Napadenie [Closed]

[Kaligula]

OOC: Which map are you using? On the old "world" map, Oslo and Bergen were Laviy. Furthermore, Oslo is at the end of a 100km long fjord.

The new map, and Laviy is on a different continent. I am just trying to identify the area I'm at. Your right, I and made an error about Oslo, thanks for pointing that out. I'll be changing Oslo to Stavanger immediately.

[Prizyetsa]

University of Sinnøy, Kierra Campus Hall, Kierra, Sinnøy, E.P.T.

“Ladies and gentlemen, have a seat please.” The admiral called out into the large lecture hall as he walked onto the podium. The wall being him was lit with a detailed map of Iceland, marked with dozens of towns, as well as strategic locations, each with their own symbols. As he reached the center of the podium, he turned to the hundred or so officers seated in the large lecture hall of the University of Sinnøy’s Kierra campus. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Iceland as most of you should know. Another thing all of you should know is why you are here. Within the next twelve hours, the invasion of Sovietyeto will begin with these islands right here.” The admiral cleared his throat. “Excuse me.” He apologized to the myriad of officers watching him. “As you can see, we are in the company of officers of the Air Mobile Division (OOC: AMD). They will be the ones leading the invasion due to their quickness and ease of deployment. I’ll give the floor to commander Rolandson of the Second AMD. Comander.” A tall, well composed woman stood up and straightened out her uniform coat. Rolandson was a tall attractive woman in her mid-thirties, with a scar barely visible across the side of her neck. Her uniform was neatly pressed and worn according to regulation, albeit a bit loose around the edges. Her red beret hung loosely from her shoulder tab. “Good morning. As the commander of the AMD involved in this mission, I’ll be leading in the first ground forces. I will explain the course of action, then I’ll answer any questions you may have. The second AMD will land dispersed throughout a small are in the North of Iceland, approximately from Siglufjördur down to Dalvik. The area should be lightly defended, since there isn’t anything up there, but it should be something along the lines of kicking the hornet’s nest, attracting what little Soviet prescence there is on the island to come to us up North. We have APCs, IFVs, light tanks and light artillery to our disposal, so we should be able to hold out along with what air cover can be provided by rear-admiral Skoll and his carrier group. Likewise, I expect to be able to call in missile strikes if needed. Are there any questions?” There were none. “Good. The second AMD consists of five battalions, each around six to seven hundred men, plus vehicles and equipment. The first AMB will be dropped six kilometers east of Siglufjördur, along with the second AMSA battalion, and capture the city. Naval infantry will come in two days later to hold the city permenantly, unless they can get there earlier, which would be nice. The second AMD Battalion will land south of Siglufjördur, closer to Olavsfjördour, another small town about fifteen kilometers south. They will land alone, and secure the town. Again, there shouldn’t be any resistance, since Reykjavik is in the south west. Finally, the third AMD battalion together with the first AMA will land outside of Dalvik, to the north to be exact. From there they will take the town and hold it against the Soviet counterattack which we expect will come within twenty-four hours of our landing. Any questions?” Again, the hall was silent, apart from the sound of officers scribbling down details into notepads. “Lovely. Admiral, the podium is all yours.” She said, saluting and stepping down re-taking her seat. The admiral took the podium again. “Thank you, commander Ronaldson. Ladies and gentlemen, now for phase two, the naval infantry landings. Four different sites will be hit at the same time, ensuring total surprise. The sites will be Eskilfjördur in the east, Vik in the South, Keflavik, which is right outside of Reykjavik itself and finally Helgafjell in the West. A majority of the armor will be deployed in the west, while infantry do most of the work. It will be straight forward, take your allocated targets and then move inland. Take prisoners where possible, but do not hesitate to kill if necessary. If prisoners are taken, treat them with dignity. Just because the enemy won’t do the same for us doesn’t mean that we must act like barbarians too. Oh, before I forget, the whole operation will be covered by our AEW&C jammers, courtesy of the air force. Any questions?” The admiral looked out over the hall. “Good. Hup, hei, marini!” he shouted, and everyone in the room except for the AMD personnel shot up and saluted, repeating the chant. The admiral returned the salute and walked off the podium.

It would be the perfect surprise attack.

[Kauvara]

BRIDGE, FLAGSHIP SWORD OF OR'YAN
AIRSPACE JUST SOUTH OF ICELAND OVER THE NORTH ENTAS OCEAN
17:54 HOURS

A Skyfleet watchwoman looks to the sun set as
her vessel sails through the sea of clouds

The large bridge was lit with a brilliant orange as the sun began to set on the horizon, casting a deep glow across the sea of clouds. The commotion had died down somewhat, as the twenty-one vessels and their support craft were assembled for the First Expeditionary Force, with the bustle of getting so much to move as one finally finished. The metal monsters glided through the clouds. The Sword of Or'yan and the battleships Clades and Lumen seemed to be wreathed in clouds, their decks above and their keels below. Some, like the Telum-class corvettes, were completely obscured, their forms darting in and out of the clouds like dolphins around the other ships as they cleaved through.

Tens of thousands of men and women tended their duties within the crafts, from the ten in the tiniest corvettes to the multiple thousands in the massive Sword of Or'yan itself. In fact, there were currently 10,600 people aboard the flagship, with 5,600 crew and 5,000 Marines of the 16th Coalition Infantry, specially mobilized for this operation, alongside the 13th-15th Coalition Infantry. Rumors also circulated that the power-armored behemoths of the 2nd Specialized were coming as well, their suits specially-adapted for the radiation work. However, among those people, at least on the Sword of Or'yan, were the Emperor himself, Aleksandr Or'yan, the ex-Imperator of Vulpes (and Or'yan's surrogate father) Gaius Kauvus, and the Director-General of the Skyfleet, Michael Raines. The three of them overlooked the bridge from a trio of command chairs, although they were rarely occupied. Raines was constantly relaying orders to his bridge staff personally. Not to mention, Or'yan was never one to lead from the rear, and Kauvus was never one to leave Or'yan. The trio moved about the bridge, observing and ordering.

Raines speaks to Or'yan

"Director Raines, a word, please?" Or'yan called out as he looked across the orange cloud banks, Kauvus at his side.
"And just make sure to keep those scanners going," Raines said to one of the bridge crew, before turning and walking up to Or'yan, bowing deeply. "My lord, what do you require?"
"Ah, Raines, get up," Or'yan said, laughing. "I'm not one to have my elders bow before me." While Raines was the youngest Director-General in history at the age of only 28, Or'yan was even younger. "So, please, let's not make me any more uncomfortable than I already am on a ship named after my sword, eh?"
"Of course, your majesty," Raines replied. "Now, was there something you required?"
"Ah, yes! If I know my geography-" Of course he did; Or'yan was a renowned historian and anthropologist, famous for knowing much about the world, as well as the xeno-studies of the same "-then we are about to pass by 'Iceland,' correct?"
"Yes, my lord. We are about one hour away."
"A curious name, 'Iceland.' Rather... uncreative, if you ask me. In any case, are we not tense with the Sovietyetans? Our allies, the Prizyetsi, seem Wolf-bent on atta-" Again, he was interrupted as Kauvus leaned in and whispered to him. "Yes, of course... Ah, nothing, of course! Raines, please keep us moving forward. Do not deviate course unless we are attacked. Understood?"
"But, your majesty, that will bring us into range of their positions. An exchange of fire may occur!"
"I understand that, Raines. If the Sovietyetans wish to stop us, then they are welcome to try. However, the CDSP needs these supplies, and we cannot leave them waiting. On our present course, we will reach them in 24 hours. Not to mention, but I have utmost confidence in both your ability, and the ability of this fleet. The Skyfleet is the pride of Kauvara. There is no possible way those Sovietyetan rabble could stop such a symbol of Kauvaran ability and strength! Why, they may chip the paint, but don't worry; the state will cover it." Or'yan winked at Raines, smiling.
"O-of course, my lord!" Raines replied, smiling from ear to ear, himself. "All ahead full, as ordered!"

The Skyfleet moved forward, entering the mutual range of the Sovietyetan weapons on Iceland, as well as the Skyfleet's own guns.


BUNKROOM 8492, HEAVY GUARDIAN CRUISER AURASTYS
AIRSPACE JUST SOUTH OF ICELAND OVER THE NORTH ENTAS OCEAN
19:01 HOURS

The Aurastys scans the clouds

Matthias Gavenson walked along the deck of the Aurastys as it glided through the moonlit sky. Above the clouds, all the stars shown brightly, with the full moon painting the sea of mist a brilliant silvery-white. The cold air chilled Gavenson as he adjusted his red bandana to better cover his neck. He had always worn it, ever since he was a little kid. It never left his side. He had almost lost it when he was working with the IKSF, the brilliant red acting as a major detraction from his camouflage. However, he just hid it under his vest, and managed to keep it with him, the piece of cloth almost acting like a good luck charm. But his mind was far away. The engines glowed brilliantly on the aging vessel, but the fire in his heart was brighter. The soldiers and sailors shouted to each other, but the name in his mind was louder. The wind whipped around him, but the name on his breath was stronger. "I will find you... I cannot wait to see you again..."

"Ili..."


OOC: nothing plot relevant, other than that the Skyfleet is passing by Soviet-held Iceland, and the two are in range of each other. Also, the Skyfleet will reach the CDSP within 24 hours if they are not distracted/held-up at all

[Prizyetsa]

I'm having some technical difficulties, so I'll post tomorrow. Apologies

East District Military Air Station, Sinnøy, E.P.T.

A line of black aircraft stood on the tarmac, illuminating small strips of the flight line with the dim lights coming from within. Slowly, hanger doors opened, unleashing a steady stream of armored vehicles and men carrying large packs. They all ran unto the aircraft as if they were being controlled by a single hive mind of some sort, each doing exactly what he or she was supposed to. Finally after a brief loading, the aft cargo doors of the aircraft shut, killing the last specks of light which illuminated the tarmac. The high pitched whine of jet engines picked up, and the myriad of aircraft made their way to the run way.

Small unmarked aircraft preparing for take off...

Elsewhere on the same complex, four smaller cargo aircraft sat, preparing to take off with their load. Unlike the larger cargo planes, these carried PION operatives, highly specialized agents whose job it was to take any Soviet officials into custody and extract any valuable information from them. They too taxied off towards the run way and waited for their turn to take off.

PPMS Fenix, Battle group “Tær”, North Entas Ocean off the coast of “Iceland”

“Have we located all SAM sites within range of the drop zones?” the rear admiral asked his information relay officer. “Aye sir, drones have spotted 24 sites whose thermal signature matches our template Soviet SAM site. The information has been relayed to arms.” The admiral nodded. “Very well. Where are our aircraft?” The officer changed displays to show a map of the area which dozens of labeled blue triangles with short lines to distinguish their direction and speed. A dotted white line showed the projected path of the holding pattern. “Most of the aircraft are in the air now sir, EDMAS predicts another 4 minutes until they are all on their way.” Again, the rear admiral nodded. “Thank you. Nata, can you fix firing solutions to the intell officer’s points of interest please?” The small blue holographic image flickered to life and bowed as if she was wearing a ballroom dress. “Yes rear admiral. May I remind you sir, that your candid behavior is not necessary, as artificial intelligence units have no emotions.” The admiral smiled. “You’re a valuable member of our crew too Nata, don’t forget that.” A tint of white ran down her figure as she processed what he said together with the emotional implication of his posture and tone of voice. “Thank you sir, I appreciate it.” She finally said, before flickering off. The rear admiral walked over to the large windows of the bridge to look out at the full red moon, which tonight filled the sky. “A blood moon.” Came a voice from behind him. He turned around to see another rear admiral standing on the bridge with a cup of coffee in her hand. “Indeed. We have them all the time back home.” He answered. She put her cup down and held her arms out. “Hello again old friend!” The two senior officers embraced one another and then took their positions. Nata shimmered to life again. “All aircraft are airborne sir. The best calculated time of arrival at the drop zone is 37 minutes, uncertainties such as headwind and course changes included of course.” The rear admiral sat down in his commander’s chair. “Launch AM missiles at all SAM targets.” A wave of red washed over Nata as she nodded. “Yes sir.”

On the fore-deck of the Fenix, a dozen tube hatches opened up, preparing the VLS system to fire. Back on the bridge, Nata shimmered to life again. “Prepared to fire, sir.” She reported. “Good. Fire.” A dozen streaks of light shot passed the command bridge, flying into the sky only to plummet back down to the sea, pulling up and flying level to the cold grey ocean towards “Iceland”(I’m going to call it Issøy).

[Kommandoria]

Within a field HQ tent in the plaza of Aba Iulia...

High General Antonio de Corleone had just been dropped off moments ago by a V-37 "Antithesis." The other two High Generals, Dimitri Ravashka and Charles O'Bryan, had chosen to remain aboard the R.K.S. Blood Ruby. While commanding from a control room was indeed very practical, Antonio believed nothing beat the experience of commanding at the frontlines. He was deeply disappointed with the state of city's defenses and was furiously making marks all over the map that lay spread across a table. Sandbags? Poorly arranged barricades? No. This simply would not do. KRMA had taught him a great deal of strategies, but this was certainly not one of them. The Kommandorians were vastly outnumbered, and if they were to have any hope of holding out, then changes would have to be made. He called for all NCO's to report to his tent for orders.

Antonio: Gentlemen, I understand our situation is not exactly the most desirable, but that is no excuse for these horrid defenses your men have constructed. I have come up with a far greater, far more acceptable defense plan. We shall create a series of killzones in which we shall slaughter our enemies like the foreign pigs that they are.

The NCO's mumbled amongst themselves, intrigued. After all, this was the High General of Hazard Kompany. He was a master tactician, second only to Klaus von Auberwitz himself.

Antonio: I want these hundreds of wrecked vehicles arranged into barricades. The enemy forces will be forced to gather in these areas in order to attempt an advance. However, I also want all artillery zeroed in on these killzones. As soon as they gather in the killzones, I want them bombarded into submission. It is also very likely that he will try to use bulldozers in order to move the barricades. I will not allow this. I want the 17th Kombat Zeppelin Fleet to hover 30,000 feet directly above the killzones. A few hundred feet above the killzones will be dozens of Switchblades. Any bulldozers will be brought down with airstrikes and whatever troops left alive from the artillery will be finished off by high-altitude bombardment from the Kombat Zeppelins. If the enemy truly outnumbers us, and if their sheer numbers begin to overwhelm us, then the submarine packs will begin lauching missile swarms all over the outskirts of the city. Infantry, particularly snipers and demo troops, will be stationed in the buildings just behind the barricades. From those windows and blown-out walls, they will shatter the enemy's armor and infantry forces. Machine gunners and other infantry will hunker down behind sandbag walls behind the wreckage barricades. This city will become a fortress, and you gentlemen shall be its protectors.

The NCO's chattered excitedly at this brilliant plan. But one of them was somewhat skeptical and stepped forward.

NCO: High General, permission to speak?

Antonio: Granted, what is it?

NCO: This is indeed a glorious plan, but should we not attempt to divert their attention? We cannot focus all of our power in this place alone.

Antonio: Ahh...I see you are one of our more clever officers.

The NCO held his head up proudly, feeling flattered.

Antonio: I have called for reinforcements. The 33rd Kombat Zeppelin Fleet will be joing us, along with two dozen Witchfires, four dozen Boomchild tanks, and three thousand Hazard Kompany soldiers. These reinforcements will be designated "Task Force Bravo." While we hold the enemy down here, Task Force Bravo will travel by night behind enemy lines straight to the capitol.

NCO: But sir, will they not detect our aircraft by radar?

Antonio: How will they detect us if they have no radar?

NCO: ...sir?

Antonio: Hazard Kompany troops will be deployed just outside of their radar range via drop pods. They will use the utmost stealth in order to take out the radar stations quietly. As we advance, Armedland's military will have no idea that Task Force Bravo (TFB) will be en route to their capitol. Once within range, the Fleet will land and deploy the Witchfires, the tanks, and the rest of the Hazard Kompany soldiers. Moments later, when the soldiers and armor are right outside of the city, the Fleet and the Witchfires will commence the bombardment of the city, opening it up for destruction and possibly capture. This will likely distract the troops outside of Aba Iulia, giving our forces there the opportunity to counterattack and annihilate every last one of them. Oh and I almost forgot something. While I cannot say for sure, I strongly believe Deus-V is in the area and they will most likely be targeting the radar stations as well. Any questions?

