A New Star on the Firmament [attn: Quazira, Menelmacar]

[Allanea]

OOC: Written in collaboration with Quazira and Menelmacar

IC:

Somewhere in the South Prussian Sea, Aboard the BIS Morrighan

THe Freestian-built missile destroyer - really, a heavy cruiser marketed as a destroyer by enterprising Freestian shipwrights - sat low in the water, its hull painted in menacing dark grey in Blaken Island service. On its prow hung the Star-Crown flag of Allanea, and the black banner of Blaken Island - a skull and two crossed scalpels. On the stern, just near the helipad, one could see a table set for four.

At its head sat a woman in a black military jacket and a short paramilitary leather skirt. There was even a short black cape, and a curved skimitar at the woman’s side. On her head, she wore a simple gold circlet, a gift she had received at her wedding from the Elentári of Menelmacar - a clear sign of her status, which was quite sufficient in her mind to identify her - Cassiopeia Blaken-Kazansky, Queen of Allanea, Empress of Greater Prussia.

Her title was, at once, more and less than it seemed. More - because it announced her as the leader of one of the mightiest alliances that had ever strode the Earth. Less - because she shared the throne with her husband, and because the Emperor of Greater Prussia shared his rule with members of the Greater Prussian Triad - the Inspector-General of Greater Prussia, and the Arch-Chancellor. It was only together that the three mighty powers, Allanea, Menelmacar, and C’tan, wielded the crown and scepter of Greater Prussia.

Next to her sat the representative of one of the other Triad members, Lady Naerdiel nos Fithurin. While not formally an ambassador, in many respects she was the Elentári’s instrument in Greater Prussia. Her hair was a gleaming copper-red, and her eyes piercing emeralds of green, and she carried herself with a certain regal self-assurance common to those who had lived for millennia and in that time had rarely been wrong about much of anything. She too, was armed, as most Menelmacari usually were, a heavy plaspistol on one hip, somehow graceful despite its size, and on the other the slim, straight sword that she favored. She wore an elegant circlet of mithril, and an equally elegant gown in blue and silver, and sipped at a glass of white wine.

Served at their table was a succulent, dark-grey steak, with a few stalks of asparagus, some small potatoes served in their skin, and of course some lemon. The steak, if someone had inquired, was no mere beef but from the great moose of Northern Prussia. The Allaneans were no great masters of elaborate sauces, but they did love their meat, as did of course their Menelmacari friends.


The Crown Princess was a bit late, 'that damned helicopter' she thought to herself, it was one of the older models, acquired shortly after the begin of the rebellion.

Now she strode towards her destination. A green dress trailing behind her.
Not much would give away that she was noble, no luxury, no jewels, for a neutral observer she was a young woman in the 20s with long black hair that was put into a braid and a heavy tan.

What gave away her heritage was the way she acted, head raised and her blue eyes shining with a passion unknown to normal people, a perk that was a clear result of her heritage.
She had a mission and she would fulfil it soon enough. Her homelands, her home were nearly at the horizon, it would only took a few maneuvers, a few well calculated steps to achieve the goal.


Two steps behind her a man in his late 40s tried to hold her pace. He wore full decorations, declaring him as a general. Finally they reached the boat’s stern and were greeted by two guards.

“Gentlemen, I believe I'm expected, Crown Princess Sibyll of Quazira and Alexander Green, General of the Free Quaziran Army.“ Her tone was soft but everyone could hear the steel behind it.

The guards held their heavy rifles at port arms, the weapons clanking slightly as they greeted the Crown Princess.

“GOOD MORNING, YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS!” - the two men belted out, in a practiced tone.

“Please, please sit with us, my dear,” - said Cassiopeia, pointing the Princess to her seat. “And you too, General Green. This here is Privy Councilor Naerdiel nos Fithurin, she is the representative of the Office of the Inspector-General of Greater Prussia and of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar. I trust her judgement absolutely, and in time I believe you will learn to trust it as well. Please, please sit down, there is delicious moose steak.”

Naerdiel gave the guests a nod, “Welcome, Princess Sibyll, General Green. Please join us.”

With a slight smile she took her seat while General Green made a slight bow towards the Queen before he took his seat.


Then the princess spoke “ Thank you your highness, Privy Councilor, I believe we will have a good cooperation. I heard a few stories from your prior…. engagements and they only reinforced my intentions to attend this meeting. General Green here is my most trusted advisor, he’s subjected to the training of the army we build to end the oppression in my home country.”


She took a good pile of the meat.


The General took over, “ It’s a honour to attend this meeting, I’m sure it will be marked as the start of a new chapter in Quazirans history.” He took less meat than the queen, after that much years in military service you’re stomach was accustomed to spare rations.

For a few minutes, Cassiopeia remained silent, allowing the Quazirans to enjoy the meat, and then spoke. “Your Highness, perhaps you should tell us more about your country. I am sure it is beautiful,” she said encouragingly. “And it will be a good way for us to decide what to do.”

Now the Crown Princess was in her element.

“ Mostly I recall the stories of my mother, we fled nearly two decades ago. Quazira is a large Island situated near the equator. A tropical area mostly with quite a few mountains. For several centuries we had a good life since we destroyed the burden of colonization but 60 years ago the now ruling Party took power over the nation and changed everything.

That was the beginning of the problems we have today.

We took shelter in a Vale for years, isolated from the rest of the country but 10 years ago our village was raided.

Only then we recognized what changed over the course of the last decades. My older Sister organized a boat to flee and during the last years she organized the resistance.

From what my mother told me, most Quaziran worked in the mines or in the factories before the great change, today you will be lucky to find more than a few intact factories, credit to several attempts of rebellions over the years.” She stopped at this point, tried to speak again but for the second time she couldn’t find the right words.

Green took her place after a few seconds.

“The situation is critical for most people, most people are either working in the agricultural sector or they are joining the army. the second option requires ‘mandatory education’, after a few years most of them are fanatics.

Still the Army is in a awful despair right now, from what I heard most of the equipment is fixed with nothing more than duct tape and spittle.

Most people aren’t lucky enough to get a boat towards the Isabella Archipelago, our home base ~ 500 miles from the main land. It’s estimated that 50 000 people died out of hunger last year. Not to mention the ‘traitors’ that are executed, if they are lucky. The ones who aren’t lucky enough will be enslaved.

The same fate goes to everyone who breaks the new code of law regarding families and the role of women. I believe in less than 10 years most of the country will be depopulated.” His look was grave as he mentioned all this facts.

“ We would be much more people if we would have the option to take missions towards Quazira but right now we are limited to 3000 men.”

“Three thousand men?” - Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow.

“That doesn’t give you much to work with at all,” Naerdiel frowned. “And the task is great. Not only must this ruling party be dealt with, but if I am not mistaken there are also considerable humanitarian crises to deal with as well as infrastructure to rebuild.”

“ Well as I said, we can’t just take the battle to Quazira right now. We will have help once we are there but, well the last ships who took refuges were destroyed, taking 1200 souls with them.
There is one fact that will help us greatly, the environment, as her highness said there are several mountains not to mention the jungle.


Once we are past the coast line there won’t be battles with many combatants. My men are trained for battles like that, we have experience from such encounters in the past.
Also I’m sure that we will have the advantage of technology.


Quazira is an international Pariah right now that means no one sold them any kind of weapon since the 1950s, they may have some guns smuggled into the country but I doubt they would have an adequate Air Force. If nothing changed they are still using the old Fighter from the 50s with slight modifications but shouldn’t be a match for a decent jet-fighter.
The main problem in the process of creating a beach head is the navy, they build new ships a few years ago, still not up to date but enough to destroy anything a militia could afford.”
The princess nodded.
“ Also one of our problems is that we were without support in the past, we don’t had a clear strategy for winning this war and the only thing we could use for motivating the troops were the faint hope to achieve the unthinkable.
The fact that I’m sitting here today seemed impossible 5 years ago.”

“What is the disposition of the government’s forces?” Naerdiel asked. “Their approximate number, readiness, deployment, distribution, and so forth. As far as you are currently aware, of course.”

“ Right now ? Approximately 250 000 men on active duty, if they got enough time to mobilize the reserves they could field 2 million men, maybe 3. If they are desperate maybe 5 but after this number they would get logistical problems. 70 % of all troops are reported to be stationed near the major cities. That would be Port Isabella, the Capital Silberberg, Port Quazira and North Point. The rest are distributed in the rural areas of the Island.
This facts were retrieved two months ago so they should be accurate enough for planing purpose.”

“I don’t see why this should be a problem militarily,” - said Cassiopeia. “But before we go anywhere, I’d like to know what you plan to do with the country when you win.”

The Princess nodded her head. “ A valid question your highness, one that I discussed in length with my sister. We agreed that we should take up the legacy of our mother. Our first step would be the involvement of the international society. Probably as soon as my sister received her crown in the official ceremony.


After that we will need to rebuild what was laid waste for the last decades. We have the potential, gold mines, demanded products like coffee and tobacco, with international help we could double the HDI within a year.


We would reinstate the old political system that was destroyed by the current rulers, including a few safe guards to prevent what happened in the past and over time we would reform the whole country.


We would build a sixth federation of Quazira so to speak, the sixth reformation since we declared independence in the 17th century. Quazira was an open country for nearly 300 years and that’s a legacy we will hold dear in the future.“

“All noble goals, of course,” Naerdiel answered, “I presume naturally that you will of course also uphold the economic and civil rights of the population?” she continued, “in the long history of Menelmacar we have found that the prosperity of a people is best secured by offering them the liberty to maximize their potential.”

“ Naturally we will uphold the goals of freedom and liberty, including a free market and the freedom of choice, that is why we fight against our oppressors, that’s why I’m here and that’s why my Sister took risk after risk establishing the resistance.

Our goal is a parliamentary monarchy, not an absolutistic which was abolished in the second Federation. I can assure you every men and women will have the choice to live their life as long as they don’t try to oppress their peers.

It will take time of course, 2 generations were raised by an dictatorship. But I hope that we will have a democratic country that will be a star at the firmament of democracy within a few years. The basics of a democratic concept should be introduced within the first 6 months however, some things shouldn’t be delayed.”

“I feel this is reasonable.” - Cassiopeia says. “I’m going to issue an executive order to have an Air Regiment - that is to say, twenty-five aircraft, and their supporting logistics troops - assigned to aid your cause. Later on I will send more troops but for now you understand my desire to see for myself the effectiveness of your men. In addition I will send to the island a shipment of weapons from the Greater Prussian stockpiles, provided of course that the Inspector-General of Greater Prussia,” - that meant, of course, the Elentári of Menelmacar - approves. “Is that fair?”

For a moment the eyes of the general began to shine. But the Princess took lead again. “ This would be a great help to our cause and you’re doing a deed that will be never forgotten by every upright Quaziran., However we would need some method to bring them to Quazira, as I mentioned we don’t have a Navy to compare with the oppressors. Also I’m a realist, what will be your price once this war is over?”

“An excellent question,” answered Lady Naerdiel, “though the war is only the first chapter, as we are also, very likely, prepared to help you rebuild afterwards. Such logistical challenges are a Menelmacari specialty and we would offer you a similar deal as we offered to the Crystal Spires of D’halbrisir under similar circumstances. Simply put, Menelmacari contractors would rebuild your national infrastructure and this would be paid for by the Menelmacari government. In return, we would ask from you not a loan -- we understand that in troubling times cash is king, and hard to come by -- but rather trade concessions that would, over time, reimburse us. In the process you would build trade and business relationships that would last much longer than this arrangement and enrich your people for generations to come. It’s pretty much win-win, and I am sure the Allaneans would offer you similar terms in exchange for their involvement. Of course I cannot directly make this pact now, but must consult with my government; nonetheless I have little doubt they will ratify it.”

