The Conflict in Hutanjia [Closed]

[New Edom]

CENTRAL EASTERN NESSELBERG

"Oh my God, stop it, stop it!" groaned Nestor, aiming and shooting at one of the living torches, just to make the horrible screaming stop. He was shaking like a leaf--it had gone beyond winning and driving the bastards back--this was murder, and he felt like he would shake out of his skin. He realized he was screaming too, shouting the words.

Corwin still had the battle heat in him; he was barely aware that he was shooting down human beings, but he had that gift--when the shooting started, he only thought of keeping his troopers alive and killing whoever got in the way of it; an animal nature came upon him that somehow was guided by a cold part of his brain. It showed him what to do and how it had to e done, and he did it. It was summed up, by his superiors, as saying that he had extraordinary coolness under fire. It was part of why his platoon both feared and admired him. They never knew how afraid he could be, and now was one of those times. He was reloading even as he heard the unearthly screams, and saw the rush of flaming people rolling and waving frantic limbs coming out of the forward trenches, and saw others rushing with weapons held up shrieking and howling like animals at his unit. He had no idea how many there were, or what they intended save killing he and his platoon. From his point of view, he had nearly a dozen wounded in his trench, some of them still able to act, passing ammunition, others screaming like hurt children as they realized that their blood was pumping awfully through leg wounds, through punctures of their bodies with their fluids and organs pulsing out. He was terrified inside but the thing that was not quite him finished loading, lifted his rifle and fired a 40mm grenade off, then fired bursts at one, two, three of the oncoming UFF soldiers. "Hold the line!" the other one in him roared. "Damn your souls, you hold the line!"

Captain Zeldorinius was another kettle of fish; he had his Baran background, his training, his experience guiding him, using the UAV he was linked to to guide the platoons' support, the mortars and rockets keeping it hot, the helicopters guided to hunt down and destroy the enemy reinforcements. All the platoons had been hurt in his Troop and the others holding the line, but the enemy casualties were worse--he hoped. Nothing could be doing well out there, the helicopters had not been damaged, the jets had pounded the shit out of the forward line. Unless the UFF had a brigade or division out there they were finished, he was sure of it. Reporting this to the Colonel, he was pleased that she immediately trusted him, but by God she should by now.

At Colonel Weber's HQ, she ordered E Troop to 'mount up'. The Master of Horse himself would lead a counter charge, as they put it--insert a recon force beyond the defensive perimter to see what was what on the ground itself. According to UAVs and EW planes attached to the Estos they were pretty sure that they'd broken the enemy, but she liked to have boots on the ground report it for absolute stinking sure.

The encampment was in flames; buildings had been damaged, collapsed or torn up by rockets, mortars and other light artillery; it looked bad but it could have been a lot worse, Weber comforted herself. A lot worse.

Palace War Room

Unwerth managed to conceal his exhalation of relief. "Alright. Let's get to work on our plans, friends. Time is a-ticking. Every day the Falkasians and the other communists are sending forces to reinforce the Cardwiths and other areas. I want those islands cut off, to start with. McNernian naval task force, it needs to get on the stick on that, ASAP. Can that happen, Prince?"

"We need to start now. They've been building up for a month." growled Galt. "While they're still organizing, while they're still figuring out to do. We have our targets, we all know our places. Let's put up the green light."

Unwerth looked at the other allied commanders--Uli, McNernian, and at Hespatu. "Well, gentlemen? I think all we need are the precise operational plans, and then go. Just the detail work, and then we're ready."

[Falsea]

North Cardwith Island

The unloading efforts doubled as Cardwithian troops arrived just in time. Boxes of ammunition, firearms, food, gas, and other vital supplies were loaded quickly into the trucks as the last of the Falsean naval vessels docked in the shores of the Northern Island. Colonel Black, after inspecting the last of the troops and directing them to head towards the trucks, faced the Cardwithian Officer.

"The pleasure is all ours. It is an honourable duty to fight alongside forces that oppose inefficient monarchies such.", he exclaimed, shaking the officer's hand.

He followed the officer and looked at the direction he was pointing at, recognizing the faint skyline of Marksville. It was about to start, he thought to himself, as the Falsean forces scrambled towards the trucks, ready to depart at a moment's notice.

"It is good to hear that we are welcome to settle in Marksville. I initially planned to set up camp here, but it seems like a base near Marksville sounds more...safe. I will have my men and the the 6 squads of aircraft we bought along towards Marksville, while the rest of the seamen here handle the ships.", he said, as a squadron of Mi-24 and Mi-28 helicopters hovered past them, heading towards Marksville.

The first contingent of Falsean troops on board their vehicles started to head out as well. Colonel Black turned to the officer one last time, before heading to a nearby APC.

"I think we should continue this at the city. Much information needs to be acquired before we can lend aid, commander."

[New Isotopia]

Nessleberg

As the sound of movement came, not that far ahead, the Echo Force Operatives went prone on the wet jungle floor, with their rifles pointed not that far ahead. But after the callsign came from the UFF Lieutenant, the men relaxed and the Captain replied, 'tomb'. Once it was determined that they were UFF soldiers the men got up and walked towards their newly found comrades. The Isotopian Operatives proceeded to shake hands with various UFF personnel, many Isotopian men had tiered looks on their faces after a whole night of marching. Captain Jango Riordian walked up to Jeramiah and replied.

"I am Captain Jango Riordian of the Echo Force, our army's principle special forces outfit, 1 Regiment, Foxtrot company and it's good to be here." Riordian looked much more happy and awake than the other Isotopian soldiers. Several of the men also carried man portable SAM's such as SAIGA's and Stinger missiles.

"So we've been hearing explosions and gunfire over night on our way over here, whats the situation?"

Hesttens Airbase

Various aircraft, from Soviet/Russian SU-25's and various MiG variant's to American Fa-18's sat down on the pavement of the airport, at that same moment a patrol of SU-33's landed and a squadron of MiG-29M's took off to replace the SU-33's for the regular patrols. It was part of New Isotopian doctrine to keep up aircraft in the air at all times ready to intercept any enemy aircraft.

Also at the airport were various helicopters such as modernized Mi-24's and Mi-28's. While the attack helicopters were station at the airstrip while the transport choppers stayed at the fort for transport. Besides the regular, around the clock air patrols, SAM systems were set up all around the strip to protect it as well, SA-6's and other, more advanced systems were set up at the fort, the airstrip, and the other Isotopian bases on the island.

[New Edom]

The Council Police

The Council Police, all women, 200 strong, arrived in their own vehicles, mostly 4x4 Fox Utility vehicles painted a sleek black, and they wore black as well. They wore black jackets and combat pants tucked into neat boots, and were armed with submachineguns, shotguns, and assault carbines; they brought with them radio, surveillance, electronic warfare and telephone and satellite equipment; they were brisk and efficient and tough. Many of them had been considered criminals by the Monarchist government; some of them had been criminals; they were all people who had been under death sentence at one time or another and were deeply devoted to the Free Congress leaders for saving them and giving them purpose and direction and focus. They were predominantly a distraction. General Harcourt had been given general charge of preparing the mission and placed it under the command of Major Josefin Harman, a blunt faced woman with bristle shaven head, the body of a rugby fullback and a voice like gravel. She was only the apparent commander; the other was a secret.

New Edom had had a fixation on the island called Hutanjia for the last several months or so. The islands represented the possibility of great natural resources which had been prospected by brave souls earlier. And thus geological surveyors, engineers of various sorts and infrastructure to support them had been arriving for a while.

Establishing the oil and mineral rights and usage promised was of course a big concern. So that when Ruthan Demetrios arrived in Hutanjia a month earlier it was partly to be there to offer her help and assistance, along with that of a small group of observers, but really her job was to take over general internal security with the KHS compromised. However this was never stated as the purpose.

Of course this arrival was merely the appearance. Like the fruiting body of a fungus, it was merely what was apparent. As Unwerth had explained, Council Police had already been stealthily arriving in the form of geologists, electricians, construction workers, business executives. There were plenty of these who were real, but a number of others who were not. They had been quietly observing, establishing surveillance for nearly a month now.

For her own part she had wanted to get out on the streets and get a feel for the place. She looked like a well educated, healthy professional woman, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail; she had a trim athletic figure but for a startlingly inviting curvaceous bottom, wearing light tropical clothing of a fashionable but practical sort. She used her attractiveness to her advantage, acting in a respectable way but so that her assets, as it were, were potentially distracting. She always seemed either like a tourist or a businesswoman while on the go--someone normal. Several Council Police officers, expert in such things, radiated around her as security no one was aware of. Sometimes she traveled with a man who posed as a lover, boyfriend or traveling companion. Currently she was a middle ranking executive with Fabian and Kirkpatrick, a New Edomite Defense firm that acted as a conduit for the huge arms dealerships that dominated New Edom's business back home. The Security Teams that had been brought in had no idea who she even was, which amused her. They would mostly be guarding government installations and acting as the local police and security force. She had a deeper mission. As part of her contract she had provided for example the soundproof communications room that Unwerth had had built. While Unwerth knew who she was, pretty much no one else did, though a few senior officers recognized her as "that pushy woman who seems to be everywhere that money and weapons are involved."

[McNernia]

Palace War Room
Chastille


"I can do it, Petersons ships are ready, we have been running Whiskey Deltas in support of the Ground Forces." Emett paused as his aide tapped him on the shoulder. He looked at the tablet. He grimaced as if he saw something nasty.

"General we have a problem." he read the reports, "Dr Nellis declared the Independance of the Cairdwaiths. In other news Touchstone is out of bed. And my brother is trying to bring the UFF to peace talks. And we would like the New Edomite fleets help."

_______________

From: His Imperial and Royal Majesty King Emilion IV
Prime Minister Brian Tyler

TO: Dr Charles Nellis of the Cardwaith Islands

Greetings


From the assesments conducted of the sitiuation of Hutanjia the high taxes seem to be the grounds for Rebellion that you have been undertaking. That and the dissouloution of Parliament seem to be the greivances you have. Also the methods of the KHS. Correct us if we have been in error.

______________________

Mcnernian Royal Navy
Wishton sea

The sky was clear and flight operations were under way. The RHA had put in an air support call to their own air force. The MRNFAA had been tired out. Elite pilots aside they were human, and not to call them cowards but the prospect of fighting an enemy that could not bee secene. Who would not have troubles. Peterson ordered the fleet to move.

The six F class submarines entered Cardwaithian waters under the over of darkness, the Primus was already on station. There was a major communist fleet in the harbors of the Cairdwaiths. There would be time for the Royal Navy to hunt, the southern coasts of the Cardwaiths were checked, the Fleet moved in.
________________________

Esclation

The MRIA people arrived along side the Council Police, more to take the KHS on if they would prove troublesome also if the New Edomites were to make any sudden moves on Mcnernias interests. The Mcnernian policy was to improve the standard of living and provide such things so as to prevent a war or other crisis breaking out.

The MRIA presence was through the MROC wich had expressed intent in conducting investment in the Mineral rghts some RIA had arrived as MROC personell. The agents had been on Hutanjia, there were black agents on loan from the Rhodana Federation Intelligence Service. They had gone in when the MRIA top tier had gone in. So there was some information on the PAST units, that and the SBS had bagged a PAST trooper.

More Royal Marines arrived another Commando, 34 arrived another ten companies. They would be used in the invasion. They had light tanks wich were offloaded from the amphibious dock ship MRS Province. They were excited to enter the action but had to wait.