NCO's: No sir!

Antonio: Dismissed! Heil der Kyzar!

NCO's: HEIL DER KYZAR!

All over the city, Kommandorian troops milled about, fulfilling the High General's orders. Now this city was near-impregnable. It would take a gargantuan sized army in order to overwhelm the city at this point. From outside the city, it appeared as though burning, black walls were being erected in street corridors everywhere. The pitch black smoke was finally dying down...but it would likely billow once more very soon...

Meanwhile, the 33rd Kombat Zeppelin Fleet was en route to the western border of Armedland. Within the bellies of these flying beasts, thousands of soldiers and dozens upon dozens of vehicles were being prepped for combat. The Deus-V had been listening to Antonio de Corleone's plans through a bug in the field HQ tent and were already headed for the western border to aid their comrades...

[Kaligula]

The Diamondscope satellite was activated by the Legate and Armada to aid in the second phase in Operation: Triggerguard. The satellite would be using what the Shepard Team calls the 'Ghost Signal Broadcast'. With the aid of transmissions from Armada vessels and aircraft to the satellite, the satellite would then serve as a repeater to mimic frequencies that would be detected by radar. This 'Ghost Signal Broadcast' would not disable enemy radar, but rather barrage their systems so that an enemy would see 15-30 aircraft on the radar when in reality there would only be 3 or 4 in the sky. Using the GSB does have drawbacks on friendly forces however. All aircraft and vessels in the area of the broadcast are afflicted, whether friend or foe, this causes a vast amount of problems for aircraft to engage any targets by radar. Similarly, anti-aircraft installations will find it nerve racking to engage enemy aircraft by radar while the GSB is being transmitted. At the risk of revealing the true flight paths of friendly aircraft to the enemy, the GSB can be turned off. When the GSB is turned off by aircraft or ship, it will take several seconds for Diamondscope to actually stop. GSB can be flickered on and off, allowing time windows for enemy and friendly aircraft to use their radars unhindered. Such an action can be risky for friendly aircraft, because it would allow enemy forces to locate the friendly aircraft for a short amount of time.

With 5 hours until the main amphibious assault, the GSB was activated. No Kali aircraft were in the sky, the Armada and the Legate just wanted to see how Soviet forces would respond to their aircraft radar being garbled with false readings. After an hour and a half, 26 C-160's took flight from Invincible class aircraft carriers, escorted by 5 B-1 Lancers and 35 Tornado fighters as escort. The C-160's contained 1,300 of the 3rd Legate's Reconnaissance and Guerrilla Tactics Unit along with supplies and armaments to sustain them for a month (The idea is that if unable to be resupplied, the commandos will be able to make use of the land or nearby towns** for food and water, and slain enemy forces for ammunition and weapons). They would be para dropped deep into the 'Scandinavian' Soviet controlled land, strategically dispersed of course. There were to be in 26 teams of 50 Legate (soldiers), their mission was to conduct guerrilla warfare, reconnaissance, and espionage. The unit selected to carry out this dangerous operation was Romeo 1, which was known throughout the Legate for consistently raising the bar for the expectations of military snipers.

**= Many of these commandos (Not all) are fluent in Swedish or Russian. All of them know at least enough to be able to make basic conversation in one of these languages and to read signs.

http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20081125070547AAUQ7KD

Each commando has been allotted 4,200 Rubles (Aprox $144) for buying supplies if necessary.

[Scocialist Provinces]

Marcus N. Andakov, Demon 2-9
Exiting CDSPian airspace
2:41 Zulu time

"All callsigns Demon, report."

"1-1, reporting in".

"1-2, reporting in."

"1-3, reporting in."

Marcus Andakov adjusted a dial on his helmet's HUD. He was flying in his SU-31 'Hellfire' anti-ground jet. It was dual pilot, armed with several air-to-ground missiles, machine guns, and bombs. Marcus had just taken off from the Veshivoslav military airport, and was flying alongside several varieties of alike airplanes. This was going to be a fast attack on any soviet hostilities across the border. It was to test the alertness and readiness of the soviet's fortifications, lest another conflict arise.




"2-9, reporting in."

The quick attack would only last around half an hour, maybe destroy a few key locations. Another purpose for a strike such as this would be to appease the population. In a dangerous time such as this, the average citizen wants a healthy serving of food and soviet blood. The government had been setting up a careful balance of both. International aid and Scientific solutions to the food shortage to satisfy one half, skirmishes and border town firefights to satisfy the other.

"4-5 reporting in. That's everyone."

Marcus examined the view from his cockpit. The Veshivoslav mountain range. Arguably the only serene place in the CDSP, ignoring the cluster of armed jets constantly roaring overtop. Crevasses dug in as deep as the ocean, mountains towering as high as the sky. Marcus could see the top of Harven's peak, where a cove of dragons with varied colors circled like vultures. Then, the mountains stopped. Villages and towns lay in ruin, pillars of smoke grasping upwards. Tanks climbed over the rubble alongside men of all different stripes. This land was not one of beauty, but one of death, fire and darkness.

"All callsigns Demon, you've passed into the red zone. Good luck."


***


Max .J Shore, 'Lizard'
Government Emergency Clinic, Cape Slaviak
23:47 Zulu time


"People. Normal people, bad people, good people... It doesn't matter. They're all here for the same reason. They want to live. Something has afflicted them, and they want to survive. They all know who to blame. The big red tumor sitting over the mountainside. We had a plan. But time and reality shattered it. What is left of our kind goes to places akin to here, seeking help. Seeking will. Seeking life. Commander Shore, I find it difficult to believe you'd have volunteered to do this. You should be on the front lines."

"These clinic workers need a few people with an actual capacity for work, 'War-Captain Rechunski'."

"Damn it, Max, don't be so formal."

"It's sad, isn't it though, Rechunski?"

"You're right. But the task force needs you more than these people do. Hell, the country needs you more."

"Look, it's not a war anymore. Both sides are getting thinned out, chewed up and destroyed each in their own unique way. News came in about domestic trouble in Russia."

"All the more reason you should pick up your gun and seize the initiative!"

"Look, Krespin, But things are changing. I don't know if you've noticed, but not everyone wants to continue. This war can't last forever. Even if it means letting them into the Concordat--"

"You know that isn't an option. Grab your gear. Your leave is over. That's an order, Commander."

"I'll take it up with Armand, Rechunski.

[Kauvara]

OFFICIAL POST FOR ARMEDLAND, BASED ON A SERIES OF TG'S HE SENT ME

-Holding the Kommandorian front, and fortifying positions
-Preparing to rally with the provided Chinese Troops with the vast Armedlandian army once they break through the Sovietyetan lines
-Regrouping in the deserts and preparing a defensive/anti-aircraft screen

In short, he is fortifying, and preparing for a long, bloody war of attrition, while counting on China to come and break the stalemate

Up next is Octovia, followed by China, and then Soviet! Just a reminder of the post order:

1. Kauvara
2. Prizyetsa
3. Kommandoria
4. Kaligula
5. CDSP
6. Armedland <-- JUST FINISHED
7. Octovia <-- UP NOW
8. China
9. Sovietyeto
10. Solgardt (welcome!)

[Kauvara]

OFFICIAL POST FOR OCTOVIA:

-Adding defensive strength to Armedland's maneuvers

In short, he is buffing up everything that Armedland is doing.

Up next is China, followed by Soviet, and then Solgardt! Just a reminder of the post order:

1. Kauvara
2. Prizyetsa
3. Kommandoria
4. Kaligula
5. CDSP
6. Armedland
7. Octovia <-- JUST FINISHED
8. China <-- UP NOW
9. Sovietyeto
10. Solgardt

[Isolated China]

OFFICIAL POST FOR CHINA:

-Operations Tsunami, Vitality, and Black Rain are about to commence.
-Last adjustments to the plans are being made.
-Supplies and equipment are arriving in large quantities on the front lines.
-Secret IC messages are sent to the Coalition, Armedland, and CDSP. (Will elaborate on next post.)
-CCP is negotiating with tribes to the south-west, in an attempt to make China equilateral.

Basically, I'm about to commence my plans.

Now its Soviet, then Solgardt.
1. Kauvara
2. Prizyetsa
3. Kommandoria
4. Kaligula
5. CDSP
6. Armedland
7. Octovia
8. China <-- JUST FINISHED
9. Sovietyeto <-- UP NOW
10. Solgardt
Did this to save you guys some time and me as well. I have to pack and leave in like 5 minutes so sorry guys. I'll work on my post in advance next time.

[The Sovietyeto]

Reserved

[The Sovietyeto]

A single blow must destroy the enemy... Regardless of losses... A single all-destroying blow. -Adolf Hitler

Prizyetsa controlled islands south of Issøy
1:00 Central Moscow Timing
Operation Backfire

Soviet Air Wing 27 B/E
Soviet Air Wing 28 B/E
Soviet Air Wing 29 B/E
Soviet Air Wing 30 B/E
Soviet Air Wing 40 B
Soviet Air Wing 41 B
Soviet Air Wing 42 B
Soviet Air Wing 43 F
Soviet Air Wing 44 F

24 Hours Ago

The day was cloudy and humid, rays of the moon rarely and tentatively poked out from the could. The ground was wet with dew as the grass bent over from the weight of the water droplets. The air was dense with humidity. It was a night like this most people stayed inside to avoid the sweltering heat of the day an the odd cold of the night. But it was this night that Prizyetsa would attack, and the USSR would strike back ten-fold.

Time passed like jelly. It was not fluid, and moments crawled by like tar. The snails moved after then the hands of the clock. And in the distance a small town lay, a nice town. Filled with nice people. They payed no attention to the Soviet annexation, and the Soviets payed no attention to them. It was common for them to come not as police, but as customers to the local bar.

Private Igi didn't drink. He don't like to drink. It gave him a headache and made him woozy. He didn't mind playing cards with his friends though. They drank, and so he often won when they did. That was likely the only thing they argued about. Otherwise they got along very well on and off duty.

Usually he manned one of the costal batteries on the beach. It was green And jut out like a thumbtack in the gentle, soft sands of the beach. It was a symbol of peace as the natives of Issøy believed it to be. But like so many ironic things it would be soaked with the blood of men. But right now men in the bar were happy.

The Old Kremlin 12 Hours Ago

"So they have all moved into position. Their ships are around Issøy and they are violating national boundaries. This is as good as a declaration of war. We have to predict the worst, they are going to attack." The Air Marshal's voice didn't echo. The black war room was silent. Then all of heaven and earth broke lose and suggestions were fired left and right. "If we launched-" "We could sue for p-" "Are you daft?" "How fast can we move-"

"Shut up!" roared the General of the Red Army. "I can't think!" He paused. And the rooms mood mellowed. "We can prepare, no declaration, but the first shot they fire and we strike." The General eyed Rostislav, the High Admiral of the Soviet Navy. "We need you to move submersibles. Prizyetans put their budget on their navy and likewise it is their strength. I don't want them to have that, you know what to do. Rostislav saluted, signaled several officers and walked out of the room with them to plan.

"We know what their weaknesses are. Their economy is hurt and military spending there is at a minimal. I think we can estimate their moral will be likewise, in the tank. They are unable to move large amounts of divisions at once as well. They have a great distance from their bases to their mainland as well... That is our greatest knowledge..."

The Air Marshal picked up. "We can bomb them, stealth bombers on all the military installations and ports. They will have no more supplies unless they arrive from the mainland, and those cannot carry weaponry, range wouldn't permit it. They will fall under easy prey their convoys will. We can take them with a single blow.

"What of the Anti-Air Net around Issøy?" an unknown officer put in. We can use our superior airpower to keep the ships busy. Avoid their strongpoints and maybe disorganized them before we use our actual navy, coastal batteries will be useful as well. SAM we can depend on as well. If they strike out bases we have them heavily fortified. Most will still be operational I predict. Mobile LFs will be intact as well. Any coastal landing will be near imposingly if we stick to our strong points. Meanwhile we can use our bombers from Norway to hit their islands."

The General frown, "We have worked something out with China, I think. Our new leader isn't telling much right now... I think he has something though. Kaligula will be a cakewalk. After Priyetsa they will feel uneasy, and any invasion attempt will be thwarted by our own air force and navy. I still think we should move our important assets in Issøy and Norway away though, civilians to."

"The DSP is an easy one two, I will personally manage it. I have given you my two cents marshall. You and me will coordinate a battle plan within the hour."

The two men smiled, they were confident. Maybe they could pull this off after all. But they were also unprepared, could the surprise pull it all off?

Present, Issøy
A message was dispatched to the Kauvaran air convoys, while they didn't want to stop them policy declared they would need to file passports for passing into Soviet airspace. It was simple, an electronic form delivered with a letter by a Soviet official. The new Soviet leaders ingratiation speech might have been part of this.

He declared "This is not a war against the workers and the worlds people, but against foreign government and their forces which would be satisfied with nothing less then the destruction of order in Russia.". The context was simple if you analyzed it enough. Although it was more impressive if you heard the entire speech which was 'electrifying' and 'in touch with the people'.

Now the men in the airport tower had to wait for the reply, and forward it to the government.

Present, Issøy Shoreline near the town of Kajik

Igi sat, hunkered into the crammed inside the coastal battery he commanded. The night air whispered into the 'room' through a filtered vent. On a digital display he could see dots. Those dots were Prizyetsan ships. Lots of boats. But he also saw concrete blocks to prevent tanks and slow down men out of another display. Soviet men and Soviet artillery and Soviet tanks and Soviet planes. Lots of them. The first shot to be fired would signal the beginning of a battle, no, a war. His radio buzzed, "Igi, the SAM silo's have been hit, most are operational but we need to 'fix' them a little bit. Until then we have the mobiles and the few LFs ready right now... Hell, why lie, about 3 are still operational... We might fix the other 26 within a few months though..." It was not reassuring.

Igi didn't know which commander it was, but he spewed out a few more words that confirmed who he was then hung up. A friend of Igi loaded a shell into the battery's barrel, Igi aimed away and inti the water to do no harm, and fired. This was the signal, they were now on the alert, the bang would signal everyone.

[Solgardt]

Solgardt, Uthgardt, Present

The Patriarch of the First House of Solgardt sat in his conference room, deep below the glacial range of Uthgardt. Unlike most Solgardtans, he wore no mask. His suit spoke of impeccability, and his cigarette made wafting streamers of haze throughout the dimly lit tele-comm room. He sat, perfectly at ease in a Sogardtan Whale leather chair, awaiting news of the first of the nation's international military-diplomatic operations.

When convoy "Nova Keresh", a massive arms shipment to Kaligula containing the PAAMS anti-missle defense system, reported according to official protocol, that not only had the naval flotilla successfully delivered a state-of-the-art PAAMS anti-missile system to the Kaligulan Controllerate, but that they were under eminent attack from Sovietyeto due to the larger nations own attack on Kaligula, The Primarch was annoyed. While the Solgardt flotilla would extend every aid against the Sovietyeto military attack with the allied forces of the Kaligulan military and engineering core, The Patriarch grimaced, and drank his scotch and smoked his cigarette as he considered the undesirable predicament his nation was beginning to enter. While good news came from the trade routes established by the Kauvaran food trade line to buoy the spirits of the normally dour Solgardt people, the Patriarch was in a foul mood due to the tensions arising from the North.

Beyond his new and esteemed trade partners, whom he saw phenomenal opportunity for trade and economic progress, the shadow of world war chilled his already cold heart. The Patriarch already had to deal with a nation that had once been at it's own throat, clans ready to melt a whole continent in the fires of nuclear apocalypse. And now, following the Patriarch's clan's ability to forge a strong peace, he now had to deal with vicious world powers with a myriad of self-interests and tensions.

This was not the Primarch's happiest day.

