Let Us Die To Make Men Free [IC/CLOSED/ATTN:IASM/ICE]

[Afalia]

'Slavery is a weed that grows on every soil.'-Edmund Burke

Fairfax House
Kingwalk, Blackdon
Empire of Afalia

Despite much protest and complaint from his wife the Prime Minister was dragged out of bed at 3, wrapped in a dressing gown and marched towards the secure national security team briefing and action room. Only an hour before Christopher Kelly had finally got into bed after working hard to organise and finish a final policy push in parliament before the summer recess. Now he was up again, the Fairfax House permanent secretary leading him towards the 24 hour operations room centred deep down in the basement of the prime minister's official residence.

'What's this all about Greg?' Kelly asked, rubbing his eyes.

The permanent secretary, Greg Hopkins raised his eyes, 'Do you want me to explain or the security experts?'

Kelly didn't reply. He reached the room, guarded by two marines in full dress uniform who gave the salute as he pressed his hand down on the biometric lock which would open the door. Promptly it opened and the PM walked in, looking a little worse for wear. He went to the end of the desk, his reserved place and sat down looking at the small gathering of experts-a general from the army, an admiral from the navy and a marshal from the air force. Alongside them sat A, the head of the AIS, and a few other lower ranked officials Kelly had noticed on a few occasions.

'Before we begin, can someone get me a cup of tea,' Kelly said.

Hopkins was gone for a minute before returning with the tea. Kelly paused for a moment and sighed before taking a sip. He finally looked up at the security team.

'OK, let's go.'

A stood up and approached the interactive map at the back of the room, 'Prime Minister, about two hours ago the service was passed intelligence that a large fleet of Titanican ships, travelling from Esquarium to the Titanican mainland in Greater Dienstad, is carrying approximately two and a half million slaves, guarded by a large number of escorts ranging from battleships to submarines' he pointed to an area on the map, 'In a few days we estimate the fleet's location will be around here.'

The PM sat up and sipped his tea a little more, nodding.

The admiral from the navy piped in, 'We're recommending a task force sir, to intercept them. We also believe we will be successful provided we have ICE support.'

'Which we'll have,' Kelly said, 'Our friends at the ICE hate the Tites as much as we do. Ladies and gentlemen, I want us to take the lead on this. How many ships can we spare admiral?'

'Around 50 ships and submarines sir.'

'That sounds good. Does anyone have any objections?' the PM asked, before lifting the tea to his lips.

The room was silent for a moment before the marshal from the navy spoke up, 'As much as I'm in favour of such an operation sir, are you sure you have the backing of parliament and the public to undertake such an operation?'

Kelly stopped and placed the now near empty mug on the hard metal desk, 'Sir, the Titanicans destroyed our capital, killed 130,000 of our fellow citizens and are at this minute shipping two million innocent souls to a life of slavery. Not only will we have the backing of parliament, the public and the ICE, but God himself would want us to intervene and whack that fascist cowardly nation for all its got.'

Sheepishly the admiral nodded and looked at his desk. Kelly finished his tea and placed it down looking at the room's occupants, 'Slavery is a cancer that we have yet to banish from this earth. Unfortunately even if we are successful in this operation it will not eradicate this evil practice. But I know I will be proud if we can do just a little to halt it and destroy in its tracks. Do we have a name?'

Hopkins nodded, 'Operation Grandsire sir. The task force will simply be known as Task Force F.'

'I hereby order the launching of Op. Grandsire. Prepare Task Force F immediately and let's call up our friends at the ICE and see if there'll join us. Good luck boys and girls, pray for a victory. Let's do our best.'

[Arthurista]

Admiralty Building,
downtown Loweport,
Arthurista

"Well, well, what've we got here, Janine?"

"Photos, citizen Admiral. Very expensive photos, in fact."

Admiral Ranjit Wong was a man with two hats. Firstly he was the Chief of Naval Staff, the professional head of the People's Navy. He is also the Chief of Defence Staff, the professional head of the entire Arthuristan People's Defence Forces. Some say, judging by the defence spending patterns, that the two were one and the same anyway. In this particular instance, where policy and militaria intermix into seriously murky water, his ability to juggle both those responsibilites might be a boon after all.