[Neu Engollon]

VESSELLE AIR BASE

In a secure wing off the Uli Regiment's quarters and offices, was the detention area, or pen. There were 10 cells, or 'apartments', only the end two actually looked like little efficiency's. The FSIS agent was in one, and they had 3 UFF officers in the other one. The other 7 UFF officers and two high ranking UFF NCOs were scattered among the other cells, which were not quite comfortable, but sterile and bright, with barred windows.

They would come up short in the trade, even trying to bring along the NCOs, but its all they had, thanks to KHS buffoonery and a high rate of banzai charges on the part of most of the UFF officers on Nesselberg in the current campaign.
As the main caretaker of the rebel prisoners, Captain Shlomo Ari-Galan of the Uli 6th Platoon, Lambda Company, had not bothered to tell the UFF prisoners that they were now irregular forces of the new DSR of the Cardwith Islands. Better to let them think they had less rights. Besides, the legitimacy of the independence declaration was debatable and farsical, anyway.
Captain Ari-Galan walked to the end cell where the FSIS operator resided.

He was followed by one Uli guard, Sgt. Perry Morrison, a former Australian SAS man. He barely felt he even needed one guard, but regulations were regulations. He felt confident in his Israeli Sayeret Mat' kal commando training, especially krav maga skills, that he would be able to handle just about anything short of heavy weapons. There was no way an RPG or MG was on the other side of the door waiting for him.
He palmed the pad next to the locked door and walked in.

"Knock knock, Mr Voroshnev?"
The agent sat on the bed, looking towards the window, he looked back at the Uli commando captain. The holding cell/room looked austere, as if nothing had been touched.

"Are we ready to go? It's that time. I need to get you out first and loaded in the truck, before we get the other prisoners. Then we will have a short drive to the docks, where we board our LCAC hovercraft",
Ari-Galan spread out his arms like a tour guide, "Then a most enjoyable sightseeing trip of the north Wishton Sea to beautiful Kenega. Finally, a touching reunion with your Falkasian controllers and their UFF lackeys. Ahh. It swells my heart, I tell you."
He stepped over to the other side of the room and pointed, "So, out you go, Illyich."

PALACE WAR ROOM

Lt. Col. Galien nodded at General Unwerth's words.

"Yes, I think time is of the essence. We are ready. The Option One plans have been integrated into our training. I worry about naval support, since our Regiment doesn't really have any of our own, we will be relying on the RHN, McNernians and your fleet, General.
I was going to say that the POW swap would interfere with one of our units, but other arrangements have been made. So we are set to go."

Galien readjusted himself, suddenly looking slightly uncomfortable, "On another topic, might I say this, I think we all know how we feel about the KHS, but I also thought we were keeping it internal and amongst ourselves.

Now, that being said, as we are auxiliaries of the RHA, I think we can say that it doesn't look good, Prince Emmett, that your government would throw us under the bus, as they say."
He laid a hand on his own chest and also pointed towards General Hespatu and Major Yopete.

"Specifically, in a public arena: The fallout from the Cardwithian Independence...Your government called out Atave, and by association, the Hutanjian Government, in an official communique released to the world. Such carelessness with officially worded declarations...
It tends to chisel away at our unity as an alliance, sir. Possibly this Falkasian propaganda is getting to you all, to be lashing out at your allies such?"

OVER WESTERN NESSELBERG

Maroon Flight was pounced on as soon as they got on station over the battle between the RHA companies and the Falkasian Marines and UFF rebels. They were ready and had been practicing for the aggressiveness they expected from the FAF. They didn't exactly match up to the Falkasian Shadowhawk fighters, but they made up for the deficiency by deft skill in split second maneuvers. Two Falkasian fighters squeezed in on Maroon Three. They, in turn, were given chase by the other two Gripens of Maroon Flight.

They expected soon to be reinforced by Aqua Flight, consisting of Lyran built Warhawks. They were minutes away, just lifting off from Vesselle Air Base. Close by, the RHAF MIGs let fly with missiles at another grouping of Falkasian Shadowhawks. They knew that their only hope of going toe to toe with the Falkies was to keep their distance and try for long distance shots with their ordnance. Once they closed with the Falkasians planes, they would not be able to compete in speed and pulling as tight of turns as the more modern enemy Lyran built Shadowhawks.

Maroon Three banked up and hard right, at the same time, Maroon One and Two let fly with two missiles at very close range on the Falkasian fighters.

ZETA COMPANY BASE
CENTRAL NESSELBERG

Major Laurent Cogant was in a bunker, coordinating the defense against the UFF assault for Zeta Company, Uli Regiment. They had gotten two minutes of warning of what might be coming, thanks to the staggering of assaults. The blitzkrieg on the New Edomite 21st Lancers base had given them an inkling that they might be next. Two minutes had not been enough time, though, to contact the 7th Platoon patrol and get them back safely to base.
Now, of course, reports of an apparently aborted attack on the Havenian base were transmitted in.

They still didn't get off light. The base aid station was full of casualties. Next to a bunker behind the makeshift base hospital, a line of 18 Uli troopers' bodies lay under a tarp, victims of the mortar and rocket attacks on the bunkers and mess tent. A third of the base structures were smoking or on fire. A fire brigade had been formed to try to douse the flames, especially the ones on the bunker next to the ammo depot.
Cogant was on the radio to Vesselle, "We need another pass from the Vipers. Yes, I know...I...We'll have our gunners zooming in on their RPGs. We'll keep them under control."
He listened for a minute, then turned to a runner, a sergeant.

"Are all our M2's and RMG's still up in action? I only hear 2 of them. We need RPG suppression ready!"

A rocket hit the bunker slit, sending shrapnel whizzing into the bunker. They ducked. A Uli corporal fell back dead to the bunker floor, his face shredded to hamburger from the blast. The sergeant and the radio man helped the Major sit down. Blood ran down his face, all over the front of his uniform. He'd obviously lost an eye and was disoriented.
The sergeant turned to a private, "Tell Captain Vedaggio that he's now in charge." He pointed at another PFC, "Make sure all M2s and RMGs are manned and ready to give cover fire for the Vipers and Agustas. Now!"

[New Edom]

The Palace War Room

"I agree," said Prince Enoch with a thin smile. "And in addition, I thought this maverick nonsense was over. It is hardly for McNernia to deal with Atave. You ought to be thanking General Unwerth, frankly, for standing in the way of you just now."

"It wasn't for you though," said Unwerth, glancing at Emmett. "It was for the benefit of all the command staff. I can't have that weasel...ferret...pine marten...whatever his nickname is...coming in here and barking at my officers. Now: we all have work to do, but Prince Emmett--I don't want these shoot from the hip moments happening again, are we clear about that? Now: electronic warfare and signals intelligence operations---I want this operation covered like none has ever been before. I want it obscure down to the last minute if possible. We will begin the operation tomorrow evening, and ideally begin our strike at dawn the following day. If there are no further questions--I think we are as ready as we will ever be."

"General," said one of his staff officers, looking up from his field laptop, "I think the situation is stable along the front at Nesselberg. It's really too bad about our casualties though--"

"Alright, Captain, this is a report, not an audition," said Unwerth testily. "Just the facts."

"No numbers yet, but Colonel Weber estimates 'dozens', sir," said the young officer, flushing.

"Very well. Keep us informed." Unwerth grunted, checking his watch. He was tired; constant planning and intelligence reviews were draining him, but he held it in as best he could. "I suggest everyone get a few hours' rest if there's nothing else immediately. Prince Enoch, you take first command watch, followed by General Hespatu, followed by Colonel Galien, followed by me again."

[The Cardwith Islands]

Code: Select all

To: His Imperial and Royal Majesty King Emilion IV
Prime Minister Brian Tyler
From: President Charles Nellis, DSR of the Cardwith Islands

I am not a Governor, first of all. You have oversimplified our situation. Yes, all the things that you mentioned are factors, but the scale of mismanagement, neglect and persecution of our people goes beyond that. I think we will have to put this meeting off until a later time. Neither myself, nor my advisers and officers have time for such trivialities. Until later.

Pres. Nellis

ENROUTE TO MARKSVILLE
NORTH CARDWITH ISLAND

Captain Rutangu ran to catch up and climb into the APC with Colonel Black.

"Well, Colonel, time is definitely of the essence. I will give you as much information as I have to give. We need to coordinate with the 2nd and 3rd Regiments, which are on the west and south of the island from here. On a larger scale, we have to coordinate defenses with the Falkasians on East Cardwith and New Isotopians on West Cardwith, as well as the other Cardwithian Regiments and Brigades. Reports from the capital at Hesttens are worrisome."

They neared Marksville as the Cardwithian Captain leaned in to hear the Falsean Colonel.


OVER WESTERN NESSELBERG


Sword Flight arrived over the battlefield, just as the RHAF Migs were sending off their first volley of missiles at their Falkasian targets. They swooped in on the RHAF MIGs, so close that they opened up with their 30mm guns instead of arming missiles. Revenge would be sought for all the damage inflicted on the UFF and the Cardwiths from the air over the past year.


ACROSS THE CARDWITHS

UFF/Cardwithian troops climbed out from the Falkasian hovercraft with their Falkasian marine comrades, re-enacting a Dunkirk of sorts for the modern age. There were still many more fighting for their lives just across the channel. Not many had made it across during the evac, and those that had were in pretty ragged shape.

Around the islands, brigades of the Army of the new Democratic Socialist Republic of the Cardwith Islands worked hard to build defenses. There were hundreds of miles of beaches, with no way to know where an enemy attack might come from. They did their best to prepare and set up fortifications, barriers, mines and other traps they hoped would slow down any invader, they covered as much ground as they could.

[Falsea]

North Cardwith Island

"Alright, let's move out!", yelled Colonel Black through the APC, as Commander Rutangu jumped in. Soon enough, the last batch of military trucks and APCs left the landing site, and headed southward, to the city of Marksville. The roar of various MiG-type aircraft could be heard above, as the beach disappeared from sight.

"I agree. The sooner we link up with forces from the East and West, the better. As per your recommendations, the main bulk of my forces, the 5th Infantry Regiment, composed of 3000 of my men, will set up our base of operations in Marksville, alongside the 6 flights of aircraft I requested. The other group, the 21st Infantry Regiment, composed of 1300 troops alongside the 34th Armored Battalion, composed of 500 troops and about 50 T-90 tanks will set up further south. Furthermore, I'll have the naval officers relocated our small fleet to a nearby port city."

They arrived soon after in the outskirts of the city, although the second batch of troops didn't stop. Those that were included in the 5th Regiment began setting up their tents, as the aircraft headed to the nearest runway.

"Well Commander, tell us how we can be of use, and we'll get with it as soon as possible."

[New Edom]

Nesselberg

Blood and human filth pattered and rained down in the field hospital where the last of the wounded had been evacuated. With the arrival of reinforcements from the Airborne Brigade, the 21st had been bit by bit evacuated, and had been withdrawn to the Sterry to rest and recover. In a way it was a relief to be back on the ship again, but by the time the last of their equipment had been squared away and they had numbly shoved some hot food in the mess into their gullets they were done, truly done, and many of them sank into an exhausted sleep. Corwin, like all the other NCOs, made sure he was the last in his unit to do so; he had long ago learned to feign being tougher than anyone his Troopers knew. Along with other platoon leaders and staff he walked down the rows of bunks with Captain Zeldorinius as the last of the Troopers were bedding down. Captain Zeldorinius turned to them and said, “Well, we’ve had the Devil’s own night. Full kit inspection when they’re up, and a going over by the docs. Thank you all. Carry on.”
“Sir.” They quietly came to attention; he nodded to them and he and the other officers withdrew. Corwin at last made his way to his bunk, stripped down and sank gratefully down, and within moments was asleep.