For a few seconds the princess was speechless. “ This terms are more then generous me lady, I’m sure my Sister would ratify a treaty like that for all Quazirans as soon as she is crowned and for the resistance as soon as she have the treaty. The gods know we will have difficult times rebuilding the area on our own.
However there will be one condition. You said it yourself it’s important that we reform Quazira towards a democratic country. This means we can’t accept anything that would give an foreign power a monopoly towards our resources. I hope you understand that. Beside of this clause I’m sure we can agree towards a treaty like that.”

“We Menelmacari are not interested in monopolizing your resources, of course, though naturally we would want to profit from them along with you, and to build a close and friendly relationship,” Naerdiel answered. “The Spireans had similar concerns, of course, and this treaty would be modeled on the one we made with them.”

“My main desire,” - Cassiopeia said, “is to build a friendly and equitable relationship with the future Quaziran government, hopefully moving on to a full alliance once it matures and stands firmly on its two feet. The world is a safer and better place for Allaneans if there are more free countries in it.”

“ These are terms who will have our support. I will discuss matters with my sister once she returns from her trip. You don’t have to fear, you will gain your profits. After all we had an output of 800 tons Gold per year before the change occurred, in a few years you will have 10-20 Million Customers for your products, not to mention the fact that the last evaluation of resources was 60 years ago.”

As for an alliance, as I said we are in a debt we can never fully repay. Also as a land that was oppressed not one but two times in his history we will support any movement who would fight against oppressors around the world. We will be a star on the firmament and this star will shine brightly again one day.”

“I hope you are right.” -said Cassiopeia said with a smile. “Now, let us enjoy this delicious moose. It has given its life to be tasty.”
Naerdiel nodded, and raised her glass. “A toast, then, to liberty, prosperity, and new friends.”

“To liberty and prosperity!” - said Cassiopeia Blaken-Kazansky, raising her glass.

The Princess raised her Glass “ to liberty and prosperity.”

General Green added. “ And to new allies.”
After the plate was clear both guests took a third pile and the General seemed to greatly warm up with his hosts.
In the end he was right, this was an historical meeting, probably remembered for many generations as the true start of the sixth federation of Quazira.

[Quazira]

five days later:

The clearing that was used as an airfield was under high frequenzy, several dozen men were clearing the ground while several buildings were created.
When a helicopter became visible it only added to the chaos. Soon enough the work came to an hold and a delegation of 12 high decorated officers accompanied by Crown Princess Sibylle waited patiently to recall the good news.
Queen Isabella V was not in a happy mood, not after a trip of nearly 12 hours in an army helicopter.
Still in her thirties she was a beauty and she knew that.
She nodded towards her sister and raised an eyebrow towards the rest of the officers.
" Any reason for this... commotion ? That sounds like we were building a complete new headquarter !"
" Sort of your majesty, the mission of her grace was a success."
" You mean ?"
" Yep big sister, we are getting help, 25 Fighter and a regiment for starters but that's ennough to take the fight towards Quazira we will get our homeland back."
" After all this years..."
" Her legacy will be restored."
" And what was the price for that, what kind of general is now signing a marriage contract ?"
" Nothing so drastic, I know that would be your approach. We have much to discuss so walk with me for a while, I suggest General Green would be a huge help."

Two hours later:

A blushing general arrived several minutes earlier at the headquarter than the rest of the group. The Queen had not changed, not at all, this trips were one of the worse ones.
Finally he could hear the two last member of House Quadira chatting like mad. " And you really did that ?"
" I swear on the grave of mother little sister. Allthough I don't want to repeat THAT."
Sibyll simply nodded. And was under way to start another barrel of questions when General Green interrupted them. " Not to be rude your grace but we have matters of great importance to discuss, Allanean troops will arrive in roughly 2 days. We should prepare anything before they arrive. Right now we are building temporarily quarters for 6000 men. They should be complet the first area within the week and..."
" General Green, you're doing just fine, everything will fall into piece once the Allanean troops are here." She used her most famous smile, the one she acquired during her rebellous phase. " Everything is fine thanks to my little sister."
Indeed everything would be fine soon enough...

[Allanea]

The Allaneans began to arrive only very gradually, certainly the aircraft for which the Fighter Air Regiment has gotten its name were nowhere insight. The items that would make their appearance would be a bit more prosaic for now. Hardy men and women, in field uniforms, armed not merely with rifles (though one could hardly imagine an Allanean soldier without one, but with power tools and light bulldozers, tractors and trucks, went to work on the freshly-cleared ground. They were very grateful to the locals for having cleared the ground and put up barracks for them - indeed, Colonel Kimsky, the Regiment Commander, gave a brief and polite speech thanking the Quazirans for their help.

The Allaneans worked slowly - normally an Air Regiment could set up an airfield within eight hours, but there was no need for such drastic measures. They had time, and used this time carefully. Within the first day of work, they unfolded several portable runways, creating a space on which their aircraft could land in the future.

On the second day, they set up a RADAR station and several large, inflatable hangars. There the planes - still not here - would be sheltered from the weather. Inflatable mockups were also put up, looking - from a distance at least - quite a bit like real fighter planes. For a surprise enemy attack, it would be hard to tell the real planes apart from the fake ones.

On the third day, the planes landed on the runway. They were not very advanced, but frankly they did not need to be, sufficient only for dominance against what was expected the backwards enemy. Still this wasn’t sufficient to commence operating.

For three more days, cargo planes took off and landed, leaving behind large shipping containers. These were quickly moved, by truck and crane, to positions around the runway. Some were emptied immediately, their components placed in ready positions within the hangars. Every day, the camp seemed to grow more complex, more prepared.

Outside the camp perimeter, trench positions were dug. The fighter air regiment had, of course, only about three dozens actual fighter pilots. The others were support troops - people who built the runways, cleaned and fixed the planes, and, of course, protected them, sitting in trenches with machine guns, walking patrols, keeping vigilant watch day and night. It was known that the Quaziran regime was poor, but it was also ruthless and fanatical. Therefore, a sabotage mission against the regiment could not be discounted.

On the seventh day, finally, Colonel Kimsky looked out on the positions of his Regiment, and he saw that it was good.

[Quazira]

At the first day, the men and women were greeted like the war was actually over.
Many of the Quaziran Soldiers had heard rumored about a new force joining their cause, some had believed them but mostly they were to disappointed by the general progress of the liberation and the promisses they received before.
To see this men and women arrive was something different, they weren't a story fabricated out of promisses they were real, everyone could see and hear them.
So there were many helping hands from the beginning and everyone could feel a boost in moral long before the first actual fighters on the new airbase.
General Green took care of the shards and material, giving the Allanean troops as much details as possible, including the details for the new destroyer class that was introduced by the Quaziran Government 6 years ago.
By the end of the second week the whole camp had received a major boost as Green had drilled his soldiers mercilessly.
When Colonel Kimsky gave his ok the free Quaziran Army could took real pride for the first time in a long history. Now they had a real chance.
Unbeknown the new alliance would take her baptism of fire soon ennough.

The City of Silberberg - Military Council:
The former royal palace was one of the few buildings that was still in good shape. This was the prestigious seat of the Militarian Junta the 'Party of Militarian Patriots' had formed. Normally the palace was a quite place but not today, several cars had spilled the members of the closest Circle around President Chavez. All of them decorated officers and all of them were not amused about the events that unfolded near their coast.
In the end they came together in the former throne room, now filled with paintings of great Quaziran Generals. While a slave served them cold water The Prime Minister explained the situation.
" Since last week we have high traffic from and towards the Island of Dragonia within the Isabella Archipelago. These traffic occurs mostly by plain and the constructions are of unknown nature. We expect an Invasion within the next month judging from the frequency so we have still time. This pictures were taken from a fisher boat two days ago."
Murmurs of 'impossible' and 'no propeller' made the round.
" As you can see gentlemen we must act now. Our analysts determined that these objects are not designed for combat so you can estimate what kind of damage a dozen combat ready fighters could do."
" Are they from the resistance ?" One of the generals asked.
" That's not confirmed so far. We are scheduling scout missions right now, Our P-51 should return within the day."
For the first time the President rised. " Your suggestions Prime Minister ?"
" Complete Mobilization, we must prepare ourself for what ever they are up to. Also I suggest that we evacuate the cities in case they try to target..."
" You want to scare our people ? That's nonsense. I give you a partly mobilization. Make sure a million soldiers are ready until the end of the month. If the problem escalats we can discuss your idea again."
" Any news from this Slut Isabella ?"
" She was abroad Mr. President, her sister as well. I'm pretty sure that this activities will lead us to the resistance." The minister of Informations Charles Ward explained.
" We estimate that there base must be located within this areal. He pointed to a 20 mile square. " Hopefully the P-51s will return with good news. I suggest we put the navy on alarm status as well, we have 12 Chavez Class Destroyers ready after all."
" Do that Ward, I want results within the end of the week." His anger clearly audible by now. Most of the generals took this as a sign to leave and the braver ones followed suit. Once he was alone with the slave girl who still waitet patiently he turned to her
" As for you, you will stay behind." The fear in her eyes were clearly visible...

2 hours later Allanean Airbase, Flight Control:
The freshly installed radar sprung to live when four objects crossed the screen. The points clarifying them as air crafts roughly the size a fighter plane within a distance of roughly 80 miles...

[Allanea]

Positions of the 458th Fighter Air Regiment

The tent itself was a comfortable enough place, for a tent at least – air-conditioned, with a large air conditioning unit filling the tent's entire interior with chilly, dry air. About two dozen officers – primarily pilots – sat on folding chairs within the tent, as Colonel Kimsky pointed a laser pointer at a large, rollout screen on which he was busily projecting a slideshow. An image of a destroyer appeared.

"What we have here is a Spruance-class destroyer. It is not the most modern ship in the world, but it is what the slaver faction has at its disposal. The chief threat that the Spruance poses to us is through the existence of its VLS system. This can carry both long-range cruise missiles that could target the island proper, and of course anti-air missiles that could create a danger zone of about two hundred kilometers around the ship. This of course limits how we can engage.”

"What is the probable course of action, Sir?” - one of the pilots asked.

"I'm glad you asked.” - said the Colonel, pressing a remote that made the image on the slide projector change. Now it was a map of one of the harbors of Quazira, plotting potential approach routes for the fighter aircraft. “My suggestion is that we should use the LRASM anti-ship missile. What we're going to do is carry out surprise attacks on their fleet, so as to decapitate it and enable us to develop momentum. Of course, to do that, we would need some more intelligence-”

Suddenly, the lights in the tent blinked red. Buzzing, annoying, the alarm sounded.

"Oh for fucksake.” - one of the pilots breathed out.

As they burst out of their tents, they could see commotion all over the camp. The men of the Air Regiment were running to their combat positions – some cracking open the shipping boxes in which MANPAD missiles had come, others swinging about anti-air automatic cannon and heavy machine gun. Those who did not have an immediate task to do in the ensuing havoc – cooks, clerks, forklift drivers – ran towards the covered slit trenches that they had dug in the week prior, vanishing below the surface of the Earth.

