Smoke on the water

[Lamoni]

(OOC: Stevid, it's Lamonian)

-----

Picking up the Stevidian 1st Battlefleet on Radar caused a mixture of both relief and concern from the Lamonian Naval Taskforce. One the one hand, they weren't as exposed as they had been before, but now they had more ships to network with, and protect. Even more than this however, the Lamonians were dismayed at the obliviousness of an enemy who would simply not notice a massive enemy battlefleet that was sitting there, halfway to their targets. There hadn't even been any skirmishing attacks as yet. This could only mean one of two things. Either the enemy forces were incompetent (as always, the sailors were taking bets that this was the case), or the enemy was simply going to sit there on their homeland, and simply give the initiative to the Novan Coalition.

Either way, this lack of a move by the Blackhelm Coalition was going to cost them big. The HMS Ardent was quickly found room for in the Lamonian flag CVBG, taking position ten kilometers from the flagship, FRLS Rasul al Laylat. Full connectivity between the HMS Ardent and the Lamonian ships was established just as quickly as the electronics on the ships would allow. In return, a blinker light message was sent to the Stevidian 1st Battlefleet, offering the placement of the Type 30 Medusa Air Defense Destroyer FRLS Neptune in that formation, in order to fill the hole that the attachment of the HMS Ardent had left in their formation. Certainly a radio message could have accomplished the same thing, but everyone was so close at the moment, that it didn't really matter. Indeed, Rear Admiral Xavier Stewart, Commodore David Thistle and Commodore James Sultan of the Stevidian Royal Navy had come aboard via a King Arthur Helicopter, and were received by Admiral Ghates, Captain Strass, and Commodore Roydane. In addition to these officers, was an honor guard of six Lamonian Marines. With the ship's bosun using his whistle to sound the three note tune used to greet dignitaries, the Marines formed into two lines, and saluted crisply. Walking into the middle of the walkway made by the Marine honor guard, Admiral Ghates started welcoming the Stevidians to his ship with a crisp salute of his own.

"Welcome to the FRLS Rasul al Laylat, gentlemen. I am Admiral Ghates, Lamonian Navy. With me are Ships Captain Strass, and Commodore Roydane. We'd like to take you down to the CIC, where we can get you caught up on the situation to date." The Admiral would have said more, but the sight of one of the Stevidian ships launching missiles brought him up short. There had been no mention of enemy attack; and someone would have been sure to mention it to him. This mystery was solved when the allied naval battlenet alerted an operator to the threat, and the response. By the time that the Admiral and his party had reached the ship's CIC, everyone in the party had been informed of the situation. A holographic display had already been set up by some thoughtful soul, and was displaying the latest threat/response information.

"It appears that the Blackhelm Coalition is moving to make an all-out assault on Novan Coalition satellite networks. It's sooner than the planned joint attack, but this was not entirely unexpected," the Admiral stated. Indeed, the Lamonian Air Force was already readying aircraft with ASAT missiles, and getting them airborne as soon as possible. Most of these aircraft would be Am-24 interceptors, using their high powered engines to rocket them up into the altitudes required of an air-launched ASAT mission. While not currently seen in the holographic display, some five hundred Am-24s were being used in the first Lamonian full scale ASAT strike of the war, with each aircraft carrying a single tungsten tipped ASAT missile, designed to knock the target out of it's assigned orbit, many times forcing the target to burn up on re-entry. These ASAT missiles would add to others that were being launched, turning outer space into one gigantic battlefield. Those who could either launch more satellites, or those who could launch more ASAT strikes would be the ones to win this part of the war.

In the meantime, both the Lamonian and Stevidian fleets were waiting for still more ships to arrive. Once the others had turned up, the Blackhelm Confederacy would be shown a whole new meaning to the term "hell on earth."

[Imbrinium]

The open Ocean:

The 3rd and 6th fleets with their extra ships where moving at swift pace to reach the grid to meet up with their allied naval fleets. The fleet had picket lines out to protect the aircraft carriers and amphibs. Plus with all of the ships traveling with their radars on standby to be able to pick up any radar that where around them a great distances.

A voice came over the internal loud speaker

“Captain please report to the CIC”

The captain on the Helios deck watching and timing torpedo drills on to Anti-Submarine Helios.

An ensign runs out to give him the message that he’s needed in the CIC. The captain walks into the CIC and the chief of the watch walks over and shows the news about the civilian ships in the mine field.

Just then a radar tech looking at the radar images sent via the EW aircraft.

“I have two large fleets 200 miles ahead bearing one, three, and six"

“Where’s that on the chart?”

“That puts them about where we are supposed to meet up with Lamonian fleets and other allies.”

“Send the commodores V-22 over from the HMS Aeolus”

The captain walked over to the Commodore’s room and knocked on the door.
“Come in”

“Sir we’ve pick up two large fleets about two hundred miles out pretty sure it’s our allies I have you plane being sent over now and a CAP moving to contact to see if it’s our friends or not”

“Roger good man, have the admiral and commanders meet me here in one hour”

“Yes Sir.”

The call was placed out to the fleet admirals and commanders via ELF radios. Soon after commanders where packing their laptops and getting ready to meet there allied commanders for the first time.

15mins later a Cap of GR4 Tornados where flying toward the contacts. With their radars off they were being directed by EW aircraft to the area where they would drop down and from a camera under the nose of the aircraft they could see about forty miles on a clear day without the aid of radar.

40 miles from contact the pilots radio in

“This is killer 22 we have dropped down to sea level and have a large fleet of ships on screen, turning on IFF ID and radar before we are shot at they are friendly I repeat friendly ships”

Back on the flag ship HMS Coromandel the commodore got the word and him and his command staff took off for the Lamonian fleet.

While enroot to the Lamonian fleet the commodore had the pilot tell the Captain of the HMS Coromandel to radio the fleet and let them know they were coming.

[Allemande]

Official Diplomatic Communiqué

To all parties in the present Novan-Blackhelm conflict:

The widespread use of anti-satellite weaponry has already begun to result in collateral damage to the space assets of neutral powers. It is probably too much to ask the combatants not to wage war in Earth orbit. It is not, however, too much to ask the combatants to pay the rest of the world for the damage being done to the global economy as a consequence of this.

To that end, the United States of Allemande asserts its right to file damage claims against any party using anti-satellite weapons for restitution of damages suffered due to the loss of its satellite assets. This include, but are not limited to:

• Satellite and space vehicle replacement costs.
  
  
• Business losses and increased governmental operations costs attributable to communications failure.
  
  
• Business losses and increased governmental operations costs attributable to delays in conducting geological, hydrological, agricultural, and climatological research.
  
  
• Property losses and personal injury or death due to the unavailability of meteorological data for early storm warning, timely storm damage assessment, etc.

Should a combatant nation that uses anti-satellite weaponry fail to pay just compensation, as determined through proper arbitration, the United States of Allemande reserves the right to freeze the assets of its citizens and seize those assets in payment of any outstanding claims.

---

OOC: Folks, your irresponsibility is shutting down my space program and scr-w-ng up my future RP plans for this nation. Tone it down or pay through the teeth.

[Brewdomia]

180 C-17s with 150 troops, armor and ammunition and 100 modified A380's with 980 Troops were flying their giant masses to the Blackhelm Confederacy to prepare for the eventual invasion of The Confederacy. The troops inside the planes were filled with awe as before the flight mentions of millions of other troops to aid the Confederacy. Surely, such a monumental array of troops would surely be able to hold themselves against The Novan imperialists. The planes, giant humbling masses of metal, had flown away from conflict zones and had flown through areas where the enemies did not reside in. The planes, just in case, had several fighter squadrons and ECM aircraft to combat any assaults on the troop transports. The C-17's and A380's would fly until 750,000 of the finest Brewdomian Soldiers and armor were stationed in The Confederacy.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Over The Magnus Ocean

The B-2 Bombers, once the enemy squadrons gave up their chase, were given directions to land in The Blackhelm Confederacy. Meanwhile the F-15's that had been called in to aid to B-2's were now presented with a challenge. Either fight and have a chance to make a dent in the enemy or run and hope the enemy immediately gives up. After consulting with the base commander, the squadron leader decided to engage the enemy fighters after, a abnormally large squadron of F-22's with 45 Fighters arrived, that originally had planned to prepare a bombing run on the enemy fleet were now rushing in to aid the F-15's.

Space

The blackness of space was regularly disturbed by the occasional rocket launch, but now with the hundreds of satellites whirling around, a major disturbance was happening. After command had noticed the satellites targeted by enemy missiles, they presented themselves an ultimatum. Either take their chances with the sats and hope they reach their target in time or have the sats self destruct near their target and possibly destroy or knock the enemy sat out of orbit.

They had chosen the latter of the two and proceeded to let the sats self destruct when they were near their target. Meanwhile, the tungsten rods that had flown over Monavia and Nova began to exit Monavian and Novan airspace…

[Azazia]

Regenshavn, Iserlohn Province
United Kingdom

For centuries, the port of Regenshavn had been smaller and of lesser importance than the official royal port at Hansa. However, the arrival of Oceanian surveyors in the latter decades of the 20th century prompted the development of the city. Over time, the city government had directed development activities to the far bank to preserve the historic port and then to artificially created harbours near the mouth of the River Iser. And while the Royal Navy had all but abandoned the city to commerce, a small flotilla of patrol ships remained further upriver, west of the city.

On this day, however, those patrol ships were making their way down river towards the Straits of Shesharlie. And as spring was turning into summer, it only fit that the city was under the cover of grey skies and a light rain. The weather and wind were roughing the seas, and as the ships entered the Straits their sharp, flared bows did their best to shield the deck from sea spray. They failed.

After reaching the Straits, the patrol ships were met by an air defence cruiser whose air defence system would protect anything within a few hundred kilometres. In Georgetown, the Admiralty had deemed the deployment of the cruiser an appropriate show of force to meet the Lamonian rescue frigate.

Foreign Office
Georgetown, New Britain
United Kingdom

The long-legged, red-haired Stephen McKay took the few steps to the platform in one stride. He glanced about the media centre to find the familiar—though not always welcome—faces of the Foreign Office press corps. As Foreign Secretary, McKay always gathered the top reporters. He offered the flashing cameras and live-feeding video cameras a smile and then shuffled the papers waiting for him. He took a quick sip of water and then looked straight out at millions of people watching his statement live.

"The United Kingdom continues to watch the unfolding developments in Nova carefully. While the actions of the Blackhelm Confederacy cannot be condoned, the disproportionate response of many Novan nations in invoking the senseless Dagora Doctrine also can find no support in this country. Accordingly the United Kingdom remains committed to finding a peaceful and negotiated settlement to this wholly unnecessary conflict.

"And to show the resolve of the United Kingdom in pursuing the sensible option of diplomacy, His Majesty's Government has approved a request by the Lamonian government to host the survivors from those vessels struck by mines while sailing in the open ocean. We have offered the port of Regenshavn in Atrea as a port of refuge and the Foreign Office will despatch a crisis team to arrange transport for those survivors.

"Any military vessels or other forces seeking refuge in Regenshavn or any other Oceanian port will receive 48 hours. After those 48 hours have elapsed, any and all military vessels or other forces will be impounded for the duration of the conflict. They shall be returned at the conclusion of this needless conflict.

[Emperor Nero]

IMPERIAL PRESS RELEASE
New Manth Linked To More Crime Scenes

As most of the world knows by now, The United States of Allemande recently published a list of mined coordinates, which they claim to have received anonymously. We have not yet had the opportunity to confirm whether or not the coordinates are accurate. However, they do appear to be genuine so far as the information provided is consistent with the locations of known mine attacks.

The Empire wishes to inform the world that tracking data collected by our satellite network shows the Greater Economic Union of New Manth had naval vessels operating near all three minefields in recent days. Should the mine coordinate list hold up under scrutiny, this would add to the already existing mountain of evidence linking New Manth to the mines.

As always, the data we have collected will be made available upon request.

-----

Open Letter to Eirena Doukaina-Palaiologina, Empress of New Chalcedon

Dear Empress,

Please allow us to offer our condolences for the loss of life your nation suffered at the hands of that despicable minefield. Our hearts go out the families of those who will not be returning home.

In your recent public statement, you suggested our government not make any accusations without supporting evidence. We take exception to that statement. We have offered satellite imagery, sonar recordings, VHF recordings, and radar telemetry as proof of our claims for all to see. We note that your government has made no request to see any of that data.

Forgive us for saying so, but it appears your government is blinded by your bias for the Delian League. We can think of no other reason why you would presume New Manth innocent without so much as examining the evidence.

More importantly, we believe the recent actions of the Delian League demonstrate they are not worthy of the esteem you hold for them. As we speak, they are organizing the invasion of a sovereign nation in order to punish a corporation for violating an obscure regional law. Their space operations are putting the whole world at risk for a Kessler Syndrome. They are dumping space junk on urban population centers. Truthfully, we find it absurd that New Manth would use their reputation as their principle defense against our allegations while their alliance runs amok, pointlessly massacring civilians with space junk. Are we to believe the Delian League is comfortable butchering innocent civilians, but their strong moral character prevents them from laying minefields? We think not.

As for the strategic importance of the mines, it seems to us the mines would be strategically helpful to whoever knows their location and a strategic liability to those that do not. We can think of numerous reasons the Novans would lay those minefields:

a) To deter counterattacks against Nova
b) To damage the Griffincrest fleet that was returning to the Blackhelm Confederacy
c) To make it more challenging for the Griffincrest Corporation to sell and transport their oil

Once again, we offer our condolences for the tragedy you have suffered. We doubt it will be much of a consolation, but you should know that the spiritualists of our nation believe that losing one’s life for the benefit of others is rewarded in the afterlife.

-----

Imperial Palace

Leaning back in his favorite chair, Emperor Nero listened as his chief aide read the open letter they had just sent New Chalcedon.

“The crap about the spiritualists was a nice touch. About the space junk, I don’t suppose any of it landed within our borders?”

“Debris from a destroyed satellite did crash into a field north of Kampot, but there were no casualties aside from rice stalks. We haven’t recovered all the pieces yet, but preliminary analysis indicates a surveillance satellite. If the satellite warfare continues, we will probably take a few more hits, but it is statistically unlikely there will be any casualties on the ground. Our space assets are an entirely different story. We’ve already suffered damage to a pair of commercial satellites, and the ISC expects the new debris fields will require us to adjust the orbits of 27% of our network over the next year in order to avoid future collisions.”

“Assholes and their space weapons… Anything else?”

“Yes, one last bit of business, Your Grace. General Chow reports that our active duty military personnel have been mobilized per your direction. He wishes to know if it is your desire for reserve units to be activated as well.”

The Emperor thought for a moment.

“Instruct the General to make preparations as if the Empire itself was being invaded, and inform him that all the resources of the Empire are at his disposal including the reserves. That is all.”

Chi Lo nodded and bowed, then went about seeing to the Emperor’s wishes.

-----

SIC

To: Chancellor Blackhelm
CC: Cladius Griffincrest
Re: Strategy

The Empire has reached an important crossroad in this conflict, where we must choose between openly supporting the Confederacy and limiting ourselves to covert assistance. Obviously, each choice has its advantages.

Should we openly support your war effort, we could deploy 30 army divisions plus 720 fixed-winged aircraft to the Confederacy. Furthermore, our open participation would force the Delian League to consider the possibility of attacks originating from our territory.

