A Bold Grenadier [Earth2|Closed]

[Itailian Maifias]

Generaal Marthys Penders O.H.O. B.L. B.C.
EDP Joint Base Delphi, outside London, Banjamos
June 7th, 2014, 11:31 AM [GMT+0]



" So, eager for the summit today? "

Marthys looked left to his young aide, a Captain Timetheous Brekelmans, who had just poured himself a nice cup of coffee into a mug that had the European Defence Pact logo, a giant blue shield with five stars encircling it's interior with the initials E.D.P in gold block letters in the center, emblazoned on the front of it before taking a seat next to Marthys who was looking out of his temporary office here at the EDP Base Delphi, one of the few bases that were established throughout EDP member states when the alliance was founded nearly four years ago. Normally, the bases were commanded by a officer appointed by the leadership of the alliance, but Penders wasn't here to command the base. No, he had been pulled from his command in the Invasion of Pakistan to represent the Kingdom of Holland in this year's annual summit review of the alliance; the alliance's big to do meeting of the year where they reviewed and possibly changed all policies and considered other amendments and actions; and Penders was sure he was going to get a hell of a lot of flak from the Banjamoni representatives, which if he recalled correctly, was the Emperor or his representative, and no less then five senior Banjami MP's. Penders looked at his much younger friend and smiled " Never. I'm still struggling to realize why they pulled me from command in a warzone to come here to this nonsense."

" Possibly because they want the Kingdom's best general in a century to represent them. That, and they did say you'd be restored to your former command once this summit is over, which is only set to last a week I remind you."

Penders snorted " I could finish this war in a week"

Tim took a sip out of his mug before grabbing up a leather portfolio and handed it to Penders, who slid off of his stool and began walking out of the building with Tim, through the open air, neatly maintained campus of the base. " Even so, they're going to need you in there today. We can't let ourselves be distracted by Pakistan, Bagram, anything. So, take this binder, I left you a few notes in there knowing how much you hate paperwork, read up on the drive over and I'll see you there."

Penders took the portfolio and nodded in thanks as he stepped into the awaiting Lincoln town car which would then pull out of the long drive and out of the modernized fort in the heart of the Banjamosi countryside, taking about an hour to make it's way through the narrow roads and busy corridors before arriving at Westminster Palace where the summit was being held, in some special room instead of the actual meeting place of any legislature. Time to go have some fun, convincing them to help the EDP

[Cotland]

London, Banjamos
7 June, 2014

As always, when the European Defence Pact gathered to have their annual meeting, the Cottish Intelligence Service (CIS) did its utmost to clandestinely garner an insight into what was being discussed. Depending on the locale of the meeting, the Cottish spymasters had a number of tools available. Illegal intelligence officers operating without diplomatic cover of any form might go in to try to plant bugs (or more realistically, use corruptable local citizens with access to do the same), long-range eavesdropping devices might be employed, small, sophisticated eavesdropping apps might be clandestinely hacked or downloaded and installed onto smartphones belonging to people with access to the meeting, or photocopying or outright theft of documents left untended in hotel rooms or other facilities might be carried out.

In this case, a few Cottish illegal intelligence officers, inserted into Banjamos several years earlier who had gone undetected by the Banjamo Security Services had bribed and/or coerced a few cleaning and admin staff within the Westminster Palace to plant listening and recording devices in the meeting rooms, on pain of having their respective skeletons pulled out from the closet into broad daylight if they didn't comply.

The CIS would hopefully get an eye onto what the EDP was planning this year around too.

OOC: aka tagged for interest!

[Layarteb]

.:. deleted .:.

[Brydog]

European Operations Desk, FAW/FVA(Federal Intelligence Agency)
Wroclaw, Poland, CEF
June 7. 2014


The FIA or FAW/FVA in its native languages had received the Polish, Czech and Slovakian based assets of the Lazcone foreign intelligence service. The EDP meeting was a important intellegence target based on the fact that the nation neighbored the Dutch. The European Operations Desk tasked with the operation, and Slavomír Medved was the EurOps chief, and he reported to the Deputy Director for Covert Operations as he was responsible for the "black stuff". He was in contact with the Station Chief in London, a Pole named Lesława Slusarczyk, who was a schoolmate with the Foreign Minister at Charles University. She was the one actually running the operation, as the "Queen of the Plumbers", a nickname given to her because most of the assets she used were tradespeople like plumbers and electricians. They were already planning how to get stuff into the Palace, and they knew others were doing the same.

[Itailian Maifias]

Generaal Marthys Penders O.H.O. B.L. B.C.
Westminister Palace, London, Empire of Banjamos
June 7th, 2014, 12:34 PM [GMT+0]


" Operations in Amigard continue slowly and Operation Arabian Prince is now two years over schedule. His Majesty King Willem and Prime Minister Soer asked me to convey once again a request for Banjamosi troops in the region, with our commitment now up to four hundred thousands troops, we need to pull back to strengthen our European defenses. The Lacoze Federation still stands and we must be ready for the day they come, we need your help with this matter."

Marthys looked up with an attempted convicted face at the four Members of Parliament that sat behind a circular raised wooden bench, all wearing various forms of business dress and all who currently looked more emotionally disconnected from the meeting then Marthys thought possible. His presence here was two fold; he was the most successful European general in three decades, leading the Dutch from an insignificant northern European state to one of the two superpowers on the continent, successfully leading the Dutch troops in the Russian Invasion of Persia, the French campaign, and now the war in Pakistan, a war which needed him instead of this ridiculous statesmen. The fact of reality was blunt, the Dutch Army was stretched to the maximum. A large portion of her divisions were taken up by the mandatory garrison requirement for the border forts along the Dutch-Lacoze border and what was left was struggling to handle the Pakistani War and the massive stability operation in Amigard; the four hundred thousand troops deployed were two years overdue on their mission and they were sorely needed back home or in Pakistan. If the Banjamosi could commit troops to Amigard, some stress could be relieved but their stubborn new Emperor refused everything.

Samuel Ivers was the Chairman of the Council on the 4th Annual Eurasian Defence Pact Summit, a rather large man from northern England Mathys believed, his six four frame easily dominated his wirey compatriots, and his thick blonde hair was brushed into a comb over and thin spectacles with a golden frame sat on his thin nose. He himself was particularly harsh in this meeting and led the opposition, which was everyone it seemed. " Why should the Empire commit resources to a failed campaign? The Amigardians have lost heart, leave them to their own fates. If they can not control their own people then they have forfeit their right to rule. There is no need to waste any of our lives, or yours for that matter, over in that hot wasteland."

" The Amigardians have lasted longer then any nation represented in this room and the international community can not just stand by and let it dissolve into a unstable region of warlords. TOA could easily exploit the region for it's oil exports and then we'd be even more screwed. The Theocracy is easily the most strategic member of this alliance; we must do everything in our power to keep it secure and stable."

The argument like this would go back and forth, Ivers and Penders exchanging verbal blows like two seasoned fighters in a ring, and just as the hour was nearly thirty minutes to five o clock in the afternoon, six hours into the summit, just as the delegations had taken a break from the discussion of the Central European Missile Command's latest new silo's in southern France, when a large explosion was heard, and the whole room suddenly shook quite forcefully, dust falling in large amounts from the ceiling and several windows in the back of the room shattered, flinging thousands of glass fragments into the room. The MP's were thrown from their chairs and even Penders was caught unaware and manage to fall out of his chair and hit the floor. There was several more louder explosions, something the MP's wouldn't recognize, but Penders ears knew it quite well; the sound of bombs and gunfire.

As Penders picked himself up, the doors to the room exploded open, likely from a breaching charge, shattering the center of the doors and blasting them off of their frames, sending them flying into the room, soldiers in full black uniforms with heavy tactical gear and assault rifles entered the room. They instantly killed one of the Constables at the back of the room and a second after he tried opening fire with his pistol. Penders ran for the huge desk the MP's were behind, grabbing the pistol of one of the fallen MP's on his way, a hail of gunfire chasing him all the way to the desk, several of the bullets just nearly missing his heels. As he took cover and caught his breath behind the desk, he quickly surveyed the MP's; one was unconscious from the fall from his chair and had a head wound, the others were all in shock, except Ivers who had taken off his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves on his white button up. The removal of the jacket revealed a side arm holster on his right hip, a L9A1 sidearm. He took a breath and, amazingly to Penders, stood up just over the bench and fired off four rounds before tucking down as a hail of bullets from the unknown attackers. Penders stood up to fire, and discovered one of the men advancing on the bench, nearly sprinting. Penders fired off three rounds, two hitting the man in his torso and one in the neck. He quickly fell forward and landed just right of the bench and Penders ducked down, pulling the dead man behind the bench with him. Sporadic gunfire from Ivers and the gunmen kept the two parties occupied as Penders flipped over the body and examined it, noticing the man was using a L86A2, and had a Banjamosi Army webbing on his body with several magazines for his rifle. Penders awkwardly picked up the rifle, never having fired anything like it before when he heard Ivers shout something. " Toss it here General, I'm quite familiar with them."

Penders gave him a wary look before tossing the rifle and the webbing rig at him. It took Ivers a matter of seconds to check the weapon, change it's mod to semi automatic fire and then turn the corner of the bench and open fire, taking down three of the exposed gunmen with just a few bursts of his gun. He ducked around the corner just as a hail of rounds slapped into the drywall behind him. Ivers quickly changed out the magazine out of his rifle and put a fresh one in, and then a the count of three both he and Penders stood up and fired quick successive rounds from their firearms, quickly downing the two remaining gunmen. Ivers advanced forward quickly, Penders joining him when Ivers noticed the gash on Penders' right arm. " You okay General? "

" Nothing bad, I've seen worse. Where the hell did a politician learn to fight like that?"

Ivers smiled " Welsh Guards when I was but a lad. I'm quite familiar with the military, just rather quite about it. Come on you buggers if you want to live, you'll follow me and the General here."

The MP's slowly moved from behind the bench and moved with Penders and Ivers as they moved out of the room and into the exterior of Westminister Palace. Penders could see something was gone wrong, flames were coming from numerous places, a section of the Palace's walls had been blown out and the clock tower housing Big Ben had taken what looked like a tank or artillery shell across it's mid section. Penders heard Ivers mutter something before dashing towards the breach in the Palace walls, Ivers scanning the surrounding area for any hostiles " Ivers, what the hell is going on?"

" Well, as I'm sure you noticed, ever since the Emperor's coup, things have not been so stable, and a number of lets say..rebellious factions have cropped up. It appears one of them has made a move, and now we're moving to meet up with mine."

" Yours? "

" Roughly put, we seek to return the pre-socialist monarchy. It's time for our nation to return to it's true self. I've managed to get a small number of generals to join me, we have a headquarters in Kent which is where we'll be going now."

As they walked through the breach in the walls, dozens of Metro Police dead on the sidewalks and streets, an Army Merlin helicopter was awaiting for them, with a number of Banjamosi soldiers spread out in a protective circle. They were bustled into the chopper and then soon, it was taking off, heading south towards Kent and leaving a burning London behind.

[Itailian Maifias]

Air Commodore Ethan Day O.B.E. D.F.C. A.F.C.
RAF Leeming, Gatenby, Northallerton, Banjamos
June 8th, 2014, 2:31 AM [GMT+0]

"Leeming Control to all Panthera flights, you are cleared for take off, begin descending run off with Panthera 1 to kick it off."

The two lines of Tornado ADV's on both runways of the Royal Air Force base already had their jet engines fired up, the load roaring just beginning to get above a purr as the lead pilot began initiating his launch and was soon cruising down the runway, one after another has all twenty planes were very eager to get into the air, and begin their soon to be historical mission.

No. 533 Squadron was an interceptor Fast Reaction squadron that had been formed in 1998 to help counter Cottish fly-overs by the Banjamosi government was equipped with twenty of the most up to date Tornado ADV's operated in the IBAF; maintenance had become an issue with the clampdowns on excessive defense spending but since No. 533 was a IFR squadron, it got top priority. Unfortunately, the government was beginning to regret that. Air Commodore Ethan Day, a decorated Banjamosi pilot for nearly two and a half decades, was the commander of RAF Leeming, which had two interceptor squadrons with Tornado ADVs in them and then an additional squadron of Tornado GR4's for ground attack and strike roles; and he had also unfortunately committed to one of the rebellious factions contending for the Banjamosi throne. The faction he had committed to was led by a retired Imperial Guard officer, he never introduced himself fully and everyone just called him Malcolm, but a significant portion of the Imperial Guard had defected to him, as well as some Army and some RAF units; Ethan's command was the largest to join him and thus why they got this vital mission. HMNB Portsmouth was just a pond stone leap away and there was quite an important target; Carrier Battle Group 2, with the H.M.S. Ark Royal, the Royal Navy's flagship, docked there for the next week on liberty leave and a brief lull in patrol duties; if Ethan could destroy the flagship of the Navy, who had completely remained loyal to the Banjamosi Government minus a few patrol craft, it would be a poignant victory; besides, his Tornado's had every advantage over the Harrier's still employed by the Fleet Air Arm and the 55 or so of them that were on the Ark Royal; his Tornados had much better radar, were far faster and could carry many more munitions then the Harriers did; Ethan had already warned his pilots, he expected 2 kills from each pilot and if you got shot down and survived, don't bother coming back because you won't recover from such an embarrassment. As the fighters climbed higher and higher into the skies, and the last of them slipped off of the wet tarmac and boomed into the clouds ahead, Ethan already prepared to celebrate this assured victory.[/i]

Commodore Nicholas Edwards C.G.C. C.B.E.
H.M.S. Ark Royal (CVN-13), Queen Elizabeth II-class Aircraft Carrier, Carrier Battle Group 2
HMNB Portsmouth, England, Banjamos
June 8th, 2014, 2:37 AM[GMT+0]


" All Hands, now hear this, now hear this, General Quarters, I say again, General Quarters.."

The dron of the young enlisted man that was announcing the change to General Quarters over the ship wide intercom system, and then Nicholas turned his attention back to the board where each of his senior officers were carefully studying; a Sentinel 1 AWAC had already warned them of the approaching squadron of Tornados, and warned they may have hostile intentions given what happened in London, but what had happened was still sketchy. Contact with the Admiralty couldn't be made and what they did manage to hear from other units was that Westminister was attacked by Banjamosi soldiers; that was at 1:10. Fifteen minutes later, a IBAF base in Middlesex was hit by a rogue Harrier, and then Enfield was bombed by another group of Harriers and for the last hour, Nicholas was designating all detected airplanes hostile until confirmed otherwise. So far, no one had approached the carrier, which was scrambling to get underway, until the Sentinel which had confirmed it's allegiance to the government alerted them over the twenty bandits heading their way.

The situation was bad at best; the Tornado's were a superior plane then his Sea Harriers in nearly every way, the only thing the Harriers did better was V/TOL, as his carrier air group commander, air boss and executive officer had pointed out more then two times each. As he stared and stared hard at the terrain map, suddenly, looking at the stretch of land between HMNB Portsmouth and the direction the planes were coming in from RAF Leeming, and noticed there was alot of ground clutter on the ground; adjutant placed satellite images of the regions showed trees, rocks, houses, gulfs, hills. Normally dangers to anything flying and any pilot; but wonderful if you're trying to mess up some radars. He then pulled the map out on top of everything and placed it down flat, everyone around the table looking at him curiously and then he addressed Commander Lauren Byrant, the Carrier Air Group commander.

" I think I got it Byrant. Look here, if the Harriers take off now before the Tornado's get in range to detect them, fly them low to the ground. Dirt licking and rock eating low, and keep their actives off.."

The light bulb inside Lauren's head immediately went off and she began nodding her head in eager excitement " and then have them use the RWR to detect the Tornado and once they're in weapons range, go hot and light them up. If the Harriers can fire first, we might stand a chance."

" Think your pilots are up to it? "

" Most of them are veterans, thankfully, of the Belgium campaigns. I have full confidence in their training; provided the damn jets don't fall apart on the way over."

The Sea Harriers' notorious track record was infamous in the Fleet Air Arm; part of the reason they had been pushing for a replacement to no avail since 2006.
" Alright let's do it. Get all the Harriers scrambled and into position."

Lieutenant Commander Morgan Gibson A.F.C.
BA Harrier GR9, 809 Naval Air Squadron, west of HMNB Portsmouth
June 8th, 2014, 2:51 AM [GMT+0]

" Falcon Lead to all call signs, keep your actives off and keep it low ladies, wait for my call to hit it off."

The Harriers had already been flying dirt low, just barely above one hundred feet and with their active radars off to prevent the flight of twenty interceptors from catching them; the ADV's had powerful sensors meant to intercept Layartebian and Cottish bombers and fighters, so it could easily ping one of their own Harrier, and each pilot was struggling to use the not so definitive RWR, a form of passive radar, to try and pinpoint where the Tornado's were coming from and then from there they could get lock ons with the AIM-120's they had on each wing; calculations showed they'd probably only get 2 shots each, or need it really. 2 shots each bird, with a factored in failure rate, would still give 88 missiles versus 20 fighters; no matter how advanced your plane is, those are some really shitty odds.