"At 0800 hours the day before, Helios was launched from Cape Erdington, as we all know." The event Rear Admiral Janine Denisov referred to was the launch of Arthurista's first Helios orbiter. These billion dollar spaceplanes were built, to much fanfare, to replace the aging Hermes. "The crew belonged to the civilian Arthuristan Space Exploration Agency, but they had some military grade recce hardware on board to do some 'weather observation', as our space launches usually do. They spotted this," Janine Denisov deftly used her ipad to bring out the images in question. "A big armada of cargo ships, flanked by escorting men-of-war. They're Titianician. I should know, my carriers' planes sank a fair few of them in the previous scrap at Afalia."

"So, we investigated?"

"We were just about to vector in some RORSATs to take a closer look when, well, this arrived," she flocked to another page on her ipad. "Intel from Afalia. Those guys have some seriously efficient spooks. See for yourself."

"We need to think this through," Ranjit said quietly, "we've got two hotspots brewing in Pardes itself. Forces are going to be a bit stretched, to say the least."

"Don't we have a force on standby for ICE ops?"

"Of course, an entire fleet deployed extra-regionally, in fact. But-"

"Well, the recall order didn't include it. We don't need the whole lot, anyway. These guys have no carrier air cover. Chances are, no subs too. Given the level of Titancian competence at sea that we've observed, dealing with the escorts shouldn't be too difficult."

"One CV, one BC, their escorts and a bunch of subs?"

"That ought to do the trick. I'll get it set up right now."

"The PM must sign off on this personally herself, of course. But otherwise, yes, you may proceed, citizen rear admiral."

[Itailian Maifias]

---

“Slavery can only be abolished by raising the character of the people who compose the nation; and that can be done only by showing them a higher one.”

— Maria Chapman

---

The Ragged Old Banner
Rain's Hand 12, 3E3
Palazzo di Omnes
Ebonaevron, Valeryth, Itailia
0600 Hours

It was a bleak morning on the island of Valeryth, the heavy thunderstorm that the weather experts had called for had indeed arrived around two in the morning while sleep and darkness blanketed the city, it's heavy downpour covering everything in a slick skin and it tested the endurance of the drainage systems once more.

Palazzo di Omnes was a newer building, construction had finished just last year on the marvellous palace that served as the office and home of the Archon. Before the migration to Valeryth, where Omnes stood were ruins of an old debate hall from a time long since past. It is rumored that it was there that some of the first democratic speakers performed and it was deemed as a fitting site as the workspace of the Head of State for the Empire, a decision that the Archon Galus agreed with.

He had already been awake when the red phone rang, a hotline to the Imperium Analysis Operations Center which lay one hundred feet below the Palazzo. He had just returned from an economic conference with NOCOTA in northern Eslovakia and was incredibly tired from the jet lag, his eyes were starting to haze over as he poured himself a large cup of coffee from the pot that had been prepared for his return. When he heard the phone ring, he was in the middle of a very enlightening sip of the rich blend and he sighed mentally and finished his drink before walking over to his large desk to answer it, speaking in slow syllables. " Yes, what is it today?"

" Sir, intel forwarded from Afalia, thought you should have a look at it, it trigged WASO and CASTLE flags when it came through our servers sir. Legate Kaseo is also already down here awaiting you."

" Mhmm, alright give me one minute, I'll be down there in just one second."

He sighed and placed the phone back on it's station before walking over the the closed wardrobe closet behind his desk and opened it, revealing many empty hangers and a few jackets. He grabbed one of the black blazers and slid his arms through them, pulling off his already undone bowtie from his collar and undoing the top button. Casual, but good enough.

He left the lights in his office on as he sidestepped out of the door and into the grand hallway, two guards from the Order of the Dragon posted outside of his door, one now leaving to escort him to the IAOC which had to be accessed through a flight of stairs which were hidden behind a fake bookcase in one of the many libraries and studies within the Palazzo. It took them about ten minutes to get to it, as it was located on the other side of the Palace from the Archon's office which was located in the northeastern tower, while the library was near the eastern end of the second floor. It was a small and rather tidy room, it's back wall lined with bookcases and a small coffee table surrounded by two couches in the center of the room. The guard walked up to the center most bookcase and pulled the book Merchant in Venice , which caused the case to swing open revealing a steel door that had a biometric scanner that required Galus's handprint and voice. It took them a quick minute to administer both and then they were slowly walking down the stone concrete stairs that eventually opened up to a second door which guarded the entrance to a large computer room.

