New Olwe under attack!

[Joyous Zeltros]

"We have everything we need," Thurien told him.

They carried a startling and brutal selection of weapons, ranged and otherwise. The youngest, Milika, twenty-two, was heavily laden with grenades and other explosive devices. The oldest, Artem, forty-five, bore a pair of truly vicious serrated swords.

"Except for me," Uniisa put in. "Got anything I can fly?" She gave Milos a winsome smile. "I'll be death from above on behalf of your people."

[New Olwe]

Milos turned to an aide behind him. "Call Aerospace. See if they have any X-84s that aren't currently in use." The aide nodded, called it in on the radio and got a prompt response.
"They've got eight of them just laying around, sir," the aide said. "At Reiff Airbase."
"Reiff Airbase is all the way... oh, never mind. I'll take her over there." Milos turned to Uniisa and offered her his arm. "Have you ever teleported before?" he asked her.

[The Ambrose Islands]

Location: The Great Sea Battle

"HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE DOES IT TAKE TO CLOSE TO THAT VAKUSHKA SHIP!?" The Admiral roared. It was taking too long, and they were getting annoyed.
"We're having to move slowly sir," the helmsman replied, "to avoid hitting the Olwean ships and the remainder of our own fleet." Her uneasiness had turned into fear. This is NOT Admiral Furoi, she thought. Combat devotion was one thing, but this was textbook obsession.
"Rip through them," the Admiral ordered, "Just get us to our prize."
The helmsman jerked her head around so fast that she almost got whiplash. "WHAT!?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing! "Need I remind you that they're on OUR side!?" This wasn't obsession, this was madness!
"THEY DON'T MATTER! ONLY THE PRIZE MATTERS! NOW FOLLOW MY ORDER OR I'LL FIND SOMEONE WHO WILL!"

The young lieutenant's doubts were just put to rest. There was no doubt about it now, the Admiral was crazy. There's only one thing to do, she thought, and my career is SO over for it. She looked at the gunnery officer who, after inputting something on his console, shot the same look right back. Apparently, he was thinking the same thing too.

She then took a deep breath, then took a sidearm from under her console, and pointed it at the now furious looking Admiral. "No you won't sir," her voice took on a more formal tone, "In adherance to official rules and regulations set down in Article 36-1A of the Naval Code of Conduct, I, Lieutenant Yvaiine Andreka, next-senior officer on the bridge of the RAV Santorius, hereby declare you, Admiral David Furoi, mentally unfit to captain this vessel. I'm sorry sir, but you are relieved of command."
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Location: Lehman Beach

Gvarog was in pain, a lot of it. Though he was heavily armoured, that grenade had taken it's toll on him, not to mention that it had killed his rider, General Rahme, and that Olwean. All that was left of the Ambrosian forces were the dragons, and even they were being pushed back. The enemy found their weakness, low armour at the neck, and were now fully exploiting it. Gvarog was an old even by draconic standards. He had fought many battle and challenged many enemies, but none as strong as these so-called Nicksylvanians. He was getting pressed down, and he was quite sure that this beach would become his tomb.

His ears heard a deafening sound, and he felt a sharp, intense pain. Someone shot him with something. Something big. Whoever did it was a fantastic shot; the slug had found home in his spine, thereby severing it and sending him down to the ground. As he lay there, managed to use the last of his energy to shift his head so as to get a fleeting glimpse at his killer. He saw a man in a regal uniform, holding a massive rifle with a triumphant expression on his face.

Then he closed his eyes, and Gvarog the Grey passed on.
---------------------------------------

Slarvek watched as the Great Grey Wyrm fell to the ground. He then looked out at the advancing troops. I'll join you soon father, he thought, then we will fly in the Great Skies together with our brothers and sisters. He watched as his kin finally succumbed to the massive firepower of the Nicksylvanians. We underestimated them, Slarvek thought solemnly, and now, this beach will be the epitaph of our race. But we fought to defend. We fought to the last. That will be our proud legacy. And it is a legacy I can die with.