The pilots ran towards their aircraft, putting on their helmets as they ran. The two Readiness Pairs of jets were now getting spooled up, their engines already beginning to roar as the pilots slammed their canopies shut. Rushing at the last moment, ground crews yanked off the bright, orange, REMOVE BEFORE FLIGHT tabs off the planes' air-to-air missiles, and soon enough the F/A-16 Priests were up in the air.

[Quazira]

The sky over the Isabella Archipelago 60 miles away from the camp:
At first the pilots were assigned for a routine patrol, that was until orders came in a few hours ago.
Now they fly a patrol within the Isabella Archipelago, with all adjustments and improvements they could manage a operational reach of 2000 miles, enough for 3 hours of patrol before they needed to retreat.
" Alpha Squadron you are reaching your destination in around 20 minutes. You're leaving line of sight of Radar Station V in a few seconds. Make sure to cover the whole area. Intel suggest the main camp within this sector so don't engage in combat and return at the earliest possibility."
" Roger and acknowledged Headquarter. Allright gentlemen you know the drill were heading northwest to Mount Fuego and after we're making a sweep around the full area."
For now it was a typical scout mission, unbeknown to the pilots, it would probably there last mission.

[Allanea]

The Allanean planes climbed and climbed and climbed, rising into the bright blue skies overhead - one kilometer, two kilometers, three kilometers... even as they climbed, the RADAR operators on the ground fed them information about the enemy planes.

“Jackrabbit, this is Actual. We have identified the bogeys on RADAR, they appear to be prop-driven aircraft. If you climb over fifteen klicks, they won’t do anything to you, over.”

“Actual, this is Jackrabbit, repeat again, are those prop aircraft, over?”

Even as he spoke, the pilot at the helm of the Jackrabbit continued his climb. The Jackrabbit, of course, was an F/A-16 Priest, the same aircraft model used by the entire air regiment, with a jackrabbit painted on one side of the plane’s body, right under the canopy.

“Jackrabbit this is Actual, you are reading me right, prop planes, over.”

Already he could see the planes on the screen of his personal aircraft He realized this was not even meaingfully a fight - he was on a modern, semi-stealthy plane, and these men were unlikely to even have RADAR on board the planes.

He put a hand on his dashboard, switching to a frequency that was known to be used by the PPM’s aircraft. He spoke in Common with a strong Allanean accent, much like a Slavic accent in fact.

“Hostile aircraft, you are violating the territory of the Kingdom of Quazira. I am on board of a modern fighter aircraft, which you have absolutely no chance against in air-to-air combat. Surrender immediately and proceed to land at a designated location, or I will engage you immediately with my onboard air-to-air missiles. Over.”

[Quazira]

There was a short silence. " Unknown Aircraft, these is Squadron Alpha of Air Regiment V. This is Quaziran Air Space. You're request is denied." The speech was made with a heavy german accent and The Allanean Pilot could hear some fear within the voice.
Of course the pilots could immagine what damage this weapons could do but they had their orders.
If they returned now they would be executed for cowardice, if they landed they would probably executed by the rebels, that was the cause of war.
Now they had the chance to become heroes.
Captain Wolfgang Richthofen also known as Alpha I switched to another channel.
" Headquarter, this is Alpha I. Requesting Air Support. We have a hostile object, most likely from the Rebellion. I repeat we have a hostile Air Object near the Isabella Archipelago. Alpha 2 to 4 attack position."
Two Aircrafts followed suit however the P-51 wearing a IV on the frame dropped a good hundred feet.
" I'm not going to die, not like that." Alpha IV was one of the younger pilot and apparently the conditioning had less effect on him.

[Allanea]

The pilots realized, of course, what was happening. Calmly, the pilot of Jackrabbit picked out three targets - the three prop jets that have not chosen to make the descent - and programmed in targets for four intermediate-range missiles.

“You have chosen.” - he said, simply, as the AIM-120 missiles left their cradles on the sides of his plane. There would be a woshing sound as the missiles streaked towards their targets, but of course, insulated within his cockpit he could not hear it.

But firing the missiles did more than just, well, fire the missiles. Encrypted communications shared his targets with his wingman, who fired his own missiles as well, targeting the same three planes. Now, of the three P-51s, two were being targeted by three missiles, and one was being targeted twice.

Meanwhile, Colonel Kimsky contacted the one pilot who was beginning to descend. “Son, I’m Colonel Kimsky. I am going to guide you to a farmer’s field where you can set down safely and then await the POW collection party. Please don’t do anything foolish, you’re nearly safe. The war will be over soon and then you can go home.”

[Quazira]

Surprisingly there were no lasts words from the pilots, no comments, no harrasing, no 'glory to Quazira !' yells, they just died, no one bothered to use their ejection seats.
The fourth plane took full speed, following the directions. On the one side he was amazed at what he just saw, on the other side he was terrified, in his two months with the squad he had learned to know his three partners.
However he wouldn't die for some people he never meet. Yes it was treason and cowardice but he just hoped that the rebels wouldn't act like the PMP government.
He would continue his life, even if he would forever care a stigma for the PMP sympathisers.

City of Silberberg 10 minutes later:
The Minister for Information all but ran towards the bureau of President Chavez.
" Sir, we have new intel, you should hear this." He handed him a tape. " The rebels have their own Airforce and they are more developted as it seems. We lost contact with Squad Alpha a few minutes ago.
" They are death ?"
" They choose death over surrendering, all but one, Cadet Richthofffen will be dealt with once the war is over."
The president nodded grimly.
" So what do you suggest, we can't lose this war."
" There is a small chance, you know the woman who advocated this new Loa ?"
" Bergmann ? Yes I know her, she could help but her price."
" No one said it must be an official child sir. She's our best bet. Better then fighting this whatever that was. Also I suggest a full mobilization and again the evacuation..."
" No evacuation, send word to Bergmann that I want to speak with her oh and send for this girl who served us today."
" As you wish sir."
Despite the fact that he lost 3 loyal pilots the president smiled, maybe this would be the end of this pity revolution, no it would be the doom to them. Now he would launch everything on them he could imagine even if this meant to trust into the old gods...

[Allanea]

Landing Site of the P-51 Pilot

The young pilot would have to wait for quite a while until the Allaneans arrived on site. A heavy set Lyran Arms jeep was making its way to the P-51, clearly filled with men. As it stopped in the field, about a hundred yards from the aircraft, several men with rifles piled out.

“Surrender immediately!” shouted the officer who commanded the search party, even as he waved his service carbine. “Hands in the air!”

At the Allanean airifeld

The Allaneans began a new flurry of activity. Now they were arming all of their planes. Some were armed with a combination of anti-ship missiles and air-to-air missiles - fifteen planes, each armed with three heavy anti-ship missiles, weighing practically a ton each, and four AIM-120 air-to-air missiles, in case that they were attacked by the enemy in mid-flight - though this seemed unlikely.

The other planes - which would take off a few minutes after the first group - carried small bombs, each less than a hundred and fifty kilos, mounted on special racks that fit to the bomb pilons on the planes. Each plane carried sixteen of the tiny, guided bombs, and a pair of AIM-120s just in case.

Quazira was a small country - the Allanean planes had only a short distance to travel to the harbors, indeed so short that they took a slightly longer route, circling to attack from an unexpected direction.

Surveillance from satellites and photography from their own aircraft suggested that the enemy destroyers would still be in port when they struck - unprepared and unready.

It would be Jackrabbit, again, who hit the release button first. The plane vibrated slightly as three heavy anti-ship missiles, each weighing about a ton, left their pylons, aiming at three anchored enemy destroyers about two hundred kilometers away, from beyond the reach of what SAMs the enemy was expected to have. Seconds later, the other planes of his squadron also fired, and so did the others. In this wave, the Allaneans launched forty-five anti-ship missiles, aimed at twelve destroyers.

By the time the missiles impacted, the second wave of planes would already be airborne.

[Quazira]

The stranded P-51 Pilot:
Soon after the P-51 had touched the ground he had leaved the aircraft, knowing fully well what could happen now.
For several minutes his prior life was played in front of his eye, the proud parents who presented the first male heir, the day he flew the first time in the backseat of his father, the day he meet the girl of his life, the day the girl was shoot during one of the protests, the day he became cadet in the Alpha squad, this day that would change his life forever.
At first he didn't noticed the search party however when the commotion and shouting began he raised his arms. They don't shoot him on sight, that was good enough to gave him a bit of hope.
Maybe not all Quaziran Armies were as cruel as the propaganda told everyone...



City of Silberberg - later at the same evening:
Despite his attitude President Chavez was nervous as hell. Normally he was the one in control. He was the one who would lead the way. But no not today. Sarah Bergmann was at the same time one of the most intriguing and most terrifying persons in Quazira. A priestess of the old gods. Specifically to Praia, they had tried to kill her four times by now but she predicted all attempts. Why she was still here was a mystery to the President and one of the most scary points around her.
She didn't bother to knock, knowing full well that she was expected. She was wearing a tight red dress, leaving her left breast bare in the old Quaziran fashion.
" You wanted to speak with me Victor ? Where am I to decline such a request." Her voice was soft, you could hear a soft pur accompanying it.
" What I want is your assistance in matters of great importance. Can you help us to defend Quazira ?"
She laughed at that ." The old gods are dead, isn't that what you proclaim for years ? But yes they may help you. They always helped against Invasions but they have a price."
" Then spill woman, we don't have all time."
She motioned to the slave girl the President had called for.
" She will do but for such a feat the price is higher than usual. One girl born in Earth, one girl born in flames, one girl born in water. That's the price of Praia Mr. President. You have no girl born in flames to offer. However I'm we can make a deal regarding that.
Pay the price and your cause will remain. That's what the old gods can offer you...

[Allanea]

Second Wave of Attack

Minutes after the destroyers were struck, the second wave of Allanean planes released their munitions - a hundred sixty of the guided bombs, targeting every single one of the support ships - corvettes, patrol boats, and so forth - in the harbors, engaging every possible vessel that even looked military. Because the Allaneans had more bombs than the enemy had vessels, some unlucky enemy ships were even targeted twice.

P-51 Landing Site

The Allaneans carefully stripped the enemy pilot of his weapons - and his watch - and then handcuffed him, loading him into the jeep. He would soon have to answer many questions.

[Quazira]

Port Isabella - Military Harbor Areal:
The news of the partly mobilization had hid the streets and so the Harbor was a mess of havoc. Several dozen chests of explosives were waiting for transportation, missiles, gun grenades and ammunition for several weapons. All in all roughly 6000 people were frequenting the docks of the 6 destroyers that layed anchor at this biggest city of Quazira. All in all the military section harbored 65 ships, including the flag ship.
Still it would need days until the fleet could set sail but that was the price for the size of this ships.
The first warning came 1 minute before the bombs strucked. The sirens were still screaming the signal of evacuation and a mass panic followed. The first bombs strucked the HPS Chavez enlightning several chests of explosives and causing a chain of events.
The same events strucked the city of Northport barely 2 minutes later.
All in all 4500 People were killed that day, including over 1000 civilians, for many people it would mark the true beginning of the Quaziran Conflict.