Limiting our support to covert actions has benefits as well. The Delian League seems to have a warped perception of reality, where they view themselves as some sort of force for good in this world. If the Empire maintains the illusion of neutrality, it is unlikely we will come under attack. This could prove useful in the event your satellite network is overwhelmed and destroyed. With our network in tact, we could feed the Confederacy all the information it needs via submarine fiber optic cables, and the Delian League would be none the wiser. Furthermore, the appearance of neutrality would lend us credence when we apply diplomatic pressure on the Delian League. Most of their member nations are the sort that would like to avoid being criticized for reckless use of mines, causing a Kessler syndrome, or dumping space junk on civilian population centers. As a recognized enemy of their alliance, our criticism would carry less weight.

As always, the Empire stands ready to fight. You need only let us know which method of support you prefer, and we will commence operations immediately.

On a related note, Imperial military analysts have concocted a strategy for foiling the Delian League offensive. As you well know, nuclear powered vessels have virtually unlimited range. Cruisers, destroyers, frigates, and such tend to run on diesel, and typically have a range between 4,000 and 6,000 nautical miles. As it is unlikely the Delian League will be able to obtain fuel locally, their fleets will have to bring fuel with them using supply ships and fuel tankers. Those sorts of vessels generally move very slowly, possess minimal weaponry, are highly combustible, and are huge targets. If we can destroy those ships, their fleets will struggle to continue on.

Respectfully,
Chi Lo
Servant of the Emperor

-----

Elsewhere
- Task Force Zulu has changed course, moving towards the nearest New Manth carrier group
- The 4th Imperial Fleet is leaving the Tibecian Sea, moving south towards New Manth naval vessels
- The 7th Imperial Fleet is leaving the South Sea, moving south towards New Manth naval vessels.
- Three more submarine squadrons are leaving port. 75% of their payloads are mines.
- One additional submarine squadron is leaving port with a payload of torpedoes and missiles. It is headed in the general direction of the first mine incident.

[Lynion]

The art of war is of vital importance to the State.

~ Sun Tzu

When news came down from the ranks of communication officers that war was being wage across the globe, it would only mean that the Vamperial Kingdom would be drawn into another war. However, piroirties came first which meant protection of its allies rather than going blindly into a war. The full 20 legion's were called into full combat service, the Reserve Legion was called up throughout the colonies and the homeland to keep a lookout for enemy forces intending to enter Vamperial Kingdom's seas or air. However, if they were to risk for total war, they would need to use what resources they had to deal with the threat. This meant mercenaries from the Raider Alliance would be called up for service to buy enough time for the Vamperial Order to ready about 30 divisions (30,000 troops) to be deployed overseas. Once the 30 Divisions were deployed, 5 Legions (500 thousand in total) would follow in with plenty of support and to relieve the forces already staged there.

Lynion Islands, Lynscert Island
Vamperial Temple,
Around 1345 Hours

Vamperial Master Rathma Phoenix walked the hallways with the clank of his metal feet. His eyes turned from side to side watching various Vamperial Knights and Vamperial Masters go over possible battle plans and the layout of the country they were going to see. He kept up his pace before passing by several squads of Knights training to clear out rooms. Vamperial Guardians kept watch over simulations and practice fights to ensure no major injury were sustained. Rathma smiled occasionally in reply to the salutes he was given by the Knights, Apprentices, Guardians and Masters. Because of his pervious years serving in a rebellion, the Vamperial Order had locked his rank which meant he could only take a company out and not a battalion. It fruastrated him at times. He seen capable commanders take a battalion out to war and they were only masters. He felt he was being kept back from his true capabilities.

"About time Phoenix," started Grand Army Headmaster Jian Wallace while Rathma sat next to High King Vamp on his left and Shadow Order Grand Headmaster Drac on his right.

"Forget about how late he was," snapped the High Grand Headmaster Woff West as he sat next to Vamp and the pair were at the head of the Council. "As you know, war has being declared by a vast coalition of nations that are willing to take down the coperation bent on controlling the worlds vast oil supply. As everyone knows, only our allies know about our oil supply that is found neatly hidden on Union and so far we're being lucky," he contiuned as the Council looked at him. "Therefore, our meeting is going to be focused on the declaration of war against the coperation, supply the coalition forces with ships, supplies and mercenaries but go defensive or contiune to run as netural and stay out of the war," explained Woff knowing each Headmaster or Master (Rathma is the only Vamperial Master on the Council) would have their own thoughts.

"If we go to war, we won't be able to moblisie the legions for like a month," noted General Harris as he sat two seats the right of Jian, opposite of Rathma. "How do you purpose we deal with the menace?" he demanded.

"Simple," replied Woff. "We deploy the Raider Alliance as the main Lynion Force to fight alongside the Allied Coalition Forces while we rally three fleets and 30,000 troops with armour and air support to aid ground forces. By then, we would've dispatched 5 Legions to aid in the invasion even though we would be the smallest force out there," he answered.

"Will the Raider Alliance accepted this?" Shadow Headmaster Sherman asked Woff.

"I've already put forward the purposal and they jumped to the offer and accepted it," replied Woff as some of the Headmasters nodded while others doubted the Raider Alliance would keep its word. "Admiral Kennedy has taken a fleet of his own and two fleets of the Raider Alliance to join up with the Coalition Forces. They'll conduct a gurrellia war on the land, sea and by air. Their aim is to cripple the enemy and cut off the supply runs. If they can strave the nation slowly, the land warfare might be able to succeed," he explained.

"If we're to send 500,000 troops into the BC, why don't we dispatched more?" asked Naval Headmaster Sims.

"Simple," replied Woff. "Our forces will be focused on cutting off the supply runs and communication locations to give the Coalition Forces a better chance of hitting their targets quicker and more effective. Our major forces will be air and sea forces," he answered as there was little else to talk about.

"Headmaster West," started Rathma as he caught everyone's attention. "Will Special Forces be taking part alongside the Coalition Forces?" he asked as Drac looked at Woff for a moment and raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't tell him did you?" Drac asked in a chilling voice as Woff clean forgot about the decision the other Council Members had made.

"The Council Members have decided it's time we give you a battalion of your own to use in the battlefield," he explained as Rathma smiled gently. "Jian has a range of Battalions that require commanders and you can have first choice since your one of the most experience commanders in the field," he concluded. "I wish everyone luck and my God save the Kingdom," With that, the meeting was closed as Jian and Rathma went off to another part of the temple to dicsuss Rathma's first battalion.

TO: Coalition Forces in the Field
FROM: Vamperial Order of Lynion
ENCRYPTION: Extremely Heavy

Dispatched three fleets to aid the Coalition Forces in the field. Sorry for the delay but the admiral will be able to explain further details once they arrive. I wish everyone the best of luck and may God save us all.

[Blackhelm Confederacy]

The message from Emperor Nero had carried much weight in the Senate and the Griffincrest Boardroom, occupying several days, days spent elsewhere calling up reserves and further bolstering the defenses of the nation. Everyday, more men were making their way into the recruitment offices as more allies touched down on runways across the country. The Coalition was depicted as villains, coming to the Confederacy to loot and pillage the nations ancient art and culture. Most of these posters did not have writing, seeing as most of the country was illiterate, but they still carried a strong point, and an entire department was dedicated to this field. Many other posters appealed to the religious aspect, displaying the Coaltion as godless heathens coming to shatter the peaceful Christian way of living. High Command promised the Chancellor the Confederate armories could accomodate up to a quarter billion men within the coming year, a number which gave Lucius all the more faith in his victory.




The Senate had finally made their decision after a long and hard debate on the Emperor Nero issue, and a response was sent back.

To: Emperor Nero
From: Lucius Blackhelm

The debate has spent many sleepless nights trying to decide the position of your nation in the coming conflict. We do not wish to see any of the sons and daughters of your nation fall victim to these hordes that mass against us, yet we also fear that your word may not be listened to, due to past friendly relations between us. As such, we have made a hard decision, but one that we feel will be the most benefical to both nations. We have decided it would be best if you stay officially neutral, while providing us information. Should any harm befall your countrymen an women, however, I ask that you fully become involved.

Thank You,

Lucius Blackhelm

As the message was being sent, dozens of Typhoon Class submarines slipped from their births around the world, and began heading for their mission. They were all loaded up to the gills with RPK-7 missiles, and were planning on hunting down and killing any straggling escorts, but their main objective was the enemy refueling vessels. Hitting these would do much to slow down the Coalition advance, and thus buy more time for the Allied forces to assemle even greater forces.

[Allemande]

Near the Stricken Confederate Ocean Liner Pax

Unfortunately, Allemande had no vessels close enough to the sinking vessel's position to be able to render assistance in a timely way; but that did not mean that nothing could be done. An Allemander C-20 "Atlas" medium-heavy cargo transport was dispatched with a supply of inflatable rafts, emergency gear, and provisions to overfly the liner's last known position. The Lamonian Frigate FRLS Dragon was informed of the drop, and it was hoped that the Lamonians would be able to get some people into the water by helicopter to aid the passengers in getting aboard the added rafts, organising the dispensation of supplies, and other tasks of that nature.

[Damirez]

DLN Codex.
Delosian Sea.
Nova.

The Union class carrier held still, unmoving on the calm waters of the 'Home Sea' as sailors of the League and Damirans alike named the Delosian Sea. As men and women scurried across its decks, performing checks, fiddling with minor details and even performing the ancient rite of scrubbing the deck, the sip was waiting. There was but one, final piece that it needed before it could set sail and join the other of its kind. It was waiting for its commander.

DLN Codex, by virtue of serving under Admiral Yves before, had been selected as the flagship of the Fleet. The crew and officers were already familiar with the Admiral and his methods, his preference for carriers, as opposed to the giant Longsword ships of the fleet, known well, even though in his quality as admiral, he was expected to direct the operation from the two massive ships assigned to this fleet, the Equilibrium and the Restitution. Yet, as to prove that he too was one of that generation, he had invoked the traditional, if rarely used, right to select his own flagship, and he chose the Codex.

For the sailors of the Codex, it was an honour, and if asked properly, they'd admit to a certain amount of apprehension at the news. It wasn't unheard of for the flagships of a fleet to be the first targets that an enemy aimed for, even if in this particular case, the insanity of such an attack would very well cost them fleet and war as the fire power of the League fleet would have ripped them to pieces. Still, the perspective of being the target of an entire enemy fleet was rather frightening, but at the same time, and this you would have no trouble in revealing, exciting for the crew. One would have to assume however that in order for this scenario to develop, the enemy would first have to become aware of the name and location of the flagship.

Finally, as even the most remote of locations, as all surfaces were polished once more, the sound of a helicopter announced to the carrier that the Admiral was finally on-board. The greeting comity was rather simple, just three officers and two marines, and the admiral brought equally few of his staff with him. Those that were needed were already here, those that would be needed would join the fleet later on, or, as most likely was the case, were already spread across the ships of the fleet.

There was one thing that the admiral was known to do as he joined a ship, and that was to rush with great haste towards the command deck. He didn't disappoint in this particular instance either as after exchanging a quick salute and a few handshakes with those waiting for him he rushed towards his known destination.

"Attention!" that was the only warning the crew got as the admiral passed by as a whirlwind, a quick salute and polite smile the only signs that he was aware of them, but that was enough for a smile to crack on their serious faces as soon as he was out of their sights, followed by full blown laughter as they made sure he was out of hearing range. "Saw that?" they teased one another, "He looked at you! Didn't iron your uniform, ai?!" they joked, already aware of the admiral's obsessive compulsive behaviour when it came to order. Behaviour that oddly enough, vanished as it was never there once he found himself in the heat of battle or similar such circumstances. Behaviour that they were sure no other ship of the fleet was equipped to handle.

It was only as he found himself at the 'helm' of the Codex that Yves stopped, his eyes, critical and inquiring checking every detail, every collar, button and shirt on those inside, every system, chair and screen before he finally allowed himself to cut the tension as all turned out exactly as he wanted. "Well, you've been keeping her in good shape," he spoke, giving the young captain of the Codex a rather strong pat on the back as a way to express his satisfaction.

"Yes sir, we've been doing our best," came the reply from the captain, not in the least intimidated by the Admiral's showmanship, having served before with the man. "Kept her in one piece," came the obsolete joke, a fleeting memory of times that the captain never experienced, but which the Admiral recalled as the fires of the forge.

"Good, good," he replied, "Now, what's she waiting for? Time to join the fleet!" he plopped into a chair enthusiastically as he listened to the crew move as the well oiled machine it was. The plans for the departure and itinerary had been already established in an office under the island of Delos, and now the ship finally moved.

Days Earlier.

"Given the fact that the Lamonian and Stevidian Navy have already established a rally point, I think Route #3 is the best one we could take," already various proposals and plans were spread on the table as Fatima and some of her most trusted Admirals sought to pick the best option for moving so many ships.

"Agreed, that way we can assemble our fleet in the Sea of Harmony and have the Eastern Novan groups join us in the Great Northern Sea," like many others, the admirals made no hesitation in using the holographic technology made available for command in expressing their ideas, already a hologram depicting Route #3 appearing at the centre of the table.

"What do you think Yves?" Fatima asked the one that was in fact commanding the entire operation, his silence unnerving, even as he was expected to be the one most vocal about the pathway the fleet was going to take.

"Route #3 sounds good, that way we can pick up the ships from the Northern Fleets of the League and insure a cohesive movement of all forces involved," he pointed the other fleets to be involved in this operation, the softer blue triangles dispersed across the display, "It will allow us to prevent any response in strength before we amass all the fire-power we have available, but still.." he stopped as an older concern came back to mind, "The shortest route remains Route #2 and we'll need full control over it to insure our supply flow."

"Yes, there's already been some incidents with some mining operations in that area," one of the admiral spoke, everybody aware of the innocent ships caught in the minefield. A minefield deployed in international waters with no regard for he safety of neutral shipping and the lives of citizens of nations unconnected to this conflict. "We've been keeping a close eye on what's happening there," he continued, "And we've already started clearing the seas of mines," a creepy smile appeared on the man's face as he added his next words, "Plus, our submarines are going to be busy for the next couple of months."

The outlines of that particular segment of the campaign were well known to Yves, even if he wasn't the one in charge of it, supplies and their uninterrupted flow and integral part of a successful operation.

"You can rest assured within Novan waters too," Fatima completed the other admiral's subtle message, "With ORB fully operational, even dropping a pin would be noticed." It was not hard to believe that, the massive sonar arrays pertaining to the League, the de facto search and destroy missions of the League and DNF ships leaving precious few hopes for enemy submarines to hide.

"Just remember," someone found the time for some further reflection, "They're going to play dirty, so be prepared for just about everything."

As a result of the meeting, plans were reassessed, prospects were rehashed and the fleet finally started moving, the vanguard of the fleet far ahead scouring the seas for mines and other such unpleasant surprises, the rest soon to follow at full speed, prepared to trounce and destroy everything that stood in its path.

Seven thousand vessels, seven thousand platforms for the message that had to be delivered.

***

Maha.
Principality of Damirez.
Nova.

The air was thick with tension, thousands upon thousands of men added to the population of the harbour town, trains and trucks arriving daily in an orderly fashion, planes unloading machinery and ships loading expensive cargo, soldiers marching in an orderly fashion and civilians taking an interest in what happened on the other side of those 'fences'. It was easy to be curious, so much movement, so many good looking soldiers for young women to look at, so many women to draw your attention if you were a man, and all enjoying their moments here to the greatest of extents.

