader Kejia

”Alle Falke-RZ, Falkeführer. Steigt zu Eins-Sieben Tausend Kilometer, Kurs behalten. Targets are flying darned fast, we will only have a short window to fire.”

The ZiG-29s continued climbing rapidly. They could technically fire their Luft-Luft-Lenkflugkörper 77 (Wankan version of RL R-77) medium range air-to-airs, but the probability of landing the kill would be significantly lowered. Their orders were clear: Shoot them down before they release payload. Unfortunately, intelligence hadn’t pointed out that these bombers could fly much faster than the Wankers’ most advanced air superiority fighter. If they missed their chance, they would have to intercept the bombers on the way back. The 2nd Squadron was already in the air prepared just for that, although everyone hoped they wouldn’t have to join the action.

The four flights, spread thinly and approaching various groups of the enemy bomber formations, prepared to launch. Calls of Fuchs-Neun, the brevity code for the -77, rang out as forty-eight LLL-77, on average two per bomber, were released. The bombers raced past, red-hot missiles on their tail. The 29’s, having no chance of catching up, fell back and began their combat air patrol routine, aggressively searching the sky for any hostiles, ready to engage with their remaining mix of LLL-77s and -29s. Meanwhile, the MiG-23’s of the 2nd Squadron took up the chase at high altitude, preparing to intercept the bombers on the way back, in case they survived.

WOLCOM Allied Joint Command Center

”Wel-ckom, Sör Tshchenko. I am Eisendorff. My apolocheese for my bad english. Please, follow me.” greeted Field Marshal Eisendorff his Nerotysian counterpart. He continued talking as they walked to the situation room.

“Zhe bomber zhat has entöred our airspace ist being… ah…” Eisendorff looked at his translator/bodyguard for help.

“Attacked.”

“Attacked by our Jäger, fightars right now. But it don’t look very gut. Our fightars are too slow, you see. Ve vill need some seriös help from you if we are going control zhe… “

”Skies heisst es. Oder einfach air. Ist eine gute Redewendung, sehr gut, Herr Generalfeldmarschall.”

“… zhe skies. Ah, hier ve are. Please talck to my offizers for zhe details. Zhey can speak bettör english.”

They sat down at the table with the rest of the officers who were monitoring the situation in the air. His staff took up the conversation as the Field Marshal sat back, clearly embarrassed by his inferior language skills as compared to his officers. It didn’t help the self-conscious Wanker that the Nerotysian commander looked thoroughly confused.

by **AF Independent** » Sun Jan 25, 2015 3:57 am

Garrison Base, Whitsburg, Republic of Kejia
1030 Hours
5th Mechanized Infantry Battalion, 4th Company, Military Communications
Operator Rafe Teunis

Is 2 year after the war, victory for the RoK. Teunis found his love one in Whitsburg, so he decided to stay here. After the war, Independent decided to garrison Kejia in order to train the young conscript. 5th Mechanized and 25th Panzer stay here, when other stationed in Oksbyre. While he is double checking the list of latest logistic resupply for their base, an orange message pops up suddenly from his work station’s monitor and start beeping.

MERCY MESSENGER

FROM: 5th Mechanized Infantry Battalion, Border Observer
ENCRYPTION: Military Standard

At 1029 hour, we spotted huge military movement of KDR, multiple APCs and trucks crossing the border rapidly.

“The revenge of the wounded man...” He murmured. When he going to report. A red message pops up from the screen and beeping loudly.

[!]MERCY MESSENGER[!]

FROM: 5th Mechanized Infantry Battalion, Border Observer
ENCRYPTION: Military Standard

At 1030 hour, shots fired, second Kejian war confirmed, retreating to Whitsburg.

National LAN party, Innerring Stadium, Innerring, AF Independent
1033 Hours
Leader Abbus Farber

He is listening to the opening speech with over 2500 gamers, introducing new PC games and 100G fiber networks, a well suited man who sitting next to him mumbled.

“Republic of Kejia launches a massive offense at 1030, shots has been fired. Stryker waiting at Gate C.”

They both stand up and rush toward the exit.