The Patriarch reviewed the report of the potential naval skirmish that may befall his military envoy to Kaligula, and considered the possibilities. Out there, in the decadent and over-privileged continents, were any number of world powers ready to bully and muscle their way to dominance. While a few nations were eager to find the Solgardt economic opportunities or their military's aid in actions against larger, genocidal powers, many viewed the emerging Sub-arctic nation as a threat that would need to be watched carefully. This was a world consisting of Dark Lands, of which few friends could be readily found.

With this mentality in mind, the Primarch tapped his cigarette into his ashtray. The naval forces would do their part in destroying whatever impetuous foreign attack came against Kaligula, and if they escaped too much harm, would serve as a inspiration to Solgardt and Kaligulan diplomacy to vouch for Solgardt's own loyalty and commitment. The Kaliguans were an ally with Solgardt in this together, and Solgardt would benefit from any allied connections Kaligula could provide in turn. The first and foremost objective of the Seven Houses of Solgardt was economic progress. The second, and more nefarious, was to ensure aggressive world powers were distracted from any Solgardtan agendas and markets of interest. And, forming a plan, the Patriarch began to plan.

Solgardt was not interested in overtly joining this unfamiliar war. Tensions a hundred years old fueled this conflict, and Solgardt had no personal stake in it. But the Primarch was not ready to entirely remove his nation's fingerprints from the table. He would petition, and thoroughly provide motivation, for the Council to authorize reinforced naval support for Kaligula against any attack from the Soviets. After this military action off the shores of Kaligula, that the Primarch of the First House of Solgardt would institute Operation Ellipses. The operation would foreshadow the subtle paranoia of Solgardtan foreign policy, especially in regards to un-allied nations, and begin the Solgardt Council of Seven's use of non-state actors as political and military chess-pieces in future political endeavors.

Gears were now turning in the hierarchy of the Solgardtan upper-echelons. The Solgardt fleet was put on Orange Alert, and the Nova Keresh flotilla was reinforced in the harbors of Kaligula. Tech-trades would take place to ensure Kaligula would be economically near Solgardt as safely as possible, to the profit of Solgardt military-industrial complex and the Kaligulan military. The boost in technology in the areas of INTEC and ARMTEC would bring Kaligula into a tech range more in line with Solgardt's own, over the course of a several year peroid. This offer would be extended to Kaligula's allies as well.

In a hostile world, Solgardt needs friends. And while the Primarch knew the benevolent hegemony of Kauvara would be a fundamentally important economic ally, The Primarch needed friends in low places. Places where the Soviets have few friends, and where money and power were similar means to an end...

[Prizyetsa]

PPMS Fenix, Battle group “Tær”, North Entas Ocean off the coast of Issøy

The admiral sat in his chair, fiddling with his old pipe. The screen in front of him displayed the course of the missiles, and the detonations. He swiveled around in his chair to the main holographic display on which a 3-D image of Issøy showing the targets which would be targeted next, as well as the ones which had been knocked out, which were confirmed by Nata, the shipboard AI computer. The admiral let out a long sigh. “Nata, status report please.” The small holographic image of Nata sprung to life from the console beside the admiral’s chair. “Yes sir. As you can see, 96% of the targets marked for the first volley have been hit. Of those, 83% have been totally destroyed, with the remaining 17% having been critically damaged.” She said, displaying the battle information listing the targets and their status. “I estimate, together with known data on the Soviet systems and satellite imaging from Coalition Navy satellite imaging, that it will take at least two days to repair the partially destroyed systems to operational capability, although the launch pads have been partially or totally destroyed. With this in mind, the remaining 4% of the targets meant to be destroyed have already been placed in the targeting formulae for the second volley.” The admiral stood up and walked around the large holographic table. “Thank you Nata.” He said to the shimmering image. She gave a courteous bow, and stood at ease, as she usually did. The admiral put away his pipe and rested on the large projector. “The next line up of targets, please?” he asked Nata. “Yes admiral. The next line up of targets is as follows. The two airfields of Issøy, marked here and here. Minimal damage to the civilian structures will be done, while maximum damage to the runways and military hangars located here and here.” As she told him the targets, the map split in to two, and highlighted the airfields in great detail, showing all structures and aircraft present. “After that, main bridges will be targeted along with communications services, located at each of the highlighted areas. Specific targets are the island’s main radio station, television studios and stations, as well as the main train junction and highway viaducts and crossings leading out of the main cities. Military depots will be targeted, as well as the islands main military headquarters, and secondary and tertiary headquarters facilities. Additionally, the remaining SAM sites will be hit again, as requested. After the strike, radio jamming will commence.” The admiral nodded. “Thank you very much Nata. Have you computed the trajectories to the targets? And one more thing, the missiles targeting the runways, what are they tipped with?” Nata bowed again. “It was my pleasure admiral. The calculations have been carried completed, and the missiles are ready to be fired. The warheads of the missiles targeting the runways are RDP-300kg cluster weapons. The missiles themselves are Kotka CHCM systems, 8 in total. Another 8 are ready in reserve in case the first malfunction or miss their targets, as interception is a minimal risk.” the image of Nata shimmered in a neutral grey. “Thank you Nata. Fire the missiles in 20 seconds. Run final check now please, and arm the missiles.” She bowed yet again. “Yes sir.” And just as she had appeared, she flickered away.

Twenty seconds later, a series of flashes sprouted up from the bow of the Fenix and several of her escorts followed by the thin trails of smoke from the butts of the missiles. The missiles soared into the sky before splitting into three groups, each at a different altitude. The first group dropped back down to just above the sea’s vast grey swells, the second leveling out and the final group of missiles soaring up over the clouds.

PPMS Gralland (Kjedal class aircraft carrier), Battle group “Tær”, North Entas Ocean off the coast of Issøy

The flight deck of the aircraft carrier was like a beehive of activity, with crewmembers running about preparing aircraft to be available for scramble for fleet protection. Weapons were loaded into the weapons bays and planes were being fueled up and prepared to take off. A squadron of dark grey aircraft stood ready side by side, lined up on the side of the flight deck in front of the main tower. On their tails they wore the yellow stripe of the 482nd fleet air squadron, also known as the “Guardian Pixies”, or simply the fleet’s guardians. The 482nd fleet air squadron was the best of what the naval aviation corps had to offer, and was the place every pilot in the Prizyetsi military wanted to be. In their heavily slanted tails, their numbers were displayed in bold blue, from 1 to 7. The aircraft were held in place by wheel-blocks, but were only seconds away from the carrier’s four magnetic catapults. Further down the deck sat two more squadrons.

Already on two of the catapults sat two “Ævaser” aerial early warning and aerial search command aircraft. Mounted on top of their fuselages sat two large rectangular pods which housed the AESA pulsed radar systems, the state of the art systems which could detect nearly anything, albeit extremely stealthy aircraft, up to almost 600km away once the aircraft was at scanning altitude. Both aircraft had a second pod underneath their right wing, which was the counter electronic warfare pod, which the crew simply called “soup” for short. Several crew members activated the soup pods, and cleared the catapults. A loud alarm went off, and three red lights displayed at the end of the deck turned green. In an instant, the aircraft shot forward, and off of the deck, seeming to disappear off into the grey sea below before pulling up and gaining altitude. Once clear of the ship, both aircraft broke off in separate directions and begun their scanning of the airspace north-west of the fleet towards Issøy. A similar aircraft would be doing the same to the East, attached to the Kaligullan fleet.

72 hours prior to “OPERATION TORCH”, 5th Attack Submarine Squadron (PPMS Kimera, PPMS Hjell, PPMS Karen, Hai class submarine), PPMS Kimera, South Entas Ocean

The submarine squadron had been sitting idle on the shallow bottom of the East Entas Plateau for three days, awaiting orders from the naval headquarters in Vosonje. While positioned there, they had been keeping a silent watch of all of the ships in a 100km radius, and training their skills in ship identification by sound alone. So far, the new members of the crew had learned quickly, and were able to identify 83% of the civilian vessels, and all of the military vessels, which were not as numerous in type as some of the more specialized commercial ships. Morale was high. The crew abided to their 8 hour shifts, and relaxed in their free time. Until they got word from Vosonje, the crew were free to do what they pleased within their berths, which was not a common occurrence, so many wrote letters home to their families and read book from the small onboard library.

On the bridge of the sub, or rather the command space, stations were manned by a half crew in order to allow for more free time, and a higher morale since the submarine squadron was not required to be at combat readiness until orders came in. The command area was washed over by a blue hue of light. The captain sat in his chair, reading the previous week’s paper, a bowl of bonbons resting on the arm-rest. The captain, or rather the commander according to his actual rank, was a man of average size and composure. His age would have been estimated to be much younger had it not been for his salt and pepper hair, which he wore in a short orderly fashion. He didn’t wear the regular charcoal color navy uniform coat, but sat in his undershirt, which was clean, something the commander appreciated and followed what he believed about all officers, regardless of station, should always wear clean clothes, and he wore a pair of reading glasses which sat on his nose. Drifting away, he wondered how his family was doing. His son should be graduating from university soon, and his wife’s birthday would be coming up as well. Since his departure, he hadn’t heard from them at all. Perhaps, he thought, family isn’t something to think of onboard a submarine.
Sitting up, he put his paper away and straightened his shirt. Getting up out of his char, he pulled his pants up, and put on his hat, which sat on the holographic chart table. The commander walked around the control room, checking all of the panels and screens to make sure that everything was in order, and most important of all, to kill time. As the commanding officer, he felt that it was his job to remain on station at all times, especially now. Satisfied that everything was in order, he decided that he ought to check on the crew. If he missed home, he was sure that the other sailors onboard did was well. He walked out of the command area, ducking under the bulkhead and walked down the hall towards the commissioned galley. Down the hall were pictures of the sub in different ports of the world, Vosonje, Kormosk, Jallu, Vulpes. When he reached the galley, he found several sailors playing cards while another group sat watching a film. They all stood up to salute him, but the commander waved his hand. “Come on now, that isn’t necessary. As you were.” He told them all, and they resumed their games and the film they were watching. One of the sailors turned to him and smiled. “Would you like to join us, sir?” the commander returned the smile and shook his head. “You know I’m rubbish at cards, Ivahlson. Maybe next time.” Laughing, they let the commander carry on his rounds. His next stop was the officers’ mess. When he walked in, he found a group of officers playing some video game on the television which hung from the wall. Upon his entrance, they too stood up and saluted, letting the game play. “At ease.” He told them, and they all sat down facing him. “Have we gotten any orders yet, sir?” one of the officers, a young woman, asked the commander. “Not yet, Joanna. I’m as eager as you to get under way.” She smiled at him and nodded. “Thank you sir.” She replied. The commander walked over to a small liquor cabinet and opened it. Looking at the bottles, he closed it again and went to the fridge and retrieved a bottle of some sort labeled, Elsenborger. The green glass hid the true color of the drink, but once the commander removed the cap, the foam which was typical of a beer gave the drink’s identity away. “Anyone else like a beer? They’re cold.”
Just as the commander had offered the beverage to his officer staff, another man entered the mess and saluted. He wore the patch of the sub’s communications officer. “Evening, sir.” He said, giving the commander a crisp salute. “This has just come in from Vosonje headquarters.” He told the commander, holding out a slip of paper. The commander took it, and read it over.

TO: 5TH ATTACK SUBMARINE SQUADRON
FROM: VOSONJE NAVAL COMMAND HEADQUARTERS

PRE-COMBAT ALERT 2. PROCEED TO GRID RV POINT 12-34-1-8. UPON ARRIVAL, AWAIT FURTHER ORDERS. OUT.

The commander read it again, and sighed. “Well Joanna, here are our orders. It seems we’re heading North.” He told her, handing over the orders. Joanna took the paper and read it over herself. “About time, don’t you think?” she asked the other officers. They all smiled and stood up gathering their things and buttoning up their uniforms. “Ladies and gentlemen, time to go.” The commander announced, walking out of the mess. Minutes later, the orders to head out were announced over the intercom, and the three submarines started their journey North.

74 hours prior to “OPERATION TORCH”, Parliamentary Palace, Venji

Madam Falasamii sat at the head of a long hard wood table together with Prizyetsa’s leading ministers, diplomats and military officials as well as envoys from the Coalition countries. In front of everyone sat a glass of water and a folder, containing the operation plans. “Ladies, gentlemen? I assume you have all been informed on what Admiral Hjellvik has named, operation torch?” The prime minister asked her colleagues. Everyone present nodded and took the folders, opening them. “Admiral, could you please go over the operation for us?” The admiral stood up out of her chair, and straightened her coat. Her graying blonde hair was up in a tight bun, and two braids ran from where her hair parted at the front and until they disappeared into the bun. She took a small remote out of her uniform pocket and activated a large screen at the end of the table opposite of the prime minister.

(OOC: I’m taking the briefing out for the obvious reason of operation secrecy…)

After the briefing was completed, Mette-Mari Falasamii gave the admiral permission to begin the operation. Admiral Hjellvik saluted, and walked out of the room together with her aide and two bodyguards. Orders would be sent out to the fleets involved and months of preparations would finally be payed off.

BURST MESSAGE
FROM PPMS MENNIALIN (SLBM CAPABLE SUBMARINE)
TO VOSONJE NAVAL HEADQUARTERS STRATEGIC SUBMARINE OPERATIONS OFFICE (VSHQ-SSOO)

ON STATION, PAYLOAD READY FOR EMEDIATE LAUNCH FOR SURGICAL STRIKES. AWAITING FURTHER ORDERS. OUT.

[The Sovietyeto]

[Kauvara]

BRIDGE, FLAGSHIP SWORD OF OR’YAN
AIRSPACE SOUTHEAST OF ISSØY
01:42 HOURS

A "shield-ship" extends its bulwark

“Sir, it’s started!”
“Orders?!?”
“Missiles, break break break!”
“All ships, shift formation! Loosen up! We’ve got missiles incoming!”
“Who the hell is firing at us?!?”
“It’s the Prizyetsi! It looks like they’ve started their attack!”

The Skyfleet quickly shifted, the moonlit clouds piercing as missiles streaked between the vessels. The Prizyetsi had neglected to tell Kauvara what they were planning, which resulting in the Skyfleet being exactly where the missiles were travelling. “All vessels, all ahead full!” Raines shouted. All across the Skyfleet, the steel ships shifted their positions, the formation widening and shifting as Prizyetsi missiles streaked through. “All ships, move forward at best possible speed! Maintain formation, and get out of Soviet airspace! This is NOT our fight!”

All across the Skyfleet, the massive vessels banked in the starlit night, cleaving through the white sea of clouds. Missiles streaked by each ship, narrowly missing. The larger vessels were basically relying on luck; due to their size, they could not take evasive maneuvers without destroying those around them. Finally, after a few tense seconds, the volley had finally passed, the all-clear sounding. “All ships, retake formation, and reduce speed. And send a message to the Prizyetsi. We’re clear, but, next time, maybe they could keep us in the loop?” Raines called out. The crew began murmuring amongst each other.

“By the Fox, did you see all of those?”
“There’s gonna be hell on Issøy in a few seconds…”
“Yeah, glad I’m not those guys…”
“Where the hell are we, anyway…?”
“Edge of Sovietyetan airspace, I think…”
“Cut the chatter, sailors! Man your posts!”

Raines sighed, looking to Emperor Or’yan. “Milord, I apologize for that incident. Casualty reports are coming in now. We have several wounded on each major vessel, mostly from the unprepared shifting of our forces. The troops are a little jittery, but that’s natural. They just weren’t expecting the attack. However, it appears we’ve almost cleared Sovietyetan airspace. I-“ He was interrupted, a tech sergeant running up to him.

“Sir, we’re being hailed! It’s the Sovietyetans!” he said.
“What? Are they asking for help? They must’ve just been hit…”
“No sir! They… They’re asking for us to apply for passports…”

Raines blinked. He could not believe it. The Soviets had just been hit with a full missile barrage, maybe multiple for all he knew. They must have had heavy casualties. Potentially in the thousands. And they wanted Fox damned passports. Raines just shook his head. “We can’t. We have a time sensitive mission of aid to the CDSP. Besides, we’ve almost passed through. Just… Ah, you have your orders, Sergeant. Carry them out.”
“Yes, sir!” the sergeant replied, crisply saluting as he turned and walked over to the communications console.