Maha, unlike other similar cities, avoided the fate of integration in the sprawling Sarasvati metropolis, its position North West of the great city and the excellent natural conditions, making it an easy choice for a major naval base, boosting the population of the town and giving it unprecedented importance and renown in this particular area, enough to bar the advance and integration of the community in the political structures of its greater neighbour. And whilst all considered themselves Sarasvatian Damirans, there was a certain amount of pride in saying that they came from Maha.

So it was with a blend of Sarasvatian calm and local excitement that the troops flowing into the city were greeted, some choosing to ignore the happenings, others rushing headlong to witness the movement.

"Look!" a couple of boys, not yet teenagers, perched rather perilously on the rooftop of one house in the middle of the base pointed at a column of men moving for inspection, "The Berets!" even from a distance, the sea of lavender unmistakable for what it was, a company of the Lavander Berets of Sarasvati. "Dad's going to command those!"

In all truths, if one were to witness such a scene, the first thought on his mind would be that operational security got swept under a rug. Children!? Children allowed to witness the inner workings of a military base? What was there to prevent an enemy spy to take all the notes he needed then? If it was so easy for a child to to reach such a point, a better trained individual, with a much more malevolent intent was surely not going to have any issues.

But the situation was not as it first appeared. Not any child would get to see the units of the Damiran army at rest or parade on a daily base. these were army brats, children of officers that by nature of their parents jobs got dragged across the nation each time the assignment shifted, each time having to start anew in finding friends. Children that from an early childhood understood the world in a different way from other children. And some of them, already familiar with the whispered prayer of the lone parent at home for a safe return.

Yet, for all that, boy would be boy, and in this particular case, girls would be tomboys and curiosity alwasy got the best of them. Where parents thought they need not know what loomed across the horizon, they felt it in the gestures of a father or mother. Where others toyed with plastic tanks, they watched in awe at moving columns of them and wondered. Where others dreamt of doctors and pilots as they were to grow up, they dreamt of Berets or Legions and it was not hard to believe that in ten years time they would be the ones on the grounds in the base they looked, wearing the symbols of their unit with pride and conviction.

"Children," for now though, they were still young, and far away from the realities they were witnessing, "What are you up to?" one of their mothers interrupted their espionage session and the company of Berets continued its activities, without the young 'spies' monitoring their movements for the rest of the day.

The company of Lavender Berets was just one out of the many composing the two divisions assigned to this operation. They were a sign, not as much to the enemies of The Principality, but to its allies, that this conflict was treated seriously and a show of respect for the millions of allied troops that were going to share the fire with the Berets. The history of the unit, and its significance, was well known amongst certain allies, in particular the Arcturians and as the war fully ignited, so it will become to the rest of The Principality's allies.

The two divisions of berets were but a part of the commitment of the nation. In light of the partial mobilization, several units had been 'liberated' from their usual duties of giving stares across the border at the Atrean equivalents and assembled for departure. An entire army, fully equipped and armed was loaded even now, the officers at high command intent, in a bit of friendly competition, to show the speed of and efficiency of Damiran logistics compared to that of allied nations. And given the fact that one day the units were still at their bases, with only a fortnight warning that something was brewing, and another they were already loading, it was indeed something to watch.

In the harbours of Mahe, a proof of the effort was the long hours put in by crane operators. The equipment needed by the men fighting in this war was to be transported mostly by sea, and when so many soldiers needed to be fed, dressed and armed, there could be no delay despite the obvious fact that the enemy would do its best to impede said efforts.

Supervising the entire process, in a telling example of commitment, was the one of the Principality's most know commanders, Alexander Suvorov, decorated with the title of prince, and, after heated debates, mostly with Flavius Belisarius, the one selected to command the Damiran contingent in this undertaking.

"Sir?" there was a certain technique in opening a conversation with a military commander deep in his thoughts, as Alexander was following the inspection on the Berets, "All Legions report that preparations are complete," it took just a small nod, usually pegged as unimportant, for the staff to receive permission to continue, "The rest is moving according to the schedule."

"Good."

***

Mithras.
Principality of Damirez.
Nova.

"The report on Yaforite response on my desk, yesterday!" the secretary barely managed to raise her head from the screen at the sudden interruption, the man behind the voice already several rooms away voicing orders to other employees in the ministry. "No, Oceanian response and implications, Ilya's going to handle that!" It was, usually, a good job, plenty of interesting experiences, quite a bit of travel for half a year, the other half taken care of by the other secretary, interesting challenges and intellectual stimulation. However, there were also times like these, when for all the efforts they submitted, it appeared as if it would never be enough.

She was quick to print the requested file, and to email it to her boss's office, just in time too as hurricane Wallenstein, as they fondly named him during such periods returned from his 'trip' around the building. It was easier for him to request the file by mail, but they long since knew of his preference to stretch his legs in the most productive ways as possible, and given that the lights in the office were on both late at night when they departed for home, and early in the morning when they returned, it was quite obvious that he needed a bit of movement.

"Coffee, black, strong, out of it." Andrew afforded a moment to place a request before entering his office again as he stopped in front of her, "File?" before asking her about the dreaded addition to his paperwork load.

"Emailed," she responded, "All comments included, standard markings, the think-tank sends its regards as always," she didn't miss his look of exasperation at the remark, and after witnessing first hand the kind of 'regards' the guys assigned to these particular issues liked to add she couldn't blame him. "Coffee's already on its way," she finished, having taken the time to phone for fresh coffee.

"Thanks! You're a life saver," for the first time this day his voice sounded softer, appreciation conveyed for the gesture, "Unless it's the Armageddon, nobody bothers me!" she watched him as he dove in his office, pretending not to hear his mutterings about paperwork, work load and 'responsibilities'. For a man that was rumoured to be the next foreign minister, he sure had his moments.

Inside the office, Andrew braced himself for the avalanche. It was one of the things he hated most about his job. There were thousands of nations, tens of thousands of entities and countless other factors one had to take into account when making a move on the world scene. Unfortunately, the need for centralization meant that no matter how detailed, how complex the analyses on these factors was, no matter how many people worked on it, they needed to reach a focal point. And currently, in the midst of a major war, of a diplomatic storm, that point was he.

It was easy to question the logic behind the impressive requirements that Davout had for him, especially as they left him exhausted and tired, but knowing that his mentor had to face these type of circumstances many times before, he couldn't hold a grudge against him. The problem was however with the fact that the accumulated responsibility was beyond anything he had dealt with before, and even if Davout's system worked, as proven by the minister for so many years, would it work with him?

The subject had been approached before, without a definite conclusion, and the thought was banished at the sight waiting for him. The fifteen minutes away from his office were enough for a collection of emails to litter his inbox, all but one, which funny enough, if the header was to be believed, talked about stress at the workplace, important enough for him to check and reply. From reports to reminders, it was as if the entire Ministry wanted a piece of him!

And the first on the things to do, the very report he had asked for.

"So, let's see about the Yaforites," he started reading. Andrew's experience with Yaforite diplomacy was rather limited, especially in light of the fact that he was assigned to what his superior named 'easy' tasks, such as dealing with war hungry nations, trying to convince the Animarnians not to make full use of the Alexa doctrine, conferences about slavery with some of the worst slavers in the world attending and many such as those.

At first, as many other naive débutantes in the fine art of lying with a straight face, also known as diplomacy, he had taken to the fact with astonishment. Weren't the Yaforites neutral most of the time? Diplomats? Rather friendly to The Principality? Tangled up in their own politics that they simply didn't have the time to represent a problem of such magnitude that they were placed in a different section, above such as Doomingsland for example?

It was Emilian Davout that cleared that up for him, in just a few sentences, the conversation then permanently etched in his mind.

"Don't try to understand the Yaforites by following the facts," the man had said then, "It's not all there is to them. Understanding the way they think is..." and even the great diplomat paused at this, "An acquired skill."

"But.." and his question then sounded so foolish now, "How do we deal with them."

At this, Emilian afforded himself a chuckle, before continuing, "Well, we were rather lucky there. Some of our more, let's say 'seasoned' members, have had the opportunity to serve with the Atrean Diplomatic Corps before the Empire went to rubble, they've done their best to help us evaluate the Yaforite political attitudes and since then, we've come to understand quite a bit about them."

Then again, the president happened to have a different opinion on the Yaforites, "They still think themselves in the "Age of Two Empires," the man had said, "And as such, everybody's beneath them, with the possible exception of the Atrean, because it took a lot of poison to stop the Imperials from assaulting their shores, and nowadays even they lost a bit of standing."

And it was with knowledge of the two diverse opinions that he tackled anything involving Yaforites, and lately, there were a lot of reports regarding them.

Predictably, Eliana was against the war. The political alliances of the Yaforite leader at the moment afforded for nothing less, her alignment with the lefties quite unfortunate for The Principality. But even so, it was somewhat doubtful that even with proper support she would have chosen another path. The Yaforite nation was no stranger to war, the costs of the affair in Sarnia, the military build up in Buchiana going a log way to contradict the expressed opinions of their leadership. And in addition, it was quite clear that there was a certain amount of hidden desire for the Old Age to return.

It was quite unfortunate that the LCP, the Yaforite party that had most Damiran supporters wasn't in a position to interfere, and that had become a rather important issue on the agenda, further political movements and agreements aimed to reflect the shift.

The report was a quick read, and for once, Andrew thought he'd have time for a quick nap, but just then, a new email arrived. The title was simple, however the name of the sender made it quite clear that it wasn't as simple.

'Mines' - Davout

Open Message.
Re: Mines in International Waters.

In light of the current events and of the loss of life caused by the placement of mines in international waters, we would like to address the accusations directed at our allied nation of New Manth, and indeed at the League as a whole. But before that, as a representative of my nation, I wish to express my condolences for the loss of life caused by this criminal action. Whatever available assets and resources we have at the moment will be directed to contribute to the relief efforts.

We were surprised to witness the interest manifested by the nation of Emperor Nero in the current affair, the vitriolic accusations of a nation in appearance neutral to the ongoing struggle. But we are further surprised to witness the fact that the arguments used in their proclamations defy reality and resemble those made by the Blackhelm Confederacy.

#1 To begin with, according to the Neroian diplomacy, the accusation comes as a result of observations made by ships and assets pertaining to their nation located in the affected area. Without questioning the peculiar interest of the Neroian navy in that particular area of the oceans, we would like to inquire as to the following issue.

Given the fact that immediately after these allegations were made, the New Manthian government offered to allow inspections of its ships from a neutral party, we have to ask, why not the same for the Neroian ships? What did they have to hide?

#2 One of the arguments used by the diplomacy of both Emperor Nero and of the Blackhelm Confederacy is that the mines were placed there in an effort to prevent the retreat of the Griffincrest fleet that intruded upon Novan Waters, the heavily armed fleet that was supposed to pursue a survey mission with guns and missiles.

We have to ask. If such was true, then why is it that the first incidents appeared long after the fleet crossed those waters?

#3 Another argument addresses the issue of said minefield being placed there to deter attacks against our region. Given the rather limited mined area and the vastness of the ocean, the statement is certainly interesting.

And why is it that the League and allied nations would mine an area of the Ocean that is expected to see heavy traffic of their own in the near future?

We are curios as to the answers to our question and as to why is it that the sonar signatures tell a different story.

***

Pollux - Unspecified Location.
Principality of Damirez.
Nova.

"Purple Sky," the codeword came, announcing those nestled deep into the mountain that war was coming. It was all it took for all the personnel of the base to prepare. Already the installation was in lock down, security and caution heightened to new degrees, the cards kept close to their sleeves. Few knew about this location, layers of security laid around it to increase the level of protection, and for good reason. Far away from the front lines, far from the troubled seas and the skies of flame, the men and women serving here were in fact the first to experience the taste of war.

Theirs was a different kind of war.

It was a sterile, distant clash, casualties recorded in numbers and costs and not in body bags and injured men. Impersonal, distant and without effect, such was the conflict they waged, yet, despite the fact that no life was lost in their engagements, they knew but too well that there were consequences to their actions. One misstep, one flawed correlation or mistaken interpretation of the available data and countless would die as a result.

For theirs was the kingdom of the heavens.

Pollux was one of the ring of installations dedicated to what The Principality named 'Orbital Warfare', created to control and coordinate a war far above the sky and eye. Its moment of birth, decades before, saw the nation contemplating for the first time the use of weapons in space on a massive scale, the fright of the possibility enough to garner a massive response, well in tune with the Damiran need for exploration and protection of the nation in all aspects. With time, as more and more installations were added, the focus shifted from a defensive one, aimed at securing the nation's own assets, to a more offensive one, the fright of the Succession Wars enough to give credibility and importance to this particular aspect of warfare.

As time went by, the base saw further upgrades added, its capabilities increased at a level to coordinate actions larger than those normally assigned to it. It was redundancy in its most simplistic form and the Damirans kept adding. Even in the unlikely event that all but one of the bases designed with Orbital Warfare in mind were to be disposed by an enemy so powerful that he was beyond The Principality, the activity would still go ahead, one installation, even if under serious pressure and stress, would be able to handle the effort.

This was the reason why Pollux had been designated as the nerve centre of the current undertaking. The location to coordinate the massive strike that was to take place against the satellites belonging to the Blackhelm Confederacy and those of the Griffincrest Corporation. Information was collected from all the participants, a tapestry of the situation carefully filled.

The major concern for the analysts involved, and indeed for all those participant in the Operation, was the possibility for a Kessler Syndrome. To deny the use of space for the next generation, that was something nobody desired, and countless solutions were lined up. Most of them however dealt with the after effects and a friendly environment, which, as it was already acknowledged, was not going to be the case in these circumstances. The only solution was for the resulting debris from the initial exchange to be minimized, impossible when taking into account the assets of a single nation, but well within achievable limits when taking into account the resources available to the nations involved in this undertaking. In addition, outside contractors had been contacted, to avoid unnecessary damage to the allied installations above enemy positions, billions spent with Izistani private companies and ZMI for a fast clean up in that area of space.

Inside the mountain, pipes and cables stretched for miles, concrete and steel used generously, composite materials and elaborate structures built to defend the fragile core of the base. At the upper levels, the noise of human activity and agitation marked the proceedings. The mess halls always busy feeding those on the base, the small garden, a luxury deemed necessary for relaxation despite the cramped space, always witness to a silent walk, the gyms filled with practising soldiers.

Underneath the levels were life went by as if on a normal base, one could find the first signs of what was happening here. Glimpses of a technology of spare parts, cables and and machinery pointed to the existence of something else. It was here that the security got even tighter and less and less people were allowed to pass. It was here that a maintenance man, so overlooked otherwise, might have had a higher clearance than a general or major, their task equally important in the well being of the installation.

And further down, just bellow the emergency facilities and generators, one would find the supercomputers that aided with the activity of the base. there were three of them, pipes of coolant, rooms carefully shielded from dust and interferences their give-away. All designed to process countless amounts of data, to keep track of the events taking place high above and pinpoint the most relevant of information when needed. All to serve the ultimate level of the base, the location most protected and hidden in the mountain.

The Command Room.

A huge round room, with windows all around it, empty, with the exception of a few chairs and a console, offering watchers perfect access to every detail inside. Those outside all worked behind a console, their training enough to guarantee only the occasional required glimpse at what was happening inside the room.