Lieutenant-Colonel Elena Weber was tired too, but she couldn’t sleep just yet. Soon (ideally) Sergeant-Major Beor would report on the condition of the Troopers, and then she would go to her bed. As she sat in her chair in her stateroom (she had the only private one of all her officers) she felt a pleased flushed stinging heat on her backside, the result of her encounter with the General, who had reprimanded her for not putting out patrols on a regular basis.

That had been his custom with her ever since they had met at the Academy. It was the one thing she was ambivalent about, the one thing in her life that was bizarrely ambiguous. Unwerth had, as an instructor, fought on her behalf, had encouraged her at every turn. When she joined the Academy she was in awe of Felicity Romain, the outsider who had actually gained her full commission in spite of everything the establishment had flung at her for being a woman. It had been hard, nevertheless, for the young women who came after her. They all had nasty nicknames to endure. Elena’s was “The White Rat” for her slight overbite, her pale skin and hair and blue eyes. That was one of the nicer names she had been called.

There were certainly other senior cadets or officers who had tried or succeeded in molesting the female cadets. An ugly incident before she’d arrived had made them somewhat more discreet—a female cadet who was apparently raped every night until she went mad and killed one of her instructors with a bayonet, or another who had hung herself. But in Unwerth’s case, something clicked. She blushed just thinking about it. In all the years she had known him it had never gone beyond what happened in his stateroom when he flew out briefly to speak to the Marine and Lancer commanders, in a private interview.

You know that you should have put out patrols?

“Yes, General.”

Why didn’t you put out patrols, Colonel Weber?

“No excuse, General”. That was the only right answer with Unwerth.

So deliciously sore after, blinking, flushed and trembling, feeling a lassitude and shuddering joy.

“Will that be all, General?”

That will be all, dismissed.

They had almost always served together in some capacity. Unwerth was married—a good marriage to a Baran woman of good family, and had children, good connections. Whatever was between them had never been spoken of, never referred to, and never went beyond these brief encounters. What they both felt, she knew, was happiness when they served together. And for herself—she had no lovers, frequented no brothels. The encounters were all the more intense for their rarity.

Helicopter Carrier Draco

Weather Observation Flight finished their report, and made their way back to their seats. Rear-Admiral Grimstad then stood and made his way to the front. He was in a sense the focus of attention, because he was of course the admiral and had a bunch of ribbons and a gravely manly voice almost made for making a briefing sound serious, even if it was only on a change of ration components or family aid requisition forms. However today everyone was distracted by the display of Colonel Abishai Hagar's display of super-patriotism. The 18th Light Troops were in the area, and it was deemed that they would be best suited for doing the ground side of the evacuations. The Colonel was a splendid figure of a man--which was very clear because he was completely stark naked, and had had his insignia stenciled onto his body along with tropical camouflage paint. It was the right of he and his soldiers to waive the Exceptions if they chose save under the most dire extremes. However there were in the room female personnel, particularly intelligence, medical, and the commander of the 11th Air Support Squadron, who was sternly looking at two of her junior officers who, noticing the Colonel’s state of ‘action readiness’ got the giggles uncontrollably, and was harshly whispering, "I will seriously put the both of you on report! You're Naval officers, not schoolgirls!"

"So orders as follows: Helicopter Carrier Group Draco, with Frigates Culverin and Falconet will, bringing 6 companies of the 18th Light Troops Regiment as ground forces security head for The naval element will be led by me personally. At the same time TH-300 under the command of Lieutenant-Commander Rachel Zelek will prepare to assist with both insertions and withdrawals as needed, supported by the 11th Support Groups refueling units. Escort for air units will be provided by the carrier group. If there are no further questions, Commander Ornan will hand out your orders. May Christ preserve us and all our people." He walked out, they all rose to attention.

The soldiers of the 18th Light Troops (Raiders) were skilled hunters; in fact 30% of the unit were Elwe or had Elwe blood in them. Those who were were mostly Yerg Elwe. Some had been added who were Teman Rangers as well. The 18th was one of the toughest units of the Edomite Army. It was one of the few that could truly compete with the Elwe for woods-knowledge. The other men and women were either from the bush of Teman or northern Bara. They were all ready--nay--eager--for action.

[Neu Engollon]

PALACE WAR ROOM

Lt. Col. Galien nodded at Generals Unwerth and Hespatu. "Yes sir, we'll be ready to go soon. The Uli air support, aside from the one's engaged over western Nesselberg and the Zeta base, are good to go. I already had my Company commanders get to loading up and briefing their support staff. I think we'll be ready to ship in a few hours, General."

With General Unwerth's dismissal, he turned to attend to matters.
After checking and signing the dry erase glass for his Command shift in the War Room, he went to make some calls and issue orders before catching a cat nap.


320 km NORTH OF NESSELBERG
ENROUTE TO KENEGA
WISHTON SEA

Three fast attack craft surrounded the light transport ship of the RHN. On board that wide-hulled ship was a Uli LCAC hovercraft, ready to launch at a moment's notice.
These particular RHN FACs were mounted with MK 44 Bushmaster II 30 mm chain guns, AA missiles, CIWS cannons and a good radar/sonar battery. It wasn't Aegis, but it was the top of the line that the Hutanjian Navy could access and afford. They weren't outfitted to hunt other ships, but they would provide adequate defense for most anything the rebel side could throw at them.
Captain Ari-Galan stood up on the bridge of the RHNS Durujaga and looked out on the open sea wistfully. He turned to Sgt. Morrison,

"Ben-zona!" (son of a bitch!), he swore in Hebrew. "Not that this is a khara (crap) mission, it should be interesting, but I really wanted us to be in on the bigger fun."

"Yes, sir," Perry Morrison replied, "Hopefully we can join the other blokes for the Big Show, if its not over by then." There was just a small handful of the Uli 6th Platoon, L Co. troopers. The rest of the mission was comprised of three squads of Royal Hutanjian Army Rangers from the 4th RAR Regiment.

"We shall see. Maybe not the big first punch, but we'll see some action before the week is out, Sergeant. Mark my words. Anyway, let's focus on this mission. This could be a total lh' zayen (fuck-up), or it could be a cakewalk. Hopefully a handshake and kiss on the cheek and we'll be on our way. Do you have the nature preserve maps? Because if this goes south and we can't bug out back to the ships, we may be slogging our way through the Kenegan wonderlands."

The Aussie tapped his cargo pocket. "Sealed in a waterproof pouch here, Sir. From what I saw, they're more swamps than beautiful enchanted forests."

"Really, I think you men know the drill. Watch your opposites and make sure the Rangers don't send the rebels over until my signal. Especially the FSIS man. He's the piece de resistance. If we give him up before we secure Lieutenant Kernau - Ha-matzav khara! (We're in deep shit!) So, I need you to keep on those Rangers with the timing. Got it?"

"Yes, sir. You can count on this goyim."

Ari-Galan smiled at the former Oz SAS man, "Tov!"

VESSELLE NAVAL DOCKS

The rest of 6th Platoon, Lambda Company, Uli Regiment were loading up gear and ammo for the big move. They were the veteran raiders of the Mossview Park POW camp. Mossview Park was just their latest venture, inside or outside of the Uli Regiment.

6th Platoon was the elite of the elite, cream of the crop for the Uli Regiment. Many of the seasoned vets had been recruited from the British and Australian SAS, US Navy Seals, Delta Force, Special Forces, German GSG-9, Israeli Sayeret Mat'kal and even a handful of Russian Spetsnaz. It was the only Uli-Schwyz unit that was not predominated by Neu Engoleens, although there was some representation of former vets of the NEDM Alpen Regiments as well.
While Captain Ari-Galan was away, they were supervised by Lieutenant Robert Everton, a former US Marine Recon/LRRP vet. He stood on the docks with the RHN sub captains. They said little and kept checking their watches and phones.

The Uli commandos loaded up the three Han-Class submarines, the pride of the Royal Hutanjian Navy. It would be a tight fit, but they didn't have far to go. The submarines had been stripped of any unneccessary equipment and were down to a skeletal crew so they could carry the Uli gear and zodiacs.

The LCACs just weren't practical for this mission, but they would work just fine for the other Uli companies that were in the process of shaking out the hovercrafts for the other upcoming mission of the Regiment.
Other companies were loading up, cleaning and prepping gear for the voyage in LCACs, LA-214 transport helicopters, C-10s and other conveyances. The nearly 200 MOWAG Piranhas and 20 Sankji-made ML 12 Chronicles APCs had made it from the Uli-Schwyz base just in the nick of time. They were unloaded, only to turn around and be reloaded on to the landing transports with a few of the retained Saracens they hadn't sold off to the Hutanjians.

In the meantime, along with satellite and other aerial/drone data from their allies, they ran UAVs constantly to update them on the changing tactical situation on the ground in the Cardwiths. A couple were lost to ground missiles and one to a Falkasian Shadowhawk, but they still got back a pretty comprehensive picture. The Uli RC-135 circled northern Nesselberg with a Sparrowhawk escort from Black flight.

Only a handful of base staff at Vesselle and the besieged Zeta Company would be left behind on Nesselberg, plus some Uli air patrols and support crew at Trakanu, Nevorn. H Hour approached.

ZETA COMPANY FOB
CENTRAL NESSELBERG

Captain Vedaggio was a lead from the front kind of officer. Today was no exception. Kalashnikov rounds impacting in the sandbags around him didn't seem to phase him. He stomped about, gathering up a platoon's worth of men and they began to work their way out from the base center.

They hunted down UFF rebels, SG 550 rifles in one hand and entrenching tool/battle axes in the other. Some of them were still on their feet after taking enemy rounds that slipped by their body armor. A couple men fought on after bandaging up deep lacerations caused by rebel machetes. Most of the rebels fought to the death. The rest were bound up, hands and feet with zipties, rope or belts and left for later. In this slow grueling process, they cleared out the invaders.

Meanwhile, the Vipers and Agustas were back to work their way from the base perimeter inwards, working over the penetrated areas and the UFF rebels that tried to hide from the withering fire. Major van Aardel was in the lead AH-1Z Viper, directing the counterattack.
Uli machine guns, grenade launchers and AT launcher teams did their best to take out the rebel RPG teams before they could target the Uli attack helicopters.

The 7th Platoon patrol that had been stuck outside the base during the initial attack, worked their way around the treeline perimeter, taking out treetop snipers and dug in PK MG and RPG teams. Slowly, the rebel attackers were snuffed out, group by group, step by bloody step.

[McNernia]

Palace War Room
Chastille


Emett nodded grimly, "Yes sir, wont happen again sir." he paused. "I dont like that man Atave, Balkeford does not either." he looked at Colonel Gailen. "They smeared my brothers wife and his infant daughters. God have mercy on the Falkasians. May they be thankful that there is honor in our family and some degree of wisdom. Also we have rationality. And well, I and Admiral Peterson have been singled out by the Falkasians and accused of WAR CRIMES." Emetts pain was written all over his face. "There are protests at home against the war and well, insurgents as well in the north."

He leaned on a map table composing himself. "Parliament is comitted to this but the protests could change things. Things have changed, Prime Minister York Resigned and the MNPF was dissolved. Youth have become infatuated with the "Mcnernian Spring." My brother is a victim of Falkasian propaganda. what do we do Colonel?"


SBS Barracks
Nesselburg


The squadron had met in a hangar on Nesselburg at RHAF Vesselle. They were all good soliders, there were Rangers to. The Breifing was conducted by the Squadron commander a cycnical man by the name of Tom. He rapped on the podium and had everyone come to order. The whole squadron and the rest looked at the man. He looked out at all of the troopers.