The Headquarter of the Resistance:
After a bit under two hours they reached the camp, the headquarter was allready alarmed via radio so a joint command of Allanean and Quaziran Soldiers awaited the prisoner.
One of the Quazirans was General Green, serving 20 years at the Quaziran Military before joining the resistance he knew several soldiers by name. This one was way to young to serve along with him but his face was very recognizable.
" A Richthoffen, well gentlemen I think you found a little treasure here. They are famous pilots trough the whole family. I knew your Grandfather lad, at least you have inherited the sence of honor I knew from him."
He turned to the commander of the search party. " I'm hosting a round for you and your men this evening, it's rare that Quazirans surrender, especially after they completed their training. I know they will be furious about the shame by now, for us it's a important victory I guess."

The City of Silberberg the next morning:
A girl born in flames, only later in the evening he had noticed the full impact of this revelation. She had offered him her body for the night to complete the price. Praia was a weird godess, even for the Quaziran Pantheon but if it helped the cause.
His good mood was destroyed when he got news of the devastating destruction of the fleet. 90 % of all ships were destroyed, only corvettes on duty were spared, the military harbors were destroyed and everything in only one sweeping attack.
He only hoped the Priestess would do her miracle soon because now nothing stood between the rebels and the Mainland of Quazira...

[Allanea]

For the young Richtoffen, he would find that his situation would be relatively sensible. He would be imprisoned – of course – in a modular housing unit. A modular housing unit, of course, is a fancy military way to say “a somewhat upgraded shipping container”, complete with six foldout beds, an air conditioning unit, and a cheap – though flat-screen – television by way of entertainment, as well as a pair of elderly DVDs. A nearly-unbreakable device – an e-reader – was furnished also, loaded with thousands of books. This was cheap to provide – a device like this literally cost less than a pair of Army boots.

Food would be served three times a day, and was nutritious, though not necessarily tasty – the same food that Allanean soldiers ate, in fact, one could not really complain. There would be hot, very sweet tea, a square omelette in the morning, chicken at noon, and a potato salad in the evening. Sometimes this would be augmented by a mix of spaghetti and tushonka – a sort of extremely fatty meat, again as popular among soldiers of the Allanean Army.

*]

Ministry of War Headquarters, Free Kingdom of Allanea

The building of the Ministry of War was immense – at least by the standards of Allanea, where most people preferred to live in small, family homes. Its spire towered over the city, the gleaming new symbol of the Ministry of War – the Winged Crown – implanted proudly on its facade. The side-wings of the building were somewhat lower, and within it the Ministry of War building housed an extensive bureaucracy – civilian clerks, military generals, and spies toiled here day and night.

Of course, as often with the Ministry of War, there was more to the complex than met the eye. Underground, vast arrays of fortified passages hid command arrays and military archives, communication nodes and even parking lots, extending not only beneath the building itself, but under the street and under several adjacent buildings. The true configuration of the actual building was kept classified.

As Deirdre Kendrick, a clerk with the Ministry of War's Foreign Liaison Unit, walked up the stairs that led to the Ministry of War's main entrance, she passed by the guards – four men in black uniforms, wearing Army caps and carrying battle rifles – that stood at parade guard at Ministry's entrance. She knew well that these men were not the main security within the Ministry – that would be the multiple layers of security operatives that screened access to the Ministry's classified areas, the guards that monitored its complex, intricate system of security cameras, and the private company to which the security of the underground parking lots has been contracted.

By the time she had passed into the elevator that led to floor 34 of the Central Building, she had her fingerprints scanned once and had to display her ID twice – more than the average Allanean has to do in an entire year of their lives.

Finally, afgter walking down a long corridor, she passed into a conference room, where several people were already waiting – a man in an Air Force general's uniform, a Navy admiral, and a representative of OAS – the Organization for Armed Shenanigans, Allanea's shadowy intelligence service. (You can't be among the world's foremost military powers without a shadowy intelligence service, can you?)

"Good morning, Deirdre.” - the Air Force General said. “Have you heard the news?”

"From Quazira? Yes, it was all over the Internet yesterday. The Holoplay videos of the explosion will live for all time.”- grinned Deirdre. What kind of Allanean does not love a huge explosion?

"I think it's time for us to write a letter to the Quaziran government.” - the Air Force General said.

"To brag about our huge milcock?” - Deirdre was still smiling, and of course she was as foulmouthed as anyone else in Allanea.

"This is of course true, but also we should offer them a new operation.” - the General offered. “I don't want to move without their approval.”

"Since when do we need someone's approval to kill slavers?” - Deirdre raised an eyebrow.”

"Ah, you see, therein lies the rub.” - the General said. “Since we want to retain a friendly relationship with the Quaziran government post-war, we probably want to minimize casualties among the civilians. Those slaver cocks have built their military bases right smack in the middle of their big cities, probably to use the civilians as a living shield.”

"That appears to be some manner of ancient slaver custom.” - said Deirdre. “Oh well. I'll draft a letter.”

*

To: General Green of Quazira, Lady Naerdiel nos Fithurin of Menelmacar
From: Deirdre Kendrick, Foreign Liaison Unit, Free Kingdom Ministry of War
Subject: Operation Virtue Dawn

Dear friends!

As a representative of the Free Kingdom Ministry of War, I am happy to report to you the utter success of our first operation, operation Midnight Light. Current reports suggest the destruction of 90% of the slaver navy, enabling the commencement of a landing operation at any time suitable to our allies.

However, the Free Kingdom Ministry of War believes that it is necessary to carry out a further operation, one that we have provisionally dubbed Operation Virtue Dawn. For this purpose, we are already pre-deploying – by cargo aircraft – more munitions for use by the 458th Fighter Air Regiment. However, we feel that this operation should receive allied approval before launch.

The devastation inflicted on the slaver navy by Operation Midnight Light notwithstanding, it remains true that the slaver forces outnumber and outgun the Quaziran government effort by multiple orders of magnitude. Concentration of slaver forces have been spotted by our satellites in all major cities. We believe that they have been deployed this way in order to deter air strikes on slaver forces (as there would naturally be some danger to civilians in such air strikes), as well as to maintain political control. These strategies are typical to the behavior of slaver and totalitarian forces across the world.

Operation Midnight Dawn is intended to operate in three stages:

Stage 1: Allanean assets [primarily, Air Regiment 458, as well as one or two Arsenal Ships we will deploy to the area, and fire from long-range, nuclear-powered strategic bombers] will attack slaver air defenses in and around the major cities, utilizing precision, long-range munitions to suppress enemy air defenses, specifically around Port Isabella and Silberberg.

Stage 2: Allanean assets will carry out attacks using guided munitions and anti-tank sensor-fuzed munitions against enemy barracks in Port Isabella and Port Silberberg, hoping to catch as many of the enemy tanks and equipment as possible, and to limit the enemy's capacity to resist. Guided munitions will also engage the enemy's state radio stations and television stations.

Stage 3: Broadcasts will immediately begin on the air waves that would be temporarily freed by the air strikes, encouraging the enemy armed forces to surrender and the locals to rise up against the government. This will be coupled with the dropping of propaganda materials approved by the lawful Quaziran government, encouraging the enemy troops to surrender.

Obviously, this will take some time, especially in light of the fact we would need to prepare said propaganda materials, and the arsenal ships would take some time to arrive. But we are in no meaningful hurry, as the enemy's navy has been destroyed.

The arsenal ships, as well as a military radio surveillance vessel, are now on their way, but obviously will not open fire before final allied approval has been received for the mission.

Awaiting your reply,

Deirdre Kendrick.

Our cause is just, victory shall be ours.

[Quazira]

Richthoffens housing unit:
After he was shoved into his new 'home' he was completely perplexed. He could recognize many of the things from his home, including the flat TV (after all there were some smuggling routes to the outside) however he was completely buffed about this multi million Mark equipment situated in a mere cell.
What were this people up to ?
After the first meal was served he was considering his options, this was way to expensive for a temporarily cell that would make sense for a prisoner that would be executed soon. But why should this rebells who shoot thousands of civilians and raided dozens of villages spare a mere cadet ? There wasn't any sense in that at all !
Maybe it was time to change his view about this rebells...

Headquarter:
There was again a critical meeting between the three most important heads of the Quaziran resistance.
" Do we have any intel on the situation right now ?" Crown Princess Sibyll was all statesmanlike even in this situation.
" It was all over the radios and TV-Screens. Apparently they are speaking about an act of terrorism destroying the two main harbors. They couldn't sweep it under the carpet, not with this huge explosions. Apparently 1500 civillians died as well." General Greens face beared no expression.
" And you want that to continue ? How many people will be dying the next time we can't..."
" We can sister, for the greater good of the cause. This is a war we are fighting right now."
" And what good would a war doing if we are killing our own people ?"
" Tell me sis, how many people will die if we are attacking right now ? How many would die before the army needed to surrender ? How many of this civillians would be executed because of 'treason' shortly after we hit the shore to boost their moral ? When we strike we must strike fast. If most of the army is destroyed beforehand we could win this within a month. Otherwise this campaign could take a year or more."
" You had put quite a bit thought behind that." It wasn't a question from Green.
" I had good mentors. Anyway I trust Allanea, they were allready a great help and we need international help. In this war and afterwards."
" So what are our next steps ?"
" After the Airstrikes ? We will hit shore most likely. I trust that after such an act of... power there will be quite a few people feeling encouraged enough to start a rebellion. We can use this momentum."
The discussion was interrupted by a Sargeant who politely waited at the entrance. " Your highness, there's a visitor wishing to speak with the whole command."
" A visitor, he wasn't arrested ?"
" Afraid not your highness, and it's a woman. A priestess of Praia."
That changed things, if the three were surprised at first now they were confused as hell.
" She also requested to speak with however was in charge of the new support who demonstrated their power."
" Well then, send for this Colonel, what was his name again ?"
" Kimsky your highness. Sargeant, tell this priestess that we will meet with her as soon as the colonel is available."
When the sargeant leaved everyone turned to the queen. " I thought the Praia Cult was destroyed years ago ?"
" Apparently I was feed false informations. That could be a huge boon for us, we could turn the natives against Quazira if we would have the support of the godess."
" Still I wonder how they survived so far." Green commented dryly. " No doubt we will get the answer soon.

[Allanea]

And so, much to his own surprise, Colonel Kimsky was called upon to the meeting with the Queen of Quazira. Naturally speaking, he agreed to this, letting his Lieutenant Colonel manage the arrivals - every day, a cargo plane from the homeland landing on their airstrip, delivering several dozen tons of supplies - and getting his driver behind the wheel of his service jeep. The dark-green vehicle weaved through the streets in the island capital, until finally arriving in the rebel headquarters.

Even after the improvements of the Allanean regiment the Headquarter of the resistance had a temporarily character, much of the buildings consisted of pre fabricated buildings and modules. The main building was no exception from that.

In front of the dull grey building quite a commotion had formed, several soldiers seemed to wait on something to happen and when the Colonel came nearer he could hear some shouts in Quazi, the native language of Quaziran.

Shortly before he arrived at the entrance General Green appeared at the front of the building with a slight frown.

“ Good to see you Colonel, there are some matters her majesty needs to discuss with the whole command.”

“Good day, General,” - said Kimsky. He did not know the saluting etiquette of the Quaziran and decided to chance it by not saluting the General. “I’m hoping that the letter from the Ministry has been well-received?”

“ From the stand of her majesty it’s well received, however we were still in mid-discussion when we got news from the mainland.”

It was clear that something had annoyed the general.