It was an integration of the most advanced technology. Of the data supplied by the supercomputers and of the information provided by The Principality's allies and its own system and services. It was a painting of stars high above, always in movement, always of a different colour. The specks of light were usually of several colours, purple, for The Principality's own, blue for its allies and friends, green for those deemed neutral, and pink to denote threats. But today, a few, when compared to the sea of blue, a few red points made their appearance in the chamber.

The red, as with many others, was used by The Principality to denote foe and target. Each of those red fireflies was one more target that needed to be removed and those few within the room kept a keen eye on them. Soon, they knew, other shapes and signs would move across the room, orders and action to be had, and their task would finally begin.

The signals were already there. Spinning pyramids of light blue and red were moving, seeking, engaging and vanquishing one another from the display, a view upon the drama developing in space, of the early engagement of Monavian and enemy space assets, a story watched unfolding with cold, professional eyes by those at the base, the data input, provided by countless sources, filtered for display. Each piece of debris, each remnant of the satellites engaged in this dance would be tracked and kept under supervision, the danger, if not yet at scales deemed as requiring attention, surely to add to what was to come.

"Time?" there were only three men in the room, all focused on the moving specks of light.

"00:05 and counting," a voice replied from nowhere, neither loud nor slow, the woman behind it as precise as a machine in her intonation of the words. "All moving according to plan."

"Good," the same man that requested the information replied, his hand moving to an interface placed on the armrest of his chair. "Initiate operational protocols." The hologram in the room shifted, almost as if the particles were rearranged by miracle as it zoomed on a sector of the previous image, the red lights much larger now and huge squares of blue appearing on shapes that could be recognized as continents. "Status?"

"Sumerian Air Interception Corps are ready," the voice came, as it announced the first movement of the concerto, the 9th, 13th and 33rd Interception Corps of the Erimkalam prepared to launch their ASAT payload, FJ-12 interceptors pilots just waiting the moment to unleash fire upon the enemy installations.

"Lamonian Air Interception Corps ready," another mechanical voice followed, confirming the Lamonian readiness, the 4th, 5th, 7th and 9th Lamonian Interception Corps ready to add their own to the orchestra, their Am-24 Interceptors no less prepared than their Sumerian counterparts to press the button that would scar the havens.

"Stevidian Contingent Ready," another confirmation, the clockwork precision requirements of the operation so far followed flawlessly, the Stevidian pilots also airborne and preparing themselves for what was to come in the following minutes.

"Arcturian Contingent ready," the hologram displayed this all, spheres of light, much larger than their counterparts in life, depicting the moving planes across the virtual continents. The Arcturian planes were added to the already complex pattern, their pilots heading towards the assigned position, the best locations for launching that which they carried.

"Wagdian Contingent ready," new spheres appeared, dots of light over the Wagdian landmass as silos and planes prepared for the moment of reckoning when all hell was to break loose. "Target acquisition complete."

"Vetakan Contingent ready," last of the confirmations arrived, the check list completed.

There was no need to ask about the state of readiness in regards to the Damiran assets deployed for this mission. The purple spheres spoke for themselves as they aligned in shapes and forms on the pattern. The strike contribution was perhaps lower than those of other nations, but there would be much added to the prevention of the retaliation achieving real gains. It was inevitable that in light of the massive salvo that was set to cripple the Orbital Assets of the enemy, there would be a reaction. It was doubtable that they could match the combined might of several nations, the streams of missiles heading their way unlike anything previously seen by their commanders, but nonetheless it paid to be cautious.

Bases and locations were already tagged, possible attack vectors marked, interception patterns established and integration of the numerous defensive systems already done, the estimated casualties amongst allied nations orbital facilities displayed and countless scenarios developed by the supercomputers. The absorption capabilities of the allies were beyond impressive, but even then, great care had to be taken.

"Good," the commander of the operation once spoke once more, his breath even as he took in the stale air of the room, his eyes fixed on the moving representations. "Invictus systems?"

"Confirmation received," a far more melodious voice replied, an excited teenager at the other end, "They will begin operations as instructed."

Far away from the base, in another location hidden from prying eyes, several youths, all distinguished hackers, awarded in the Hackers Olympics commonly held in The Principality awaited their cue. Preparations had been already made in advance, research, adaptation and inquiries as to what they were to face a priority for some time, viruses, trojans, data worms and countless other such surprises an arsenal that was to cause less than pleasant reactions for those that were to find themselves on the receiving end.

Equipped with processing capabilities that no sane person would allow a hacker, the teens and young adults were to be another weapon in this conflict. It was hoped that their attack would minimize losses of human life and provide an edge in the following days, for if successful, the collapse of the informational systems in Blackhelm and for the Griffincrest Corporation would produce chaos and mayhem, causing a breakdown of command and a logistical nightmare.

It was understood that the attack would lack the usual finesse associated with the Damiran Hackers, a more brutal, en force approach to be adopted for this circumstance, but enough back doors were to be left open in the enemy system for a second and third wave, that is, if the first achieved the desired success. At the very least, the information flow inherent to the free nature of the media in most of the nations in the alliance would be denied to the enemy. They would have to rely only on what fact would be made visible to them by their own observations and there was no intention in any of the allied nations to reveal enough for the enemy to be able to gain any real understanding of what was happening.

"Add a hacker, say Olympics, then add a supercomputer," one of the hackers chanted with a grin as he initiated his routine for the 'hit'.

"Can you say fried?" came the reply from one of the hackers sharing the location, his own fingers tapping merrily at the keyboard.

"Aye!!!" one by one the hackers assumed their customary positions, some working in teams, others catering to their own 'lone wolf' impersonation, but all aware of the importance of the acts they were about to perform.

"Fire."

***

In a secluded room of the Presidential Palace, a holographic display offered an unique view on the conflict, more data here than anywhere else. Only one man had access, the security overwhelming for a simple image. But for Librescu, as he held his eyes on the display, such details were irrelevant, his interest taken by the moving symbols.

In the North-West of Nova, the expeditionary task force was departing under Yves's command, the vanguard far ahead, scouring the seas for threats.

In the North-East of Nova, a force designed to secure the the most direct route towards Blackhelm was also preparing to take its leave and begin operations.

Across the region, ORB was in full effect, interlopers searched even in the most remote corner of the sea. In addition, the DNF was fully mobilized for conflict, its ships added layer of protection.

This was war, not yet ablaze.

[Katonazag]

International Waters – 2241 HOURS
Waypoint Alpha

“We’re here.” Lord Admiral Audley Kendrick’s comment was to be interpreted as an order. Nobility plus rank was a good equation for such a large command. The original combined fleet of 1000 combat ships, not including support vessels and LPDs, had been joined midcourse by 800 more. Among them was the Czarina’s entire contingent of 18 battleships. A massive fleet of LPDs had also been added, bringing the Royal Marine contingent to 300,000. It was also carrying the Assistant Commandant of the Royal Marines, Sir Douglass Biarre, who would command them personally.

The captain of the command vessel and flagship of the Krommindy Royal Navy’s combined fleet had the order via Morse code by light signal in order to maintain radio silence. According to plan, the fleet came to a halt, without incident.

“Signal the Lamonian fleet, and get my helio ready.”



Száraz AFB, HCSK
SATCOM Operations Center

Colonel Ćakovec had watched over the past 24 hours as the situation had become more active than ever before in his entire career. Surface vessels had exploded along with space itself. Military hardware was being moved at an unprecedented rate, and gathering in concentrations that he never thought that he would ever see. He was on duty now 24/7, per General Lajos’ order, but he did hand off duty to his adjutant when rest became essential.

The communications channel in the command room opened. “Ćakovec, this is General Lajos. Admiral Denholm reports that they need a ‘blackout’. Target information is being transmitted. Any replacement hardware that should arrive will also need to be removed. Be aware of anti-satellite measures that would interfere, and as such, make sure that the operational doctrines are being strictly adhered to. Mission to commence at 0630.”

“Copy that, General. We’ll make it work,” the Colonel replied. “Get Witold on the line,” he ordered.

“Ottó here,” came the voice from the other end.

“This is Colonel Ćakovec,” he said. “We need a DoS attack on Blackhelm and Griffincrest satellite resources, both with their equipment and their ability to shoot down our allies. Make it happen.”

“Yes, Colonel, I’ll do my best.”

Ćakovec continued to watch his screens, noting for the first time that several groups of HCSKAF bombers were taking off from several bases, but none seemed to be going toward the same direction.

[New Manth]

Denomination of Foreign Diplomacy Statements,
Addressed Publicly:

The Union is interested to see that the Neronian Empire places so little value on our offer to have our submarines searched, while the submarines it had near the area have done nothing but try to escape as fast as possible, even now that more than enough time has elapsed for them to realize, or be informed by Neronian navy command, that there is and was in fact no battle from which to flee. The lack of a reciprocating offer is also noted.

However, we have said our piece, and we now await the results of mine-clearing efforts which, we expect, should be able to identify the type of mine used.

Addressed to the Foreign Ministry of the United States of Allemande

Whilst the Union recognizes the ability of the United States government to pursue any action it might please in its own court system, the Union does not intend to take sole, or even chief, responsibility for orbital debris. We would like to remind the government of the United States that between the Union and the Griffincrest Corporation, the Corporation was the first to escalate into space, with a mass first strike against both military and civilian orbital assets of the Union. The Union does not make a practice of being the first to escalate to a mass space war, and indeed in other conflicts has sharply limited its anti-satellite engagements in order to create as little debris as possible. However, Griffincrest's weaponization of its own satellites makes them a military target, and its use of them to conduct a first strike against Union satellites makes them targets that we cannot afford not to shoot down. An orbital first strike demands retaliation as a simple military necessity, and any collateral damage, while unfortunate, is a part of the hazards of war; while the Union and the coalition powers have (unlike their opponents) taken measures to attempt to minimize damage to third parties, we would suggest that the United States look to the Griffincrest Corporation, as the escalating power, for compensation for any damage which does occur.

Kyriacos Strategic Defense Corps Base
Western Desert

The roar of missiles exiting their silos temporarily drowned out the quiet of the remote desert; soldiers vacating the previously-hidden, now probably well obvious desert facility stopped momentarily on the way to their HMMVs to watch the tracks of two dozen Praetorian anti-satellite missiles streaking towards the heavens.

One pointed off to the left, exclaiming in Arabic - from some other site, more trails were visible. Then someone pointed in the other direction... and talk slowly died off, as with squinting dozens of trails turned into hundreds, some coming from nearby sites, some barely visible far-off on the horizon. One man gave a low whistle, and by unspoken mutual agreement they hurried to their rides and kicked up dust with the speed of their departure.

These men were only seeing a small part of the largest single ASAT launch in Union military history. From the Sahara, from Somalia, from Atrea, from sites built into the Ethiopian mountains, two thousand, six hundred missiles; a quarter of the entire ready arsenal.

A dozen and more militaries had collaborated on the targeting data; the Stevidians, Damirans, Sumerians, Vetakans and many more, in addition to the Strategic Defense Corps' own efforts. The missiles now streaking towards the heavens were calculated to cover the most targets with the minimum of overlap or fratricide with allied missiles; fratricide not being a huge problem, given the distances involved in orbital combat, but still not something to be sloppy about. The main targets of the Manthian strike, besides the Confederate orbital network, was the Brewdomian one - particularly those satellites whose orbits had, or would bring them over the Novan region and Manthian territory directly.

Various places

The bulk of the Union fleet was moving. Whereas a quick advance force could, and had, been moved into position to secure seaways even before the ultimatum, the sheer number of vessels moving now had meant some delay was prudent; ships had to be armed with the appropriate munitions rather than their normal arsenals, carriers' aviation fuel stocks were topped off, those ships which had been in port recalled their crews and captains. And of course there was the logistical side; supply lines to be ensured and guarded, national and regional patrol routes to exchange with League ships, or the vessels of friendly nations not directly involved in hostilities... A tangle which had, by the efforts of several tens of thousands of largely un-thanked administrative personnel of the Union Navy, been sorted out with a minimum of fuss. From various parts of the world, mostly from Manth-outside-Nova, nearly three thousand warships now were en route for Africa - the first part of the Union's war commitment. Submarine forces, save for those attached directly to surface warship groups, were en route directly towards the Confederacy, where they were to establish a far blockade when they arrived; the rest proceeded more indirectly, to rendezvous with allied fleets and then push on to Confederate shores.

Elsewhere

-Before Task Force Zulu could change its course towards the nearest Manthian carrier group, it would have to locate that group. This might prove a more daunting task than usual for the Neronian commanders, given that the Union Navy, unlike many militaries, believed in small-taskforce tactics - there was no giant fleet, just individual small groups of ships that could easily be missed entirely, or mistaken for merchant or otherwise neutral shipping. Add to that the fact that the Union Navy carriers were operating under strict EMCON - getting their tactical information from aircraft flying up to several hundred nautical miles from the battle group, and emitting a minimum of electronic signals themselves - that their captains were more than willing, indeed eager, to play shell games with clouds and merchant shipping to evade satellite detection, that Manthian submarines were present in numbers to dissuade infiltration from that vector, and that the Neronian surface task forces and fleets were still thousands of miles away, and finding a single carrier in several tens of millions of miles of ocean might start to look difficult...

[Katonazag]

(OOC: For your listening pleasure: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WFOcsPNQBdw)

Space

Over the oceans surrounding the Blackhelm Confederacy, 30 observation and surveillance satellites belonging to Blackhelm or Griffincrest suddenly found themselves under an onslaught of directed microwave radiation. The HCSK "Carrion" satellites were normally used during peace time to fry domestic satellites and destroy the classified components with electrical arcing. While the technology was completely unsuited and prohibitively inefficient for use inside the atmosphere due to the absorption and scattering of radiation travelling through air, the void of space did not have that constraint.

Their wartime function was similar, with three exceptions. First and most obvious, the target was enemy satellites. Second, the on board radars were not used in order to prevent the targets from detecting that they were being "painted", and instead were being visually guided by their operators based on intelligence from SATCOMs counterparts in other Delian League and Fegosian Union nations. Third, a complete "melt" was unnecessary because the first components to go were always the most sensitive external parts - the transmitters and receivers. Complete "melt" normally required expending the Carrion satellite's entire payload and would take 48 hours to completely recharge. Burning the transmitters and receivers only required a fraction of the payload to achieve a "soft kill", which immediately resulted in the loss of function of the target, and eventually the decay and death by re-entry to the atmosphere. Another positive side effect was that there would be no debris field until re-entry.

The microwave transmission had one other important use. The same technology could be used to defend itself from ASAT missiles and kinetic-kill-kamikaze satellites, which according to intelligence seemed to be the favored ASAT technologies world-wide. Unfortunately, it still did nothing for kinetic-kill small projectiles and was vulnerable to accidental fratricide from the other Carrion satellites. For this reason, they operated in teams of three, each team well distanced from the next. This was not only to defend each other, but to defend each other from each other.

[Mokastana]

100 Km east of Grenada

Admiral Miguel Peron looked out into the open seas beyond the bow of the MNS Liberación, his fleet was ready to head to Nova and prepare to begin operations under the Coalition flag. Already his subs had gone out days ago ahead of the fleet to begin operations in the Atlantic or patrol off Mokan coasts looking for enemy ships. Around the MNS Liberación and her sister ship the MNS Angel sat hundreds of Mokan vessels. Eight Air Attack Flottillas would be deployed by Mokastana to assist her allies. In total over 800 ships would be leaving Mokan harbors to go to war with the corporate monsters that had plagued this earth for far too long now.