Part of his neck exploded as an RPG slammed into it, but he still stood. As a last gasp, he reared his head and threw it forward, issuing one final blast of acid onto the Nicksylvanian troops. A second RPG then found home with the first, blowing the neck apart completely. The draconic corpse then fell to the ground, sending a tremor through the beach at it landed.

Slarvek was dead. The enemy had won. The Grey Dragons were no more.
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Location: Reiff Airbase

While Altere and her group had taken off, Vernious and the rest of the Dragon Corps. stayed behind. There was no talking, no telepathy, only silence as the riders mourned their loss. The Grey Dragons, the oldest of the dragons, were gone. Never would their calls be heard through the canyons. Never would their songs be heard on the wind. They chose to go to battle. They probably knew they were going to their doom. But for them their death was a good death, a proud death. A death in battle to the last.

Lord Vernious looked at Kraiil, who then looked at the others. And in time-honoured tradition, the dragons at Reiff Airbase spread their wings......and sang.

[Antivictoria]

Captain Mark Hansen sensed a very real threat....depth charges. Shit! Karn Evil Nine was depth-charging him! Sure enough, several explosions rocked the Damian Martin, and just minutes, all hope was lost for its survival. Only one choice: find a life boat and scuttle the ship, trusting to the unpredictable waves of the sea.

An hour later, a mere dozen survivors on life boats watched the complete ruin of their once might submarine, while they hoped to find refuge on a friendly vessel.

[Antivictoria]

Captain Armin Stern of the IUS Allen Martin, a powerful AEGIS cruiser with the most modern and sophisticated weaponry, soon rescued the survivors from the Damian Martin. He immediately left them in the hands of his medical crew and took command of the Antivictorian flotilla. Several ship-to-ship missiles were suddenly launched at Karn Evil Nine, the skipper trusting to his luck to ensure that the birds would strike their prey. Well, that and some gray magic, of course. He was a warlock as well as a senior naval officer.

As soon as those weapons were used, he ordered his guns to fire at the enemy as well. The ship's batteries were prepared for this situation, and well-supplied with munitions.

[New Othman]

The NOS Ataturk, a missile boat, has launched its torpedoes at Karn Evil Nine, while its captain, Commander Ismet Faruk, is preparing for a very real contingency: chemical warfare in the form of submarine-launched ballistic missiles with nerve gas warheads. Sarin, to be precise. A taste of this would inflict real terror on the enemy, and they might think twice about invading New Othman's allies in the future.

[Joyous Zeltros]

Uniisa hooked her arm around Milos', shifting rather closer than decorum in most nations would decree. Maroon eyes half-veiled by long lashes, she almost purred, "No, but I'm sure it'll go well in your hands."

The Zeltron pilot, twenty-six and of very athletic build, had always had a fondness for travel... almost as significantly as her fondness for a number of more traditional pursuits. The trait that had seen her encouraged to leave, however, was the way in which she took clearly perceptible pleasure in soaring through the skies and delivering death. This wouldn't have been a problem, if it hadn't crept into her life on the ground, starting fights to enjoy causing pain, and becoming a potential danger to herself and the mental peace of others.

[The Ambrose Islands]

Location: Olwean Airspace

<This is the High Commander of the Olwean Aerospace Corps.> Kara heard over her comm, < I need you to make sure you really vaporize these guys. Their commander's a necromancer, and we don't want whatever's left of the pilots you shoot down getting up and walking around down there.>
<Copy that.> She then routed through to the F-16s <Alright Knights, you heard her. I don't want any part of those ships to touch the ground. Knights 3 and 4, run point with me. Knight 2, take Bob Group. See if you can split that line. Chocolate Group, swing around and under. Take that back rank by surprise. Break formation on my command.>

What ever childish awkwardness Kara Altere had was left on the ground. She was in her element now, and she was going to show these clownies why the Queen personally hand-picked her to lead the Ambrosian Aerial Corps.

<Alfie, Bob, check left. Chocolate, check right. Ready, Knights....Engage!>

[Narodna Odbrana]

A single crow came hurtling out of the House of Lore; it fluttered to the ground in front of Nadia and squawked loudly.