The IAOC itself was around one hundred yards in any direction and for the most part was row after row of computer's and head's up displays, manned by members of the Air Force's Air Control Division, which acted as a SIGNIT group at the moment, gathering hordes of information and properly logging them into the Empire's servers. To the left of the whole room, on it's western room, was conference room which served as the briefing area and it's where Galus was headed. The room itself was different, containing a large circular table that each of the members could sit at, with a computer screen and keyboard as well as two panels to the right of the monitor that displayed various information that they needed, all set into the face of this blue metal circle. Already inside was Legate Kaseo, who was acting Legate of the Imperial Home Guard, or the four Legions assigned to the defense of the Empire's mainlands. He was sitting down, donned in the traditional dress uniform of the Empire, his left breast adorned with numerous campaign awards. At a coffee machine in the back of the room was Raniero Pisano, Galus's permanent secretary and often right hand man. While Galus took a seat, Raniero placed a cup of coffee on top of the circle where Galus sat and then began the briefing. " Okay now that we're all here, around forty minutes ago my contact at the Afalian Relief Agency and Dux Alvino at Fort Loginic in Afalia that they have some incredibly hard proof of that facist state IASM moving what appears to be two million souls to their lands in Dienstad to enter slavery. Naturally it is being escorted by a large armed contingency and the Dux believes we should send some units to support the Afalians in this operation."

Galus nodded and clicked away on the monitor in front of him, displaying an overview of all the units within the Empire and her colonies. He clicked into view only those within Pardes and then smiled " Alright, so here's what we're going to do. Assemble a task force out of the 2nd Southern Red Fleet, have Commodore Marciana Flavia Regina off of the INS Eternal Spite lead up the task force, make sure to include some carriers and their appropriate escorts. Cut orders to have them link up with the Afalian assets on the operation."

[The IASM]

"To rule through fear is easier and more rational to rule though force, but to establish a culture of fear that is when you are getting somewhere. To create this order those who are worthy need to live, those who have the right to rule must." - Tor Orious Lazin.

---

TAF Machiko Kimiko - Shogun class battlecruiser
Escort fleet-001
International waters
Current Temp: 20° C (62° F)

---

Titianicia's were surprisingly traditional when it came to certain areas of life, for instance if you use tea bags when preparing tea for any good Titianician; don't be surprised if he doesn't drink it or outright ignore its existence. Admiral Rihaka Ramamnekaka was certainly one of those people and that was not hidden in his quarters which were lavishly decorated with Katana's while also having a portrait of Jaci Lazin - the dragon of Opexion - and the patron of this ship, Machiko Kimiko Lazin as a reminder of who he rightfully served He was one of the few people who knew about Lazin's capture which was unsurprisingly kept hidden from the Titianician population completely. If he knew who would most likely come to power now it would almost certainly be his apparent lover - Machiko. She certainly has proven here worth to the state more than once as the current head of the TSA though the swift elimination of NARF during her breeding partner's absence. If Rihaka was going to be erased, she would have most likely authorised it which completely dominated him. His own sister vanished a few months ago, most likely to keep him in line for this rather important mission.

Most Diamyos, directors and admirals have heard about the coup in southern New Alotos by local colonial officials. There was a lot of sensitive materials in that colony which quite frankly should not given to those who though it was not worthy. Their new protector was far more hapless and incompetent than the last, he was a Alotosian - European raised in the second order (lower administrators) as a governor. Now a Idi Amin styled military dictator far to impudent, illogical and irrational to govern his large territory. That is why he had a federal parliament established to do the boring work while he managed to keep his rewards for apparently liberating the New Alotosian people. The TSA is now either planning a counter coup or just to completely obliterate them right about due to the vast amounts of technology which had to be shifted around. Now 25 large ships had to be rapidly reassigned to shift the 2 and a half million evacuated workers of the Third Order (workers, indebted servants).