Raines just shook his head. Ah, what was this war coming to…?

The Skyfleet powered forward, making its way to the CDSP.


OUTPOST 48-G, OUTSKIRTS OF VESHIVOSLAV
VESHIVOSLAV MOUNTAIN RANGE, CONSTITUTIONAL DICTATORSHIP OF SCOCIALIST PROVINCES
04:43 HOURS

A corvette descends into an underground docking complex

The skies were bleak, traditional CDSPian weather in the outskirts of the major city. The air was still, much of the wildlife suffering. A dragon called out from somewhere in the distance, its weak roar almost echoing a death call, hungry for sustenance. A group of civilians was crowded around a large, metal building marked “GRANARY.” With a load clack, the iron doors were sealed. “I’m sorry!” one of the soldiers yelled to the group of people. “That is all we have to give out today! Please come back tomorrow!”
“But there isn’t enough food! How will we last?!? You have to open the granaries!”
“If we open the granaries, your bellies will be full for what, a day? Then what will happen? We have to ration the food out! There is no way we can give more than this!”
“I swear to the Arnaz, if you don’t open those doors-!”

The group was interrupted by a deafening roar, three Kauvran corvettes streaking overhead. “What the fuck?!?” the soldiers shouted, raising their rifles. A massive fleet of steel and iron was approaching, descending through the clouds.

“All units!” the radio crackled. “Stand down! It’s the Kauvarans! Hold your fire!”
“The Kauvarans…?”
“I had heard the rumors…”
“They’re here…”

Massive bulk freighters with red crosses painted on their sides began to land, one of them near the outpost.

“THEY’RE HERE!”

One of the freighters touched down, its massive cargo doors opening, revealing thousands of tons of food, supplies, and other relief. The civilians started to cheer, cry, and rejoice, running towards the open doors.

“I don’t believe it…” one of the soldiers breathed. He dropped his rifle, joining the throng of people.


OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT, CDSP CAPITAL BUILDING
VESHIVOSLAV, CONSTITUTIONAL DICTATORSHIP OF SCOCIALIST PROVINCES
05:21 HOURS

“Aleksandr,” Keriolenko began. “You couldn’t have come at a better time. We expected you, to be sure, but we didn’t know if you’d make it past those Soviet bastards.”
“Don’t worry, Armand,” Or’yan replied. “I wouldn’t leave you and your people out to dry!”

The pair toasted, their glasses full of Bossk Whiskey. The room was quiet, other than a classic CDSPian song playing in the background, and the ever-present Gaius Kauvus in the corner, ever vigilant to keep Or’yan safe. The rising sun shone through a large window against the wall, shadows of Skyfleet vessels going back and forth as they landed and offloaded supplies in the plazas, airfields, and other large areas around the city. Millions of people were milling about. Kauvaran soldiers, supplemented by the local Kaligulan troops, were getting Kauvaran aid to the CDSPians as fast as possible. Not only that, but, due to trade deals made with the Solgardti made possibly by friendly relations, supplies were moving faster than ever.

“As you know,” Or’yan explained, “we’re carrying some special cargo for you. It’s called ‘Vulpesium.’ It was made with the help of the Kommandorians. I won’t bore you with the scientific details. Hell, I don’t even fully understand them myself. Long-story-short, it’s going to heal the radiation that’s plaguing your western lands so that you can grow food for yourself once again. It won’t be instant. But it’ll at least give your people some hope. And that’s worth more than anything. And these supplies should be offloaded by the time we leave tonight.”

Keriolenko blinked. “You’re leaving tonight?”
“Correct,” Or’yan replied. “We’re just making a quick stop to drop off supplies.”
“Where the hell are you going?”
Or’yan just smiled.


LANDING ZONE OF THE IKGS AURASTYS, AIRBASE 5011
VESHIVOSLAV, CONSTITUTIONAL DICTATORSHIP OF SCOCIALIST PROVINCES
23:48 HOURS

“Shore, I swear, you have such a stupid fucking smile on your face…” Aesenstat teased.
“Shut the hell up, greenie! Just because you’ve never felt a woman’s touch doesn’t mean I don’t get to!”

Shore, Minchau, Kiara, Aisenstat, Crain, and Rosser were all assembled, watching the Aurastys descend as they stood on the tarmac. The rest of the squad was dressed in their standard uniforms, mixed with their civilian clothes. But Shore was dressed in his parade uniform, completely proper. It was starched so well, it probably could have stood on its own. The sun was beginning to set, as the Aurastys was one of the last ships that would land before the Skyfleet moved out again.

“Who the hell is this woman, anyway?” Rosser asked.
“Remember Moscow, about two years ago?” Shore replied.
“Yeah, what about it?” Crain asked.
“She was the crew chief, one of the IKSF who helped us get in and out. I met her a long time ago, during Operation: JUST SHIELD. We saved each other’s asses from Chinese troops. She’s been gone for the past year, off building colonies on some faraway star or some shit. And you know what the worst part is?” The Aurastys touched down with a heavy thud, its landing struts overlapping several strips as its massive cargo doors came down, thousands of infantrymen marching down with supplies in hand. “I still haven’t seen her face.”
“Hey, Shore?” Aisenstat asked.
“It’s pathetic, really.”
“Shore.”
“I just don’t understand why-“
“SHORE!”
“WHAT?!?”

Shore felt a tap on his shoulder. He slowly turned around. Before him was a female Kauvaran soldier, her blue/black/white fatigues clinging slightly to her form as the armor plates held snuggly. Her short blonde hair was falling into her face slightly, intermixing with her ice blue eyes. Under her arm was a helmet, the eyepiece hanging in the air, displaying deployment information. “I hope I didn’t disappoint,” Dunn said slowly, a smile pursing her lips. Behind her, the rest of Foxtrot Squad laughed. “C’mon, people,” the one with the name GAVENSON stenciled into his uniform said. “We got work to do. Dunn! Make sure you’re done by the time we move out! Ten minutes! We don’t want to leave you behind!” The squad dispersed, reuniting with the rest of the 13th Infantry as they got supplies handed out.

“S-Sydney…?” Shore breathed. “Is that you…?” The rest of his friends laughed out loud. “I think that’s our cue!” Rosser shouted. “C’mon, let’s give the rest of those Kauvarans a hand!”

They dispersed, but not before Kiara gave Dunn a long, hard look. They left Dunn and Shore alone together on the tarmac. Shore seemed to be dumbstruck, before suddenly coming to a realization. “Ten minutes? Where the hell are you going?!?”
“Somewhere that may mean I never see you again, Max…” Dunn replied, smiling weakly.
“Where the hell are you going, the gullet of Arnaz?!?”
“Heh, something like that…”
“Sydney… What’s going on…? Where is the Skyfleet going…?”

Dunn took a long look at Max, then opened her mouth to speak.

“We’re going to Moscow, Max…”


OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT, CDSP CAPITAL BUILDING
VESHIVOSLAV, CONSTITUTIONAL DICTATORSHIP OF SCOCIALIST PROVINCES
23:49 HOURS

“MOSCOW?!?” Keriolenko called out. “What the hell are you going there for?!?”

Or’yan smiled, looking out the window as the Skyfleet began to assemble. “Armand… This conflict has gone on long enough. The Sovietyetan government has been a dangerous, destabilizing influence not just on your people, but humanity as a whole. I’ve read the reports from its colonies. It’s horrible. Inhumane terrors. It has to stop. The world has been on the brink of war due to the Sovietyeto’s policies for years, now. We have to change that, by ending it once and for all. The Skyfleet is going to burn a path straight to Moscow. They Sovietyetans won’t be able to stop us. We’ll take the city, or at least burn it down. We’ll hold it for as long as we can. If the Soviets try to retake the city, then it gives everybody else some breathing room. If they don’t, then they are ‘giving up Rome without unsheathing a sword.’ Either way, we’re going to get a major victory, and help bring the Sovietyeto down, stopping its aggression for good.”
“But what about you, Aleksandr? How the hell are you going to get out of there?”
Or’yan laughed. “I don’t plan to, Armand. We’re going to hold the line for as long as possible. We’ll hold for a week, maybe two. Either way, you folks will get some much-needed space. That’s what matters…”

Kauvus approached Or’yan, whispering in his ear. “Of course, Gaius.” He turned back to Keriolenko. “The fleet is prepared. I have to leave now. This won't be private knowledge. I want everybody to know what we're doing. Let the Sovietyetans know we're coming so that they will be forced to divert forces. Let our allies know we're going, so they gain impetus in their assaults. And, please, use our gifts well. The healing elements. The sustenance. And, above all, the time we’re about to buy for you. Bashk Vol Hiem, n'aa!”


LANDING ZONE OF THE IKGS AURASTYS, AIRBASE 5011
VESHIVOSLAV, CONSTITUTIONAL DICTATORSHIP OF SCOCIALIST PROVINCES
23:58 HOURS

Shore was numb. He couldn’t believe it. A year of waiting, and he only had 120 seconds left with Dunn. “Max…” she began. “I… I don’t know if I’ll be coming back… Once the Skyfleet passes over the Veshivoslav Mountains, I don’t think… That may be it, Max, so… So I just wanted to say… Fuck it.” She leaned in, grabbing Shore by the back of his neck, pulling him in close as their lips met. Shore went weak, falling into the passionate kiss. After what felt like a blissful eternity, the pair separated. “You know what, Max? I’m not gonna tell you. I’ll tell you when we come back!” The rest of Max’s squad was reassembling. “Hey, Kiara, right?” Dunn called out. “Take care of these idiots for me while I’m in Moscow! Fox only knows that probably can’t even tie their damn bootlaces without some air support!” Dunn laughed, before moving back into the throng of soldiers that was boarding the Aurastys. Finally, the last one disappeared inside, and the massive doors sealed, the airship lifting off and rejoining the Skyfleet. With a deafening roar, the engines fired to life, and the ships began their steady move eastward…


ATOP THE KHOLKOZ STATUE, RED SQUARE
MOSCOW, THE SOVIETYETO
01:42 HOURS

Four people in black suits sat perched atop a statue, watching the stars over the Sovietyeto, looking out over the half-reconstructed Moscow.

“Well, the Skyfleet is on the way now, huh…?”
“Yeah… Looks like its time to get to work…”
“What’s our target, Tsven?”
“Anything, really. We just need to get civilians to evacuate. If they don’t then they become active combatants, used as shields by their own government. That puts Kauvara back in the right again.”
“Hell… No specifics, no back up, no resupply… Where are we off to first, folks?”
“Remus, how the hell are you always so damned optimistic…?”
“Same reason Rydan doesn’t say a Fox-damned thing. Just who I am, Elena!”

Four pairs of dress shoes clacked onto the pavement below as the figures jumped down, surrounded by dozens of other people in black suits of varying nationalities. Tsven looked to the agents. It was the largest single deployment of Agency personnel since the Central American Crisis that almost wiped the Agency out.

"C'mon, we have work to do."

[Kommandoria]

In the ruined city of Aba Iulia...

The fires and plumes of smoke had finally died down completely. Now the city was a ghost town, a cratered shell of civilization. For the most part, Aba Iulia was silent. However, in a few areas, bored soldiers had decided to crank up their radios and dance to pass the time. After all, no one was making a move on either side, for now...

DJ Gearhead: Coming up next, "KaBoomerang" by "Shrill-Six!" This one's for the boys fighting over in Armedland, here we go.
(Actual song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cR2XilcGYOo&ob=av3e)

Meanwhile, High General Antonio de Corleone conversed with the other commanders (via radio) involved in the Armedlandican front.

Antonio: Things are too quiet. I don't like it. We need to initiate a powerful pre-emptive strike.

Vito: I can't help you with that. I have to hold my position in order to assure that their counter-attacks will fail. Perhaps Silvers could be of assistance? And I'm sure testing out the new Witchfires would be effective as well.

Antonio: Indeed. Silvers, what could you throw at the Armedlandicans and Octovians that would cause them a great deal of destruction and panic?

Allistair: Hmmm...well...I suppose an HEICM-119 would do the trick quite nicely, if I may say so myself. The cruise missile's blast radius envelops 750 square meters in flames so intense that it would likely convert nearly the entire area into glass. The treads of tanks would almost certainly melt and disable them for several days. The only drawback is how slow the missile is. It will have to be escorted by the new CMFX-16 "Longsword" jets.

Vito: A grand idea. However, in my opinion, we should fire several salvos of rockets from the Witchfires first. That way, they will be confused and unorganized, thus making it harder for them to focus on downing the missile.

Antonio: Perfect. Silvers, prep the missile immediately. I want it ready in five minutes. DiBartolo, get those Longswords in the air ASAP. I'll have my men load and ready the Witchfires. Launches will commence in ten minutes. On a side note, Task Force Bravo is in position and they will be proceeding soon, albeit without the Deus-V's assistance. Dismissed.



Meanwhile, plans were being made to aid in the invasion of the Sovietyeto. After a brief secret meeting, it was decided that the Deus-V would be sent, along with several dozen tons of weapons crates, to the Soviet colonies. Upon arrival, the Deus-V would arm the populace and give them basic training. From there, they would rise up against the Soviets and eventually press towards Moscow.

Ten minutes later...

Antonio: Are we all set?

Silvers: Aye, the Hephaestus is standing by to launch.

Vito: Longswords are in the air. Ready to escort.

Antonio: Good, the Witchfires are primed and ready.

Antonio moved near a small console with several switches. Each switch was linked to consoles that had been placed in each camp. The Witchfire crewmen all stood at the ready near the utility trucks. Each one of them wore ultra-thick goggles and earmuffs. They stared at their console, which had two little lights: one red and one green. Antonio gently place his index finger on the Witchfire camp's console switch. Then, he flicked it down and the green light on the Witchfire camp's console lit up. Screeching choruses tore through the air as hundred of rockets flew into the sky, bound for the Armedland-Octovia frontline. Thirty seconds later, the cruise missile soared into the air with Longswords streaking alongside it. In another thirty seconds, the enemies of Kommandoria were going to have a very, very bad day...

[Kaligula]

Romeo 1 [In the forests and mountains of of Norway and some locations in Sweden]

Within the first 48 hours of landing in the drop-zones, the different sections of R1 had successfully moved to their various initial objectives. the 26 teams of 50 Prime Legate (Commandos) took place in crucial roads, some took snipers nest near small towns. The teams T26, T24, T22 launched motors and portable man launched guided rockets on 3 different military airstrips. The attack coordinates were given by Kali piloted Prizyetsa surveillance aircraft, the AEW&ASR. This ensured the successful surprise attack on Soviet Radar and Communications Towers. the major roads were monitored with ambush teams and roadside bombs and military mines. When the initial attack occurred on the communications and radar towers, the expected emergency soviet patrols were dispatched to seek and destroy the hidden attackers. Any Soviet forces, tanks, troops, or otherwise were ambushed by camouflaged attackers that disabled any armored vehicles with roadside bombs and anti-armor mines. Man portable surface to air missiles where launched at any helicopters that tried to patrol the dense forests and mountains that the commandos had hidden themselves in.
A second volley of motors and guided rockets attacked Soviet SAM missile sites. Since there were numerous sites, most of the teams participated in attacking the SAM sites and any other stationary anti-aircraft with similar measures used in the attacks from T26, T24 and T22. Another volley on the airfields were launched. The 2nd airfield attacks lasted only about 6 minutes, these rockets hit parked military aircraft, and a few bombardments were made on air towers and barracks. After the attacks the teams assaulting the airfields relocated immediately to a fallback location and regrouped after setting mines for the anticipated search parties.
T1-3 had landed near some of the outlying towns in Oslo. They were scattered and took positions to launch a series of sniper attacks on Soviet military personnel. This was done with the utmost care. Do to the large size of the target area, only a few attacks were made within this initial Act. During the night of the attacks two major roads were congested do to a sniper attack on military vehicles on the roads. The precociousness of the commandos ensured that their exact locations were not revealed and no civilians were killed.
T15, T16, T17 successfully sabotaged several major train tracks used to carry supplies from Sweden to Norway. Flares were set up so any train would be alerted to the danger ahead, so to prevent the trains from being derailed. These teams positioned themselves near the dismantled lines, if the stopped train was a military supply line, it was ambushed with small arms fire and ransacked. Civilian trains were left unharmed.