Peron smiled at the sight of his fleet spanning out in front of him. The Mokan navy was proud of its capabilities, and considered itself the strongest portion of the Mokan Military. The air force was powerful, but outdated. The Army was strong and modernized, but still relied on the other branches to move it. The navy on the other hand could out maneuver the air force, deploy and conquer quicker than the army and still rule the seas.

With that last thought he ordered the final inspection on the hundreds of ships and soon they began sailing east across the ocean to aide their allies.


El Fortaleza del Desierto

Generalissimo Nicolas Villa walked out of his command bunker towards the parade grounds where the first batch of Volunteer forces had been lined up for boot camp. Mostly SWA security forces and other leftist they were ready to finally begin the global revolution that had been placed so carefully in the hearts of many during their youths. Generalissimo Villa scoffed at his youth and desires to lead the global revolution, but time and politics had taught him both the faults of old socialism and the effects of compromise. No more had he felt the vigorous black and white rush of these youths…until now. He could feel the old warrior in him coming out once more. Even his limp had managed to be put aside to both look good to the men and because his body so craved to be on the ground with rifle in hand once more.

“Listen up you left wing pigs! I am Generalissimo Nicolas Villa, Commander in Chief of the Mokastana Volunteer Corps. I have fought and suffered in combat that will be nothing compared to what we expect to happen to you. So I will be hard, I will be fair, and if you cross me I will shoot you myself. We will train over the course of the next few months while war rages on, when our capitalist allies, yes I said capitalist, land on the corporation’s soil we will be there to back them up. Understand me now, this camp will not make you Special Forces, when you leave you will still be able to die, quite easily. You will not be heroes, for one: HEROES die! And for two: You will be conquerors. You will be soldiers fighting to make the world a better place. Some of you will die, but it will be for a cause worth giving everything for.

Viva El Pueblo! Viva Los Trabajadores! Viva la revolución!”

“Viva La Revolución!” The volunteers screamed in unison.

Nicolas turned to his aide and smiled, whispering quietly: “These boys don’t know what they are in for, let’s give them hell.”

With that training began to ensure the fanatical lust of the leftist and anti-Griffencrest volunteers got the weapons and know how to put it to good use.




Pacific Theatre

The Pacific Theatre was far more active then High command let on, as attention focused on the satellite battles over the Confederacy and attacks on Monavia, the Pacific Navy had been moving steady farther out into the open ocean. With three main places in the Pacific for Mokan fleets to deploy from: the Western Coast of Mejico and Sur, Paradisa Naval Station, and the far west territories of Aqua Anu.

In charge of the Pacific fleet was a man by the name of Admiral Jesus Consuelo, recently promoted Commander of the Pacific fleet, and in his hand he held an envelope with the words Classified across its side, directly from Juventud itself. In front of him in the Pacific Command Center of Paradisa Naval Station sat a map of Bellamee Islands, and they would be his focus in the coming months. The attack was planned to be as quick as possible. Already information had come in from other members of the coalition and allies on assets in the area but it seemed like Mokan forces made up the bulk of the theatre.

Satellite/balloon footage of Bellamee was scattered on tables around him as intel officers marked air fields, barracks, highways, radar stations, SAMs, and other necessary targets and uploaded them into the battlenet.

Orders were to prepare for possible invasion. Submarines were already on route to both islands and under orders to sink anything with a Blackhelm while Marine Flotillas were heading out to sea to get lost in the mass that was the Pacific Ocean.

Once targets had been marked the Spec Ops teams at sea would land on Bellamee and began Project Silent Uprising.


Unofficially Operation Southern Dawn had begun….

[Blackhelm Confederacy]

Griffincrest and Confederate satellites were taking a pounding, that much was certain, but they had each put years of investments into their systems. As ASAT's screamed out of the atmosphere, counter-missiles were immediately launched, as enemy satellites neared, KKV's were upon them at least a half dozen to one. Still, however, the sons of Blackhelm had taken heavy losses, losing a fair share of their surveillance abilities over the nations of the Coalition. Most surprising of all were the new technologies being broken out against them, like the one used by Katonazag. Unfortuantely for the users, however, their technology made them top priority for a strike by Griffincrest.

Bellamee Island

This was by far the worst post in all of the Confederacy, and that was something to say when the rest of the nation is a jungle/desert/mountain hell teeming with rebels out for government blood. Everything was underground, leaving not much to be seen on the Mokan maps, and that ground was under an average of three feet of snow. The only poor saps above the snow were the handful of men on the lookout post and at the RADAR/Radio station, and these men were almost always shivering their balls off.

The seven thousand man strong Colonial Defense Force, the last vestiges of a force that once protected a sprawling Empire, had a surprisingly well constructed underground fortification system on the island. Bunkers were hidden everywhere, and hidden within two of the snow banks were 3M-54E batteries while others contained G5 155mm artillery pieces. An invader would be very unlikely to see anything at all due to the fierce snow that almost always enveloped the island, and once they arrived, would be greeted with quite a surprising array of firepower.

As of now, however, the men on the island had no idea the Mokans were descending upon them, and would likely not know for some time.

Sacrament AFB

Men were streaming from the air force base and into the dense surrounding jungle from several Allied countries as General Marcus Blueshield arrived in his jeep. He began greeting the officers that would likely soon become his friends as he drove by. He had plans for the deployment of all of these men, but first, he would need to talk to their leadership and make sure they were all on the same page. Inevitably, there would be some kind of conflict of interest, most likely with the men from Blainesville, who had caused some dissarray in the past. Also, he was entirely unfamiliar with the Brewdomians and Sorganese. He had heard Griffincrest commanders speak welll of the Brewdomian Air Force, but being of the Confederate military and not the Corporate, he did not have much of an idea of their ability. He quickly made his way to a bunker beneath the base, and gave an order for his adjudant to gather the other generals and bring them to the temporary command base.

[Lynion]

They say the Vamperial Kingdom was silent for a whole five minutes as the news broadcast captured the attention of the entire kingdom. People cried while others brewed with pure hatred. It was announced that Vamp King has being captured by Ralkovian's while on a diplomat visit to the nation. The military was the worse to be affected by the capture. Morale was at an all time low and even the morale squads couldn't lift it. Protests were held around the kingdom demanding more diplomatic relations to extend to Ralkovia. The military was forced to assume control over the Vamperial Kingdom as it replaced the name and changed it to the Vamperial Order of Lynion and martial law was to be enforced. Recuirtment, surprisingly, was at an all time high as thousands of civilians flocked to their nearest military recuritment centre and enlisted into the military. However, if war raising, there was little chance that Ralkovia won't feel the jack boot of the Vamperial Order.

Lynion Islands, Lynscert Island
Vamperial Temple, Council Chambers

"So far, we got five fleets near the Lamonian fleets at BC. We still haven't got a legion to deploy but the Raider's are willing to put their mercenaries into action against the BC," started Tzu as he went over the breifing. "They already dispatched a force of 30,000 to be deployed in BC but there's little more we can do until the full blunt of the military is ready,"

"We must also consider our ally Neo-Ixania from being invaded from BC," noted Woff. "We'll deploy a legion into the Lynx Colony and keep it on Code Yellow. They'll be sent to Ixania should the worse happen,"

"We must also consider our vital colony in Tyrrhenia," noted Jian. "If we're to use a closer staging ground for the future attack against Ralkovia, we need to dispatch a Threate Force to keep it secure and lock it down under martial law..."

"I would personally want to be sent to Tyrrhenia to command the forces there," requested Rathma as it seemed surprisingly to seem him put forward himself as field commander.

"You only got the experience to command a corp let alone a million troops," noted Woff as he was aware of Rathma's combat abilities.

"You know I'm ready for the task," snapped back Rathma without realising it.

"For heavens sake," shouted Woff. "I can only give you 50,000..."

"I'll give you the 12th Corp Army but you'll answer to General Headmaster Jacobs is that clear?" interrupted Jian as Woff calm down.

"Very well, you have the responsibility of aiding Headmaster Jacobs for duty," noted Woff as Jian had put them down for the time being. "Jian, how many corps can we deployed into the BC Threate of War?"

"At the moment, we got 12 battle ready and the remaining are being trained or formed. We're getting more recuirts than expected," noted Jian as he glanced at Rathma before turning to Woff.

"When you can, dispatch two fleets to act as escorts for the transports and send them to Union so they can be ready to head over to BC," concluded Woff.

Somewhere out in International Waters

The Joint 14th Armada was constructed out veteran Lynion Forces, Hunters and Raiders from the mercenary coperation of Tallcon Company. It was a surprise to see mercenaries fighting alongside Vamperial Kingdom Forces but for the first time since their formation, they had allowed themselves to be bought by the monarch in order to be used as a quick fighting force until the Vamperial Forces could come to their aid. The Armada was under the command of Fleet Admiral Robert Kennedy. A fighting admiral that had rose from the ranks of midshipman to Fleet Admiral. He was quick, used his resources well and with his capabilites, he could out-match an enemy fleet. Using his field glasses he noted the position of their allies.

"Coalition Forces, this is the Vamperial Joint 14th Armada calling Coalition Forces. Whose in command here?" he asked over the radio not knowing who he might get.

[Salzland]

Presidential Situation Room
Rostgard, Salzland

Sleepless nights became the norm in the capitol of Salzland, as thousands of politicians, analysts, military personnel and aides worked round the clock to keep up with the recent crises threatening the security and interests of the Armed Republic. From nuclear war to a potential (and apparently aborted) invasion by the Eurasian Soviet Republic to the incursion of several formations of Griffencrest Corporation warships into Novan waters, Rostgard had been operating on the razor's edge for weeks. The declarations of war levied in response against the Griffencrest Corporation, it's host nation of the Blackhelm Confederacy and those allies that had chosen to stand with it streamed in over television, the internet and various wireless communications devices.

Salzlanders followed the conflict from the first declarations of war, to the discovery of a seemingly vast string of minefields in the Magnus Ocean, to the increasingly destructive exchanges of anti-satellite weaponry between the two sides. Up until this point, the Armed Republic was able to walk a narrow tightrope of neutrality; avoiding being dragged into the conflict at a time of exceptional vulnerability. Military assets recently scattered throughout the region to ensure their survival from possible nuclear attacks were still re-organizing at regional and mainland bases, while wary civilians that had not yet returned to their homes from evacuation points throughout the world still waited to come back to Salzland.

Word was coming in from the Armed Republic's long-time allies in Barretstia that there was a concern of possible invasion from their regional neighbors, in response to a government member's allocation of funds to a terrorist organization. The developing conflict in Luxinesia still demanded attention and support from the Armed Republic, lest supporters of an authoritarian government overwhelm the pro-democratic factions and turn the country to their own twisted views. The Greater Republic of Reijvajik, another long-time ally, was giving all appearances of squaring off with the nation of Tezdrian, over the latter's sponsorship of slave-trading, human rights abuses, imperialism and international terrorism. All of these incidents competed for Salzland attention, alongside providing assistance for its allies taking up the banner of the anti-Griffencrest cause.

The time for neutrality in what was rapidly becoming a major inter-regional conflict had come to a close, however. Public support, in light of what many analysts concluded were Griffencrest-backed mining of international waters (since, after all, it made little sense to the average Salzlander for the Manthians to mine their own supply lines) swung solidly behind a military intervention against the corporation and its allies. Unfortunately, the Armed Republic would not be able to bring much force to bear to aid its allies; between maintaining sufficient forces close to home to defend against any further threatening maneuvers by the Eurasians, meeting other committments and ruling out the units still too disorganized to respond, there simply wasn't much to spare.

It was with that in mind that a war council was assembled, to consider various options for open intervention in this conflict. Everything from providing satellite intelligence and working to cut down on the expanding clouds of debris created by the space conflict raging high overhead, to mobilizing several carrier battlegroups to link up with Coalition forces, to preparing Marine divisions for amphibious operations against Griffencrest and Blackhelm foreign holdings. What course the Armed Republic pursued would soon be determined.

"Congress has already passed a declaration of war," began Ian Williams, the Minister of Defense, "And we certainly have enough forces mobilized to join the war effort in some way. Considering our other committments at the moment," he continued, pausing briefly, "How much are we willing to throw into anti-Griffencrest operations, and how much are we willing to lose? Because we cannot operate under any illusions that we will emerge with anything less than severe casualties among the forces we contribute. Engaging a foe of this size, with this much time to prepare, any other expectations would be little short of delusional."

"We already have the Fourth Fleet on stand-by, ready to depart Novan waters in support of Leistungi actions against a Ralkovian intervention. We've heard some rumbling, however," replied Johnathon Marcus Davis, the Minister for Foreign Relations, "That our allies have something else in store for them. Given our present situation, it may be best for us to contact the Coalition member-nations directly, and establish what they need before we contribute more than just words to this war." Various heads around the table nodded in agreement, as this position appeared to be shared by the majority. Even Defense Minister Williams nodded his agreement with this suggestion.

"Then that's what we'll do. Contact the Coalition's high command, find out where we can do some good, and we'll see about making it happen. In the mean time we have some announcements to draft, people. Let's get to it," Concluded President William Phillips.

*******

Declaration of War on the Blackhelm Confederacy, the Griffencrest Corporation, et al

In light of the recent as well as numerous historic acts of aggression sponsored by the Griffencrest Corporation on the world stage, the sanction provided for these actions by the government of the Blackhelm Confederacy, and the decisions by various allied states to condone this misconduct;

The Congress of the Armed Republic of Salzland, assembled in joint session;

Do hereby declare that a state of war is now in existence between the Armed Republic and all forces seeking to uphold and defend through force the Griffencrest Corporation's attempts at strangling the small, independent oil corporations and oil-producing nations of the world into submission by force. The free world, in response to the latest incursions of the Corporation into Novan waters, has gathered to declare that it will no longer tolerate acts of theft and murder on an international scale. While our allies are marching to war, while long-time friends and presently-neutral nations such as New Chalcedon are already paying in blood and treasure for the crimes of Griffencrest and its ilk, we can no longer sit idly by on the sidelines of this conflict. The Armed Republic has had its hand forced.

It is our hope that this war be waged in a civilized fashion. Civilians will not be targeted by Salzland forces. Prisoners of war will be accorded full rights and privileges as mandated by Salzland law. It is this Congress' expectation that our opponents will reciprocate these gestures, as any civilized nation would.

On this, the Fourteenth Day of October in the Year of our Lord 2009, the Armed Republic formally announces a state of war between itself and the Griffencrest Corporation, the Blackhelm Confederacy, and those who stand alongside them. May God have mercy on the souls of those upon whose shoulders this conflict falls.

Signed,

On Behalf of the House of Representatives of the Armed Republic of Salzland

On Behalf of the Council of the Armed Republic of Salzland

On Behalf of the President of the Armed Republic of Salzland

***********

TO: Coalition High Command
FROM: General Grant Robinson, Chairman, Salzland Joint Chiefs of Staff
SUBJECT: Co-ordination of efforts against Griffencrest Corporation, etcetera

Commanders,

I am instructed to write to you on behalf of the Ministry of Defense, and the Armed Republic proper to inquire as to any assistance that the Salzland Defense Forces may be able to provide in your operations against the Griffencrest Corporation and its assorted allies. At present, we are prepared to mobilize several carrier battle groups to aid Coalition naval and aerial efforts against Griffencrest forces. As naval and air superiority is achieved, and should the conflict remain active, we are further prepared to contribute limited ground forces toward offensive operations. Salzland orbital assets are also at your service for the duration of this conflict.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I eagerly anticipate your reply so that I might begin organizing Salzland's armed forces for war. May fortune smile upon us in the weeks and months ahead.