A few minutes went by as the Harriers soared around before contacts began pinging in on their RWR's, and many pilot's hands eagerly jumped for their throttle button " All Falcons, hold. Hold. Wait for them to fly over before turning 180 degrees and engaging. On my mark..."

The interceptors were hauling ass; definitely pushing their maximum speeds and it only took them thirty seconds to roar over the Harriers. At that point Morgan began counting. 1...2...3...

At the count of 12, he heard his radio buzz alive again " Falcon, weapons hot. Light the bastards up."

The fifty five jump jets all turned to face the group that was now flying away towards them and then flipped on their active radars, immediately displaying themselves for everyone nearby with a decent radar and avionics suite installed and just four seconds after they activated their radars, there was one hundred and then AIM-120's in the air, screaming straight for the interceptors; nineteen of them failed, but the rest of them impacted with their targets and soon eighteen fireballs ripped through the sky; two of the Tornados were lucky bastards and had managed to deploy chaff effectively before soaring around to make a go at the Harriers. Morgan's jet was the closest and he quickly slammed on the throttle and confirmed with a lock with his third AIM-120 and fired it away, screaming away Fox 3 into his radio, but the missile was fooled away by more chaff from the lead interceptor.

Morgan silently cursed himself; he only had 3 AIM's, which were BVRM (Beyond Visual Range Missiles), he'd now have to wait for the distance between them to close significantly to be able to use his Sidewinders, and he noticed something. The Harriers had risen to two thousand feet and the ground clutter would mask them less this high up and so he quickly began lowering the nose of his plane just so slightly; he didn't want to scream into a nose dive and risk heavy stress damage, and it'd still be forty seconds till engagement range with Sidewinders. In forty seconds, Morgan shaved off one thousand eight hundred feet from his altitude and was now so close to eating dirt for lunch; his HUD began pinging out warnings as one of the Tornados got a soft lock on him and soon, two tango missiles were in the air. He turned left and popped out chaff, taking out one missile while the second slammed into the ground, failing to detonate it's warhead. He quickly grabbed the stroke of luck and fired off two Sidewinders at the oncoming Tornado, which sheared off its left wing with the first missile and then impacting the main body with its second before he fired off two more Sidewinders at the now final, and retreating, Tornado, both slamming into it's engines, destroying it.

The victory was completely unexpected; not a single Harrier was lost, and the entire enemy squadron had been entirely eliminated, all in the course of five minutes; less then half the time it took them to get in position, which had allowed the Ark Royal to get under way and she was now on her way to friendlier waters near HMNB Dover or Bristol, which each already had a battle group at each. A radio message had been picked up directing them that if they were still loyal to come to HMNB Dover for further instructions. The Commodore doubted it at first, however it had authenticated itself properly, something the rebels had always failed to do so far, so he took a leap of faith and the Ark Royal was just three hours away from the base, and a long conversation.

[Layarteb]

.:. deleted .:.

[Terra Reborn]

Commander Jessica Harrington DSO IN
HMS Gibraltar
English Channel
Sunday 8th June 2014, 0300hrs Local Time (1800hrs Imperial Capital Time, 0300hrs Zulu)

Compared to the Empire of Layarteb and the Realm of Cotland the British Isles had limited strategic interest to the Apilonian Empire. Sure there was the major fleet anchorage at Scapa Flow, and many historical and cultural ties going back hundreds of years, but the Empire had no actual territory, nor did it provide a direct threat to either’s interests in the region. Never the less between the presence of Scapa Flow, and the strategic influence on both of the Empire’s October Alliance allies, it stood to reason that the Empire would want to keep an eye on what was going on. The situation appeared to have been deteriorating, but as soon as the explosive had been detonated outside Westminster the decision had been made at the Imperial Admiralty to dispatch the nearest warship to get a bit closer and see if they could glean any useful information. The ship wouldn’t be there to cause trouble, merely to turn her radar and other sensors on southern England and take a look-see, just the kind of job that Imperial Warships had carried out many times before.

As it happened the nearest ship was HMS Gibraltar, a Type-26 Frigate under the command of Commander Jessica Harrington, recently returned from distinguished service off the coast of West Africa. She had assumed command of the Gibraltar mere days previously, and was taking her on a shakedown cruise of the North Atlantic before sailing back to Imperial West Africa for assignment on the South Atlantic Station. She had recently been awarded the Distinguished Service Order in the King’s Birthday Honours and her command of the Gibraltar was also in recognition for the stellar way in which she had ensured that the old destroyer Vendetta had been ready for whatever came its way, the fact that the crisis in west Africa had never deteriorated into a shooting war didn’t make it any less of a remarkable achievement, given the age of the ship and the inexperience of her crew. Command of a Frigate in the Imperial Navy was often seen as a plum assignment, oftentimes operating independently in varied roles, they would set successful officers up for a career in pretty much any ship in the Fleet, due to their versatility, except perhaps an Aircraft Carrier, for obvious reasons.

In the early hours of Sunday the Gibraltar was cruising slowly through the seas to the south of England, she was well into international waters but she was more than close enough for her purposes. If she was ever challenged then she would reply that they were transiting the English Channel before a series of port-visits in Cotland, exercising the right of free passage, but she was going awfully slowly about it, cruising at only ten knots. It was perhaps a bit suspicious, but she was technically doing nothing wrong, and besides, it was doubtful that with everything that was going on the Brits were going to waste effort on a single frigate that wasn’t doing anything threatening, or more importantly, screw around with a ship flying the Imperial White Ensign, the last bunch of people to do that had ended up at the bottom of the sea just off of East Timor only a few months previously. It was the perhaps blessed position that the Imperial Navy found itself in, serving one of the most powerful nations in the world certainly had advantages when it came to deterring attack.

Commander Harrington yawned to herself as she rolled over in the darkness of her cabin and groped blindly for the handset of the intercom that connected her directly to the bridge. Finding it she put it to her ear.

“Commanding Officer.”

“Captain, Ma’am, Officer of the Watch,” Sub-Lieutenant Daniel Cooper, the ship’s gunnery officer, whose assignment despite his rank was also recognition of his service during West Africa, replied crisply. “The PWO asked me to wake you and request your presence in the Ops Room, there’s something he wants you to see.”

“Alright, tell him I’ll be right down,” Harrington replied and put the phone down.

Marshalling what energy she could muster Harrington pulled herself to her feet and quickly pulled on her uniform, specifically No.3A Service Dress; white shirt and black slacks worn with a black tie and polished parade shoes, the standard uniform of an officer aboard ship out of combat conditions. It took her less than sixty seconds to get her clothes on and was out of the hatch and down the corridor whilst she was still doing up her tie. It took her less than two minutes to navigate through her ship to the Operations Room, the nerve centre of its war fighting capability.

“What’ve we got, PWO?” Harrington asked, looking at the large situation display screen, it showed the overall picture albeit not in as much detail as the individual stations would. “More bombings?”

“More like a full scale air battle over the Solent,” Lieutenant Commander Nathan Warner, the ship’s Principal Warfare Officer, replied dryly. “We can’t get much detail, but looks like about fifty aircraft, probably Sea Harriers, launched from around Portsmouth, against twenty aircraft from the North.”

“Those Sea Harriers probably came from a carrier,” Harrington commented thoughtfully. “Do we know what Ship the Brits have on the Solent?”

“If our intelligence is accurate, and it usually is in this part of the world, it’s the Aircraft Carrier Ark Royal,” Lt. Commander Warner replied with a slight smile. “Clearly the British aren’t above stealing names for their ships.”

“Well, Ark Royal is a good name for a Carrier, remember that ours has a battle record as long as my arm,” Harrington smiled. “In any case, this clearly goes beyond a few rouge guys blowing themselves up, this is a full-scale engagement between two opposing factions… this could get messy quickly.”

“Agreed, Ma’am,” Lt. Commander Warner nodded. “That’s why I woke you, I want to recommend that we go onto defence watches at zero six hundred.”

Harrington grimaced, and with good reason. Defence Watches were designed to allow a ship to keep as much has half of its crew awake at any given time regardless of their job role, if they weren’t already critical to the running of the ship they would man defensive weapons or be on emergency stand-by for fire-fighting and damage control parties. The idea was that the watches would switch places every six hours, allowing for a full, decent-sized sleep period for all hands, albeit at the expense of long periods of time on watch. It was not fun, it was not popular, but it was the only way, after all a ship on defence watches could maintain that degree of readiness almost indefinitely, compared to the mere hours that a ship could be maintained at action stations for without causing unavoidable fatigue to the crew that decreased the ships efficiency and combat capability. Never the less Harrington knew that her PWO was right, they were effectively in a war zone now and that meant that she had to take extra precautions to ensure the safety of her ship and crew.

“Very well, I don’t think we have any other choice at this point,” Harrington commented. “Communications Yeoman… make signal to Admiralty, inform them of the engagement we have witnessed and that my report will follow.”

“Aye-Aye Ma’am.”

“Commander, I want us to-“

“Ma’am, ships detected on radar coming out of the Solent,” the Surface Warfare Specialist on Watch reported suddenly, interrupting his Captain but given the circumstances she didn’t mind. “Looks like a flattop., heading eastwards.”

“I wonder where they are heading…” Lt. Commander Warner frowned. “Dover perhaps? There’s a small naval station there.”

“If they can bring that carrier alongside in Dover Harbour I’ll by that ship’s captain a bottle of port,” Harrington commented dryly. “One would presume they’ll anchor in the outer harbour… but I wonder why they are leaving Portsmouth… it mustn’t be safe for them.”

“God only knows what the tactical situation is ashore, Ma’am,” Lt. Commander Warner pointed out. “Clearly the south-east coast is safer territory, but I suppose the question that we need to answer is, which faction is which”

“Indeed we do, so we’ll need to keep our eyes open for any intelligence, get the EW boys to start listening into any unsecured radio nets, hell if they can intercept some of the secure military frequencies we know of try them,” Harrington replied. “In the meantime we need to stay out of this, our job here is to observe and report back, not get involved in a shooting match with half the British Fleet, I’d imagine the boys at Scapa Flow are going to be putting to sea soon, the Layartebians and Cottish must be going insane as well…”

“That’s probably a safe bet, the British Isles have been a powder keg for years, ever since they stopped being United its just gone from bad to worse… it’s a sad story really,” Lt. Commander Warner agreed. “And I rather doubt we’ll ever see them unified again, not even Great Britain itself, not with the Cots in charge of Scotland, for right or wrong…and god knows that was a screwed up war back when the Goodrule were around…”

“Indeed it was, but all we can do is deal with the situation in front of us, talk like that is for people well above our paygrade,” Harrington commented with a smile. “Alright Nathan, let’s start waking the senior staff, I want everyone to know the situation and what we’re doing about it… let’s be about it.”

[Itailian Maifias]

Generaal Marthys Penders O.H.O. B.L. B.C.
Aldershot Garrison, Kent
June 8th, 2014, 7:00 AM [GMT+1]

Aldershot Garrison, home to the 4, 6 and 8 Infantry Divisions was the second largest military installation inside England, just behind some of the garrisons that housed Armoured units in northern England or the defence bases along the Cottish border, which were meant to repel any attack from the Nordic nation.

When the rebel faction detonated the bomb inside Westminster Palace, the Imperial Guard which has defected in near totality also attacked several key installations around the Kingdom in hopes of preventing a counter-assault from forces loyal to the Government or those who still had yet to make up their mind. Aldershot was not exempt from this and a company of Imperial Guard mechanized troops had attacked the North side barracks and managed to capture it before AH-64D's from the 16th Air Assault Brigade managed to destroy their vehicles and infantry at Aldershot overwhelmed the remaining Guardsmen.

Marthys now sat inside a briefing room that was in the heart of the Command Building in the middle of the Aldershot campus, Ivers was sitting next to him and was now dressed in a Banjamosi Army combat uniform and there was several other similarly dressed officers now in the room, a briefing to get coordinate everything was just about to begin, with Ivers giving the presentation with a map of England and Wales in the background, with known units marked on the map. " At 1238 yesterday, a bomb that we would label a moderate sized IED was detonated outside the main entrance to Westminster Palace, killing 4 guards and destroying a police car. The explosion also destroyed the barricades in place to prevent vehicles from getting close to the Palace. At 1239, a military truck bearing Army markings smashed through the fence line and unloaded a full load of troops as we've been able to gather from CCTV feeds in the nearby area and they assaulted the palace, Metro Police were already on sight. At approximately 1246, a second bomb with a similar payload was detonated in one of the hallways, breaching through the outer walls and allowing direct access into the interior courtyard from the street and one minute later, twenty four gunmen entered through the breach and were engaged by Metro Police. Just before this, a Warrior IFV with a platoon of infantry supporting it attacked the Wellington Barracks and a similarly composed unit attacked the Royal Artillery Barracks, as well as the Hyde Park and all other remaining barracks in London."

One of the officers, a man from the 16th Air Assault Marthys guessed judging by his maroon beret, let out a low whistle " Jesus. Did anyone make it out? "

" We know Hyde Park and the Scots Guard detachment at Wellington are completely KIA, confirmed by a soldier in plainclothes who managed to get close to the barracks. Said Wellington looked like it got hit by a few rockets, maybe from a Apache, and Hyde Park looked like it had been bombed. But, we have managed to get in contact with some elements of 2nd Battalion of the Princess of Wales Royal Regiment and some of the Coldstream Guards, they took significant losses but we're already had them evaced. Somehow, the RLC's HQ element at Albany Street got completely overlooked and we were able to get some Merlins in the area to clear it for the Chinooks to rescue the lads. I believe they're debriefing at East Barracks now."

" Where's the battle lines? "

" Well, we know a RAF Squadron tried taking out the Ark Royal at Portsmouth. The stupid blokes got hoodwinked by the CAP and are a complete loss, and the Ark Royal has already pulled out of port and is sailing for Dover, where QE2's battlegroup is already waiting. Our initial guesses are everything north of London barring our Army facilites are in rebel control. We have confirmed that the Imperial Guard has seized Manchester from police units, as well as Liverpool, but no one's gone after the Hussars, so there's an advantage for us."

" Our initial plans are based on a few fronts; RAF Abingdon's commander, a Captain James McCullen, has confirmed his allegiance to the Government, but he only has a squadron of Tornado GR4's on site. He's also reported that Imperial Guard companies have tried assaulting but they were repelled, he fears the Guard will move in force to secure it soon and I agree. The 16th Air Assault will move in at 0900 and reinforce the base while the Irish Guards will move north with two battalions from the 143 Infantry Brigade and hold that position. We've been in contact with Catterick, and 2 of 4 Mechanized's battalions will move north to secure Richmond. Our initial operating goals is once we repel the assault on Abingdon, we can have DAF F-58's based there and can provided assistance with securing London and the Middlesex area. Our few air assets at the moment are attempting to destroy the jamming sites the rebels have in place."

" Jamming sites? " Penders jumped into the conversation; he wasn't aware the Banjamosi had jamming facilities

" Aye, its the reason we haven't been able to contact JB Delphi, or most of the other units. The Guard has appeared to placed numerous jamming sites along the English and Welsh coast, and even in London and Somerset, blocking communication and I think aimed at preventing us from regrouping to form a defense or a counter-assault. One of Abingdon's Tornado's took one out near Wiltshire, and the 16th took out two more in Surrey. It's our #2 priority for the destruction of these sites, behind retaking London."

" What about Delphi? There's a squadron of F-58's there, plus a full brigade."

" Can't get in contact, but we're sending the Welsh Guards to secure it's status, you're more then welcome to assist their commanding officer, Colonel Nick Hurst."

" I think I will."

[Layarteb]

.:. deleted .:.

[Cotland]

June 8, 2014
Cottish Scotland

As the Layartebians correctly surmised from their experiences and the shared intelligence and communications lines between the Cottish Forces in Scotland and the Layartebian European Command, the Cottish had reacted quite strongly to the sudden outburst of military activity in England. Ever fearful of being caught by surprise again -- this was how the Smolenskis had managed to temporarily occupy large portions of Cotland during the Patriotic Liberation War -- the Cottish had adopted a policy of the best defence being a strong offense, and planned and organized accordingly.

Thus, north of the heavily militarized Cottish-Banjamo border, there sat a strong Army contingient, built around strong armoured formations backed up by ridiculous quantities of artillery of every type and aviation assets, backed up by a strong infantry force which had as a secondary job to support the offensive and secure conquered ground, seeing as the primary job of the infantry of XVI Corps of being an occupant force in Scotland had largely been negated by the genocide of the 2010 war and the influx of ethnically Cottish immigrants whose ethnic makeup by now formed 39% of the population of Scotland. Thus, the 90,000 men of XVI Corps were available to join the 70,000 men of XX Corps and the 20,000 men of IX Tank Group if the order came to push south.