Legate and Armada Scandinavian Invasion Force [Off the Coasts of Norway]

After the Diamond Scope was activated, and the planes returned from para-dropping Romeo 1, the AEW&ASRs were dispatched to re-confirm the location of Soviet ships in harbor, SAM sites, and Soviet Coastal Defenses. When the AEW&ASRs left range, The Armada launched a barrage of naval cannons, and cruise missiles targeting all identified military targets in range. Just before the last missile was fired, the Diamondscope satellite was taken offline, and approximately 60 Mirage fighters, 30 B-1 Lancers, and 20 A-10 Thunderbolts took flight from the aircraft carriers. They engaged ground targets, communications towers, and naval vessels in harbor that were still afloat. They swept up the coastline conducting an aerial blitzkrieg.
The Soviet ships that were lucky enough to escape port were met by Kali submarines which had been lying in wait for retreating Soviet ships. It was anticipated that there would be a number of Soviet vessels would arrive to aid and counter attack the submarines. In the case of Soviet re-enforcements, the Kali submarines pulled back, allowing the enemy ships to pursue....
Into the minefields.

CDSP/Kali Forces [Soviet/CDSP Border]

Within the hour of the attack on Scandinavia, a coordinated missile and air attack was launched into the Soviet heartland. Ships from the 2nd Armada conducted a bombardment on coastal targets in Soviet territory, as provided by the AEW&ASRs. A quick aerial attack was launched from aircraft carriers with Mirage fighters and A-10 Thunderbolts. These fighters mainly served as a distraction, to draw scrambling Soviet fighters. The Kali fighters were to engage them and then break apart from their initial squadrons and break out for a hasty retreat. Upon retreat, a second naval bombardment was to be launched at Soviet airfields.

PAALMS SYSTEM [All major districts without letter designation, Kaligula

With the well paid help of Solgardt engineers and Kali contractors, the PAALMS system was now online. Reserve Legate units and security contractors aided the security of the construction and guarded the network hubs.

Communications Broadcast [From CDSP/SOVIET border, and Armada ships
A broadcast was aired in 3 different languages on civilian channels, encouraging rebels in Soviet controlled lands to take up arms and fight the Soviet oppressors. Details included a monetary reward from the Controller's Chamber (Office of the Controller) for rebel forces who aid in the disorientation of Soviet forces. The broadcast included promises of Kaligulan aid in their plight for freedom from Soviet tyranny.

[Scocialist Provinces]

"Fuck you, Oryan, my old friend, fuck you."
Armand Kiriolenko stood at the two story window behind his office desk that overlooked Cape Slaviak. Shelves as high as the windows stacked with books and models covered the walls where the window didn't. Kiriolenko shook his head as he watched the Skyfleet depart over the eastern horizon. Armand was dumbstruck, but he had a plan. The great Armand Kiriolenko, succesee of Paliven Maximus, always had a plan. He was fifty-six now, and his age began to catch up with him. Over twenty years, Armand had shaped the way for war and fire. But his time would pass. For today, Armand would pathe a new path. One glorious path, forged with more than just the CDSP, but with the world.

"Get Blackhouse! And Rechunski! You are to alert them and bring them my office immediatly!" Kiriolenko ordered his assisstant.

Giving armand a quick salute, the assisstant ran off to do the task given. Armand took another moment to look out the window. The Skyfleet was barely visible, and a patch of cloud had dispersed around it. An array of bright sunlight emerged from the clouds like an otherworldly being. Armand was anything but a spiritual man, but something about this sight made him feel renewed. Refreshed. He would be remembered as either the man who saved his saviors, or the one who avenged them.

"Your Powress, Igith Blackhouse and Krespin Rechunski have arrived." The servant's voice broke into Armand's thoughts.

"Ah, yes, splended. Send them in please." He requested.

"By your orders."

The two most powerfull militairy men of the CDSP, the War-Captains, stepped into the room and saluted to Kiriolenko. After a long pause, Armand placed a strategic map of the eastern USSR with Moscow in the centre. He then placed a production map of the CDSP next to the first. And last, Armand pulled out a map of the world, set it down, looked up and smirked.

"I presume you all know what these three maps have in common?" Kiriolenko asked, his mischevious grin darkening the room.

"We're rebuilding our armies." Reshunski crossed his arms.

"We're going for aid again?" Blackhouse raised an eyebrow.

"Correction, my dear lads." Kiriolenko began. "We're building an army. An international one. No proper nation on this earth wants to stand by and watch as our Kauvaran brothers and sisters set off for their deaths! The Chinese will send hordes to distract! The Armedlandians will jump to their feet in a blind rage! The Solgardt will seek vengance for their first ally! The coalition will give justice in the name of their brethren! I swear, by the tales of old, that the Skyfleet will make it! I am tasking you with keeping our men at the ready! Secure our borders, start an offensive, get to Moscow at all costs!"

At this point, Rechunski and Blackhouse had their orders known to them.
"We will not fail you, sir!" The two simultaniously spoke, and scanned over the maps.

"I will handle the rest." Armand assured them whilst sitting down at his desk. Behind him, the Skyfleet could no longer be seen in the distance, just the foothils that eventually transformed into the massive Veshivoslav mountain range.

"Dragons save us." Igith murmered as he scanned his finger across Moscow.

"That's it!" Rechunski shot up in exitement.

"What's your idea?"


***


"That was short lived, eh buddy?" Minchau lightly elbowed shore.

"Don't you dare fucking rub it in!" Shore flared out, sadness quicly buring into rage.

"Woah, woah, I meant no offence!" Minchau chuckled, waving his arms.

"Dirtbag."

"Dipshit."

The two laughed. But, even with all the people rejoycing in the streets, Shore felt empty. Too empty. He looked off into the clouds, wondering what would happen. Will the skyfleet come home victorious? Will there be a happy ending to his story? No, in order for Shore to have a happy ending, someone else must have a tragic one. "I guess that's how the world spins." Max thought to himself.

"Commander... you've got lipstick on your mouth."
Shore looked up to find Kiara giggling at him.

"Oh, what? God damn it, liutainant..." Shore stammered, pretending to wipe his mouth. In truth, he never wanted to.

"Just pointing it out, sir. Hey, either of you bastards want some lunch that isn't brown rice for once?" Kiara asked Minchau and Shore, who were both sitting on a 'park' bench.

"You bet your ass, sweets!" Minchau teased.

"Oh stop it, you." Kiara played back. "What about you, commander?" She asked.

"Oh me? I'd rather not stain the uniform. You two have a good time." Shore waved them off and smiled.

He watched them walk off, Kiara playfully shoving Mjnchau before they turned a corner.

"First date, I guess." Max laughed. He paused a long moment. A statue of a dragon rider from an age long passed towered above Max as he looked up to the sky.

He whispered something silently.
"Meola'u, tanuuk vaks'addan eno'Dunn..."

He began to cry.


***

"The Dragons?" Igith pondered.

"You sure this is a good idea?" Kiriolenko hesitated as he paced by the maps.

"We hve fought alongside them in days long past. Perhaphs we could even convince the chinese dragons too--" Rechunski was interupted.

"It Has been a thousand years since man ran alongside the dragon-kin." Igith mentioned, his deep tone rumbling far more than usual.

"But how long is a thousand years to a dragon? A decade? A year?" Kiriolenko asked the two.

"Yes, but they still feel time as we do, it's not any faster for them." Igith notioned.

Rechunski scratched his head for a quick second, the snapped his fingers. "But you forget, blood-brother, the CDSP has changed many-a-face since Attila the Destroyer had forsaken the Dragon-kin. They also are known to be voices of reason in times of despair. Like the Kauvarans"

Armand laughed. "I think Oryan's voice of reason blew a gasket and jumped out the Sword at the first island!"

"I still think the matter is plausable. I will work on getting T9-0R production on track, Rechunski. You can presue this ideal, but if it fails, many lives will be lost!" Igith warned, his haind swiping through the air.

"Do not fear, blood-brother, by the dragons or not, Moscow shall fall." Rechuncki grinned and held out his hand.

Igith grabbed Rechunski's fore-arm, Rechunski did the same, and they shook hands the way CDSPians do.


***


"Timbuctoo 2-4, requesting fire support! Do you copy, Timbuctoo 2-4 requesting fire support!"

"This is Timbuctoo 1-1, fire support is right on top of you."

"What the-- Hey, are those Valkrie TaFA choppers!? I thought we were on the defensive!"

"Not anywmore, 2-4. All Callsigns, your orders are to move up and seize every city along the eastern border, we're going secure and stabilize the border!"


***

"It's time we pick up arms, and fight for what's right."

"Salutations. The CDSP sends our regards, but this video, it's not about us. Only a matter of hours ago, hundreds of Kauvaran soldiers saved the CDSP from certain doom. But to our distress, they are flying straight into the storm. The red plauge that has corrupted many hearts including our own. But the Kauvaran Skyfleet cured our lands. They gave us the means to purge the nuclear blight that has possesed the CDSP for too long! And now that we are free, we will not see our brothers in arms perish in a blaze of glory, not alone."

"I call to you, peoples of the world, peoples of Darklandica. You can save the Skyfleet. Armedland, your people were nourished by their farms and factories! You push an assault upon the soviets, but you must add Zeal! Fuel your hatred with the lost loved. Solgardt! You were once a hermit kingdom, but now look at you! A proud international power! You owe it to the Kauvarans, who sought you out after you opend your eyes! China, were it not for Kauvara, your agricluture would not be the marvel of technology it is today, and it would not have made you so powerfull! Kaliuga, my friends. The soviets are just as much a threat to you as ayone else in this world! The Skyfleet is giving us a moment to repair, regroup and counter strike! Join us in our attack and seek to return the favor!"

"Last, but far from the least, I ask you, the Coalition. Prizyetsa is being hailed as heros for assaulting sinnøy, alongside the Skyfleet! It has pushed pressure off our eastern coast, and allowed us to commence an offensive! We wish to repay this debt in any way we are capable. But now, we will do everything in our power to save your kinsmen from the clutches of an evil nation! We ask you to join us! To fight this menace for the greater good!"

"By the Tales of Olde, we will save the Skyfleet!"

[Armedland]

Measek
The border capital, in the military district, is heavily fortified, because of its position on the Soviet front. Prizyetzan weaponry and APCs guard the city, sub-average Kommondorian tanks and weapons arming the civilian reserve. A few went for the ARES models, famous for their AK-themed model and sniper. One good thing that came out of the Russians.
The occasional skirmish between Armedlandian troops and Soviet forces in the outskirts of the city are not uncommon, though clearly both sides has larger priorities than one another. Some scholars find it ironic that the two nations that started the conflict no longer care about one another enough to fight…
The citizenship, though they do not want to, know that peace may be necessary against the Russians. Mass genocides in the south by the Kommondorians has bolstered the idea that Armedland needs to unite and push together or die trying. Octovia’s support in the war and the Coalition’s help in the past has made very attached to the Coalition above all other alliances.
Meanwhile, in the south, the army has primarily concentrated into the cities of the landscape. As 98% of the population lives in these cities, it will be much more effective to fight the war from there. Octovian missles have been set up around these areas, the soldiers are scattered around in nests, armed with either outdated Kommondorian weapons or Prizyetzan high-tech ones. Kauvaran-purchased air guards and drones are in position to blast any aircraft in the area. The portion of army on the front lines, however, fares far worse than these men.

Octovian-Armedlandian front
The missles blast into the entire line, crumbling the Armedlandian portion quickly. The areas that are not hit still retreat, with havoc and death engulfing the desert. While the major cities of the north are still safe for now, the Southern ones will be the next obvious Kommandorian target.
The generals of the military assumed that the next raid would be on the well defended cities. They were wrong. The Chinese inspired hope in Armedlandians everywhere, with “Operation Vitality” on the way. If they did not come soon, all would be lost.

[Charles Buckingham 2]

Measek, Armeland High Command
Armeland
1400 Hrs.
Walking down the long cooridors of the building, was the same as any day. Today, the halls were full of people with the same expression. Doubt, Depression, Hunger, and Hatred. The Armelandicans were being invaded. The Kommandorians were a much larger, fit, and more advanced fighting force than the Armelandicans were. This invasion only seemed to be a pawn in the greater scheme of overthrowing empires that have stood for hundreds of years. That is exactly what the Captain thought as he walked down those halls. Having worked at the Octovian Embassy before the war, Captain Jon Servello knew the country well. He watched it prosper when the Kauvarans brought their grain machines, bringing much need food to the country. This time, Armeland is in the middle of a very delicate situation. Servello needed to carefully maneuver the two countries away from Armeland and aim all their force towards the Soviets, the real problem in this world. Servello was on his way to the comms room, hoping to get a sattelite uplink to the Kommandorian High Command in Amreland, so they could work things out peacefully. He was finally able to get a signal and sent a message through.

Code: Select all

Dear Kommandorian High Command,
Our two nations are in the middle of a very tense situation. I no longer want us to fight, but to focus on our common enemy. The Soviets. I know that neither of our nations like the Soviets, yet we are both fighting for Armeland. Why? Why not help the rest of the world in bringing this war machine down. To stop beating the dead horse and to end it. That is what we need to do. I propose that the Kommandorians pull out of Armeland, and focus their entire forces on the Soviets. If this goes through, the world will be a much better place.
Yours,
Captain Jon Servello
Octovian National Army- 53rd Strategic Battallion.

Trondheim
The air was always so cold up in the eastern coast. Of course, one could get used to the temperature, but to Major Mick Tello, he may as well freeze to death here. "Damn it's cold," He muttered under his breath. Him and his team from the OSO(Octovian Special Operations) Were awaiting a troop transport to the port city of Trondheim. Operating behind enemy lines was always so difficult. "Now, we wait. In a couple of hours Octovian Artillery will start pounding this area with artillery based out of Kaligula. Hopefully, we will get the upperhand to take the port, successfully sealing off another port from the Soviets," Mick said to his team. A few blissfully cold hours passed untill the sound of shells streaked through the air, landing on the unsuspecting Soviets.

[Kauvara]

OFFICIAL POST FOR CHINA, BASED ON TGS SENT:

Headquarters for Operation Vitality
"This is not a drill. All men to your stations. I repeat, this is not a drill." Men were running left to right, hurrying to their assigned stations. Telephones were ringing. Supplies were being directed to the troops, who had begun their assault but a few hours ago. Artillery was firing in the distance. Operation Vitality had officially begun.

In the Command Tent.....
"-reports have said that the Soviets were surprised by the artillery barrage, but they have know idea of the rest of the Operation or of how strong our armies are." General Phiyong looked over his map of his operational area. The Soviets in the area were assumed to be few and weak, as the CDSPian front had been re-opened recently by an attack on the island of Hisphoy (Issoy). The Armedlandian front had been assumed to be a less priority since the Kommandorians invaded. The latter was the reason, however, that this front had been chosen to happen. "And what of the Kommandorians? I need to know now if they are in a strong enough position to stop us, or this whole Operation will be a colossal failure." "We are working on that, sir. I don't know how long it will take us to figure out, but reports suggest-" The general slammed his fist on the table. "I don't want to know what you think! I want to know what they HAVE!" The man was quiet for a few minutes, until a phone rang, that was for the General. Operation Vitality had begun, but albeit at a slow pace.....

Beijing, China
"You can't be serious!" Premier Xiang Qui exclaimed as he was being escorted to the War Room for a conference with the highest of the Chinese Military. "Or'yan really thinks he can take on the entire goddamned Soviet military in Moscow?! That city is a fortress!" His secretary, who was briefing him on the message he had gotten from both the CDSP and Kauvara, replied "It seems that the Kauvarans want to buy us and the CDSP some time, let us bring in the real muscle before the Soviets can get their troops to the right places." Xiang shook his head as he muttered "Or'yan, that bastard! When we meet again, am I going to have some words for him...." He looked up and flipped out his cellphone. Or'yan's number flickered on the blue screen as the phone began ringing........
"Xiang? How did you get this numb-?" a familiar voice said.
"Nevermind that! Are you insane, Or'yan??"
"Uh... Hello to you, too..."
"Shut up. The intelligence reports are coming in. What the hell are you doing with the Skyfleet?"
"Buying you time, friend. The Soviets are massing. We're gonna do what we can to distract them."
"By the Dragon... We're making for Moscow. You had BETTER be alive when we get there, because I've some words for you!"
"Xiang, there might not even be a fi-"

He cut the connection. "Well??" he said impatiently to the assembled officers. "Move it!"