Garrison Base, Oksbyre, Republic of Kejia
1035 Hours
0th Heavy Panzer Battalion, Maus 03
Tank crews

The monstrous heavy tank recorded in the history, reborn with modern technology, 2 MTU MB 873 engine, and new chobham material and armed with 140 mm smoothbore gun with an automatic loader, equipped with point defense laser. Either T-80 or RPG-29 is a joke for it.

When the driver finally park their “extra-large” tank into the repair bay for the regular check, a soldier run through the bay and shouted. “Everyone to briefing room, shit happened.”

In the briefing room, every soldier was discussing whats going on. A CO walk in, the room became soundless. "Listen up ladies and gentlemen, we are at war. Reinforcement will be on their way shortly."

Innerring highway, Innerring, AF Independent
1042 Hours
Leader Abbus Farber

His Stryker moving north-east in 90km/h, pass over a military train load with Leopard 2A7+ and 2E. Behind the Skryker, it followed by over 70 KAT1s, rolling to Innerring naval base.

Conference room, Innerring naval base, Innerring, AF Independent
1217 Hours
Leader Abbus Farber

Is a sunny day as usual for independentians. A large naval base located near a stunning waterside. Everyone focus on their duties. Container cranes are busy hoisting. Troops are boarding to the amphibious cargo ship.

“Great, 85% of our voting population voted. 92.34% agree to assist Kejia once again. The war is a go.” Farber scanned at the voting result on his smartphone.

“Now let’s archive what we promise! LET’S GO!” A purple-highlight emo girl shouted, echoed in a silence room.

“Let’s go.” “Rena, I got your F23 ready.”

“GREAT!”

Aircraft carrier “Dreadnought”, Innerring waterspace, AF Independent
1745 Hours
Captain
General Stefan Reier

The flight deck placed with different kinds of planes, and few eye-catching F23s.

“What now? Are we going to borrow bloody escort once again?” He taunted while answering the phone.

“I show my deepest apology about immature decision 2 years ago,” Farber apologized. “You will get 15 scorpions, 8 submarines, and a skyblocker in your fleet.” He continued.

“Not to be mean, I just want to make sure we won’t happen that embarrassing experience again, try to borrow some escorts but ejected multiple times.” Stefan sighed when he sign the assignment.

“Bring electrica too, you may find it useful.”

“You really got guts to put an unstable railgun at my fleet?” He put his pen down.

“So? It’s not "unstable", it’s just "unpopular". Railguns is so destructive, the power that you could never imagine." "By the way, good luck, general.*toot*…*toot*…*toot*…”

“What a nonsense!” He hangs up his phone and laughed.

The ports become empty, and over 30 vessels and submarines sailed toward sunset.

by **Nerotysia** » Sun Jan 25, 2015 8:07 am

Kejiasburg
The People's Republic of Kejia

Tyshchenko felt like he was talking to his grandmother, and she spoke an obscure archaic dialect of Okachinski with no knowledge of English whatsoever.

Well, that's a bit harsh, he thought. Eisendorff seemed like a good man. He spent a few awkward moments trying to unravel the man's words in his brain, but soon an aide leaned down to whisper the basic meaning into his year. Nodding in understanding, Arkadi leaned over the map on the table, rubbing his chin.

"We can help with the skies. Our multiroles are fifth-generation and can reach mach 2.5. How fast, precisely, are the bombers?" Tyshchenko looked up with his inquiry. Eisendorff gestured to a lieutenant to respond.

"Vee estimate mach 3, sir."

Tyshchenko grumbled. "What do Kejia's air defenses look like? The bombers will be easy to deal with if we have some SAMs."

"Vee are unsure, sir." Tyshchenko snapped for an aide.

"Get a message to the Kejians, we need a full overview of their defenses. Better yet, see if they can send an official or two to this hotel."

"So, you need assistance with the bombers?"

Eisendorff took this one. "Yes. Our fightars are guarding zhe border, but vee don't know if zey can handle ze return."

Tyshchenko waved for a lieutenant. "Our carriers are still offloading to local airbases, right?"

"Yessir."

"How many are left?"

"Galkin's unloaded fifteen, Kosaryov's unloaded twenty."