"Alright lads, we have sitiuation." he paused "No doubt you heard what Foxtrot 2-3 did on Nesselburg. Well I am here to say that we are going to be going in again."

A man raised his hand. "Where to?"

"Boys we are going to the lair of the enemy. Chock full of commies."

"Sir there are three islands."

"Were going in. Quite a bit of this unit."

"To do what."

"Bloody raise Chaos." he looked around. "You have a dossier on the table in front of you, look it over. Tomorrow we will put the teams together for the landings. All of you work with everybody or have done so. So I dont see any reason there should be any trouble. There are seven submarines we will be shipping with. I say only some will go others will stay."



Chastille
Mcnernian Forces


The men of the Royal marines 23 Commando would be left on Nesselburg. The Kings Havenians came back to Chastille to prepare for the invasion. The men were tired, their brothers had fallen. Mcnernian officers and some Havenians. Colonel Mikarsky had killed one or two with his wazkashi. They moved about the city in off duty faituages, they would have some security duties in the interm for those not tired. The men were in good spirits.


High over Hutanjia


The large aircraft headed along the edge of space. It was an AR-95 an Armed Reconissance bird flying from the Kaisong Islands. The crews who manned these hypersonic aircraft were truly good pilots, you had to be. They wore pressure suits in side the pressurized cockpit to be a sort of gaurntee. Grp Captian David Ilran was the one upfront. He looked at the controls, he had done shit like this before and he was ready. A stealth aircraft with a few air to air missles and a big camera. He called his RSO.

"Ready with that Camera."

"I still cant belive we are doing a direct pass."

"We did these before."

"Uhh ,what ever you say."

"Take the pictures."

"Yes sir."

The pictures were taken of the Cardwaiths, high resolution digital pictures transmitted to Chastille. A total of three passes were made that day.

[Estovakiva]

The Skies over CENTRAL EASTERN NESSELBERG - the Night
""Reaper Flight - the Aftermath""

After several fly-passes over the burning inferno around the 21th Lancers base. Ivan decided that it was time to pull back as new orders had seemingly arrived through the Cromwell ll Integrated and adaptive battlespace network. He would have opened up a encrypted comms-channel to the two squadrons he had orders over. Reaper Flight and Ghoul Flight, "We are to return to the carrier New Edom to refuel and rearm as we wait for further orders from our superiors" An voice could be heard through the comms-channel "This is Ghoul three, why is the New-Edomite carrier called New Edom? Why couldn`t they have used a more cooler name?" laughing from several pilots could be heard as one comments "Perhaps because it provides less of a target then the country?"

Ivan laughed as well however he quickly returned to himself "Well that's our orders men, return to our improvised home for now, however before doing such give the New Edomites an airshow" After hearing the orders the twenty-seven pilots would have formed up in a v formation as they turned on their sirens as they flew over the 21th lancers base saluting their New Edomite allies quickly as they passed heading for the carrier called New Edom. Ivan would as well return to the carrier, however he had unfinished buisness as he opened up a new comms-channel this time to the New Edomites "This is Major Ivan Ragdov, we are pulling our air-support away from this area and we are heading back to the carrier, pardon us for starting the barbecue party in the middle of night and i hope all eyebrows and nosehairs are intact" Ivan would have performed a barrel roll as he turned around heading for the New Edom, feeling a little sweat after seeing such a inferno unleashed on human beings.

The Helicopter Carrier Draco

Colonel Natasha Petrov would have seated herself in the back of the room, during the brief with the rest of the Estovakivan-pilots, both men and women clad in their casual SURPAT-jungle uniforms which would help them to reduce chances of capture by evasion, however with red berets with the eagle of the sratocrats, in golden colors and black boots, one of Natasha`s pilots was wearing his helicopter helmet. Something she did not mind as he suited the helmet better then the beret. After serving in New Edom during some of its more viotale situations as well as other roles she was eventually sendt back to Estovakiva and has since then been given the rank of rotary aviation colonel, she now commanded the entire Estovakivan aerial-forces in the conflict.

Entrusted upon it by the Council of Generals,her ice-cold blue eyes would have somewhat fixated upon the New Edomite colonel as he was indeed rather stark naked, her eyes would have moved to his chest as she eyed his possible muscles covered with camouflage paint. Sadly for now Natasha could only watch not touch as she moved her eyes to the Rear-admiral, listening to his orders as she thought to herself Atleast there is something positive about New Edoms nudity law, a big plus rather.. As she turned her eyes to Colonel Abishai Hagar, wanting yet a look as they all rose too attention she noticed he had been at attention for some while as she could not hinder a smile upon her face and a slight blush but she quickly hided that, as Staff Sergeant Verkhov bumped into her with his arm slightly as to make her focus as the rear-admiral started walking out whispers would have slowly circulated among the Estovakivans more or less aimed at the operation and of course the New Edomite colonel and his jungle camouflaged body, several humorous remarks could be heard among her pilots in whispers.

Natasha had already decided that she should perhaps befriend more of their Edomite-allies but that could wait until they had sized the rebel held areas in Hutanjia and squashed them throughly, and of course their foregin backers as well, Natasha had already recived information regarding the deployment of the Varangian Gvardiya to support the operation with their might, something which made a chill go up her spine as she adjusted her black hair as some of it fell down infront of her left eye as she eyed the remaining New Edomites.

The port city of Valingrad (Closed City),the Stratocratic Federation of Estovakiva


The words "Company halt! present arms!" would have left the Colonel`s commanding voice as hundreds of Varangian Gvardiya`s would present their AR-9R1 Assault Rifles with silencers and other neat attachments as some of their faces could not be seen due to their black-bacheclavas only showing their cold-lifeless eyes. Wearing their now jungle patterned SURPAT uniforms that did hide their distinictive runic tattos however it did not hide the beards of some of the men. Eearing their red and black berets proudly as a large warhorn could be heard with its loud booming sound annunauncing that their commander were secounds away from starting the briefing for a new mission. By Estovakivan tradition the warhorn were used in mostly ceremonies but many military units honored their ancestors by using the horns even in the battlefield, soldiers which did such were usally more respected, a chilling brezze would sweep across the military harbor as the men and women turned their heads toward their commander, as the wind howled across the docks catching up some dust.


Engine sounds could be heard as several customized Pseudonaja Protected Mobility Vehicles arrives as officers would step out an sergeant would open the door of the leading Pseudonaja. As an woman sould steep out revealing it to be the notorious but yet respected Rear Admiral Isdoria. Isadoria brightly blue eyes would have pierced the Varangian Gvardiya soldiers infront of her as she lighted up a cigar, and inhaled the smoke slowly in her lungs and then out into the air, and the ones close her have already noticed her black eye patch covering her right eye, this was no battle injury but more or less a gift from her now buried-ex. Throwing the cigar on the ground as she put her foot on it after finishing to extinguish it, she eyed the troops again "Brothers and sisters of the Estovakivan Federation!, hear my call! we have recived orders from Jötunheimr itself. As you all may not know there are conflict in the small nation of Hutanjia ! Which is now under civil war as communists seeks to remove its goverment and establish a communist state run by a elite which would sell their nation to their foregin backers! that is why we have been tasked by the stratocratic council in Jötunheimr to safeguard our national intrests against the Communist threat!. I do know that all of you wil do your outmost best jobb in doing this to safeguard our most sinerce goals. By orders of the Generals regiment "Vkhotnik" transported by several other vessals including surface are to leave ports and head for their destignated areas which wil be issued after leaving port togheter with the rest of the mission information which wil be updated real time"


42 minutes later
The Military harbor of Valingrad we`re in full swing, as cruise missiles were being carefully loaded into a 153.8 meter long lain class Nuclear powered guided-missile Submarine, some nuclear cruise missiles were as well replaced with ordinary warhead types, for land and ship strikes. Inside the submarine sailors were testing the ships instruments checking if everything worked propperly, sailors were geting their assigned bunks and were heading to their jobbs and tasks. "Dammed" Captain Gregor Ivanov cursed loudly as he walked down one of the many hallwyas in the submarine "Cant the support crews get the submarine ready faster? We need to be on our way very soon" An young private sighed "Sir our Submarine just recently came back from a mission of course its not ready" Gregor frowned a bit however he noded in agreement as he walked to the command station follows by the private. "Well lets hope we are done before this litle civil war is over" luckely enough for Gregor the submarine would be ready in half a hour later and would be on its way to Hutanjia shortly afterwards.

In an other section of the harbor four Njord Class were geting loaded with military vehicles of all sizes and ranges such as Psudonaja mobility vehicles and even 9K317M 'Buk-M3' (9K37M3) self-propelled, medium-range surface-to-air missile systems as well as some LY471 Skyguard Anti-Aircraft/Anti-Ballistic Missile systems with Pantsirs and military trucks enough to support a regiment of the Varangian Gvardiya (3500-4000). Other ships such as the Varg Class were slowly being filled up with Amphibious Assault vehicles such as APCs and IFVs. (Total 3-6 Varg class)

Large container ships were loaded with containers carrying ammunition and supplies.

In total enough to supply the Estovakivan air-assets as well ground units for the considerable future - their escorts would consist of a few falchion nuclear powered destroyers with ASW helicopters, upon reaching Hutanjia and completing their mission some of the ships may return.

[New Edom]

Palace War Room

Prince Enoch looked at Prince Emmet with a smile. "My dear fellow, what do you think? You use better propaganda back at them. Do the Falkasians not rape and misuse the populace to their pleasure? Do they now howl at the moon as they sacrifice virgins? Of course they do! Whatever you can make work. Don't be on the defensive about this. Of course they are using propaganda--it's a fine art, they want to win, and they are good at it. Hit back harder. After all, a good commander uses information to good effect--that's Sun Tzu, my dear Prince Emmet. Don't let this get you down. You ought to go get a good meal, or a nice hot woman or something, find a way to relax a bit. God's pity upon our enemies, they don't know what's about to hit them." Prince Enoch was off to get some R&R before he deployed at last.

[Neu Engollon]

PALACE WAR ROOM

Lt. Colonel Galien had wandered back from the assignment board before heading over to the Uli comms specialist to make his arrangements.
He listened and nodded at the sage advice of Prince Enoch.

"I concur with Prince Enoch, your highness. I don't think there's too much more to add. It's all games, ploys, propaganda. Those that would believe it, you wouldn't want or need on your side anyway. The Uli-Schwyz Regiments have been called greedy, baby-killing pirates before, but we don't let it get to us. It's all part of the game. We have a saying in Frandit, 'Iz quer aud merd, certain izzu merd-schiesse.' Basically, If it sounds like shit, it probably is heavy shit." He smiled.

"Now is the big chance to hit them back. Get revenge. Use the nastiness the Falkies have churned up and channel it into fuel for your troops' rage. Unleash them on the beaches with all that revenge seeking venom. If it psychs up your troops, so be it. If not, you better find some motivation for them quick. It's go time, your eminence! Don't be left behind."

[Falkasia]

Chastille Sewers

"Well... its our best shot.." Dimitri said. "Better than standing knee-deep is shit."

Vassili nodded. Both of them shrank back as they heard voices in the tunnel way.

"Button up guys... this may be tight," he whispered.

In his off hand, he drew up the Remington shotgun and careful loaded several rounds of buckshot into it. He did not, prime to chamber. It would make too much noise, not to mention immediately alert everyone in the tunnel to their presence.

By the time he had turned around, Dimitri had his Uzi out as well. It clicked slightly as a fresh clip was loaded, muffled out by the louder sound of running water all around them. The two nodded, redirecting themselves towards their Hutanjian allies. Their entire posture had changed, fully anticipating a firefight.