Rihaka was enjoying his tea when the hollow wooden planes which covered up his main communications board and his TV. Behind it lay the commanding, magnificent and composed face of the Lazins - Machiko. Rihaka regained his old stature and bowed to his superior officer with respect while scanning her on the way down. She was wearing a standard officers uniform which bore the rank of general while she wore not a bit of make up, it was also clear that she had her hair tied up at the back of her head incredibly professionally while her red cold eyes looked downwards towards her subject. She began with "Admiral, I am here to inquire for the report that concerns the workers which you are transporting and the package which I wish to acquire."

Rihaka replied politely "My eternal patron, our ships have been relatively undisturbed apart from the odd fishermen and the package is currently in the hull of my ship protected from harm, it should be sent onto the Shiva class to be loaded one of their planes and will arrive in 17 hours…"

"I require it to arrive in 12 hours or your incompetence shall be shown rather publicly" she snapped when interrupting her subject. Machiko certainly had a senate of perfection to her and all who know her, she had risen above the many and that is why Lazin liked her - she was perfect by his standards, the right to rule was within her.

Machiko then spoke again saying cautiously in her cold but youthful voice while looking at the Admiral refusing to answer "You know that the fleet should be on high alert at all times considering that it is quiet oblivious that we are carrying a very large amounts of goods which would be a good target to pirates and our good enemies in the I.C.E - I expect you to leave none alive admiral - Machiko Kimiko signing out".

Rihaka signed with a sense of relief in his breath as he returned to his now cool cup of tea - waiting for the future which would be so painful on the seas.

[Afalia]

'You may choose to look the other way but you can never say again that you did not know.'-William Wilberforce

Port Lucia
Near Denlan
Afalia

Abandoned during the 1960s after the chemical plant company which worked there shut down, the former Wilson & Co. Port laid in near ruins until 2013. Quickly patched up by conscripts when Titanican declared war it had hosted Coalition forces from the ICE until the UDT naval fleet was defeated. Soon after the war had ended the new Afalian armed forces been created the port had been refurbished and given the name of the Queen Consort, the person who had officially opened it.

Admiral Quentin Bell had settled in nicely following his appointment as the leader of the Western Carrier Battle Group A, known as Group Adamant for ORBAT and official naval purposes. An old hand in the former security wing his lobbying of successive governments for a fully equipped armed forces had gone unanswered until the war, a point he often pointed out to the democratically elected representatives he served. But despite his bitterness he had been overjoyed at the honour of being given command of the group and its aircraft carrier, RAS George, named after His Majesty himself.

Training exercises and regular war games between the ships and crews began, all the while Bell enjoying himself and his newfound fame from his varnished office. The decision to enter the ICE had led him to place his Port on a higher level of alert, in case of any sudden ICE interventions, but that was just to keep his boys and girls on their toes. He hadn't expected an operation against Titanica so soon.

The message had arrived at around half past three in the morning on the special ticker tape, reserved for senior personnel within the forces, 'BE ADVISED: Special Order AS-Prepare Adamant for action.' The AS symbol denoted the words Anti-Slavery and Admiral Bell rubbed his hands together in excitement. Dictators and oppressive nations were one thing, but he despised the face that slavery supporting and slavery operating backwards hell holes still existed in the 21st century. It was only a few hours later he received a message from General Dawson, chief of the defence staff, giving further details of the other fleets and carrier battle groups involved in the task force. A few hours more before Titanica was revealed to be the culprit.

Bell's group began assembling immediately. Although it would take a couple of days to assemble the Titanican fleet was shifting two million soon to be slaves and weren't moving in any particular hurry. More orders from Dawson gave Bell the co-ordinates of the meeting place in international waters where they would join up with Arthuristian and Itailian task forces. A smile crept over the admiral's face. A joint ICE operation to free two million slaves and blow up Titanican ships at the same time, what could be better? With approval given by ICE allies for Afalia to lead the operation Bell would finally get some of the revenge he wanted for Blitzen.

The admiral approached the window of his office and looked out at the Port, RAS George proudly in the centre, as the assembly of supplies, other ships and sailors continued onwards. Out in the depths of the oceans a Titanican fleet made its way peacefully. Soon that peace would be shattered by the forces of the Afalian and ICE task force.