On June 8th, after the scramble from Leeming that had sent the Royal Cottish Air Force into a hasty scramble, and the continuous stream of intel that indicated that there were widespread mobilization and fighting south of the border, the Commanding General of His Majesty's Army in Scotland, Colonel General Ægir Romb, had ordered the ready reservist formations of his Army activated and placed on high alert. The Cottish worst-case plan (the Cottish had developed several plans based on various scenarios), codenamed OPLAN 12-016, called for a hasty mobilization of the Army and Air Force, followed by an immediate attack southwards to fend off a coming Banjamo attack upon Scotland. Naturally, no Banjamo forces had advanced on the Cottish border yet, but the Cottish had learned the hard way that it was extremely expensive to be taken by surprise, so until the opposite was proven, they assumed a worst-case scenario and acted accordingly.

Cottish armoured and mechanized brigades and battalions had started taking up positions within 15 kilometers of the border with Banjamos by the afternoon of June 8th, with artillery formations setting up shop further back, ranging from 20 to 60 kilometers from the border. The longest-range ordinance, the five battalions worth of Vesta tactical missiles, were already trained on the Banjamos strategically important infrastructure that could be used in an attack against Cotland, such as highways, railroads and important communications and command and control hubs, while the rest geared towards offensive blitzkrieg-style warfare that the Cottish were so skilled in. To support this, Cottish Special Operations Forces and Air Assault troops prepared for deep penetration and insertion in the event that the order to go on the offensive was given.

The Royal Cottish Air Force was also out in force, maintaining a strong barrier combat air patrol over the Cottish-Banjamos border, keeping at least twenty fighters in the air at any given time, supported by at least one E-176 Argus AWACS aircraft codenamed MAGIC and one tanker codenamed ESSO further north. Additional fighters were on hot alert in the airbases in the Lowlands, while UAVs and ELINT aircraft were out over the border and over the North Sea in international airspace, snooping around. The aircraft not in the air were being turned over and prepared for offensive sorties, if this became necessary.

Cottish air defense radars had gone active as soon as the Banjamo Tornados had taken off from Leeming, and the many air defense missile sites near the border had been placed on high alert. While the fire control radars had not been activated yet, the Cottish continued to spew out radar effect into the atmosphere, monitoring the situation actively and closely.

While the Cots were certainly on high alert and seemed ready in the event that conflict spilled over their border, the actual order to move south of the border had not been issued. Unless the Banjamos actually attacked the Cottish, in which case the readiness orders authorized retaliatory offensive action, an invasion of Banjamo territory required an explicit order from the Cottish Government in Oslo. While the Cottish Cabinet had assembled to discuss and monitor the situation, no orders had been issued from Oslo yet, tying Colonel General Romb's hands.

While the Army and Air Force mobilized and surged north of the border, the Cottish Intelligence Service were using their human intelligence assets in place in Banjamos for all they were worth without actually burning them, while the listening stations and ridiculously expensive intelligence-gathering hardware in the listening stations and radar sites and aircraft were snooping up everything that was in the air. Much was being shared with the Layartebians and Apilonians through the OLYMPUS program, but some things were kept internal.

For now, the Cots mobilized on their side of the border and watched closely the goings on in England and Wales.

[Terra Reborn]

Admiral The Earl Harrington KCS DSO*
HMNB Scapa Flow
Orkney Islands, the Empire of Layarteb
Sunday 8th June 2014, 0900hrs Local Time (0000hrs Imperial Capital Time, 0900hrs Zulu)

His Majesty’s Naval Base Scapa Flow was a major fleet anchorage of the Imperial Navy, headquarters of the Imperial Atlantic Fleet and the home port of a number of its major units. A highly protected secure location at which ships could anchor or, less commonly due to the confined space, come alongside, the Imperial Base on Hoy Island had grown over the couple of years since permission to build a major fleet anchorage here had been acquired from the Empire of Layarteb. In due course Scapa Flow had subsequently also become the Regional Headquarters of Imperial Forces Europe, primarily because the Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Atlantic Fleet was dual-hatted as the Commander, Imperial Forces Europe, due to the fact that due to the small size of Imperial Colonies in the region the Imperial Navy was the leading force when it came to protecting those Colonies, as such an additional building had been constructed to contain the staff required for s Regional Headquarters. Given the escalation events in England and Wales, the entire Command had been placed on alert as of zero seven hundred hours, matching the postures assumed by the Layartebians and the Cottish.

Admiral Nicolas Harrington, Earl Harrington, was the Commander, Imperial Forces Europe,. He was comparatively young for his rank and position, but he had commanded Joint Task Force 001 for the invasion of Western Australia, and as such he had conclusively proved that he was capable of such high-level command, and indeed the forces under his command across Europe weren’t much larger than JTF001, But then the Imperial Navy in particular hadn’t been afraid to promote officers to high ranks and positions than their age would indicate, the dangers of simply assuming that time-in-service meant competence had been shown to be sorely mistaken by the actions of then-Rear Admiral Elvis Santino whose blunders had crippled a Carrier Air Wing and nearly derailed the Imperial Invasion of Portugal, indeed only Harrington’s own actions during that campaign had salvaged the entire operation (and earned him a Knighthood),his rapid ascent to his current position had been pretty much assured after that point, and he had yet to disappoint the Imperial Navy and the Empire for the trust they placed in him.

As soon as the order had gone out to put the entire Command on alert, Harrington had ordered his officers to be assembled. Some merely disembarked their ships or walked over from their accommodation, but others were attending by vid-conference. General Sir Nicolas Leach, the General Officer Commanding of the Imperial Fifth Army, which was actually primarially located in Africa but the Imperial Forces Europe regional command contained forces of both Europe and Africa as neither were sufficient to stand on their own, was currently sat in his Headquarters outside of Freetown. His opposite number in the Imperial Mediterranean Fleet, Admiral The Viscountess Stanford, who also happened to be his secret lover, was sat in the video conference suite at Devil Tower’s Garrison on Gibraltar. The last of the constituent force commanders, who was sat alongside Stanford, was Air Vice Marshal James Beckett, the commander of the 3rd Air Division of the Imperial Air Force. The IAF presence in Europe and Africa was limited, in terms of combat arms only the Air Defence Command had a presence, and its aircraft were often required to take on roles normally held by Tactical Air Command, as with most other parts of the Imperial Military presence in the region, neither was enough to exist independently.

But that didn’t make it insignificant, Harrington had at his command a great deal of military strength and power with which to enforce the Empire’s wishes, and stay true to its commitments to its allies

“Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen, you’ve all read the overnight intelligence briefs, and the report from Commander Harrington of the Gibraltar, no relation by the way,” Harrington commented. “The purpose of this meeting is simple, our October Alliance allies have gone on high alert, which is part of the reason why our Command is now also on high alert, so the question we face now, is what precisely do we do.”

Harrington paused slightly.

“Obviously, given the nature of the British Isles the vast majority of the work is going to be done by the Navy, however we need to make sure that the Air Force, and to a lesser extent the Army, are also available to provide assistance and support if the need arises,” He continued. “Thusly although we have not received any requests for assistance from the EOL or ROC, we need to make sure that we are ready to reinforce their already substantial forces with what we can spare, whilst at the same time positioning our other forces for actions as and when required.”

Harrington glanced at General Leach and nodded.

“Although as you say we don’t anticipate the need to deploy in support of either the EOL or the ROC, as they should both independently be able to fend off any attack by Banjamo forces, the October Alliance means that we need to be ready for anything,” General Leach replied. “As such, I’ve ordered all of my forces to be on increased alert for deployment, we’ve strated loading vehicles and logistics pallets so that if the balloon goes up we can get them aboard aircraft and flown to Ireland or Scotland as soon as possible, I’m obviously working with James on that one, other than that, there is little the Army can do here.”

Harrington nodded and looked at Beckett.

“As General Leach says, I’ve ordered all Air Mobility Command assets we have in the theatre to make themselves available to transport the lead elements of any ground force at short notice, indeed I suggest that outside of routine flights we get some of the gear loaded onto aircraft to speed up the response time,” AVM Beckett said thoughtfully. “As for fighter aircraft, again I suspect that both of our allies can fend off any attack without much difficulty, although we could potentially deploy a squadron of Wraiths to the Naval Air Station at Scapa Flow, however for any actual strikes into Banjamo Territory, we’d be better off using the Carrier Air Group of the Audacious, much as it pains me to admit it.”

“Agreed, I’ve been discussing the matter with my staff this morning, and we are of the opinion that the Audacious Carrier Group should be positioned in the southern parts of the North Sea, ready to strike anywhere on the east coast of England, as well as to provide support to the Cottish if this kicks off,” Stanford commented, her staff had been helping with strategizing for the Atlantic Fleet . “We’ll also deploy two to four battleships and escorts down to the Irish Sea and the area around Cornwall, again to support our allies, they probably aren’t exactly necessary, but it’ll be an important gesture, if this all kicks off, this will be the first time we’ve fought alongside our October Alliance allies since the signing, the symbolism alone will be very important.”

Harrington nodded grimly. Those deployment schemes all made sense, and the ships alone could be in position in hours after getting underway, and the ground and air force assets were less immediate anyway. And so the decision was made, as soon as the meeting broke up Harrington rang the Chief of Joint Operations at Imperial High Command who rang the Chief of the Defence Staff who approved the deployments. Strictly speaking an Imperial Regional Commander didn’t need clearance to alter the disposition of his forces, although he obviously would if they were to engage the enemy, but just moving them around was well within his mandate. Never the less Harrington knew the importance of the right hand knowing what the left hand was doing. The ships were underway within two hours, and would be on-station in short order. The Wraith F.1 Air Superiority Fighters would be ferried up to Scapa Flow by the end of the day, and the Army units would begin to prepare to deploy, if they were needed.

Meanwhile His Majesty’s Ship Gibraltar would continue to observe events from its position, whilst the Commodore, North Atlantic, was ordered to position more of his squadron closer to Britain, just in case they were needed.

[Cotland]

Edinburgh Castle
Edinburgh, Scotland
081550Z JUN 2014 [UTC +0]

The flight of four Black Hawk helicopters streaked low over the roofs of the tiny hamlet, sending the local kids out kicking a footbal into a small frenzy with excitement as the two escorting Assassin gunships formed up with the Black Hawk package, moving troops and equipment into one of the many forward operating bases the Army had set up over the past day. This particular package of Black Hawks was carrying the advance party of XVI Corps's headquarters group north to Edinburgh for a briefing with XX Corps and the Commanding General of His Majesty' Army in Scotland. Basically, a high-level "O group".

Touching down in the large parade ground outside Edinburgh Castle, the passengers disembarked and were guided through the Castle gates and up to the administration building on the top where the Army HQ was located.

Once inside, the men were led up to the main conference room where the officers and NCOs were offered refreshments while making the introductionary rounds. The meeting included about a dozen general officers, including Colonel General Romb (GOC HM Army in Scotland), Lieutenant Generals Juel (GOC XX Corps), Lemkihl (GOC XVI Corps), Gremm (GOC Scotland Region, Tactical Air Command) and Ingria (COS HM Army in Scotland), Major Generals Unger (GOC Tank Division no 12), Helle (Infantry Division no 22), af Morgenstierne (Infantry Division no 26), Terrenhelm (Infantry Division no 38), Quist (Parachute Division no 4), and Berenstein (Tank Group no IX), Brigadier General Piirilakti (Air Assault Brigade no 59), Brigadier General Torn (SOKDA Operations Group IV), and several other Brigadiers and Colonels from both the Army and Air Force.

After a brief introductionary round, Colonel General Romb asked everyone to find their seats, which they promptly did. After everyone settled down, General Romb started.

"Gentlemen, once again, welcome to this orders group. The reason for us being assembled here today is the increased unrest south of the border in Banjamos.

"The trouble started yesterday afternoon when unknown assailants attacked a high-level meeting of the European Defence Pact in Westminister Palace in London. Several high-ranking officials of both Banjamos, Holland and possibly also Amigard were killed in the attack. Indications from the CIS are that the attack was the opening shots of an attempted coup-de-tát in Banjamos. This suspicion was further increased when a full squadron of Tornados based at Leeming, near our border, scrambled during the night and sent us into a small frenzy here. The Tornados proceeded south, and an air battle ensued over Portsmouth between the Tornados and Banjo Navy Harriers. The air battle was observed by an Apilonian frigate in the English Channel, and promptly relayed to us via TOA channels.

"Add to this unconfirmed reports of random air strikes over Government strongholds, guerilla attacks on Banjo garrisons, and reports of troops on the streets, and it is becoming clear that Banjamos is having some fairly serious problems.

"My CIS liason has assured me that we are not responsible for the attacks and unrest in Banjamos, although given the cloak-and-dagger nature of that organization, I'm not even sure my liason would know if that was true." Romb said with a smile, easing the mood slightly.

"So, that's the background. Based on this, I consulted with the Governor and Governing Council in Edinburgh, and it was decided to raise our military readiness in order to prevent conflict from spilling over to Scotland, and to be able to retaliate in case someone decides to take advantage of the situation and attack Cotland. Therefore, I activated OPLAN 12-016 in order to be ready for whatever may transpire. Oslo has finally responded to my urgent signals and approved this course of action.

"Therefore, gentlemen, your men are out there in the field, getting ready for whatever may come. I'd like a quick report from each of you on the status of your commands. General Juel?"

Lieutenant General Juel, General Officer Commanding XX Corps, responded quietly.

"Most of my units are mobilized and getting into position along the border zone now. Artillery officers are preparing pre-ranged zones in the event of Banjo attack, and taking out pre-arranged target packages for the artillery and missilery units in the event of conflict. The units all have one full combat-day allotment of ammo, but will need resupply of fuel, food and munitions as quickly as possible in order to be fully operational. If push comes to shove, Twenty Corps is ready for defensive action right now, but I'd like to get another twelve hours at minimum in order to resupply my men and get the units into position before I'm happy to declare them ready for offensive operations."

"Thank you. General Lemkihl?"

"Sir," General Officer Commanding XVI Corps, Lieutenant General Lemkihl, started. "As you know, my unit is still in the process of mobilizing and getting itself into position. I estimate that the Corps as a whole is on seventy percent readiness as we speak. However, this figure is rising for every passing minute. We'll be fully ready within twenty-four hours sir."

"Very good. General Gremm?"

"General, my wings have maintained a reinforced barrier patrol over our territory since the unrest started, and all aircraft that are recovered are quickly turned around and regenerated for sorties. There is a continuous AWACS and tanker patrol supporting the fighters, and I have a dozen fighters in the air and on station at any given time at this point. Additionally, there are eight hundred combat aircraft on the ground, ready to take to the skies in order to defeat the enemy air power and support the units on the ground. I've also got drones and reconnaissance aircraft peering into Banjo territory, trying to get us early warning and intelligence. That's the air situation.

"The air defence situation is that all batteries along the border zone are on high alert. We've filling the air with energy, and have complete control over all that moves in the skies. The air defense sites around the major cities are also on alert, though they remain passive for the time being.

"Basically sir, the Air Force is ready to support you if push comes to shove."

"Thank you General, we'll hold you to that." Romb said with a smile. "General Quist?"

"General sir," The Major General commanding the Parachute Division in Scotland, which technically was not part of the Army in Scotland but available none the less, said enthusiastically. "4th Para Division is fully mobilized and ready to support you where needed. The Air Force have the necessary transport capacity to airdrop two thirds of my division well behind enemy lines, with the rest of the division and the heavy equipment following in the next drop six hours later. Drop us anywhere and my boys'll make life miserable for the enemy!"

"I'm glad to hear your enthusiasm General," Romb said. "Admiral Jung?"

The only naval flag officer in the room spoke. "General, the Navy has already stepped up its patrols in the North Sea and Irish Sea, with frigates and submarines on patrol keeping tabs on the Banjamo fleet. If things go bad, we'll start sending the submarines closer inshore to lay mines and wreak havoc on their harbour facilities with naval special forces and other means.

"Furthermore, the current plan in Home Fleet headquarters is to send a two-carrier task force to sea from Trondheim in the next few days, barring any sudden development for the worse in which case they'll be scrambled sooner, and have them operate in the North Sea. This would give you another hundred fifty combat aircraft at your disposal for strikes and close air support. Additionally, we're ready to ship reinforcements and supplies over to Scotland and evacuate wounded to Noreg if that should be needed."

"Thank you Admiral, let's hope that won't be needed." Romb said.

"Thank you gentlemen for the reports. Now, let's look to the plan. If it becomes necessary, I intend to continue the good old Cottish tradition of making my defence a powerful offense.