Operation Black Fire HQ
"Are we almost ready? Have we sent all the 'appropriate' messages?" The soldier replied "Yes, we have. The attack is set to start in half an hour. The soldiers know what's going on. But if word gets out-" General Zhichou looked him straight in the eyes. "Word will not get out, do you hear me? If this goes through as we've planned, the Lenin's Line should be a cakewalk. We should be able to get a straight shot to Moscow unhindered in the entire Eastern Sovietyeto, as anything there should have to deal with Operation Tsunami's surprise. Such a brilliant plan to use against such a helpless foe." Zhichou and the soldier continued going over last-minute stuff as the Operation was about to begin.

Operation Tsunami HQ
"All ships and troops, we leave in two hours. Anyone not ready will be left behind and reprimanded. Operation Tsunami will begin in two hours. This is not a drill." A voice over the loudspeakers roared. Troops were rushing to their transports, sailors to their ships, and parachutists to their planes. What little part of the Chinese Airforce could be spared to this Operation was being used as troop transports, to allow the attack to go smoothly, as it was designed to take the Eastern Sovietyeto and send supplies to the CDSP when troops had landed. All the necessary essentials and extras had been gathered here, like at the other two operation sites.

Grand Admiral Keitaro Yamashi had been placed in charge of this operation, due to his spectacular reputation for naval invasions. He had basically decimated any type of simulated naval invasion that the Chinese Navy had to offer. Keitaro was busy putting the final adjustments to his plans, as this time, the invasion was real. "The 3rd Army will move here, while the 5th Army...." he continued muttering to himself, until a flash of light blinded him. "Keitaro" He heard, that sounded awfully familiar. He put both of his hands over his ears and kneeled on the floor. A flashback of when his family was leaving the island, while he fought Chinese soldiers. He had bought them time to leave. He only lived because of his great fighting skills. He remembered the look on his sister's face as she left him there to fight. He collapsed, passed out, only to be found an hour later. When he would wake up, he would know where his sister, Haruka, was. She was with the 13th Infantry, making for Moscow with the Skyfleet. And he would go there to find her.

[The Sovietyeto]

"Haven't seen him for the last week; the vice has been running the whole thing so far." The men stopped, blinked, they looked at each other. They were the minister of defense and the minister of intelligence.

They opened they door to Vladimir's office. The office above all other offices. The office of the man leading one of the most powerful nations in the world. The door shut behind them. The desk in front of them was empty and the window behind it showed the height of the New Kremlin. This was one of the largest buildings in Russia.

Then they music played, the drums and violins had a powerful clearness of the intended tone. The Jaws theme played...

The Minister of Intelligence stopped, "What the-" Then a chubby, baby seal jumped from beneath a curtain onto the Defense Minister's shoe. Now the Defense Minister stopped too. "Where-". Things got even weirder. The Jaws theme stopped and Vladimir Durgamavich rose from under the desk. It was clear he was trying not to laugh.

Durgamavich was young, a mere 34 years old with a small mustache and black hair concealed by his cap with a brim that barely stuck out. It was quite a bit like a hat one might wear in the military. His uniform was as black as his hair the exception of his brown loafers and white undershirt. And for this reason he looked very much like a penguin.

Needless to say the Ministers were not happy about being made fun of and were looking skeptically at Vladimir. Vladimir picked up the seal. "Do you like him then?" The Ministers stuttered, was he even aware of the situation? The Intelligence Minister was first to react. "Where did you get that?!". Vladimir smiled, "In the Arctic, where else do you get a Wuk Seal in Russia?" "But why we're you in the Arctic!" "Because I felt like it" Every moment Vladimir's smile got bigger.

"I made a deal so I hardly was shirking duty if that's what you mean." The Ministers looked at each other, the asked in unison, "What deal?"

Vladimir lost his smile and put on a very serious face. "China..."

1 Hour Later

"You know when China is taken out of the equation and Turblansk is released we have a much more concentrated army, the full force of the red army will be able to clamp down on the DSP and Kaligula. Without Kaligulan ports Octavia, Kaligula, and any other power cannot supply a war effort in Scandinavia. Prizyetsa's islands can hardly support their own invasion of Issøy as they are. Kauvara is likely a diplomatic mission as I see it, Skyfleet poses no threat."

The room was silent. Vlad's idea was crazy, so crazy it was likely to work. A free state made of a colony... Part of it. Vladimir had stated that, "To avoid conflict with the ethnic groups of future Turblansk we will draw the borders based on the groups location." And so the strips of land near the Black Sea was to remain in Soviet Control. Still, the spot they gave up was a large on, between the sea strips to be kept and Armedland it was located.

What had been settled between the future leaders of Turblansk and current Russia was simple, Turblansk would resume its preoccupation government but with a high level of Soviet influence, however Vladimir was unlikely to ask or command much as he had little interest in dictating the new country much. In this way the Turblansk government would be like a dog, happily following it's senior without request. Russia would never ask anything of it, but Turblansk would 'obey'. As fact had it Vladimir would do everything in his power to 'nudge' Turblansk away from the USSR, simply because it would be more of a "Your ready to live on your own now" although relations would always be lukewarm at worst. The people of Turblansk loved Russia, but hated being part of it, the same way many feel about their local political parties.

Vladimir sat back in a chair, stroking his Wuk Seal as you would expect an evil genius to stroke a cat in an action/comedy spy film. The Intelligence minister seemed to be far more interested in the seal than the facts presented to him in the past hour.

"Turblansk has been officially released. We have promised to work together to benefit the people's of our nations. China has proposed a deal, and we accepted. Armedland and the DSP grow tired of war and will soon seek peace. Kaligula is our next issue. While we continue the defense of Issøy we will make a stronghold of every location of importance. We will hurl never ending blows and crush Prizyetsa's invasion. Kaligula though. We will adopt a policy, policy JS42. We will hold everything and unite the people. Our armies will be a blaze, everywhere, we will not lose this war." Vlad smiled. "Kaligula has airdropped spec ops. We estimate 1,500. But their used air transports and escorts sqaudrons have taken heavy losses though. They will attempt to disrupt us. I have given permission to the Army, KGB, and police to real down and detain those who are invaders. They will be stripped and taken to the workcamps of Siberia. No, we have little threat on the ground."

"What is a worry is their navy, the Red Fleet is unprepared and must organize. But we have adaquate defenses and surface vessels will be totally useless in the event of an attack. This sea warfare is likely to be one of submersible vessels. So, Minister, would you interpret this to be correct?"

The Defense Minister sat, he was in the limelight now. He thought... Durgamavich had two sides it seemed, a jolly leader with intention to create a utopia, and a military leader who was ruthless as he was cunning. He would never break and defend the Motherland at all costs. It was people like these the Re Army needed. "I would say that is an accurate assumption, sir. Our true weakness is under the waves. But we have minefields and nets. We have skilled officers and captains. One Russian is worth twenty Kaligulans, but there are twenty Kaligulans for every Russian. I say that until we can move the troops from the Chinese borders we will have a very even battle."

Code: Select all

SOVIET-CHINESE DEAL
-USSR publicly apologizes for the accident with the Premiers wife
-The USSR sells the Persian Strip to China for 5 billion dollars, the USSR retains trade access.
-China and the USSR begin joint economic talks.
-The Lenin's Line is dismantled and turned into a public museum for China and the USSR.

RED SQUARE, MOSCOW

The rally was massive. Almost every man, woman, and child had showed up. The young an the old contrasted in the crowds as much as black and white do. The streets were crowded with people, and the buildings were hung with banners and flags. This was a rally to hear another electrifying speech of Vladimir's. Vladimir himself was happy, he had demanded and organized this rally, his feeling of pride at the moment was unmatched by any other in the world.

He stepped over and onto the elevated podium, a barrage of cheering voices pierced the silence of before. Vladimir began.

LENIN'S LINE
Orlov took a swig from his flask. It wasn't a army regulation flask, it was his own, personal flask. It was filled with a weak alcohol, it was the thing that made him such a good soldier, at least in his eyes. He had won Medal of the October Revolution, twice.

"I can't wait, those Westerners won't suspect a thing, the perfect setup! We just pretend fight a few hours. Jammers have it all to the last detail. Nothing will be able to sense this fight. No radios, no satellite photos, not even thermal scans. They'll be blind as bats!"

Orlov was, in reality, a member of the Soviet State Special Forces. Part of the Spetznaz. So were 499 other members in this 'fight'. According to official records though there were 1,500 regular soldiers, all whom were fake. They had fake names, identities, medical histories, everything had been put in state archives. They even had fake families. This would be, in fact, the biggest play in human history. Orlov fired a few blanks, the Chinese army was on the other side of the river the Line hid behind. Good, very good, it looked like he would have missed. A few rounds which were also blanks came in response, all according to plan...

ISSØY

Airfields lay in ruin. Most planes were fine but wouldn't be taking off unroll the runways were fixed, that would take time though. Did the Sovietyeto have that much time? The attackers were wearing out their welcome now, the AA and coastal batteries were all on full alert now. It seemed that Prizyetsa though itself invincible. But there was hope, at least for now. The Russians had dug in to some extent and knew the land better, they also had numbers. They was still hope left.

SCANDINAVIA

The police were in all locations, every book and cranny was occupied, every shack and shanty, the police were out to kill, the USSR was loosing tolerance for Kaligula. They now had little to no mercy. And they could expect reinforcements now that China was no longer an issue. They had killed a good 60 or so. That was a bad figure. But they had arrested ten. 10 more convicts in the Siberian work camps. The camps that housed criminals, and many criminals were sent there.

Still there was another 1,450 or so commandos yet to kill, or arrest... They could expect any help, all the seas were monitored and now that the Union was aware another flyby by the enemy was now impossible due to additional AA guns. It was unlikely that Kaligula could take just Norway without obtaining extremely heavy losses if they could obtain it whatsoever.

Octavia however had proved less of a threat and more of a joke. They had never participated in a war and likewise had already failed their commitment to halt Kommandorian advance. They no longer had the element of surprise like Kaligula or Prizyetsa. If anything they were expected. In every major city soldiers were stationed. Any boat or plane would be shot if it was visible by coastal batteries or the AA. And in all the conflict DSP's ability to attack was the key, so that is what was to be bombed.

The police passed members of the air force. The police saluted, and returned to their jog to look for more enemies. The men of the air force continued, ready to beat the life out of the DSP.

When the war started the USSR had also issued a warning ahead of time. They gave it a month ago, it was far off of when they said they would attack. And many doubted there would be an attack at all. This now gave the Soviets the element of surprise. Even better, in a sudden blitz most soldiers stationed would be unprepared and most defenses would be taken out before they could retaliate... Hopefully. They were to couple with the air force closer to the DSP in two hours.

5 HOURS LATER

Planes hovered, lots of planes. Until the borders they expected little resistance. Maybe some, but overall it should be a cakewalk, still they braced for a dogfight. There priorities were as followed.

1- AA guns
2- Depots
3- Airfeilds
4-All Military Installations Not Already Stated

In a blitz they would try to take out 7 different major points, the lines of Kaligula and the DSP. This would pressure any ability of their nations to launch or supply an attack of the USSR other then the Kaligulan attack of Scandinavia. Range and logistics would come into effect. This was the moment of truth, and Russia had all the cards.

Planes flew further, the DSP's lines were visible now, but just barely against the falling purple of the skies. Time seemed to slow down. The raid had begun. First from the air, then armored divisions would divide the  
living into small pockets. Then infantry would make the next attack on the pockets. Outnumbered on the ground and ceaselessly pounded from the air they would have no choice but to surrender.


Note: I may change this post if I notice I have missed anything. Should be good though, so don't worry to much.

[Solgardt]

7th Solgardt Flotilla, SV Basilisk
Captain Flagsolt heard the reports. They were prepared. Their Kaligulan hosts were boastful, confident; their bravado showing steel resolve to the coming night. The Solgardtans manned their boast. Engineers, having been stationed in several of the Kaligulan Districts for weeks, worked with their Kaligulan hosts to ensure the first combat operations were a success. In the harbors, the 7th Flotilla spread out, creating a web of ships to create wider, subtly overlapping fields of fire. Their first combat action in the international war... Captain Flagsolt felt tension creep into his neck Kaligulan vessels, whose sailors did their nation proud, radioed between the flotilla to cooperatively arrange a defense pattern. Scattered throughout the coasts, the barrels and tips of untold numbers of weapons waited for their signal… the signal of war.
Captain Flagsolt’s father had been a navy man, a Admiral slain in the last Solgardt House war. Then it had been brother against brother, frigid arctic murder over resources and wounded pride. This was different. There was a grim pride in this: standing with a nation barely a year ago had been made an ally, Flagsolt and his fellow sailors were to stand with their counter-parts… no, more than that, Battle Brothers, against a foe they had never before faced.
Flagsolt called for Stand By, the fleet at alert. Their warning would come sometime in the night, ahead of the coming Soviet attack. The radio remained open, radio silence maintained until the raid alert would scream. Before the silence was initiated, as the sun set on the projected night, a secure cable was sent out to a fleet that had crept out of the night…

Uthgardt Mountains, Solgardt. TACCOM Array Room 3
“Your role in this is complete Director, all ships are in position.”
The Director looked to Admiral Pellok across the room of computers, wall monitor screens, and analysts monitoring the progress of the 3rd Fleet. The Admiral, along with a few other select TACCOM hierarchy, were watching as a loose, jagged line of red icons lined along a northern latitude, beyond Kaligula. The Director looked up from the analyst he was hunched over to give an annoyed glance towards the assembled commanders.
“May I remind you of the potential security risks that are posed with sharing tactical data with non-internal assets?” The Director, diplomatically hiding his reluctance to divide the power of his station to others… let alone foreigners.
Admiral Pellok chuckled. “COMSCAN is established, the pieces are on the board, and SIERRA and FULCRIM are transmitting. Our losses are projected and sustainable, and the payloads armed and ready. All we require is COMSCAN to remain locked and contact with FOXCOM for their command. Director, all you have to do is enjoy the show.”
The Director’s face soured visibly. “’F-OHQ’ should not be this involved in our military operations. I would have thought the… esteemed leaders of our glorious Navy would feel the same.”
Pellok considered the statement, an obvious complaint several in the High Command felt. But he smiled and stated the obvious: “We do so with trust in our benefactor. Our ally. FOXCOM possesses the most powerful military force we have ever witnessed, and they remain our partners in spite of our… national pride. Through them, we establish a precedent, one which speaks of cooperation and world peace. Regardless of temporary loss, we gain something better: trust.”
The Director said nothing, deflecting his desire to voice concern, valid yet pessimistic concerns, out of the discussion. It was far beyond the point of no return, and men and women of the Solgardt’s armed forces were prepared to do their part of the campaign, of a war that began long before their emergence onto the national stage. After all, the Director’s hands were tied, but that didn’t keep him from moving some of the pieces on the board into his favor.
An analyst spoke up, “We have confirmation from the Dauntless, FOXCOM has been established. Command authority has boarded to Joint-Operations.”
Silence fell over the room, disturbed only be the quiet beeping of electronics surveying Satellite updates of the global theatre of operations. Massive red blobs, green arrows, blue blocks, and teal directional indicators flashed over the display, showing a storm of untold destruction ready to erupt. The Director glanced over at the noise of rustling fabric, as he saw Admiral Pellok, and the rest of the High Command staff shift imperceptively. The Director slowly looked back at the display, and they watched.

And waited.