"Alright. Keep Galkin unloading, but dispatch squadrons from Kosaryov." Tyshchenko turned back to the Wankans. "How many bombers are there?"

"Vee estimate twenty-four."

"Dispatch two squadrons, focus on larger clusters."

"Roger that," barked the lieutenant before leaving.

"So, now that that's finished, what are your plans for your ground and naval forces?"

NPS Kosaryov
Approaching the Port of Byeka
The People's Republic of Kejia

Dmitry Kapralov was not a military sort of man. Rather, he was an airman.

Nicknamed "The Prodigy of the Sky" by the local newspaper, Dmitry learned to fly when he was seven and was a better pilot than his father by the age of twelve. By the age of fourteen he was performing air shows to pay for a limousine to prom, and eagerly looking into commerical piloting.

Then, like all other Nerotysian boys, he was drafted into basic training at sixteen, and he fell in love with military flying. To his romantic eye it seemed so much a collage of daring and danger, a kaleidoscope of excitement. So, when basic training ended and he was given the choice of whether or not to continue serving, he chose to enter the air force. He was going to be the next Red Baron, he was set on it. Ignoring his distraught parents he energetically pursued his new goal.

But combat was different, and as the mountains of Kejia approached in the distance Kapralov felt his stomach bubble more and more. Perenially he stood at the railing of the balcony that wrapped around the briefing room, looking out at the dizzying mountaintops and wondering what his fate held. He could be rather absent-minded, though, so he stood at the railing for hours.

"Private Kapralov," came a voice behind him, and swiftly Dmitry turned and crisply saluted. "At ease." It was his squadron commander, First Lieutenant Dyomin, a veteran as rugged as the Kejian mountains that Kapralov turned to examine once again.

"We've got orders. A group of bombers are inside PROK airspace. Prepare for immediate takeoff." Kapralov felt the bubbling turn into boiling. Breathing deeply he composed his face - showing fear was unsoldierly, and would demoralize the troops. That message had been pounded into him since day one of basic.

"Yessir. I'll be ready, sir." He turned to leave but Dyomin caught his arm as he brushed past.

"The trick is to think mechanical. Deconstruct the situation and just do the job scientifically. Store away your emotions for later." Dmitry looked back in shock at the breach of protocol and Dyomin smiled. "You're one of the best pilots I've seen in a while. Don't want you choking."

Gulping hard, Dmitry nodded and left quickly, leaving Dyomin wondering if he'd done more harm than good.

by **Republic of Kejia** » Sun Jan 25, 2015 3:29 pm

"The Black Swan", Coordinates 092067
1050 Hours
6th Kejian Motoriseeritud Jalaväerügement, 3rd Company, 1st Platoon, 2nd Squadron, 4th Team, Lance Corporal Sekiaj Mojre

The 6th had advanced at a rapid speed as they quickly ran over a IRAK Patrol, who could only put up limited resistance before being absolutely crushed. Mojre sat inside of his APC, waiting patiently for the APC to stop to allow his team to dismount. The roads were horrible, thankfully the durable yet partially outdated Ontorisa equipment held up against the incredibly difficult Kejian terrain.

"All Viking callsigns, this is Viking 6. Be advised, we have new players moving into the fight. The local Strategic Air Command detachment that was in the Republic is moving out along with an AF Independent GCE. All units are to watch their fire and verify that their targets are friendly." A global communication came over Mojre's radio.

by **Lutvikkia** » Mon Jan 26, 2015 3:06 pm

3 DAYS TO KEJIA

As the fleet slid near silently in the cold clear crisp night, the watch was making its rounds, making sure the ships and their occupants were safely asleep.
Seaman Willsar Gaahth: "I am really surprised they brought the Shaunnan out of mothball."
Seaman Ikks Gahphall: "I know, it's not like battleships have much of a presence on the naval field."
The two sailors stood and watched the old girl bob and sway in the water. The majestic lines of the older battlewagons was pleasing to most Lutvikkians. Suddenly a mighty explosion occurred on the aft of the battleship, causing her to real to port. The explosion was large enough to blow off the aft turret into the water, damaging the port side extensively. As klaxons went off in succession down the fleet line, the collision alarm sounded on the battleship as she slowed visibly to a stop. Flames billows out of the many holes and ports, reaching heights of thirty feet.