"Initial objectives for the retaliatory invasion of England should be the cities of Middlesbrough in the east to Barrow in Furness, bypassing Newcastle upon Tyne and peeling off forces to lay siege to the city if it does not surrender immediately. Those are our initial objectives. After having captured these, we'll have taken control over the three northern-most counties in England and be in a favorable position to threaten the important cities of York, Leeds, Blackburn and Blackpool. Capturing these cities also means that we'll be in a strong position to threaten Liverpool and Sheffield, which are vital for the Banjamo economy. That, in turn, means that the Foreign Ministry will be in a strong position in a negotiated peace and have very good bargaining chips on their hands.

"Now, let's not kid ourselves. The Banjos will put up a very good fight if we attack them. They'll be fighting for their homeland, their homesteads, their families and their national existence. They will not yield easily. However, as history have shown us, the Banjamo is a weakling. He has not fought an equal in centuries, and has therefore become soft and weak. However, in a war against us, he will not be fighting an equal either. He'll be fighting a superior.

"The Cottish soldier is battle hardened. He is experienced. He is used to the hardships and struggles of war. He's seen and done things that are best left unspoken. He's survived Smolenski occupation. He's survived the Great Pandemic. He's made it through the hard recovery of the Realm. He knows perfectly well what is expected of him, and he will not let us down. Add to this that he has the best weapons and equipment money and experience can buy, and the best training in the world, and is led by the best officers and non-commissioned officers in the world, and there is nothing that can stop the Cottish soldier! Be sure to impress this in your officers and men. They are fighting to protect the innocent men, women and children north of the border against the foreign aggression, and that means that its better to take the horrors of war to the enemy's land instead of ours!"

Romb had been on a roll, and gotten himself worked up a little in the pep-talk, but it semeed to have worked. The men assembled all nodded with assent, and he knew that they would relay the pep-talk, with local variations, to their own men, and that it would trickle down the ranks until even the lowliest private rifleman had been properly briefed and motivated, and would take it to heart.

"If it is decided to launch the counter-invasion, the go code will be MARGARIT. I repeat, MARGARIT. Receipt of the go code means that the troops are to move into starting positions, to be completed within four hours. Final go code is PÅSKELILJE. I repeat, PÅSKELILJE. Upon receipt of the final go code, you are to launch your attacks in accordance with the specified operations orders within an hour of the go code. Starting preparatory artillery and air strikes in support of your attacks are authorized when final go code is received.

"We can expect resistance to be firm from the start, though through the use of surprise and maintaining the initiative, we will overcome resistance whereever it is encountered through decisive action, fire and manouver. This means parachute drops and air assaults in support of the main advance to be conducted in the deep area of the battle, while the armoured formations blitzkrieg south. Basically, we're looking at a repeat of the Belarus campaign if all goes well.

Any questions so far?" Romb asked. This kicked off a thirty-minute Q&A where the operational details that were unclear were clarified and discrepancies in the plans ironed out.

The Cottish were certainly not taking any chances this time around.

[Itailian Maifias]

----- DISREGARD ---------

[Itailian Maifias]

Lieutenant Louis Hawkins
'A' Company, 2nd Battalion, 16 Air Assault Brigade
Nearing RAF Abingdon, Oxfordshire, England
June 8th, 2014, 1:15 PM [GMT+1]

" Thirty seconds till touch down, get ready boys "

Louis smirked as the sergeant of his platoon shouted out the notification, serving as the loadmaster aboard the EC725 Super Cougar which was carrying all 25 members of Louis's platoon to RAF Abingdon, the air base that was crucial to helping provide air support for operations in the Oxfordshire, Middlesex region until contact could be established with JB Delphi, the Tornado FGR4's at Abingdon could prove vital against any mechanized force the Imperial Guard or other traitorous forces could muster up, and the base was under threat from the massive amounts of Imperial Guard forces in London and northern regions; a recon team had confirmed that a mechanized company, with possibly the rest of its battalion as reinforcements, was making its way towards the airfield. Louis's platoon as well as the other ten platoons in A Company had been sent to reinforce the airfield, wherein the Cougars would return to Aldershot and get B Company and bring the rest of the Battalion in with waves of one company at a time; the whole process was set to take about four to five hours, and the first Imperial Guard units were set to make initial contact in two, hours, so work was to be done.

The EC275's touched down within thirty seconds as the Sergeant promised and the men piled out of the helicopters as the two side doors were swung open, the twenty five men piling out and slowly forming up into column organizations, Louis taking his own squadron and moving quickly across the tarmac, the other fifteen or so members of his platoon following quickly behind as they ran across the tarmac which had Tornado's lining up to buzz off of, two had already been launched and four more for a full three flights was rolling out of the hangars on the base. Large military trucks were at a few of the warehouses and some RAF personnel were unloading defensive equipment such as the casings for H-Barriers, which would be placed around the base's perimeter and then filled with dirt by Bobcat construction vehicles, meant to fortify the perimeter which was currently only marked with a simple chain-link fence topped with barbed wire, which while excellent at deterring the odd hiker, stood relatively low chances to the high caliber rounds of an infantry fighting vehicle.

The perimeter fortifications also saw a few makeshift towers out of H-Barriers and planks made and then a M2 heavy machine gun or a Mark 19 automatic grenade launcher placed on them, to provide support fire to the infantry based elements. The initial perimeter fortifications, the placement of the barriers along the northern half of the base where initial contact would be made was completed at 2:30 and it didn't take more then fifteen minutes for the heavy weaponry to be in place. At 3:15, eight CH-47D Chinooks arrived carrying in their underslings L118 howitzers, called a light gun, it was 105mm and inside the Chinooks was the ammunition and crew to fire them, which would help support the 16th Brigade in its defense of the base. It would take approximately forty minutes to set up the L118 howitzers, and with A Company watching the northern long perimeter of the base and B Company having two platoons watching east and west and keeping two in reserve to act as a trouble shooting force, the L118's used Watchkeeper UAV's to help guide their fire and began opening fire on the three mechanized companies, based around FV150 Warriors, was slowly making their way to the base; UAV flyovers seemed to indicate light air defenses and their travel pattern indicated they would attempted to attack on both sides of the base as well as the fore, which the crews of the howitzer guns worked to prevent as shells were guided in to 'box' the Imperial Guard into attacking the base on the north wall head on, where the full firepower of the 16th could be brought to bear.

It would only take forty seconds for the shells to begin raining down, and by which time, there was already two more shells in the air; at a 8 round rate of fire, the 8 guns were able to put 64 rounds on the opposing forces within sixty seconds. The first sixty four rounds mostly 'guided' the force into a big cluster, a few vehicles were struck, a Warrior had its left track blown out and a M113 with a AD suite took a direct hit but losses were minimal, that is they were until the first flight of Tornado FGR4's, armed with two AIM-9 Sidewinders and then twelve Brimstone AGM missiles on each plane, that was twenty four missiles a piece and they were quickly fired off in a storm of hellfire that rained down on the mechanized column, massive explosions filling the terrain and more then one Warrior was taken out by the explosion of another that was hit due to close proximity and flying shrapnel; out of the thirty missiles fired from the Tornados, fifteen each, eight failed to detonate and four missed their targets but due to how the ground forces were bunched up did inflict damage on nearby hulls. The remaining nineteen missiles were direct hits and approximately twenty five FV105's were destroyed, and three FV103 Spartans were damaged or rendered inoperable. Ground losses would be confirmed later when they could, but the second flight of Tornados was already lining up for its first run while the first took a wide turn to line up for a second run, approximately still carrying 40% of the flight's entire ammunition count. The second flight of Tornado's was loaded differently then the first, as the first had been loaded with solely missiles and designed to rain down pure havoc on the enemy force, which it did and said force was now in disarrays and chaos, which meant it was perfect for the rolling bombing charge that was planned for the second flight, each Tornado being loaded to bear with two AIM-9 Sparrow's, eight Mark 82 bombs quad-packed onto two pylons and four Mark 83's loaded up, ready to blast away the enemy forces.

The second flight came in and let loose their ordinance; the toll they exacted on the opposing force was a deadly one, eliminating the vanguard as a operational force effectively entirely and forcing the entire unit to go into a retreat back to fortified positions - the fighters from RAF Abingdon would continue to run sorties on the force as they withdrew to fortified positions, but by sundown at 19:45 hours, the fighters landed for their final sortie. BDA assessments by the groups of the troopers now fortifying the airbase would confirm that more then forty two vehicles had been destroyed, eighteen captured, abandoned or inoperable, and possibly close to three hundred personnel dead. That left the path wide open for a force to go to JB Delphi and establish contact and ascertain the status of the forces there.

[Itailian Maifias]

Generaal Marthys Penders O.H.O. B.L. B.C.
Flying towards JB Delphi, Essex
June 8th, 2014, 8:42 AM [GMT+1]

"Sir, we'll be nearing their airspace soon, attempting to contact their tower."

The pilot of the Merlin HM3 helicopter that contained Marthys radio'd back to the man that was sitting next to the General; the man was dressed in the typical Banjamosi battle dress uniform, and the beret that usually adorned his head had been replaced with a combat helmet. The six foot two and skinny stature belonged to Colonel Nick Hurst, the commander of the Welsh Guards, and he had been conversing with Penders since they had left, going over their strategy for the possible secure and status of Delphi.

"You think your people are still in there?"

" Would have taken a large force to unlodge them, and I think even with the jamming, we would have heard about it. I remain confident there's at least some people still home. "

The helicopter they rode in was also bearing thirty eight other combat-equipped members of the Welsh Guard, and they were accompanied by four other Merlin helicopters that were bearing the two battalions of the Guard into Delphi; the current plan was for them to attempt to raise the air traffic control tower there and if their efforts failed, they would land about 1 km east of the base and then proceed inwards on foot to analyze the condition of the base and the forces inside. Since Penders and Hurst were seated near the cockpit, even over the loud hum of the blades they could hear the pilot attempting to raise the tower, and as Penders stuck his head forward he could see through the cockpit glass the beginnings of the base starting to come over the horizon.

"Sir, no response from Watchfire, shall I continue?"

"Negative, divert to secondary LZ. "

"Roger sir."

The formation of helicopters deployed chaffe as they switched and turned eastwards and proceeded to make their way towards a cleared knoll that was a kilometer away from the base, and one by one the helicopters would touch down and unload their troops, and then take off again, heading to return back to Aldershot. Once Nick and Penders were on the ground they gathered the battalion and company commanders around a map that they laid out on a large rock, Nick deferring to Penders since he knew the base more. "Alright, we'll move in four teams, each battalion split down company lines. We'll approach from these four vectors, covering their entire left and rear flank. Now, I'm going to pass out the frequency the base security units use, try hailing on that frequency once we're within eight hundred meters and see if we can get everyone. Once you breach the perimeter, if no contact has been made with friendly forces, cease the hails and just monitor the channel."

One of the men, a Lieutenant by the insignia on his armored vest, raised his hand and spoke up from the rear of the huddle "Sir, what are our orders if no contact with BLUFOR has been made and perimeter has been breached?"

"We will proceed to RV at the central command building here, approximately two hundreds in from the main gate where we will enter. Enter, secure and ascertain the status of the building and any inside, and we'll take it from there. If we do take contact and encounter tangos, execute with extreme prejudice. If in danger of being swarmed, fall back to the gate and then return to this LZ for extraction, if this proves too hot, head for this glade approximately 1.7 klicks from here."

Once the orders were issued, the two hundred men began making the process of moving out and towards their ordered objective, Nick and Penders sticking with his command element which was still involved just near the rear of the formation of men, who were all holding their rifles ready for action, everyone on edge from the past 24 hour's events. With their training and the ancitipation combined, their pace was quickened and they covered the hilly ground of the region quickly, they got within eight hundred meters timely and Penders could hear as radiomen were trying to raise the base on the frequency he had supplied. They continued to hail, and hail, as the brick-and-mortar walls of the large base grew nearer and nearer, all without answer, and it was here they finally got there first form of one in the shape of a destroyed FV432, and two dead men on the ground next to it, their bodies visibly burned.

Two Guardsmen rushed up to secure the destroyed vehicle and men, and Nick and Penders began making their way over once the men waved it secure. Nick pointed out the white cross on the man's left shoulder sleeve, most of it blackened from the fire that had consumed this man's body but was still visible enough for a recognition "Imperial Guard, looks like they were here and met a fight."

Penders nodded, but maintained a grim look as he shifted his weight, letting his SIG rifle hang from the carrier strap around his torso "Yes, but where's the rest of them?"

Nick threw his hands up in a un-knowing manner and the formation continued on, and it was here that more answers came. The brick walls were now clearly in view, and more importantly, so was the three flags flying from above the main gate - the Dutch, Banjamosi and Amigard flags, and there was clearly men manning the walls. It only took a few seconds, tense at first but then defused, for the two sides to realize who they all were and soon the Banjamosi Guards were being welcomed into the base, albiet quickly, and Nick and Penders were given a quick ride down to the command building inside the back of a Dutch LTV, where once they were arrived, were taken to the situation room, which was clearly busy handling this mess, and in the center of it much to Pender's smile, was Captain Timetheous Brekelmans, who immediately smiled the minute he saw the two officers. "Maarthys, Colonel, I'm incredibly happy to hear both of you are alive, especially you Penders, welcome home."

"Sit-rep if you wouldn't mind Captain"

" Of course sir. We detected the attacks the minute they began but our external communications were jammed about forty minutes in, approximately the same time you made your departure from the capital, we were tracking you for a few minutes and then the jamming hijacked your signal and we lost you. I immediately realized we would probably be next so I threw the base into Condition 1, and unfortunately I was proven right when the Guards sent a small force at us, we estimated a battalion strength possibly, which we quickly defeated, I think that APC you passed was the closest any got. Since then, we've been trying to locate the jamming sites and secure and destroy them, so far we've taken one out in Sussex and one near Dover which has allowed us communication back home, and needless to say, they're wanting a brief, I got the Prime Minister and the King on the phone right now, waiting for you."

"Well, let's not leave them waiting, quite the story to tell."

[Itailian Maifias]

OOC: For the OOB for the units listed below/for the reader's convenience, see this]

[ Mature ]

Generaal Marthys Penders O.H.O. B.L. B.C.
Main Operations Center, Sub-Level 4B, Joint Base Delphi, South of Bromley, England
June 8th, 2014, 12:00 PM [GMT+1]


Marthys looked around the collection of officers gathered around the large briefing table inside the large room, the various colored uniforms of the different armed forces and branches made for a funny view, with contrasting colors of black, blue, green, and more. He himself remained in his combat uniform, his kevlar vest and weapons removed but still the combat uniform, but like Nick Hurst who was sitting at the end of the table with the other Banjamosi officers present, he had a feeling there was much more fighting left and he might be needing this over some service uniform.

Spread out across the table were a number of documents, photos, maps, intelligence briefings, and other things that the group had been dissecting while Marthys was on the phone with Prime Minister Soer and the King, and Hurst with his commanders, who actually flew over to Delphi once he reported back. Apparently all units that had been contacted and were loyal, which was nearly the entire Army especially when they learned it was the Imperial Guard who tried the coup, so therefore the majority of the three hundred thousand Banjamosi Army was on their side, and their chain of command intact. Overall theatre command was begin given to Marthys and a Banjamosi General, Jack Lawrence, and the man was now sitting to Marthys right in his black Imperial Army service uniform, and reading over his laptop like most of the others, waiting for Marthys to begin the briefing. He picked up a thick stack of folders to his left, and dropped them, internally grinning slightly as the noise silenced itself and he had everyone's attention. "Well, thank you for coming and being here, but we'll get straight to the point."

"Prime Minister Soer and King Willem have declared a special emergency for this event, and the Defence Ministry has already begun moving elements of Army units from France to help us in this endeavor, and our units in Holland and Germany have begun securing Belgium and Luxembourg with the help of local governments; apparently there is a sizeable Imperial Guard contingent in Belgium that is #1 priority given the proximity to our other holdings, however in 72 hours, a full Dutch Corps will be present to assist in operations. Moreover, General Lawrence and I have spoken to great lengths about the merged units and how to use them, and we've devised a battle plan."

"Operation SAXON FIRE will begin tomorrow morning, at 0100 hours exactly. As we speak, Army units have secured cities and settlements surrounding London, notably the Irish Guard securing Oxford and Wiltshire, and 5 Infantry Division having secured the Sussex area with moderate losses. Moreover, the jamming sites have been full eliminated with has cleared our communications problems entirely, and we're now in full war mode as you might call it. At 0100, RAF and DAF aircraft will begin a system of targeted strikes on tactical and strategic locations that have been pre-sighted with the aid of some amazing work from drone operators with the No. 899 Squadron, an experimental drone warfare and surveillance squadron out of Abingdon that just moved there last fall, so they've just become fully operational. With their drones we've located a number of potential caches, defensive spots, and potential barracks. Now, airstrikes in a populated city center are inherently very dangerous, but among the many stories that BBC is struggling to keep up with is that apparently a large portion of the city evacuated once the fighting sprung up - social media reports indicate the city looks 'abandoned', so we're trying to be as tight on this as possible.