“From a source we didn’t expect. If you would follow me the details can be best explained by the carrier of the message.

She insisted to talk with the one in command of the power who aid us as well, that would be you colonel. ” From the outside there were still audible shouts.

“ Prayers colonel, ancient ones mostly, alone the existence of the messenger is… a great boost to moral as we believed that the religious organization she emerged from was destroyed shortly after the change.”

“I see, well that’s quite good, and of course religious fervor is a great thing if harnessed for the right cause, regardless of what one may actually believe in,” - said Colonel non-commitantly, he did not want this to become a springboard for the Quazirans to try to convert them into whatever religion they worshipped, he was quite happy in his worship of Lathander as it stood.


“ It’s not a question of faith per se, it’s what the organization represents. The faith in Quazira was always more problematic then in other countries I believe, more political and more omni present. I don’t know what the priestess want, she refused to relay her message until you’re arrival.


They are increasingly popular with the native Quazirans, the ones who live outside of the cities and in the jungles, that was one of the main reasons why they were rooted out in the beginning of the oppression, or at least we thought so until today.


You saw the reactions of the soldiers themself, if we got them as an ally you will have a rebellion within weeks.


She’s representing one of the main goddesses of the pantheon named Praia, goddess of Independence among others.


There aren’t many nice gods in the pantheon at all and Praia is probably one of the worst of the lot, just so that you have a warning.”

“I... see, that’s quite unusual. Most people worship gods that they feel are the image of goodness. Not always - sometimes people worship outright evil deities - but this seems to be the rule.”

“ She’s ambivalent, you see if you follow the old legends she’s the protector of Quazira and everything she deemed worthwhile like beauty and art. The problem is she has no problems to use methods others would refrain from. That is if you follow the old myths.”

They were reaching a door with two guards positioned in front of it. They took salute and the general opened the door to a room that was normally used for tactical meetings. Now however the table was empty save for refreshments and 4 seats were set around the table.

Two of them already occupied by the Queen and a second Quaziran woman in her mid 20s, she wore a tight red silk dress that left the left breast free.
The queen motioned towards the colonel to sit down. “ Colonel Kimsky from the Allanean Air Regiment, you have the honor to…”
The unknown woman raised her hand slightly.
“ You’re not going to go all formal child. I’m Sarah Bergmann, Priestess of Praia. I believe after your last demonstration of power it was important to include you into this matters of importance.”

“Frankly we have done nothing.” - said Kimsky. “Modern guided munitions do most of the work for you. Most of it, at least.”

“ What you have done was enough to spread terror in your Enemies hearth, enough to become desperate.”

She motioned to the queen.

“ You may not know what lies beyond your horizon but true Quazirans, born out of the elements of Praia.
Take her majesty for example, she never abandoned the faith because she knew what we’re capable of. You demonstrated a power even Dragos would be proud of.”

“ The God of Strategy, War and Fire, husband to Praia.” General Green interjected.

“ Yes, I see you took at least a few lessons General. This explosions, it can’t be a sign to be overlooked. Especially not after your enemy committed to the old gods.
So Colonel you may believe it was a work of your weapons but if you use the situation right and continue this work the people will not care for the scientifical answer. They will take it as a sign of the gods, a god they still care about.”

“That’s true for all religions. If you are so inclined anything can be described as a sign of the gods.” - said Kimsky. “My men and I are going to work on providing more of these heavenly signs in due time, unfortunately it’s not going to happen immediately. Sadly most civilians have a misunderstanding of a military’s work. People are fixated with the brief moments of violence and brutality, and believe that our job consists in flying in the heavens and blowing things up, unfortunately people are often blind to the days of hard work that are required to make these missions happen.”

“ War is bloody work unfortunately.” The queen said. “ That’s why I understood the necessity to use Airstrikes even if it cost the life of innocents.
However to honor their lives we should take the maximum out of this strikes. You’re Ministry mentioned Messages to the population and livestreams. When we could take the messages towards the mainland through sources the population trust already.”
The Priestess nodded.
“ We could do that if we would be convinced that it would help Quazira. We always did what was best for the island. However Colonel, what will you do once the war is over ? What will be the next steps for your regiment after insuring the Queen is crowned ? My order is dedicated to Quazirans independence after all.”

“Ma’am, I am not a diplomat, so my understanding of the long-term plan is limited. What I understand is that the allied governments are interested in helping Quazira develop as a just and sovereign society. For this purpose we will provide aid and expert assistance, but we don’t have any interest in annexing Quazira or anything of that nature.”

“ Then you’re in luck Colonel.” Her smile had something feral in it. “ As you will be probably home again when the consequences of your ‘modern weapons’ hit Quazira.
Your enemy, a man called Chavez, offered my order 3 girls, one born of water, one born of earth and one born of flames. The Prophecy will be fullfilled itself within the next year.
After that many things will change forever.”

“ You mean the prophecy of the three ? He can’t be that desperate.”
“ He just lost a huge amount of his fleet against something he can’t understand. Of course he’s desperate.

You must be Queen within the end of the year. We’re now in October that gives a bit over 2 months.”

“ Oh for the love of all gods, you can’t be serious, this prophecy will never happened, not the first 4 times you’re order proclaimed it and not this time.”
He turned to the Colonel.
“ It’s an old prophecy, older than the gods themself. In essence the prophecy proclaims that the gods will return to Quazira for ten and thousand years when the earth is shaken by an act of Dragos and three girls are sacrificed in the name of Earth, Water and Fire.
Of course this is bullshit.”

“ We will see general. So colonel, what is your stance about problems that arise after this war that would threaten anything you achieved ?”

“My stance? I... don’t think this is something you can expect to have fighter pilots deal with. I expect that the allied governments will assist. But wait. What is this “offering children” stuff? Is there some human-sacrifice faction to your movement?”

The eyes of the Priestess seemed to glower. “ There was a practice like that and it will be ever there Colonel. Blood is the most powerful essence you can achieve.
Of course only the darkest rituals need the sacrifice of children but yes this practice exist.”

“ I told you colonel, any means necessary for this pantheon. Although Praia is not routinely sacrificing them. Still these are myths.”

“ Every myth has a essence of truth in it.” The Queen insisted. “ So 2 months that will give us a thought time frame. If the Order of Praia could support us we could have a rebellion within a few weeks. There are still millions of followers of the old gods.”
She turned to the colonel.

“ Once the main military bases are destroyed, how long would it take to start a campaign at the main land ?”

“This is entirely depending on your levels of organization. We can have their military in a total state of disarray within, say, three weeks of now, most of the time being spent on waiting for all the supplies to get in position, and then culminating in a day or two of active campaigning. Within two or three days we would cripple all their organized military capability. Then there are... well there are a few things that could go awfully awfully wrong, but the best-case scenario is that their military collapses and you drive to the capital. Obviously there are no guarantees and there are numerous ways we can fuck up terribly.”

The general snorted. “ I like you’re pessimistic view colonel, way better suited than the officers who were ecstatic after they heard the news. My men can be ready within a week.. Most of them have a drill of at least 1 year, While my best field officer is not available right now we should be more than capable to take a beach head and with the right weaponry we could take one or more of the major cities, however that would depend on the state of rebellion within the mainland at that point.”
“ If you can achieve the goal we will help.” Priestess Bergmann commented.
“ It would also be good for the cause if the Queen would accompany the troops. The royal house of Quazira has still much of support, although no one would dare to speak about such matters in public.”

“There should be some measures taken to raise as many people as we can for the invasion force. Three weeks of training isn’t much but I’d rather have ten thousand three-week infantry than not. It seems incredible that three thousand men can conquer a country of twenty million. Even if we manage to kill off half of the slaver forces, that’s still five hundred thousand that they can organize into some manner of emergency resistance squads or some bullshit of this kind.”

The general shook his head. “ Not if you disrupt the chain of command. Allaneans troops are fighting for the cause of freedom correct ? Now Quaziran forces are conditioned to the command of the president. If the chain of command is disrupted there will be a phase of anarchy that could last quite a few weeks.
From my understanding there are no emergency-protocols because Chavez was stupid enough in his paranoia to never establish then.
We will begin our recruitment tomorrow, this means we will soon need a new headquarter as the main camp will be way to small before we head to the island.
Any suggestions ?”

“ Well there is the old temple of Dragos, destroyed in the civil war of the third federation. The communists never bothered with the old gods. It’s a massive complex that could easily hold a ten thousand soldiers, maybe twenty thousands. Your majesty if you would give me this map there please ? Thank you.”

She took a short sweep about the map and the scale before she pointed on the map.
“ There you will find your base General. I have one condition however, The temple will be rebuild after the war so Dragos and Praia can worship their gods in one of the major centers of their faith.”

“ This request is granted priestess.” The queen said without hesitation.

“ Wonderful, we can take this base as a operational field for the Allanean forces. Any complains about that Colonel ?”

“I don’t have any meaningful complaints. Furthermore, I believe we should request from the allied forces that some manner of Allanean ground forces be attached. Given the need to be swift. Now, please explain to me, what does the prophecy actually say What is it that happens if we, say, take three months to liberate the country?”

The Priestess rose in an instant. “ The prophecy itself is detailed into four stages. In the first one Quazira will be in a dire situation of need, the Quazirans will take away their fate from the old gods and worship false idols. This part was true for the last 50 years with the growing personal cult of the President.
The second stage details that the gods are angry and send signs towards Quazira to take them back to the true faith. In some sense that would be your use of modern weapons, however there was a volcanic eruption last year that would fit the prophecy as well.
The interesting part are the third and the fourth part. The third one tells us that when three girls are killed, one born of fire, one born of earth and one borne of water. The gods will take actions.


The fourth one tells us what this actions will be. By winter solstice they will contact the bearer of the crown. Then she will fulfill the will of the gods and the gods will remain on earth for ten and thousand years.”


She took a glass of water.


“ The main problem is part four, they will seek for the bearer of the Crown, meaning not just any queen but the one that’s enthroned after the old tradition. For that she must be anointed in the Royal Palace in Silberberg, our capital.”


“ As you can see.” The general commented. “ That’s rather vague, many have tried to get in touch with the gods including Queen Isabella I, so far no one has reached any contact with the gods.”


“ But she’s different.” The Priestess remarked. “ She’s a true daughter of Praia and Dragos, I could feel it since she was born. So she must be crowned in Silberberg within the winter solstice.”

“I could of course...” - the Colonel contemplated for a moment - “I could of course send a message to my superiors to try and solicit airborne troops that would attack Silberberg directly. However, I wish to know more. Suppose we do fail. It’s not impossible, I can list off a few ways we can fail. What will happen? Will the Gods swallow the nation to the bottom of the sea? Unleash a plague?”

“ Now that’s the problem, we don’t know. They will be unhappy of course, just like they were unhappy before.”

“ She refers to a chain of great volcanic eruptions, darkening Quazira for a few years.” The general remarked.

“ Don’t forget the spaniards who killed millions of our people.”

“ A great outbreak in the 16th century, around 5 million deaths that was the half of the european population.
We’re talking about a pantheon that takes human sacrifices for granted. You can imagine what they will do once they are angry ?”

“ It will be unpleasant.” The Priestess remarked.

“How very pleasant.” - Kimsky noted, “Now, after we adjourn this meeting, would it be possible for you to share some historical materials with me about the practices of this religion? I believe my superiors would like to know more.”