[Arthurista]

APNS Vigilant
Flagship, Arthuristan People's Navy Task Force Spartacus,
Inter-regional waters

The summer sky was bright and blue, with not a cloud in sight, as TF Spartacus ploughed through inter-regional waters towards the rendezvous point designated by the Afalians. Inside the comfortably air-conditioned flag wardroom, Vice Admiral Gemma Buthelezi sat back and waited as her staff filtered in to begin their impromptu lunch meeting.

"Not a bad name, is it? Pete? TF Spartacus - entirely approrpiate, given the nature of the mission."

"True enough, citizen Admiral" replied Commodore Peter South. Not too long ago, as a mere commander, he skippered the frigate APNS Ariadne on an anti-slave raid as part of an ICE task force. This experience was the main reason why he was handpicked for the job of serving as the task force's executive officer. Now and then, he misses the thrills of commanding a small, stealthy combatant conducting lone patrols in distant seas. Remembering the grisly aftermath of his last sortie would quickly quell that. "I must say, though, the thing with the Morrigan wasn't a particularly nice stunt to pull."

The APNS Morrigan, a Medusa Class battlecruiser, led a surface action group that has been an integral part of Arthurista's ICE intervention element for months. It had a highly proficient crew that trained regularly with the rest of the task force. The brewing crisis in Pardes, however, led to its withdrawal and substitution at the last minute by the APNS Titan and her battlegroup, a completely new bunch on virtually their first cruise. They had hardly trained with other ships in their group, and definitely have not trained with the rest of the task force. They gained a significantly more powerful ship plus her escorts, but with a raw crew and raw command team, something which they are not willing to trade for even a few thousand extra missiles.

"You know, they nearly got me, too. I'm the only Admiral in the People's Navy with experience commanding a major fleet action, well, the only living one." The evil that men do live after them, and nobody in the room were willing to mention the only other Arthuristan admiral who fought a major battle in living history. "The Admiralty was going to hand me the Home Fleet, I think. Then the Afalian intel arrived and it was a bit late to pull me off TF Nike."

"We should count our lucky stars, then. A shootout is fairly unlikely back home. Out here, things are far more interesting." said Captain Philip Fraser, the task force's intel officer. "Satellite recon shows a fairly substantial force. A pair of carriers, two battlecruisers, 22 cruisers and about 40 destroyers. Seems a bit overkill to escort 25 merchies."

"You're right, Phil, something's not adding up." said Buthelezi as she sampled her BLT. "Remember, ladies and gents, we're here to rescue the slaves, not just unload Trafalgar on hapless, navally-handicapped Titiancians. If we dawdle, the bastards are going to wise up and probably dump their cargo, which none of us want to see. We have to neutralise all the escorts in one stroke, then raid the merchies before they can recover. Any suggestion?"

"As a matter of fact, citizen admiral, I do," said commodore Alison Truman, c-in-c aviation, "we'll need to be very well coordinated with our friends, though. Here's how it goes..."

[The IASM]

TAF Machiko Kimiko - Shogun class battlecruiser
Escort fleet-001
International waters
Current Temp: 20° C (62° F)

---

The seas were starting to become fierce as two men sat watching from inside the ship, though the small thick windows which created a rather distorted image. These men were nothing significant, one was a private and the other a corporal. It looked like a storm was starting to appear behind them which was lucky as it looked almost like a Typhoon. One of them noticed the huge 25 cargo ships following in the distance completely crushing the waves with their weight. "I wish is was one of those lucky people, they are being taken to a far better place were there work would not be destroyed and treated well while we are in constant danger and replaceable" one of them exclaimed with a sense of envy in his voice. His friend looked back at him before saying "You know Keji, they are either former militia members or newmen - the wars down in New Alotos were horrific often leaving entire communities annihilated - I'm pretty sure the death toll was around 29 million non combatants. So the TAF ended up separating the colony with a huge wall which was locally maintained in order to keep the enemy out and so TItianician Enclave could finish uplifting them however now they've got a liberal dictator who is apparently their protector."