Once the airstrikes conclude, approximately 0134, the first wave of coordinated assaults begins. Queens Own Hussars will begin a blitz towards Liverpool, which they've already battled with the Imperial Guard units there, while 2 Armored will enter London from Oxford, with the Irish Guards, while the Welsh and Grenadier Guards move in from the south with support from 45th Combat Brigade that is stationed here, and the Scots, 16 Air Assault and the Royal Northumberland Fusiliers will advance from Dartford, with the 16 conducting an air assault on London City Airport, secure any assets there and hold it down until the Fusiliers and Scots Guard can arrive. We estimate there's a full Division of Imperial Guard inside the city and once we secure it, we should have a major score against this coup. I'm going to let Jack explain the rest, because he knows the rest better."

"Indeed; now, as to this coup. The Imperial Guard in it's entirety has defected, an we've managed to track down their estimated strength and numbers. Taking into effect the battles we've won and strikes conducted against them, we would estimate 2 of these to be of full strength, one to be around half strength and the final one to be near combat ineffective numbers, depending on how they're used. Now, we estimate that one of the full strength ones is in London, with the half strength division as a secondary garrison, and the final full strength division is currently occupying Liverpool. The remaining small unit we estimate fled, possibly to Hull, and we're having units track for it, shouldn't be too hard to find. Once we smash London and retake it, that's pretty much their battle over with, but anyways, I need to explain the coup to those who aren't Banjamosi. "

"When the Empress was removed from power last year, and the new Emperor put in, it became apparently obvious to those of us on the "in" that he wasn't very powerful or competent, but he was what he was. The Prime Minister attempted to shore him up with more power on his part, and the Imperial Guard starting getting idea's, idea's of undoing many years of hard work and reforms this country labored towards. Factions began to emerge, and plotting followed; really the only one staying loyal to the Emperor was the Prime Minister himself, he refused to abandon the notion that many of us adopted; the Empire's time had run out. We're currently operating under the agenda that the Imperial Guard killed the Emperor and the government when they seized power, a number of MPs were out of the city so that's good, but as far as the Cabinet goes, we fear the worst. I personally will be overseeing the Grenadier Guards as they aim to go for Whitehall and Westminister Palaces to confirm or debunk what we may think, the Dutch will be securing Richmond Palace once we break into the city, so there's that too. Now, let's review unit standing orders and the ROE.."

Lance Corporal Lynn Francis
A Company, 2nd Battalion, Essex Regiment/Prince of Wales Own
Fighting in Wanstead Flats, south of Redbridge, London, Engaldn
June 9th, 2014; 0345 Hrs [UTC+5]

"Adrien left side, fuck it, shift ye' fire there's a whole fireteam over ther'!"

Lynn couldn't hear his corporal yell any louder before he turned from firing down range on the streets and instead was now peering through his advanced optics to see the team of five Imperial Guardsmen sprinting through the beginning of the large park, their black uniforms easily standing out, and he quickly took aim on the lead soldier, gave himself a few meters of a head start and pulled tight on the trigger twice, the heavy caliber of his L1 rifle getting flung at ridiculous lengths down range before it cut through the neck of the soldier it was aimed at, it's sister round slamming into his thigh, and the man was flung to the side as his own velocity was warped by the force of getting shot, and killed.

Lynn wasted no time in advancing up, he and the rest of his section were now slowly running for cover, fire, run, fire; it was a vicious cycle that they had been repeating for nearly two hours since they entered the city; initial defenses on the outskirts were heavy, but Warrior IFV's from the Green Howards easily knocked them down, and within twenty minutes, the infantry of the four regiments in 3 Division were now pouring over the blasted apart walls, torn down defensive structures and over the remains of cut-down Imperial Guardsmen. Their objective was simple, they were to advance to Victory Park and secure it and use it as a rendezvous point, as each regiment had been given a particular route to persue in order to clear out the full garrison, which according to his corporal, they were facing an half-strength division here while everyone else down on the southern side of the grand city was facing the full sized version; a testament to this was their was far far more airstrikes called in on that side of the side, thick plumes of smoke nearly completely masked the horizon line in that direction. All Lynn had to do was look up and he could see the Dragon GR.3's flashing over head in their blue-grey IBAF paint, or Tornado's with the more precision guided bombing runs; they did want the city intact after all, which is half the reason artillery was limited to company mortars. But Lynn couldn't worry about the canopy of raining death above him, because the was the art form of war all around him on the bullet riddled streets of London.

As they advanced further into the park, an Foxhound painted in Imperial Guard colors revved itself over a hill two hundred meters north of their position and immediately began maneuvering towards their location at the entry bank, the gunner on the machine gun atop the vehicle spewing heavy caliber rounds down range at the Banjamosi soldiers, sending them down on the cold ground, but it didn't take long for one of Lynn's fellow soldiers, a man by the last name of Caron according to his nametapes, to pull out the M72 LAW he was carrying and firing off the high-explosive rocket at the moving vehicle, the rocket impacting right on the windshield and it exploded with such force, it set the whole vehicle off in a fiery explosion, being consumed by flames, and flipped it on it's top, the explosion also killing two Guardsmen who were near the vehicle when it was hit.

The explosion eliminated the core line of Guardsmen and gave Lynn and his section mates a chance to break up into the woods ahead of them, so he stood up from his prone position, resting on a single new and swung his sights over the first defender, who was trying to run, and cut him down in two rounds to the leg and lower torso, and then immediately over again to another, landing two shots in tight grouping dead center mass on the man, and then running up, bullets whizzing around his ears as he dodged fire from the men in the tree line, he stopped a few meters short of it and dropped to the ground, immediately firing off six rounds at a Guardsmen taking cover behind a tree; four of them smacking into the wood, casting splinters everywhere, before one hit the man in the check and the other in the side, sending him crashing to the floor a bleeding mess. At this point, the rest of his section had advanced quickly to positions near his, spread out in a loose line before the trees, firing off a massive amount of rounds into the forested slight hill, while receiving a few rounds in return. Lynn went through two magazines, each time replacing them with one he carried in an individual pouch on his armor vest, carrying eight total and now down to three, not counting the one he had already used eight rounds out of that was in his rifle at the moment. He heard his corporal yell something to two of his section mates and he saw them cease firing, grab something off their vest and chuck it, and with seconds, two massive explosions were heard, and their gunfire ceased; everything oddly silent, the background nose of distant clashes still present but just.

On this movement, they begun advancing, slowly walking with their weapons half-raised, as they each checked behind tree's, everyone on incredibly high edge. Their movements took only a few moments, not one bit of chatter, before they could see the light coming in from north of them, marking an end to the woods. They all took up a position behind a tree, surveying out northwards, Lynn himself letting his rifle hang from the strap that straddled his torso and pulled out his binoculars, looking northward, one hand holding them on the side, while the other had it's finger scrolling the distance modifier wheel on the top of the modern optic set. "Francis, what have we got?"

"Sir, a watery ravine immediately on the other side of these woods, then another set of woods, a small break and then another set of woods, with grass flatlands on all other sides, may possibly be a structure after that last set, I think I see a roof just below the tree canopies, slight movement in that final set of woods too."

"A'right lads, get ready to move. "

The soldiers moved out after a few seconds, taking the short time to take a sip of water from a canteen and then replace it into their pack, and they were navigating carefully the downward slope, the quick increase and back onto a hill and then once they reached the second set of woods, they remained with their weapons pointing forward, but moving as rapidly as possible "Hold all fire unless engaged or till I say so."

The order came in quietly over their headsets and everyone carefully readied themselves from the coming battle, the mounting silence interrupted by a large explosion far off was only another addition to the tension they felt, and Lynn found himself just focusing on what was on the other end of his barrel.

As they were walking through the woods, they read a quick chatter over their radio indicating that the rest of their platoon had joined them, one section just to their north in the same set of woods and then the rest were coming in on a direct northern approach to the structure; within seconds, someone opened fire and soon gunfire was rippling all down the lines, Lynn himself had his eyes on a Guardsmen propped up on a tree, and his three rounds hit the man in his neck, torso and hip region, sending him down with his hand around a bloody hand grasping at his torn-open throat. Soon, his comrades further back in the woods were firing, and Lynn and his section mates had to find them solely by their movements or muzzle flashes, which there was plenty off.

Lynn kept moving forwards, almost in a running pace, even as the soldier next to him was cut down by a machine gun hail, he made it to a tree, listening to the sounds of the trees being torn apart tusk from limb by the massive exchange of rounds that was going around inside this park. He managed to catch his breath and turned forward, propping his rifle up on the 'v' made by intersecting parts of the trunk of the tree, and began firing off rounds down range, aiming at anything that moved or where he saw a flash, a few times knowing he scored a hit by the sudden thrown blood mist in the air that was just slightly visible if the light caught it. After a few rounds, he heard the 'ding' of an empty magazine and he exchanged it for a fresh one, but as he was loading it into the gun, the loud sound of a heavy machine gun ripped through the atmosphere, it's fifty caliber rounds cutting through wood, and sending more then four Banjamosi soldiers to the ground in a bloody heap. The advance of A Company continued regardless, their boots passing over many fallen Guardsmen, and of their own fellow soldiers, and before long they were coming out of the woods, and in front of them was some old grand house, with Guardsmen falling back in trucks and tactical vehicles, a few turning around to engage the soldiers coming out of the woods, but it was mostly in vain; the surviving two hundred and twenty men of the company absolutely slaughtered the soldiers, not even wasting rockets on the trucks because their beds were exposed to they gunned down the passengers with their rifles, and after a quick nine minutes, everything was either Banjamosi and standing, or dead and rotting.

Lynn made his way over to grand house, it's walls were pockmarked with bullet impacts, and a slain Guardsmen, his stomach ripped open by some large caliber round, with blood and innards seeping down the front of his shredded attire, was stretched out on the stairs and Lynn with a push of his foot, shoved the man off of the steps and into a crumbled heap on the ground, the corpse dropping with a soft 'thud'. He sat on the stairs, his rifle across his lap, first checking how many rounds he had left in the current mag in use, then how many magazines he had left, which was one, and then he grabbed a cigarette and began smoking it, knowing he probably only had about fifteen minutes till a truck could get out to their location with supplies, and then they'd be back on to Victory Park.

[Itailian Maifias]

[ Mature ]

Lance Corporal Lynn Francis
A Company, 2nd Battalion, Essex Regiment/Prince of Wales Own
Fighting in Wanstead Flats, south of Redbridge, London, Engaldn
June 9th, 2014; 1427 Hrs [UTC+5]

"Get your fucking heads down, artillery incoming!"

"Francis, Wilson, get the fuck to some cover!"

Lynn barely heard his sergeant on the platoon net through the headpiece in his left ear, the sounds of the overwhelming amount of gunfire was simply too much of a barrage on any soldier's ears, but the pair heard it in time to fall back from their defensive positions inside the construction site just south-west of the Olympic Stadium, the two broke into a full run hoping the bullets would continue to fly around them and not through them as they left the large construction pit and made it over the berm, to a large grass and hedges strip, then a simple road and behind that was the Stadium himself, which was currently abuzz with activity. It had originally been taken, with no resistance, by the Essex Regiment at approximately 0845, after hours of trudging westward from their prior position and it was deemed that it would become a Combat Position, or CP London. The absence of a roof made it easy for the Wildcat and Merlin helicopters to rally in supplies and vehicles, but that had only just recently started and indeed, if one looked northward they would see a flight of eight Merlins, carrying vehicles and cargo in straps coming towards the Stadium; their delivery was vital and Lynn's job, along with every other member of 2nd and 3rd Battalion which were both fully deployed on the 'island' was to repel the Guard off of the island back into the rest of the city; right now, they were about half way.

The main Guard presence was approximately a company and a half's worth of men advancing through the construction site, as well as at least a single battalion scattered across the office buildings, all of whom had taken up positions in windows, behind walls or other objects/static locations and were now pouring fire on the Coalition defenders, who had some temporary defenses set up in the parking lot, as well as more emplaced positions on the Stadium exterior itself; machine guns and mortars were exchanging fire, as evidenced by a number of buildings that had smoking holes were steel and glass once were.

Just a few moments after Lynn had fallen back, several large crashing sounds were heard as the large caliber shells fired by the AS90 battery slammed into the pit, utterly shredding any organic material in between their shrapnel radius. The strikes, seven in count, left behind a short silence, which was quickly resumed as each side targeted the others position and poured every amount of firepower into it. 2nd Battalion's troops were almost entirely lined up on this berm, and they soon were concentrating their fire on the few remaining Guardsmen in the previously struck sandpit, the men by large were exposed and dazed and within moments, were almost entirely gunned down. This triggered a surge, and at this point, infantry with 3rd Battalion moved up from the parking lot and using extra machine guns were laying down heavy suppressive fire on the office and storefronts, glass shattering and mists of red being kicked up as the heavy caliber rounds were being flung down range at incredible velocities, suppressing the Imperial Guardsmen to a point, even still though a number of the men sprinting with Lynn were cut down by gunfire, but most made it to the large stone walls at the edge of the 'island' that stopped one from going into the river, and immediately they began using the static cover to lay down more effective fire. Even still though, it was a heavy fight, and the height advantage possessed by the Guard was proving to be highly effective, but efforts were taken to displace this. Mortars were proving inaccurate on the higher stories of the buildings, however within a few minutes rockets screamed over Lynn's head as he emptied his magazine through a broken window, and they were soon followed by an overflight of two Apache gunships, which were emptying their Hydra loads into the buildings, encasing the steel buildings in a fiery barrage, and sending the melted and shredded metal structure to the ground.

Lynn watched in amazement as the three gunships teamed up and unloaded three rockets each into the large triangular building to his northeast, which was host to a large amount of the incoming fire, and was partly shocked as the steel, brick and facade was literally thrown across the district as the building exploded from the inside seemingly and was reduced to it's ground level and a few charred, burning remnants of it's upper levels. At this point, the Merlin helicopters had also unloaded their cargo, which was a number of armored vehicles, in this case, Bulldog APC's for the Regiment to use, and six of them were already lined up in column fashion on the road outside of the Stadium, ready to bear the troops to wherever; with all this fighting, Lynn had lost track and simply was following his sergeant. Already, he could hear the orders coming over his headset to regroup on the road, and he took the time to make a slower pace and try to catch his breath, he noticed as he let his rifle hang from it's strap that his hands were shaking. He shook his head, as if to shake off a bad feeling and pulled out his canteen as he walked and chugged the contents and then put his mind back on task, trying to ignore the creeping exhaustion and fatigue.

The camo-painted carriers were waiting on the road, their turrets already manned and in the case of the lead vehicle, already engaging remnant resistance in the shattered remains of the Old Ford district; following the gunship strike, two Dragon GR.3's screamed overhead and in the distance, massive clouds of fire, and smoke were sent into the air as a bombing run with more then sixteen bombs ended the existence of most buildings, and people, in the district surrounding the Stadium.

Lynn caught up with what was left of his platoon, missing about one third of its members if his quick count was accurate, and his sergeant was already talking "Alright gents, this is just in from the top; we're going to push forward towards A112, the Green Howards have advanced ahead of us to try and secure Barbican but have become bogged down in Whitechapel, we are to be their reinforcements. With us, Wellington is going to advance along A10 on a eastern approach to hit the buggers from the right and Yorkshire is coming with us once they regroup, we expect about an hour or three delay, they've been hit pretty hard. Alright, let's load up lads, move your legs!"

The soldiers immediately started moving to load up into the carriers, and within four moments, the convoy was embarked, and moving northwards, traversing over terrain and through the smoldering ruins of the Old Ford district; during this, Lynn was grateful that the vehicle had no windows. While the men sat in silence, nothing but the sounds of combat and the roar of the diesel engine and the tracks, someone at the head had found a crate of ammunition and was passing mags down the benches, the men shoving them in their holders, and Lynn took three to replace the ones he had used, and even clipped a few grenades onto the rest of his gear.

It didn't take much longer before they could hear the rattling as the fifty caliber machine gun on top was being fired off repeatedly, and soon two louder explosions sounded off and the adrenaline began pumping back into the men as the war took them back in with an embrace; suddenly, a much louder explosion and what sounded like a crash and the whole vehicle shook before suddenly it stopped. The green light near the exit ramp flickered to life, and the ramp lowered, the men filing out with their rifles raised unsure of what they were stepping out into. It soon become apparent they had been run through the wall of a large factory, and stopped on the inside, blast marks on the left armor near the track and they soon filed outside to find two more carriers, one smoking and the other bearing just as many hit marks, their sergeant on the street already, motioning for the men to move in. As they walked to him, they could see on the northbound road, the burning wreck of one of the Bulldogs, and could see men running forward, bullets zipping back and forth.

"We got fucked the minute we neared Whitechapel, our boys up there have lost their strategic positions and we hit some serious anti-armor defenses, we lost two carriers and the others are pretty hit, there's no way we're getting in there without heavy armor, and that'll be coming up later with the rest of the Regiment. Alright, look here, we're going to redeploy and use some combat initiative."