Signed,

Grant Robinson
Chairman, Joint Chiefs of Staff

[Lamoni]

Regenshavn, Atrea

The FRLS Dragon had finally ended the search for further survivors from the Pax a couple of days ago, after finding no further signs of life. An estimated six hundred survivors had been jam packed onto the frigate, and the ship's Captain would be glad to have them off of the ship. It wasn't that he thought that they should have drowned rather than been rescued, but any of these survivors could potentially be a spy or saboteur. After all, the Free Republic was at war with the Blackhelm Confederacy, and it would be a relatively simple matter to damage something. That nothing had been broken so far might have meant many things, not least of which that any spies that might be present in the crowd of survivors might well have had compassion for the survivors themselves, and had decided to allow them to get to safety in Regenshavn. Nonetheless, all critical systems had been locked down while the survivors were on board, and the ship's Marine detachment did the best that they could in the circumstances.

During the journey from the wreck of the Dragon to the port at Regenshavn, the captain of the Pax was politely but firmly being asked questions. Questions like "Did you know that there was a minefield in your path of travel?," and "What was your final destination?" These questions were calculated to both satisfy the Lamonian's own curiosity about the circumstances of the distress of the Pax, but also to allow the captain to answer them without feeling any obligations that might keep his mouth shut.

In any event, the FRLS Dragon sailed it's way toward Regenshavn, it met up with the local military forces, and followed their lead into port. With the rain that falling, it was to be hoped by the Lamonian crew of the Dragon that their "hosts" would have some kind of reception waiting for the survivors. While the two nations were at war, the Lamonian sailors still had the same compassion for the survivors that they would have for anyone that they had picked up from the clutches of the sea. The Lamonian Navy had had standing orders since it's foundation to respond to distress calls unless tactical needs dictated otherwise, and it was hoped that other nations would reciprocate. Sometimes, these standing orders could also be used for more than just lifesaving purposes. After the last of the survivors had departed the ship, the FRLS Dragon Regenshavn for international waters, where it would meet up with the Type 76 replenishment tanker FRLS Warhammer. At this rendezvous, the Dragon would receive any supplies that it might need to join the allied naval force that had gathered around the Lamonian Navy's rally point during the duration of the Dragon's action to save the survivors of the Pax. Once underway, the Dragon used it's Satellite Radios to transmit the recorded images of the survivors of the Pax leaving the ship, and setting foot on Atrean soil. These images would be well used in the days ahead.

Lamonian Homeland

The images of the survivors of the Pax leaving the FRLS Dragon for dry land were well used indeed. Lamonian television stations internationally broadcast the images of the survivors leaving the ship, and compared the unmistakable valor of the Lamonian Navy to the atrocities committed by the forces of the Corporate Alliance in Freidlichen. Even in time of war, the news spots blared, the Lamonians would not allow even enemies to be utterly destroyed. Like all good pieces of propaganda, it was true.

FRLS Rasul Al Laylat

The Lamonian flagship was now home to officers from the navies of Lamoni, Stevid, Imbrinium, and Krommindy. All of these officers were currently watching a simulation of the battle plans drawn up for taking on the homeland of the Blackhelm Confederacy. As the arrows showing the advancing forces of both sides moved, casualty lists grew, and more red "enemy" arrows winked out than blue "friendly" arrows.

"There you have it, everyone," Admiral Ghates was demonstrating the simulation on the holographic projector, "Coalition forces can match whatever they can throw at us which is listed in the international listings of what the enemy has. The Air Forces from the other CA member nations might be a slight annoyance, but we feel confident in the abilities of the joint forces to be able to smother them in aircraft, at the very least. If at all possible, we must strike their fuel production facilities, and any oil fields that they might have. If their forces don't have fuel, then the only option that they will have left is a guerrilla war. Modern armies crawl along on top of massive waves of fuel, and all of these fuels come from oil. Deprive them of oil, and their abilities are drastically reduced.

Second, we must reduce the profit generating enterprises of the Griffincrest Corporation through any means at our disposal. The fewer forces that the Griffincrest Corporation can throw at us, the better. Another advantage that we have is that the forces of the Griffincrest Corporation are mercenaries. If we can inflict enough casualties on the mercenary forces, then they will most likely fold up and leave the field of battle. History has proven this of other mercenaries, and it is my personal opinion that history will repeat itself here."

Once again, the Admiral got interrupted before he could continue, a Lieutenant handing him a radio message that had been received from naval forces dispatched to the allied task force by Lynion. After reading it, the Admiral excused himself from the assembled group of allied officers, and sent off a reply to the radio message. A group of the Lynion Admiralty was invited to join the other contingents on the FRLS Rasul Al Laylat, if they wished to do so. Deck space had been cleared for their helicopter to land on the aircraft carrier. With this many ships having reached the allied rally point, each nation was being assigned a certain area for their ships, if they wished to hang around the rally point until their operational assignments were scheduled to begin.

[Etoile Arcture]

The 6039th squadron had originally been an airlift squadron operating from one of the numerous but generically nondescript air bases of the Technocracy. The type flown exclusively by the squadron was the Airbus A300-203 series, many of the aircraft having come to the squadron via Arcturia Airways as civilian cargo planes refitted with strengthened airframes, more powerful engines and military avionics.
While the fast jet jockeys grabbed all the glory - and the girls - those pilots who had passed their training but had not quite made the cut as combat pilots found themselves selected to fly the equally important, if not glamorous mission, of logistics, troop transport and aeromedical evacuation.

When the combat squadrons relocated these were the pilots that flew all the equipment and personnel to the new bases, and these were the pool of pilots where selections for air refuelling tankers, maritime patrol aircraft and VIP transports came from.
At the end of the day a pilot was a pilot, and both they and the crews found even the log bird drivers got attention from the opposite sex in the off-duty bars by virtue of the wings on their uniforms so life wasn't so bad after all. The Airbus A300 was a kind workhorse to these men and women. User friendly, as the saying went, and always reliable. But the inevitable time arrived when sisters squadrons begun to receive new aircraft, like the fully militarised KC-30B and KC-45A. The pilots of the 6039th expected to see their faithful steeds finally retired and replaced by these newer types, and were surprised to be informed they were among a few select squadrons that would retain their aircraft after they were put though an airframe refresh, another avionics update and some modifications.

Quite what ‘modifications’ meant was lost in the translation. The squadron found itself flying a series of hand-me-downs, soon to be decommissioned A300s even as theirs were returned to the manufacturer to undertake their refits. When the crews next saw their birds, at one of the hangars in the sprawling joint service base on Googlewoop Atoll, the crew were bemused to see what modifications had been performed and what were now essentially, following their refit, new aircraft. Only to their expert eye could they notice the lumps and bumps of new communications and electronic warfare antennas spoiling the smooth contours of their aircraft. But unmistakable and most striking was what had been done to the underside of their aircraft. Where a new fairing like a low stubby pylon now hung directly underneath a reinforced wing box, and behind it where a cargo bay had once been, a slot cut directly into the airframe that seemed to serve no purpose.

It was a purpose that could only be explained to them by spooks of the Intelligence Directorate whose names they never quite caught in the short few months they would be working together with them. The spooks first showed the crew the new updated flight decks, little changed from the original plane, but the main cabin itself was unrecognisable. Aside from the first class section of seats and amenities such as galley and heads, aft of these all the remaining seats had been ripped out and in their place were racks of computers and a small cluster of consoles. At these would sit the new members of the flight crews whose flight suits bore legends such as Mission Controller and Spacecraft Engineer. Finally, with an obvious eye for the dramatic, the spooks had rolled in on a low trolley what everyone present knew was a missile. And not any missile, but a winged rocket that fit snugly under the wing box faring, the tailfin of which fitted exactly in the hollow slot cut in the airframe.

The spooks first showed the crew the new updated flight decks, the forward cabin transplanted from the business class section of other aircraft for providing world-class facilities during long flights, and then behind this the converted passenger and cargo cabin containing workstations and racked computers. Finally, with an obvious eye for the dramatic, the spooks had rolled in on a low trolley what everyone knew was a missile. And not any missile, but a winged rocket that fit snugly under the faring they had seen the tailfin of which fitted exactly in the hollow slot cut in the airframe.
The purpose of which these former airliners and military transports became increasingly clear following hours of briefings and simulator sessions. The pilots had joked amongst themselves as they watched ground crew fit the first live round of ammunition to their aircraft, a single eighteen metre long segmented tube filled with solid rocket fuel, with a nose fairing and a stubby triangular wing and tail near the rocket exhaust nozzle. What they were witnesses was no less than the most unlikely of two stage to orbit launch vehicles, or as the military pilots instantly saw it, as the mother of all air-launched missiles.

Behind the nose faring of this winged missile sat a small spacecraft. Derived from a decade's experience in micro spacecraft it was little more than a metallic cylinder packed with off the shelf instruments including the lens and electronics taken from an air-to-air missile and a lidar ranging instrument. The small hydrazine-fuelled spacecraft was temperamental at first. Unlike the rocket itself, which while more complex than your average missile could sill be stored and handled in much the same way, what it carried in the nose needed to be handled with kid gloves by personnel in bunny suits in an air-filtered and climate controlled clean room where technicians had to mate it to the rough and ready rocket. Then the whole stack, as the ground crew called it, had to be wheeled carefully and slotted into the faring beneath the wing box and its electrical connectors carefully attached and tested one by one.

At first, while the program was still in its testing phase and heavily classified, the squadron retained its original name as the 6039th Airlift Squadron, something that tickled the pilots pink as they smirked when in private company they were spooks. In time, they would become a Space Squadron, then when the program was declassified a few years later, the 6039th Space Denial Squadron. Each squadron had twenty four aircraft and eight of the missiles, called the ASM-179 Damocles that carried what was simple called the Mark One Orbital Kill Vehicle, or OKV-1 for short. At any time one of these squadrons would be on ready alert, their rockets stored in a pre-processed state in clean rooms near their hangars ready to accept OKV-1 kill vehicles and fly to a launch position anywhere in the world.

While dozens of test launches had been conducted due to concerns about international condemnation and orbital debris no actual interception had ever been conducted. All missions had terminated prior to the terminal phase with the system verified by acquiring and flying towards its targets before being commanded to safely de-orbit over some wide expanse of ocean. The first use of Damocles would now come within an hour of the first exchange of fire between satellite assets of Brewdomia and the Blackhelm Confederacy with those of the coalition, and the first combat missions flown by the Etoile Arcture Aerospace Forces not by fast jet jockeys but the dependable crews of the 6039th .

Unlike an in-orbit anti-satellite system the squadron was mobile and therefore impossible to detect, attack and prevent from operating. Unlike other terrestrial anti-satellite weapon, whether fixed ground, sea launched or other air launched system, the Damocles was a fully capable multi-staged rocket able to reach targets at any altitude or inclination. Planning for ASAT missions had begun weeks earlier and the orbital tracks of potential targets resolved by Etoilian and friendly radar surveillance with a high fidelity. At both Googlewoop Atoll and Fort Stahl aircraft queued on the ramps, a dozen aircraft in a line with the heat haze of their engines blurring them from view as the missiles hung low between their undercarriage.

One by one the first flights took off, heading towards optimum release points that could be just a few miles to thousands of miles distant. The complexity of the mission they would undertake was underlined by the hundreds of pages of the tasking order that described every orbital element of the target and the interception flight. Inside the relatively small kill vehicles, weighing just shy of 800 pounds when fully fuelled, were locked into its memory of the GPS coordinates of a primary and secondary target and a mission profile. Once the Airbus had reached its cruising altitude of 40,000 feet and the release point of the weapon, the controllers and engineers in the main cabin armed and powered the missile and commanded it to separate from the carrier aircraft using pneumatic spring mechanisms.

Within an instant the missile would fall away, free-flying on its small delta wing. It took just five seconds for it to reach the safe distance from which it could automatically light its first stage engine and rocket forwards aiming towards space. Telemetry flowed by datalink back to the aircraft where engineers monitored the progress of each Damocles as it burned all three stages and inserted its fourth stage containing the OKV-1 kill vehicle into an initial orbit. The OKV-1 then performed an automated on-orbit checkout, relayed back to the aircraft already en route back to its home base to be turned around for another mission. In virtually every case the kill vehicles passed their tests at green, executing a burn that phased them into the same orbit as their targets.

Each attack would b as unique as the targets they were attacking, but typically the mission had been designed to be a pop-up attack where the satellite was masked during ascent and orbital phasing by the limb of the planet, before literally popping up over the horizon towards the intended victim to minimise warning of the attack so that ground controllers would be unable to manoeuvre it out of the way. At this point the kill vehicle had self-navigated to the area of where the enemy satellite was predicted to be at which point, at around 20 kilometres distance, the satellite turned on its wide angle imaging infra-red sensor to acquire the satellite. A small lidar sensor, using a low power microlaser, fed ranging data to the brain of the kill vehicle to place it on a direct ‘hit-to-kill’ collision course. The OKV-1 then fired its small main thruster one final time. The kill vehicle and target would then collide at a closing velocity of close to 8,000 metres per second, both spacecraft being consumed by their cataclysmic collision.

In the first wave of attacks alone included 240 Damocles and kill vehicles were used, with another 120 ready to fire behind them. The targets picked being both communication satellites residing in geostationary orbit and global positioning satellites in medium Earth orbit. The entire GPS constellations of the Blackhelm Confederacy and Griffcrest Corporation were under attack, along all planes and every slot in those constellations. Along with them were targeted large and small communication satellites, co-orbital defence satellites with multiple kill vehicles, and even suspected dual-use civilian and military satellites stored in high orbits by the Confederacy, Griffincrest and Brewdomia. The unique ability of Damocles to target these higher orbits was put to good use as the rest of the coalition focused on dismantling the networks of surveillance, early warning and weapon satellites in lower orbits. As the communication and GPS networks were attrited it would also aid other coalition anti-satellite forces as the enemy’s ability to accurately target coalition orbital assets became degraded by loss of accurate positioning for them and the satellites that relayed the attack commands to the kinetic kill vehicles.

[Beiraq]

O ye who believe! fight the unbelievers who are near to you, and let them find firmness in you: and know that Allah is with those who fear Him.
- (9:123)

The man in charge of the Beiraqi Expeditionary Force, General Khalid al-Assad, waseager to meet with the other Allied commanders and discuss the future troop deployments of his forces. He had learned much of the Confederacy in these past days, and he had hoped, most of all, to be able to fight alongside his Muslim brothers in Egyptiansstan, the land in the north of the nation where Muslims conducted business as usual, rather than be persecuted as was so common in this backwards land. Had the situation been different, Khalid may have tried to change things and help the Muslims elsewhere, but for now, he had orders to follow, and at least it wasn't all bad. At least they still had a very large province to themselves.

Dozens of tanks and men were assembling on the runways, and along with them came M94 Plamen-S 128mm rocket launchers, SCUD missile launchers, and countless crates of guns and ammunition. The Beiraqi's had come to play ball, and they would prove to the world that they were capable of competing on the world stage. They had to prove that they were a power to be reckoned with, the world's premiere Arab nation, and here, hopefully in the harsh deserts of Egyptiansstan if all went their way, they would prove this fact. The enemy, no matter how great they believed themselves to be, would crush themselves upon the shores of this land, and it would be Beiraqi arms that would carry the day.