Then a rather bizarre craft appeared in front of the ship, it looked like a pelican from the halo franchise but the men would not even know of the series existence. It was a MDS AI Falken made in Eslovakia and currently is unique in the international military. It headed steadily towards the ship and landed on the TAF Machiko Kimiko and then the speakers onboard the ships interior ordered "Sikalak squad, you are now hereby ordered to come to the landing deck ASAP." The two men then began to rush upstairs and onto the deck in the now pouring rain in order to help in the package. They both stood in a uniform straight line to clear fully guard the package however those two men both were at the loading area of the Falken - able to see what ever the package was. Then four men went cowards carrying the most peculiar of objects - a pure gold, highly decorated statue of a dragon. Its eyes were crimson like the blood of those sent to protect it. It was so beautiful, yet so cold. The two men looked upon the dragon with nothing but awe as it was carefully loaded onboard the DropShip. Then one of Samurai on deck ordered rather bluntly "All men return to battle-stations and await for further orders!". While those words were uttered rather powerfully across the landing pad, the Falken - sprayed in radar absorbent paint - began to take off, leaving a circular arrangement of water due to the hugemongous amounts of thrust being used to lift this feat of technological magnificence. It was a struggle to see through the dragon like storm which was so almighty in its strength - it has become clear that its strength has increased is the small time it took to load the gold dragon onboard however the burning red fury that was the jets were still clear as any fire would be.

The one of the two men - Keji - ran though the surprisingly large hallways of the ship separated from his friend to enter his place of work - the nexus of the fleet, Rihaka command. It is traditional in the Titianician Waterborne Forces to name to commanding centre after its commanding officer as high command is literally the highest level of authority as only the Shoguns and the Ditor. Keji served as the air controller for the carrier and it was oblivious that he knew his field rather well in the way he observed the many screens. He then noticed that their were no Airborne Early Warning & Control aircraft in the air. Keji picked up his communications phone and contacted the Shiva class carriers. He then calmly asked "Shiva carrier TAF Siliga, why is there no AEWC in the air when we are 5 kilometres away from Morrdh?" The admiral expected that the Royal Morridane Navy would be a problem with all of this considering they effectively controlled the north western waters of Greater Dienstad through. There was a few second of static before the other operator replied "We are preparing to launch two however there is a E-3 Sentry on route to cover our path into Dienstad we should be fine…" Then the other operator was rudely interrupted by Keji replying, viciously "Would you prefer more than a trillion Lazin's worth of ships lost along with even more valuable amounts of crew worthy of living - we may have reserves but we would all prefer existing for a bit longer than five seconds in a naval conflict. In other words launch them soon as possible once they are fully refuelled and on a make sure it covers the required areas - TAF MK Rihaka out". Keji sat there, methodically watching the screen, this was he had been turned into - a cog in a military clock.

---

]TAF Siliga - Shiva class carrier
Carrier fleet-001
International waters
Current Temp: 20° C (62° F)

The command centre was filled with incredible activity, the crew up there had to maintain control over one of the most stupidly complex ships types ever built because not only did they have to manage the ship itself but the aircraft onboard which needed to take of at will. The first Shiva - the Siliga was focused around combat with F/A-240-A Night-Eagle Advanced Stealth Fighters, Ka-27 anti-submarine helicopters and a few Yakovlev Yak-44s to serve as the AEW&C of the fleet. There was so much chaos however it remained organised and effective. The bridge was cautiously preparing to launch the Yak-44s as they slowly rose onto the deck, on the large lifts. The wings started to widen as the rotor blades of the Yak-44 started to rotate as its propfan - the roar of the pistons started to filled the air. The mean refuelling it started to back off as the pilot inside started to prepare for take off before he spoke into his radio saying "this is AEW&S Alpha , do I have permission to take off?"

The operators on the other sided in their usual cold tone of voice, answering "AEW&S Alpha you have permission for take off, prepare to fly in low visibility conditions - Siliga out".

Soon after those words were spoken, the sound of the brakes releasing their pressure from the tires stopped allowing this machine into sprint down the runway and into the sky. "AEW&S Alpha has successfully taken off, we are now heading for our target position to await further orders - Alpha out". Now the plane headed for its position to await anything that might be of importance for now at least.