“Tell him,” she replied, “That I’ll be right there.” The crow took flight and hurtled back into the building.

“Communicator,” Nadia said again to one of the nearby gypsy horsemen, holding out her hand in anticipation; he snapped it off his coat and handed it to her. She keyed it and spoke swiftly.

“Captain Rainer,” Nadia said once more.

“Go ahead, Commander,” the voice replied. The Serbian woman nearly swore.

“The teleforce device has been activated,” she said. “You have less than three minutes to get out of its range. Head for Arman’s position and back him up with the rest of our spiders.”

“Sounds fun,” the person on the other end replied.

Nadia lost it. “And no more Starcraft references, do you hear me?!?”

“Look, commander, do you mind?” an irritated voice shot back. Then, almost inaudibly, it said: “I knew I should've stayed in bed this morning.”

“You get off on annoying people, don't you?” Nadia replied angrily. “You may have time to play games,” she spat back venemously, “But I've got a job to do.”

“Doesn't look like I have much choice.” the voice on the other end lamented.

Nadia howled in fury, snapped off the communicator, and thrust back into its owner’s waiting hand. “Temzin!” she snarled. Another Tcho-Tcho scurried up in response to her command.

“Stay close by me,” the Serbian woman commanded, “I will have need for you shortly.” The shaman nodded.

“Anil!” she called to another shaman, who hustled up. “Take twenty of your people, including at least five shamans, and move towards the beach. All the rest will stay with me.” Anil bowed deeply and, gabbling orders to the other Tcho-Tchos, scurried off.

Turning to the gypsy who had called himself Harman, she said: “I will need of twenty of your men to stay with me; the rest are to form a screen in the direction of the oncoming clowns. Delay them as long as possible, then have a few of your men flee with the horses while the rest fall back into the House of Lore.” Harman bowed slightly and, calling orders out to his men in Romanes, galloped off in the direction of the approaching forces from Karn Evil Nine.

Raising her arms, Nadia threw her head back and closed her eyes. Above her, the swirling cloud of bats flattened out into a torus, circling the site at high altitude. Then, breaking the trance to look down at the Tcho-Tchos standing about her feet, she said: “Come!”

And with that, she strode off towards the entrance to the House of Lore.

[New Olwe]

Milos made a mental note to look this Zeltron woman up when the fighting was over... distracting her now probably wouldn't do, but she was making her interest pretty obvious and he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity like that. He and Uniisa vanished into thin air, then reappeared at Reiff Airbase. He walked up to the first person he saw, a young Staff Sergeant, and said, "I need to borrow your radio." The Minister of Foreign Affairs was a recognizable face... the Sergeant handed his radio over without protest.
Milos spoke into it: "Lyona, this is Milos. I've got a Zeltron woman coming up to help Aurora. She'll be in an X-84... mark her as a friendly so that nobody on our side shoots her down, okay?" He got an affirmative, handed the Sergeant back his radio, then walked over to the plane that Uniisa was going to be flying. "If you need a quick tutorial, I'm a trained pilot in addition to my diplomatic duties," he said. "I know sometimes the controls are different on foreign planes, so look around and let me know whether you think you can figure this thing out for yourself." He could tell her everything she needed to know in maybe a minute, if she did indeed need his help... otherwise she could just take off.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Coming into range in five... four... three... two... fire!" Aurora said as the Karn Evil Nine fighters came within range of her guns. She vaped one, missed another and couldn't tell whether she might have nicked a third. Within a minute, her second target was on her tail and she was going evasive.

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Jason disembarked from the coach, thanked the coachman and vanished into the thick forest in a matter of seconds. The dark purple outfit he wore actually aided him in camouflaging himself at night, and he managed to completely sneak up on the first enemy he encountered. As he was cleaning his sword, a second enemy burst from the trees and took a shot at him... Jason whipped the sword up, deflecting the bullet into a nearby tree, then dove into the brush and disappeared.