“ That can be certainly arranged.” Priestess Bergmann told him with a beaming smile.
“ I have a last point on my agenda.” She reached into her pocket.
“ In the name of Praia, protector of Quazira I give you the strength to achieve your goals.” She draw a dagger out of the pocket, complete with a scabbard bearing the image of a great cat with two rubies working as the eyes.
“ May you’re life be long and plentiful.”
With that she took her seat again, the dress rustling over the ground.

“ If there is nothing of importance for you anymore colonel I have a last request, my sister had concerns after she heard about the deaths following the explosions in the harbor.
I know collateral damage is to be expected and I’m in full support of the measures proposed by your Ministry. Just try to minimize the collateral damage in this war.”

The door opened, and Lady Naerdiel entered the room, dressed in a Menelmacari fleet uniform, the gemstones of the rank insignia glittering along with her eyes. She did not at all look amused.

“Well, we have used the most reasonable and precise means that we could so far, ma’am.” - the Colonel explained, just as Naerdiel came in- “Excuse me?” - he looked at the elf officer. She was clearly a senior Menelmacari official, but as far as he knew, none have been invited to the event. “You are quite late.”

“Because I was not invited,” she answered. “I am Lady Naerdiel nos Fithurin. Privy Councilor of Greater Prussia and chosen proxy of the Inspector-General. As such I am inspecting things. And I have already heard -- indirectly -- some very disturbing things that were not made known to my government in advance of this enterprise.” Unseen in the rafters, a mechanical beetle scuttled about, shifting for a better perspective on the proceedings.

“Yes.” - said the Colonel, simply. “I have given shooting this here Priestess in the head a thought,” - he added, pocketing the gift the Priestess had just given him. “But I felt I could not fight my way out if I did.”

Naerdiel turned her attention to the queen. “You must be the elder sister of the very pleasant Princess Sybill, I presume?” she asked. “I can see the resemblance. She and I met aboard the Morrigan. We spoke at length, but somehow, human sacrifice never came up. Tell me, if you would, why my government, having predicated our very considerable postwar aid upon liberty, should not revoke same, if you are not going to protect that most important of natural rights, that of life, instead consigning people, even children, to depraved rites of the shadow?” She glanced at Bergmann briefly, and never in such beautiful eyes would the priestess have seen so tranquil an expression of contempt.

The queen put on her best smile, the one she had achieved through her rebellious youth.
“ Well that would be because the Crown Princess is not deeply involved with religious matters. Before today we expected that the Praia cult was destroyed decades ago.
I apologize for the delay in your invitation, this meant no insult regarding your position.”

“ The raid in the 60s was a minor inconvenience your majesty, nothing we couldn’t adapt to.” The priestess flashed a smile.

“ As for your question about some rites. Yes Sacrifices are a part of the whole pantheon as blood as the mightiest essence. There were never a morale debate about it before because Quazirans accepted it. It’s not like we pick a maiden from the street and put them on a altar with a stab to the hearth.” ‘At least not within our Faith’. “ But blood is essential. Especially if it’s attuned to our earth. For most rituals animal sacrifices will suffice, although this won’t give them the full power.


However for the most potent rituals like the one on winter solstice and summer solstice we need human sacrifices. In the past these were either voluntary or, like in most cases, trough people who deserved this fate. While this sounds cruel in contrast to the six dark ones this is pretty fair.”

“The Six Dark Ones?” -asked Kimsky, clearly he was entirely unimpressed. “The history of Quazira sounds like an incredibly cheerful story..”

“ As I told you before Colonel, the Quaziran Pantheon is ambivalent. Each one has his dark gods of murder, brutality and so on. Quaziran has 6, they were outlawed in ancient times for the havoc they created but still they are operating in all major cities.
This one are the cults you would associate with blood sacrifice, they have no rules, only a sinister codice what can be achieved with blood.”

Bergmann nodded. “ Our natural enemies, the enemies of light and fire, destroyer of beauty and enforcers of the night. Any worshipper who would dare to enter a Temple of the 8 rightful gods would be sacrificed on the next festival occasion alone for worshipping one of this abominations !” For the first time the Priestess was really angry.

“To be perfectly frank,” Naerdiel noted, “I care precisely nothing for disputes among the followers of insignificant hedge-deities. Menelmacar’s purpose overall is to advance the cause of liberty and to push back the darkness of evil. Generally, that purpose is not compatible with murder prescribed by capricious beings who think themselves better than you. These rituals at the solstice, that supposedly require human blood, what purpose do they have? What specific task do they fulfill? Simply put, do you have an actual reason for carrying them out, beyond faith?”

Bergmann smile hardened. “ Yes this sacrifices are needed. In winter they push away the darkness and are needed to banish the nights full of terror. In Summer they achieve good harvests and a general increase in fertility.
As I said before we have rules, most people who are sacrifice are doing that because they commit numerous sins against the gods, especially against Praia or they are worshippers of the dark ones.
Do you know what the inauguration contains ? You’re needed to participate in a rite containing at least three sacrifices, in some you’re sacrifycing you’re own flesh.
You can understand that people who are doing this willingly can’t be spared ?”

“I understand, miss Bergmann,” Naerdiel answered, “that I cannot take you at your word that these people are sacrificing themselves willingly, and that no, repeat no pressure is put upon them to do so.” She looked to the queen. “Would it be acceptable to you to limit this practice entirely to those guilty of capital crimes, such as rape or murder, as convicted under a fair trial? Surely this… Praia would consider those to be sins, and so they would qualify.”

“ That would be acceptable. As major sins against Praia contains murdering of couples, killing unborn children without the consent of the mother, taking the virginity of woman by force etc... “
The Priestess nodded. “ Of course we would accept the banning of random sacrifices, that’s not what the goddess wants. Furthermore the old taboos…”
“ Will be reactivated yes.”
“ Very well, that’s acceptable from my side.” Bergmann confirmed.

“What are the old taboos?” Naerdiel asked.

“ Oh that ? Sins unspeakable off, like killing new borns, practices that are only used by the dark ones.” Bergmann explained.

“Wait.” - said Kimsky, pointing at the Queen and at General Green - “right until half an hour ago you told me you don’t even believe in the old faith. Why are we now so swiftly buying into this whole ‘Old Gods’ idea? There’s not been any miracles that cannot be explained by tectonic plate movements and the power of guided weapons.”

“A point which, even in my anger, I was too polite to point out,” Naerdiel added.

“Literally when I came in here minutes ago I was told the Old Gods were old prejudice and suchlike.” - pointed out Kimsky.

The Queen’s smile faltered. “ I was always loyal to the old gods, especially Praia. However 50 years ago, shortly after the change there was a purge that destroyed many of the old centers of faith. We assumed that the Faith was destroyed until we were proven wrong.”
“ As for my part” General Green added. “ I’m not buying this whole stuff completely, especially not this prophecy humbug. I’m a more practical man.”

Naerdiel pointed at Green. “You. I like you.”

Green slightly bowed his head. “ After all this years serving in the military you trust more in the faith of you’re men and you’re own skills instead of some religious principles.”

“ Still you showed us the proper respect at many times, that is all we asked for general. Regarding you’re developments of modern science. If this is your religion so be it. As long as you don’t test the Quaziran Independence or allies with the dark ones I’m sure we can work things out.” Bergmann completed.

Naerdiel gave Bergmann a mirthless, slightly predatory grin. “Someday I will show you what can truly be achieved with the ‘religion’ of modern science.”

“ And one day you will recognize what a independent goddess is capable off. You will see that in around…” she took a look at todays date. “ 55 days when the winter solistice commenced.” Bergmann countered.

“Right then.” - Kimsky said. “If my plans are approved by senior command, Allanean troops will be in the capital in twenty days.”

A short silence regained. “ 20 days ? The last time we had a rebellion we needed over two months. To be fair that was a communist rebellion in the 1890s but still. 20 Days trough mountainous terrain. At that time we probably have conquered Port Isabella if the Faith is putting the right triggers.” A slight hint of jealously creeped inside his voice.

“I don’t mean twenty days after the start of the fighting,” - said Kimsky. “I mean twenty days, starting tomorrow. That is,” - he looked at Naerdiel “if someone can persuade my superiors to approve of certain suggestions.”

“I may be able to arrange that,” Naerdiel answered.

More silence followed. Then Green broke into a grin.
“ I guess we haven’t seen more than a notch of what Greater Prussia is capable of ?” He looked like a 10 year old boy finding himself locked into a warehouse full of toys.

“ That will be the death blow to this oppressors and the day Quazira will take the next step towards his legacy.” The Queen confirmed her green eyes by now sparkling.

[Allanea]

Allanean Air Base, several days later

For the first few days, Richtoffen wouldn’t be bothered. He would get to go for walks outside his container-room - under the strict supervision of guards, of course - and taken to showers once daily. Other than this there would be no particular exertion expected to him,. until one day, he would be visited by two guards, and escorted out of his room.

As he walked through the base, he would be able to see that the Regimental Airfield had grown - several more runways now added, and large stocks of heavy-set green boxes, clearly holding some sort of weapons, were stored throughout the airfield. There would also be other aircraft now - cargo planes large and small - and many many more tents. Soldiers with rifles - tall, strong men, clearly much more fit than the soldiers of the Fighter Air Regiment - walked back and forth through the base. Very clearly a large operation was in the offing, and there was little attempt to conceal this basic fact - even if Richtoffen escaped, there was little that the enemy could do with this information.

Evenmtually he would be taken to a small - yet, as usual for Allaneans, air-conditioned - tent, where an officer sporting a two-day stubble way already waiting.

“Good morning.” - the officer said. “I am Andrew McCormick, 458th Air Regiment Intelligence Officer. Please sit down.”

The Cadett was startled at first, maybe they had came to the decission that he was not needed anymore, maybe he would be sacrificed on an altar, things like that could happen in the past.
However when he saw the officer entering the tent he relaxed a bit neither the uniform nore the appearance showed any signs of Quaziran origin. He took his seat as ordered, his head lowered by a small notch.
“ Cadett Wilhelm Richthoffen formerly 5th Air Regiment stationed in the city of North Port.”
He introduced himself with a neutral voice.

“How old are you, cadet?” - asked the officer


“ This november 21 sir, there was an exception because of my family status. I’m in serving with the Regiment since 2 months, this was my first mission outside the mainland.” .

“Excellent then. Now let’s be clear. I can go extremely hard on you, but I won’t because you’ve acted decently so far and you’ve not been suspected of anything particularly horrible. I’m going to start out by asking the obvious questions. What kind of training have you received before becoming a pilot?”

“ There was never a discussion about my assignment. My grandfather was Commander of the Presidential Regiment when he resigned in 1980, my father was Captain-Commander of the 5th Air Regiment. There was special training regarding the mechanics of a P-51 and some flight training but everything was always aimed towards flying the P-51.” He said with a sad smile ‘yes everything, including avoiding any scandals.’
“ As I’m cooperative, will the execution be postponed until the war is over ?” Maybe he would be in luck with this foreigners.

“As of the moment there’s no talk of an execution unless it suddenly turns out you own fifteen slaves and are horribly abusing them or something of this nature.” - said the officer. “Is the sort of aircraft we’ve seen your unit fly typical with the slaver armed forces?”

“ I never owned one, my father was high enough to manage the finances to own three but even if I would have the salary I wouldn’t take this route.
The P-51 Q is the most modern we have, the last modifications were done 5 years ago. We estimated that a re evaluation of the fighter wouldn’t be cost effective until we would develop something new.
We have however new models in the prototype phase that should be put in use within the next years.” That was strange, why wouldn’t they sacrifice him after they got their Informations ? They were responsible for thousands of deaths after all.