He pulled a map out and spread it out over the hood of a civilian car that was parked on the street, his left index finger indicating their position. "Alright, we're right here, on the opposite side of B126 outside this textile factory. Green Howards are here, holding in this construction site, maintaining a presence in these front four leading buildings with a CP inside the courtyard if you would."

The sergeant stopped to think for a moment before he spoke "Alright, radio, get on the horn with Regiment and let them know we're going to cross the tracks and get on B126, and we're going to push towards the Tower of London, which according to reports as a AA vehicle there which is suppressing air support in the region. But they need to get something heavy and shove it up A11 and Allie Street, and support the fuck out of the Green Howards. Push them back into the Barbican, and then we can push up to secure the Tower and with them and Wellington's advance, we got the fuckers on three sides."

The young woman nodded and pulled off the backpack radio she carried and immediately began accessing the controls to dial into the Regimental command channels and transmit the message her sergeant had just told her. Lynn noticed his sergeant walk through the crowd and up to Lynn "Alright Francis, I lost Smith so I need a new lead for Team 2, you're hit. Callsign is Holly 3-1 okay, get with Jarrett, Poole, Martinson, Petit, Faulkner, Gardener, and Douglass, they're your squadron and you're in command. LT is KIA, he was in the lead carrier that you see burning over there so I'm going to have to take over for the whole platoon. "

Lynn formed a quick salute "Aye sir."

He then walked over to the group of seven men that were all sitting down on the sidewalk "Alright Holly 3, you lot are with me now, it's Francis."

They all muttered a quick hello or nod of the head and Lynn immediately began going over the formation and role he wanted, talking as quick as he could because he knew that the sarge would have them moving out in any second, and indeed, within a few minutes he saw the radiomen run up to the sergeant "Sergeant, Reg says 3rd and 1st Bat are on their way with Challenger support, going to follow basically exactly what you said. They're also going to split off a Warrior IFV to support us, ETA 11 mikes."

The sergeant shook his head "No time, we need to move now. Get that IFV's callsign and let them know to RV at the Tower, we're going to advance time now. Let's move ladies, split column, either side of the road."

The remaining thirty three members of the platoon took up the ordered formation and began progressing at a light jog, each keeping their rifle at half-cock, ready to move it up and fire off rounds at any moment, the adrenaline pumping through their body as the only thing to sustain them; they had been in combat for sixteen plus hours, and longer without sleep; they were going to have to push, push hard, and make this a fight to count so they could bunker down and resupply and rest.

They crossed the rail lines without incident and were soon moving down B126, the burning smoke pillars from the battle for Whitechapel streaming up into the sky off to their east, and in front of them, high-rise office buildings that climbed up to the sky. Over the net, they could hear the sounds as the armored thrust of the 1st and 3rd Battalions hit Whitechapel, and indeed they watched as more fireballs were seen in the sky, but soon their attention was snapped back into focus as their sergeant called out for a stop, halting before an intersection, near two high office buildings. "Alright, we're going to enter these buildings and head to the roof, it will provide us overlook over the full Tower of London complex. We'll eliminate as much as we can, once the resistance has folded, we'll advance through the southern gate of the complex, now, on me, let's move."

The troops stormed through the building, which had looked deserted with it's empty parking lot, lights shut off and furniture-less interior; they progressed quickly through the four story building, where upon reaching the roof, they quickly began setting up their two machine guns carried with them, and within ten minutes, every member was laying prone, their weapon rested on the stone wall at the top of the roof, and each taking aim at a particular target. Lynn himself had borrowed a pair of binoculars and was observing the the compound; a static-twin barrel AA unit could be seen in the courtyard, likely an older model from the middle of the last century but it looked operational, and in addition to that there was about a platoon's worth of men inside the compound and on the walls for defense; their sergeant ordered them to mark their targets, everyone selecting one and then, after two minutes, the order went out and the unsuspecting garrison at the Tower had fury unleashed on them; the machine guns targeted the clusters of men first while the single riflemen were firing at the individuals; the marksmen on the keeps went down quickly and atleast a dozen of the men in the compound were quickly cut down as the machine guns rattled off their rounds.

At this point, the Guardsmen had settled into the natural defenses offered by the ancient fortifications and were soon returning fire, though not in as large of a concentration as the Coalition troops were pouring down on them. However, much to their dismay, they soon spotted a Guard-painted Foxhound with a RWS of a .50 caliber machine gun roll out of the main entrance and immediately begin firing upon them; its rounds sliced through the concrete and took out two of the soldiers, before all of a sudden it exploded in a fiery crash, jumping a few meters in the air from the force before returning the ground. Lynn looked out of the corner of his eye and noticed the Warrior IFV moving up the old street, it's main gun firing on the infantry exposed in the fields outside of the walls while the secondary machine gun was targeting those hiding behind the battlements. With the added support from both sides, the defenders were soon quickly over-run, to the point where the fire from the garrison was noticeably weak and the sergeant ordered the men to fall off the roof and head towards the gate, while the IFV distracted those that were left.

At this point, the men were sprinting across the old road, heading for the southern postern gate, stacking up on individual sides of the door before they began filing into the massive courtyard, the front four picking off two remaining defenders on the wall that had their packs to them, and Lynn spotted two Guardsmen coming out of a side door, he quickly pulled the trigger, he lost count of how many times, but his eyes noticed as his large rounds sliced through the defenders and sent them to the floor in a crumpled mess, leaving large blood patches on the wall and seeping pools of it on the floor. They secured the AA site, placing two demo charges on it for later clearance before regathering around their sergeant off-center in the courtyard. "Alright,Francis, Ferguson, take your squadrons and clear the whole compound, I want every room searched; if it's locked, shoot it off and secure the room, I'm going to get on the horn with B Company and see if they can make their way here and we'll set up a FOB here."

[Itailian Maifias]

[ Mature ]

Lance-Sergeant Callen Ian Lecuyer
3rd "Gauntlets" Battalion, 4th Imperial Guards Regiment
Inside Barracks-B1, at Sandal Castle, near City of Wakefield, West Yorkshire
June 9th, 2014; 0645 Hrs [UTC+5]


Some form of sounds slowly filtered into the one ear of Callen's that wasn't squished flat into a pillow, and slowly, his body awoke from it's slumber, almost like a machine, the rest of his body came to life and he let out a low early morning groan as he rolled over from his right side onto his back, slowly blinking the fogginess that came with a wake-up from his eyes,and he immediately found the thing that woke him up; or the woman he should say, the voluptuous woman with long brown hair who was currently riding herself with great pleasure on top of who he knew was his bunkmate. He scowled in disgust and shouted at the both of them before dragging himself out of bed and heading for the shared bathroom for their little room.

The minute he reached the door, he shoved the door close to block out the loud noises, and flicked on the lights, briefly examining his stubbel in the mirror before jumping into the hot shower. As he let the hotter then average water cascade over his body, his mind wandered to thinking about filing for a new bunkmate; fourth time this week Joel had brought back some piece of ass and kept him up or woke him up with it; it was unbecoming of an NCO, let alone a Guardsmen all together. Only reason he got away with it was because their lieutenant was on the other end of the barracks, and very few liked him, thus, he heard very little.

The shower, and a quick shave afterwards to remove the blond stubble beginning to creep out, only took him approximately fifteen minutes, and by the time he had exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, he noticed that the woman was now passed out on the bunk opposite of his, with her back to him, and his bunkmate was snoring; loudly.

He shook his head in contempt and then carefully began dressing, ensuring that every part of his black and maroon piped dress uniform was to the highest form of standards, no loose strings, every medal and ribbon carefully measured and placed, buttons shined, ironed without any wrinkles, so on. He dared not risk angering his boss, his newer boss; he already hated being Chief Adjutant as it was, which was funny, because he thought he hated being in command of a fireteam.

He quickly got dressed and grabbed his brown suitcase, and then began walking at his usual brisk tempo, his spit-shined black dress boots clapping down with a fervor on the tiled flooring as he made his way from the grey-painted two story barracks, whose rectangular form was next to three others inside the massive courtyard of the Castle, and his goal was ultimately the command room inside the keep itself. The castle, keep and walls were all rebuilt in the 1600s to the former standard from the castle that had been razed by Parliamentary forces in the late 1400s, and was even expanded the following century, and now used here, as a base for their most risky operation yet; one he fully didn't understand, but he liked the pay he got with this job, and he did not wished to be vanished to some remote part of God Knew Where, so, he did what every soldier was expected to, especially on in his role; help General Bellerose do his jobs, do what he tells you to, and be a good boy.

He arrived at his desk, which sat right outside the door into the General's personal office, and immediately began to task himself to his work; even though he was approximately an hour early, he was counting on being distracted by extra assignments from the General, especially because he knew he had an important meeting with several divisional commanders at 0600 this very morning, so he figured that he would be getting some work out of the fallout from that. His first work of the day consisted of a number of mundane paperwork duties, which he immediately set to doing, usually his eyes jumping from conferring with a file from the stack on his desk, to inputting an electronic record into the Guard's database. He did this work for approximately an hour, taking only one break to grab himself a mug of coffee from the machine in the back of the room, until his intercom on his desk phone buzzed, the strange accent of the General coming through and demanding he come into the meeting, and Callen quickly grabbed himself a legal pad with a fresh page and a pen and orderly walked through the double oak doors, revealing a typically shaped conference table, which had a number of it's seats filled. Bellerose was of course sitting at the head of the table, to his right was a female officer with brigadier tabs on her shoulders, and Callen believed he recalled her name to be Keri Johns, commander of the division in Manchester currently, and then also at the table was Henry Niadh, the commander of the Division stationed here at Sandal, and then Ansel Matheson, who was the overall commander for their defenses in London; judging from body language, Callen surmised an argument of sorts was being had.

Bellerose motioned for him to take a seat at a table off to the side and take notes, and Callen took a seat immediately, listening as the conversation continued on, Bellerose's Cornish accent dominating the room easily "I will not take excuses Matheson, we have almost the entirety of our forces concentrated in London, you need to hold it at all costs and not give them but an inch, we need to secure more places of power and turn more units over to us."

Keri then spoke out "Any word speaking of which on replacement air support after the embarrassment with the QE2? My armor in Manchester is getting hit with the pound-to-pound combat and they're slightly winning with the heavy air support the RAF is bringing to bear against me."

"If you think I'll take excuses from you either Brigadier, you have another thing coming; Manchester should have been secured a long time ago, and you are very lucky I haven't strung you up for dereliction so far!"

"Sir, I am doing the best with the resources given to me but-"

"Enough! I don't want to hear it! It's time we ended things there; Lecuyer here has been an decent aide to me these last six months, I'm reassigning him to you, maybe he can show you how to actually win something! Now both of you, get out of here!"

Keri nodded with a furious look on her face, and shot a steely look at the stunned Callen, who quickly shot up to catch up with the woman storming out of the office.

[Layarteb]

OOC: Okay now that this RP has had some more details and activity it's better to consolidate the posts I've written and further rewritten.

June 6, 2014 - 08:00 hrs [UTC-5]
Layarteb City, New York
Ministry of Intelligence
(40° 47' 10" N, 73° 55' 58" W)

In the Ministry of Intelligence there was no shortage of secure conference rooms abbreviated as SCOR. A massive, three-year remodel of the building in the late 1990s resulted in one of the most high-tech buildings in the entirety of the Empire and one of the biggest features was giving each and every section a small meeting place of their own that was secure and could be used at any given point in time. The theory behind it was to eliminate cross-cubicle talk for discussions and encourage group discussions on matters, thereby leading to more input. One of the downsides was that the increase in meeting rooms led to an increase in meetings and no one ever got a thing done when they were shuttling back and forth between meetings. Anyone in corporate could have told the Ministry of Intelligence that but unfortunately, this was how it was now.

On this early, Friday morning, rather than begin the day's workload, the members of the Europe Section in the Intelligence Directorate were seated around the conference table, crowding into every square inch of table space. Their section chief was Evan Brown, a longtime employee who'd worked his way up the ranks from being just an analyst to section chief. There was talk of him being taped to run the entire European Division, which included the Europe Section and the Russia Section but he didn't want that job. He was happy in this little fiefdom right here as section chief and nothing more.

Starting off the meeting, Evan asked what people had on their plates. "EDP has a conference tomorrow afternoon in London," said one of the senior analysts, Rich Hale.

"Any idea what it's about?"

"It's their annual summit but we suspect that the Dutch are going to play a very prominent role in the conference. Between the Pakistani War and the Amigardian Conflict, they've stretched themselves to the breaking point and the Banjamosi government isn't doing much to contribute. How they've stayed in the EDP this long is a bit of a mystery to all of us, probably no alternative."

"Didn't we have reports of friction within the ranks of the Banjamosi government and military? The place hasn't been considered 'stable' for some time now, not since their last Empress stepped down in what was it, 2011?" Evan said, asking a question that received a few head nods from those involved with the Empire of Banjamos. "Any chance of that leading to something here?"

"Not as far as we can tell. We don't have an embassy in London with this government, haven't in a long time what with the preceding Goodrule government before them. Operations has a network but it's mostly an early warning network."

"Well have they triggered any warnings?"

"Ops says no," replied Tracy Kuzma who usually acted as the liaison between the Europe Section in the Operations Directorate; she continued, "they're treating this as just another routine conference, snapping photos of who's there and nothing much else."

"All right well if Ops isn't concerned then we'll just play along with our usual routine and treat it as anything else. What's next?" And so it went, the Ministry of Intelligence wouldn't be as concerned about the conference as they should have been had they a crystal ball. Surely the Cottish would be on high-alert and that was enough. While the Empire only had sour relations with London, the Cottish had sour relations with both London and the Dutch. Any gathering of those nations put the Cottish on the highest of alert and with the intelligence sharing of the October Alliance there would be a steady stream of information from the Cottish. For the Empire, it was just another conference and there were other priorities.

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June 7, 2014 - 08:00 hrs [GMT]
Fintona, Ireland
Fintona Air Force Base
(54° 28' 5" N, 7° 18' 32" W)

Major Jerry Wheatley set the E-10B Overwatch gently down on runway 15, which was the shorter of the two runways at Fintona Air Force Base. As his co-pilot applied the thrust reversers and the giant Boeing 767-400ER began to slow down rapidly on the 2,400-meter runway, using up three-quarters of it before Jerry handed over taxi controls to his co-pilot. "Take her in; I'll start working on post-flight."

"Roger," the co-pilot answered as he took over control and taxied the giant jetliner towards its hangar spot. Atop the big jetliner, the radar dish was slowing down to its minimum rotation speed, which was just a quarter of a revolution per minute, designed to keep the bearings lubricated and all of the parts still functioning.

The Overwatch carried two radars and a crew of thirty-six specialists to operate them both. The big one on top of the aircraft was the AN/APY-11, an L band AESA radar designed for search and track of aerial targets regardless of whether they were flying at high-altitude or down in the weeds as far out as the horizon allowed. It could also pick up ships but it wasn't normally used for that sort of tracking. For ground tracking, the Overwatch mounted the AN/APY-7 in a canoe underneath the fuselage. This was an X band AESA radar designed for the tracking of ground targets out to 150 miles. The Overwatch was essentially the E-767 with an improved, AESA radar mated to the E-8 J/STARS' role. One aircraft could direct both air and ground battles in any given battlespace.

The thirty-six man crew was tired since they'd been on station for ten hours now. Patrols were normally eight on and sixteen off except in times of conflict when that could rise to ten and fourteen or, if resources were short, twelve and twelve. The Overwatch had a 10-hour endurance at 1,150 nautical miles and a 13-hour endurance at 300 nautical miles. Patrols around Ireland were at the shorter distance so the endurance could be much longer. For all patrols, the aircraft essentially had two crews. The pilot and co-pilot could remain in their seats for an entire eight hour flight but for anything more they generally swapped with another crew halfway through the mission. The battle staff, as a rule, switched places every two hours so that half of the thirty-six specialists were on duty at any time. They followed the time restrictions of civilian air traffic controllers to ensure that fatigue didn't cause them to miss anything.

Half an hour later, Jerry was sitting in the squadron's briefing room listening to the debriefing from his patrol. For him and his co-pilot, they just flew around in circles for eight hours watching the night turn into morning. They had nothing to report, not even turbulence. The mission crew had noted nothing either and the debriefing broke up by 09:20 so that everyone could get some rest. Wheels up time was at 23:00 so that they could be on station at 23:30, relieving the other aircraft, which would then come down to land at midnight.

For Wheatley, it would be another hour before he got home and settled. He would hug his wife and his kids and then crash out for eight hours, as mandated by regulations, aiming to be back on base by 20:00 at the latest. It was tough flying the late patrols and nothing ever happened. He was questioning whether he wanted to remain as a pilot with the air force, knowing that the late flights were putting a strain on his marriage and the relationship he had with his kids. He had vacation coming up and with the kids coming out of school in two weeks he and the whole family would be flying to Orlando, Florida for a week to take the kids to Disney World. They were looking forward to it and so was he, hoping to enjoy some quality time with his family instead of his co-pilot, a man he thought a bit too dry for eight-hour patrols.