[The Ambrose Islands]

Location: Olwean Airspace

<Knight 3, Lock on, Box 3, Fire>
Kara saw a sidewinder fly from just over her left wing and hit an oncoming fighter, which disappeared into a ball of flame.
<Good shot,> she said over the comm, <but loosen up. That almost hit me.>
<Copy that. Sorry.>
Her wingmen fell back and out just slightly, allowing them room to maneuver. Just then an explosion to Kara's right confirmed Knight 4's demise.

<Evasive maneuvers!> And with that the two Knights split formation, Kara flanking right. One of the enemy aircraft followed her, drawing in close for a shot. Why is he so frakkin' close? she wondered, and then it it her. Stealth! His missles can't lock on so he's got to use guns! Kara smiled; she could use this to her advantage. She rose up, using the black of the night help camoflauge her, but not accelerating so as to just keep ahead of him. Once she was where she wanted, she made her move.

"Let's play chicken"

She then snapped back the throttle, nudged the stick, snapped back up, hit the burn, and pulled the trigger. The advanced fighter did exactly what she wanted it to. It slowed down immensely and dropped a couple of feet, slipping under the Karn Evil Nine plane as he swerved to avoid her. It then rose back up behind the enemy and sent two green sparks at the clowny, completely vaporizing him in a ball of flame.

She then got back on the radio as she flew back towards the main force, <Boys, I think we've got a new production fighter.>

[OOC: I actually had a former F-18 pilot teach me how to do that move. It's scary but cool as hell]

[Joyous Zeltros]

Uniisa gave the controls a cursory examination. "I think," she said, "I had best take advantage of your experience." She flashed him a quick grin. "An explanation would be welcomed, just in case."

Once she knew exactly how this fine bit of shaped metal differed from others, she could get to the fun part... using it in a fight.

[The Ambrose Islands]

Location: Embassy Row

Ambassador Alexandra Grey sat in her chair, whiskey in hand. Half the bottle was gone already but, seeing as how Ambrosian women had 4x the alchohol tolerance of Ambrosian men, she was dead sober. A lot of people died today, she thought, but many didn't have to. As she was contemplating, a soldier walked into the room and the gave her a salute.
"What are you're orders sir?" the soldier said.
Alex look at him in a puzzled manner, "What do you mean 'what are my orders'?"
The soldier shifted his position, "Well, you are next in the chain of command sir."
Sad thing is, he's right, she thought, with Rahme dead, I'm next in line. Ambrosian ambassadors were chosen from the military's Diplomatic Corps. In peacetime, they were civilians but, in wartime, they automatically held the rank of colonel.
She took a deep breath, "How many of our troops are left?"
"150 sir," the soldier replied.
She then thought for a moment. A long moment. At last she took a deep breath and addressed the soldier, "We can't fight these guys hand-to-hand. Lehman Beach taught us that. Get Captain Detmer. We need to try a new approach."
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Location: The Santorius

Lieutenant Yvaiine Andreka's coup didn't quite go as she planned. Fortunately, the gunnery officer had locked the weapons controls and only he knew the combination. Unfortunately, what remains of the poor ensign's brain is currently being cleaned off of the bridge wall and Yvaiine was on her way to the stern deck for execution. She was positioned in front of the railing and read the charges by the head squad officer:
"Lieutenant Yvaiine Alvora Andreka, you have been charged with conspiracy to commit mutiny, conspiracy to commit murder, assault, attemped battery, treason, willful negligence, and dereliction of duty. Do you deny these charges?"
Yvaiine took a deep breath, "No."
"You are aware the these charges carry the penalty of death?"
"Yes."
"And you still wish to confirm that on this night in question that you did in fact willingly commit an act of treason on the commanding officer of this vessel?"
Yvaiine was shivering now, "Y-yes"
"Very well. MEN! MAKE READY!"
The squad's rifles snapped up in unison. Yvaiine closed her eyes as she hear their rounds chamber.
"MAKE AIM!"
A tear ran down Yvaiine's cheek.
"FIRE!"
BA-BLAM!
Yvaiine heard the near-deafening shot as they fired their rifles.
And missed.
And missed?