THE DESTROYER ZALISH

Third officer Ryhllik: "Jesus wake the Captain! Helm get us in close, as close as you can."
Helmsman Dyllyard: "Aye sir."
As the klaxon sounded the response teams filled the halls.
Rad-com officer Pryillis: "This is not a drill, this is not a drill. All fire crews man your action stations, all fire crews man your action stations."
The heavy destroyer pulled along side, nearly colliding with the battleship, and fire teams began pouring water from sea hoses onto the fire.
Fire Chief Cycommb: "Pour it to her! Jastills, hit that three inch fifty!"
Time seems to stand still as the mighty ship burns. Crew scurry about her decks like ants on a disturbed hill. Orders are shouted and relayed up and down the two ships. The once proud vessel lists slowly to starboard as she takes on water from her wound, and the many hoses of the heavy destroyer. One of the troop ships pulls along side the battleships port side, taking on the non essential crew, and wounded. As day breaks over the ocean, the combatants show their wounds, as the last flames dwindle in mock reproach. Scooted, bruised and burnt, The crew of the three vessels stare wearily longing to drop into bed for some much needed rest, but the next task is about to begin. The long journey home.
Captain Bellthorne: "Well this is a fine example of how not to run a ship." As he stands on the bridge wing looking out to sea. His Yeoman, Thrandal, looks on awaiting orders.
Yeoman Thrandal: " It's not your fault sir..."
Captain Bellthorne: "It damn well is my fault!!" He takes a deep breath and continues. "It is the responsibility of the commanding officer to assume the yolk of deeds of the crew under his or her command. Ergo I am the commanding officer, it is my fault. I was going to retire with only one blemish upon my record, how do you think this will look?"
With all the preparations made for the journey home, the three vessels make their way back to their home port. The crews of the vessels pay tribute to their fallen comrade by performing a naval salute, where all off duty personnel line the rails, in dress uniform and salute, at attention. And the two split fleets make way in opposite directions.

THREE DAYS TO KEJIA

by **Valdiu** » Tue Jan 27, 2015 10:07 pm

10 MILES UP THE COAST FROM OKSBYRE - 1300 HRS
The whir of the CH-53E Super Stallions ferrying large equipment from the rear deck of the VCS Malakai to the beach easily overpowered the chatter of the troops aboard the LCACs.

This beaching was much more organized than that of Nicaro, with time to organize and conduct roll. Nobody suspected an attack this deep into enemy territory, but in case, AH-64Ds operating from the Halberd, a mile offshore, were keeping watch, while the F-12s held steady orbit above the beach area. A small tent nearby had maintained a limited order of rhyme and reason, while on the beach, the 750 men and 20 tanks regained their land legs. A few liaisons of the Republic's military were there, as they watched the unloading processes, and looked over the planning.

by **Murovanka** » Wed Jan 28, 2015 4:50 am

Kejiasburg, Joint Allied Command Center

”Herr Generalfeldmarschall, der General will von unserer Boden-und Marinenstrategie wissen.” said the translator to Eisendorff after the Nerotysian commander posed his question.

”Na gut… lassen Sie mich mal probieren…” replied Eisendorff, turning to Tyshchenko.

“Ahem… Sör Tyshchenko, our strategie ist simple. Ve vill först stop zheir… attack… with our truppen and try get… Martin, Luftüberlegenheit?”

“Ähh… Air superiority”

“Air süperotie over nordern Ketschija viff your help and ze front to help ze troops. Ve haff.. ahh.. more trupps coming but it vill take time. Around one week. Ze powerfül people mess up. But ve vill haff a Fallshirmjäger- ähh.. parachüte trupps- who are ze Wankers beste trupps. Sadly ve haff no good warships, so can not erect blockade of south. Our ships veel protect ze Hass Inseln and ze lines.. ähh.. zwischen?”