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June 7, 2014 - 12:20 hrs [GMT]
London, Britain
St Stephen's Tavern Pub
(51° 30' 3" N, 0° 7' 32" W)

Daniel Colby was in his mid-thirties and going on his seventh year in London. He spent the first three hiding from the all-pervasive police state of the Goodrule government only to find that its collapse did not herald a vast reversal in governments. The Banjamosi government wasn't nearly as hostile as the Goodrule government was but they were far from looking to reconcile with the Empire over the years of animosity fostered by the totalitarian Goodrule government. With the destruction of that government though, Colby was able to assume the cover of a trade merchant for a fictitious Spanish company that was wholly owned by the Ministry of Intelligence. The legitimate work he did for his cover, he had to admit, was more interesting than the work he did as a case officer for the Ministry of Intelligence.

Colby was a spitting image of the Hollywood version of a spy. He was tall with devilishly handsome looks but he didn't drink martinis and he hated tuxedos. He preferred vodka to anything and when he couldn't find a suitable vodka he could settle for whiskey or scotch. Gin wasn't even on his list of acceptable beverages. Colby had spent the morning with his telephoto lens snapping photographs of the officials arriving at Westminster Palace, images that he would be passing onto the Ministry of Intelligence the moment he got back to his flat on the other side of the city, which was nearer to Heathrow than it was to where he currently sat.

Where he currently sat was not originally on his list of places to visit but not more than twenty minutes earlier, his cell phone rang with the voice of Tara Hanson, an asset he'd recruited some three years earlier. Tara was a pretty if pale redhead who worked in the justice ministry as an aide. Plenty of useful information crossed her desk but little of it warranted the risk of passing it along to Colby and the Layartebians. In those three years she'd passed on only four pieces of intelligence, two of which were important but not necessarily crucial. The other two were very important, one being the Banjamosi interest in aligning with the EDP and the other being a secret task force geared to helping ex-Goodrule officials change their identities. Being an aide to the justice ministry, Hanson wasn't privy to military matters and so she provided only information about the Banjamosi criminal matters though the tidbit about ex-Goodrule officials changing their identities was incredibly valuable would help lead to some very important Goodrule officials hiding out in Andorra but that operation wasn't for another four months.

When Tara finally passed through the pub's doors it was twenty after noon and Colby was helping himself to a small lunch. Exasperated, she sat down, practically crashing into the booth, out of breath and unwilling to let her purse off of her shoulder. "You look completely disheveled Tara what's wrong?"

"Something's happening today at the conference," she said with a low whisper. Colby beckoned for her to explain while he finished the last bites of his lunch. He'd already paid just in case he had to jet out and he was suddenly pleased he had. "I saw something two days ago, very hush hush about upcoming tribunals. It didn't make much sense at the time and I was trying to figure it out but then this morning an e-mail flashed by," she put her phone on the table and passed it over to Colby who picked it up as he put his fork down and read the text. It spoke of a need for "trusted judges" to officiate "loyalty trials" for unnamed figures.

"Okay something is definitely happening but how do you know that something's happening today?"

"I got a phone call from someone telling me to keep a low profile today."

"Who's this someone?"

"An admirer," she didn't blush or smile.

"Oh yeah?" Colby did, "Anything between you two?"

"He wishes but he's married. I long ago made a promise not to do that again."

"Again?" He laughed, "All right so something's happening today and its big enough to warrant this. From the language it screams…" Just then a dull roar filled the air and the entire pub shook. "Well shit," Colby said as he stood up from the booth. "Get home and get there fast. Thank you Tara. I'll be in touch." He handed her back his cell phone and followed the confused patrons out of the door with his camera in hand. There he saw smoke rising from an unseen part of Westminster Palace. He pulled out his own cell phone and put it to his ear while he snapped a few photographs like any gaping tourist would. When the other side of the line answered his voice was strained despite his best efforts to keep it calm, "Colby for Hendershot, tell him that it's about Swiftshire."

"Hold one moment Mister Colby…"

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June 7, 2014 - 08:30 hrs [UTC-5]
Layarteb City, New York
Fortress of Comhghall
(40° 41' 28" N, 74° 0' 58" W)

It may have been a Saturday and the Empire might have been five hours behind London but with the right code words, anyone could wake anyone else and get them to a phone. When that code word had reached the Emperor he was in the Fortress of Comhghall's exercise room running on the treadmill coming up on mile number nine. The Fortress of Comhghall was a twenty-four hour operation and there were always staffers there and on this morning, he was bothered by a twenty-nine year old named Gloria Richardson whose heels clicked on the tiled floor of the exercise room as she walked up behind the Emperor.

"Sir, there's an urgent matter for you to attend to right now."

"How urgent Gloria?" The Emperor asked as he continued towards the ninth mile of the morning.

"Bravo level sir, code word information," Gloria answered and that immediately got the Emperor to stop three hundred and eighty-two meters short of nine miles. Catching his breath, he stepped off of the treadmill and steadied himself. Gloria handed him a towel and he followed her out of the room and then bypassed and went straight to his office.

In his reception area, Helen handed him a packet and he shut the doors behind him after she informed him that the National Security Advisor was on his way in and would be there within the hour. Inside, the Emperor patched into an ongoing teleconference and looked at the clock. It had been thirty-five minutes since the attack on Westminster and the principles of the Layartebian National Security Council were all on the line and in the loop already.

After receiving the timeline of events, including Colby's very late call, the Emperor took a seat at the conference table, instead of pacing around it listening, and checked his watch. It was 08:30 and an hour since the attack. Just as he was about to speak, Robert Crawford passed through the doors and put his briefcase down on the table. He was nearly out of breath from hustling through the cavernous building, having arrived at the front by way of car instead of the convenient helipad.

"Sir we're looking at a major crisis here," he had not been on the line due to a myriad of factors.

"I'm read up Robert," the Emperor answered, "we need to elevate our forces in Ireland to maximum state of readiness. That we don't know who is responsible or what is happening makes this a grave matter. Is there anything whatsoever even hinting at the possibility of Goodrule action behind the scenes?"

"No sir, not a word," replied the Minister of Intelligence.

"Given the lack of information that we have, do we suspect that this could be the doing of ex-Goodrule officials?"

"It's unlikely sir," responded Crawford. "Operation CARBON FIX has had trouble tracking them but one thing we know for certain is that Goodrule officials are not in positions of power or influence in London. There may be one or two lingering here and there but not on a large scale."

"Okay so we will scratch that off of our list of worries but this has dangerous implications. The Cottish will go to high alert fearing an invasion. What has troop activity along the Scotland Line shown?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary sir," answered Minister Sanders of Defense, "right now the Banjamosi military has remained in its usual posture of defense along the northern borders. We have no uptick in naval activity around the area either. Whatever the extent of what's happening, if it really is a coup, it's not widespread enough just yet."

"They could have been forced to play their hand early," Crawford answered, "we're completely in the dark here."

"Then we do what we do best and prepare for the worst. I want full states of alert in both Ireland and Iceland. Whatever OPLANs we have pertaining to this situation I want them dusted off and rapidly put into action so that if something happens we are prepared to fight back with everything we can muster on a moment's notice."

"Sir there is something to consider," said Chairman-General John Carvalho as all ears and eyes followed him, "the Banjamosi military is in possession of countless CBRN weapons held over from the Goodrule days. We know that the Goodrule military openly possessed nuclear arms and we watched, the hard way, as they utilized chemical weaponry. We've uncovered information on a stockpile of radiological weapons and a biological weapons program as well. There are tactical nuclear bombs at numerous Tornado bases throughout the country. Should we detect launch activity at any one of these bases and determine further that those aircraft are headed towards us we need to assume that they may be armed with nuclear weapons."

"It's a longshot," Crawford said, "but it's a possibility. We need to know more about what's going on to ascertain for sure."

"You're right," the Emperor answered but to both men. "It may be a longshot but Chairman-General Carvalho is right to worry and that is why we have to be prepared to shoot down aircraft over Banjamosi airspace if we determine that they are a threat to us. How far do we let these aircraft go before we engage them?"

"Sir I would say the moment they cross the Banjamosi coastline for the Irish Sea or the Celtic Sea we engage them," Minister Sanders said.

"Objections?" The group was eerily silent and the Emperor nodded, "Then so be it. That's how we're going to respond. Until something further develops this is the crisis of the hour. Let's focus our resources on it and make sure EURCOM is read into everything."

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June 7, 2014 - 17:50 hrs [GMT]
Abbeyshrule, Ireland
Abbeyshrule Air Force Base
(34° 34' 35" S, 58° 25' 7" W)

General Joseph Collins might have been the commanding officer of EURCOM and in a very prestigious position but the last place he wanted to be was in the TOC at EURCOM's headquarters. A man who'd joined the air force in 1971 and flew an F-4D Phantom II in Venezuela wanted to be anywhere but on the ground. It was during that first tour that he amassed a solo kill on a MiG-17 Fresco and a shared kill on a MiG-19 Farmer. Transitioning to the F-15A Eagle, he flew during the Civil War for the rebels, shooting down a pro-government AV-8 Harrier I. With two and a half kills, he transitioning to the F-15C Eagle in 1989 and had hoped to make double ace status until one day in 1992 when his optometrist diagnosed him as near-sighted. With seven and a half kills under his belt by then he was one of the more highly decorated pilots in the ILAF but that was the end of his flying career.

Now sixty-one years old and three away from mandatory retirement, General Collins was in his sunset post and had been for six months. It had been quiet and boring, dull as he watched the aircraft scream into the skies at Abbeyshrule Air Force Base central Ireland. Abbeyshrule was a joint base split between the air force and the defense force with the latter stationing a wing of B-5 and EB-5 Badgers, a squadron of E-13 Swans, and three squadrons of A-10C Thunderbolt IIs. The defense force, on the other hand, stationed two squadrons of the old, venerable, and high performance F-45D Scorpion, two squadrons of the newer F-58A Viper, and a squadron each of A-10s, F-46E Enforcers, A-10Cs, B-5s, and the monstrous B-6B Dementor, a maritime patrol bomber. It was the high-speed fighters of the Air Defense Command that excited Collins the most as he watched them light their burners and scream into the skies where they would zoom climb to high altitude and patrol at supersonic speed. He'd taken one backseat ride in an F-45D Scorpion and it was the first time in his life that he'd exceeded Mach 3, joining a very small and select club of pilots who had.

Now he watched the threat board as a quartet of F-45Ds patrolled northern and southern Ireland. The interceptors were all carrying a loadout that maximized capability. One of each pair had four AIM-216A Halcyon ultra-long-range missiles while the other had twelve AIM-221A Meteor long-range missiles. Each aircraft carried four AIM-204A Escape missiles for dogfighting. Externally, they had held only drop tanks but those had long since been discarded. If the aircraft needed fuel now they could pull from tankers in orbit over Ireland or come back to base and be replaced on station by more F-45s.

In addition to them, the defense force had put up a quartet of B-6B Dementor bombers. Like the Scorpions, they had combined payloads for each pair with one aircraft carrying the massive, AGM-246C Swordfish internally while the other carried eight AGM-203B Imsdal anti-ship missiles. None of the aircraft carried external ordinance in order to maximize their patrol time. If more firepower was needed, the defense force would scramble the B-5C Badgers and the F-46E Enforcers with anti-ship AMESM missiles. EURCOM was taking no chances.

Coordination had been made with the Cottish in Scotland and Layartebian tankers were providing refueling support for the Cottish at the moment. Eventually, Cottish tankers would sortie and establish a northern refueling area for aircraft patrolling between Iceland and Scotland. London had been quiet since the early-afternoon attack but that didn't mean whatever was happening was done for the day. On the contrary, no one suspected it was. There was more in store for London.

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June 8, 2014 - 02:35 hrs [GMT]
Over Kildare, Ireland
Overwatch 2-1
(53° 12' 24" N, 6° 45' 36" W)

When Major Wheatley had woken up at 18:30 he hadn't expected to see his wife glued to the television as the media talked about whatever had happened in London six hours earlier. She'd let him sleep, knowing that he would be flying an important mission on this particular night. She'd heard the increased activity at Fintona of aircraft sortieing into the skies and knew what was up and she knew what plane her husband flew and its importance to any Layartebian war effort. He poured himself some coffee and let it cool while he grabbed a quick shower. He gave the television only ten minutes of attention before realizing that the media would know a lot less than even the dumbest of military intelligence's analysts.

He kissed his wife and his kids goodbye and now, eight hours later, he was flying on a heading of 210° at an altitude of 39,000 feet cruising at just over 455 knots or about 525 mph. So far everything had been quiet. The mission specialists watching their scopes noted no increased air or surface activity around or over England and Wales. From their altitude, the mission specialists watching the AN/APY-11 could see air activity all over England and Wales. The specialists watching the AN/APY-7 could see the Irish and the Celtic Seas and of course, the Banjamosi coastlines.

There was chaos abound in England. Westminster came under ground attack around 01:10 and this was passed onto Overwatch 2-1 as an intelligence report. Then they picked up the rogue Harrier attacking Middlesex though they couldn't truly ID the aircraft as anything but a bogey. Enfield's attack had registered as troubling but again the ID of the aircraft was a mystery. The Overwatch was detecting air activity but none yet from the Tornado bases.

Wheatley wasn't sure if the Banjamosi government was going to launch their Tornados when he suddenly heard through his headphones as a mission specialist watching a radar scope called out, "All flights, all flights, Overwatch 2-1, we have launch activity detected at Leeming. Aircraft are currently climbing through 500 feet now. ID is bogey, base holds Tornados." With that call over the main channel, the F-45 pilots on their BARCAP patrols began to feel the tension. They were flying "noses cold," which meant that their radars were off but it didn't matter. To maximize their fuel efficiency, they were flying at supercruise speeds, zipping around Ireland at high enough altitude that their sonic booms were barely more than a nuisance on the ground.

"Captain bring us around to a heading of 0-1-5 degrees please," called the "air boss" from the back and Major Wheatley acknowledged as he took the aircraft off of autopilot and slowly brought it around to a head of 15° with only slight pressure on the flight yoke. As the plane turned, the radar picture grew and the air boss commanded an increase in power. The APU generators would provide a sizeable amount of power to the radar, which had a peak output of 1.8 megawatts and a continuous, maximum output of 800 kilowatts. At present, the increase in power doubled its output from 50 kilowatts to 100 kilowatts, enough to get a good picture on the aircraft flying from Leeming.

"All flights, Overwatch 2-1, aircraft are flying due south on a heading of 1-8-0, low altitude, high subsonic speed, current position is Bulls-eye 0-7-3 at two hundred miles," the mission specialist announced to all Scorpion flights, allowing the pilots a moment to breathe easier. Flying south meant they weren't threatening the Empire but there was no telling if they would turn westward or not. The E-10B Overwatch would continue to fly north and then come around south to keep pace with the aircraft, keeping a solid radar picture of them. A second E-10B Overwatch was flying over Londonderry and would pick up the main position as the other Overwatch tracked southward on its racetrack pattern keeping tabs on the aircraft.

From this distance there was no way to tell if the aircraft were Tornados or flight of aggressive Learjets. An IFF squawk told the controller only that the aircraft weren't Layarteb, Cottish, or Apilonian, not that he needed an IFF squawk to know that no TOA nation had fighters deployed in the heart of Banjamosi territory. Procedures were simply procedures and the flight of Tornados could have been anything at this range. Still, this was a military airfield known to house Tornado GR4s, which meant tactical nuclear weaponry. Layartebian fighters would react accordingly and if the aircraft turned westward, they would be engaged as they crossed the coastline. The F-45D Scorpions on patrol in the southern sector were already receiving datalinked information on the aircraft from the orbiting E-10B.

Overwatch 2-1 continued southward as the Tornados flew on towards Portsmouth. It was about 240 miles for the Tornados to fly from Leeming to Portsmouth and they were moving quickly, having passed into maximum supersonic effort, tearing over the English countryside leaving a trail of sonic booms in their wakes. Overwatch 2-1 wasn't aware that the Ark Royal was going as fast as they could to sortie into the English Channel amidst the chaos. One fatal flaw in the positioning of Overwatch 2-1 was the fact that the launch of the Harriers from Portsmouth's naval air station went wholly undetected and this was simply because the Harriers would have had to either use their radars or fly above 1,250 feet AGL to be detected by the Overwatch. By keeping low and quiet, the Harriers at 285 miles away, were evading the Overwatch so all the mission specialists saw were the Tornados hauling ass towards Portsmouth and then rapidly blinking off of the screen.

"We've got an air battle going on," the mission specialist watching the targets noted as he saw the Tornados blink off of the screen. They were falling out of radar coverage, dropping down and not coming back up again.