Yvaiine opened her eyes. Sure enough, the firing squad's rifles were angled about sixty degrees higher than what they needed to be. Every one of the squad members, including the commander, had a smile on their faces.
"Sorry about the drama," said the commander, "but they had to buy it up on the bridge."
"B-b-bu-but, why-," the ex-helmsman stammered
"Let's just say that you're not the only one who's noticed that Admiral Furoi's not himself," the commander replied, "truth be told, you did the right thing, but in the wrong way. You were too direct. You need a new approach, and there's not much time."

[Narodna Odbrana]

As darkness fell, an unnatural chill crept across Lehman Beach. With the cold came a mist, which swiftly thickened into a pea-soup fog.

Then the howling came.

Even though the ground was obscured in a blanket of impenetrable gray, the moon hung high overhead, unnaturally large, unnaturally bright, with a ring around it from the vapour in the air. Full and eerie, it called to canines across New Olwe, and canines across New Olwe called back, yipping, yapping, barking, baying, crying, and howling in an anthem as old as Time itself.

And then they came.

Not the wolves – not first, anyway. No, first was the scurrying, first subtle, then pervasive. Beyond the fog the world was moving, invisibly but very audibly. Rustling and scurrying, interspersed with occasional squeaking.

Rats.

Then can a rushing, a flapping, a whirring of wings. A torrent of black shapes broke from the fog directly onto the Nickie lines. Beaks, claws, and feathered wings struck, buffeted, scratched, and pecked at the men from everywhere as murders of crows shot through their ranks like bullets, cawing, screeching, wheeling, and attacking with a frenzy that would have made Alfred Hitchcock proud.

This was not the attack Nadia had planned, however; it was part of the attack, for what was to follow was an exercise in the use of combined arms tactics, albeit of a most macabre sort.

Just seconds after the crows struck, mischief after mischief rats poured across the Nickies like a furry grey tide. Leaping, climbing, claing, and biting, they ran up men’s legs and hit them where it counted. With the crows pecking at the enemies’ eyes and the rats snapping at their balls, it seemed as though the invaders were being given a choice: Which pair would you rather keep?

The crows moved too fast to present a good target for aimed fire; the rats were too many for even automatic weapons fire to matter. But this was only the beginning; what would come next could be aimed at and shot quite nicely.

Unfortunately, the shots wouldn’t matter unless the Nickies had decided to arm their soldiers with very expensive ammunition. Not lead bullets in brass casings, mind you, but silver bullets - hard currency out the barrel of a gun.

The werewolves led the charge, striking the enemy lines with ravening snarls. They aimed to wound, not to kill, and to draw as much useless fire from an enemy who clearly wasn’t going to have invested its central bank’s reserves in its soldiers’ magazines in expectation of this. Behind each werewolf came a pack of half a dozen ordinary wolves – if these large, motorcycle-sized timber wolves could be described by such a plain word as “ordinary”. There were several such packs in a rout, and several routs involved in the assault. Behind the first wave, Arman – the werewolf in command of this attack – had positioned a second, his orders being to exploit success and bypass failure, penetrating as deeply into the Nickies’ position as possible, leaving fear, pain, confusion, and – most importantly of all – infected wounds throughout the ranks of the enemy army.

---

In a swirl of skirts and shawls, Nadia entered the long hall at the same moment as Medwyn arrived at its opposite end, an entourage of dismounted Gypsies and misshapen Tcho-Tcho tribesmen accompanying her.

She stopped and smiled. “Greetings,” she said in her distinctive South Slavic accent. “You are Medwyn, I presume?”

[New Othman]

Per the request of new olwe we will replace the sarin chemical warhead with conventional ones but we hereby issue this ultimatum to the enemy: sue for peace or the ataturk will launch its missiles.