“Between. Herr Generalfeldmarschall, Ich kann’s übernehmen…”

”Nein, ich schaff’s schon. Siehst, er versteht. Sochhhy, Sör Tyshchenko. Betüveen ze Hass Inseln and Ketschija. Vot are your forces strength? Can you blockade süd- souff- Ketschika? Zhat wood be very, very helping.”

The Field Marshal coughed embarrassedly, hoping that Tyshchenko understood his babble. Unfortunately for him, what he said wasn’t exactly true. The reinforcements wouldn’t be arriving until by the earliest 2 weeks. The reason? The greatest scandal in the Volksstreitkräfte’s history. Commanders of regular divisions had been found to be faking readiness reports and the availability of war equipment. Troops which had been planned to be moved to Kejia via the Hass isles had to be quickly recalled. The thousands of tanks, aircraft and ammunition had to undergo inspection and verification that they wouldn’t blow up the crew on the battlefield. Broken tanks and malfunctioning equipment and ammunition were even found in the nations “quick reaction force”, the Schnelle Eingreifsbrigade, which was to be grounded until further notice and push up the deployment date indefinitely.

Luckily, of course, the 2nd Fallschirmjägerdivision (parachute division), like all other paratrooper divisions, was lightly equipped, its officers and troops the most experienced, loyal and honest in the VSK. However, they would take at least a week- their equipment and officers also had to be investigated and scrutinized- to arrive at Kejia. If the PROK was still standing.

by **The Strategic Air Command** » Mon Feb 02, 2015 4:38 pm

SAC Command Center, Republic of Kejia

General Horton looked at map projected on the wall of the room showing the location of the bombers now proceeding to their targets in the People's Republic of Kejia. As he watched the 24 blue icons inch ever closer to their destinations, Horton found his attention drawn to the red icons, representing enemy fighters, following the bombers in. “How do our boys look?” he asked one of the airmen sitting behind a console,

“Well sir,” the airman began, “SAM activity is low and whatever radar we do detect, we have been able to jam.”

“What about those fighters?” Horton asked,

“All the reports from the bombers are that they are simply shadowing us, occasionally pulling zoom climbs and firing off several missiles before returning to altitude. So far, we have been able to counter the majority of them, either with ECM or maneuvers, in fact, several crews are reporting hits with the Pye Wacket against the fighters, but there have been a few close calls.”

“What do you mean ‘close calls’?”

“Well…” suddenly one of the blue icons flickered off near the city of Elimua,

“Son of a bitch…” Horton swore, “What SAR assets do we have?”

“Um… Uh… SAR was going to arrive in a few days, best we can do is put a fighter overhead and inform our allies to the location of the crash and hope they can get to that area.”

“That’s going to have to do,” Horton said while rubbing his temples, “I know that no operation is ever clean, but I’d rather not start losing crews so early on.”

B-70 Valkyrie "Same Day Service", Over The People's Republic Of Kejia, Approaching Mavistar

The aircraft shook as another missile detonated off the starboard wing, thankfully far enough away to avoid any damage, “Scratch another one,” Lieutenant Duke called out, “Next time that bastard pops up, I’ll pop him with a Pye.” He said in regards to the Pye Wacket defensive missile carried on all B-70s.

“WSO to crew, prepare for bomb run T minus five minutes,” Lieutenant McDonnell announced as he activated the bomb radar and dialed in the location of the port,

“Hey Douggie,” Duke said from his station, “You got a good enough bead for a pickle barrel shot?”

“Trying to,” McDonnell said while not taking his eyes off the screen, “Must be a lot of containers down there, getting a strong ground return that should be enough to figure where the docks should be.” McDonnell continued to watch the screen as the computer handled the actual release, “WSO to crew, bombs away!”

With that, the bomb doors opened and the payload was released. As the 40,000 lbs of bombs fell earthward, their fins made minute corrections to ensure that the bombs stayed on course. Eventually, the port was carpeted with explosions.