“Let us review, then. Your nation’s prime fighter plane is a propeller-driven aircraft with a top speed of about seven hundred kilometers an hour, no onboard radar or missile armament, and a service ceiling of under thirteen kilometers. Of my regiment’s aircraft, it’s sufficient to say they have a top speed expressed as a four-digit number and more weapons payload than the P-51 weighs. I think you realize what is going to happen in the coming days.” - said the officer. “Now, please answer me very clearly, what kind of education did you get in school?”

He frowned. “ Well, I know it’s not great but the curriculum mostly covered the history of our victories against the Bolschewists in the 1890s, the oppression of america in the 1945 and so on. I took Mathmatics as a prime course in 7th year. I know what you tell me is possible but well, the americans closed all our universities in the 40s. Since then they were never reopened as we need to play our part to protect the country. Naturaly only Quazirans had access to education.
You tell me that you developed Rocket-Aircrafts ? We are just coming to the conclusion that this would be our best target to achieve a new generation of fighters.”

The Allanean raised an eyebrow. “Son, there’s been five generations of jet fighter aircraft since the invention of the jet engine. The FA-16 is somewhere between fourth and fifth generation depending on which expert you ask. Now, let me ask about your education. If there’s no universities in your country, where were your teachers trained?”

“ What, for the love of everyone who cares, when were they introduced ? Of course my teachers had a certificate and clearance from the presidential bureau. Everyone working for the state need them.” The shock was clearly visible by now.

“A few years back. It is not the shiniest and prettiest plane the country has, but it was decided that the more expensive jets wouldn’t be sent here.” - the intelligence officer said. “Now, if I may, how many hours a day did you spend in school?”

“ A normal Quaziran ? That would be depend on his status, most people are advised to help on the farms after Age 14 at least for half the day. Only the gifted receive the whole training.
A standard school day consist of 6 hours with saturday and sunday free. 3 hours afternoon school for the normal Quaziran.”

“How do people do things like maintain SAM sites and man modern tanks?” asked the intelligence officer curiously.

“ Most of the training is done within the military, after what they call ‘voluntary education’ it’s a conditioning program for everyone who want’s to work in sensible areas. This is a whole time education where some facts are put in your head. I received ~ half of the stuff. After that I got an exception because I had the chance to serve in the Alpha Squad of the 5th Air Regiment.”

“Alright, tell me about your regiment. How are the planes protected? Are the hangars heavy concrete, or are they regular hangars? What kind of SAMs there, are they self-propelled or rooted to the ground?”

“ The 5th Regiment base is about 5 miles from the city core, it was build in the 1960s and since then the city increased in size. Most of the buildings were renovated in the 2000s including fortification. We have 4 Towers to defend against ground crafts, the SAMs are mostly self propelled. Then there are of course rocket launchers to defend against enemy crafts if the area is compromised.
Before I saw what you did to the rest of the squad I would say that it would took heavy looses but right now…”

“I see. Okay, tell me more about slavery in your country. Are slaves very expensive to own?”

“ For a common Quaziran ? Yes, for someone who took all the conditioning ? Not so much.
Common Salary for a peasant are 1000 maybe 1500 Quaziran Mark per year, a senior member from the government takes 7500 to 10 000 Mark per month, a Slave costs vary between 2000 and 4000 mark for males and 5000 to 8000 mark for females depending on age, skill and other factors.
Also they can be rewards, my father was such a case, he got his first slave as a reward to be named captain a year ago.”

“So basically your education is about half comprised of ideological conditioning?” - the intelligence officer asked.

“ Well if you put it that way.” He motioned to the TV “ I studied a bit over the last days, so I see that we are behind. I’m guessing most people will have problems once the war is over. Especially the ones who took the voluntary education to get the better jobs. Still that doesn’t explain why such a highly developted country would care for mere terrorists. That’s what the last two years in school were based on after their attacks on villages began.” Or was that another lie ? One of the many lies the Presidential Bureau had produced.

“I don’t understand the question? Which terrorists do you mean?” - asked the Allanean.
“ The ones you are supporting, This self proclaimed Queen who is introducing the old ways and common sacrifices an… I just don’t understand anymore. A few days ago I had a clear path more or less but now… I just don’t understand it anymore.”

“The Free Kingdom of Allanea is being utterly selfish. Our national policy calls for making a consistent effort for the abolition of slavery and oppression, not only because we view it to be an ethical good, but because freer countries are wealthier and more likely to be our allies. This stance has made us reputable and famous around the world, and gained us alliance with some of the mightiest nations that exist - Menelmacar, the C’tan, Lyras, all of these and many others form ties of kinship and friendship with Allanea. It is our policy to consider any government which permits slavery to be, essentially, a gang of land pirates, entirely illegitimate. So as far as the Allaneans are concerned, it’s your ‘government’, so to speak, which is the terrorists. As for human sacrifices, do you know that your leadership has sacrificed three small children a few days ago?”

For a few seconds there was utterly silence.
“ That is absolutely impossible… the government they wouldn’t… They rooted them out in the 1960s because of their practice of human sacrifices. You must be lying.” He tried to sense any lie, any twitch betraying a fabricated story, any loophole but in the end he found none.
“ That is unless… oh this…” what followed were some choosen words in Quaziran including some oblivious curses...

“You understand now, perhaps, why we are here.” - said the Allanean officer, in a statement that seemed to somewhat be opposed to basic causality.

“ Well, yes… do you know what this means ? For me, for the average Quaziran for…” He tried to find the right words but once again he failed.
“ Once this new Government is installed, there will be rough years, many people won’t believe what you are telling I guess, it’s hard for me to understand and I SAW what you’re capable of.”

“The good part is that we’ll be helping you along,” - said the Allanean. “Besides, you’re a soldier. You’ll manage.”

[Quazira]

2 weeks later

For a change Veilora seemed to bless the resistance. First shipments from international allies had arrived and the numbers of Soldiers had increased tenfold. English became the major language, replacing the native Quaziran language.
It was one week since the Quaziran resistance had shifted towards the old main temple of Dragos, giving Allanea enough space for own operations. Now the HQ was holding over 10 000 Quazirans and several hundred volunteers from different countries.
General Greens new residence was placed in the highest tower of the temple just beyond the Queen and Crown Princess.
Again he checked the numbers. From the 8 000 new recruits, 2000 had received the basic instruction and everyday the cadets were improving.
Soon enough they would take sail towards Quazira and the return would be glorious.
" Sir ?" His Adjutant interupted him midway in his inspection.
" Yes Fergus what is it ?"
" A new shipment. The guns we're expecting. Enough to outfit the whole army, a million magazines."
" Very good once they are checked tell the Dragos Legion that the guns should be spread immedietly. We have a week, maybe two before the war is comming towards Quazira, we must be ready."
" Yes sir !"
He took a last sweep and he had a slight smile on his face.
They would be ready, 60 years were more then enough time, it was time for revenge...

[Allanea]

Aboard the FKS Hedgehog, 2500 kilometers away from the Quaziran Coast

The conference room was rather small – the entire crew of the Hedgehog was only a few dozen men, and not all of them needed to be here. Captain Yegor Petrovsky, a tall, serious looking man, with closely-cut blond hair, paced the room, as the digital screen behind him lit up with an image of a Quaziran SAM site, as photographed from a satellite.

"Ladies and gentlebeings, as you might know, in previous actions our heroic fighter pilots have nearly completely eradicated the slaver navy, inflicting ninety percent casualties and wiping out more than a hundred slaver ships. This allows us to operate entirely fucking unimpeded. Every minute, our ships engines bring us closer and closer to the slaver foe, the Chavez organization that has illegally monopolized government in fair Quazira. Our primary objective is to use target coordinates provided to us by our allies and by satellite reconnaissance to disable the enemy's SAM sites and airfields. Our secondary objective is to soften up their military positions in general, to allow for air operations by our own and allied forces. This operation is codenamed Virtue Dawn. You know your duty. You are to check over the missile cells one more time, and then prepare them for launch based on the coordinates we have been given."

The Captain pauses.

"Between us and our sister ship, the FKS Manticore, we are armed with one thousand advanced, stealthy cruise missiles. Each of them has cost the taxpayer one and a half million crowns. Let's make each of them count."

*

There is a loud roaring, wooshing sound as the first of the missiles rises skywards, propelled on a pillar of smoke and a glowing flame. It takes a few seconds for the second one to fire – just long enough pause that the missiles do not risk flying into each other in the air. As they rise skywards, they turn, and are flying horizontally now, small winglets opening, carrying them aloft into the winds.

As the ship continues to move, drawing closer and closer towards the enemy shore – it continued its bombardment, launching missile after missile. So does the other ship. The missiles are stealthy animals, their bodies shaped to reduce RADAR return, their navigation system not dependent on any kind of active impulse – it merely listens to signals from the CANASS navigation satellites, and uses them to steer itself with precision to where it has been told the targets are, precisely along the route that had been preprogrammed into it.

Even as these missiles are in the air, programs for more routes are being uploaded into more missiles, and they, too, launch in turn.

They continue – here is one with a heavy, unitary explosive warhead, intended to smash into a suspected arms warehouse. Here's one with several dozen anti-vehicle bomblets, intended to smash into a tank park.

The primary goal of the attack is to engage SAM sites, RADAR installations, and military airfields around the capital and around the major cities. The precision-guided missiles are budgeted primarily with that in mind – but there are still a few missiles, a three-digit amount of missiles, both unitary warhead and anti-vehicle submunition carriers, aimed at the large military barracks and tank parks near the capital and near Silverberg.

In total, a thousand missiles is fired within nearly a day, spaced out just far enough to avoid them running into each other. The Allaneans hope that the enemy's outdated, 1970s RADAR will not be able to spot the missiles. Perhaps they are right. Perhaps they are wrong.

But on the island, the 458th Fighter Air Regiment is already spooling up its engines. Soon their time will come.

[Quazira]

Royal Palace in Silberberg

" ... and that's why we believe that this wondrous weapons used in Port Isabella and Northport are not 100 % functioning. Again I petion for a complete sweap against this rebels..."
" Denied General." Chavez voice was bored, 3 weeks after the last great attack gave him some confidence back. Yes the Rebels were a threat but apparently it would be a war on eye height. " Now General Rodriquez, how is the mobilization ?"
" Nearly completed Mr. President, the last regiments will be stationed this week. We can strike within the end of the month."
" Excellent, I'm sure you're men will be rewarded for this ta..."
BOOM
The explosion was audible trough most of the city.
" What wa..."
BOOM
A larger Explosion, this time near the palace.
Several sirens could be heard trough the city.
" We're under attack ! Mr. President please follow us to the emergency quarters." While the Generals are all out of Conflicts for years some habbits were never forgotten and working under pressure belonged to this habbits.
No one took the time to watch the masterful art of destruction Allanea had produced it would be only later revealed that this was only the beginning of a much bigger operation.
It was also unknown to the government that several house slaves would use this cacophony of havoc to escape, towards the only place that would give them a safe harbor.
The Isabella Archipelago.