[The Ambrose Islands]

Location: Reiff Airbase

Lord Vernious gazed up at the aerial battle occurring far above. The dragons had finished their song and were prepping for battle. {We are ready Vernious,} thought Kraiil, {all we need is you're order.}
Verious thought to himself for a moment, {Send all thirty of the Blues and twenty of the Reds. Marenne is in command. Keep the other fifty Reds back.}
{Understood,} the Elder Red Dragon replied
There was no need to second-guess. Vernious knew Kraiil long enough to know that the Dragon felt exactly as he did.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

[Antivictoria]

Captain stern now ordered the launching of the cruise missiles against the nicky beachhead hoping to break it up.

[Dekerin Domains]

The Lord Parlas, a destroyer with the newest tech is now firing its artillery against the Nicky beachhead. Meanwhile Dekerin troops strike with stinger missiles against the Nicky aircraft. The Dekerin air force uses Falcon fighters and Hawk dive bombers to raid the beachhead as well. And the new Frost tanks (named after guess who) are assaulting the enemy perimeter.

[New Olwe]

(Wow. I miss one day and the thread goes batshit insane... )

Roland Wansor turned as an officer from the beach entered the situation room. The Nickies had mostly withdrawn, and it was time for Roland's least favorite part of this... the casualty report.
"Who's next in the chain of command?" he asked when he was informed of General Neilan's death.
"Major O'Neill, sir," the young lieutenant replied. "But he's wounded -- missing eye -- and they're not letting him take command. It's Captain Zimmer who's actually in charge down there. He's pulled the men off the beach and into the rainforest, and looks prepared to turn this into a guerrilla operation."
"There's no doubt he'd be well-suited to direct such an operation, but we don't want this to move any closer to the city," Roland said. "Get down there and take command, Magnus." Roland's younger brother, the High General of the Olwean forces, nodded and left the room.
"How many men did we lose in all?" Roland asked.
"13,367. But that's including people from sunken ships who haven't reported in yet, and we still have unrecovered lifeboats out there."
"Our top priority right now is recovering those lifeboats," Roland told the lieutenant. "Then we reestablish the chain of command, where it's been broken. Then we'll be ready to fight again tomorrow. Where are we still being engaged, currently?"
"Karn Evil Nine's fighters are still attacking Reiff Airbase, sir. Other than that things appear to be quieting down for the night, aside from some last-minute movement by our allies in a presumed attempt to ease coordination of our side's forces."
"Invite their commanders to the situation room for a joint command meeting," Roland suggested. "We want to involve them in our strategy. That's all for now. Dismissed."
The lieutenant nodded and left.
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"Yes," Medwyn said, switching to Serbian when he heard Nadia's accent. "Pleased to meet you. If there is anything in particular you need help with, let me know." There were certain requests Medwyn would absolutely deny, but he was willing to meet most of Nadia's needs as long as she didn't ask for particularly dangerous items. The Ark of the Covenant, for example, was bloody well staying right where it was.

[Karn Evil Nine]

"Report," Aratar said as the shoreline came into view.
"Our fighters have taken heavy losses, but twenty have gotten past the enemy line and are making a run at the control tower. Frost's daughter is still alive and in pursuit."
"Good," Aratar said. "They can shoot her down when they're done blowing up the tower. What of our ships?"
"We've lost Death's Head and Blood Lust is taking on water. The other ships are still operational and operating per your orders."
"Good," Aratar said as the Leshrac reached the beach. "Send our escort vessels into the fray. Creel, take command of the ground forces. I will only need a dozen Elite Guards." He twirled a unique staff-like weapon -- a long stick of metal with a tapering, sword-like blade at one end and an axe-head that bloomed flower-like into multiple blades at the other -- in a flourish before disembarking from the vessel.

(OOC: Will update again with both KE9 and New Olwe later. Yes, Aratar's fighting style is remarkably like Darth Maul's.)