In Lebadad, however, things were different. President Chalabi sat in his palace as the warm desert air whipped around sand outside, conversing quietly with a number of his ministers. He was eager to find the results of their brave assault on an enemy fleet with his brand new ships, and he also wanted to find other ways to strike out at their enemy and get the Beiraqi name out there. It was obvious from enemy chatter that even now, even as hundreds of thousands of Beiraqi soldiers were rolling into the Blackhelm Confederacy and Beiraqi vessels searched for Novan fleets that they were being viewed as a second class power in a first class war. This enraged Achmed, and he was demanding of his men that new plans be made to further damage their new enemies.

Lacking a powerful navy, they could do very little in terms of force projection, and even if they had a navy capable of getting his men their, Achmed as sure that the Novans had a strong defense protocol set up for just such a situation. The only obvious idea that could be found, at least by the council assembled in the Presidential Palace, was one most underhanded. Once the idea was found, a series of telegrams between Chalabi and the Blackhelm Confederacy were exchanged. The Confederacy, although saying it would take no part in the deal or condone it, still would need the help that it could bring once the infidels realized the ability of the Beiraqi people.

Camps were being set up in the north of Beiraq, the rugged mountain land home to so many tribesmen. In these camps, Beiraqi Republican Guard instructors began training the newest wave of jihadis, a group that would soon be sent into the very hearts of the nation sopposing Beiraq to disrupt their ways of life and spread a campaign of fear throughout Nova, one in which no citizen of any enemy of Beiraq shall ever feel safe again.

The Novans and their ilk started this war, a war that they cannot hope to win, and now they would pay. Aside from the jihadis being trained currently in camps, the Beiraqi Special Republican Guard was also planning on another event to create problems on the Novan homefront. Men would begin spreading slanderous lies throughout the Muslims of enemy Novan states, hoping to rally men to the cause of Beiraq, disguised as that of Islam. They would also begin forming large, primarily Muslim anti-war protests and organizations. Should this work, domestic terrorism with the region would further destabilize the Coalition, and hopefully even cause a mutiny, and with some luck might cause enough public pressure . These chances, however slim they may be, were still better than nothing.

On top of all this, the Beiraqi government was spening millions to ensure that none of these activities would be traced back to the Glorious Republic. There would be no way for the Novans and their friends to know what the Beiraqis were planning.

[The State of Monavia]

Mount Talus Complex
Northern Monavia

Inside the Strategic Air Command Monitoring Center, a flurry of papers circulated between analysts and controllers who watched as Monavian Wasps exited the atmosphere and began to divide themselves among Brewdomian and Confederate assets. Many of the controllers began to individually guide the Wasps towards their targets throughout low earth orbit, while others prepared to eliminate the enemy’s ability to perform reconnaissance and surveillance over Coalition nations.

General White was coordinating ASAT operations over Monavia as his counterparts in Etoile Arcture, Damirez, Alfegos, Wagdog, Lamoni, and elsewhere carried out similar measures against the Blackhelm Coalition’s assets.

“Sergeant, what do have to report?” he asked one of the controllers.

“Additional Confederate KKVs are approaching. Aegis still appears operational.”

“What’s the status of our defense platform?” he frantically asked.

“It’s still operational, albeit taking minor debris damage. Blackhelm’s ASAT systems are still closing in, and outnumber many of our assets by at least five-to-one.” The situation was escalating, yet still remained in check.

Walking over to a display showing Brewdomian rod platforms reaching their target areas, evidenced by their deceleration as they came nearer, the general began estimating the locations of their final positions. Once he had chosen some coordinates, he gave the order to send up ASAT missiles to deal with the rod platforms.

“Sir, we have already expended our ordinance within this facility’s silos and delivery systems. We have to ask for support from elsewhere.”

“Get it now! We need to have those platforms down before they can do any damage to their targets.”

Open space

The Brewdomian satellite network had not been effective in using its countermeasures against the Wasps and anti-satellite missiles. One rocket in the business of unloading its Wasp payload was hit, however, by in incoming enemy satellite, destroying the rocket and its entire compliment. The explosion sent debris tumbling in all directions, some hurtling toward the ground, burning up as it went, and some flying farther out into space.

The Brewdomian assault began knocking out satellites throughout the area before the ten Wasps being deployed there could arrive. Eight surveillance satellites were already descending into fiery oblivion, while others spun through space, their guidance systems damaged by debris. The Wasps in the area now counterattacked, aiming for ten Brewdomian satellites coming their way.

The other 280 Wasps divided themselves into two groups. 150 of them would continue on to intercept the Confederate kinetic kill vehicles pursuing Aegis while the remaining 130 would stay behind to attack Brewdomian satellites. Each Brewdomian target had two Wasps aiming for it, and if one hit and the other was not needed, it would proceed towards its next target. The Wasps, however, were not alone.

300 anti-satellite missiles now exited the atmosphere, launched from the Mount Talus Complex. After some cruising time, they began rushing at every Brewdomian target for which a lock could be acquired. From behind, 100 missiles from the Queen Theodora Islands now approached, presenting the enemy with a two-pronged offensive. Ground commanders assigned two missiles to each enemy target, operating on the same rationale as that used for directing the Wasps. A total of 265 enemy satellites were now under attack, but countermeasures and self-destructs, which left behind debris, explosions, and radar interference, began to make sufficient trouble for the Monavians.

The antics of Brewdomian commanders had precluded an effective offensive from operating normally. Self-destructing satellites occasionally ended up taking Wasps and ASMs with them, and after the missiles and Wasps destined for Blackhelm had passed through the Brewdomian net, 137 Wasps and 150 missiles (including the fifty launched from the S:t Therese colony) remained to attack Confederate assets.

The 140 Wasps and 400 missiles sent at the Brewdomians now were reduced to 126 and 378, respectively, but they continued on in spite of the Brewdomian countermeasures.

Queen Theodora Islands Provincial Air Command
Queen Theodora Islands
3,000 miles from the continental extent of the Empire

Inside the underground command center, Bell scanned a bank of screens showing radar displays of the area surrounding the province. One screen showed a large concentration of enemy fighters approaching the pursuing Monavians, who were engaged in taking out enemy bombers. Analysts were buried by the work of determining what would be the best way to deal with the Brewdomian fighters, however, they were able to determine that the distance between the enemy fighters and bombers left enough time to attempt an interception and retreat before they Brewdomians could cover the retreating squadron.

“Notify me immediately if the Brewdomians come too close to this facility. I will not tolerate the loss of any part of this complex.”

A chorus of salutes and crisp acknowledgements ensued, before Bell left the room to attend to the defense of the airbase from a possible Brewdomian attack.

Over the ocean

Radar tracking soon located a large number of enemy fighters approaching the Monavian squadrons. At the time of sighting, there would be about five minutes in which the planes could deal with the bombers before flying back to base to enjoy the protection of SAM coverage and a handful of trucks with ground to air rocket capabilities.

The thirty-two fighters which had initially left in pursuit of the B-2s had split up to avoid the bombers’ ECM systems, but had flown through a cloud bank and now came within visual range of the retreating squadron. Ignoring their radar systems, which were being jammed by the fleeing Brewdomian planes, they pilots closed in one the rear bombers, opening fire with their 20mm auto cannons. Hoping to down at least a few of the bombers before the enemy fighters could come within range, they swarmed the rear of the bomber formation, intending to show the enemy the price of war.

Between the continent and the Queen Theodora Islands
Open ocean

The carrier fleet had made some progress over the ocean, intending to come within 1,000 kilometers of the islands to allow for the fighters to take off and land at the airfield, where they could refuel and be used to defend the airbase.

Open space

Aegis continued to make its retreat away from Confederate kinetic kill vehicles, but the pursuing KKVs were gaining distance, and proceeded to take out two other satellites which had been maneuvered behind it for protection. Between the thirty which had been lost, and the now being exacted by the Brewdomians, over forty satellites had been lost, and the laser platform remained in danger.

The Monavians were suffering additional losses over Confederate space. Nearly a dozen more satellites monitoring Confederate fleet movements were wiped out by incoming kinetic kill vehicles, although with the Confederacy sending five or six such devices at every target, chances were that more than one would impact and be lost. The amount of ordinance being expended was enormous, but the Monavians were prepared to lose even more assets over enemy targets.

Propaganda Ministry branch office
Chalcedon, Monavia

In relation to most other government agencies, the minute and usually inactive Ministry of Propaganda was nevertheless able to operate several dozen small offices around the country, the operations of which were directed by a central headquarters in Chalcedon. In t he city itself, three of these branch offices were filled with busy workers, preparing messages to be sent throughout the enemy’s populaces.

Computer monitors lit up with images under construction, showing the mercenaries and hired muscle of the Blackhelm Confederacy as ravenous hordes of rats eating up the substance of their neighbors. Others showed the Arab nations being bribed with oil and money while their freedom is slowly stolen out from under their noses. All manner of messages were being pumped out, destined for Blackhelm, Beiraq, Brewdomia, Blainsville, Ralkovia, and all other members of the Blackhelm Coalition who had announced support of their side.

The Ministry employed a small number of hackers who could locate foreign computer routers, servers, and security systems, infecting them with such messages. Accounts of atrocities committed by the Confederacy were sent from false E-mail addresses to countless destinations. The citizens of foreign states would have the truth forcibly set before them, and while the Monavian approach was by no means purely subtle, and did not have the objective of triggering massive sways in public opinion, it would certainly serve as a distraction as the Damirian propaganda system fed its messages through to its enemies abroad.

Images of all sorts, photographs of Confederate war crimes, indeed, anything that could cause harm on the home front was being prepared for delivery.

[Mephras]

Euphova, Mephras

Even as the war of words had reached a hectic pace between the various nations embroiled in the Blackhelm conflict, the Mephran Diplomatic Office still moved at a tortoise’s speed. Grey haired men shuffled slowly through the building’s corridors, stopping at the occasional doorway to exchange a few words about the complicated situation in which the Empire found itself. Near the center of the labyrinthine structure, a two story reception room had been converted into a makeshift command center to oversee the vast number of communications that would eventually move between ally and enemy alike. The formal furniture had been pushed to the sides of the room, making room for simple metal folding chairs and tables, upon which computers, phones and televisions sat, providing continuous updates on the situation outside their walls.

Yet, even with all this preparation, deliberations were still ongoing on how exactly to phrase the major replies to the outside world. The normally cautious men were lost and afraid of missteps in a situation they had never before seen. Huddled around a group of computers in this central space, a small group of bureaucrats were suddenly startled from their thoughts as the double doors were thrown open. A man easily half the age of any working in the diplomatic office walked briskly into the room, flanked by two attendants. His entrance immediately triggered a chain reaction of bows, as his face was instantly recognizable almost anywhere in the Empire. Lu Zhong, personal secretary, confidante, and depending on who you asked, possible lover to the Empress, looked coldly at those assembled.

“The Empress has grown tired and impatient waiting for you to craft an appropriate response to the lies being broadcast by our enemies in Blackhelm and the Neronian Empire. Therefore, she has prepared her own response, which I have taken down, and shall now convey through the appropriate channels.” Lu’s eyes shot icily towards the Office Chief, visibly affected by the harsh scolding of his absent leader. “The Empress hopes that this is an extreme and singular occurrence, and knows that such problems shall not arise in the future.” Several of the workers quickly moved, providing space for the Imperial Secretary to write out the Empress response to the mining controversy.

Official Statement from the Orchid Throne of Mephras

It has come to our attention that the Neronian Empire has accused the Greater Economic Union of New Manth of placing minefields in the Magnus Ocean. After reading that nations statements on the subject, we have found that their argument, while dressed up in layers of rhetoric, is when unclothed nothing more than one flimsy, circumstantial claim. I, as any woman, am generally flattered when others think me younger than my actual age, but inferring my mental acuity is on level with that of an average nine year old does you no favors. The Manthian response, in stark contrast, provides seven points as to why it would have been improbable for their ships to have laid the mine fields in question. However, we will admit that as of now we have no solid proof of which nation is the perpetrator of these actions. In the interest of truth and fairness, we request full access to this “hard” evidence that you claim to have collected, so that once independently verified it may be at once published on the front page of every newspaper in our nation. However, we are not holding our breath. It was a devotion to justice which brought our nation into this conflict, and we would not ally ourselves with a nation so callus as to plant undeclared minefields, leaving innocents to suffer the consequences. We shall stand behind the nation of New Manth, and vouch for its reputation before the international community.

Seeking truth and enlightenment,

Mei Mian
Empress of Mephras

By the hand of:
Lu Zhong
Imperial Secretary

[Blainesville]

As the members of the Blainesville Royal Guard began marching off of their aircraft and into their formations alongside the runway, they looked much more like a force from 1809 rather than 2009. Their purple jackets, white britches, and gold adornmennts made them a rather easy target for the pickings of their enemy should they engage them in the field, and the boots they were wearing, shiny as they were, were most uncomfortable and not easy to run in. Luckily for these men, however, their general had ordered a nice expeditionary uniform for each of them, specifilcally for this conflict in the jungles of the Blackhelm Confederacy. These uniforms would only be used in the field, however. At HQ, the traditional purple/gold/white arrangement was to be maintained at all times.

The Royal Guard, since its inception, had always been a large proponent of mobility in the field, be it horses, or in modern times the beloved CV9030 Infantry Fighting Vehicles, the primary method of getting around in the Royal Guard (along with the Monteluci M6). Three thousand of these IFV's, the pride and joys of the Royal Guard, along with an equal number of Leopard tanks, sat idly along the side of the tarmac while their crews chatted on top of them, or smoked their cigarettes while blowing smoke into the warm jungle air. Three quarters of a million men were allotted to this humid hell, with a fair share lucky enough to hitch rides with the mechanized brigades. The men in the Dauphin helicopters, however, had the best ride of them all. The Royal Air Services maintained a crack force of helicopter based infantry, men who trained long and hard to be able to operate flawlessly from their air borne platforms. Five hundred Dauphins sat at Sacrament AFB as well, with their full load of men ready to soar at a moments notice. Those unfortunate souls who had the poor luck to be in the infantry, of which there were many hundreds of thousands, would have to either hoof it out along the undoubtedly poorly paved roads (compared to Blainesville standards, at least), or with a tad bit of luck get a ride on a V6, or be picked up by an allied vehicle.

General Steinman made his way to the bunker where the Allied commaders were said to be meeting. Already, he had his war plan in mind. He had, along with him, one thousand Mirage III's, and half that many Dassault Rafales. He had hoped to use these aircraft ro severely disrupt the enemy fleet formations, along with the aircraft of other Allied nations, smashing their enemies from a long range before they ever even made it to shore. If this option was to fail, then he had other plans for the depolyment of his forces, as he saw fit and no other way. He entered the bunker assigned as the meeting spot, and waited for the delegation to begin.

[Imbrinium]

In open water:
As Commodore Gofreddo Li Fonti flew back to the fleet with his staff and battle plans he starts going over the commanders list of the units that would be making the first assault on the shores of BC. As the commodore looked down the list on his laptop he noticed a name that took him back to his younger days. The name was Col. Arabella Romano, sure he thought to himself this couldn’t be the youngest daughter of one his oldest and dearest friends. He knew she was an officer in the Royal Marines but didn’t she was a brigade commander in a line unit. He leaned over and asked her commanding general if this was actual the person he thought she was. The general responded with a yes sir that’s her fine officer hard headed and tuff as nails. She’s a real hard charger that one is.