One hour later:

From a display the whole command staff viewed the attack via live stream, knowing that the video would be broadcasted in Quazira soon enough.
" From the view of the Satelite Pictures it was a complete success. " Estimated Civilian Looses under 100 persons." One of the Allanean analysts confirmed.
Queen Isabella noted. " General Green what's your status ?"
" We could take 6000 men to Quazira right now, give us another 2 weeks and we have 10 000. Adding the 1500 volunteers from abroad and we have enough men to take more then a simple beach head, one of the natural harbors if we are in luck."
The Queen turned to Kimsky " We should use this... havoc to take the war into Quazira as long as they are occupied with the question what happened. I took the liberty to requisition a few ships, enough for my men to take the leap towards Northport within a few days. You're help would be greatly appreciated."

[Allanea]

Kimsky smiled as he looked at the Queen.

"Ma'am, I have said it before and I say it again. Within twenty-four hours Allanean infantry will be in the capital.”

*

Three hours later

Colonel Kimsky was now really doing his job, seated in the cockpit of an F/A-16 Priest. Every available bomb rack and hardpoint carried as many bombs as possible – ordinary, unguided bombs, but for their next mission, they did not need to be satellite-guided types. The onboard targeting computers on a modern fighter jet allowed the Allaneans to lay a dumb bomb within a thirty-meter circle – and this was quite sufficient to hit a large barracks building, a formation of tanks, or an enemy runway. And, of course, no manner of jamming could stop a dumb bomb. You could just as well try and jam a brick. The only thing the enemy could do is try to shoot at the bombs with their AA guns... but of course most of their AA guns had just been wrecked by a hail of cruise missiles.

The planes flew at a level altitude of six kilometers. Below them, the pilots could see pillars of black, oily smoke rising from places were armored vehicles, ammunition stockpiles and fuel dumps continued to burn, the devastated remains of what had just a few hours ago been a tyrant's entire military force.

They passed over the mountains, the pilots' hands moving, by learned reflex, to the release buttons on their control yokes. Already, on the screens of their targetig computers, they could see the blips that designated approaching targets.

Munitions deployed. – said a steely, feminine voice in Kimsky's headset, the voice of the plane's electronic system. Munitions deployed - repeated the voice.

Even now, he knew, dozens and dozens of five-hunded pound bombs were falling down towards the ground, the air shrieking around their stabilizer fins as they fell – towards the massive tank hangars of the enemy, the barracks buildings, the runways, and any place where surviving tanks were seen parked. Between him and his twenty-four comrades, they carried precisely six hundred bombs. Of course, these bombs have been in storage quite a while – not all of them would explode. But as he banked his plane, turning over the city, he saw the boiling clouds of dozens upon dozens of explosions rise from the ground, a signal that – whatever damage the bombs did or did not do – most of them at least exploded.

It took the Colonel only fifteen minutes to return to base, crossing the short distance between Quazira and the islands. As he landed, he did not exit his cockpit at all – he simply waited as technicians fit new bombs to his plane. He did not even need to refuel – the next target was only two hundred kilometers away. As his plane roared down the runway again, the Colonel looked across to the other runway, the one where cargo planes were parked. He saw the paratroopers – hundreds of them, tall, muscular, well-built – already waiting their turn by their aircraft.

Once more the bombs were deposed onto an enemy quarters – this time, the military bases next to the port city.

On the third run, now in the early afternoon, the Colonel and his friends pulled out a small, white pill from the medkit each of them had on their front pocket, and swallowed it. The pill was sweet – half sugar and half aviation-grade modafinil, intended exactly for this purpose. With the aid of these drugs, the pilots could run mission after mission for about a week without sleep, striking again and again without ill effects to their health. By the time they required rest, their job would be done.

Now they flew again, for last time, towards the capital – but this time they did not fly alone. This time they were escorting three enormous cargo planes – C-10 Minotaurs, the creation of Lyran Arms's engineers.

Six hundred more bombs dropped for one last time, guided bombs this time, coming down with expert precision, explosions boiling up the ground around supected enemy positions...

Aboard one of the Minotaurs

The planes were descending gradually, approaching their target location. Shouting over the roar of the immense engines, the commander of the 654th Parachute Regiment called out of his men:

"Freemen!

Now Allanea deploys its most dangerous weapon! Not fucking bombs! Not fucking cruise missiles! Fucking men! These slaver pond scum have not even begun to see fear! They think fear is what the Navy brings! They think fear is what the Air Force brings! They have not fucking seen anything yet! Because they! Have not! Seen us! MEN AND WOMEN OF THE SIX HUNDRED FIFTY FOURTH REGIMENT!” - the noise grew intolerable, as the ramp began to open, air from the outside beginning to rush into the plane. “LET US TEACH THEM A LESSON IN FEAR!”

In rapid succession, dozens upon dozens of men flung themselves out of the plane, some alone, others accompanied by boxes of equipment. They fell rapidly through the skies, refusing to pull their parachute ripcords yet, biding their time – a man in freefall is almost impossible to hit with small arms fire – until the last possible moment, the parachutes opening only as close to the ground as could be safely done.

The drop location was directly on and around the ruins of the enemy's division camp, which the Allaneans were hoping to capture.

The commander of the regiment – a tall, muscled, bearded man – hit the ground first, his feet catching painfully on the ground. As he cut off his now-useless parachute, he raised his carbine, firing three tracer rounds in the direction of the enemy.

"MEN! FOLLOW ME! NOBODY BUT US!”

[Quazira]

The safe room, Quaziran Headquarter in Silberberg:

The bombing had begun again, this time more explosions erupted within the city.
" We lost our connection to Silberberg Mr President, sir ! No answers to our distress calls."
" How long until the patrol will be back ?"
" 2 Days at least sir."
" That's too long. What do we have ?"
" The Presidential guard, 150 men at duty as ordered they can delay them for a bit but if they hit us with a full blown attack. I suggest you take the Emergency tunnels Sir, survive today, hit another day." The young man took his service pistol.
" I will help the guards, they will never get me alive."
President Chavez nodded, knowing that this was a battle he couldn't win, the whole war was a problem he couldn't solve.
No he had no choice but to flee, taking the same route as his enemy.
At the start of 8 mile tunnel trough the mountains stood an old but trustworthy Mercedes replika. The route would take him to Port Quazira within 3 hours, the most western Harbor was his best bet reaching a ship away from Quazira.
When he reached the outside he could allready hear the noises of war from the palace.
' So this is where everything ends ?' His little realm was destroyed, his life was worthless now without an army to back him up.
He would need friends, people he could trust, people who would give him better weapons yes that was the spirit.
They would pay, Isabella would pay, he would take the younger one as his personal slave, he would ignite Quazira when he returned. Oh his return would be glorious !
Unknown to him he would never reach the City.

Headquarter of the Allanean Troops:

The Satelite pictures recorded the car five minute after it leaved the tunnel. " We have movement, repeat we have movement outside Silberberg."
General Green paused for a moment before he turned his microphone on. " Colonel Kimsky, how many bombs your Squad has left over ? We have a suspicious Car out of nowhere, ~ 10 Miles from the Palace heading towards Port Quazira."

[Allanea]

High in the air, just about to turn home from another bombing run, Kimsky received the call. “Bomb? No bombs right now, Your Majesty, but I think I have got something even better, over.” - as he spoke, he thumbed a switch on his control yoke. As the plane turned, at the incredible speed of jet aircraft, it would be on its target within minutes.

"Pinky, you form on me, everyone else return to base,” - said the Kimsky. Now there were two fighter jets in the empty skies, speeding to where the suspicious car was. As they slowed down to approach it, to a speed that was merely fast rather than crazy fast, Kimsky could see the shape of the car on his infra-red vision screen. It was alone on the road – speeding away towards the port city.

The plane's lone gun – really, two guns linked together into a single mechanism called a 'Gast' – moved in its cradle, one barrel firing, then as it moved backwards, the mechanism reloading the other barrel and firing again. All of this in rapid succession, as Kimsky put out its entire two-hundred-round magazine onto the target within less than five seconds. Then, his wingman followed up.

*

Meanwhile, the commander of the 654th Parachute regiment within the wrecked ruins of the enemy's division headquarters. The roof had several large holes in it, punched through by Allanean bombs, and everywhere there was death and destruction. The Allaneans have taken the base easily, with casualties only in the low double-digits – the enemy's troops have never been very good, and they have been shell-shocked by the incredible bombings.

As he watched, Allanean troops carried past him the captured banners of enemy divisions and regiments. Some of them were quite torn up, but that did not matter. From now on they would be displayed in the 654th Regimental Headquarters as a trophy.

"Put me in contact with the Quaziran government headquarters,” - said the Colonel brusquely. A radioman complied instantly, of course he knew that by “Quaziran government” the real Quaziran government, that of the Queen, would be meant.

"Your Majesty,” - the Colonel reported. “Our troops have now captured the military base in the capital, and are prepared to greet your arrival.”

[Quazira]

High in the air, just about to turn home from another bombing run, Kimsky received the call. “Bomb? No bombs right now, Your Majesty, but I think I have got something even better, over.” - as he spoke, he thumbed a switch on his control yoke. As the plane turned, at the incredible speed of jet aircraft, it would be on its target within minutes.

"Pinky, you form on me, everyone else return to base,” - said the Kimsky. Now there were two fighter jets in the empty skies, speeding to where the suspicious car was. As they slowed down to approach it, to a speed that was merely fast rather than crazy fast, Kimsky could see the shape of the car on his infra-red vision screen. It was alone on the road – speeding away towards the port city.

The plane's lone gun – really, two guns linked together into a single mechanism called a 'Gast' – moved in its cradle, one barrel firing, then as it moved backwards, the mechanism reloading the other barrel and firing again. All of this in rapid succession, as Kimsky put out its entire two-hundred-round magazine onto the target within less than five seconds. Then, his wingman followed up.

*

Meanwhile, the commander of the 654th Parachute regiment within the wrecked ruins of the enemy's division headquarters. The roof had several large holes in it, punched through by Allanean bombs, and everywhere there was death and destruction. The Allaneans have taken the base easily, with casualties only in the low double-digits – the enemy's troops have never been very good, and they have been shell-shocked by the incredible bombings.

As he watched, Allanean troops carried past him the captured banners of enemy divisions and regiments. Some of them were quite torn up, but that did not matter. From now on they would be displayed in the 654th Regimental Headquarters as a trophy.

"Put me in contact with the Quaziran government headquarters,” - said the Colonel brusquely. A radioman complied instantly, of course he knew that by “Quaziran government” the real Quaziran government, that of the Queen, would be meant.

"Your Majesty,” - the Colonel reported. “Our troops have now captured the military base in the capital, and are prepared to greet your arrival.”

The road towards Port Quazira

Chavez was midway in his imagination how painful the death of the Queen would be when he heard something he couldn't interpret. The next thing he knew was a constant volley of rounds towards his car. It was hit midway and a large explosion erupted, making night to day for a few seconds.
Once the light cleared only a huge gap in the old asphalt remained. No survivor could be spotted with the lone eye and most other sensors still had problems with the sudden wave of heat.

Quaziran Headquarter - old temple of Dragos

Within seconds the receiver in the command room was buzzing, giving the fact that the mission was known beforehand the room was full manned.
" Private Aber... yes sir, of course sir."
He turned to the room, everyone seemed to hold his breath. " Full success, there's a colonel who wants to speak with you your highness.
Grinning like a chessire cat Queen Isabella V took the headset.
" I'm listening Colonel, can you confirm the good news ?"