“Pilot to crew,” Captain Wade said as he turned the aircraft, “Beginning turn for home.”

by **Lutvikkia** » Thu Feb 05, 2015 5:39 pm

12 NAUTICAL MILES 35 HOURS OUTSIDE KEJIAN TERRITORIAL WATERS

The fleet is approaching the territorial border, and the time has come to notify the command naval fleet.
Rad-com officer Eyvekk: " This is the LNN Lontonvarg CD-1007 responding on allied frequency 110.8 calling commanding allied forces vessels patrolling in the area of 312.4 by 18.6 degrees. Respond please.
Repeat.
This is the LNN Lontonvarg CD-1007 responding on allied frequency 110.8 calling commanding allied forces vessels patrolling in the area of 312.4 by 18.6 degrees. Respond please." The message continues for an hour. The XO steps into the radio room.
XO Panderson: "Any contact?"
Rad-com officer Eyvekk: " No."
XO Panderson: " Not even a search plane or picket ship?"
Rad-com officer Eyvekk: " No."
XO Panderson: "How about....."
Rad-com officer Eyvekk: " No." He pauses and looks the XO in the face and exhales. "No, sir no one has responded in any lingual code, encryption or even smoke."
XO Panderson: " Very well get me the carrier Lavandra."
Rad-com officer Eyvekk: "Edifice to Arm, Edifice to Arm, Two to confer."

ON THE LAVANDRA

Rad-com officer Jaillek: " Message from Edifice. Two to confer."
Yeoman Murrk: "Very well switch to encrypt-4 And pipe it to command."
Command: Captain Deyffuse: "Lima Alpha go for command."
XO Panderson: "We are approaching our waypoint with no recognition. I want to launch a package to confirm our allies are there."
Command: Captain Deyffuse: " Clear that launching a package with benefits."
On the flight deck:
Two sea Kestrals are elevated up to the flight line, as well as four drones. The Kestrials are launched, then the drones. The flight makes its way to the coast of Konia.

by **Valdiu** » Thu Feb 05, 2015 7:47 pm

"Marrit, anything?" "Nah, sir."

Lt. Marck Seffas of the 4th Platoon, 2nd Company, Kejian Expeditionary Task Force hated it. Hated everything. He hated the rain, the cold, his boots sploshing in the mud, the IFV breathing down their neck. He hated the gun's recoil, he hated the mission plans, he hated the company commander.

But he loved the military. "No place," he had once said. "No place I'd rather be."

Their task was to secure a supposed weapons cache on the other side of a small mountain. Small enough to be insignificant to the eggheads in Prevale, way too large for the eggheads in his platoon.

"Hold!" Pfc. Marrit said. The platoon raised their rifles instinctively. Seffas' finger hovered over the trigger. The IFV, already at a snail's pace, stopped. "What?" "Do you hear it?" "No, what is-" A slight rustling entertained Seffas' ears. He cautiously cocked his head, signaling the 20-man platoon to form up on him. The IFV's autocannon anxiously tracked them. "Set burst, weps free if confirm." Seffas said. "A squad, investigate. B squad, stay here." Alpha Squad cautiously approached the forest along the side of the road, while Bravo Squad shuffled into defensive positions on top of it.

by **The Strategic Air Command** » Thu Feb 05, 2015 11:59 pm

Somewhere Outside Elimua…

Captain Fred Harper was having a bad day. He didn’t mind the fact that he had to eject from his bomber while it was going mach 3 at over 70,000 feet, he was trained for that and the B-70’s escape capsule worked perfectly, nor did he mind the fact that he was in the woods, he rather enjoyed the outdoors and was an assistant scoutmaster back home, rather he was more angry that they never reached the target, a tank farm outside the PROK capital. “Hey, Fred,” a voice whispered from behind him, “I need to take a break.”

Harper looked over his shoulder at Lieutenant Nick Pearce, normally their WSO, holding the bottom two poles of the makeshift stretcher carrying their bomber’s unconscious pilot, Major Dave Walker. “Yah, let’s take five.” Harper knew the most important thing for them was to keep moving, but after at least 2 ½ miles, they needed a break. “Where do you figure we are Bob?” Harper asked Lieutenant Bob Fleming, their DSO, while stretching his arm,

“Hold on, I need to take a bearing,” Fleming said taking a compass and map out of his flight suit’s pocket, “How’s Dave?”