The commodore responded.

“When we land have her sent over to see me in my office”

“Yes sir, I can have her meet you there when we land sir.”

“That’s fine too”

The commodore remembered back to when he last saw her, she was a mere 15yrs old and hardheaded just like her old man. He knew she had 3 older brothers that where all in the navy, but had forgotten she joined the marines against her father’s wishes. She was the youngest brigade commander in the marines much less for a female.

Back at the fleet:

Col. Romano was going over normal pre-combat checklists with her staff when a navy Sgt walks in and states she is to report at once to the Flag Ship HMS Coromandel. She looked like she just had been shot.

Her Xo jokingly said what did you do now Ma’am we’ve been at sea for over a week and you’re getting called into the commodore’s office.

“I don’t have a clue; I guess I’ll find out soon enough, take over for me here”

“Yes ma’ am”

The Col. Went to her room and changed into her class Bs.

The helicopter landed and the crew chief waved her over to get on and she hurried over and got onto the helio and took her to the HMS Coromandel. Upon landing she was meeting by the commodore’s aid and escorted to his office. Along the way the young colonel was thinking in her head what have I done?

The aid knocks on the commodore’s door.

“Come in”

The aid opens the door and announces that Col. Romano had reported in. The colonel walks over to his desk and salutes the commodore.
“Col. Romano reporting as ordered sir”

“Relax young colonel you’re not in any trouble, you probably don’t remember me but I served with your father and I hadn’t seen you in about 12yrs or so.”

“Yes Sir I remember you now sir”

“Have a seat colonel”

“Yes Sir”

The colonel took a seat in front of the commodore desk but not losing her military bearing.
The commodore sat back in his leather chair.

“What you think about the war colonel?”

“I think it’s in the best interest of our nation to help our allies’ sir”

“How do you feel about being the first to make land fall?”

“That would be great I hate being on a boat, sorry sir no offense”

“None taken” as the commodore laughed
.
“Does your father know you’re headed in first?”

“No Sir and please don’t tell him, my parents worry so much about me being a marine”

“It safe with me, but I have to as are you scared colonel?”

“Sir I would be a fool not to be but I trust my leadership and my men I can ask for anymore than that in war”

“Well said colonel”

As the two officers talked in the commodore’s office the fleet started to move around ship start to spread out and new picket lines where done to maximize the effectiveness of the fleet. Sub hunting helicopters and aircraft flew out to about 60 miles from the ASW ships and there was a CAP of about 50 aircraft up at all times. A small fleet was being prepped to go after the mine fields. Three MHCs and a protection fleet and a hospital ship where to slip away at night and move up to the mine fields and help there.

[Wagdog]

Arc of the Oceans Spanning Nova and Greater Dienstad, As viewed from Wagdian OBSAT Constellation both Prior to and During Antisatellite Phase of Combat Operations; Some Days After Ultimatum Expiry…
From above in space, the skies blazed. Actinic cerulean blue, in an arc spread as if shielding the mottled olive lands below against the eternally relentless onslaught of the vacuum above, struck the contrast with the latter’s blackness fit to match that of an iris’ pupil at maximum dilation.

The view below at first seemed… ordinary; peaceful even, for panoramic views of two regions now supposedly swept up in a war against perceived common affront given to certain nations therein by a certain corporation and its’ own host country, almost. But that would be a mistaken assessment; relying on this one satellite for the any sort of ‘complete’ picture would be, at any rate. The satellite had no ego to offend by way of this fact either; so, adding its’ perspective to its brethren’s, one would learn the truth of the picture despite the subjects’ own desire to avoid such notice for far more egoistic reasons.

Following civilian navigational or else parallel tracks by individual Battle Groups, composed of both primary and secondary command ships and, by group type whether carrier-focused or cruiser-focused, commanding either of two large fleet carriers or else two large missile battle-cruisers escorted, in either case, by two light carriers and ten each of cruisers and destroyers, plus four each attack and guided-missile submarines keeping to the depths, the four particular grand fleets of the Wagdian Revolutionary Navy mobilized for this operation and their four-thousand-plus combined warships began to slowly, yet observably spill from their bases (where not already at sea, as two of them had been either already or else recently) with the required fleet train among their numbers in tow but of course. Within range to be distantly-escorted by the groups’ air and submarine and missile power umbrellas, moreover, would be easily close to that number in amphibious warfare and mine-warfare auxiliaries. More than a fleet was being sent; as well, was going an unspoken but equally unmistakeable message carved invisibly upon their steel hulls, pronounced by the hum of their reactors and engines as they sailed to war:

“The Revolutionary Commonwealth is not amused. Wise is the State that fears Her Excellency the Stewardess’ Wrath in its terrible prospect; and Responsible is the State that, so fearing, gives Her Word but due Audience and Consideration. Behold altogether, the Fates of this Criminal Corporation and Wastrel Confederacy both, and be afraid; beware and if Ye seek not to Aid her Righteous Quest, then make respectful haste out from in front of Her baleful Tread, that Ye might not for disrespect share in Their apportioned Woe by due measure for sharing in Their defiance of Her Excellency’s Will most August and Triumphant!...

The groups set out dispersed, from many ports within the Revolutionary Commonwealth such as Port Butsky or Pikap Atoll or Motsmotts or the capital of Tailville D.R. itself; and in transit they would remain dispersed down to the Battle Group level to prevent what detection could be averted for benefit of traveling under the very strictest of Emissions Control procedures possible. Only what emissions, radar sensing or radio communications or so on, were mission-essential would be permitted at setting out. Only slightly looser rules would apply duration of the transit to the intermediate point; and upon signal from the national command that the fleet were imminently about to cross an enemy ocean-reconnaissance satellite path, the warned group would go as electronically silent as possible in an effort to ‘disappear’ even from what vague track its’ relaxed transit might have generated for those snooping after it. Similar procedures, as best as could at least, would apply to the fourth of these four massive grand fleets and the thousands of amphibious and other auxiliaries being covered by its’ escort; these would eventually split off from the main formation and make for the Etoilean base at Thive where already the first transport aircraft of what was to become a vast Wagdian air-bridge operation were taking wing to drop off the Revolutionary Guard and Marines’ units for the coming campaign to wait until naval supremacy had been achieved, or at least get a small rest rather than the numbing confinement of sailing in vulnerable amphibious transports (now presently empty but for some units’ vehicle sets, supplies and supporting aircraft) straight from the Wagdian homeland to their intended targets once the invasion of the Blackhelm Confederacy truly began.

“For Her Excellency’s most Revolutionary Countenance bends not to Iniquity and Falsity; nay, She verily slays Them and All Whom Aid and Abet Them with the sharp Steel and sharper Word both of Revolutionary Justice wherever they may be found! The Rocks shall cry out with the blood of Her Enemies’ misdeeds, and call them due; The Seas shall vomit Them out from the Deep at but Her merest Command; The Skies shall fly from Their faces, and thereby cast Them into the very Pits of Judgment measure for measure with Their Crimes; Nowhere at all shall there be any Refuge for those who deign to obstruct Her Sublime Justice from its’ Path of execution.”

All this elaborate logistical song-and-dance and camouflaged pantomime might not necessarily fool active radar surveillance from passing satellites above, or moreover passive sonar surveillance by submarine due to the simple noise generated by so many large vessels travelling at high-speed in formation; even if many formations far from each other yes. But at least it could certainly thwart any radar-warning sensors from satellites designed for that task, unless this or that battle group were randomly stumbled upon during a looser emissions-control state too late to be warned of such a passive-warning bird’s orbital run overhead. Which, passive surveillance being usually required to determine where to focus active surveillance assets effectively ahead of time, should if generally thwarted make the job of any synthetic-aperture radar or other such radar-ocean-reconnaissance tasked birds very much harder and slower going. The Confederacy and those Corporate Alliance forces foolish enough to stand with their defense would know yes that someone was coming after them, but the very state of war made that much clear as milk; the more the fleet’s precise size and and destination and ETA could be fudged the better for keeping the initiative in League hands.

In part to cover these movements, the Wagdian contribution to the League joint anti-satellite offensive had been quite extensive all its’ own. From confirmation of the joint fire signal, already the antisatellite assets of every Air Revolutionary Guard Aerospace Systems Wing available leapt into action; altogether across the many units more than twenty-two thousand Starfire launchers were available to be ripple-fired as necessary (though probably far less than that would be required, unless accuracy for the Dartian-designed missiles turned out equally far below probable expectations somehow…), at various pre-programmed Confederate and Griffincrest and other enemy target satellite profiles fed to them by the nation’s fifteen space centers using their own and allied tracking data, gathered both before hostilities and concurrently yet. Primarily under attack were what known tracks of the kinetic-kill satellites could yet be intercepted in time; after them in priority came the other armed Confederate satellites as yet identified, and then those threat birds verifiably belonging to the nations so far assisting the Confederacy in defying simple sense. Firing would continue until either each enemy threat satellite confirmed in such an orbital position to imperil Coalition and/or Novan assets had been engaged at least once, or until all ready Starfire rounds were expended and the long reloading cycle for their rail launchers had to begin. This whole process would naturally take some time, even with space as crowded as it usually was; really an ongoing campaign was afoot rather than a single strike even though it was treated as one for the purpose of planning.

Aboard Air Revolutionary Guard One, shortly after the start of these events, Stewardess of the Revolution Christine minded the updates flowing into her private airborne office cabin absently; she was somewhat attentive yes but to be frank, it had all been explained to her nicely by both Committee and Air Revolutionary Guard war-staff deputies aboard several times by now. Satellite attrition among the Commonwealth’s own assets, well into the fourteen-to-fifteen thousand range for all combined, and most integrated into the Vetakan-origin OBSAT system besides even if not of (purely at least) military function necessarily, was becoming worrisome; approaching thirteen percent already in most brackets and climbing in fact. Still, such were the wages of war; if the Corporates weren’t doing as badly already, they’d be doing worse soon if she had anything to say about it. And, she liked to remind herself, she did in fact; as a woman she might be mortal and as an administrator she’d admit (when she had to) she was probably no more than average at best. What she was good at, however, was finding people; whether to love her or help her or any number of other things. And through them, she liked to think everyone was stronger for the relationships forged; she and Molly certainly were at any rate. She'd received enough lovingly-toned texts and voicemails and so over the past two years’ time to attest to that; still, the emergency absences beyond what their jobs and nationalities involved imposed were growing annoyingly more frequent. I should try to make this the last time or as close as can for a while; make such an example of the Corporation and its’ flunkies daring to show their faces, that others won’t bother with deeds that would force me to keep safe distance from Molly again for a good damned long time.

She felt the VC-25 bank again, her guess at when the Air Revolutionary Guard FA-15E Cardinal escorts from No. 125 Wing, 1st Fighter-Escort Group would match the lumbering command liner’s flight being likely accurate considering all the years she’d grown used to VIP air travel; and its’ resulting protective privileges for someone of her line of work of course. Absently, she noticed the line button on her desk secure-phone panel indicating Director of the CPS Dwayne Michaels was calling again; why hadn’t she noticed that sooner? Anyway, she picked up in time; and she liked to keep the still relatively-young head spook on his game like this. “Yes Dwayne?”

“Ma’am, Your Excellency; all Space Centers engaged in the joint operation report engagement has begun. It will be some time before all targets have moved into range, and longer to confirm battle-damage assessment; but we anticipate satisfactory results taking allied action into account.” That is, securing decisive space supremacy for League and coalition forces; probably not by way of total attrition but that wasn’t necessary really. So long as merely “sufficient degradation” of enemy space capabilities was achieved as to impair their space power across the board irreparably in the near term, some diversion of focus could happen later once this were confirmed. “You asked us to inform you and well, I decided to take the responsibility personally.”

She smiled; she actually liked Dwayne greatly, and he had earned his position indeed in the past. Barely maybe, but well enough; now however he was doing better than that. “Splendid. No need to trouble you with further such, though; unless of course it’s sufficiently grave a development to qualify as new.” The other service headquarters, civil or military, already had links to her office of course; she’d catch them as needed but for now her panel was blissfully tranquil.

“You’ve seen the Allemander reaction, right ma’am?” Even so soon into the war, controversy was showing in some of the League actions. Nobody sane expected absolute and complete approval, no; but the severity of the complaints coming from the neutral state had been growing worrisome to Dwayne of late and he felt he had best probe if his superior were aware of them in full.

“I have; tell me, do you want me to dignify it with the response it truly deserves?” Already Christine had a reputation she believed, if mutedly among diplomatic circles, for being quite foul-tongued to those who sufficiently… annoyed her (putting it very lightly indeed) as to earn the worst of her vocabulary whether in English or French or Atrean or several others besides. And that ridiculous lawsuit the Allemander government had claimed it intended to seek of all nations involved in the war, taking what events in future that could even remotely be implied to be linked somehow (even coincidentally in fact) to either side's anti-satellite campaigns, and demand monetary damages almost in perpetuity from both League and Corporate nations, merited easily pages’ worth of her very baldest invective possible. Maybe even, if she wanted to slip into her dungeon-mistress persona for a while, her own counter-lawsuit if she wanted to react at her most sadistic; Heavens knew the Attorney General’s department was bored out of its’ collective skull most of the time. Oh if she allowed herself but one call to that line, she would do worse than bomb the Allemanders when she was done; she’d have them in arrears to her Government for the next Age and a half if she could get her attorneys to earn their keep that well!

Reading rather a bloodier mental image to her emphasis than was actually intended by her, Dwayne smoothly tried to de-escalate matters. “Not particularly, ma’am; we need to keep our focus on Griffincrest and the Confederacy where Allied strategists agree with us it belongs so far.” He had enough hostile space for his subordinates to scan as was.

Christine pouted visibly as she cast her hazel eyes to the desk mirror a bit; she wanted to sue them, really she did. They were just asking for it! But as much as the petulant bounce of her honey-blonde hair to her left shoulder after ending its' swing argued for such… perhaps not; no indeed she would not. Restraint would be best for the sake of her subordinates’ convenience; and international sanity as well, maybe. Pity that. Ah well; no sense depriving the Yaforites or Akimonadis satisfaction besides in something they were already well advanced with doing themselves, so far as she heard, either. “Very well then, no reply; others have handled it most kindly for us, and I won’t dignify the swine so handled by casting my pearls after them until they behave themselves as proper neutrals should. Or cast after them my precious moments in communication with the world I could very well spend with Molly, say, rather than my lawyers.” She got quite cross indeed when time with either her husband Charles or her girlfriend Molly was intruded upon without necessity, to say the least of it. “You have anything else for me?”

“No ma’am, Your Excellency. I bid you goodnight as always.” With a cheerful grunt of acknowledgment and goodbye she hung up, and once again Dwayne was alone in his own secure bunker some hundreds of meters below the Committee of Public Safety HQ in the capital. He’d rotate out sometime tomorrow, probably for one of the outlying smaller island-cities from a Commonwealth-Realm picked at random, but for now he was content to retire for the night with only a few instructions to the secretary on duty for the current shift to reach him if extenuating events arose. Until then, what of the drama was going to unfold was for the moment beyond his hands to affect once again.