"Best we get moving..." Dimitri started as he began slushing forward, cautiously keeping his gun raised above the waterline.

If they were to succeed, it'd take a great deal of luck.

======

Norritts AFB

"Ok.... Everyone up!"

A light flipped on, followed by several more as the prisoner barracks came to life. Dozens of prisoners lined the walls on the inside, loosely packed together on the polished wooden floor.

"But its still dark outside," one of the prisoners mumbled in broken Russian.

"Don't matter... get up! Everyone!"

Several guards entered from both sides of the long room, cradling rifles in the crooks of their arms. They made haste to the prisoners, taking forceful, authoritative strides to close the gap.

"I said get up!" one of the guards screamed, prodding a drowsy soldier with the stock of his rifle. He was not gentle, but the jabs were not designed to cause pain.

"Owww... ok, ok... I'm moving."

Similar remarks echoed up and down the barracks as the rabble was roused, forced into line by their guards and shuttled outside onto the parade ground. Trucks were waiting, turned inward so their headlights illuminated the green.

"Don't even think about," a guard screamed at a prisoner trying to make a run for it "You'll be fine soon enough... trust us."

One by one, the trucks pulled forward into the spotlight. Prisoners were carefully loaded up and shackled to the benches, prodded every so often by rifle stocks to keep them compliant. The guards slowly disappeared too, joining the prisoners inside the trucks.

As they pulled out from their staging ground and onto the airport tarmac, four more trucks pulled up behind them and motored along in a convoy headed towards the beach.

One of the guards checked his watch.

"Still a long ways off," he mumbled, "Only two thirty-three."

There was a ruckus in one of the trucks as a prisoner again tried to break free, preventing from doing so by a vigilant guard and of course, the chain. Still, it resulted in a painful bash to the shoulder and a smattering of curses from the watchman.

In the distance, a hovercraft slowly came into view. It was idle on the beach, the fans at back spinning up in preparation for departure. Large floodlights made the tan sand and grey craft glow in the dark, casting awkward oblong shadows in every direction. A tanker truck was moored in the sand, slowly completing the refueling process as the ground crew detached a long red tube protruding from the aft.

The convoy pulled in, their headlights carving a path between beach grass and driftwood as they spat sand from underneath the rear wheels. They parked, forming a semi-circle as the prisoners were offloaded in the same manner.

"Everybody out," the guards screamed.

This time, everyone was all too eager to oblige. As they disembarked, the prisoners formed up once again in front of the truck lights. After roll was taken, they were loaded into the waiting mouth of the hovercraft and once more shackled to their seats. The guards filed in after all, although this time having multipled threefold and accompanied en force by several 8th Airborne elements. Each took their seat at the ends of each prisoner row, locking their weapons away in then stowcases beneath their feet.

The ship's manifest was passed up the chain, arriving at the Captain after only a few minutes of hand-offs. He was all too eager to be off. Grasping the intercom, he placed it to his lips.

"Good evening gentlemen... this is your Captain speaking. Welcome onboard Falkasian Navy Airlines, with nonstop service to Kenega! We are far from honored to have your sorry asses onboard, and I sincerely hope to get your stinking asses off my boat as fast as possible. Be mindful of your surroundings and the nearest emergency exits, of which in the event of an emergency, will most likely become the last thing you ever see. Our cabin crew will be happy to assist you with any inflight discomfort, so long as you give us a good reason too. So, with that, please sit back and relax... it'll be a rough ride."

He hung up the intercom, placing it carefully into the pristine metal latch adjacent to the converter box. His crew made ready.

"Send us out," he said as the engines hummed to life.

At the same instant, the entire beach went black as the floodlights were killed. The trucks, alongside the ground crew, disappeared entirely as the front loading ramp jolted to life and began to raise. Backing up slowly, the Captain violently flung the LCAC 180 degrees before punching it into open water.

======

Over Western Nesselberg

In immediate danger were Romeo Six and Romeo Two. Their integrated VICE feeds had warned them of approaching tangos, so when two Uli Gripens had appeared over their shoulders, they were not the least bit shocked. A lack of shock however, did not automatically guarantee survival. They would have to think fast. Three on two, with two behind, was not a good combination.

Romeo Two, veered wide in a perpendicular slant, dodging the missiles narrowly as flares shot out from behind in an unorthodox attempt to blind the pursuing Gripens.

The Uli Gripen banked off, pulling some serious G's to avoid its pursuer. Romeo Six followed, barrelrolling hard and down as the pilot shot off flares to distract the two missiles. One flew wide over him, unable to compensate for the aggressive maneuvering. The other slammed into a flare, exploding into tiny fragments and leaving a debris cloud in the air.

The pilot of Romeo Six was careful in how he set up his attack run. Given the circumstances, below and inside the turn radius of the Gripen, he was presented with some atypical opportunities. He could continue on, closing the gap before firing off several AMRAAM missiles. Coupled with his cannon, even if his missiles missed, he'd still be able to score some serious damage to the rear surfaces of the Gripen. Should he pull up, he could pelt the underbelly of the fighter with more missiles or cannon. Peforming a reverse roll would see him returning back to a standard pursuit position to the rear leading edge.

He contemplated for a split second, deciding to jerk left and come at the Gripen from underneath. It was the most likely to succeed, given the fact that the aircraft would have to dodge into the missiles regardless of which way it went. He yanked the stick back for less than moment, locking target and pulling the red trigger on his controller. Two missiles fired off as he sent a three-second cannon burst lead several yards in front of the Gripen.

Romeo Two, meanwhile, tried desperately to shake the pursuing Gripens. He jinked and rolled, knowing that his comrades would soon be on top of him to help out. VICE began to scream as the first two Gripens began lining up, again, with him. He spun his head left and right, catching glimpses of their turning shapes. Circumstances like this called for dramatic measures. A warning tone came over his headset as they locked missiles. Mumbling a prayer, he jerked hard up on the stick and brough his aircraft almost perpendicular to the ground. In the same instant, he slammed the airbrake and vented speed, jabbing the stick forward to complete the maneuver. He was hit with severe vertigo halfway through, nearly blacking out.

The Shadowhawk lurched up and rolled down in a loop, recovering just as the Gripens shot forward. As the aircraft stablizied, the pilot attempted to fire off two more missiles despite the stars he was still seeing. The AMRAAMs feel away, shooting forward well past the nose as they streaked towards the Gripens. Another tone reverberated in his pounding head, VICE alerting him to two new friendlies Romeo One and Romeo Nine as they leveled out to his six.

Meanwhile, several MiGs believed it prudent to attempt a long-range confrontation with the Falkasian Shadowhawks. Their funeral, thought Chenko as he appraised Romeo Five, Romeo Seven, Romeo Eight, and Romeo Twelve of the situation. They had been ordered to hang back and engage any stragglers, but now they'd be doing some fighting of their own. The flight of MiGs grew as they closed the gap, joined by VICE screaming of missile launches. The Falkasian flight of four broke into a squid-tentacle pattern, seemingly shooting off in every direction with the goal of fish hooking around and catching the opposing MiGs celebrating their supposed victory. Most of the missiles went wide, streaking through the sky as incandescent white lines before disappearing over the horizon. Others hit flares, striking them head-on and detonating in tiny puffs of smoke.

However, two missiles found their mark. The pilot of Romeo Five was caught sleeping. His anticipation was off, rolling away too late as both missiles struck his wings. The resulting explosion sheered both sides clean off, leaving him with only a cockpit and tail. With little support, the fuselage began to plummet and roll. Knowing saving his aircraft was a lost cause, it was all Romeo Five could do to pull the flourescent red handle between his legs. Grasping it and yanking up, the handle fell away as the canopy shattered, propelling him and his seat out into the open air. It too lost speed, beginning to fall as the air started rushing past the pilot's face. He decided then and their to delay the opening of his parachute until he was closer to the ground, so as to avoid being cut down by the Hutanjian jets. He knew of their savage nature, and did not want to over-estimate their honor.

Meanwhile, the remaining three "stand-off" Shadowhawks curved around behind the Hutanjian MiGs, registering locks from VICE as they unleashed a plethora of long-range and medium-range missiles.

======

On the Ground

With the air battle overhead and some limited ground support being provided by Zvezda Flight, the reteat back across the channel was full-speed ahead. The hovercraft was riddled with bullet holes, but far from the worst damage its crew had ever seen. The CIWS cannon continued to fire, completely disregarding the front now and focusing entirely on protecting the craft from RPGs. It was doing a very effective job, due in no small part to the proximity both shared with the beach. Parts of its barrel had melted, but did little to prevent the computer system from keeping up with the job.

Engineers began to rig the rear defenses to explode. There would be nothing left for the Hutanjians to use, which had been the idea all along. The Raiders hadn't been deployed to hold the beach indefiniately, just long enough to allow the remaining rebels to retreat. That job was done, and there was no point left in staying put.

The casualties were loaded on first, either carried slung around shoulders or dragged onto deck. The survivors began to straggle on as well, turning the LCAC's welldeck into a makeshift fighting position as they loaded up barrels and crates and strung them together for cover. Fire was sustained enough from this one spot to effective silence any fire coming from the third line. They were suppressing, emptying seemingly endless clips into the smoke and up the beach. Several Hutanjians dissolved out from the abyss, quickly pockmarked from head to toe with fire as their lifeless bodies planted themselves in the soft sand. A volley of cooked grenades were sent from the deck, flying into the dust like baseballs and thickening the cloud even more.

Kuznetsov himself maintained his fighting position behind a large rock outcropping. Accompanied by several others, they were the farthest up from the hovercraft. Over his radio, squad leaders began radioing in to confirm they had made it. It was quick, but Kuznetsov did not order the retreat for himself until every one of his guys made it onboard.

Stray rounds slammed into the rocks on all sides, ricocheting and striking one of the soldiers through the chest. He dropped, quite simply, as blood gushed from his mouth. Kuznetsov did not acknowledge, simply flailing his hand telling the squad to fall back. They took no time to wait, cradling their assault rifles in their armpits as they took off. An engineer threw the Major a bundle of explosives, who in turn chucked it at the CIWS cannon. The computer system was rigged to reformat when it lost connection to the turret, but otherwise was left behind to provide additional cover.

He turned behind him, leaning up against the rock as more rounds flew overhead. His squad was just now climbing the ramp of the LCAC. Perfect, he thought.

He scrambled for the body of his comrade, hefting it up around his shoulders before grasping the rifle with his free hand. He'd have to akimbo it, but at this point, it didn't matter. He tore off down the beach, the rocky outcropping exploding seconds later from a sustained grenade volley. His boots sank into the damp sand as he charged, firing off errant rounds amid the torrential downpour of lead from the hovercraft.

======

Norritts AC

"So... you're telling me that we've got Mcnernian subs probing the edges of the island chain?' Vadim asked?

"Yes sir... we've got readings of possibly four separate submarines... but given the data, that number could be as high as eight."

"I see... what else can you get from our active sonar buoys?"

"Not much sir. Cavitation is kept at a minimal, and they're hard-pressed to surface. I can tell you though, that whomever captains these ships is more or less an imbecile."

"Yea." Vadim agreed with a nod. "Who would ever trounce into a harbor expecting not to be detected?"

"Beats me sir..."

"Me too Corporal... We've gotta figure out where to go from here. Go ahead and scramble some helicopters... we'll see if we can't catch one of these retards probing our defenses again."

"Yes sir."

Vadim fired off a quick salute as he left the Area Control Center, a large barracks converted for the purpose of processing information and evaluating data. From the outside, it was unremarkable save for the constant guards stationed out front and the equally constant coming-and-going of support staff and personnel on the inside. The barracks itself was mostly wood, built ideally for the sub-tropic grassland environment of the Cardwiths. Its large windows, albiet covered over with lightblocks, would have offered a superior view of the surrounding base and terrain.