"The navy must have scrambled their Sea Harriers," the air boss said from his station, "keep watching for aircraft. Captain take us up to angels forty-five."

"Roger that," Wheatley answered as he eased back on the yoke and took the E-10B up to 45,000 feet where the horizon further increase. From there, the radar could see down to 400 feet and the mission controllers watched as the Tornados and the Harriers fought one another in the skies of southern England. Wheatley came further to the east, closing some of the distance between them and Portsmouth but by then the Harriers were victorious. The air battle, as intense as it was, lasted only minutes before the Harriers proved themselves worth their weight, making the Banjamosi navy proud or perhaps angry, there was no way to know who was on who's side. The Tornados could have been the good guys or they could have been the bad guys and vice versa for the Harriers.

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June 7, 2014 - 22:00 hrs [UTC-5]
Layarteb City, New York
Ministry of Intelligence
(40° 47' 10" N, 73° 55' 58" W)

The Europe Section was full-staffed by now. The chaotic events in England had garnered the full and complete attention of the Empire and Evan Brown was feeling a lot of pressure due to the "miss" that the Ministry of Intelligence had with these events. Signals interception had just picked up a communique that requested "loyal units" of the Banjamosi navy go to Dover, which based on tracking information for the Ark Royal suggested that it had come under attack for not siding with the rebel elements launching the coup. The air battle with the Tornados had shown what capabilities the rebels had and it was now a question what naval units were loyal and which ones were rebel. Rebel units would certainly converge on Dover to attack the loyalist units. For all they knew, the Ark Royal could have been heading to Dover to attack the loyalist units, which meant that the Tornados weren't rebels.

There was a blackout for the Empire and the blackout meant suggestion and conjecture and not hard information. It was still unknown which side was which and there was something else falling into place. Within minutes of the communication to go to Dover, signals intelligence picked up a massive increase of white noise jamming. The rebels - or the loyalists - had turned on previously established jamming facilities along the coastline and was using them to prevent the other side from talking. Whatever channels weren't being jammed were thusly monitored but the jamming became sophisticated quickly and signals intelligence found itself fighting against the jamming and unable to break through whatever digital channels happened to be safe for clean communication.

"This is just one big clusterfuck," Evan said to his team. "Has Ops revealed anything yet?"

"Nope, they can't even get through to men on the ground," responded Tracy who had previously asked the question into the phone headset practically glued into her right ear. She was acting as the go-between for the Operations and the Intelligence Directorates' Europe Sections, which were in vastly different parts of the building.

"We need information and we need it fast," Evan said, "what is Ops doing?"

"Ops is going to emergency protocols with their agents. The military has been noting a massive increase of activity all around England and Wales beyond what we've seen so far. The Dutch appear to be involved in some manner."

"Well it's unlikely they're leading the rebels, they just don't have the forces for that kind of fight," a senior analyst named Tom Morales answered. Heads nodded in agreement.

"All right we need more and we're not sleeping until we get it, let's get some more coffee on and get on the line with EURCOM," Evan subsequently ordered.

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June 8, 2014 - 08:00 hrs [GMT]
Abbeyshrule, Ireland
Abbeyshrule Air Force Base
(34° 34' 35" S, 58° 25' 7" W)

General Collins had been fighting sleep for some time now, having been permanently glued to the TOC for about sixteen hours already. He had already issued a rapid call-up to the 27th Airborne Division at Fort Limerick to prepare for rapid deployment. The call-up would see the division's air cavalry brigade and its paratrooper brigade get into a defense posture. With the increased activity in England there was worry that the Isle of Man would come under threat and forces on the island were insufficient to counter a major, Banjamosi assault. Fighters would aim to knock down transports and ground defenses would do what they could but if the Banjamosi military launched an all-out attack on the Isle of Man, the Empire's forces there would need rapid reinforcement.

With the Cottish mobilizing on their side of the Scottish border and an increasing scope of military involvement working its tendrils through England and Wales, the Empire had no choice but to react in kind. If military action was required, the Imperial Layartebian Military would undertake OPLAN 2134, otherwise known as Operation MERCURY RISING. The plan called for a combined army and marine assault on the Welsh island of Anglesey to establish a staging point for Operation MERCURY SHARK, which was the full-on invasion of Wales. The Empire would be tasked with holding Wales while the Cottish came down from Scotland. The two-front war would aim to overwhelm the Banjamosi military and allow both nations to converge on and capture London. It was a holdover plan from the Goodrule days and one that had almost been enacted had both sides held firm with their possessions in Scotland.

General Collins knew that he would be a pivotal figure in the fight but he knew his limitations. He wasn't fit to command ground forces, he was a fighter pilot by trade and nothing that he'd learned since 1992 was anything beyond theoretical. He had no practical knowledge of orchestrating ground battles and for that he would lean on his executive office, Lieutenant General Pete Mars, of the ILMC. Mars had fought his way from platoon leader all the way to a three-star rank and he knew how to command ground forces and he knew it well. If either operation were launched, it would be Mars that would be making the command decisions on ground forces. All Collins would do would sign off on them in passing and make sure that the air cover was permanently there.

Listening to a sergeant from military intelligence talk about the scope of jamming on the British island made Collins uncomfortable. He hadn't known the Banjamosi military to have that extensive level of capability but it had been a holdover from the Goodrule military and so he was shortsighted to think that what the Goodrule possessed the Banjamosi military didn't. When he was done, a representative from the navy took over and gave Collins a bit of good news. "Sir we've got the 10th Cruiser Squadron positioned to what we need. We've got a Dnalkrad-class sitting in the Irish Sea and another operating in the Celtic Sea," Collins was thankful to hear this.

The Dnalkrad-class was an air defense ship designed as DLGN but called a "guided missile frigate" because its purpose was to swat down anything in the skies. The 15,350-ton "frigate" was fitted with 192 VLS cells and in those a sizeable number of Standard and ESSM surface-to-air missiles. The presence of one ship in the Irish Sea and another in the Celtic Sea certainly put them in harm's way should the Banjamosi military attack but they stood as an extra deterrent able to put up a wall of SAMs to protect Ireland from attack. An Unforgiven-class cruiser, operating in the Celtic Sea would coordinate between the two of them provide a wall to the south, protecting both ships from attack as best as it could manage.

[Layarteb]

OOC: The Dutch ambassador parts were written with Itailian Maifias on IRC.

June 8, 2014 - 11:00 hrs [UTC-5]
Layarteb City, New York
Fortress of Comhghall
(40° 41' 28" N, 74° 0' 58" W)

The War Room of the Fortress of Comhghall was as busy as any place could be. Military personnel and civilians intermingled in suits and uniforms, all staring at the same pieces of information. So far the coup in Banjamos had not threatened the Empire but that didn't mean the Emperor was going to let the Empire's guard down. They would stand firm and continue to put up a wall of force around the perimeter of Ireland just in case. Iceland, less likely to come under attack, had scaled down its alert but they were still ready to get into the skies and do battle to protect the island from hostiles.

"Sir we've got a new update," Chairman-General Carvalho said as he put down a phone. "It looks like major military action has occurred at Abingdon and nearest we can tell, it is no longer in rebel hands. There's Tornados there sir."

"So loyalists, whoever the hell they are, are in control of whatever nuclear weaponry is there?"

"It would seem that way sir. Airborne early warning picked up a large flight of helicopters going to the base, large ones, Chinook-sized sir."

"So it's a staging point then?"

"It would seem that way sir; Chinooks bring lots of men or big pieces of equipment."

"We can't rest easy; we have no idea who the loyalists really are. What else, what about that joint EDP base you mentioned earlier?"

"That's Delphi sir in Essex, about seventy-five miles from Abingdon. We don't have much about it on the wire. The jamming is highly effective and we surmise that the base is likely still intact. We haven't seen heavy air activity near there yet."

The Emperor picked up the phone a moment later, "Get me the Dutch ambassador ASAP," he said into the phone and put it down moments later he turned and looked around the room, "It's time we put a stop to this information blackout. It's been nearly twenty-eight hours since Westminster was attacked. We've heard nothing from the Dutch despite their being on friendly terms with us and the Cottish are getting ready to storm southward. For that matter we're in a position to launch operations of our own. I'm getting on the line with the Dutch and getting an explanation for these things now! If you need me I am in my office." With that he turned around and marched out of the door and to the private elevator that zipped him right up to his office. Crossing the hallway and walking through the receptionist area he saw his receptionist on the phone, working diligently to get a hold of the Dutch ambassador.

Twenty minutes later the Dutch ambassador was on the line and the Emperor had to calm his voice, "Mister Ambassador we have a crisis right now. What is happening in Banjamos as we speak? We've been monitoring significant military activity since yesterday and we need to know what is going on there. The Empire isn't in a position to play a guessing game Mister Ambassador. We have our forces on full and high alert and what is just a situation on the ground in England can quickly become a massive, regional conflict that neither side can afford.

"Let me be frank Mister Ambassador," the Emperor continued, not letting the Dutch ambassador get a word in edgewise yet, "if we or the Cottish detect any immediate threat to the sovereignty of either of our nations there will be a proportional military response by either party. If the Cottish react so will we in kind and vice versa. This is a dangerous game we're playing here and London needs to know what's at stake here if they continue whatever game is going on there."

With that, the Dutch ambassador was finally able to speak. Being far from the action in Layarteb City, he was guaranteed to provide answers but he had none present, a disappointment for the Emperor but the man conveyed the severity of the situation plainly to the Dutch ambassador and would expect results, some results, really any results that would help him stand down and bring the Cottish down too to avoid another regional conflict there.

Archard was sitting in his office as the Emperor conveyed his extreme concerns over the phone line and he was sure he felt his palms begin to sweat slightly as he held the receiver of the phone to his ear while he had a number of his subordinates in the room with him. It was the Prime Minister's request that the call remain private. As soon as the Emperor finished speaking, Archard replied in his Basque-accented voice, taking time to ensure that the colorful tone to his voice didn't impede any of the information being relayed "Sir, Prime Minister Soer has just finished a phone conversation with me just fifteen minutes ago and gave me the information I'm about to share with you.

"I'm sure you know of the EDP summit being held and then the sudden chaos and military units being scrambled, so allow me to give you the one piece of the puzzle you are missing. At approximately 12:32 on June 7, a coup was initiated by the Banjamosi Imperial Guard and a small number of other rebellious units within the Banjamosi hierarchy. Loyalist elements in their capital London were quickly eliminated or heavily attacked and what did escape regrouped at Aldershot. It was at this time that our representative there, Generaal Penders, began working with loyalist forces to regain control of the region but also to eliminate a region-wide jamming system that had been activated when the attacks began. At the time of this phone call, that system has been destroyed and Banjamosi and Dutch units are moving to retake London to ascertain the status of the Banjamosi government. To be clear, this is an internal matter, and no threat is posed towards either yourself, or the Cottish Realm."

The Emperor did not know what to fully make of the situation. He knew as much as the activity going on but he still had unanswered concerns. "As you know, the spillover of this conflict is a grave and present danger to the national security of both the Empire and the Cottish Realm. Our concerns include the status of nuclear weapons and the possibility of retaliatory attacks upon either of our forces to draw us into the conflict. As you can no doubt imagine, the likelihood of this conflict spilling over is but a stray shot away."

"I understand your concerns sir, but spillover is simply very unlikely. The majority of the Imperial Guard that remains is located in London preparing for our incoming assault; in addition, they have a singular formation in Manchester attempting to take the city from pro-government forces there. All army units along the Scottish border remain loyal to the Banjamosi Army command, and we've been in contact with them to lock down any spillover attempts. As to the nuclear question, I can't share precise numbers but we have confirmed and secured their full arsenal."

"How are we to know," the Emperor continued, "that there are not units still disloyal just waiting for their moment to strike? There could be additional units hiding, just waiting. We can't know and that's a very real concern. At present, we're on one of the highest states of alert. You must convey this to your own military command and to the men on the ground that should we detect any attack whatsoever coming or directed at or near Layartebian or Cottish interests we're going to have to react because we simply do not know."

"Sir, I know it isn't the perfect answer but I think you best of all understand that situations like these can be very fluid and very fast. Both my government and the Banjamosi are working overtime to ensure this situation reaches a conclusion quickly, and we are covering our bases. While I wish I could tell you that A, B, C, D, and all the way to Z minor was covered, I feel like that still may not assuage your concerns. So, I must insist you take me at my word, that both the process is working, and that there will be absolutely no spillover. To speak plainly, they have no naval assets in their sphere, the ground units they do possess I've already told you where they are, and the air units they did have were all dismantled by the Ark Royal. So, the chance of them sprinting to Scotland or getting to Ireland is very low, on the border of impossible."

The Emperor didn't like what he was hearing but at the same time, he didn't have much else to go on and would have to take the ambassador at his word for lack of any other alternative. "Mister Ambassador, we'll take you at your word but we will make sure that we have ourselves ready. We'll keep our high state of alert. You will notice additional activity on the Isle of Man, this is part of our defensive strategy. If we have to react we will and if we detect an imminent threat we reserve the right to act pre-eminently."

"That is your right, but I doubt and hope it won't come to that. I will be in contact with your office as soon as I get more information to ensure the most transparent communication to prevent any un-needed tragedies."

There was nothing more to be said of the conversation and it ended with the Emperor returning back to the War Room where nothing had changed in the time it had taken him to return to his office, have his conversation with Ambassador Lebel, and return. He looked to Chairman-General Barnes and in a plain way asked, "Where do we stand?"

"Delta and Ghost Recon are en route from Fort Bragg right now and we have the 3rd Special Forces Group activated in Ireland. They're going to move to the Isle of Man along with an aviation unit. We're not going to get much of the 11th SOG or the 12th SOG over there very quickly so we're going to run with army units for the time until we get a squadron or two there. On the flight over Delta and Ghost Recon are going to go over the intel on what we know concerning Bajamosi nuclear stores sir."

"I want us at MILCON Level Three."

"Yes sir we believe the upgrade is warranted."

"While I don't think the Dutch are going to allow this situation to spillover we can't guarantee that they're fully in control of the situation. Get word to the Cottish that we're upgrading to MILCON Three."

"Yes sir," Chairman-General Barnes picked up a red colored phone almost immediately and began to relay commands and orders to an unseen person on the other end while the Emperor stared at the map showing the limited intelligence on the situation in Britain.

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June 8, 2014 - 13:00 hrs [UTC-5]
North Atlantic Ocean
200 miles NNE of Gander
(50° 42' 0" N, 51° 10' 8" W)

Major Lester Kayne was the command officer of Golf Squadron, 1st Special Operations Group, Delta Force. He'd risen to the coveted squadron commander position through a lot of hard work and a lot of door kicking. He'd joined Delta as a transitional officer, which meant he had the rank of a first lieutenant but the authority of a sergeant. From there he'd earned his right to be a troop executive officer and when he was ready to be promoted to command a troop, he received his promotion to captain. Only when he was ready to lead a squadron was he ready to be a major. That's how it worked with Delta, promotions didn't come because of a date on a calendar, they came because of proficiency and merit.

He was surrounded at the front of the Globemaster III as it flew across the North Atlantic Ocean by his executive officer, Captain Jacob Hensley, and his four troop leaders: CPT Wayne Adams, CPT Paul Binder, CPT Donald Kline, and CPT Cody Vang. The first three commanded each of the three assault troops which focused on air, land, or sea insertions while CPT Vang was the leader of the recon troop. "Our closest threat is Valley Air Force Base," he said loudly into the closed circuit intercom that allowed him to communicate with his troop leaders. "It's located on Anglesey and it's confirmed to have nuclear ordinance. We have the sat imagery with the shelters marked. The Banjamosi military is using the same shelters that the Goodrule Third Spanish States used so we've had enough time to draw up a plan. Work with your teams, this is a full squadron effort and we won't be alone either."

"Who's coming with us?" Kline asked as he took the photographs from the stacks that Hensley was handing around to them.

"An entire paratrooper brigade for starters followed by an entire air cavalry brigade, both from the 27th Airborne. There's also the 37th Marine Division spinning up too."

"Plenty of firepower," Binder said with a smile though he hated working with conventional forces not so much because he preferred the "go it alone" mantra of special forces but rather because conventional army officers tended to be too "by the book" for him. He'd already had one operation shit canned because some battalion lieutenant colonel didn't like the looks of a crossroads junction. In truth, said lieutenant colonel was a bit too afraid to take any risks and it cost Binder an op that would have been a slam dunk otherwise.

"Take these back and work it out with your teams. We'll hit the airport in this fashion: Wayne you've got the bunkers in the southeastern sector, Paul you have the bunkers in the western sector, Donald you and your team will stay with Cody's team and work security on the main base area here in the north. Air support will be on station from the army with attack helicopters and the air force with strike fighters. We land in," he checked his watch, "a little over four hours so go over the intel and when we land we're going to walk through it."