Kauvaran Airship Lumen

Colonel Drusus Tychus was in his ready room when the man he had requested knocked on the cabin door. “Come in.” He stated.
He looked up to see a short, stout man. His face starkly resembled that of a bulldog, and his uniform marking him as a Major in the Solgardt military. ‘Lord’ Major Puck stomped into the room, then saluted his newly commanding officer.

“Rord Mayjah Puck, reportin’ foh dutah, Sar!” The squat man barked.

Tychus was somewhat taken aback. “ ‘Lord’ Major…?”

“Puck. Rord Mayja Puck. Mah men are at te ready, Sar!” Puck answered.

Tychus said, “Major-“

“ Rord Mayjah, Sar.” Puck stated, matter of factly.

Tychus grimaced, “I apologize… Lord Major. We don’t have that… ranking in our forces. May I ask what it signifies?”

Puck nodded, “Karnel, I come from te noble Farf Hourse, and with dat comes te privledges of te station. I serve both mah nation and mah Hourse fer te glorah, and te honar.”

Tychus, incredulously, nodded. The last thing he wanted to do was alienate his top subordinate of the Solgardt colition force aboard both the Lumen and the Clade. He took the title in stride and attempted to press on.

“Lord Major, I wanted to invite you to the officer’s hall tonight, so that we can discuss our arrangement over our meal. The other officers are there, and I hope that we can come to better understand of one another. It is a long flight to the East, after all, so I wanted to better know the Solgardtans under my command.”

Puck did not lose his rigid, if low center of gravity, posture. “Sar, I would be honored to join you and yer offisah’s far a meal. I will prepar my strategah immediately fer yar approval.”

“I meant it as a social discussion. I want to understand your doctrines, your methods. I’m sure you would find the discussions with our officers just as engaging.” Tychus said with spread hands.

Puck paused for a time, then gruffly drawled, “Te men are readah. Ter equipment is securah. Te are redah fer te bluud, and te war, and the horra of te enemah’s death.”

Tychus was not sure to respond to the strangely accented Lord Major. He had spoken with Solgardtan officers before, and they never seemed to have this quite… peculiar, accent. “Shall we discuss it at dinner then?”

Puck nodded, “If it be yar wish, Kernal. Ah shall make shar the men ar properlah securah wit tear dutahs. Den we shall discush te glorah of war.”

Tychus, deciding he needed to do some research on the ‘Lord’ Major before he continued discussion with him, and dismissed the Major. Puck left, stomping out like a rooster. Tychus rubbed his eyes, and remembered one sentence on the dossier Intelligence had given him: “The Lord Major comes with the recommendation of Solgardt’s High Command, that he is specializes in frontal assault infantry charges.” Tychus, after seeing the man, wasn’t sure if it was an indication of courage, or insanity on the Major’s part.

Tychus, while keeping an open mind as custom of his people’s civilized nature, quietly hoped not all his Solgardtan troops shared this eccentricity.

[Prizyetsa]

"A good Navy is not a provocation to war. It is the surest guaranty of peace."
-Theodore Roosevelt-

Command Bridge, PPMS Feniks, Sea Approximately 120km South of Issøy

The fleet ploughed through the waves, which reflected what little light from the moon made it through the clouds. The fleet’s lights were all dimmed, helping them to stay hidden from the sights of unwanted guests and civilians which hadn’t left the area alike. The only ship which was well lit was the great aircraft carrier, PPMS Gralland, with its hundreds of green and red lights casting an eerie glow over the ship’s flight deck. To keep the Graland safe from attack, over 30 ships, numerous aircraft, satellites and a myriad of jammers were constantly on alert. Nothing would chip the sword of the mighty lady Prizyetsa.

“We are now receiving reports from satellite surveillance on the second wave of missiles strikes, admiral.” called out a soft feminine voice. The admiral turned his chair to face the holographic display of Issøy. All across the map, red dots appeared, marking where the missiles had struck their targets. “All primary targets have been hit with a 96% efficiency rate. The last target from the first wave has been neutralised. Shall I calculate the solutions for the third wave?” the voice asked, this time accompanied by a shimmering grey figure of a young woman made of light. The admiral held up his hand. “Not yet Nata, may I please have the status report on the second wave?” She bowed her head to the admiral. “Of course, sir.” She said in her soft voice, turning to face the 3-D map of Issøy. “All objectives targeted by the second wave have been neutralized, except for two of the military deposits located in Reykjavik center and the naval docks outside of the city. They have been retargeted for the third volley.” The admiral nodded. “And the airfield?” The map of Issøy zoomed in to a single location, showing a wide valley with a highlighted strip in the middle. The map slowly turned to show all angles of the 3-D model airstrip. “The runway has been disabled, however helicopters are still capable of taking off. The air strip’s fuel deposit has been targeted for the third volley, along with the defensive structures to the north of the airfield.” The grey figure extended her arm out in a sweeping motion, lighting up the several bunkers lining the edge of the airfield. “I assume you have chosen the appropriate weapon to neutralize those bunkers while still saving my ammunition?” The admiral asked, running his fingers through the back of his greying hair. The figure nodded. “Naturally admiral. I have sent an order through to the PPMS Gralland to launch a wing of ground attack aircraft armed primarily with thermobaric warheads, which explode in mid air causing a critical change in air pressure. This will prove fatal to those on the ground.” There was a short pause while the admiral thought. “Is there no other way? I mean, can we eliminate the defenses without killing hundreds of Soviet soldiers?” Nata paused for a moment, lost in her electronic thoughts made of calculations and simulations. “There is a way, although it would require time. I checked over the inventory list and the Gralland is carrying propaganda leaflets urging Soviet soldiers to surrender. Perhaps we could drop these over the enemy positions. If you choose to do so, I will place an order to have more sent from the mainland.” The admiral stood up and walked towards the holo-table. “I suppose that would work. Any sane human being would surrender under the pressure of a whole battle fleet. Ring it through to the Gralland Nata. I want the canister loaded along with the air-burst weapons. Our pilots will fly by once, dropping the canisters and make a wide turn to fly parallel to the defenses over the sea so that the Soviets can see the weaponry carried by the aircraft. If they have not surrendered within 10 minutes, give the pilots the okay to release the weapons.

On the deck of the Gralland, several Zee-Vos aircraft prepared to launch. Four aircraft lined up and locked into the catapults and the blast shields raised behind them, deflecting the jet wash from the next four aircraft which stood ready to launch. Several armements crews ascended on one of the carrier’s lifts, 8 bomb-like canisters on carts between them. The men sat on small ordinance tractors and rode out onto the deck to their assigned aircraft. Once they reached the aircraft, they opened the aircrafts’ hidden bomb bay doors and latched the canisters filled with propaganda leaflets safely to the aircraft. Once completed, they closed the doors again via a small control panel and evacuated the flight deck. The roaring of the jets’ engines raged over the deck and the pilots checked that all of their systems were operational. First their left flaps, then their right. Next were the rudders. Left, check. Right, check. The list went on, and once all systems were checked and functional, the pilots gave the thumbs up to the ground crew, and they were launched off of the deck by the catapult. Once they were airborne, the aircraft turned away from the flight path and made a wide pass over the fleet.By the time they had reached the carrier again, the next group of Zee-Vos aircraft were in the air as well. The Aircraft all grouped together and formed a loose chevron formation and flew towards Issøy. Underneath them, another barrage of missiles launched from the fleet, destined for Soviet hardpoints in the heart of Issøy to give the paratroopers some breathing room.

Propaganda Pamphlet (In English, Icelandic and Russian)

Soldiers of the United Socialist Republics of the Sovietyeto, lay down your weapons! Off of your coast is the Prizyetsi navy, and 25,000 hardened, well armed men of the naval infantry. If you lay down your weapons and surrender now, you will be treated well and allowed to return to your homes and families, however if you resist, the naval infantry will have no choice but to take your lives.

Do the sensible thing!
--
Hermaður af den Sameinaður Jafnaðarmaður Lýðveldi af the Sovietyeto , lay dúnn þinn vopn! Burt af þinn sjávarströnd er the Prizyetsi floti , og 25,000 herða mannskapur af the flota- fótgöngulið. Ef þú lay dúnn þinn vopn og uppgjöf nú , þú vilja vera skemmtun heilbrigður og leyfa til koma aftur til þinn með heimþrá og fjölskyldu- , hvernig sem ef þú standast the flota- fótgöngulið vilja hafa neitun val en til taka þinn búpeningur.

Gera den skynsamlegur hlutur!
--
Военное искусство яние) от грамматический определенный член Соединяться Социалист Республика яние) от грамматический определенный член Sovietyeto , уложить ваш оружие! Придает значение удаления,отделения,расстояния яние) от ваш морской берег быть грамматический определенный член Prizyetsi военно-морской флот , и 25,000 вещество,способствующее закалке,увеличению твердости металла видные люди военно-морской пехота. Если ты уложить ваш оружие и сдавать теперь , ты воля быть обращаться колодец и дозволенным образом к возвращаться к ваш тоскующий по дому,по родине и близкий , как бы ни если ты сопротивляться , грамматический определенный член военно-морской пехота воля вспомогательный глагол для образования сложных времен нет выбор только к брать ваш жизнь.

Делать грамматический определенный член благоразумный вещь!

If the soviets had any common sense or a will to survive, they would surrender the island. If not, the Prizyetsi navy would be forced to hunt down and destroy any resistance they posed on the island. The admiral hoped that it would never have to come to that.


Naval Office of Logistical Services-Vosonje Military Docks, Vosonje, Prizyetsa

The admiralty was bustling with activity, with the hallways echoing with the footfalls of officers’ shoes and sailors’ boots as they went about their business. In the heart of the admiralty building, behind layers of security, and several floors beneath the busy streets of Vosonje, was a quiet office in the navy’s most secure compound which was nicknamed the “Control Room” due to its secretive nature. In reality, it was merely another floor of the admiralty, which had had to grow downwards instead of up or out due to the restrictions placed on the Admiralty building for its cultural value to the city. Inside the office sat three officers and their aides, who were in charge of preparing a relief fleet to help Kaligula, and to replenish the troops’ supplies on Issøy, and move the essential equipment needed to rebuild the country after the battle. It was essential for the survival of the fleet shipping the supplies, as well as for the soldiers on Issøy, that the convoy got there with as few people knowing as possible. Of course it was inevitable that the convoy’s destination would be figured out eventually, but the false destination of the CDSP was given as a decoy should keep its true mission a secret. Or so the admiralty hoped.

“How soon can the fleet depart?” one of the men asked. “I’m not sure. Don’t you have one of your men on location in the harbor, admiral?” another asked. “Indeed I do. I’ll have him pay the harbor-master a visit...”


Vosonje Harbor.Master’s Office, Vosonje, Prizyetsa

“How soon can the ships be off?” a man in a black uniform asked the harbor-master in a thick northern accent, lighting a cigarette. “That depends on how fast the men work. Where are they going anyways?” the harbor-master asked, looking at the man cautiously. “Thats not important. Would you like a smoke?” he replied, holding out his open cigarette case, which contained several neatly lined up cigarettes, with only one solitary empty slot. “Yes please.” the harbor-master answered promptly, sensing that it wasn’t his place to ask questions. He took a cigarette, and the man lit it for him. “Thank you.” he said nervously. “No problem.” the man replied, smiling. Then, just as quick as he had showed up, he left again.

Vosonje Harbor Complex E, Vosonje, Prizyetsa

A group of eight large cargo vessels were lined up neatly at one of the docks of the military section of Vosonje port. Each was laden with supplies ranging from food to the military’s biofuels, volunteers for the reconstruction of Issøy, materials for the locals such as blankets, temporary shelters and construction equipment as well as Prizyetsi personnel which would aid in the re-education of Issøy’s social services from the Soviet system to a more democratic and humane approach to things. Along the docks, hundreds of dockworkers prepared for the vessels’ departure across the North Entas Ocean to the port of Kallas on the island of Sinnøy, one and a half hundred kilometers South of Issøy. They would form a convoy and make the journey across the ocean together with several escort ships including another Feniks class cruiser and two Hai class submarines, among the others were a handful of frigates and a destroyer which were destined to help with the defence of Kaligula with their strong sensor suites and powerful weapon systems. The trip was scheduled to take four days, if the weather would be as predicted.

“Damn, thats the MS Kallias, isn’t it?” one of the dockworkers swore. “You bet it is. She can make the journey across the Entas in just under four days! Shame admiralty is limiting her speed down to 29 knots, huh?” The first dock worker whistled. “Damn, she is a fast ship, isn’t she?” The second dock worker pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his overalls’ breast pocket, placed it in his mouth and lit it with a lighter which he held in his other hand. “You want one too?” he asked the first dock worker, who held his hand up. “Nah thanks. The wife wants me to stop.” he sighed in a tone of disappointment. “Damn shame. She has you by the balls, doesn’t she?” The first man nodded. “Sure does... sure does...” The second dock worker laughed. “If it's any consolation my sister has her man, Esias I’m sure you’ve met him, by the balls too.” Both men smiled and looked at one another. “Oh? What did he fuck up to get himself in that position?” The second dock worker took a deep drag from the cigarette. “Ja...” He blew out a long breath of smoke. “She won’t have sex with him unless he compliments her on her cooking, which as you also know, is absolutly terrible. Now she has poor Esias following her like a puppy giving her compliments on everything hoping that he’ll get lucky.” Both men laughed. “I want to stop her” the second man went on, “but I find it too funny to interfere with.” Both men said nothing for a moment, until the first man sighed, “C’est la vie, non?” The second man held up his cigarette in approval. “Indeed, my friend.” Another moment went by before the second man broke the silence. “We were talking about the Kalias, were we not?” The first dock worker nodded. “Ah yes. You know my cousin worked on her when she was being built.” The first man looked over, pulling a bottle of water from a thigh pocket in his overalls. “Oh?” he asked. “Yes sir. He told me that they installed some kind of new propulsion system onboard, allowing her to reach speeds of up to 35 knots.” The first man put the bottle back in it’s pocket. “No shit, 35 knots?” The second dock worker nodded. “35 knots, my friend. She is a fast bitch. And she can come to a full stop in 300 meters.” The first man said nothing for a moment. “Thats military grade performance, isn’t it?” The second man nodded. “Yes sir, it sure is.”

The ships’ engines started, creating whirlpools behind each of the mammoth ships. Sirens echoed along the docks, and the ship’s docking latches were released and the loading ramps and dock cranes retracted, giving the ships the freedom to maneuver as needed. The ships slowly pulled away from the dock one by one until they could all power forward and make their way out of port with help of the harbor tugs. As the ships turned, the secret to their speed and maneuverability was obvious. Their incredible speed was achievable due to the shape of their hulls, which were unlike anything the dock workers had ever seen before. Once the ships had reached the widest part of the port, a portion off of the sides of their hulls extended out, forming a giant trimaran configuration and lifted the main hull slightly out of the water, providing less drag. What was even more amazing was that the propulsion systems were located within the extended hull sections. The Kallias type bulk freighters were a marvel of modern shipping technology...

The freigters turned towards the canal leading to the sea, and sped off, leaving behind a vast trail of wake which sloshed off of the walls of the port’s docks. The aid had left Prizyetsa.

“The plan is actually quite simple. We land paratroopers in the North, they move to counter them and then we thrust in from the South with Naval Infantry while they are preoccupied.”
-Commander Lena Rolandson, leader of the operational AMD for Operation Torch-

Prizyetsi Military Aerial Convoy, Issøy Airspace

The aircraft flew in loose, well spread formations. In the middle of the mass of steel, titanium and aluminium flew a group of smaller transport aircraft accompanied by a pair of small dark grey aircraft armed with electronic warfare pods, nicknamed “Soup Pods”, which were masked by the darkness of the night sky. Together, they made their way over the ruined SAM positions which once guarded Issøy, and into the heart of the island. They would drop in the North of the island and try to draw the Soviet military on Issøy away from the South, where the Naval Infantry would land.