For the time being, the ACC was the centralized hub for coordinating the defense of East Cardwith Island. It possessed a VICE feed, and integrated with the various display monitors and human analyists inside, provided up-to-the-minute battlespace information for commanders both at base and out in the field.

As Vadim descended the pre-cast concrete steps leading up to the doorway, he was passed by a flurry of couriers bound for the ACC. New intel came in every minute, he knew, and sometimes it was so important it had to be delivered in person.

He reached the last step, planting a thick boot firmly into the loose grass as he strolled out across a small grassy field towards his staff car. The small Toyota truck had been discovered derelict in one of the hangars, and given then scarcity of vehicles on premise, had been commandeered to ferry around officers and other important personnel. He made good time towards it, stopping by the passenger door as his driver approached to open it.

"Base Commander requested at ACC. Base Commander requested at ACC."

It was not to be. Vadim turned, hearing his title broadcast across the airfield. Mentally, he processed and eliminated the reasons why they would need him back so soon.

"Base Commander requested at ACC...Immediately. Base Commander requested at ACC... Immediately"


It didn't matter. He sighed and waved off his driver, turning on his heel and retracing the muddy footprints as he walked back towards the building. The guards outside straightened and saluted as he approached, climbing the concrete stairs and leaving soiled prints as reminders of his presence. He stood for a moment at the top of the stairs, deciding whether to knock or not. The door opened on its own from the inside, and he proceeded in.

No sooner was he through the door than aides swarmed him. He had to physically fight them off.

"Stop!" he screamed, placing both hands outstretched to his side. "Five feet people! Five. Fucking. Feet."

The ruckus ceased immediately, but not before one of the analyists stepped forward. He handed Vadim a dossier, the crease bulging with internal contents. He opened it cautiously, trying not to let the insides spill out.

The first satellite picture said everything.

"Sir, it seems the enemy is prepping for an assault."

[Falkasia]

EKTV Studio
Ekaterine, Falkasia

"Good evening. I am Svetlana Michevsky, bringing the news to you right as it happens."

The newscast started by displaying a plethora of pictures across the screen. In the background, solemn music played to emphasize the mood.

"Revolt in Mcnernia! In a report we brought you earlier this week, rebellious tensions have exploded in Mcnernia. Freedom Fighters, mostly comprised of the nation's youth, have taken up arms against their tyrannical government. In a move not entirely unexpected, King Emillion IV declared martial law; resulting in the arrest of thousands of protestors and human rights violations on a massive scale..."

The news feed faded out into a sound bite, captured from a home video camera and shot by a Mcnernian revolutionary. It was obvious the individual was hidden, as the feed kept bobbing up and down and the sound of scrapping metal could be heard as the camera moved. In the foreground was a city street, flanked on both sides by sidewalk and planted trees. The scene was somewhat concealed in dust, although darkened figures could be made out from behind the smokescreen. There was shouting, and bright fires burned inside trash cans and from store windows. A nearby van was overturned, with two human shapes slumped in contorted positions nearby. Two figures threw molotovs, but quickly disappeared off camera as a creaking tank rolled through the street. It stopped, right in the middle of the camera and fired off a smattering of machine gun rounds. The cameraman flinched, jolting the camera. The tank began to creak again, moving on as the camera regained its composure. Soldiers followed up, firing burst at corpses to make sure they were dead. Screaming overpowered all other sounds as the tank fired, shaking the camera and causing dust to fly off the buildings.

"As you can see, it is complete chaos in Mcnernia. An anonymous source inside the government stated that, "the King has gone mad! He kills our citizens in the streets, and cares little anymore for his country!" Conversely, reports released form the Falkasian Government suggest that plans may be in order to deploy peacekeeping troops to Mcnernia to help queel the violence, and bring the King and his staff to justice...

In other news, freelance photojournalists have caught pictures of the Mcnernian King's wife out on the town with a plethora of men. Found strolling the sidewalks of Griffindom's red light district late into the night, paparazzi reportedly caught her having intimate interactions with a variety of eligible bachelors.."

The screen changed, showing pictures of an evident drunken Queen held up by two young, vivacious men. Others showed her making out behind light posts or making suggestive poses in dark corners of the street.

"Not very becoming of a Queen who's husband is currently wanted for international war crimes..."

[McNernia]

Chastille
War Room

Emett nodded, "I can see your point, there was one attempt by the MBS, that failed. We tried to portray them as slavers. I can report his Imperial and Royal Majesties forces are in good morale. Vengengance for the fallen, that is what drives us now." he smiled thinking. He was lost in a bit of thought. His Air Force liasion came up.

"Sir, most recent AR-95 overflight of the Cardwaiths."

"Give it here Captian." The man handed over a tablet. Emett looked it over. "Gentlemen, the Falseans have a lot of tanks on the North Island." He pored over it. "We should attempt to divide the UFF natives from their masters. Sow mistrust."


Mcnernian Submarines


The captians of the six submarines that had been probing the harbors of the Cardwaith islands knew what was prudent, they had the SBS teams on board. Along with Rangers who were tasked to get ashore at the soonest possible time. But until then they had to stay the hell alive. The submarines departed from the harbors. The subs dove deep into the sea and waited for evening. The Primus was nearly hit by the odd Falkasian charge. They were tired of waiting a message was sent to Chastille.

From: Captian Mcnernian Royal Submarine Primus
To: Chastille HQ CINC RAC

Advise when to insert Special Boat Service and Ranger teams. Falkasian Navy has picked us up. En route to the insertion area will remain on station.


Griffindon

The King knew his wife was more faithful. He looked over the various Falkasian propagonda jabs. He knew the Falkasians were being led by a drunken fool.

This quote was released:

"It takes a tyrant to know a tyrant."

[Hutanjia]

Code: Select all

To:  Captain Ivanov, Premier Vladimir Kazyenko
From: Royal Allied Command

We have our group enroute to the meeting. Reminder that the radio code recognition will be: Orangutan.  We will make the prearranged time. Unfortunately, we will only have 11 officers and 2 Senior NCOs to trade, including Voroshnev. Maybe we can still work something out? They will see you soon.

The Royal Allied Command


PALACE WAR ROOM

General Hespatu had settled from his encounter with Atave. He had taken some introspection and resolve, only to turn a couple minutes later to have to wonder at Prince Emmet's own resolve and that of the whole McNernian contingent. They were having major troubles at home. The Falkasian doctored and computer-fabricated propaganda was turning the screws that much further, not just effecting the common McNernian, but even the higher echelons of power.

Understandably, it was having an effect on the McNernian military that were enforcing policy that had caused their political troubles in the first place. The timing was absolutely horrible now, for them to question everything when victory was within the Royal Allies grasp. They needed to keep a closer watch than ever on the McNernians. First the Carrier incident, and then what next? So far, they seemed to be following through with the plan.

He stayed silent during the Prince's words and General Unwerth's call to immediate action. He had no more time for words either, he had to commit to action, get his top officers in line with their actions and get the ball rolling for the Royal Hutanjian Military to get the rest of Hutanjia back into the fold.

He got over to one of the comm officers, a young RHA female lieutenant. She glanced up at him with a strange look he didn't place right away. So, was this another one of Atave's moles? He had to work harder at tuning out that paranoia. He directed her to bring up some reports. Then he leaned over her and furiously typed out a couple messages. Then he grabbed the phone next to her to Jotaku.

EAST OF VESSELLE

Several units had been moved from Nevorn to northern Nesselberg, a couple would stay to reinforce the island, the rest would be moving on.

One of those Army Regiments and the 8th Royal Marines stood before King Popilu on a parade field. They weren't dressed in parade uniforms, but suited up in their webbing, gear and with their AKM rifles at their sides. Some had RPGs and PK machine guns propped on the grass in front of them. They were ready to march into battle. He walked the line of the Marines first, with Colonel Fotona following. Vobatu and some other RHA officers and aids stood nearby. A flight of Mi-24s circled in the distance, as well as flights of MIGs that would be heading west soon, but they ran security patrols now to protect their King.

The bombers would be lifting off soon from Vesselle to pound their targets, later, the fleets would leave their berths from both Nevorn and Vesselle. Air transports would follow, escorted by every allied Royal plane they could spare from the defenses and other missions being flown.

The King's mood had been dark, with the Cardwithian declaration, the media ridiculousness and reports of mass attacks across Nesselberg, but now he felt it lifting.

Now was the time that they would regain the upper hand over Nellis and his henchmen. His helicopter had flown over numerous preparations happening across the two islands, before finally settling down for one last review. It spirited the troops, so he would oblige, despite the risk of being on this wartorn island. The troops needed to see their monarch was fearless.

WESTERN NESSELBERG

The men of the 21st were given orders to hold positions and not advance further. The casualties had mounted to little avail, the Falkasians had gotten away practically unscathed it seemed and most of them were pulling out. A platoon from the 23rd Engineers was on their way to help probe for traps and IEDs. The fighting had been fierce and rapid, starting with a simple ambush. They took a few potshots at the retreating UFF rebels and Falkasian Marines and waited, watching the skies.

OVER THE BATTLEFIELD
WESTERN NESSELBERG

The combined counterattack of the Falkasian Warhawks and the Cardwithian MIGs broke up the RHAF MIGs, sending them off and low. One of them wobbled, trying to maintain air after having an aeloron shredded by one of its Cardwithian adversaries.

While they saw one of the enemy Warhawks break up under the onslaught of their allies in the Gripens, the rest came at them firing a close volley of missiles. Another MIG broke apart from a detonation that punched holes across its body and folded its right wing in. The RHAF pilot had no chance to bail out as flames overtook his cockpit, barreling towards the ground sans the back half of the fighter. The remaining MIGs banked and headed North, hoping to get in safe range of the Royal SAM defenses just a few klicks away.

MONGOOSE DEN

Milton Atave sat and stewed. He filled out his papers and reports. His time would come soon. In the meantime, he had some 'unfortunate accidents' to arrange for Hespatu and his allies in the future. Chastille would be his for the taking, but he would wait. He was still a patriotic Hutanjian and did want to see the attack succeed, taking out one group of enemies to leave him to deal with just the other group that jeopardized the Kingdom. His Kingdom.
He suddenly felt the need to visit the sublevels and the carcass of Nellis' nephew they'd kept. He would wear his special kicking pair of cleats.

[New Isotopia]

Dernierville

Since the 3rd Revolutionary Brigades arrival in Dernierville, the men dispatched there fortified the beaches and other approaches. Tank barriers, barbed wire, and land mines were set up on the main approaches with other approaches purposely left with smaller amounts of obstacles in order to funnel the enemy into kill zones. Similar strategies were being employed at other outposts on the island. Manning the defenses were revolutionaries, some veterans of the Bulgislavian conflict and others of the civil war years before.

Also at the outposts were SAM's and AAA guns from the 19th Independent Anti Aircraft Regiment (The Naval Infantry had one integrated to the division) who arrived with the transport craft. In addition the AA forces were elements of 8th Tactical Missile Brigade, who brought some anti ship and tactical ballistic missiles to the fight, with the rest of the regiment expected to arrive in a few days via air.

The Barracks of the 3rd Brigade was a old warehouse complex that had been taken over a few days earlier. Men slept in cots or in sleeping bags. Occasionally a New Isotopian flag or Soviet Style Propaganda posters were seen in the barracks, a sign of the Revolutionaries (a all volunteer force) dedication to New Isotopia, Socialism, and Democracy. The men there were there based on a variety of reasons. Some were there to spread Socialism and Democracy, others because they were tight on cash (a cash reward was offered to those who joined), and some were just bored of home and were looking for some fun and a adventure.

