Dralka, Keep of the Ascendent
Averi read through two most recent messages as morning light filled her office. The two see considered real threats were the Cenerians, and more recently the Scandovans. The Creatlens were a different story entirely, but if the created a coalition, she knew it would be a powerful force, a force not easily taken down and removed. The Creatlens were at best in her mind, evenly matched, the thing giving them the edge being the fact that if they wished to attack the Dralkars directly that they would be navigating through dangerous waters, and easy pickings for an air attack in mass, not to mention miles upon miles of frozen plains. She had the messages surrendering the Thera Abis, and the Avon sal to their Federation, that was one advantage she had here.
The lands she currently desired were under their control by terms, but a volatile peace as not something to play around with. She had to ensure her control of the oil-fields within the Thera Abis were maintained, the Avon Sal was mainly a message to the Jalkans. The Jalkans had abused their ability to get whatever terms they had wanted in the Second War, and that meant that the Federation had been forced to pay for a war they had not begun. The Dralkar were not a people to forget wrongs, and they were not quick to forgive them. The Marshall knew that, but she did not want to use it, at the very least, yet.
She had to find a way to make the greater powers of the outsiders forget about their nation, and the last thing she needed was an open war when she was in the middle of improving upon the armed forces. The nation did not have the have the sheer power needed to keep up an elongated conflict, but she did not care if these messages were kept private. Most messages to the government were already fairly public, their senders just kept anonymous. She just had to please them, keep them unaware of the nature of what was happening on the continent, and keep the outsiders separated from Niskas, but she had to way no do the latter. She began her letter in reply, but she tried as best she could to keep the barbs she felt for the King of Jalka as silent as possible.
The troops were already consolidating their acquired territory, preparing it for defense, and helping towns and the single city get war damages fixed and any aid needed, brought in.
Twenty Miles south-west of Frozenheart, Fort Ancras
The area was ice-mountains. There was not a better to describe them. They were jagged, pointed, and all too deadly spires of ice that were as tall as small mountains, the largest being slightly taller. Here, near the frozen caverns of the Avon Sa, was the base that was the center of the training of the men and women at arms.While Lukas Adrana had on a technical note been conscripted, he had requested personally to be trained as a volunteer would be, and it had taken the notice of the commanders of the base, and he officially was enlisted as a volunteer for that reason, and his request accepted on the terms that he would serve for at least four years.
“Attention!” Lukas looked like he belonged in uniform. He was broad, muscular, and fit, as he stood at attention, the drill sergeants boots making ringing noises through the metal barracks every time he took a step, between the lines of recruits, the trainer was going to have to weed through them all.
The drill sergeant looked calmer than normal, his grey eyes not seeming to have fires burning behind them. His face was not as hard set as normal, but it was only two weeks into their training, they had a long way to go. They all looked straight ahead, knowing that if the followed the drillers pacing their would be consequences for all of them.
“Weakness, will not, can not be tolerated on the battle field. Strength will be your shield when all hell breaks loose, and the people you trained with are the on the ground near you motionless.” The man’s voice was coarse and hard. “You will be brought up , and I suspect no more than sixty percent of you will still be here, the rest of you being too weak to get any farther. Today I have a little test for you all, we are going to be going on a ‘little’ hike.” All the soldiers gave an inward groan, knowing what ‘little’ was in the mind of Sergeant Davon. They all knew what would happen if someone actually had groaned, the sergeant would have added only a ‘small’ distance to their hike.
“Today is going to a bit harder than the normal one as well. Full weight of the gear you would be deployed with. Remember, you all get one canteen, and a water purifier. We move out in ten minutes, at ease, and prepare yourselves!” The sergeant left the room, but most of the soldiers kept quiet.
Lukas filled up the thirty ounce canteen that all of them got, and adorned his winter battle gear, a snow camouflage combat jacket over a insulating wool shirt and a thermal vest, with a bullet proof vest beneath. Training was brutal for all branches of the military, and everyone knew the air force was one of the hardest to get into of all of them. Adrana would have liked to say he hated training, but he didn’t. He found it cleared his mind and helped him focus in his aggressive nature.
Out of an original eleven hundred recruits, after two weeks, nine hundred remained. It was a system meant to break those who were not both mentally and physically tough enough. The Dralkar military based itself upon the principles of strength that had made the small country a force to reckoned with in the past. It was a training program that was created to make the nation’s small population into a people capable of fighting much larger forces.
The hike began and they headed for the ice spires. It was one of Davon’s favorite places to place his hikes because the cold mixed with the tough march through them made for some of the hardest places to train through. Davon’s recruits always came out tougher than the other trainers’, and he prided himself with that. Those who made it through his training were more intimidating for new soldiers than most people could have thought possible.
As the weight of full combat gear began to takes it’s toll, more than one canteen became emptied, some of them even wished they could drop their assault rifles, but of they did it meant three days of being worked out of your life for dropping it, with the simple excuse of it made them tired. If their was a legitimate reason, the harsh sergeant would probably make you do the cardio and staminal parts of the days, all you got out of was the strength part of it.
Many of the men started repeating the motto of the army like some sort of creed. “Through strength I gain valor, through valor I gain honor.” Over and over again. After they had hiked ten miles, after four to five hours, there were twenty less recruits then what they had started the day with, although one of those was because of a physical injury after a section of rock embedded in the spires came loose and tumbled down the side of the the ice, which would keep him in the infirmary for a broken leg and two broken ribs for a good month or two. Needless to say he was not going to be entering the graduation from the training with his current battalion.
Lukas himself started humming the tune of a song that his mother had enjoyed. The song gave him motivation to keep going, more so for the memory of his lost mother. He slowly sipped at the canteen he had. The hike round trip had lasted twenty hours hours, and had taken them a total of forty miles, twenty out, twenty back. A total of one hundred had been removed from training, the remainder were exhausted when they made it back. Even Davon had pushed himself. He had said that following day would be their day for rest. Most of them would sleep for the better part of hit. He had weeded out the ones he saw as weak in the first two weeks, and he knew that his battalion would likely number about six hundred when he was finished with them, and had already recognized a few faces of those had tried and been removed the first time being able to remain, others he had removed.
Adara was beyond ready for a rest when they got back.
To: The Capitalist Republic of Scandova
From: The Federation of Dralka
Dear whom it may concern,
My forces have already begun their withdrawal, but I will not concede the lands of my forebears, which have been granted to the Federation by their respective governments. If you wish to create a demilitarized zone, I will allow it, but if their are any signs of forces from your respectable nation or that of the Nation of Ceneria, we will not not hesitate to prepare for battle.
The honor of my people demands that the Avon Sal which was unrightfully taken, and unlawfully taken by the Kingdom of Jackla during the Second War, be kept under our control. Inhabitants that are Jalkan and from other nations are welcomed to stay in the territories surrendered to the Federation, but if they wish to leave they may do it freely.
May God Help your Nation prosper,
My Good Will, despite the situation,
Sincerely,
(Lady) Marshall Averi Zambelse