“I honestly don’t agree with you on that. What Sardal meant with the line, and those will rise from those who fall, is simply a tribute to the revolution. There’s no dark meaning behind it what so ever, and you need to keep in mind that this was written in the 1920’s.” The soldier next to him shook his head. “No no no, with that passage is that war is all-consuming, and that it's fueled by hate. By saying those will rise from those who fall, Sardal-” the second soldier was cut off by his commanding officer walking passed giving them the two minute signal. “Two minutes ladies and gentlemen, I advise you continue your debate on the meaning of Sardal’s poetry when we get our feet on the ground.” The soldiers nodded and strapped on their helmets and checked that their assault rifles were set to the “safe” position and stowed properly. “Hey, you mind checking my chute?” one of the men asked to his colleague. “No problem.” he replied, looking over his chute pack and tugging on the straps which needed to be taught. All of the paratroopers were standing
now, facing the back of the aircraft in two neat lines along the sides of the aircraft. The middle of the aircrafts’ cargo bays were filled with hard shock-resistant polycarbonate crates filled with food for the paratroopers, radio equipment, jammers, ammunition, heavy weapons and other equipment. Behind them sat larger crates which sat like baskets holding light armor which would be used to quickly transport the paratroopers once landed. They would all be ejected from the back, and guided by “smart” parachutes until they reached the ground safely.

“One minute!” the commanding officer yelled as the aft cargo door opened. A cold icy wind blew into the aircraft as it dropped beneath the clouds towards the unpopulated hilly region of Issøy. “Final check!” he yelled, ordering everyone to check their equipment one last time before the jump. The lights which illuminated the aft section of the hold turned from red to orange as the main lights dimmed to allow the paratroopers’ eyes to adjust to the night. Finally, the lights turned green, their eerie glow signalling that it was time to jump. In groups of two, the paratroopers tumbled out of the aft section, carrying the crates between them. As they rolled down the ramp, they dropped, and disappeared into the night. Once they were safely out of the aircraft and they were sure the crate was heading in the right direction they would let go, push themselves in opposite direction and pull their chutes. After a matter of seconds, their chutes would fully deploy carrying them safely to the ground.

Six whole battalions of paratroopers deployed from the large cargo aircraft, covered by the jammers active on the “Soup Pods”. To the West, a small group of smaller unmarked aircraft dropped to treetop level and opened their cargo bay doors. Inside sat their deadly cargo, the Administratii squads which would perform reconnaissance and quick harassment attacks on the Soviet patrols, and try to draw their attention away from the beaches to the South.

“Ready?” one of the masked soldiers called out to the others in the all terrain vehicle. Everyone gave the thumbs up signal and the soldier nodded. “Hang on them ladies and gentlemen!” he called out aggressively pulling a handle back. As he did so, the whole vehicle jerked backwards, being pulled out of the aircraft by the parachutes which by now were fully deployed out of the back of the aircraft. For a few seconds there was a sensation of weightlessness as the pallet holding the vehicle fell to the ground. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, the pallet hit the ground with a thud. Most of the impact was absorbed by the cushioning on the bottom of the pallet. As they hit the ground, they all looked at one another in silence. After a moment or two, they all started laughing.After a few seconds, they scanned the outside of their vehicle with their thermal overlays, and after they determined that it was safe, they got out with their suppressed assault rifles at their sides. Quickly, they detatched their vehicle from the pallet, and carried the pallet away into the bushes where they set it up as a small shelter for their vehicle. They covered it with underbrush and dirt and parked their vehicle inside of the newly made shelter. It would block any thermal signature the small truck gave off, and would hide it from the casual eye. A series of motion sensors and cameras in the forest around them would alert them of anyone or anything that got within 50 meters of them.

The same was done by all ten Administratii squads which had dropped onto Issøy, spread throughout the Western midland forests of the island.

Once the airmobile infantry (not Administratii, sorry for hopping back and forth) men landed, they quickly collected their chutes and created a closed space. The parachutes were dark green and charcoal grey, and fit well with the surrounding forests. Around them, they heard the thuds of the armored vehicles landing in clearings spread out around them, and the roaring of engines as they moved into the forest for cover, their pallets being collected by paratroopers to be used as walls for their temporary headquarters. All along the sides of the valley in which the Soviet airfield found itself, the Prizyetsi soldiers dug their trenches and set up their heavy 120mm mortars aimed down the hills into the valley. While the airfield itself was placed in a strategically sound location far from the beaches to the south where landings would most likely take place, it was poorly positioned to counter a paratrooper drop into the valley, especially a drop of this scale. From the valley’s hills, the Prizyetsi troops would have a perfect view of the airfield and anything that moved in the valley down below. The troops continued to unload and position their supplies, using the pallets which were dropped along with the vehicles as walls and roofs due to their tough resistant qualities, which had been a part of their original design.

Once the positions had been set up, the men unloaded the crates which they had dropped with them which contained food, ammunition, drinking water and other vital supplies such as medical equipment. Among the things unpacked first were the Inar shoulder fired anti-air missiles, which would prove a deadly weapon in the event that any aircraft would have been able to take off. As soon as these were set up, several squads of men were sent out to perform reconnaissance patrols towards the airfield, and if possible, meet up with any Administratii units in the area to confirm their positions with them.

From the top of the hills, the mortar crews began to prepare their pits for the coming barrage. They lay their high explosive mortar shells neatly in one row, and the flare shells in another. The flare shells would illuminate the airfield, and the high explosives would destroy anything which had not mobilised already after hearing the roaring of the transports’ engines as they dropped their deadly cargo into the valley. Line a star racing into the sky, the first flare shell soared up, illuminating the valley. Immediately, dozens more followed, replacing the stars with dozens of brightly lit shells which slowly drifted to the ground. The mortar crew adjusted their aim and began to bombard the airfield.

Ilanii knelt down on one knee, her silenced assault rifle in hand. (Back to the Administratii) Her team, code named “Rose”, were spread out around her, scanning the dark woods for movement or sound. Ilanii remained knelt, typing away on a small electronic device before collapsing it and stowing it away in her armor. As she did so, a picture of a Kauvaran officer fell out of her pocket. “Fæn.” she sighed, picking the photo up. She looked at it for a moment, her helmet’s visor compensating for the lack of light by creating its own on the inside behind the polarized visor, not giving off even the faintest hint of light. Satisfied with the work she had done there, she signalled her team to move forward through the forest. The squad moved silently, melting into the shadows until they reached the edge of the forest, marked by a ditch, from where they could see a small village. She signalled her second in command forward, and seconds later, another figure adorned in Adminstratii armor lay beside her, peering through the scope of his modified MR-4 rifle. “That should be Akureyri, am I correct?” she whispered over the secure comms link. The man nodded, pointing at her map. “Good. Hennedal, set up a beacon here, this is the first way point.” she ordered over the link. Without answering, one of the men crawled forward and placed a small black box on the ground. Next, he dug a hole and carefully place the box in it and then buried it. The first beacon had been set. The Airmobile Infantry Brigade could begin their advance. The Administratii squad wasn’t finished however. They would stay here and watch for any military activity in the town below. If there were any tanks, helicopters or troops, they would see them.

“No enterprise is more likely to succeed than one concealed from the enemy until it is ripe for execution.”
-Niccolo Machiavelli-

Sinnøy, Operation Torch Control Room

Screens overlaying information from the field, the fleet, satellites scanning the island to monitor troop movement and locations, and orders from higher up, although Prizyetsi commanders had extreme freedom to lead as they saw fit compared to other officers of the Darklands, lined the walls of one of the main halls of the main command bunker of the Far East Military District.

“How are we doing?” the tall woman asked. Even though her face showed signs of being tired, she still had a radiant beauty about her that kept many of the younger soldiers motivated even though they too had a lack of sleep themselves in the last few days. Hundreds, if not thousands of hours had gone into planning operation Torch, and every detail had been thought of. If one plan fell through, another would immediately go into effect, no matter what the scale of the blunder. “We’re doing good so far, everything is going as planned.” a younger officer replied, sitting back in his chair and wiping his head with his barett. “The first, third, fourth and sixth are on the ground with minimal injured and no casualties. The second and fifth have minimal casualties, one from the second got caught in a tree and broke an arm and the casualty from the sixth hit a rock upon landing and fractured his hip.” Commander Rolandson frowned. “I see. When can they be evac’d?” She walked over to his screen. He swiveled around on his chair to face her. “As soon as we can get a helicopter in from the PPMS Sauda, we can pick them both up.” She stood up straight again and smoothed out the wrinkles in her uniform jacket. Walking back across the hall, she sat in the large chair. Leaning forward, she carefully untied the knot in her boots and pulled the lip forward. Satisfied with the feeling of fresh air in her boots, she sat back and let out a sigh and sat back in her chair. “How long have we been here? I’ve lost track...” The junior officer stood up from his console. They were the only two in the hall at the moment, since the rest of the men and women were eating in the mess hall and the control room was on low staff, although they would be back in a few minutes. For now, the skeleton crew of ten would watch over the operation and troubleshoot if needed.

The first stage of Operation Torch, or Operasjon Fakel in Prizyetsi, would be to secure the plateau above the airfield and advance down the hills to secure it and eliminate any resistance in the area. Since intelligence suggested that the Soviet commanders were anticipating a naval landing, the bulk of the enemy forces would be positioned to the south of the island, and that is what Rolandson wanted to exploit. By attacking the Soviet forces in the north of the island, the enemy commanders would be forced to counter attack, diverting troops from the south or the cities, which would weaken the enemy. After the navy began their bombardment of the island, the morale of the enemy troops would drop. “Why waste your life fighting for an occupied territory when your motherland is under siege?” she thought. Hopefully, she was right.

“One's philosophy is not best expressed in words; it is expressed in the choices one makes... and the choices we make are ultimately our responsibility.”
-Eleanor Roosevelt-

Parliamentary Palace Støre-Rad Press Hall, Venji Capital District, Prizyetsa

Prime Minister Falasaami walked down the marble gilded halls of the Parliamentary Palace on her way towards the Støre-Rad (OOC Grand Assembly) press hall where she would address the press and people of the Darklands. Security was, as always, on high alert since Madam Falasaami would be addressing journalists from across the world. All equipment coming into the hall would be scanned and checked by hand to be sure nothing could come in that could endanger the life of the Prime minister.

Her steps echoed on the marble floor through the hall as she approached the large gold gilded doors which opened to the top of the main staircase where a small podium was set up to address the press. The huge doors opened and she walked out into the hall, being washed by the sound of hundreds of journalists raising to their feet, and the flickering lights of cameras. Standing behind the small podium she looked out over the crowd of journalists and members of parliament. Briefly clearing her throat, she opened her mouth.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to thank you all for coming today, as I am sure you all have other things to do. The reason I am holding this press conference to make an official statement in regards to rumors circulating surrounding recent developments between the United Federation of Prizyetsa and the Socialist Republics of the Sovietyeto.

As of two thirty-eight this morning, there exists a state of war between the United Federation of Prizyetsa and the Socialist Republics of the Sovietyeto. The decision to make a preemptive strike on the Soviet forces located on the occupied island of Issøy is the result of a long series of events leading the world into a war with the Socialist Republics of the Sovietyeto, which started with the occupation of what are known today as the Soviet Colonies. No nation has the right to suppress another nation for their own gain. No government has the right to massacre their own people for publicly outing their opinions. No nation has the right to launch a nuclear attack on another nation’s civilians and sit idly by as thousands starve as a result of your actions. As a result of this, the parliament of the United Federation of Prizyetsa has launched a preemptive strike on Issøy with the goal of liberating the island and restoring the island to its former self.

Once Prizyetsi forces suppress all elements of the Soviet occupation, we will begin with the reconstruction of Issøy, which will cover all grounds from infrastructure to the social system of a nation which has been brutally occupied for years since the Darksnow conflict. We will begin by restoring the public order of the nation by training, or in some cases retraining, the local police force and elements of the Issøy military to become more self sufficient while they work alongside the Prizyetsi military on the island to then restore the infrastructure of the island, which will lead to the restoration and independence of the Issøy economy from other nations and giving them the freedom to trade with whomever they want. After this is established, the local government will be set up in a new parliament building, and will be led by men and women from Issøy, chosen by the local population. There will be no interference from Prizyetsa in this endeavor.

While this will all happen, it must happen when the island nation is prepared to do so. Until then, Issøy will be administered as a limited autonomous province, which will allow a degree of freedom, but offer them the resources and security that the government of the United Federation of Prizyetsa can offer.

As a result of the change in diplomatic policies towards the Socialist Republics of the Sovietyeto, all Soviet citizens living within the United Federation of Prizyetsa and her territories are to report to the nearest police precinct to be sent to a neutral nation from which they can either stay or make their way back to their home country. I promise those of you who fall under this order that your personal belongings will not be touched during your leave of absence, and once the conflict is resolved that all of those who will have been displaced will be welcome to return to Prizyetsa. Those who have not done so within 24 hours or are incapable of doing so will be detained without question in special holding locations across Prizyetsa. I promise those who are to be detained that you will be treated with the utmost respect and housed with comfortable accommodations.

As an extension of this order, the embassy of the Socialist Republics of the Sovietyeto will be placed under permanent surveillance, and all diplomatic immunity for embassy staff has been officially revoked as of this speech, save that of the ambassador of the USRS to the United Federation of Prizyetsa, to make use of his duties as a diplomatic liaison between our two states.

I would also like to assure you the same conduct will be showed to Soviet soldiers on the battlefield. If captured, Soviet soldiers will be treated with the utmost respect, and treated with medical equipment if needed. They will then be detained for the remainder of the conflict. We, the United Federation of Prizyetsa, are a civilised country, and we will not tolerate any crimes committed on the battlefield, including the abuse and or execution of prisoners, and we would like to urge our allies in foreign lands to do the same.

Thank you for your time, my assistant will take any questions. Good day.”

Madam Falasaami stepped back off of the podium, turned and walked out of the press hall, the large doors shutting behind her. Once in the hallway, she made her way to her office, where her next order of business would take place.

“You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today.”
-Abraham Lincoln-

Office of the Prime Minister of the United Federation of Prizyetsa Falasaami, Parliamentary Palace, Venji Capital District, Prizyetsa

The Prime Minister entered her office together with two of her aides and a liaison officer from the Admiralty. What she was about to do was not necessary, but something she felt it was her responsibility as the Prime Minister of Prizyetsa to do. She walked across the large office, which was one one of the royal chambers, and stood on a large oval platform, which began to emit a light blue glow and her feet touched it. “Get me into contact with the Kauvaran Air Fleet, if you will.” she asked one of the aides, who bowed out of courtesy and left the office. Moments later, a figure appeared on another oval platform identical to the one she was standing on. “Director-General Michael Raines, this is Ingre-Mari Falasaami.” the figure stood up straight. “Good evening Prime Minister. What can I do for you?” The Prime Minister clasped her hands behind her back. “I am contacting you in regards to the incident which occurred after our fleet launched their missiles. As I understand, there was a lack of communication between us which resulted in the injury of several of your crew members.” The Director-General’s posture changed to a less serious one now that he knew what the call was about. “Yes m'am, we were forced to evade your missiles, but no major damage was taken. There were however some injured, although none are in critical condition.” Ingre-Mari lowered her head. “I see. As Prime Minister, I would like to personally apologize to not only you, but your whole crew throughout the fleet.” The Director-General nodded. “Thank you. I’ll pass it through to the fleet. I’m sure it will mean a lot to them, some of the men are still pretty shaken up.” “Thank you. Good luck on your mission Director-General.” He saluted. “Thank you mam.” he said, before flickering and disappearing from the platform.

The Prime Minister stepped down from the platform and walked to her desk. “Would anyone like a drink?” she asked the men and women gathered in her office. Noone said anything. “Very well.” she sighed. “Where are we on the invasion of Issøy?” she asked her military advisor. He stepped forward and handed her a folder, which she tooked and carefully removed the red strip from, opening it up on her desk. She eyed over the table of contents and opened to the page labeled estimated casualties. She read the document written by the advisor himself and put the folder down. “How accurate is this casualty report?” she asked him, removing a pair of spectacles and placing them on the desk. “We cannot predict them perfectly madam. It could be more, but hopefully it’s less.” Ingre-Mari stood up and looked out of one of the large windows that lined the side of her office into the Kaptolparken, its lush green trees giving shade to young couples and playing children spending their weekend in the sun. “Lets hope it is...” she said to him, and walked out of the office.