Despite it being later in the night, the barracks was still quite active with activity. Radios still bared rap and other music, men played cards, talked, read, and wrote home, describing their time on the Cardwiths. They were kept on a constant state of alert, always being told to be ready for Monarchy and their forces. Ready to defend the natives from the invaders.

[The UFF of Hutanjia]

SEWERS UNDER SOUTHEASTERN CHASTILLE

"Well... its our best shot.." Dimitri said. "Better than standing knee-deep is shit."

The FSIS men noticed the activity back the way they came at the same time as the PAST agents.

"Button up guys... this may be tight," Dimitri whispered.

Miles and the two other PAST warriors only nodded. Their path seemed clear. The flashlight orbs seemed to bob closer and get bigger on the wall near them. They followed the lead of the FSIS agents and also lightly cocked their Uzis and Benellis.

"Best we get moving..." Dimitri started as he began slushing forward, cautiously keeping his gun raised above the waterline.

The PAST crew followed, Miles and Gordon dropped back a bit and walked, more likely waded and sloshed, backwards, their weapons covering the back of the pack and ready for the KHS pursuers. They took turns catching up forward to the rest of the group as the other man covered the back of the tunnel. At some point, they would have to stop to take out this lead KHS hunter pack before they reached their rendezvous.

EASTERN AND CENTRAL NESSELBERG

Before the Edomite Lancers started to be reinforced and replaced by their Airborne trooper comrades, the last of the UFF rebel attack was cut down.
The four remaining UFF rebels from the last banzai charge into the Edomite lines threw down their machetes and AK47s. They raised their hands in surrender. It was not a total failure of an attack. They'd accomplished the prime mission of bloodying the Royalist allies.

At the Uli base, the attack also petered out, but the Zeta Company soldiers let the rebels pull back into the bush. They would be hunted down by the Vipers and Agustas if they stayed in larger clumps. Retreating stragglers were brought down with rifle bursts. The attack on the Zeta Company base was for all intensive purposes finished.

WESTERN NESSELBERG

Captain Riordian of the Echo Force, Foxtrot company, 1st Isotopian Regiment introduced himself then said,
"So we've been hearing explosions and gunfire over night on our way over here, whats the situation?"

"The Falkasian Marine Raiders are pulling out with some of our men. We have about a company of UFF men staying in place to fight a rearguard action and cover their seaborne evac. It escalated pretty quickly. They brought in attack choppers and fighter/bombers which were matched by our side. Hence you can see..."
The UFF Lieutenant Jeremiah Jorgazu pointed back to the vapor trails and black smoke clouds all over the sky. Planes still rolled and dove to the north. It was hard to make out which sides' fighters they were from here.

"It seems to be winding down now, just by the sounds and our radio reports. The ground fighting, anyway. We aren't heading back that direction. The RHA may still try to break through and we have a more important mission.
Our destination is actually a bit more to the Southeast of here, where we will link up with an FSIS adviser named Yuri. Shall we head out?"

[Neu Engollon]

OVER WESTERN NESSELBERG

Aqua Flight, the Uli Warhawks arrived as Maroon Flight was dodging the Falkasian Shadowhawks. They zoomed over the RHAF MIGs that were heading at them and beyond them, tails between their legs, for the northern defense zone.
They came to the rescue of their Uli comrades in the Gripens. One Gripen was hit by a missile, the plane stayed intact, but its controls obviously went dead. Major circuits and controls must've been hit. The pilot was able to bail out. His seat rocketed away, finally a white chute deployed as it began it's drop to the jungle floor below.
The other Gripens jinked and zagged. They let loose chaff and flares, diving and finally levelling out as the remaining Falkasian arrows streaked wide or detonated in the countermeasure clouds.
They circled to come around and get revenge, reinforced by Aqua Flight. The Warhawks toggled their first volley of air to air missiles at the preoccupied Shadowhawks.

ZETA COMPANY FOB
CENTRAL NESSELBERG

The gaps in the base concertina wire fencing were closed up by APCs until repairs could be made to the wire, trenches and bunkers. The first aid station was packed with casualties, some of them severe. Rebuilding would have to wait until they licked their wounds. Their reinforcements arrived from Vesselle after a couple hours. The choppers, medics on board, took the casualties out with them. Two more Moliors were needed and called for, to also get the Uli bodies. The fallen mercenaries' bodies would be transported to Trakanu, Nevorn to be processed; and from there they would be shipped to the Uli-Schwyz base in the Mediterranean.
Three platoons from Tau Company had been pulled from the reserve force. They took up positions in the front line bunkers. Zeta Company would have to stay put while they sorted it all out. Zeta would have to stay strong and strack.

IN THE CHANNEL
EAST OF NORTH CARDWITH ISLAND
JUST NORTH OF EAST CARDWITH COASTLINE

The three Hutanjian Navy subs had gotten as far as they could within range of the target without being detected by the coastal sonar, there were Falsean and Falkasian craft near and constant air cover. Intel had given them this window, not guaranteed, but the best they would get tonight.

The Uli commandos of the 6th Platoon, Lambda Company climbed into their zodiacs from the surfaced subs. They wore all black and the sea camouflaged zodiacs they would ride in blended in with the water. They were so well camo'd that a couple troopers almost missed their steps into the rafts. The anxious RHN crew helped them load up. They wanted to get the Uli commandos off the boats and away so they could submerge soon before they became targets for enemy ASW aircraft and patrol boats. Some RHN FACs were just a couple minutes behind in case there was trouble from the sea. They would hopefully give the subs time to submerge if they had to hold off larger ships.

The journey would be a little longer than was advisable with zodiacs to the beach head, but the alternative was certain detection of the subs, then by default the zodiacs, by the enemy. They spread out to cut down on a radar signature. They used specially silenced motors on the craft, developed in the United States for use by their special forces in just such a situation. The RHN subs buttoned up and started to slip under the water as soon as the commando rafts were clear of the undertow. Every other raft carried troopers with AA launchers at the ready.

One of the first forces of the Royalist invasion was on its way to the Cardwithian beaches. Landfall would be north of Montvieux, preparing the way ahead of the main forces.

[Hutanjia]

SOUTHERN NESSELBERG

At a small fishing village turned makeshift port, 4th Brigade of the 3rd Royal Hutanjian Army Rangers Regiment loaded up into their LCACs for their journey across the channel. They were cautious and at the ready. There were still UFF guerrilla bands active not too far to the north. RHN Small attack craft and missile boats waited further out to escort them to their destination. They would be joined soon from the RHN's Cruiser and Corvette and more small attack boats, the Royal allied naval support for the southern sector of operations. RHAF Hind attack helicopters and Sienna flight, Harriers, of the Uli air wing gave air cover.

The Hutanjian Rangers set out from the docks, they would make a bit of a path southwest before cutting back in northwest, to avoid Falkasian and Isotopian coastal and naval defenses. Mini subs arrived to join the fleet and give a picket defense of the RHN Flagship.

SOUTHERN COAST OF WEST CARDWITH ISLAND

Hours later on that evening, the Hutanjian Rangers approached the coast, on a small beach between Dernierville and Nourselle. Latest data said their LZ might be hot, but the operation was set and they were going in regardless. They came in sight of the beach as the RHAF choppers and Uli fighters hovered out to sea, ready to cover at signs of resistance, but also covering the small RHN fleet.

[McNernia]

NEAR DEINERVILLE
SBS Foxtrot Squadron
Late at night

The Mcnernian submarines had evaded Falkasian defences. The fleet was close by, now was the time for the Special Forces to go into action and land on the island. In the submarines the men checked weapons. AR9 rifles were checked over onece, twice and maybe three times even. There was explosives and other such things. Rocket launchers and other weapons of malice. The New Isotoptians would not know what them. The submarines had often run with their scopes up looking around. Captian Laurnece aboard the Primus was the senior officer.

"Put me through to the other ships."

"Yes sir" The technician put him through to the six other submarines. The captian spoke. "Gents mission is a go, commence landings."

"sir?"

"Commence landings."

The technician sent the message down to the Special Forces men on board. They grimily began to prepare a few said their prayers for soildiers were faithful men. The commandos packed away their gear and donned body armor and helmets. They emerged through the hatches, the subs would be under way under a moonlit night. The dighnies were black rubber craft. The men readied their gear. The night was warm, more than one submarine captian was worried.

Up on deck the SBS troopers loaded into the digheys packs in the middle. They road about 10 to a raft in a total of perhaps 30 men. The submarines buttoned up and dove as soon as the rafts were away.

The squadron was tense as they rowed slowly into the shore. It was too damn quiet. A man in one boat had a sniper rifle, he looked at the beach through his scope.

"Really empty."

"ok, lets go."

"I bloody dont like it."

"Take what we have man>

The boats headed ashore every wary of the unknown ashore. They were 10 kilometers from Deinerville. But it was common to have long range recce patrols out in the jungle. The SBS wore dark toned camoulflage that could be modified with foliage. The commandos moved quickly off the beach. Rifles at the ready, 10 man groups spread out the men moved in slowly and quietly.

[Falkasia]

Sewers

In the halflight, the team moved forward. It was rough going, aided in no small part to the rank nature of the cavern or the lack of light. Dimitri knew in the back of his mind that it'd be close, but secretly also resigned himself to the fact that in order to proceed, they'd have to engage in an open firefight deep below the streets of Chastille.

It had been several hours since they first took the plunge into the subterranean pathway.

"Three," he whispered, checking his watch with the flashlight hung closely overhead. "Its night time outside..."

Dimitri and the PAST operatives nodded, although whatever time of day it was didn't make much of a difference. Their movements had degraded into a Saturday morning cartoon, moving jaggedly each way to avoid masses of sewage and prevent gagging on the salt stalagtites that had formed on the concrete ceilings.

"It truly is a whole different world down here," Dimitri mumbled, shining Vassili's flashlight on a gigantic blue-and-orange frog glued to the tunnel wall.

Its two independent eyes glanced back, bugging slightly as it began to crawl back into the safety of darkness.

"What the fuck was that?" Vassili yelped, feeling something moving past his legs.

He could barely make out a long object in the water, weaving in and out of the floating cans.

Miles placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Just a sea snake," he said. "It won't hurt you if you ignore it."

Gordon meanwhile, was busy scouting ahead. He came sloshing back, appearing instantaneously from within the abyss. In the light, his face beamed with excitement.

"We're near the coast! I think I saw the glo-stick up just ahead..."

He was interrupted by a loud ping, seeing a small black sphere deflect off the wall and explode into a thousand bright lights.

"FLASHBANG!!!" someone screamed as all hell broke loose.

======

Chenko smiled underneath his flight helmet, enjoying the scattering Gripens before him. His men knew how to handle themselves, despite the fact that Romeo Five had ditched in the ocean. It was his own fault, Valery thought. He should have known better than to let his attention stray.

His other wingmates began to radio in, marking their missiles and confirming kills as things began to pick up. The Gripen in front of him had suffered some heavy damage, resulting in a suicide trajectory. He coudl see the canopy fly off and a flightchair catapult into the sky several dozen feet above the horizon of combat. He said a slight pray under his breath for the Uli, satisfied when the chute opened and the chair feel away. Falling to death was a terrible way to go, especially after having fought valiantly. Chenko had that much respect for his fellow airman, regardless of what side they were on.

He jinked left, breaking the flight line as his wingmen continued forward. He aimed for the pilot, marking his position on VICE as the Shadownhawk went lateral and narrowly missed his canopy. It'd give the man quite a scare, but would let him know the descent would be safe from repurcussion. Chenko only hoped his nobility would carry over to his own man.