[Arthurista]

1st Flight
APN Fleet Air Arm 13th "Excalibur" Fighter Squadron
TF Spartacus
International Waters

"Hermes leader, this is Zeus. You are clear to initiate attack sequence, over."

The voice over the radio sounded sterile in his helmet speakers, but Lt Commander Stephen Harris, the Seafire 2 pilot snug in his cockpit, could hear the tension behind the voice, speaking from the Ark Royal class carrier's bridge hundreds of kilometres away.

"Roger, Hermes leader out." came his crisp reply.

Harris knew that his mission was only the very first part in in a colossal undertaking, starting with his flight a week before the combined ICE task forces were scheduled to enter Dienstad. Confronted with the problem of how to catch the Titiancians by surprise in order to keep the slaves safe, a plan was hatched - they must make sure that their enemies are unaware of their presence until it is too late.

ICE satellites were used to track the movement of the Titiancian convoy. Conversely, the coalition must blind the enemy's eyes in space. For the next week, Titiancian satellites everywhere will come under attack. The targets selected were scattered around various locales, seemingly at random, intended to mask the fact among those eliminated are all the satellites which could overfly the fleets' path into Dienstad. With fingers very much crossed, the planners hoped that this would allow them to get the jump on the convoy.

Harris started his attack run at 12,000m. Throwing his stick back, his aircraft began its rapid climb at 45 degree angle, with its wings swept all the way back and afterburners glowing. Outside his cockpit, he could see the sky progressively darken as the fighter gained altitude. Finally, at 27,000m, the missile his Seafire carried lit up.

"Zeus, this is Hermes Leader. I have lock. Releasing weapon now."

He had some reasonable doubt as to whether the weapon would work at all. The ASM-135 is an old design - some of the boxed-up units in the inventory date back to the mid-80s. He felt the fighter shudder as it jettisoned the munition at 28,860m, before flipping backwards in a long looping dive . He had used up much of his fuel and would need to be topped up before he can return to the carrier.

Above, the missile's solid booster fired its thirty-second burn, climbing straight up into space. Unlike first generation models, this particular missile had active radar guidance. It homed in relentlessly on its mark.

"Just thirty to go," he thought, as his missile rose to meet its target and his aircraft dived towards the earth.


7th Attack Submarine Squadron
TF Spartacus
Approaching Dienstad

Even as the anti-satellite campaign began and the main fleet remained a week away, the first elements of TF Spartacus were approaching Dienstad.

Satellites could give you a good general picture, but they are not precise instruments as far as maritime recce is concerned. The six Triton Class vessels of the 7th Attack Submarine Squadron were tasked with finding the Titiancian convoy. Entering the Region singly, spaced widely apart, they would comb the seas and, once the convoy was located, shadow it, avoid detection and contact at all cost while providing periodic updates to TF Spartacus as to the convoy's location, bearing and speed.

When the time comes to spring the trap, they would be joined by another unit - the six Zeus Class SSGNs of the 3rd Missile Submarine Squadron, which would greatly augment the combined group's firepower. For now, though, they would play the role of silent scouts, lurking unseen until the moment is right.

[Afalia]

RAS George, Flagship
Task Force F
International Waters

Task Force F had launched from Port Lucia at dawn. It had a long way to go before it reached Greater Dienstad where it would meet the other ICE task forces in a collective effort to destroy Titanican ships and free the slaves. Back home discussions in quite back room committees regarding asylum for the slaves were being discussed. But on the seas the task force was only interested in blowing the Titanicans to hell. Despite an anger amongst the sailors aboard the large aircraft carrier Admiral Bell had ordered his men and women to keep their thoughts on their mission and its objectives. He trusted the professionalism of his officers but they were very young.

'We don't think will hit any other bad weather patches barring the one tonight Admiral,' a young sailor said.

Bell nodded and examined the latest weather reports, 'As long as we get there on time.'

'We'll do our best sir.'

Reports from Task Force Spartacus, rather aptly named, had shown that missile attacks on Titanican satellites were beginning on schedule and so far had been successful. Meanwhile an Arthuristan submarine squadron had moved closer to Dienstad, ahead of the soon to be combined ICE task forces. Everything was progressing nicely, although there was still a long way to go.