Harper felt for a pulse and listened for Walker’s breathing, “Weak but steady,” He needs more help than just first aid kits. Harper thought, “So… do you have a fix yet?”

“I’ve been trying to keep us on a heading towards Kamik,” Fleming said rubbing his left arm, “That’ll at least take us out of Indian country.”

Harper looked at the map and said nothing, based on the progress the group was making; he figured that it would take at least another full day, possibly more, to reach friendly lines, though with the speed of the allied advance, those were no doubt fluid at the moment. He looked at his watch, they had to keep moving if they were to be rescued, and he figured that if they put at least another mile behind them, they could try the radio. He was about to give the order when Pearce spoke up,
“Listen…I thought I heard something,” Pearce said unhooking the clasp on his holster, “Engine noises, getting closer.”

Harper didn’t doubt him; Pearce could hear a pin drop across a room on a good day, soon enough he heard it too.

“What do you think?”

“Could be the lead element of an allied advance,” Harper said quietly, “We could be crossing the front line right now. Could even be a civie, there’s enough trees for a logging operation here.”

“Or it could be the commies falling back.” Fleming said rather bluntly, “Right on top of us. It’s your call Freddy”

Harper weighed their options. Normally the goal in escape and evasion, was escape and evasion, not seeking out contact with anything. However his attention was drawn back to Major Walker, lying on the stretcher made out of parachute fabric and thin trees, “Dave needs help, regardless if it’s a red cross or a red star. I’ll go ahead, if any of you want to bug out before I get back, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“No way man,” Pearce said, “We’re all in this mess together, and we would never leave anyone behind.”

Fleming nodded in agreement

“Well, it’s settled then,” Harper said, unslinging the double barreled survival rifle from across his shoulders and propping it up against a tree, he didn’t need it anyway. After all, it was best suited for shooting game with either a .410 shot shell or a .22 hornet round, not for direct combat, and certainly not against armor “Time to meet the neighbors.”

Harper walked the short distance towards where the noise came from, hearing the sound of people moving around, he pulled the blood chit from one of his flight suit’s pockets, raised his hands and stepped forward. “Captain Frederick Harper, Strategic Air Command,” he said, “I have a wounded man who needs immediate medical treatment.” Harper looked at the soldiers pointing rifles at him, and hoped that they were on his side.

by **Murovanka** » Fri Feb 06, 2015 7:41 am

Above PROK Airspace
IV./Mischgeschwader Kejia

First, the pilots had to watch in dismay as missiles exploded in mid-air or veered far off course, as if guided by God himself. And then came the unexpected missile counterattack. Somehow, the bombers had managed to achieve a missile lock on the attacking fighters and released their own wave of air to airs. The fighters scattered, diving and jinking downward, all the while letting chaff and flares create clouds of gray and red behind them.

Six ZiG-29’s spiraled down to the ground, accompanied by 4 slower-falling parachutes. Another two, in their radical maneuvers to shake the missiles, suffered engine failures. Both pilots managed to eject in time.

The whole incident was watched with great disbelief from the command center in Kejiasburg. His face turning purple in anger, Eisendorff called the defense ministry headquarters back in Kronstadt.

”Acht Zicken für einen Bomber. Achtundvierzig Lenkflugkörper wurden verschossen. Eine traf. Zwei Verluste durch Triebwerkausfall nachdem die Piloten gaanz einfache Manöver durchführt haben. Ich will eine unverzügliche und gründliche Untersuchung der ganzen Zickojan-Gurewitsch Dreiundzwanzig und Neunundzwanzigerflotten, und alle Luft-Luft Lenkflugkörper die wir als ‘Einsatzbereit’ bezeichnen. Teilen Sie Verteidigungsminister von Schleier mit, dass kein EINZIGER Kampfjet zum Einsatz kommt bevor diese Sache geklärt ist, egal was passiert. Ich erwarte das Untersuchungsteam.”

Meanwhile, his officers informed their allies of the situation. Search and rescue teams were dispatched to locate the friendly and enemy pilots.

Return to the Den - The 2nd Kejian War [OPEN|MT|IC]

Return to the Den - The 2nd Kejian War [OPEN|MT|IC]

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