"FUCK!' screamed Romeo Two, "We've got more bogeys on our six!"

"Missile Lock," screamed VICE in a monotone voice. "Missile Lock."

Romeo Two dove rapidly, hoping that the missiles coming at him possessed a common failsafe to prevent air-to-ground detonations. Some missiles, especially more modern American varieties, would stop working at certain speeds or acceleration and resume operation once proper flight characteristics were achieved. This was designed in case short-range missiles went wide, rendering them inoperable so that they would not detonate upon impacting the ground. It was a long shot, but Romeo Two would take it as his first way out.

"Why don't these guys fucking leave me alone?!"

The remenants of the Shadowhawk flight separated as well, scattering in seemingly random directions but with the same goal as their long-range comrades in mind. A fishhook maneuver would place them behind the opposing forces, allowing them to fire off their remaining missiles. With practiced ease, the six Shadowhawks divided and rolled, carefully tuning their airspeed and yaw to place them in opportune attack positions.

Romeo Eleven misgauged however, destabilizing his aircraft and causing it to stall. Missiles were still flying everywhere, and the clouds of dust from explosions and flares made it hard to see. He could feel the plane dropping in his gut, although his altimeter had somehow failed. Hands flew across the dash as he attempted to fix the situation, only realizing the nature of his problem as he glanced behind his shoulder. As if the plane itself was urinating, a large stream of yellow-brown liquid came squirting out from beneath the aircraft. He hadn't stalled after all.

"FUCK," he screamed. "I'm hit, I'm hit. Romeo Eleven aborting!"

VICE chimed in, kindly providing navigation directions to the nearest airfield.

"Yea VICE? Yea... thanks... thanks... oh... and FUCK YOU," he screamed into his voice reciever, unbelievably frustrated by the glorified OnStar system that VICE was.

His predicament was not one he could recover from. His instruments were shot, and his engine had flamed out... and given the nature of his gas leak, there wasn't a way he could restart it up here without superpowers. Only option was to eject.

He reached down, yanking the red handle between his legs. The lever came off, igniting the shaped charge on the canopy and shattering it in an instant. He waited as seconds passed, but his seat did not lift off. He glanced down, noticing the shrapnel that had penetrated the side of his airframe. The launch mechanism was shredded, and unfortunately, so too was a good deal of his leg. He hadn't felt it, too concerned with righting the aircraft.

It didn't matter now though...

The remaining Shadowhawks gave chase to the MiGs, closing the gap fast with their superior speed. Several missiles were fired off as the three Falkasians banked off slowly. VICE had alerted them of an oncoming RADAR zone, which most definately meant considerable anti-air assets. A trap perhaps, but not for today.

They hit their airbrakes, flipping their planes 180 degrees on a virtual dime and shot back towards the conflagration.

Gavrin's flight, meanwhile, had accomplished their goal and were being waved off by the ground commander and hovercraft pilot. The banked sharply up, some of them barely missing the treeline as the combined sound of their twin jet engines echoed off the ground and shook the trees. Thousands of birds took flight, as if mocking the dogfight above.

It was by a split second decision that the young Anton decided to press his luck and aid Chenko in the fight. He ordered half of his remaining flight, six aircraft, to head back to base and assume CAP duty. He, and Zvezda Two through Six, would take to the chaos. They throttled their afterburners, gaining altitutde at a near vertical angle. Missiles were fired off helter-skelter as locks became apparent, streaking up out-of-sight towards the bellies of the Gripens from below. Many were way off mark however, flying radically in all directions.

"Are you suicidial?!!!" screamed one of his wingmen. "THIS IS RIDICULOUS!"

Gripens and Shadowhawks shot past in every direct as his flight of six penetrated the mess and shot through vertically. It was only by a miracle alone his inexperience hadn't cost them dearly. It didn't dawn on him until after the fact, but as he and his wingmates completed a loop and levelled out with the horizon, he had to shove it aside as he engaged with his remaining missiles.

======

On the Ground

Kuznetsov was on a mission, and no one would be stopping him. Sand flew everywhere. He could hear, nay feel the hot lead from both sides shooting over his head. His field of vision was narrow, focusing on the loading ramp alone and complete oblivious to his surroudings. A slight haze had developed in his peripherals, pounding visibly with every step and every breath he took. The weight slung across his shoulder had disappeared, and he felt incredibly lgiht despite the dozens of pounds of gear he wore.

Rounds whizzed past, plinking off the metal surfaces of the hovercraft. He saw his Raiders, waving and beckoning at him to keep going. The barricades they had erected were alight with continual muzzle flashes. He could barely make out faces, but the motions of those dropping forced special attention. Everything was in slow motion it seemed. He could have sworn he saw the bullets streaking through the air as the splinter on impact. He saw several Marines take errant rounds to their upper body, being tossed backwards like toys as sprays of blood and gore shot out the other side.

Ahead, a few Royals had broken through and were rushing the boat. From their barricade, two Marines vaulted over and began taking forceful slow-motion steps as they brought their shotguns to bear.

CLICK! BOOOOOOOOOM! They pulled back the choke and sent sprays of buckshot in their direction.

CLICK! BOOOOOOOOM! CLICK! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! CLIIIIIIIIIIIIICK BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

His world slowed down even further as he watched each individual lead ball pockmark the soldiers. Their chests were flayed, repainting the ground a gorey red. One of the soldiers turned, firing off another blast at a Royal he had somehow missed. The man was nailed in the shoulder, backflipped by the kinetic power. The Marine turned, mouthing something at Kuznetsov as the distance closed even more. He extended his hand...

BOOOOOOOOM!

Kuznetsov's world disappeared as sand went everywhere. Next to him on the beach, the shockwave from huge explosion blew him off his feet. The Major was flung several yards and face first into the dirt. His casualty landed on top of him, sending a trickle of blood from his mouth down the back of the Major's breastplate. He lay there for a moment, taking a mental inventory of himself before his training kicked in. No longer in slow motion, he shot up and grabbed the dead Marine by the arm.

He turned around, rifle at the ready and began backpedalling towards the boat. Seconds later, there were hands around him. He vaguely acknowledged the change in texture beneath his boots. The hands forced him to sit, of which he was far more obliged to do himself. The ramp went up, and just like that, they were off. Marine Medics dashed back and forth between the barricades to assess and tend to the wounded. Kuznetsov saw that the rear end of the LCAC had been devoted to triage... far too many to count... perhaps almost one hundred. Next to them, stowed away privately, were several dozen more bodybags. The Major prefered not to think about them.

He grew cold as the mist began to pick up off the water. The Hovercraft throttled up and gained speed as the air battle continued overhead. From his detached place, Kuznetsov drew his eyes to where he had nearly been killed. A large aircraft had slammed into the ground belly-first, crumbled in the center by the impact. It was on fire, especially near the rear where jet fuel spewed forth. The pilot must have seen me, Kuznetsov thought solemnly. In his last minutes of life, he had directed his aircraft away to avoid crushing me...

Another explosion, this time the CIWS Cannon, concealed his view of the beach from view as the LCAC rounded the corner and out into the ocean.

======

Near Kenega

The hovercraft approached, lurching this way and that in the rought waves. The island, and its infinitisimal amount of lights, grew ever larger in the distance. The ship's compliment grew restless, tired of guarding the prisoners and eager to get back to business. The prisoners however, remained surprisingly silent as they tried to determine what their futures now held.

Up on the bridge, the Captain radioed ahead.

"Orangutan," he stated bluntly into the speaker. "We're coming in from the southwestern side of the island... see you soon."

He replaced the speaker, flipping several switches on the dashboard as he piloted the hovercraft deftly close to the island. The ship's running lights ignited, making its presence known throughout the area. As an extra effort, the Falkasian flag was striked and a Red Cross was raised in its place. If the Uli-Schwyz company tried anything rash or stupid, the whole world would know.

======

Norritts ACC

Vadim nodded gravely.

"Alert the garrisons around the island. Get them going, and make sure they know to expect an assault from the sea."

The staff nodded, disappearing into the drone of the room. Mood had changed, evidenced by the ferocity in which the call to arms were being sent out. Every available radio and phone was used, screamed into by a red-faced Signals staff member. It was a rapid process, and as the first of the so-called Panic Lights began to come online, many of the troops up and down the coats were already gearing up for what would likely be a long haul. The base air raid siren, which also acted as a call to marshal, began to sound as Noritts went into lockdown.

What had once been quiet and vacant became a hub of activity as the troopers of the 8th Airborne began making preparations to roll out. Vadim once more had exited the ACC at the behest of his driver, who was needed back at HQ to shuttle lower officers to their troops. The door was open and waiting for him, and they were off no soon than had he buckled his seat belt. On the way, they were joined by a large two-ton truck which began following them halfway to base. It had an open bed... jam-packed with heavily armed AK-113 toting soldiers ready to meet the enemy face on.

This was their escort. Vadim, unused to this kind of protection, wondered what kind of security they'd give his commander in a similar situation. He rolled his eyes, dismissing the unnecessary though from his head and focusing solely on the issue at hand.

======

EKTV Studio
Ekaterine, Falkasia

"Good evening. I am Svetlana Michevsky, bringing the news to you right as it happens."

She looked very grave tonight, no doubt just another facade put on for the camera.

"We bring troubling news to you tonight. Recently released documents have revealed surprising insights into Mcnernia's Armed Forces. What was originally believed by the international community as a competent, professional fighting force has instead been recast as an undisciplined mob of rabble. These documents, secured only for us by an inside source within the Mcnernian government, goes into extensive detail as to their recruiting and training policies. With us tonight to discuss these disturbing new allegations is Salzlandic Professor and Defense Analyst Phillippe Gonzalez."

The camera zoomed out, revealing Phillippe seated next to her.

"Professor Gonzalez, welcome and thank you for coming."

"Thank you Svetlana."

"So, as I'm sure you're aware, recent documents have unmasked the Mcnernian Army.... what is your take on this?"

Gonzalez cleared his throat.

"It explains alot," he said with an amused smile, "It definiately does. Barbaric, uncivilized, lacking discipline... I could go on with adjectives to describe the horde of men they have amassed into a makeshift army. Its depressing really that a people so oppressed should have these men as fine examples to look up too. To put it simply, Mcnernia's Army screams war crimes. According to these latest documents, and opinions of experts such as me, Mcnernian soldiers are more often violent criminals given early parole inexchange for battlefield service. Detailed accounts within the reports state countless cases of internal murder on part of group disagreements, as well as a plethora of rape and sexual assault charges levied against many of these supposed "second-chancers." given this knowledge, I am starting to understand why we've been reviewing so many blatant equally grotesque reports of gross human rights violations in Hutanjian. It is not just that these soldiers are partaking in the mass slaughter of civilians and widespread rape'n'pillage of peaceful towns... but because Mcnernia's soldiers are required to do so by their own impulses. Its like fielding an army of abberants and expecting them to get the job done without a mess."

"I see... you make a compelling point... what about the latest information about King Emillion?"

"Ah yes..." Phillippe smiled again, enjoying every minute. "Apparently Emillion isn't even their King after all. He is instead an ordinary beggar... for lack of a better term, a travelling pauper. These documents show his lineage does not trace back to the Kings and Queens of lore as he so claims, but to a prostitute mother. He was born a bastard child out of wedlock, with no information or trace of his father. Apparently, he only assumed the throne after politiking his way through Court and rendering the former King unable to rule..."

"What do you mean, 'unable to rule?'"

"Quite simply Svetlana, he murdered him and the rest was covered up."