[The Ambrose Islands]

Location: Olwean Airspace

BOOM!
Kara swerved to avoid the wreckage of the fighter she just destroyed. Frak! Didn't hit it right, she thought. It wasn't going to fly anymore, but she didn't destroy it completely. Now the hulk was plummeting down to earth.
<Enemy fighters have broken off from the main group,> Kara heard over the comm, <about twenty in all. Commander Frost and some of the other Olweans are in pursuit. Should we pursue as well?>

Kara thought for a moment as her lasers (OOC: for lack of a better word) ripped through another fighter. <Negative,> she replied, <Frost's birds can handle themselves.> After all, she thought, these guys are a lot easier I expected. She began to feel a chill run down her spine. They WERE a lot easier than she expected, which meant one of two things. Either they were truly inept (which Kara refused to believe), or....

Kara was pulled back into the real world as a line of rounds narrowly missed her. Her daydreaming allowed a clownie to get on her tail, and she took evasive action.
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Embassy Row was a bustle of activity. It was so busy that no one had noticed the black-clad man standing just outside the embassy of the Ambrose Islands. His agent was doing their work beautifully, and it was only a matter of time before the Olwean allies were in such a state of utter confusion, Queen Camilla herself would have to intervene. Then he would have his chance. His ominous face was now painted with a grim smile of satifaction at the thought of making the young queen scream for mercy. Before this war was over, he would have his prize. She thought she destroyed him and his brethren at the Skyhook. She was wrong. Dead wrong. And now she would pay dearly.

He took a final draw off of his cigarette, then curled his tongue around the remains, pulled it into his mouth, and swallowed. He then took a deep breath, exhaled, and silently spoke to himself.

"Hello Cammy. I'm Back."

[Draconia Magna]

The Leonidas is joined by the Brasidas, a powerful cruiser equipped with full artillery, anti-ship missiles, and 5 cruise missiles. Of which, the artillery has already begun to bombard the coastal encampments of the Nicky occupation forces.

[Provisional America]

The USS Simon Lomax, a very sophisticated battleship with heavy artillery and anti-ship missiles, has arrived in New Olwe's territorial waters, fully prepared to bombard the enemy. There are also 15 cruise missiles on board, a very nasty surprise for the enemy. Captain Adrian Simms is at the helm.

[Doraland]

Troops from the elite Special Action Corps have been deployed, with very distinct purposes....sabotage, terrorism, infiltration, espionage, etc. They begin operating among the Nickies. They are so secret that their numbers and the name of their commander are secret.

[New Olwe]

After Milos was reasonably certain that Uniisa knew how to maneuver the X-84, he went on to explain its weapons systems. These were more simple and intuitive, and wouldn't require as much instruction. Just tell her which buttons to push to fire her guns, and then make sure she knew that the first push of the missile button only armed the missile -- she would need to push it again to actually launch it. He was pleased to note that her pretty face seemed free of confusion or frustration... this meant she probably got what he was telling her. "Think you can fly this thing now?" he asked her.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aurora had managed to avoid several near misses from the persistent enemy fighter on her tail. Who is this clown? she thought, then nearly laughed out loud as she remembered what country the enemy was from.
Suddenly, there was an explosion behind her. She checked, and sure enough her tail was clear. "Who do I have to thank for that?" she asked.
"Corporal Fonte, Lady High Commander," the young male voice said.
"Corporal Jake Fonte?" Aurora asked. She had never met the man, but she had heard of him... six kills on his first mission, four on the next one, promotion to Corporal shortly thereafter. With three more kills against the Nickies during the naval battle and one in this mission, he was piling them up like he was going for a world record or something.
"One and the same," he confirmed. "Nice to finally meet you. Well, you know what I mean."
"Likewise," Aurora replied. "Listen, I could use a wingman if you don't have one already."
"It would be an honor, my lady."
Aurora noted that about twenty of the enemy fighters had gotten past the Olwean formation and were making a run on the tower. She pointed them out to Jake and said, "Let's get them."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jason led the man who had shot at him earlier on a merry chase through the forest. Eventually he found what he was looking for... a carnivorous plant. There were several species of these native to New Olwe, and he seriously doubted that the invaders had taken the time to learn about the local wildlife. He used magic to aid him in leaping up out of the plant's reach, grabbed hold of a low branch and disappeared into the forest canopy. Below, he heard the Nicksyllvanian soldier's screams as he suddenly found himself being eaten by a bush.